#and so many more i can't remember right now

[obaex]

four - hockey player!ex!rafe cameron (pt. 1)

summary: rafe knows he's screwed up, but when he offers you a way to make amends, you can't resist. the catch? he'll have to do the impossible.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: rafe is slightly toxic in this ngl! i am in love with this. hockey romance is very near and dear to me (this is v loosely based on a real life experience). *mwah*

You saw your phone light up out of the corner of your eye and lowered your mascara wand as you leaned over to glance at the screen and let out a shaky sigh.

A part of you knew the right thing to do by now was to block his number. You hadn't responded to a single message he'd sent for over two weeks. And the messages had been relentless.

I'm thinking about you in the afternoons.

Hi beautiful in the mornings.

I'm sorry.

You're still my girl.

And on and on, escalating to paragraphs at night, as he typed out things he'd never once said out loud to you before; about how he felt the first time he met you, the things his teammates said, about how Wheezie was asking about you and Sarah spent an hour on the phone lecturing him, about how he'd do anything to get you back.

Reading his messages was like drinking a honied poison that went down sweet, warming every inch of you, only to make you sick in the end. But you couldn't stop. You couldn't block him. And even though you'd made him think you were ignoring him, you craved every message, every word he said something you had ached to hear when he had the chance.

Now it was two hours before the biggest game of the season, arguably one of the biggest of his career. He should be focusing on his pregame routine, on his way to the rink, if he wasn't there already and instead here he was texting you. You were the one on his mind and you drank that poison down, allowing yourself to feel special, even if the text had made no sense to you.

How many?

How many what?

His last message before that was from a couple of hours ago, before his pregame nap, the one you often took together as he had reminded you, in excruciating detail.

Your fingers twitched with the urge to reply. You knew he was baiting you into responding, but you swallowed down the urge and took a deep breath to still your beating heart and went back to applying your makeup, dragging up the same memory you did every time you were tempted by him.

It was just after 2AM, and you were sitting in your car that you had driven to his apartment, unable to sleep, desperate to talk to him. He lounged in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the windshield, tracking the rain that was falling steadily.

"Can you please talk to me?" you whispered, trying so hard not to come across as needy or desperate.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked, shrugging, avoiding your eye contact.

"I don't know, just tell me what's going on with you? You barely talk to me anymore, you won't even look at me. Did I do something?"

He shrugged again and you felt physically sick. Maybe it was because you couldn't remember the last thing you'd eaten, the last time you'd slept more than a few fitful hours, all consumed with the feeling that your five-year relationship was running off the rails. Rumors were flying that there was another girl... or girls... And when you had asked him about it, he brushed it off, not strongly enough to give you even an ounce of comfort. You were falling apart. And he was letting it happen. He was forcing you to end this, too cowardly to do it himself.

"Do you even want to be with me anymore?" you whispered, barely audible over the pounding rain, like maybe if he didn't hear you, he couldn't answer.

He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed loudly, frustrated, like you were just so annoying to him, and you wished you could suck your words back into your mouth.

"I have practice in like four hours, I can't be doing this with you right now" he said, aptly avoiding the conversation again.

Your chin was wobbling and you bit back everything you wanted to say, not wanting to be needy, or nagging, hoping if you were on your very best behavior he would have a change of heart, change his mind.

You pursed your lips and nodded, averting your gaze to look out at the rain and gathering the strength you needed to say the words that felt like nails in your mouth.

"I can't do this anymore" you whimpered, as tears fell that matched the droplets on your windshield. "I can't keep giving 100% and getting nothing in return. I'm sitting here spilling my heart out to you and you won't even look at me. After everything we've been through... You won't even deny that you hooked up with her."

Silence.

You could see him grimace, the tic in his jaw as he pushed his tongue into his cheek. You wanted to grab the front of his sweatshirt, shake him and scream 'SAY SOMETHING!'. But you didn't. And his silence persisted a moment longer.

"So that's it then?" he said finally, like you had any other choice.

You wiped futilely at the tears that were now pouring down your face, even as you tried to hold them back, sniffling with a shaky breath to avoid outright sobbing in front of him.

He opened the car door, got out, slamming it forcefully behind him without so much as a glance your way and you broke down. You didn't make it one block before you had to pull over. You couldn't see, you couldn't breath, and you couldn't hold your hands steady on the wheel you were shaking so badly. You threw your car in park, lay your head on the steering wheel and cried.

Two days passed before the first text came in.

"I'm sorry" is all it said.

You could see the bubbles at the bottom of the screen, indicating that he was still typing before more messages appeared.

At this point you were grasping your phone with both hands, like a lifeline, eyes glued to the screen, heart hammering so hard in your chest you felt nauseous and your hands were shaking. There was a chance, a glimmer, a hope and you were clinging to it.

Your fingers hovered over your phone, ready to forgive him, to forget, to run right back to the way things had been, to have him looking for you at the end of every game, for stolen kisses in the parking lot at the arena, to whispered I love yous as you fell asleep in his arms. And then more messages came flooding in.

More messages were coming now but you couldn't read any further. Your heart was battering around your ribcage like a pinball machine with the whiplash of information: your boyfriend of five years had been actively texting another girl... because she was easygoing, and fun to talk to and didn't stress him out… like you did.

Your tears were back like no time had passed from the night you broke up, heavy sobs coming from your mouth at how stupid you felt, at all the rumors being true. And did you really believe that nothing more had happened between them? He was Rafe fucking Cameron of the Carolina Eagles.

Your eyes skimmed over the second half of his message, about how you were it for him, about how much he loved you, how he wanted to marry you and for you to have his babies?? The ache of wanting that so desperately to be true and knowing it couldn't be was too much for you as you turned and cried into your pillow.

You recalled all of those messages now as a new one came in. You shoved your finger into the bruise on your heart, forcing yourself to feel that pain again, to imagine him laying in bed, in the bed you had slept in with him, while he texted another girl, maybe even texted both of you at the same time, and you refocused on your makeup.

You had faithfully followed the Eagles for five years, his teammates were some of your best friends, like brothers to you. Despite everything that had happened with Rafe, you weren't going to miss their game tonight. Rafe's best friend and linemate Nick had texted you earlier in the week to let you know he had a ticket for you.

Fine. It was hard to say no to that. Everyone you knew would be there anyway and you didn't need Rafe thinking he had power over you if you weren't there. So, you were going. And you decided if you were going to go you were going to look stunning, and as you put the finishing touches on your makeup, there was no doubt in your mind that you were.

You had spent more time on your hair and makeup than potentially every other game that season combined. You may have gotten a little comfy towards the end, wearing Rafe's team-issued sweatshirt with his name and number on it and a pair of leggings. He claimed that he loved you in that, but that wouldn't cut it tonight. You wore skintight jeans that accentuated every perfect curve of your body, heeled booties and a tight-fitting long sleeve shirt. Your hair was immaculate and your makeup was admittedly a little extra for an AHL game, but effortless nonetheless as it amplified your natural beauty. The pain in your heart had been ebbing its way into anger: you were going to make him regret every single thing he'd done, the thought nagging at you as your phone lit up again.

You huffed. You had been strong for weeks, and now he was throwing that at you?

Your perfectly manicured fingers hovered over your phone as you nibbled your glossed bottom lip, and finally relented.

What the hell? you thought, confused.

Feeling pretty good about your level of engagement, you sent another question mark before his response came in.

You scoffed before laughing out loud. He was truly unbelievable. You weren't on some sort of barter system here. This wasn't a deal you had ever discussed nor agreed to. This isn't how the world worked, this isn't how relationships worked. It was stupid. So so stupid. And Rafe wasn't the team's lead goal scorer anyway. Sure he was good for a flashy goal every few games, maybe two, but this was the semi-finals of the league championship, everything was on the line here, it was not the time to be playing games...

...But damn if you didn't love the semblance of power he'd given you over the situation, and you desperately wanted to fuck with him.

Four goals in one game. Essentially impossible. A joke. Sidney Crosby, arguably the best player in the NHL at the moment hadn't even achieved that. But not a second passed before his reply came through, simple, straightforward, no arguing or complaining:

"Done"

And then:

"I love you!"

"I'll be looking for you 😍"

You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on your bed, annoyed at yourself for even answering him.

And yet you couldn't fight the smallest bit of excitement you felt.

It was impossible. It was never going to happen, but Rafe Cameron was going to try to win you back.

part two - coming soon!

taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @ihe4rttwd, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444

[cobaltperun]

Genius (8) - R U Mine

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part

Word count: 2.5k

-And I can't help myself all I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"-

She really should have started writing her assignment, just so she could get it over with as soon as possible, but somehow, she just wanted to stay right where she was right now. In her bedroom, lying on her bed, engulfed in warm, soft blankets and your arms around her waist as she snuggled with you. It’s been a while since she relaxed like this, now, she wasn’t a morning person, but she rarely spent her free mornings in bed.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked her softly and kissed the top of her head. She straddled you and sat up with a teasing smirk on her face.

“How dare you be so gentle now? After you rocked my world last night?” she poked your chest jokingly.

You pressed a finger on your chin and looked up, acting as if you were in deep thought, the entire act completed with a soft hum. “Good point, good point, I don’t think you minded it thought,” you grinned, way too happy with what you did to her and for a moment she wondered how quickly could she get you hard and just leave you hanging.

Eh, that was a bit too cruel. Besides, you were right, though she wouldn’t admit it right now. In the throes of passion, yeah, absolutely, now that she was just cuddling with you, no, no way in hell would she admit how much you affected her.

“I’ll never say it,” she teased you, leaning down to kiss you.

You wouldn’t open your mouth for her though, and instead cupped her cheek and went for a more gentle, innocent kiss.

“I have your letter, it’s all the proof I need,” you laughed and well, she did confess how much she wanted you in the letter.

“I’ll burn it,” Cairo countered, not yet ready to admit her loss.

“You read it to me, I won’t forget it,” you had a point there, she had to admit that.

Well, she still had a way out, at least she hoped. “I’ll fill your brain with so many even dirtier thoughts you’ll have to forget it,” she whispered it in your ear, enjoying how sharply you inhaled at that.

Your pupils dilated as you looked her in her eyes, and she was sure her own eyes weren’t any less filled with desire and love she felt right now. She wasn’t ready to say it to you, that what she felt went above and beyond high school love, that she felt the madman’s love, and that she knew her feelings were returned. She felt it yesterday, she felt it as you took her, as the two of you burnt up in your emotions, all the desire and lust and need. She found it in you, the ruins of a friendship being rebuilt into the love that felt so right, that felt as if it was tailor-made just for her.

Maybe it was.

“Cairo,” her name rolled off your tongue so smoothly and she wanted to hear you say it more, she wanted to hear you say it ten years from now, twenty years from now, fifty years from now, with that same intensity and love in your voice. “What was on your mind?” you demanded, and she was at a loss on what to tell you.

“Us, this morning, yesterday, so many things at once. I just feel happy, I feel loved for the first time in a long time, maybe in my entire life,” she pressed her finger on your lips when you tried to speak up. “You asked why I pushed you away when we were kids, well,” she paused, moving from your lap and lying back down next to you. Her arms wrapped around you as she held onto you, knowing you wouldn’t disappear on her, but still needing to make sure.

“I wanted my parents to love me,” she began, knowing how confusing it must have sounded. “You remember how they were, right? Distant, uninterested, yet with high expectations,” she told you and felt, more than saw, you nodding. “I got a C on that test, remember? The one where only you and I got Cs and more than two thirds of the class failed?”

“I remember,” you told her, and she could tell you weren’t done. “If it was some other test I would have forgotten it, I can’t even remember if it was my first C or not, but I lost you right after it, and it just remained stuck in my memory,” you sighed, tightening your hold on her as you likely remembered how your next conversation went.

“They were disappointed, yelled all night, and I thought I’d make them happier is I stopped ‘wasting time’ as they put it,” she paused, buried her face in your neck and waited for your response.

“And one of those was the time you spent playing with me,” you said what she couldn’t and she just nodded.

“I thought if I did even better, if I never made any mistakes, if I was their perfect daughter, that they would love me more. They still pretend I don’t exist, like I’m the biggest mistake they ever made,” that was at the core of everything she did, she figured. Craving madman’s love, a love so strong it would consume her entirely, because she’s never been given the unconditional love of her parents she heard and read so much about. Perhaps, looking at it now that she was no longer trying to seduce him, she went after Miller’s love for that reason as well. Because deep down she felt like she needed validation from someone older, someone old enough to be her parent. Sure, Winnie’s talk pushed her toward Miller, but deep down, the key push was likely related to never feeling love from her parents. “I had you, and I gave you up for something I couldn’t ever gain,” she sighed, angry at herself for ever thinking that, for ever giving you up.

“Your parents are a special kind of fucked up,” you sounded angry, and though she knew any anger you may be feeling was directed at her parents she still worried some of it was reserved for her. “You have me now, we’re together, we’ll make up for the lost time,” you assured her as you gently rubbed circles on her back.

“I guess you would have left anyway, since your parents moved,” that was something that brought her some comfort, though it felt so hollow. “Right?” your silence made her prop herself up to look you in the eyes and the uncomfortable look on your face was enough even without your confirmation. “Y/N?”

“Not quite. I could have stayed, I just, had no reason to. And I could have come back two years ago as well,” you confessed, not wanting to lie to her, and she just looked down, processing the information as you sat up and pulled her onto your lap. “Cairo, listen to me,” you brushed her hair back, “Don’t get stuck on what-ifs, things worked out, and maybe they wouldn’t have if we stayed as best friends.”

It was a valid point, but at the same time, the fact that she was the one who gave you the reason to leave by not being your reason to stay hurt. She never considered that your departure could have been avoided, but then again, she never cared to learn more about the circumstances behind your parents moving. Maybe one of them could have stayed with you, or maybe they could have paid for someone else to make sure you were taken care of, they certainly had enough money to do what Cairo’s parents did.

It was also true that the past six years shaped both of you. Nothing proved that as much as how long it took her to recognize you when she first sat down next to you. Hell, she failed to recognize you in the hall, not that she paid much attention to you, even after Winnie said your name, she brushed it off as coincidence, as universe playing a cruel joke by reminding her of you.

