#no matter how much you try to fit in you will never be accepted like your normal peers

[birt-art]

There's some great Elden Ring lore videos but where's my two hour long queer reading of Elden Ring you cowards !!

[galedekarios]

one thing that really tugs at my heartstrings while going through the epilogue files a bit more is how desperately gale wants to stay in touch with the protag (unromanced) and the friends he's made on their journey together.

not only has he talked to his students about the protag and their adventures at length, he invites the protag to be a guest lecturer:

Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you.

he is also happy to invite the protag to his tower for the duration of their stay:

Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower. Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.

and even if they should refuse his invitation to be a guest lecturer, he hopes they'll at least consider coming to visit him in his tower in waterdeep:

Player: I'll respectfully decline. Sounds too much like hard work to me. Gale: I totally understand. Perhaps our exploits might be a little on the mature side for my students, come to think of it... Gale: Still, at the very least you must come visit me. I've a pantry full of Waterdhavian delicacies and a delightful bottle of Elverquisst with your name on them... devnote: Attempting to persuade the player to visit him, really wants them to come [if the player is illithid] Player: My diet is more... cerebral these days, Gale. You'll need to rethink your menu. Gale: Say no more. There's a wizard in Blackstaff's anatomical department who owes me a favour, no questions asked. All diets will be catered for. I can hardly wait. [if the player rejected to become an illithid] Player: Good food and good company? Now that I can manage. Gale: Excellent, excellent, excellent. I can hardly wait. devnote: Relieved you've accepted his offer

[end of convo for both] Gale: It will give us plenty of time to catch up on your adventures. Gale: I'm very curious to know what you've been up to these past months, but I suspect the telling of that tale would keep you tied to me all evening. Gale: So, in the spirit of selflessness I encourage you to mix and mingle for now. We've time enough to come. devnote: Looking forward to staying in touch with the player

he's crushed if the protag refuses:

Player: Sorry, Gale. I don't think that's going to happen. Gale: Oh. Well, no matter. Dinner alone can be every bit as enjoyable as with company. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it Tara the Tressym: Alone? And what am I - a stuffed toy? Gale: Please - enjoy the rest of your evening. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it

this all ties into another little moment after this first conversation.

if the protag has talked with gale already and has hugged him, there's a second, shorter conversation, in which gale gets choked up as he reminisces over how the party is together once more:

Gale: I can't believe this is real. I never thought we'd gather like this again. devnote: Taking in the moment, appreciating it Gale: It's quite... ahem, yes really quite lovely. devnote: Getting a bit choked up, trying to hide it/breeze past it

tl;dr: gale loves his friends so very, very much and hopes they'll allow him to be able to stay in contact with them.

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

Filming people without their consent is a massive issue of not only privacy but ableism that's been going on for many years.

It started out with filming more visibly disabled people, like high support needs autistic people having meltdowns in public and (especially fat) disabled people literally just using mobility aids, but once that was deemed less acceptable it moved to other things. Filming people acting "weird" in public. Eating weird foods. Falling asleep in weird places. Wearing weird things. Stimming. You get the idea. It's no longer safe to be visibly weird in public and that's an issue for a lot of disabled people. I recently had to lay down on the floor of a department store because I had an ME crash while out shopping. Not only did I have to worry about the normal things like people coming up to ask me if I'm ok, I also had to worry about some video of me at my lowest point, when I'm suffering immensely, being shared around as "haha look at this weird bitch on the floor". It's upsetting. It's scary.

And then there's fakeclaiming. A fun trend where people will film us in public to "prove" there's some kind of huge epidemic of people faking disability. Spoiler alert: there is not. Most of the time the people they film are real disabled people who don't fit into the expected mold for disability, usually service dog teams or people who use mobility aids who don't "look sick". And you would think this trend would be some kind of abled nonsense, but it's not. It's often other disabled people doing the fakeclaiming. Yes, there are some times when it's obvious a service dog isn't trained properly, but other than that, it's damn near impossible to tell if someone is faking a disability, and you're much more likely to target a disabled person than a faker. I'd love to say this trend was new, but it's been going on since the days of "the people of walmart" where many of the people posted were fat mobility aid users, always with the assumption that they used it because they were too fat or lazy to move on their own. In fact, the image of a fat person in a mobility cart has become almost synonymous with "lazy". It's one of the things that drove me to get my own expensive power wheelchair, to avoid the judgmental stares in the grocery store when I was just trying to exist, to avoid the fear of public shame. Even now when I stand up from my chair to walk to the bathroom stall or reach something on a high shelf, I watch the corners of my vision for that telltale phone in the air. I feel like I'm never safe from the judgemental eye of the internet, even when I'm logged off, and I'm sure I'm not the only person who feels that way.