In the end, you were right, thinking about what-ifs wasn’t helping either of you. “I still wish I didn’t push you away, I was stubborn, and then I was scared you were angry at me,” there, you had all the pieces of the puzzle.

“I knew you were stubborn, I guess I wanted you to come to me, we were children, immature, not realizing it didn’t matter how we made up didn’t matter as much as making up itself,” you understood, you weren’t angry at her, you accepted everything she said, and Cairo felt the weight she carried for so long being erased. She felt lighter, she felt even more loved.

“Are you mine?” she asked, bringing her lips closer to yours.

“I am,” you closed the distance and kissed her.

And there, with your lips dancing with hers, with your hands resting on her sides and her own holding you close to her, she did her best to convey, through her kiss, through her touch, to her soft moans into the kiss, that she was yours as well.

~X~

“Never fear, Winnie is here!” resounded through the mansion as you cleaned your helmet in Cairo’s living room to the soft tunes of Celine Dion playing in the background. Your helmet got really dirty, the mud and the rain didn’t do it any good, that was for sure, and you were surprised it wasn’t scratched, considering Cairo tossed it aside yesterday.

“That is exactly what I fear,” Cairo teased as she came into the living room just as Winnie barged in with the most flamboyant outfit you saw on her thus far. She had the bright sunglasses on, even though she was inside Cairo’s house, her skirt was longer, though still above her knees and it flowed a bit as she moved, but that was nothing compared to the flashy coat she had on, hanging from her shoulders as the sleeves magically flowed behind her back. Her shirt was so bright you wondered if you should go grab some sunglasses as well and she had several bags in her hands.

“Don’t tell me, there’s a secret government organization after you and this was your only disguise,” you grinned a bit when she raised her sunglasses and looked through the window.

“I lost her, for now,” she laughed, dropping down on the sofa close to you. “And it’s even worse than secret organization. It’s my art teacher, and I’m late for her assignment,” she cackled, tossing one of the bags toward you while you still had the helmet in your hands.

“Wait!” you yelled helplessly and fumbled a bit, but still managed to catch it.

“So that’s why I can’t see your underwear,” Cairo teased and sat down next to you.

“I’ll show it to you if it’ll get me a threesome,” Winnie tossed the second bag to Cairo and then took her sunglasses off.

Cairo rolled her eyes. “I’m not sharing,” she took out her chicken biscuits as you checked the content of your own bag and saw it was the same thing.

“Baby, you’d be shared,” Winnie said it so casually you nearly choked on the chicken you were chewing.

Cairo glanced at you and hummed. “You don’t know what I know,” and now you definitely choked, and she had to pat you on the back.

Winnie raised an eyebrow. “Share the spoils, also, that was quick, I didn’t think you’d lose your virginity before me, yet here we are,” the girl had no filter whatsoever.

“Not one word,” you warned Cairo as you tried to clear your throat and get rid of the awful feeling of nearly choking on food.

“And here I brought you lunch,” Winnie teased you and you just had to wonder how Cairo managed to deal with all the teasing, because, damn, the girl didn’t hold back. “Did you know Cairo dreamt about you? Like, way before you came back?”

Now it was Cairo’s turn to nearly choke. “Winnie!” she cried out, blushing furiously as her secret was revealed.

You just grinned and nudged her with your elbow. “Oh, you’ll never hear the end of this,” you promised her, and you decided you’d do everything in your power to get the details out of her.

“I’ll never tell you,” Cairo knew exactly what was going through your mind.

“Wanna bet?” you smirked and leaned over to Winnie. “Say, you’ve been her best friend these past four years. Give me some advantage here,” you nearly laughed at how betrayed Cairo looked at the moment.

Winnie raised her hand to her lips and pretended she was whispering, though Cairo heard everything loud and clear. “You could fuck her on your bike, or hear me out, reenact one of the smutty scenes she loves to read so much in return for the details,” she suggested. “I’m not sure how you’ll fill her with cum, but I’m sure she’ll be satisfied with 95 percent accuracy.”

Cairo glared at both of you. “She won’t have issues with filling me up,” she immediately got her revenge, and you watched as Winnie glanced down and then up to your face. “Yes,” Cairo confirmed it before Winnie could ask.

“So,” Winnie paused for a moment to clear her throat. “About that threesome,” she just laughed when Cairo threw a paper bag at her.

“I’ll go and get something sweet,” Cairo grumbled as she stood up and went toward her kitchen.

“You sure we can’t share you?” Winnie cackled when all she got as a response was a middle finger. “She’s happy, you know,” she suddenly told you and smiled, an actual, honest, no teasing whatsoever smile softened her face.

You tilted your head, not sure how she got that from this interaction.

“You still have some catching up to do, but she likely isn’t as open and relaxed as she was when you were kids. She’s absurdly stiff, and sure, she laughs, and smiles, but she’s just radiating from how happy she is right now. You see her, you love her, and she’s wanted that for so long, to be loved by someone who can take her loneliness away and take her away from here when she can’t do it for herself,” Winnie explained to you, and though she didn’t say it, you dared to think she left one bit unsaid, the part likely going along the lines: ‘you did something I couldn’t,’ because you saw just how much Winnie cared about Cairo, and you were thankful for that.

“I’ll get up to speed, I want to make her as happy as I possibly can,” you said, looking toward the kitchen. And you’d do just that, you’d do absolutely everything in your power to make sure she never felt lonely again.

A/N: How do I put this. Enjoy the happy times! We’re entering a bit of a angst part from the last third of the next chapter… Four chapters to go though!

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy @lifeforsimp13

@puta1 @minnyyminny

[melodic-haze]

alright think about this jealous sex with arlecchino. Maybe she’s been hanging out with columbina too much.

�� — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Thr briefest mention of petplay, rough sex ig, that's basically it 🤷‍♀️

Ohhhhmygod the way Arlecchino talks of her so very fondly too like it's VERY easy to be jealous I think. Like I'm not really a jealous or a possessive person but even then I'd give like a slight side eye

The Knave was just spending a BIT too much time with Columbina for your tastes. You ask if you could hang out w her, she tells you she has a prior engagement with the other Harbinger. You go to talk to her, she's already talking with Damselette. Frankly, she's acc taking the piss❗️❗️❗️

It just. Drives you up the FUCKING WALL but yk. "Do unto others what you want done to you" or smth like that idk the saying

"I-- I'm going to--"

"You are not doing anything unless I tell you to."

You feel her hands grip onto your hair as you practically abused her cunt with your fingers. If you weren't pinning her to the wall and holding her up, you were sure that as formidable as she was, her legs would've buckled down from the overwhelming stimulation and the lack of release whenever she reached her very peak.

(With the strength of her grip, youu also thanked archons above that despite everything, she was careful enough to not claw at your scalp. That wasn't the most important thing right now, though.)

"You know," you idly mused—taunted, even—as you curled your digits within her, "we could've been doing something better. We could've been having tea, tending to your children, having so much more fun than this. And yet what do you do?"

You pulled your fingers away, slick glistening and forming a faintly connecting line before snapping, and you hear a desperate whimper that you pointedly ignore, "You pass all that up for your fellow Harbinger."

"But she can't make you feel good like I do, can she?" You slapped her thigh harshly, to which you ignore her surprised gasp too—you knew she could handle much more anyway, "Nobody else can have you all pliant and breathless like this. Not her, not anyone."

Arlecchino actually makes a move to nod instead of standing there all dumb, "Only.. Only for you.. my love, I--"

"Only for me?"

"Yes..!"

Answering like an over-eager dog. Actually hilarious.

You stand up and press your fingers harshly inside of her, and just when she feels utter delight in tbe thought of you finally granting mercy on a sinner such as her?

"Move."

"..What?"

"You heard me, my love," the affectionate pet name overshadowed by your mocking tone, "if you want to get off, then move. Surely you can manage such a simple task, right?"

It's unsaid that you want her to move on her own to show her dedication to you...

But either she caught on or she was desperate for the feeling of you inside her, for she leaned her head and started to grind her pussy onto your offered hand.

Only you were allowed to command her like this.

Need to constantly alternate between edging her and overstimming her, both to such UNBEARABLE levels bc SURELY she can handle it 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Absolutely use her in ANY way you could think of; by this point she's a hole for you to use and vent your jealousy to, all while repeating some kinda mantra about how Columbina could never do the things you do to her

Remind her that only YOU could make her feel the things she does, remind her that only YOU could have her bend to your will, both literally and metaphorically. Doesn't matter to you how powerful she is!! Could be an eldrich horror and you don't gaf

At the end of the day, you have utterly corrupted her—trained her—in the ways that she (or anyone) had never imagined. You've absolutely ruined her for everyone else

You just. Need to remind her with a LOT of torture 🥰 break this supposed monster all over again, make her remember just who, exactly, tamed her 🥰🥰🥰

Whether it's by stuffing her with so many toys all in the lowest settings or absolutely filling her up over and over and over and OVER until all traces of the angel-like Harbinger is completely fucked out of her mind 🫶🫶🫶🫶

[lostinforestbound]

It's here after many weeks, the 10k one-shot to celebrate 200 followers, but I suppose it's also to celebrate 300 followers as well! I meant for 300 to be a different celebration but that's okay! I'm sure I'll make something else for the next milestone!

Requested Tags: @dutifullylazybread @heytheresunflower @barbwillbrb

Rolan/GN!Tav

I Shouldn't Love You Like You Are Mine

Rolan has too much to do with so little time. Becoming the new Master of Ramazith's tower is proving more complicated than the wizard have ever thought. On top of it all, he has a deep infatuation with Tav, the hero who saved him and his family many times. He knows he has no chance with them, so he has settled on hopelessly pining and dreaming. One day, Tav rushes into the shop in a panic, and he could have never in his wildest fantasies expect what they request of him.

Word Count: 10k (Don't like Tumblr? Read on AO3 instead!)

Relevant Tags: Rolan's POV, Makeout Diversion, Smut, Lorroakan Bashing

Beta Reader: @el-tur-el (Thank you so much for your help T!!!)

NSFW under cut, Minors DNI

The air is stale, the scent of electricity still strong in the space that surrounds him, the taste of blood on his tongue from when his sharp teeth gashed the inside of his mouth. He's sore, bruised, burned, somewhat electrocuted by the way some of his muscles spasm still, but he's alive. Tav is long gone with their companions, and all that is left is him and a dead man.

When staring down at the body of his spine-broken master, Rolan is not sure of how he's supposed to feel. At first, he felt a genuine joy that he had not felt in many years. The adrenaline was still high at the time, and he proudly remarked that he would turn the tower inside out to find its secrets and share them with the world. He always has been ambitious, that is what got him this far, after all. Tav seems happy for him, and he ignores how it made his heart pound even more.

As he stands alone in the room, he questions whether he's supposed to feel something now that the joy has faded within the span of minutes. Some kind of liberation? Or perhaps his emotions are fighting each other in his psyche, making him feel everything and nothing all at once. The man who tortured him, who beat him like he was a misbehaving dog he didn't even want, who refused to teach him anything about wielding the weave, lays dead by his feet. He can't help but think that he looks pathetic now, face twisted in permanent fear even after death.

He spits on his face as a final 'fuck you'. He hopes he rots in the deepest pits of the hells that he was once dragged to.

Running his stiff hands down his face, he tries to think of what to do first. He has to get rid of this body, it can't stay here lying around. It will decay and stink more than Lorroakan already has. Grabbing a fistful of the dead man's hair, he drags his body towards the balcony. He could throw his body over the railing, it would be insult to injury, but no. He will do something much worse.

He digs into the stray backpack at the edge of the railing and takes out a disintegration scroll, one that he knew Lorroakan hid out here as a backup plan in case a fight doesn't go his way. Without thinking too much on it, he casts the spell on the body, and Lorroakan disappears into ash.

His former teacher was now erased, made into nothing, and no one will remember or miss him. A fate worse than death, in Rolan's opinion.

Almost numbly, he heads back inside the main room and tries to find cleaning supplies. There's so much blood on the floor, and it did not help he made a trail while dragging the body. He wishes Tav was still here so he could demand they clean their mess up, where he wouldn't notice his tail flicking back and forth in irritation. Would they bother listening to him? Maybe not, but at least they would be there, just a little longer. Just enough time for him to pine once more.

Lia is right, he's a very selfish creature.

A couple of mage hands bring a bucket of water and an unused mop over. He is taken aback, as he thought they would have disappeared in Lorroakan's absence. Although, these could have been Ramazith's, wherever that wizard is now. It doesn't matter, either way. They're his now.

He dunks the mop into the water and starts swiping across the floor, noticing how as he cleans, the white cloth of the strands turn red. There's so much godsdamned blood, it will take him forever to clear the mess. There's a lot of blood on him, too. Specks and splatters of blood paint his hands crimson, long dried onto his red skin. His mentor's blood. Lorroakan's blood.

He helped murder a man, today. He killed someone. His blood is on his hands as much as it may be on the Nightsong's. Or Tav's.

An unsuspected shudder runs through his body, and he feels sick. He chalks it up to his adrenaline rush going down too quickly, ignoring the feeling as he swipes the mop across the floor.

The hairs on his neck stand on end as he feels the crackle of the weave, warning him someone is coming through the portal. Part of him hopes it would be Tav; he wants to talk to them again. Maybe they can help him with the cleanup, laughing about how they left him here without realizing it. He would stumble over his words like a fool, trying to be impressive in his pathetic state.

It's not Tav that arrives though, he recognizes Lia's quick footsteps anywhere. She's always been the fastest between him and Cal; they both could never beat her in a race, but he swears he lets her win.

"Rolan!" She shouts, quickly coming up to him along with Cal, whose heavier footsteps are right behind hers. "Finally! You kept talking up this tower and now we get to see it-"

"Wait, is that blood?" Cal immediately interrupts, face falling.

He must look horrendous, Rolan realizes. He got so busy cleaning the floor that he didn't even bother washing up first. Based on when he looked at himself that morning, the bruises should still be very prominent. Shit.

Lia bristles when she cups his face, looking at his injuries. "What is this?"

The silence that falls between them is telling. He knows she figured it out a long time ago, but she wants to hear him say it. "I'm fine, Lia. He was a horrible mentor, but it's not my blood on the ground."

"Tav told us they helped you kick his ass." Cal comments, trying to lighten their moods, "Looks like you did just that if this blood isn't yours."

"You should've killed him earlier, idiot!" She spits.

"I know, I know." He mutters, trying to speak even as Lia turns his face around to see the damage. "It's good to see you two."

"We missed you, brother," Cal says, gently moving Lia away and hugging him. "Please don't do that again. It was hard, without you."

Rolan lets out a sigh he didn't know he was holding, hugging Cal tightly. Lia joins in quickly after. When was the last time they held each other like this? He doesn't remember.

It feels nice.

While it doesn't last long, it is more than satisfactory for him. They help him with the clean up, Lia helping with the blood while Cal sweeps the floor with a broom. They take on more workload than Rolan wants, but he can't argue with them when they practically plead for him to rest. To be honest, he's unbelievably sore, and maybe sitting down for a bit wouldn't hurt.

It only takes his body a few minutes until it's antsy again, so he joins them quickly after.

And then he never stops moving.

He cleans, reorganizes, and keeps walking despite his beaten body screaming at him to stop. He can't stop, because if he does, he knows he will not want to get back up. He'll crash, and he can't afford that.

At the end of it all, he enters Lorroakan's room without thinking and is frozen in place. He's been in here before, but never for good reasons, only beatings. Is this not his room now that the original master is gone? But it reeks of his old mentors stench. He scrunches his nose as he looks at all the personalized decorations. They're hideous, all of the colors too bright to stare at, and most not matching with each other in terms of palette. There's not even a real theme and it makes him irate.

He remembers being beaten on this very floor for messing up a verbal component.

Enraged, he marches up to the bed and tears off the sheets, making a point to dig his claws into them so they would rip. The pillows are next, tossing them across the room and onto the floor. He'll need to replace every damn thing if he wants to use this bed. To use this room.

Unwanted memories start to flood into his mind as he tears the place apart, most of them being on the ground, where Lorroakan said he belonged. Beaten, burned, electrocuted, sometimes poisoned. A place where he was at his most pathetic. He often has nightmares about those late nights, but some of the worst ones were Tav walking in and seeing him like that, utterly broken on floor. They would never see him the same, and he doesn't know whether he prefers them to be disgusted by him or to feel pity.

He's close to a breakdown, having trouble getting air into his lungs before Cal and Lia comes in. "Rolan?"

With a slow sigh, he turns to look at them. "Why are you two up?"

Lia's eyes trail around the destroyed room, seeming to note the claw marks on the bed sheets discarded on the carpet. "Couldn't sleep." She says simply, giving a knowing look.

"Can we sleep with you?" Cal asks, rubbing the back of his neck, "Like when we were kids? Just for one night."

His jaw moves to start a pointless argument, but then snaps shut. They're both not children anymore, they can sleep by themselves. He can sleep by himself. However, he cannot deny that he craves the affection it would bring. He hasn't been this long without them, no matter how much he complained about them being clingy before.

"All right." He says quietly after taking a deep breath, "Not in here, though. Come."

He quietly leads them to the comparatively bland room Lorroakan gave him in Sorcerous Sundries. It isn't terrible, but he realizes that the bed is way too small for the three of them. Thankfully, he had a remedy. He adjusts an enlarge spell and makes the bed wider, and they all settle down on top of it easily.

Lia makes him stay in the middle while she settles on his right side, Cal climbing over carefully to lay on his left. Honestly, he misses having them so close.

"Rolan?" Cal speaks up as Lia pulls up the blanket.

"Hm?"

"Can you make a light show for a little bit?"

Rolan can't help but smile, slowly closing his eyes before opening them up again and raising his hands. "Any requests?"

"Make it look like flowers blooming." Lia says instantly, draping an arm around his middle.

He huffs before murmuring a few words, a burst of colors appearing in the air. Like asked, they take form of flowers blooming, petals falling near them gently. It's gorgeous.

It fades after a minute though, the exhaustion finally catching up to him as he falls asleep. If Cal and Lia were bothered by it not lasting, they don’t say a word.

For the first time in years, his night is not plagued by nightmares.

---

As soon as he wakes, Rolan does not stop moving.

He's the new master of Ramazith's tower, there is so much to do with so little time. The Absolute's army is on its way and he needs to gather everything he can to protect his siblings, and to protect Tav.

Tav doesn't need protecting, he knows that all too well, but he needs to do something. Anything at all. He needs to prepare the arcane cannon, but there is so much research to be done. On top of it all, he wants to be able to focus on his studies, but then run a shop at the same time.

He barely eats the toasted bread he haphazardly made for himself, too distracted by the logs Lorroakan left behind. There's so many customers he needs to take care of, including deliveries. Maybe he could repurpose the animated armor to make the deliveries, but that could be shaky as they're unstable. Well, Lorroakan's magic was always weakly done...he could rework the sigils. He'll have to rework everything in this place, actually.

Gods, everything is such a fucking mess. He knows he needs help, but respectfully, he wants everything a certain way and his siblings won't be able to give him what he wants. Tav would be able to understand-

He stops reading, surprising himself with his thought. Tav? Why would he think Tav would know how he likes things? It's ridiculous. But he can imagine it, them carrying books around with whatever means and placing them in alphabetical order, then by subject. They would tease him about being so stingy with what books go where on the bookshelf.

And they would laugh. Not quite at him, but laugh nonetheless. It's such a perfect sound in his ears, and the thought of it makes the tip of his tail flick about. Damn it all!

He's been thinking about them a lot, unfortunately. Ever since the Shadow Cursed Lands, where they succeeded in saving his siblings where he could not, an infatuation began to settle in his heart. He had half the mind to possibly confess, but immediately pushed it out of his mind. There was no possible way they would feel the same. He's too bitter, too arrogant, and he saw the way they looked at Gale, someone who is much more accomplished than he is. It is a fondness that he never received once in his life, and certainly not by them. He was jealous of it, but jealousy is an ugly little trait to have, so he gave up on dwelling.

The feelings never went away, no matter how much he wants them too.

He wants to say more to them, especially after they saved his sorry tail again during the fight up in the tower. They left before he could, he was too dazed staring at the mess the Nightsong made of his former master. He regrets being too out of it to say anything proper.

What would he have told them anyways? He doubts anything worthwhile. Probably a weak apology and an even weaker attempt to express his feelings. In the end, they would reject him, no doubt. He messed up too many times, back in the Shadow Cursed Lands, even if they accepted his apology for lashing out.

So he continues on and tries to forget, organizing the scrolls at the front counter of Sorcerous Sundries. His nose scrunches in irritation at the disorganization of it all. Was Lorroakan always like this? They aren't even categorized in the right sections, its horrendous. Diabolical. A sin on this shop.

Frustration straining his brow, he lays them flat on the counter to decipher where they should go, ignoring the ache that sits subtly in his bones. He hasn't had the chance to heal himself, so the bruises are still very prominent. It doesn't matter, he can take care of it later.

He knows deep in his heart that later will never come.

In the middle of his thought, one of the front doors burst open. Someone runs in and...well, he doesn't recognize them, but he does see the illusion aura that surrounds their figure. He's about to yell at them about their audacity, but their disguise instantly fades when they close.

It's Tav, in all of their wonderful glory.

"Tav?" He asks dumbly as they rush the to the counter.

They urgently hop over the counter and grab his wrist, and he actively has to suppress a wince by the force. "I need help. Hurry!"

Without a chance of responding, they drag him along towards one of the rooms along the side of the shop. They practically throw him in there.

The door slam briefly echoes in the room, and he barely has time to react before the back of his thighs meet the desk inside. He hisses, the bruises still fresh, “What in the hells are you doing?”

“I need a diversion. I was disguised but the Flaming Fist followed me.” They state, starting to open up the front of their tunic to make a mess. “Let me kiss you.”

He hates how the tip of his tail stands at attention, and thank the gods they don’t notice it. “What.”

“We’re kissing. Now. Just-“ They groan, loosening their shirt more to make themselves look like a mess. “-I need to make it look like I was busy. Rolan, please?”

He should say no. Everything is screaming at him to say no. But he is a weak man, and he’s dreamed that he could have them in his arms. Or be in their arms, it didn’t matter to him.

As soon as he gives a nod, they grab the front of his collar and pull him in, kiss searing. It takes everything in his being not to moan at the contact, especially when they loosen his hair properly to make it fall past his ears. They don’t touch them, much to his relief.

Pretending to put on the same act as them, he presses into them enthusiastically, letting their tongue in when it pries at his teeth. He fell out of control so quickly that he doesn’t know how to pick himself back up. He had half the mind to let them have their way with him. Blood rushes down south when their hand slides up his clothed stomach, sweat beading on the back of his neck as the muscles tense and quiver. Their touch was firm, demanding, and the voice in his head screams at him to not deny them for a moment. How long has he been waiting for something like this to happen?

Before he could panic about his dick twitching in interest at their ministrations, the door flies open. It startles Tav enough to where they bite his lip on accident, making him jolt.

A group of Flaming Fist freeze at the door, taking in the scene before them.

Rolan reacts quickly with his typical sneer, sitting up straighter and trying to ignore Tav being between his legs. “Do you mind?”

“Well, sir-“ One starts but the other, a commander most likely, cuts them off.

“There’s a suspected thief that we believe ran into here.”

“So you decided to almost break down one of my doors?” He questions, making a show of magic to fix his hair up. Tav moves away with their arms crossed in front of their chest, looking annoyed.

“We apologize, sir, but this thief is-“

"Excuse me?" Tav states, putting on an offended face. "How dare you! I am not a thief! I've been in this shop for a while now, unless you are accusing me of stealing from here?"

Rolan comes in before the Commander starts to retort. “My partner, no, my associate could not have been a ‘thief’ as they have been here with me for the past fifteen minutes. And this chase happened how long ago now?”

One of the other Flaming Fists glances up at the clock in the room. “…Five minutes.“

The man to their right smacks them upside the head.

“And what did they look like?” Rolan continues.

“A pale half-orc, short hair with a blue blouse, but-“

He raises a hand to silence them, as if they were misbehaving children. “Then I believe we are done here, as my associate is wearing nothing of the sort and does not look like what you described. Now, unless you are here to buy something or set a donation for the rebuilding fund of the shop, you will kindly leave the premises of Sorcerous Sundries this instant. I expect a formal apology by the end of this week.”

In all honesty, it's funny how lost these Flaming Fist look. They seem unsure of what to do. As Tav scoffs and looks away, it seems as though they're trying not to laugh. He has to fight the smile that's teasing the corners of his mouth, staring at all the blustering Fists as they figure out what to do. Reluctantly, frustrated and angry, they exit out of the office and leave the shop with their tail in between their legs.

He brushes himself off when the heat dies down, finally able to compose himself. “What the hells were you doing? Are you mad?!”

They finally let out the laugh they were holding, straightening themselves out. “I blew up a Fireworks shop. An Absolute Cultist was running it! Who knew? To answer your second question, maybe a little bit. It's been a tough day.”

"And you thought you could just run in here while I was working? Making the Flaming Fist dirty my floors after I just had Cal clean it?!"

"I'm sorry Rolan, I panicked. I wasn't thinking." They say, seeming genuinely apologetic.

He could barely focus, mind still catching up with the events. Is he truly this easy? All they had to do was demand a kiss and he would follow them, like a lovesick puppy? He's ashamed of himself, and he didn't even notice them speaking again.

"Rolan?"

"What?"

"How are you?" They ask sincerely.

He straightens himself up and gets back into his usual facade. "I am well enough. This shop and the tower is a horrid mess, so I've already been spending time reorganizing the texts. Lorroakan barely knew his alphabet. They were not even organized by subject!"

They laugh at that, and gods, the sound makes his heart pound, but afterwards they frown at him, eyes scanning to his face. "You're still bruised."

"I haven't had the time to take care of them. There is too much to do."

They dig into their pack and hold out what he recognizes as a superior healing potion. "Here. If you're going to work, at least heal up. Did I hurt you earlier?"

He slowly takes it, perplexed, "It is nothing I can't handle."

"I'm sorry." They murmur.

"I appreciate your apology, and I forgive you." He states, uncorking the bottle and drinking down the potion.

Instantly, the deep set ache and soreness of his form fades to something less painful. Its like a warm hug, and he feels energized.

They give him a soft set smile as he places the bottle down on the desk. "You look a lot better."

Gods, if he could, he would crush the fluttering feeling the compliment gave him. "Excuse you, I always look better. Now, besides that whole mess that you created, was there anything else you needed from me?”

"I want to make purchases...and barter?" They squeak out.

He sighs heavily, opening the door back up for them, "Of course you do. All right, what do you have for trade then?"

They head out to the counter with a skip to their step. "I promise it's worth it!"

---

Tav ended up having plenty of things to trade, including heavy set armor, rings, and magic items they don't need anymore. Thankfully not all fortune is lost, as they give some coin for high level spell scrolls. A Globe of Invulnerability...how interesting. He knows they are out and about adventuring, but what would they need that kind of spell for? How do they even have the gold to afford it??

They were out the door before he can ask them, clearly in a hurry to get somewhere. "Thank you Rolan!"

A little defeated, he continues on with the rest of his day. Organizing, organizing, and even more organizing. This place is such a shit show, it will take him ages before everything is how he wants it to be. Cal always teased him about having his socks color coded in his drawers.

He plops onto a fresh bed at the end of the day. This was Lorroakan's bed, but Cal and Lia helped him out with cleaning the room. New mattress, new sheets, new blankets, and even new pillows. They tore down the hideous tapestries and paintings he had, and he plans to change the wall into a new color. He still needs to personalize the room to how he likes, but now it was his. No trace of Lorroakan is found here. He idly wonders how Tav decorated their room, or if they have a home to go back to. They're still a mystery to him.

As he lays there, staring at the patterned ceiling, he finds it strange he has a room to himself. It's nice, and he's never had more privacy than now. Sometimes Lorroakan entered in his room at odd hours to start a lesson at his leisure. If he wasn't a light sleeper before, he is now due to the man's random visits. Now here he is, laying his bed, with his nights uninterrupted for the most part.