Tik Tok, YouTube, Instagram, these places are all great for disabled people, especially those of us without access to the outside world. But it's also become a source of great anxiety for anyone who's uncontrollably "weird", mostly disabled people. Leave us alone, I'm begging you, we just want to go to the fucking grocery store in peace and safety.

Tl;dr

Stop filming people for "acting weird" or "faking a disability" in public. It's ableist, it's invasive, it's creepy, and it's humiliating. People don't exist in public for your amusement and especially not disabled people. You don't know who is disabled and who isn't no matter how many disabled people you've known or how sure you are that the person is faking.

[nymphany]

COD X PUPPY HYBRID! READER

Masterlist

MINORS DNI

WARNING:CONTAINS SEMI DARK THEMES DO NOT READ IF YOURE NOT INTRESTED

Fic contains: taboo / dark content please read this warning if you are triggered by any of this material

Reader info:

Referred with: she/her/girl/you

British! Pan! Short! Afab! Feminine! Reader

Coming soon: cat, bunny, mouse, deer, bear, cow, lamb and bird version

♡ callsign: cadaver!

♡ oh where to start with this little ball of energy!!!

♡ shes so dumb </3 but she's good at her job so that's all that matters

♡ it was a surprise to 141 to be presented with the least intimidating hybrid as their newest addition to the team

♡ this bubbly little thing who was practically shaking in excitement, her tail wagging so hard it looked like it was about to fly off

♡ naturally the men were disappointed that they're newest member wasnt some unbeatable tank but instead a tiny thing who was fueled by praise and treats

♡ speaking of praises and treats gaz cant help but spoil you!! Price tells him not to

"she wont listen if you give her so many treats"

"shes a good girl she always listens"

• hes right you do always listen, you're very obedient maybe too obedient

♡ despite his denial of your treats, your favourite man is obviously price <3 something about puppies and grumpy old men is a match made in heaven !!

♡ you like his ear scratches the best especially when you're in his office with your head on his lap

♡ he says he only likes you for your work but everyone knows that's a lie especially when he pays extra attention to you during lunch. Hes just making sure you eat all your food so you're big and strong

♡ you know how some dads pet their dogs my giving their back a good smack and rub? that's what hed do to you <3

♡ he has a wide selection of beef jerky in his office but you only eat it when someone feeds it to you <3 they're not allowed to hand it to you or place it infront of you they must feed it to you directly!! Makes you happy (you try your best not to nip at their fingers when they feed you but you just get so happy you cant help it)

♡ ghost can never be sarcastic around you your dumb brain cant handle it :( "go count every grain of rice in the kitchens if you're so bothered 'bout the numbers" and you do!!! he feels horrible because he knows you suck at counting :(( it must of took you ages to even get to 50

♡ its okay because it gives soap and gaz an excuse to pamper you!! You dont exactly understand why you're being pampered (must be because you're such a good girl for counting all that rice) but you accept it. It does make ghost feel so much worse for making you do things he didnt mean </3

"You're such a good puppy! You're so good at listening and you're so pretty!"

"Gaz that's enough I already said sorry"

"Aw come on Lt you made the poor thing count every grain of rice cant expect us to not rub it in can ya"

♡ ghost does make it up to you eventually, he takes you on walks around the base and points out secrets and tells you their stories

"Oi pup Do you see that dent in the wall?"

"Yes!"

"Johnny came back after a night out and rammed himself into it thinking his shadow was an intruder"

♡ they always have atleast one of your chew toys on them at all times after they noticed you chewing the inside of your mouth, your fingers, their sleeves or just anything you could fit in your mouth

♡ SCENTING!!!!