He has privacy.

...He’s pent up, isn’t he?

Through all the beatings and stress, he never took time to himself and get off. He was worried about getting caught by his mentor. On top of it all, he was too exhausted and hurt to even do much for himself, some nights barely having energy to bathe. But now…

With a sigh, he summons a mage hand to grab a book for him. When was the last time he read a smut book? Half a year, maybe more? Even then, he wouldn’t indulge too much as he never had a lot of privacy. With this large bedroom, the walls being silenced, and the time he now has, he will indulge for a little bit. For one night.

As he reads, there’s not much to go off. This one is poorly written, but he can at least give himself an idea. His mind sketches out a neutral form, no identifying…parts, yet. He’s indecisive, but he’s sure he’ll come up with someone satisfactory for the night.

Usually, his fantasies contain anonymous people with no face, or they wear a mask. It’s less embarrassing than thinking of someone directly. Sometimes they take him from behind, pinning the back of his neck to a table while they rail into him. Others he has someone under him, thrusting into them and littering bites on their neck.

For now, he imagines a person of no specific gender yet, holding him close in a crushing grip and devouring his mouth. It leaves him no room to breathe as he’s pinned to the wall, their thigh between his legs pressing up against his growing erection. Heat gathers south embarrassingly quickly, the tent of his pants tightening. What is Tav like in bed?

As soon as that question pops into his head, the blank person he tried to fantasize about turns into Tav. It shocks him how vivid it is, and he immediately sits up, book falling flat on the mattress as he drops it. No no no, absolutely not. They’re a friend.

A friend who pulled him in by the collar to kissed him with reckless abandon. A friend that was ready to pin him down on his desk. A friend who stroked a finger along his jaw to help him relax into their mouth.

Hells.

His fingers trail down his stomach and into his trousers, taking himself in hand. What’s the harm of indulging in this? They kissed, after all. All of their wonderful features are fresh in his mind. As he teases the underside of his shaft, he imagined it was their hand instead of his own. Precum was already beading at the tip, and he uses it to slick up his cock. He still feels their hands on him, pressing and demanding. He wonders what they would’ve done if they had more time. Are they gentle or rough when they stroke? He’s not sure whether he prefers one or the other yet.

None of this would happen, they have many suitors at their disposal. But damn it all, he could dream that they chose him, in the end.

Gods.

He covers his mouth tightly with his free hand, almost painfully as he thrusts up into his other one. This room is covered in silencing sigils, it’s not like anyone would hear him from the outside, but even he doesn’t want to hear his shameful sounds.

He feverishly switches to a different fantasy, this one containing Tav once more, though this time he isn’t complaining.

They’re both deep in the woods, away from the Tiefling party. They saved them all from the goblins, they deserved some compensation, did they not? Tav is pressed against his back, one hand putting two fingers in his mouth, rolling the muscle of his tongue between them while the other jacks him off. He’s utterly helpless, Tav taking control of his pleasure for him in the best ways as he helplessly grips the bark of a tree. They would tell him how good he was, how much they wanted him, how lovely his moans were. That he was handsome, strong, and worthy.

That they loved him-

Strings of white decorate his stomach, his climax coming with a stuttered gasp. It came more quickly than he thought it would, and his body spasms with how intense it is. The cry that climbs up his throat stops short by his hand.

He massages himself through it, feeling dazed and utterly pathetic. How dare he think about Tav in this way, as if they were an object for his pleasure? They’re not his, and he’s not theirs, no matter how much he wants to be. What would they say if they saw him like this, desperate and lustful even after his orgasm?

Gods, he wants them so badly, and he knows he can never have them.

Catching his breath, he feels disgusting. Filthy. He shouldn't think of them at all, he hasn't earned that right to them. It's pitiful.

To remedy his sin, he gets out of his bed and heads to the washroom. It's grand in comparison to his lowly basin in the shop, and he's unsure where to start now that he has access to it. Firstly, he takes out a Create Water spell scroll and casts it, filling the entire tub with water. He then modifies the Produce Flame spell to heat up the water. That will do for now, he'll figure out how to make the process a lot quicker later.

He takes off his soiled nightwear, stepping into the water with a slight hiss. All right, maybe he made it a little too hot, but it's nothing he can't handle. Lorroakan has burned him worse. As soon as he gets to the hip line, he pours lavender oil into the steaming water and sinks in completely. He's heard of the scent being beneficial for sleep, mostly from Tav. He wonders if they are an herbalist- no, no, he isn't supposed to be thinking about them.

Emptying his mind is proving harder than he thought. No thanks to his previous transgression, Tav's face plagued him. Questions pop up without him wanting them to: how does Tav look when flustered? Are they experienced with intimacy? Do they like pain? Are they sweet? What is their perfect date? How do they show their love-

He dunks himself fully into the water before the thought could finish, and he feels the sting of the hot water against his face as he sits under the surface. Finally, his mind is silent, so he holds his breath as long as he could. It's oddly soothing, just being alone under the water. A perfect escape to everything around him. He may just have to do this more often.

Unfortunately, he has not done any training to hold his breath, so he has to come up for air within thirty seconds. Perhaps he should practice, but that's for another time.

Now that his hair was thoroughly wet, he begins washing and conditioning his hair, giving himself a scalp massage while he was at it. He didn't trust the mage hands to do it for him. They were floating in the corner, waiting for a command. Can mage hands pout? It feels as though that's exactly what they're doing. Why are they so eager to help anyways? He should dismiss them when he has the time.

After dunking under the water again to wash out all the products, he exits the bath carefully, using Prestidigitation to instantly dry himself. Ah, what would he do if he didn't have that spell on hand? It is incredibly convenient. Can Tav use magic for mundane tasks?

He pauses as he slides on a robe. Gods damn it, it's happening again! That didn't last too fucking long, now did it?

With a groan, he marches back into the bedroom and towards the balcony, pushing the doors open. The night hair hits him immediately, sending a brief chill through him before calming. With a heavy sigh, he goes to the railing and leans against it, watching the silent city of Baldur's Gate. The lanterns have long burned out, and the stars are blooming above him, but he can't relax. He's desperate for Tav, and it's pitiful.

Pressing his forehead on the cold stone, he realizes what a miserable, selfish, wretched creature he is. After all of those things, he's somehow still hopeful. Why else would they kiss him like that? Is he reading too much into this?

Though, perhaps, instead of dwelling on unwanted thoughts, he should just let them go. Lia always did say he thinks too much. Cal mentioned it could be quite damaging on one's psyche.

So he lets the thoughts flow. All of the domestic ones and all of the lustful ones, too. He flickers through memories of he and Tav's interactions, thinking of what could have been and where he went wrong. The shouting, the aggression, the drinking. Gods, the drinking. He hasn't touched wine in a while because of it.

Then he lets it all go.

He raises his head, taking a deep, long breath of the fresh night air. He's in Baldur's Gate. They all made it. The Absolute's army is about to knock on their door, but just for tonight, at least in this moment, he's calm. He's okay.

Maybe he'll be okay later, too.

After an hour, he makes it to his bed and lulls himself to sleep, pulling up the thickest parts of the blanket to hold. It manages to lull him to sleep. A success, in Rolan's tired mind.

There's so much to do with so little time.

---

A tenday has passed and Tav has not returned.

It's for the best that they don't come, as they continuously plague Rolan's mind. He can't stop thinking about them, no matter how much he distracts himself. Most of them are lustful and depraved, some of which make him feel utterly ashamed. He has no right to think of them in this way.

Though, it's the other thoughts that confuse him the most.

They're domestically blissful. He imagines waking up in bed with them, nuzzling into their hair as they convince him to stay a few more moments. He imagines dates, lacing his fingers through theirs while telling them how stunning they are. He imagines it's their body that he pulls close late at night, and not a spare pillow he squeezes to his chest.

He hates these thoughts more than most, as it makes him silently grieve what could've been if he weren't such an arrogant prick. What if he was nicer to them when they first met? Would they have approached him a third time at the party and invite him to their tent? Embarrassingly, he's been losing more sleep than usual over the what if's, and it's making him sloppy with his work. Papers were scattered, he keeps losing his books, and ink stains have been appearing on his robes more and more lately. Unacceptable.

Is he truly this pathetic, losing sleep over domestic thoughts with someone unreachable? Is he that lonely? Does he crave company that badly? It is a wizard's curse, surely.

He thought he got over this, but it seems he needs more than one night to 'let go' of them. Damn it all, why can't this be easier?

He shakes his head, regaining his focus of the task at hand. Rearranging the scrolls once more, he stands onto his feet again and brushes the dust off of his robe. He proudly places his hands on his hips. Finally, after so many days, he has the counter exactly how he wants it. Everything is organized, not a speck of dust in sight, all of it is beautifully-

One of the doors slam open again by a gust of wind, and rage fills him to the core. Why, oh why are the gods so against him? Now there's dirt of the floor, he just made Krank sweep it all out!

The anger disappears instantaneously when he sees Tav rush through the door, sweat beading on their brow and their face flushes from exertion. Extremely similar to how they appeared last time-

Oh no.

As they rush past the counter to the same room they both in before, he starts following them without thinking. What in the hells was he doing?! This can only lead to something terrible for him, even if Tav would be none the wiser. Why does he torture himself like this? He finally has everything he could ever want, yet he greedy for more. For the one thing he can never hope to have.

But they need him, and he could never deny them.

He quickly enters the room after them, shutting the door on his way in. Thankfully this room is more presentable this time around, but he doubts Tav will notice it. They have never been one to look at the finer details. At least from what he has seen, it's not as if he spent much time around them. That thought makes jealousy swell in his chest.

"I need help again." Tav states, rustling up their clothes.

"I can see that," He sasses, but Tav is already pushing off the mantle that sits on his shoulders before pulling him into a kiss, hand fisting the front of his robes.

What has he done to deserve this punishment? Are the Gods testing him by dangling his one desire in front of him? They should know he's too weak to resist their touch.

He gasps into their mouth when they pin him to the wall, free hand grasping the back of his thigh. They easily put their leg in between his, which puts him in a daze. Is this truly an act if they would go this far, or are they testing his boundaries? The worst part about this is he never wants them to stop. He wants them to keep going and reduce him to a pitiful, breathless mess.

They're already succeeding in that, it seems.

When he feels them try to pry his teeth open, he lets them, tangling his tongue with theirs. The noise is so lewd in his ear, a blush immediately rising to his face at the intimacy of it all. He thought about this situation constantly, both through the actual memory and then to his fantasies. Though, fantasy is nothing compared to their real hand tracing the skin of his exposed neck, mapping out the dips and curves of his adam's apple. Images flash through his mind of them choking him, not to hurt, but to claim. He honesty hopes they would do so, but alas, their hand trails up to cup his jaw instead.

This action only made him more flustered, and while he doesn't understand why, he accepts it all the same and leans into their hand. No one has ever touched his face like this in many, many years. Usually it was hit or slapped, no thanks to his teacher. Even when their touch is as gentle as a dove, he can't help but flinch when their thumb strokes along his cheekbone. They pull away from the kiss, catching their breath with a question on the tip of their tongue.

As if the world is playing a joke, those same Flaming Fists burst the door open. They look surprised once again.

"Again?!" He shouts at them, bristling and baring his teeth.

"Do you fucking mind?" Tav yells after, giving them a hard-earned glare.

The Flaming Fists do not bother arguing again, turning heel and leaving the shop without another word. They look foolish, doing their walk of shame. At least they were quick about it, Rolan did not feel like giving them another lecture.

"How do you do, Rolan?" They tease, a hand still fisting his sleeve.

It is a miracle how he keeps his composure. "Well enough, I suppose. Now, as I said earlier, again?"

"There's a perfectly good explanation."

"Then?"

"They were assholes so I stole their money."

"I'm inclined to agree. They are quite intrusive in their searches. Though, must have you lead them here again? I just had Krank clean the floors of the shop from bottom to top!" He complains, running a hand down his face as he stabilizes his footing, "Now I'll have to command him to do it all over again. At least the bottom part."

"I know, I'm sorry to do this to you again. I can make it up to you!" The say quickly before taking a pause. "Wait, you reanimated Krank?"

"Despite being Lorroakan's, he still had his uses." He drawls, suddenly feeling trapped in their space. "Clearly weaponry is not the armors calling, so I have him clean the floors in the morning and at night. There hasn't been any complaints."

"It's animated armor, Rolan. It can't complain."

"I meant complaints from the customers, you absolute dunce!" He snaps and immediately regrets it, but Tav bursts out in a fit of laughter at his insult.

Never has he understood what was so funny about them being insulted. Does he look like a fool doing so? Are they laughing at him? He should be angry over it but he most likely deserves it.

"Well, I feel terrible for dragging you in here twice," They giggle, wiping a stray tear from their eye. "So I want to make it up to you."

"And how do you suppose you'll do that?" He challenges.

"Well, we already got the first part of it started, if you're interested." They tease, voice low.

Oh gods.

"We could take it further. I can feel your little friend down there, and I'm more than happy to help." They murmur in his ear.

A cold sweat hits him in that instant. This is his worst nightmare. He wants it, gods does he want it so badly, but if he accepts it there will be no turning back for him.

They attempt to cup his cheek but he turns his face away, gently pushing them.

“Rolan?”

“I can’t do this.” He says, unable to look them in the eye, but he feels the way they tense.

Before they can start apologizing, he continues, “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the Shadow-Cursed Lands, I think. I adore many things about you. But you keep holding me like this, kissing me, and it's starting to make me believe that there will be more than this, one day. When The Absolute is gone, and Baldur's Gate is safe, you would do me the honor of considering me as a...companion."

"Oh, Rolan..."

"I refuse to be a side piece, someone who will be at your beckon call whenever you're bored. You’re tugging at my heart as if it’s your plaything, and while I know you have not done this on purpose, I can't handle it anymore."

He exhales sharply, tilting his face up when he feels tears sting his eyes. "Please, do not torture me like this and just go. Leave."

When he’s met with silence, he swallows and blinks away the wetness of his eyes. He knew that he never had a chance, and that their affections were never real. How could his savior ever look at him like he looked at them? But that diversion of theirs was so wonderful, and for at least a temporary moment, he felt wanted. Desired.