♡ your team must smell like you all the time, always, forever !!!! Whenever you get them alone youre immediately licking them!! Sometimes you bite but you're working on it <3

♡ if they come back from somewhere you have to smell them, what if they smell like another hybrid hmm?!?! >:((

♡ which is why you hate baths.

♡ they wipe away all your hard work I mean come on it's not easy to get the scent of your four favourite men nor is it easy to scent them!!! They're constantly around other people >:(((((

♡ luckily you arent the smartest so it's easy to trap and lure you in with kisses <3

♡ some one HAS to be in the bath/shower/ room with you

1. you cant be trusted not to eat the soap (smell nice ≠ taste nice)

2. Its scary in there

3. You get distracted and forget to even get in the bath/shower

♡ they treat you so well though !!! your ears and tail are always so soft when you let gaz wash them, he takes such good care of the soft fur and he never ever let's the bubbles  stay in your ears and he spends a good long time near your tail but you have no idea why <3

♡ soap likes washing your body! He loves watching you relax as he takes his time to make sure you're clean, he loves letting you lean against him as he washes your back and loves watching the suds run down your body. hes so sweet that he makes sure to pay extra attention to your sensitive areas <3

♡ price is the one tasked to dry you off, you seem to only listen to him anyway (of course you do, your dumb doggy brain has to listen to the leader of your pack)

♡ he pulls you against him using your towel as leverage, he so graciously put it in the dryer to warm up so you're all toasty and warm. You sit in his lap while he rubs your body dry whispering praises about your "bravery" to even go into the bath/shower

♡ Which leaves ghost in charge of your skin care!! This big scary man lathering your body in lotions and creams so you're all soft and smooth. He loves the moans and whimpers when he presses down on your weak spots <3

"Oi mutt stop licking the moisturiser"

"No no nooo :((( Say the thing :((("

"....Simons says stop licking the moisturiser"

♡ you never wear clothes after your bath/shower, they're lucky to get underwear on you, you need to be as open to they're scents as possible!! Maybe you'll wear their clothes but only maybe

♡ our puppy wasn't meant to meet Alejandro and Rudy until the mission was over but she said her nose could be put to good use and laswell couldnt help but agree (puppy definitely didn't bribe her or anything puppy hugs do wonders)

♡ at first alejandro didnt even see the girl behind the mountain sized men, assuming it's only ghost and soap coming along

"This is cadaver, our k9 unit she'll be coming along with us"

"Hello!"

"Ah un perro! you'll be very useful"

♡ it was a tight squeeze in the backseat, two military men left little room but it's okay you enjoy sitting on their laps so it's not much different

"So they call you cadaver?"

"Yes sir!"

"You good at hunting corpses?"

"Uh huh! very good! The best!"

"Good because we're looking for a dead man walking"

":00?? A zombie :((("

♡ overall you got on very well with alejandro and Rudy <3 whenever they passed you they always gave a light scratch to your ear

♡ you dont understand the language but you like the attention and that's all that matters, they're so nice and help you cool off in the sun,  you just need to get naked so they can help cool you off just let them help dont even worry about it

♡ you liked graves when you met him he got so hyped up on missions the energy traveled to you

♡ although he definitely tries to make you loyal to him and him only (mmm yummy dark! Graves <3<3) hes always been a fan of hybrids especially the vulnerable ones. Hes best at love bombing you, filling you with treats, pets and roaming hands. Hes a sucker for puppy girls

♡ valeria made you cry when you met her :(( well it was actually rudy but he didnt mean to he felt awful :(((

"Perro estúpido, solo eres una perra reproductora, ¿no? no hay pensamientos en esa linda cabeza tuya"

"Thank you :D"

"Dont thank her shes insulting you"

":(((("

• he gave you so many hugs, treats and kisses after he apologized profusely he forgot how sensitive you are he just didnt want you to thank her for insulting you :((

♡ mommy valeria tho so shes easily forgiven with a few fake compliments.

"You must think twice as hard with that brain of yours"

"Oh no! I dont even think once! :D"

♡ you entertain her, although she does wonder how it would feel to live in your head for a day

"Even the dogs in Las almas know not to bark at me"

"Oh no silly! We're in a shipping container"

"Yes in Las almas"

"Since when"

♡ thinking about how puppy got to keep valeria company while the big strong men go fight, guard dog duties !! Dont ask her how she got naked... and why valerias fingers are pruned... that's not important and you should mind your business

♡ cadaver has a muzzle and harness <3 !!! If you've ever been checked for harness safety you'll understand the feeling of being tugged around and how easy it is to want to jump someones bones

♡ ZOOMIES!!!

♡ always at odd hours too but you cant help it !! you have a lot of energy and you're too dumb to put that energy to good use :(( so it's only natural you jump on everyone and everything <3

♡ nesting with all of their clothes and belongings and they cant stop you or they'll get viciously attacked (you will cry)

♡ sticker collection (scented ones are the best) + mask decorating with ghost !!!!!

♡ konig is a scary big giant man whose just a silly guy at heart but jesus christ he needs to shrink

♡ the first time you met him you actually didnt see him, assuming the sun had exploded and the solid black mass that obscured your vision was the end of the world only to be corrected by an apology from the wall itself

"ah I'm so sorry I didnt see you there"

"Me neither :D"

♡ so big and scary but so warm and protective!! Ghost doesn't like you near konig he doesnt like sharing his toys with kortac

♡ you still hang out with him whenever you get the chance!! <3 friendship bracelets for all!! You did however underestimate how big these mens wrists were and cried when they wouldnt fit

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ NSFW ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

♡ oral fixation all the way !!

♡ mouth cockwarming!!!! Below prices desk? Yes!! Feeling sleepy and need to suck on something?? Soap is your guy!! Want to learn about the human anatomy? Rudy is there to help

♡ sweaty balls in my mouf

♡ slobbering on them until they scrunch up like raisins, suck the man juice out of them

♡ our puppy has a leash and collar so it's only natural they use it on you, held back by the neck as one of them is pounding into you

♡ puppy likes scent and prefers sex before

and after a work out

♡ listen... piss kink

♡ I just feel like they'd be in a meeting and she tries so so sooo hard to tell someone she needs to pee but they keep telling her to hold it (graves) but she just cant price made sure to keep her hydrated during lunch :(( it's too much and her bladder isnt big enough

♡ whimpers fill the air the sound of dripping water accompanying it their heads turning to face her as sobs bubble out of her mouth along with apologise while she so desperately cover her face to avoid the embarrassment. Her thighs clenched desperately to stop the stream but her attempts were In vain

♡ the first to realise what had happened was soap the fact that he was sitting next to her and had perfect view access to her entire body

"Aw pet don' cry its jus' an accident, happens to the best of us"

♡ :(((( shes so upset but our boys dont mind shes usually so well behaved and she obviously didn't mean to do it on purpose

"Oh puppy you tried so hard to tell us and we completely ignored you didnt we?"

"Uh huh"

"Yeah? And we didnt listen when you said you couldnt hold it did we"

"No i- but I- I did try to hold I really tried hard b-but I couldnt an- and now I've made a mess"

♡ they cant ignore the arousal they get from seeing her soaked and sobbing <3 they know it's wrong, shes upset and embarrassed but they just cant help it

♡ graves is a gross man who looks like fix it felix but dont let that fool you he 100% loves the control he gets from a piss kink especially for our puppy, he likes making you hold it and then mocks you in a high pitched voice but your dumb little brain thinks hes comforting you

♡ I think simon is more one for fucking you until you pee, he usually does it in the shower so he can wash off but he doesnt mind getting dirty, he likes the feeling of your cunt squeezing and gushing around him especially if you try to tell him to stop. Youre gonna pee? Yeah? Do it

♡ gaz is someone who likes to watch you pee he loves the view <3 the fluttering of your cunt draws him in road trip side of road

♡ Johnny, similar to his L.T, is someone who teases you until you pee. Rubbing your clit until its puffy and sore and you cant hold yourself up right let alone your bladder

♡ alejandro and Rudy like watching you wiggle they'll purposefully fill you with liquid and press on your tummy just to watch you squirm, they have bets on who can make you loose it first

♡ price pees in you

♡

♡

♡ theres a reason hes your favourite

♡ you know how I talked about scenting??... I hate to break it to you but she has definitely peed on them/their stuff at some point

♡ you mostly pee on price

♡ "what are you doing"

"Nothin"

"Where are you pants"

"I dont know"

"You're not gonna pee on the floor are you"

"No"

"That's right you're not because that would be bad"

"bad"

"Thats right bad"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...."