Loved.

He knew he couldn’t continue. It is selfish of him and he would’ve been setting himself up for heartbreak.

Tav leans in close, eyes tender as they tilt his chin back down. “Rolan…I’ve been a fool. I thought I was being obvious.”

He finally can look at them in the eye. “What?”

They can't help but chuckle, but it is a good natured one, “I’m in love with you too, idiot. Why do you think I would keep seeing you in this way?” They ask, tucking some hair behind his ear. “I'm so sorry, I should have been more forward with you. I never meant to hurt your heart like this, you mean too much to me."

He must be dreaming, he has to be, but he can feel the of their body pressing against him. They want him too, and it makes his heart want to burst out of his ribcage. He isn't aware of the blush that rises in his face at their confession, making his already red skin grow crimson.

They carefully cup his face again, pressing their forehead against his, being mindful of his horns. "I'm sorry Rolan, truly. Could you ever forgive me?"

His adam's apple bobs with his swallow, but his face remains a stern look. "...Your apology seems genuine, and I forgive you."

"Well good, I was worried that I just fucked up my chance." They huff with a smile, gently pinning him against the wall once more. "Now, would you like me to try this again and kiss you?”

“Please.” He whispers instantly, tail coiling around their leg.

It was unclear who pulled in first, but what mattered is their hands were all over each other as they kiss fiercely. He felt one of their hands move back and grip the base of his tail. A pathetic whimper escapes his mouth, pleasure shooting up his spine. Tav happily nips his bottom lip in response before pulling away. “I want to see your bedroom, Rolan. Now.”

"As you wish." He responds breathlessly.

Using Dimension Door, he teleports the both of them to the top of the stairs of Sorcerous Sundries, pulling them through the portal and into the tower. This is a totally inappropriate use of one of his higher level spells, but his mind is in a sexually charged place. He'll chastise himself for it later.

His grip on their hand is tight, sweat gathering there as he teleports them again to the bedroom. It isn't customized to his liking quite yet, but it at least has the colors he wants. Deeper blues mixed with other calming colors to help him sleep. He doubts Tav is admiring the features with the way they pull him onto the mattress.

When they both settle in the bed, Tav quickly gets undressed, unclipping the armor and ripping off their under clothes in one fell swoop. Whatever he though their body looked like in his dreams, the real thing is so much better. Any little scar or texture change, he either wants to trace with his fingers or with his tongue. As they lay back and spread their legs, he reaches for them.

They gently smack his hand away when he tries to touch their chest, smirking. “No. You will sit back all pretty and watch.”

His mouth goes dry, surprised at the sudden command, but would he truly be a student of the Weave if he did not know how to listen to directions? He does as told, sitting back on his feet.

"Do you have oil in here?" They question.

"Right side, top drawer."

They crawl over and grab it, settling back into position as they drizzle the product onto their fingers. They make a show of it, too, playing with the substance between their fingers before their hand trails down in between their legs, locking eyes with Rolan.

He swallows as he watches them open themselves up, all for him. It sends his mind reeling with lust, and he’s still not allowed to touch. Torture, is what it is. They have him exactly where they want him, and he is not complaining one bit. Not in his wildest imagination could he have though of this scenario. It's incredible. They're incredible.

As they go on languidly slow, he starts feeling hot all over. His clothes feel too suffocating around his body, his trousers unbelievably tight. It takes everything in him not to palm his growing erection, biting a lip to stifle a small moan that threatens to escape his throat.

“I want to watch you take all those layers off, Rolan. It’s not fair if I’m the only one naked.” They demand, hooking their fingers inside of themselves and groaning.

He responds by finally taking off that mantle that sets heavy on his shoulders. They watch him unblinking as he instantly gets his robes off, seeing the tent in his smalls that expresses his want. It looks painful. He throws the robes, shoes, and smalls off somewhere in the room, his cock now in the cold air, leaking.

They smirk at the sight, now curling three fingers in with a long winded moan. “Gods, I can’t wait to have you in me. I bet you feel so good, look at that…”

Have they always been this good with their words? They always have in his pathetic fantasies, but the real thing makes him twitch in need. He wants to touch them, feel their skin against his in a blaze of pleasure.

Alas, he has to wait.

Finally, they take their fingers out of themselves and sit back up. “I’m ready for you.”

“I want to touch you, Tav.” He admits, fingers twitching on the top of his thighs.

They crawl over to him and sit in his lap, breathing hard as they wrap their arms around his shoulders. “You may.”

He takes some small amount of comfort in that they’re as hot and bothered as he is, watching their flushed face before they crash their lips into his own.

He whines into their mouth, his cock trapped in between their stomachs. The friction is positively divine and he already thinks he may be close with the way their fingers trace the ridges on his back. They're mapping them out, pressing against the wing impressions on his shoulder blades and then trailing them down his spine. As soon as they reach the base of his tail, they tug on it once more.

A gasp shudders out of him when they grind against him. “Tav, if you keep doing that, I won’t last much longer.”

They hum in approval, sucking a hickey into the base of his throat. “What if I promise to make you come again?”

“Tav, please—”

“Okay okay.” They relent, moving back a little to give him some breathing room.

They stay in his lap as they pull him in for another kiss, and he joyfully obliges. Their tongues dance as he gropes their chest, mostly wanting to feel the unique textures of their skin. They’re perfect, to him. He wishes they were some sort of god, because at least then he would have an explanation for his need towards them. This unrelenting desire that he has pleaded for every night when he dreamt of them.

He has so many dreams, one that wake him in a sweat and painfully hard in his trousers. He made a theory that indulging would help the process of forgetting his desires, but it seems as though his hypothesis was wrong. Dead wrong. His dreams of them only became more vivid, some tricking him into thinking it was real. He mourned when he woke up those mornings, wondering why the Gods were torturing him with their image, their body, their face, their laugh.

Hells, he hopes he's not dreaming right now, they feel too real. He can feel them biting and tugging his lower lip, so he concludes that they were, in fact, here with him. Making him feel so much better than his wildest fantasies. Their nails bite into the back of his neck as they briefly deepen the kiss, before pulling themselves away, a string of saliva connecting them. For at least a moment, he catches his breath.

With a solid push to his chest, he falls back onto the bed with a soft thump. He pushes himself back up onto his elbows quickly, breathing harsh. At first, he’s worried he screwed something up. Did his nails hurt their skin? He should have blunt them this morning. But then they straddle his waist and take hold of his drooling hard-on, ready to sink onto him. “Hold still.”

As they lower themselves, stars burst behind his eyes as he takes them fully, their walls squeezing around him so deliciously. He bites back a moan that tries to work its way up his throat. Squeezing his eyes shut, he manages to hold himself together when they seat themselves onto him.

“Gods, you feel so fucking good Rolan.” They moan, clenching briefly around him until they finally relax. They do a test grind, and he knows he's hitting all the right places within them with the way their eyes flutter.

“So do you.” He says breathlessly, a light sheen of sweat already decorating his skin, pupils blown wide as his tail flicks about. The appendage instinctively reaches for something to hold onto. Anything at all. In the end, he settles with wrapping his tail around their waist, keeping himself grounded. They smile down at him when they feel it squeeze them.

He tries to reach for for their sides shakily, but they are more put together in this moment, and much faster. They take his hands, lacing their fingers through his, and pin them each besides his head. He’s only met with a grin before they start riding him with reckless abandon, gripping his hands unbelievably tight.

A groan that trails off into a whimper escapes his throat, hips subconsciously thrusting up into their tight heat. It felt positively divine feeling their walls clench around him, purposely teasing. They’re grinning, even when they toss their head back and moan. He squeezes their hands for dear life, already losing himself as their skin meets his. “Ah— Tav—“

“That’s it baby, I want to hear you.” They pant, leaning down and kissing him soundly. He lets their tongue pry his lips with ease, begging for a taste.

“I won’t last if— gods—“ he cries against their mouth, toes curling in the sheets.

“I don’t care, let me feel you. I want it.”

He curses when they clench around him again, clearly wanting to milk him dry, but he manages to stave his orgasm off. At least for a little bit. This felt so fucking good, he never wants it to end. But with the way they roll their hips, he’s not going to last. He wishes he could have last longer, giving them their pleasure the way they deserve after all of their hardship. They saved him, saved his siblings, saved the tieflings. Twice. Then they saved him for a third time. They did not have to, they could've walked away and let him lay with his poor choices. They didn't, and he's never seen them more angry than when they saw his bruised face.

His stomach suddenly tightens, giving him that impending warning he knows all too well in recent days. “C—Close, I’m close—“ he rasps.

“Me too. Fuck, you feel so good love.” They murmur thoughtlessly.

That nickname teeters him over the edge, and Rolan came with a cry in his throat. Tav was not far behind, fluttering around him as they came as well.

They breathe hard, resting on top of him and letting go of his hands. They instead use them to hold his heated face and kiss him gently. With his hands free, he wraps his arms around their back to pull them closer. He’s spent, exhausted, but he’s never felt more content as he kisses them.

Before they both could feel uncomfortable, he murmurs the words of prestidigitation and cleans them up as they rise off of his softening cock. They plop next to him on the bed, smiling tiredly.

“You were amazing.”

He laughs at that, wiping sweat off of his face. “I should be saying that to you.”

“Then we’re both amazing, hm?” They tease, scooting closer to his side. "Where did you learn how to fuck like that?"

"Must you be so vulgar?" He exasperates with a groan, making them laugh, "But if you must know, I have done extensive research on the subject."

"Ooooh research! What, did you study anatomy books?"

He groans, covering his face with his hands.

"Wait a minute, you have a smut collection?! This I have to see."

"Absolutely not!" He shouts, his face, neck, and ears now a deep crimson.

They burst out laughing, and as much as he wants to chastise them for it, he ends up laughing with them. He's never felt so light before now, as if he's finally feeling relief for all the trouble he's been through.

Gods, he's truly in love with them, isn't he?

"I can go for a round two, if you're up for it." They say after calming down their laughter.

He snickers at that, pecking heir forehead. "As much as that sounds wonderful, you've exhausted me for the day."

"Then how about some cuddling? Karlach always said I give great hugs."

He hums, pecking their cheek next as they wrap their arms around him. "I think I would like that, very much."

Letting out a deep rooted sigh, he feel all the tension in his body finally leave him. He should be disgusted by all the sweat gathered around them in the aftermath of their activities, but in this moment, he wouldn't have it any other way. There's time to complain about it later. Perhaps he can show them the bath he now uses. Would they be impressed by it? It certainly is better than whatever they have going on in the Elfsong Tavern. He wants to do everything to impress them, make himself worth their while even with the chaos that is their lives. But for now, he's calm.

For the first time, Rolan felt truly free.

"Does Krank know how to clean bed sheets?"

Snorting, he looks at them again. "I haven't made him try. He's decent at mopping and sweeping...somewhat. Why?"

"Just curious. It's cute how you just have a little servant now, cleaning the place."

"Krank is not a servant, he is an employee of my establishment."

"You don't pay him!"

"That is not the point! He works, does he not?"

They laugh, pressing their forehead against his. "Fine, fine, but why not make him clean your room, including the sheets?"

"He will mess them up! I know how to properly smooth it out and make this room look highly presentable."

"Oh, I'm sure you do...anyways, do you have a bath in here? I stink and feel sweaty." He barks out a laugh, reluctantly getting out of their arms and shuffling off the bed. "I do, it's in the next room over."

When he offers his hand to them, they happily take it as he leads them to the side room. The large bath presents itself, though it is empty right now. He should figure out a way for it to be ready automatically in any time of the day, but he'll work out the kinks later. He wants to show them that his fingers have talent in ways they wouldn't comprehend. All of it in the form of a heavenly scalp massage.

[lethby]

What's wrong with lesson 16 (everything)

A list by yours truly, who is about to collapse if she doesn't vent about it (TW: opinion lmao)

⍣ ೋ The time-travel shit

LITERALLY WHY

It creates so many problems and plot holes that could easily be avoided for no reason.

We leave everyone behind and it's never even addressed?? THEY'RE WAITING FOR US???

Barbatos, supposedly the one that cares about balance and timelines, just goes "well you're stuck here and I literally erased the other MC, good ending :D"

He told her "don't run into anyone" and she decides FIRST THING to head where all the noise is coming from, not trying to hide at all

⍣ ೋ No consequences whatsoever

It's awesome to know no one cared about MC dying

Sure, she's "alive" now, but everyone moved on so quickly??? Even Mammon, who was in the verge of a meltdown.

And it's all because we're Lilith's descendant how convenient

Even Belphie, our murderer who has hated humans for MILLENNIA, had a major switch up at this

Also, the brothers begin to completely disregard MC by treating her like Lilith

Look I understand, it's your dead sister and you miss her, BUT MC IS NOT HER. SHE IS HER OWN GODDAMN PERSON

But the worst part is... MC IS SO DAMN CHILL ABOUT IT

Even if she technically isn't the one who died, you'd expect some kind of uneasiness coming from her, SPECIALLY AROUND BELPHIE

Words can't express how much I hate it

⍣ ೋ Solution

I'm gonna make the devs a favor and fix their game

REVIVAL

MC JUST REVIVES FOR WHATEVER REASON (Lilith's will, the last remnants of her powers, Barbatos' precautions...)

Now you don't have to worry about too many plot holes, focusing on just one timeline

Also this allows her to remember her death, making her trauma more intense and veridical

I know it sounds crazy but if they could pull off lesson 16, they can pull this off

Make the brothers indecisive

They got their little brother back, but at what cost?

Everything is fine now, right? But it's not. MC is not "fine"

Make them conflicted between taking MC's side and comforting her but also welcoming Belphie and make up

MAKE MC UNCOMFORTABLE

I can't stress enough how important this part is

Give her TIME to evolve, develop as a character, and understand her feelings

She wouldn't want to be around Belphie, at all

She might not even wanna be around the others, seeing as they treat her like nothing happened

Make her upset, confused, feel like she doesn't belong, ANYTHING

MAKE HER GO THROUGH THE STAGES OF GRIEF

In fact, if you want to make her relationship with Belphie nourish, you can do that too by not just hey lol I killed you but I'm good now

Make her have nightmares

That's it

Make Belphie notice the dark circles under her eyes and the way she avoids him, then discover she has nightmares

The "now" Belphie could feel guilty

He might try to comfort her, only for her to shy away in response

Seeing as his apologies don't work this early into the trauma, he could enter her dreams and chase those nightmares away, every night, sacrificing his own sleep

THAT is a dynamic I want to see, personally

This could have been done with or without the time-travel, btw

In the time-travel, though, I was also missing some grieving from MC

Remember when I said to make the brothers conflicted? Make MC suffer more too

She wants to go back to her time, her universe, her family. They're waiting for her

But she also doesn't want to leave behind these demons, which have just found peace and happiness after a long time

Here's the catch, No matter what she chooses, she's forced to live her life regretting whatever decision she makes, since she can't make everyone happy and one side must suffer inevitably

An MC going through a heavy trauma and eventually (and slowly) overcoming it would just click with so many players

⍣ ೋ Conclusion

To me, the game didn't fully explore the feelings that going through that experience would bring for everyone, even if the idea itself was interesting. No, more like it didn't WANT to. Making MC go through all that would mean a lot of character development for a big amount of characters and little romance, which is what the game is about.

However, if you can't make that sacrifice, don't settle your game in a world rich in lore. And honestly, with all the explanations and back stories, I don't think obey me! is lacking on that. More so that, even if they were fully capable, they didn't want to go through all the trouble. Remember we're coming from an already fucked up scenario that took a lot of chapters.

Finally, this is just my opinion based on my experience. Of course, you don't have to agree with me in any way.

I have to say, that was relaxing lmaoo

Anyways, since I really like this idea and I've seen several people do it, I'm gonna make my own fanfic exploring how I think lesson 16 would have turned out realistically, hope you stay tuned!

Lethby ༊*·˚

[blerb-f1]

"Lost" - Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Charles celebrates too hard and gets lost. More news at 6

Find more on my masterlist!

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“Sir?”

“Sir!”

“Wah?”

Charles awoke as he felt his shoulder getting ruffled, eyes dry and hurting. His throat was dry.

“Sir, please get up. This train is finished cleaning, you have to leave”

‘Train?’, he wondered in confusion. Hadn't he just been celebrating his win in Monaco? He took a look at the person shaking him. She was a train attendant, pretty looking he might add. Her uniform was not flattering the least. A light blue t-shirt with a dark blue vest thrown over it. Her accent was german. He attempted to get out of his seat but stumbled, bad leg control.

She supported his shoulder. 

“Where am I?”

“Far off from any kind of civilisation you'd normally travel to, based on that watch on your arm” the attended reported. “The middle of nowhere, in Germany.”

Charles held his head. “I don't remember getting on this train at all.”

She looked at him with a lifted eyebrow. “Well, you had all the necessary tickets for your journey. Must have gotten them from somewhere.”

Together they walked outside of the train. The train station was small, one white painted building. Only two tracks, lot's off trees.

“Have you got anywhere to go to?”

Charles looked at her, thinking. Fumbling around his pocket resulted in nothing, his phone and wallet were gone. Shit.

“Apparently not. Let's just get going. You can stay the night with me, I've got space.”

“Can't I just take this train back to where I'm from?” Charles asked her in desperation.

“Good Joke, truly. This train runs every two hours during the day. And then you'd have to take more trains, none of which usually run in the night as well. Also, I've had a long day of work. I'm really, really beat up.”

Charles sighed. ‘What did I just get myself into? The people saying to not mix uppers and downers were right…’

She led him to her Car, a little silver Hyundai. Throwing her backpack in and settling into the driver's seat, she sighed in relief. “Finally done.”

“Done?”

“I've got the weekend off. Your arrival kinda ruined it but we gotta take the things as they come. I'm Y/N L/N. You?”

“Charles Leclerc”

“That sounds French”

“Monegasque”

“What? I don't know that word”

“I'm from Monaco!”

She looked at him in surprise.  “Now you're pulling my leg. You got here from MONACO? You must have taken like 10+ trains!”

“Urgs, not so loud. My head hurts”

“God.” She groaned as she inserted the car key, starting the little engine. “Move your hand”

“Huh?”

“Either you move your hand or you loosen the handbrake. I can't get it with you spreading over there”

Charles quickly lifted his arms in the air. “Isn't it Electric?”

She just looked at him exasperated. “Do I look like I'm shitting money? I can't afford a car that new. Unless you'd wanna pay one Mr. Money Bag over there.”

“Oi, that's rude”

“You're from Monaco, don't y'all bath in money and champagne? Now, let's just get going.”

The car ride was silent with Charles looking out of the windows. This really was the countryside. Trees, fields, cows and horses. Lots of half-timbered houses.

After half an hour of journey, with them passing over roads he'd never even classify as those, considering the many holes and breaks they finally reached a large property. A large half timbered house with a similar looking barn and a long building houses garages presented itself to him. She parked the Hyundai in one of the Garages, the smaller one to be exact, and stepped outside.

Charles followed her as she unlocked the front door, revealing a house with small-ish rooms with low height walls painted weight. The most color each room spotted was oak- all the furniture and floor were oak. He had never been in a house like this before.

“Stair up, the left room is the bathroom. Soap's there, go shower. I'll put clean clothes and towels in front of the door for you.”

“Shower?” 

“Sorry …Charlie. You stink. Long journey and all”

“Ah, I'm so sorry! I'll go shower immediately!”

Charles stepped into the bathroom, throwing his clothes on the ground. The second they left his body he noticed the less than stellar stench of sweat, alcohol and weed stuck on them. The water hitting his skin felt heavenly, scrubbing off layers of grime and dirt he never thought could amass so quickly. The water was different, as well. It didn't smell of chlorine as much, more like iron instead. Nonetheless, only after the shower did he realize what a stinky guy he had become. The clothes laid in front of the door were oversized on him. Some red, used polo shirt and cargo pants with frayed edges awaited him. Downstairs in the Kitchen, Y/N had changed into casual wear, foot already served on the table. Charles settled into the chair, staring at the provided meal. “What, you’re not hungry?” she asked him, tauntingly. “I don’t know how to eat this” he had to state.

“Look”, she said. The table was covered in two plates, each having a solid kind of bun laid on it and a pot with sausages swimming around. She took her knife, cutting a slit into the Bun. “Take the Brötchen-”, she then grabbed a fork and fished out a sausage, putting it into the ‘Brötchen’, “then put the sausage in there. "That's it.”

“Nothing else?” Charles asked, pretty confused.

“Yeah, simple meal you know. "Nothing fancy.”

“Hm.”

They ate silently, with Charles being confused at how hard that Brötchen was. He slept in the living room that night. The house didn’t have blinds but there were no street lights to keep him awake. Instead pure silence, something he never encountered anywhere. It was almost blissful - until the sun woke him up at 6AM and the birds were singing really loudly. He heard a loud mechanical noise and a cupboard clinking, then Y/N appeared in the doorway, offering a mug. “Coffee.”

The cup of coffee was hot, very nice.

“We’ll go to the electronics store to get you a phone, so that you can get your stuff in order. I can’t get you onto a plane without documents.”

“Aight.”

“Are we there soon?”

“Sorry mate, nothing’s close by.”

Driving to the electronic store took over half an hour and as they finally arrived, no grand palace was awaiting him. It was a dinky old little store, the bottom floor housing washing machines, fridges and vacuums. The upstairs was mostly TVs and DVDs, the phones tucked into the corner. Charles approached the few iPhones they had there, playing around with them.

“Dude, pick something cheaper”

"Why?" I’d just buy something that lasts.”

Y/N looked at him in annoyance. “I don’t know when you’ll be able to pay me back. That stupid phone is like a third of my monthly income. I can’t afford that.”

“A third?”, he asked in shock.

“Yeah, train attendants don’t earn much. Tickets want to be cheap right? Also…” she added. “We gotta get you a limited plan. Since you don’t have an ID, I have to be the owner. We should get a monthly one so that i can cancel it later.”

He simply agreed, settling on one heck of a cheap phone.

“Finally.” he sighed, installing his social media apps and creating a new WhatsApp profile. Contact to the outside world could be established.

“I need to call my team.”

“Please do, i bet they’re worried sick”

Charles leaned against the door as Y/N settled inside, as he heard the familiar call beep. Then, a voice he hadn’t heard in a while returned from the speaker.

“Who’s there?”, asked his friend, Andrea Ferrari.

“It’s me, Charles!”

"Charles?!" Where the fuck have you been ? We were so worried about you!”

“So fun story, i apparently took multiple trains and am now somewhere randomly in Germany. And I lost my wallet along with my phone.”

“Somewhere in Germany and no identification… Can you rent a car?”

“No, since I obviously have no ID, right?”

"Ah, shit. How’d you get a phone?”

“A train attendant took me in and bought it, but she can’t really afford more than that.”

Andrea seemed to think for a moment. “What if we send her money and she drives you back?”

“That sounds like a moronic, stupid journey…”

Shortly afterwards, Y/N made large eyes as insane amounts of cash appeared on her bank account. She didn’t believe that Charles actually was rich, especially not that he was an F1 Driver. For Ferrari as well! The Michael Schumacher Ferrari! She was quick to convince however, as a paid vacation like that sounded like a nice idea. They headed to the car dealership which also rented cars.

“Hyundai, again?” Charles complained.

Y/N just stared at him. “I know a guy there, the only spot where they won’t scam you.”

She had picked a car that looked quite similar to hers, just a bit longer with more horsepower. “I don’t like driving big cars. Want some power for the Autobahn though.” Charles whined in Response:” Can’t I drive? Pretty please? I haven't driven a car in a while~”

“Do you currently have a physical license?”

“No”

“Then shut up. I'd lose my license if we were to get caught. My car takes me to work, no options without”

He wanted to pout in response but that had quickly become not an option. The drive was sheer madness. Y/N was running on hopes and energy drinks, pushing the little car to its limit. Charles was gripping every piece of interieur he physically could as she drove at max speed for every stretch she could. Google had estimated the journey to take 13 hours, she shaved off 2 of them. He made a note of never saying that women were the calmer drivers. Blasting loud techno music that turned into a monotonous drone combined with the engine screaming as German countryside flew past him, only interrupted by gas station breaks.

Sweet, sweet silence they proved to be. A heaven of calm, shoved tightly between what most likely was an out-of-body experience.

Then, silence, white doves and heavenly goodness stopped: the return of techno. Y/N throwing the Car around Italy’s shit roads, ignoring all laws of traffic ever created. One goal in Mind: Maranello.

With the crack of dawn and the first worker’s arriving to open the doors, they saw something they had never seen in their long career. A crazed car coming to a full stop, brakes glowing hot directly in front of them. Passenger side flung open and their golden treasure stepping out. Il Predestino had returned, he had risen from the dead. 

And was vomiting against a tree.

“Aren’t you F1 Drivers supposed to be tough or something?”

Charles tiredly leaned against said tree, face free of blood. “We’re tough but not tough like that. I can survive a long ass GP but not 11 hours of insanity”

The crazed driver laughed, her whole body shaking. She approached him, forcefully shaking his hand. “It was nice to get to know you, big boy. I want to go to sleep now, hit me up if you want to visit Germany again.” Y/N shoved a slip of paper between his tightly pressed fingers and walked off as an employee showed her the way. She was to stay somewhere close by as some NDAstuff needed to be handled now.

On the other side, more people were approaching. Charles' friends, the team and the media. Maybe Germany was actually a nice spot to vacation in. Without all the circus going on here. When was the winter break again?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I pinky promise that i WILL continue this since i wrote it for my friend acexf1 over on YouTube. It's more set-up than anything rn. My other stuff is also getting continuations now!

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

I Love You, I've Sinned - Silvio

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

While I was busy doing official duties, a maid walking behind me suddenly called out.

Maid: "Um, there's a hickey on the back of your neck."

Emma: "What!?"

I hurriedly let my hair down to hide the hickey, but the embarrassment made my face flush.

(I told Silvio so many times!)

Just a few days ago, another maid pointed out a hickey to me, and I confronted Silvio about it.

------------Flashback-----------

Emma: "Prince Silvio, what’s the meaning of this?"

Silvio: "Huh? Why do you look so angry?"

Emma: "Who do you think is responsible for making me this angry!?"

Emma: "Didn't I mention last time not to leave hickeys where I can't hide them?"

Silvio: "Heh, you already noticed?"

Emma: "The maid told me. I was so embarrassed I felt like my face was on fire."

Emma: "Why do you always put them in such obvious places? You're so cruel."

(Just remembering it makes me want to faint.)

Even though I was seriously protesting, he laughed as if it were none of his business.

Silvio: "You're my woman. What's wrong with marking what's mine?"

Emma: "There's nothing wrong with it, but at least do it in places where I can hide it."

(I'm happy to hear him say that, but having other people point it out all the time is still embarrassing.)

Emma: "Anyway, seriously, please stop."

Silvio: ".........."

Emma: "W-What?"

Striding over to me, he grabbed my chin and tilted my head up.

He gazed at me with eyes that held a hint of amusement and smirked.

(I have a bad feeling about this.)

Silvio: "You don't like it when others point it out, right? In that case..."

With a confident gesture, he pointed to my neck.

Silvio: "Here."

Emma: "Here? Wait, what!?"

Without hesitation, he pressed his lips there and sucked hard.

Feeling a slight pain, I quickly pulled away and rushed to the mirror, where I saw a vivid red mark.

Emma: "Just because you gave me a warning doesn't make it okay!"

Silvio: "Like I care."

Emma: "You should care!"

As he tried to close the distance again, I turned to evade him, but he grabbed me from behind, nibbling on my nape this time.

Silvio: "How about here next?"

Emma: "Ah!"

Frustratingly, I couldn't deny that I was weak to his kisses, as my voice betrayed me.

Silvio: "You act so stubborn, but you sure make pleased sounds."

Emma: "You're the one who's being stubborn."

Silvio: "Huh? I can't hear you."

His teasing voice brushed against my ear, and he traced his tongue over the freshly made hickey.

Emma: "........."