"Just a little"

"No-"

♡ heats are always a pain for you :(( so horny and so wet desperate for someone to fill you with the pups you need. You drive the team crazy with your whimpers and cries but they know you cant help it, you're just achey :(((

♡ bullet vibrators are your best bet as they obviously cant fuck you 24/7 so that small buzzing of pleasure keeps you satiated until they can get their hands on you, the first time you had your heat you couldnt get the small thing out :(( your fingers were too small and it was so slippery you couldnt grasp it :((( you're so lucky your captain is kind enough to help you <3 dont think about his fingers wiggling inside you hes just trying extra hard to get it out that's why hes pumping them in and out of you

♡ sometimes they have to keep you in a cage because you wont stop begging to be stuffed, they dont want a rookie to think that they're allowed to overstep their place just because your in heat

♡ you hump everything!!!! Nothing is safe they take their shirt off for one second and it's on a pillow being jumped by no other than you!! You absolute fiend!!!

♡ you follow them around everywhere you love being around you favourite men!!!

♡ when 141 go on a mission you're left with Rudy and alejandro who always give in to you whines and begs <3 they treat you so well always stuffing you full when you need it, letting you have as much cum as you please, it makes the 141 so jealous that they have to fuck you as soon as they get back!

♡ graves probably pimps out puppy to his shadows there I said it

♡ konig isnt to slick with his touches either, he may think hes going undetected but that's only by our dumb mutt the other men are fuming with him. He let's you sit in his lap, his bear like hands inbetween your thighs rubbing along your most intimate areas you dont exactly connect what hes doing and hes completely okay with that just grind yourself back on him.

♡ he probably asks horangi to help him out, probably stretching you to prepare for the brute of the man

♡ definitely think gangbangs are a big part of your heat, vibrators, plugs, rope and muzzles are all items your familiar with. I like to think they just come and go when fucking you it's almost like a brothel

♡ they definitely finger fuck you while doing mindless tasks, brushing their teeth? You're bent over the sink pushing yourself back onto them, doing paperwork? Being cockwarmed by your snug lil cunt, lifting weights? You're bouncing on their cock weighing them down

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Happy holidays! By any chance, could I ask for a HC where MC gets into an accidental baby acquisition trope and has to babysit with Azul, Sebek, Malleus, and Riddle?

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul is about to write a ransom note if this person expects to get their baby back. He’s drawing up the terms of the contract as you’re coddling the baby, knowing there wasn’t a point in trying to talk him out of it as he was already infuriated that he’d had this responsibility dumped on him randomly. He doesn’t get how you can just accept this injustice and you rolled your eyes at him, telling him most people didn’t spend an hour negotiating a deal before performing a task. He still doesn’t want much to do with the baby but unfortunately for him the baby is endlessly fascinated with him; they constantly reach out to grab at his glasses or his hair, and he’s quickly scribbling additions onto the bill in regards to smudges and emotional distress.

He does eventually hold them when you have to retrieve something (the other alternative being they took off into the lounge if he just left them on the ground which he knew would piss you off, and he especially didn’t feel like dealing with that) but he claimed he didn’t enjoy the time. The baby continued to poke and prod at him, with Azul returning the gesture and poking at the baby’s cheeks which only sent them into a fit of giggles. It almost got a smile out of him but he couldn’t take the hit to his pride, huffing and hastily handing the baby back over when you returned.

Malleus Draconia:

Please keep an eye on that baby. Malleus’ only interaction with human babies had been with Silver when he was just a little ball of chub, and with Lilia being his father… Silver was lucky to have survived his childhood but he had always been special. This baby was not Silver however, and while Malleus would never purposely put them in harms way you can see he doesn’t have the same gentleness another human might have with a fragile little baby. He doesn’t mind when you correct him on the proper way to hold them and listened intently as you explained some of the actions to avoid, like pulling at their little limbs or allowing anything to hit their head. He thinks this is an interesting learning experience though he’s not quite sure what he might need to know about taking care of a human baby, but it also made him happy because it meant you were spending time together.

The baby looked up at Malleus with wide eyes at first, having never seen a fae with long horns or a man quite as striking as Malleus Draconia. They quieted down whenever Malleus spoke to them, seeming to like the sound of his voice and babbling back when he stopped talking. Once they were more comfortable with him they couldn’t help but reach up to touch his horns which you carefully monitored, watching as they felt the new texture and making sure they didn’t yank at them (or his hair) too harshly. Malleus commended their curiosity and lack of fear, thinking it was quite refreshing.

Riddle Rosehearts:

You might assume Riddle would try to collar a baby who was crying incessantly or who wouldn’t listen, but he was surprisingly patient. He took offense to that observation as of course you couldn’t force a baby to follow rules, but you could try and that would matter more than anything. He thinks it’s good to introduce kids to rules as early as possible so they can start getting them into their little heads even if they can’t memorize them quite yet; maybe in the future these early lessons would prove fruitful. He’s patient but it doesn’t mean he won’t get frustrated, able to pull all kinds of knowledge out about babies but not knowing how to truly connect with them.

The baby does stop crying each time Riddle began to talk about the rules, and he even pulled out a book to read through to keep them distracted. He thought this was a good activity because it gave them both something to do, and the little one did seem invested in what he was saying even if they didn’t truly understand. He had never been read to like this when he was young and it sent a pang through his heart, wondering if things might have been different if he had a little more wonder in his young life. Either way, he was no longer the baby in this situation and all he could do was hope they were enjoying their time with him while it lasted.

Sebek Zigvolt:

You think there might be a competition going on about who can be louder. Neither one of them even seem to be shouting but the baby responded with the same tone as Sebek, and his speaking voice just had a natural boom to it. While he had wanted to run at first you had begged him to help you, and while that hadn’t done much the baby’s fascination with Sebek’s portrait of Malleus had. You think the interaction is the funniest thing in the world especially when Sebek tried to indoctrinate the baby into the Malleus Draconia club, holding the portrait in his arms while tears gathered in his eyes.

The way he lit up when he talked about Malleus was cute and the baby clapped in response to his rambling, urging him to continue. Sebek wondered if he repeated Malleus’ name enough if the baby might say it. You stated the parents might not appreciate it but Sebek said it was their own fault as they were the ones who suddenly left him with the baby; either way, they should be honored if Malleus’ name was the first word they uttered. The baby has not a single clue what’s going on but thinks the two of you going back and forth is hilarious, collapsing into fits of giggles each time Sebek made a new face at you trying to reign in his Malleus obsession.

[hairyjocktf]

Building a New Life

Justin was the star wrestler at his high school. He had won regional titles and the adoration of all the local families for years, and was ready to head to college to continue his streak. Senior year he was at his peak, winning matches left and right. All he had to do was wait for those recruitment offers to roll in. He waited and waited, still kicking ass in his wrestling, but while everyone around him was committing and getting accepted, there were no letters to him. To his dismay, one never came. His plans for the future were shattered, what was he supposed to do now? The wrestling scholarship was his only shot for college.

With the year ending and not many options, Justin started looking for entry level jobs that would take him. He lived in a fairly rural area so most of what he found was either farm work or construction, and the latter paid better. He called one of them up and they told him to swing by the site a few days later. He drove out to the construction site later that week and walked into the mobile office they had there. The manager came out to greet him. He was a rugged man in his late 40’s, with a stocky build and thick stubble. He’d clearly been in the business for years and it showed through his worn hands and gruff voice from yelling orders at his lackeys. The man looked Justin up and down.

“A little scrawny but I can work with it,” he said after a few seconds.