Silvio: "If your embarrassment is stronger than the mark I've given you, maybe you don't fully realize that you're my woman."

Silvio: "In that case, I'll just have to keep marking you until you do. Next will be here."

Emma: "That's not the point, mmph!"

He firmly embraced my waist from behind, repeatedly sucking on my shoulders and neck while we stood.

The relentless rain of forceful kisses showed no sign of stopping, and he showed no remorse, let alone any hint of regret.

---------Flashback Ends--------

(Things are getting out of hand. I need to come up with a plan.)

(Now that this happens...)

Silvio: "Hey, Emma. Later..."

Emma: "........."

(Since he's not showing any remorse, I'll have to maintain a stern attitude and not let my anger show for a while.)

I remained resolute in my silence, but since he had repeated the same behavior yesterday and the day before, perhaps sensing my irritation, he furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed my arm as if to stop me.

Silvio: "Are you sulking?"

Emma: ".........."

Silvio: "Don't just stare at me."

(I bet he only thinks I'm just slightly upset.)

(I won't talk to him unless he gets the message.)

Emma: "Take this!"

Silvio: "Damn it, don't just suddenly hug me like that!"

Blushing and clearly flustered, he watched me flee hastily from the corner of his eye.

Silvio: "Don't make things any more difficult."

(Ugh, I didn't expect him to chase after me.)

Silvio: "Hey, if you have a complaint, say it to my face."

(I tried to tell him, but he didn't listen to me!)

In defiance, I turned my face away.

Emma: "If you're not going to listen to my requests, then I have the right not to listen to yours."

Silvio: "You finally decided to speak up, huh? And what's up with that attitude?"

Silvio: "You know what'll happen if you talk to me like that, right?"

(Until he understands my side, I won't yield to any kind of threat.)

Emma: "I don't know. I've said my piece, so if you'll excuse me."

Silvio: "Fine, suit yourself."

The next morning--

Emma: "What the hell is this!?"

I started getting ready but was shocked by my reflection in the mirror.

(There were hickeys on my neck, arms, collarbone, and in places I couldn't hide.)

Silvio: "I could hear you all the way from the hallway."

(When did he come into the room!?)

I was too shocked by the hickeys to notice.

Emma: "What’s the meaning of this?"

Silvio: "I did it while you were asleep."

Silvio: "They suit you better than any jewel."

Silvio: "You understand now, right? No matter how much you struggle, you're mine, so let me leave my mark as I please."

Emma: "Y-You tyrant!"

(I only wanted him to show some remorse, but my defiance seems to have fueled his fire even more.)

(I've completely lost this round. Ugh, this pisses me off!)

Emma: "I'm sorry. I apologize for ignoring you."

Silvio: "You're unusually obedient."

Emma: "I've realized that resisting is futile."

Silvio: "As long as you understand."

(Ugh!)

I suppressed the urge to charge at him.

Emma: "I appreciate you giving me hickeys, but I can't help feeling embarrassed when others point them out."

Emma: "And I also don't want to show the marks you leave on me to anyone else."

Silvio: "You felt that way?"

Silvio: "Then why didn't you say so from the beginning!?"

Emma: "Kyaah! Don't ruffle my hair like that!"

Silvio: "Shut up! It's your punishment for ignoring me."

(My cheeks must be as red as his by now.)

To dispel the awkward atmosphere, he cleared his throat softly.

Silvio: "Since you seem to understand what happens when you defy me, I'll forgive you this time."

Silvio: "But think about why I purposely leave marks in places you can't hide."

Silvio: "I don't like pests getting too close to my woman."

(I feel embarrassed, but his feelings make me happy.)

Suddenly, he pulled out a sea-colored scarf from his pocket and wrapped it around my neck, covering my hickeys.

Silvio: "You drive me crazy when you ignore me."

Silvio: "So from now on, I'll be a little more careful."

Emma: "Thank you."

(He always seems to understand my feelings.)

(Still, putting so many hickeys is going too far.)

As a small retaliation, I hugged him tightly and planted a kiss on his Adam's apple.

Silvio: "W-What the!? You!"

Ignoring his flustered reaction, I sucked on his skin and left a mark.

Silvio: "You always do this to me."

Emma: "I'd like to call it even, but there aren't enough yet, so brace yourself."

I made the declaration, and he burst into laughter.

Silvio: "You've got some nerve. I hope you don't regret it."

After leaving a kiss on the back of my hand and marking it, he lifted me in his arms and pushed me down onto the bed.

Silvio: "It's not me who needs to brace myself."

Silvio: "I'll leave plenty in places covered by clothes, too, so get ready."

Emma: "W-Wait! It's my turn to leave marks now!"

Evading my plea with a smirk, Silvio continued to leave marks all over my skin.

Repentance and retaliation both eventually turned into sweet moments as I bathed in the evidence of his love.

[hhughes]

♯ 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘◞ 𝑻𝒁¹¹

✰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⤫ trevor tries to convince you to skip your morning workout and stay in bed with him

✰ 𝐚/𝐧 ⤫ oh to have sleepy trevor trying to coax me back into bed. been in my trevor era lately.

you sigh watching the coffee slowly pour into your cup. you desperately needed the caffeine after getting up this early. it was 7am on a Saturday and you wanted nothing more than to get back in bed and sleep in 'til noon, but you couldn't. you and trevor were attending a friend's birthday lunch that would probably go until late afternoon, and if you didn't go to the gym now, you wouldn't have time to go at all.

usually you wouldn't be opposed to just skipping a gym session, especially if you had plans but you had already skipped 2 days this week and you didn't want to skip another. a creak in the door made you turn your head towards the left where a very sleepy trevor was shuffling his way over to you, yawning and hair sticking in every direction.

the sight made you giggle slightly and you turned your attention back to the coffee, noticing the cup was filled. you put the lid on your cup, just as your boyfriend's arms snake around your waist from behind, pulling you against him tightly and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up baby," you say, genuinely feeling bad, knowing the start of the season is always an adjustment and he needed his rest.

"come back to bed" he mumbles against your skin, his soft breaths and ends of his hair tickling you slightly.

"I can't. I have to go to the gym" you say, ignoring his hmm of protest, trying to grab your cup in front of you but trevor was faster and snatched the cup, holding it above his head before you could take it.

you turn around glancing up at the cup that you couldn't reach and gave your boyfriend a deadpan stare. "Really? You're so immature Trev." you say slightly annoyed and he grins. You are so hot when you are mad.

"Babe, you have the hottest body I've ever seen. You don't need to go to the gym." he says, voice slightly groggy since he hasn't been up that long. He was still holding the cup above his head even though you hadn't made an attempt to grab it.

"It's not about how I look. It's about being active. Sometimes I barely get my 10k steps in a day, not all of us play a sport for a living, remember?" you ask but he's not really paying attention, taking a sip of your coffee and immediately scrunching his nose up. He knows you don't take any sugar, but he still drinks it every time, thinking it's gonna taste differently.

"There's other ways you can be active. So many other ways. Come back to bed and I'll show you." he says putting the cup on the counter, hands falling to your hips and pulling you closer to him.

"You're insufferable." you protest, voice fading a little when he starts laying little kisses on your collarbone.

"Come on. I'll make it worth it. I promise you'll burn more calories with me than you will in the gym and you'll have so much more fun doing it." he whispers, his hands sliding down to grab your ass.

You bite your lip, thinking about it for a second before pulling his head down to meet yours in a kiss. He picks you up as you wrap your legs around his waist, carrying you back to bed. It's not like you weren't active at all, right?

[phangneh]

Voice in the Abyss

[ CHAPTER Ⅲ]

✨Manhwa : Into The Light Once Again

✨Elmir royal family x Fem!Reader

✨Warning : princess!reader, lost memory, yandere elements (both platonic and romantic), protect, ... (will add more)

📌Note: this is just a fanfic, there are many details unrelated to the original story line. English is not my native language, if I make grammatical mistakes or use incorrect words, please forgive me.

🎭Summary : You have a voice that is said to change the world, when you sing, your sweet voice makes people happy and all things flourish. One day, your kingdom was destroyed, you had to live with the pain of losing your family and being severely mistreated. But it seems that you will die in misery, there will be people who will come and take you out of the abyss.

[ Introduce ]

[ Chapter 3 ]

It is said that today is the day the Emperor and Crown Prince return from a relatively long trip, which is why everyone in the palace is busy. That's what you heard. Well, you also want to do something to help them, you don't want to be free while everyone else is so busy with work.

“Your health is still very poor, rest!”

That's what Aisha told you before disappearing. And so now you have to be alone in your room, on your bed. Aisha and the Empress will act extremely worried and try to dissuade you when you try to do something alone without asking for their help or that of a servant. Even though you were grateful, you couldn't help but feel like it was a bit suffocating; you didn't want to bother others over small things or something.

You want yourself to get well quickly, and after walking better, you can quickly go home. Staying in Elmir for too long will bother everyone a lot.

Moreover, being here makes you feel extremely strange. Even though you've been here for a while, everyone is kind and friendly, but you still can't get used to it. Do you think maybe it's because you don't speak the same language, so it's difficult to integrate with them, or not...?

You don't know, you're just not used to this place, this isn't your home, and it's so strange because it doesn't exist in your memories. Despite Princess Aisha's efforts to make you feel comfortable with your new home, you still don't feel any better. You wouldn't say that to her, you didn't want people to be disappointed after all their efforts. In fact, you are very grateful to them.

Gently place your feet on the floor, the coolness of the stone floor makes your toes numb. You tried to stand up with both legs with your strength. When you finally did, your legs shook a little. Maybe Aisha was right, you were still too weak to do anything. Slowly walking to the window, the sunlight falling on you makes you feel warm. Elmir's weather right now is very beautiful: a blue sky, mild sunshine, and sometimes wind.

“… How is the weather at home?” You mumbled as your eyes still stared at the high blue sky.

It's strange, suddenly one day you wake up in a strange place with an empty mind without any memories. You have lost your memory. Up until now, you don't have any information about your family or where you live; you don't even remember where you live anymore. Every time you ask Aisha and Empress Iris about it, they only give vague or evasive answers. You don't even know why you lost your memory and suffered serious injuries because no one is willing to explain it to you. You couldn't help but be puzzled and curious, but they all seemed to be good at hiding things; they immediately and easily distracted you with another topic.

“I want to go home…” You want to go home because you think that place might make you feel more at home than Elmir. Your hand rests on the glass, and your mind begins to imagine the scene when you get home. Suddenly you realize that it seems like yesterday you had a rather strange dream, you don't remember it clearly. Now that dream has become vague, like a passing fog, suddenly disappearing, suddenly appearing, blurred. Blurry and unclear. But maybe you won't care about it anymore.

Returning to the bed, you sat down, causing the soft mattress to sink slightly. You look back at your hands, with the scars that have gradually faded. Well, thanks to everyone's care, even though sometimes you don't know why they are so good to you, it makes you want to do something to thank them.

As you keep thinking about it, you start to feel sleepiness creeping in, and you fall asleep again.

Aisha was looking forward to it; she knew. Of course, that's not strange, she couldn't help but feel happy and excited at the thought of her beloved father and brother about to return.

Standing in front of the palace's grand gate and hearing the sound of horse hooves approaching, she felt her heart beat a little faster. Empress Iris, standing next to her, couldn't help but smile when she saw her daughter's appearance. She herself was feeling lightheaded and happy.

When the group of knights led by the revered Emperor of the Empire officially entered the gate, servants stood on both sides, bowing their heads and bowing respectfully.

“Greetings, Emperor and Crown Prince!”

Aisha's smile immediately brightened when she saw the people she was looking forward to. She immediately waved to them, her cheeks turning pink. When the horse stopped, Crown Prince Isis could not stop himself but quickly got off the horse and ran like he was flying to Aisha, his beloved sister, to hug her.

"Brother!"

“Aisha! I'm back!” Isis hugged his sister tightly as if to make up for the time they had been apart, while also expressing the love and nostalgia he had for her. Isis loves her sister more than anyone; of course everyone knows that. "I missed you so much."

“I miss you too." The princess giggled while in her brother's arms.

“Ahem… Aisha, what about this father?”

The Emperor's voice made Aisha recognize him. She smiled shyly and then went to give him a hug.

“Welcome home, dad.”

Tyrion also happily hugged his daughter back. No less than Isis, the emperor himself missed his daughter and wife very much. His family is everything to him, and he will do anything if it means protecting his family's happiness and safety, even if it means sacrificing himself on the battlefield.

“Everyone must be very tired from such a long journey, let's go rest quickly.”

The palace servants began to get busy again, arranging and packing their luggage, some followed the royal family to help them.

On the way, Aisha and Isis couldn't stop themselves from talking to each other. They had a lot to say to each other after a period of separation, even though they exchanged letters during that time, but that was absolutely not enough! But the moments of being together and talking to each other are much more valuable. Their parents could only smile when they saw their children so excited, after all, they themselves knew that Isis and Aisha were deeply attached to each other.

When they had to temporarily separate, the two of them stopped. The Crown Prince couldn't help but smile regretfully, but his sister wanted him to rest, and in fact, he himself was very tired.

“See you later, Aisha. I really have a lot to tell you.”

“Yes, brother, please rest. I also look forward to talking to you.”

“See you at dinner.”

“Goodbye, brother Isis.”

Aisha waved goodbye to Isis, who turned toward the prince's palace with his servants following. She looked forward to the time they would spend together soon. Besides, the princess also felt extremely relieved; it was fortunate that everyone returned safely after the war. This battle happened suddenly, and the departure of the only heir to the throne, Isis, following Emperor Tyrion, also caused a lot of worry. Most people tried to prevent him from going to the battlefield because if something happened to the Empire's Crown Prince, the entire Empire would fall into chaos. Even so, he was still determined to step out onto the front-line.

She always knew that her brother was talented, very strong and intelligent, but on the battlefield, anything could happen suddenly and no one could predict. She sent letters to her father and brother regularly to make sure they were okay. An entire empire is represented by the Royal Family, after all.

Looking at her brother, who had disappeared, Aisha fell into contemplation as she turned away. Even though her father and brother have returned, it's unlikely their lives will return to their original trajectory any time soon. War and peace both stand between extremely fragile lines. One threat has been eliminated, but there are still countless other threats lurking. Especially a real enemy who is always lurking and stalking them.

And you, the one who will most likely have a big impact on their lives in the future.

Continue to [ Chapter 4 ]

p/s: I'm about to enter a very important exam so I can't release a new chapter soon, I'm really sorry 〒▽〒 I'll be back in three weeks!

[missgryffin]

mystery wip snippet

because I can't help myself 😅 and just want to scream about this fic!

She rolls her eyes, quill poised in the midst of whatever list she’s writing. “Ah, yes, because I look like a lion and eat men who say the wrong thing.” 

“I mean, in fairness, I think it’s more to do with the fact that you can solve cases no one else can—” 

“I always have enjoyed puzzles,” she mutters, still focused on her notes. 

“—but having been on the receiving end of your wand many times during our teen years—” 

“Oh, for Godric’s sake—” 

“—I understand their fear of being eaten, is all I’m saying.” 

She spares him a glare through her eyelashes, and James points at her with his fork. “See? That right there. That’s a predator’s look.” 

Her voice drips with sarcasm as she retorts, “Well, you’re obviously not afraid of saying the wrong thing.” 

“No,” he agrees, picking up another bite of mash on his fork. “I’m a predator, too, Evans.” 

“Oh?” There’s a hint of a smirk at her mouth. “I wasn’t aware you’d changed species, Potter, pray tell.”

James gives her a playfully dark look of his own. “Har har.” 

“And here I’ve thought you were a Fwooper this whole time,” she chides. “Hair sticking up. Causing insanity.”  

His hand jumps up to run through his hair before he can help it, a subconscious impulse that makes her smirk even as he rolls his eyes.

“I mean, you certainly drove me insane,” she mutters under her breath. 

“To be fair, I've driven a lot of women insane.” 

Now he gets a death glare. “Not that kind of insane.” 

“If you say so.” She falls silent after that, and for some reason he can’t bear the awkwardness of it, so he prattles, “But I’d say I’m more of a panther now.” 

“Let me guess, because you have black hair and green eyes.” 

“I mean, I was going for the powerful, fearless, deadly angle, but that works, too. Though my eyes are more hazel, actually, you’re the one with true green. But I didn’t think you’d ever noticed my eye color, let alone remembered it.” 

Lily glances back up at him, eyebrows high. “Remember the part where I not-so-subtly told you that your chattering drives me the bad kind of insane by comparing you to a magical bird that is literally required to have a silencing charm reinforced monthly by law because its singing causes insanity?” 

Feigning concern, he quips, “Oh, was that a riddle I didn’t get?”

She pinches the bridge of her nose with a sigh. 

[themissingnumbers]

Well, yeah, I know about Bad Eggs, Professor… I’ve seen them before.

I just- I-I’m so sorry if this is insensitive or rude, Professor, but… why do you keep it here? It, uh… it seems important to you…

[This post contains a rapidly flashing/glitching image.]

"... The circumstances in which I aquired the egg are not something that I want to talk about, but as an academic, transparency is important to me, so... I'm willing to explain."

"You are right. It is important to me. This BAD EGG... This was the very first anomaly that fell into my possession- honestly, perhaps the first I ever encountered."

"... It was not originally my Pokemon. It was the sole partner of a dear friend of mine. An Absol. It always kept her safe- she was far more adventurous than me, hah..."

"The phenomenon of what this is, and why it occurs, isn't something well understood by the scientific community. It certainly wasn't when I first... acquired this."

"I desperately wanted to learn why it had happened. How I could undo it. I- I needed to. But there was no information, other than the few recounts of other trainers out there who had fallen victim to this exact same phenomenon. None of us knew what was happening, nobody knew what to do- the only advice was to quarentine it, as many found keeping it near other Pokemon caused it to spread."

"... I was a budding academic, at the time. I'd always had interest in the field of Pokemon research and was beginning a path to become a Professor, at the time. I- I can't even remember what I'd originally planned to study, but..."

"As I searched desperately for information on this that just didn't exist, I stumbled on recounts of more and more similarly inexplicable oddities. They piled up, with not a single one understood, answered, or fixed."

"They consumed my attention, and... Finally, I made a decision."

"Nobody else had given these anomalies the light of day. All of them, simply passed off as urban legends, or the ramblings of madmen gone off the deep end. So I decided- I wanted to be the one to understand. I wanted to approach this properly, academically, so I could be the one to give hundreds- perhaps thousands- of unheard cries for help the answers that they needed."

"... Including my own."

"Years later, well... Here we are. I've a lab, and hundreds- thousands, perhaps- of notes, essays, papers full of analysis and theory, and an entire lab's worth of hard proof on the existence of these in my possession."

"... I understand the BAD EGG much better, now. But despite everything, the way to undo it still evades me. At the very least... I've procured a lot more knowledge in the meantime. I hope that's worth something, at least."

BEGINNING | EXPLORATION || PREV | NEXT

[perplexingluciddreams]

I am so so so frustrated about my shitty visual processing. Especially how I can't scan my AAC screen.

I try and try and try to search my AAC screen for the button. But even when I know it is definitely on that page, I struggle hard to find it.

The only time I can immediately find the right button is through memorise the exact "motor plan" of where on the grid to tap in what order. Which doesn't involve looking at the actual buttons at all.

I use Super Core 50 (on Grid 3) right now. Which is grid size 6x9. That is already considered smallish grid size with not many buttons.

I am considering trying Super Core 30. Which is similar with all same vocabulary but just less buttons on a screen. It is 4x7 grid size.

But then with any smaller grid size, get frustrated about struggle with navigation and can't remember which folder a word is in. And have to search for it. And takes more clicks to get to a word, so more mental and physical work to get words out.

Also don't want to give up on Super Core 50. Because I already customised a lot, put own words and rearrange and completely change colours (for better visual process and less sensory overload and headaches).

My grid set feels like mine now. Just upset that it is so hard still to use it at all. It makes me less likely to try communicate more complex things.

I don't know what to do 🤷🏻‍♂️☹️

[silenzahra]

The content that I'm bringing next ✨

I thought I could give you a hint of the content I'm preparing in order to bring it during this week and next month! I'm taking my time to create it all, so that's why it's not gonna be posted right away, but I hope you'll like to read everything as I share it! 💖

I'll start with some regular posts and then I'll focus on my writing 🥰

-Get to know me. I mentioned a while back that I thought it'd be fine to share a little bit of myself with you so you can get to know me a bit better, and I'm currently working on this one and trying to think of as many things as possible so as to make it, you know... interesting? 😅 I don't really know how to describe it, but in any case, it's in the works!

-A masterpost. Just like the first one, I also mentioned that I'd like to create one at last, as I've posted a few stories and two headcanon posts already, and I want you guys to find them as easily as possible whenever you'd like to. This is gonna take a bit longer, because Tumblr's search tool doesn't work very well 😬 But I'll manage! 💪

-My pending asks. This is a bit embarrassing... I've had some asks waiting for a reply for months now and I'm so sorry that I've kept you waiting for so long 😅 Here's a promise: as soon as I've posted at least one of my pending fics (more about this below), I'll start gradually and slowly answering all the asks that I have left. I wanna give each and every one of you the proper replies you deserve, which is why I warned that I'd take some time, but that's one thing. Taking forever is very different and I'm truly so sorry 😅

-May and June calendars. Don't know if you've seen some of my calendar posts, but I happen to have two Nintendo calendars for this year and I've been showing them since January (here's the February one since I can't find the others lol), but sometimes I simply forget to share the one for the new month and it gets delayed... Shame on me again 😅 I intend to show May this week since it's technically still May, and I'll make sure to not let many days of June pass before I show the ones corresponding to that month 🥰

-Tons of reblogs! I've already started doing this actually, as I've been tagged in a lot of amazing content, and even if I'm slow, I wanna see everything and leave proper feedback when I have the chance 🥰 Thank you again to those of you who tagged me! And for your patience as well 🫂💖💖

And now... let's talk about...

✨📝 MY WRITING 📝✨

-My Kitsune/Tanooki story. This one is coming soon, and when I say soon, I mean this week! 😁 I would've liked to post it mid May, but life wouldn't let me, but hey, better late than never! 🥰 I'm now in the process of editing and I intend to start translating tomorrow, and that usually doesn't take long, so you can expect this one at the end of the week 👀 Hope you'll like it! 💖

-Anything for him: Chapter 3. As I've mentioned a few times, this last chapter is long overdue and I'm ashamed that I'm taking SO long to finish it as I know very well what's going to happen! 😅 Still, once my Kitsune/Tanooki fic is up, this is the next thing I intend to fully work on, and even though I'm not sure to give a specific date, I would like to post it in June at last. Wish me luck in achieving this! 🤞🤞🤞

-Post-nightmare cuddles fic. Okay, it's been a few months already, but... anyone remember this writing prompt? I happened to receive a couple of suggestions in my inbox, and even though I wrote and posted the first one back in March, I wasn't able to finish the second one as I wasn't in the mood for angst when I first tried. But that's changed! 🤩 I'm CRAVING to write some angst, so this is gonna be the third thing on my writing list, and, again, I'd like to post it in June. I'll let you know if I succeed! 🤞🤞🤞

Also, if you're curious, you can read the other prompt here 👇

-And last but not least... did anyone say...

... an AU? 🤔

Yyyyyyes! That's right! 😁 I've recently started working on my very first AU and I am SO happy 🤩 I'm really SO excited about this one! I don't know yet how long it'll take until I'm ready to start posting it, but this is the thing that I mentioned yesterday that I keep getting new ideas for almost every single day 🤩

I'm not gonna say yet what it's based on, as I want it to be a surprise when I finally start sharing it with you guys, but it contains EVERYTHING that I love and that many of you love as well, so... I believe you'll like this one when it's ready 🤭 Maybe when I work a bit more on it and see a release date coming closer I'll go and tell you what it's about, but for now... I'll just keep working on it and enjoying every single word that I'm writing 😁

I really hope you'll like all of this once I start sharing it! As you see, I'm a big fan of making lists 😂 That's the way I usually organize everything that I have to do every day and such, and I thought that maybe sharing this, I'll have it a bit easier to focus and really bring all of it to this blog, even if I'm slow. Still, just know that I'm truly enjoying the process of creating not only the written fics (and the AU 🤭), but also the posts that I wanna bring soon 🥰

If you read everything, thank you! I know I tend to talk a lot lol, so I really appreciate it! Love you so much! 💖💖💖

[lostinvasileios]

im sorry if i sound insecure or something but have you ever been in a place where you couldnt explain your relationship or practice to people that much because you dont have the words for it? like i want to tell someone about how much i love my deities but i cant really describe anything about why i do or something without feeling sort of stupid because i cant phrase it right, does that make sense? im sorry if thats hard to understand

Greetings, love bee!! ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. Thank you for sending in your ask. 💛🌷

So, yes, actually. I have. I actually still feel that way. In my own journey, that's been a feeling I've had pretty much the entire time. My emotions always felt so much more profound than my vocabulary could keep up with. No matter how many big and beautiful words I found, they never truly could capture the essence of it and I hated that for so long when I was beginning. Having urges to share the beauty you've gone through or whatever is normal during practicing.

But… That's not a bad thing, bee. As I've come to learn, that - only makes it more special. I get it can be annoying, but you don't owe anybody an explanation to anything about your path or things relating to it.

A thing I had to learn pretty quickly (like 6-7 months into my practice) was that... Your path isn't really... Meant to be understood by anybody else other than you. I mean, this is what mine is like at least. I can't truly immerse anyone into what my life is like or has been like with my deities, because they won't be able to remember it the way I can. They can't feel the exact, or most likely even similar, emotions I did - in the way I did - because... It didn't happen for them. My deities said that to me, they showed that to me, they did this and that for/to me. Just as, their deities did that for them and they got to experience things I did not and probably won't.

Now, there are of course times where I or you will find others who can relate on certain levels, swap stories and see the similarities, and so forth. However, you two can give each other as many details as you can muster and as basically humanly possible, but - at the end of the day... That experience is yours alone. Their experience, is theirs alone.

And that's - beautiful to me, honestly.

It really helps me realize just how - unique... How truly special this all is. There are details about my practice that nobody besides me and my deities will ever understand, and though I sometimes wish to share them with others - some things are simply meant to stay with the experiencer & those involved within the experience. Some things are just either not going to be well received, well understood, well liked, ect. Some things are just - safer with you and your deities. Which is why the saying "keep the personal details to yourself" exists within witchy communities.

Another thing is that languages as a whole can be very limiting even with all the beautiful words that you can find. Grammar rules too. Me and my deities often break things like language or grammar to better communicate, because - we understand each other. The meaning behind our made up words or complex grammar style, almost like our own language. You can try to mix up your own way of telling someone about your deities and the bond you have, the knowledge you've gained and the experiences or theories you have gotten over the time you've practiced, but, it might be confusing. And more than often, if someone is confused, they can get angry. They can begin to invalidate you. Ect.

But, at the same time, you're also entitled to speak about it even if little to nobody understands it. You're allowed to be confusing and make language whatever you need it to be to get your point across and satisfy those desires to share. If you want to, nobody's really stopping you. And, you might just meet someone who can understand certain extents, or be similar to you. That in itself is kind of why we even have religion or the knowledge of deities in the first place. Because someone went out and preached it, someone brave went and documented it for others to learn.

I think I yapped a bit here, sorry about that, bee, lol. Hopefully I made some form of sense here. Enjoy your path and may no evil follow you, loveling! 🤍🤍

[shakemelikeasnowglobe]

I came to the conclusion that formula one is mostly about star crossed lovers who are also scar crossed lovers seeking mutual destruction because they would only allow themselves a gentle touch of another man if it's in the safety of a shared podium.

[jestergirlbosom]

Still love those modern Seinfeld plots people write whether it's just absurdist nonsense or queer or both. Love the way people just capture the characters so well they can put them in fucking any situation they want. Kramer discovers a derelict Gundam in a warehouse and fixes it up only to accidentally crash it into a festival? Sure why not. George has decided to stop dating she/they's, but will date they/she's. Yea that tracks