“I was a top wrestler in the region!” Justin protested. 

“Doesn’t matter in this industry,” the man said flatly. “Can you handle heavy loads and equipment? Can you deal with being outside most of the day in rough weather?”

Justin was caught off guard, usually people were much nicer to him. “Of course I can! I can handle whatever you throw at me,” he assured.

“Well alright, If you think you can handle it let’s see how you do here,” the manager said, handing a pile of clothes to Justin. “Here’s your safety and HiVis gear, make sure it fits and then we’ll get you set up outside.”

Justin took his uniform to the bathroom to try it on real quick. It included a hard hat that was adjustable, which he fit to his head, a bright orange and yellow HiVis vest, and a couple other things. He put it all on and stepped back into the office. 

“Alright follow me, Justin was it?” the manager gestured towards the door.

“Yes sir,” Justin responded uncharacteristically.

“Name’s Blaine, the manager revealed, “Around here we usually work on residential projects, we’re currently assisting on a development outside of town.” He led them away from the office around the immediate site, which currently seemed to be mostly used as storage for equipment and materials. “Since you’ve got no experience you’ll start by shadowing some of our guys for a few weeks and handling more basic tasks til you’re ready for more,” he continued. “You can head back to the office and they'll take care of the nitty gritty for ya. I’m expecting great things from you, wrestler,” Blaine laughed as he left Justin and headed out towards the development. Justin heard his gruff voice booming in the distance as he barked orders to the workers.

Justin was unsure about all of this, but he didn’t really have a better option at the moment. He felt out of place in his new safety gear, and he was younger than nearly everyone he saw working. He took care of the paperwork and headed home for the day; they'd hired him on the spot to start the next morning. With considerable unease, he went to bed, closing one chapter of his life for the next. 

As the weeks went by Justin began acclimating to this new job fairly well. He got to know the guys he worked with, learned how to use the equipment, and began to feel comfortable on the site. He even felt like he had put on some mass to better handle all the physical work he was doing. His rock solid abs were a little less visible than they had been but for some reason that didn’t bother him. He was already starting to forget the sting of not being recruited for wrestling. Every day he came into work those past dreams seemed to fade a little more, replaced by his new life. His coworkers had made fun of him for having such a baby face at the beginning, but now he was starting to sport a little bit of stubble. Justin was slowly starting to blend in more with his new crowd.

The months continued to pass, with Justin becoming more and more entrenched in his new construction life. It was getting colder outside, and his body began to adjust without him even noticing. His stubble grew out into a real beard, short and dense. He began packing on more body fat as he spent less and less time at the gym and more and more working and drinking with his new bros. His voice began to sound a little deeper and rougher, matching those around him. The hard hat really suited him now with his more rugged looks. He had never been a good student in school but he seemed to really be taking to this new job, completely forgetting about his old goals. The occassional approving nod from Blaine was driving him forward. He was thriving in this new position, but the job wasn’t done with him yet.

Unbeknownst to Justin, under his thick winter clothes things were changing. His previously toned body, while still fairly muscular, was steadily becoming thicker with fat. Not only that, but he’d always been near perfectly smooth and that too was slowly changing. It had started with his chest, where on the previously bare skin thin wispy hairs had started to poke out. That didn’t last long though, as they were quickly overrun with thicker, darker hairs that began sprouting in between his pecs. They grew curly as they spread out, covering his entire chest in hair, spreading up across his collarbone and down across his slowly growing stomach. The new hairy coat was just another part of his insulation against the harsh winter weather. But the hairs didn’t stop there either. His pits erupted with thick wiry hairs, coating his underarms in curly hairs that trapped both heat and sweat. The hairs pushed out, tangling together as they formed a thick tuft of hair under each arm, even spreading out to connect with the rug on his chest. After each day of hard work he’d come home stinking like the other men he worked with, and over time he started to enjoy the musk he produced.

Of course he wasn’t done filling out his uniform quite yet. His formerly modest bush began growing with no end in sight, engulfing his groin in thick, wiry brown hairs that radiated out from his lengthening cock. Sometimes while on the site Justin would instinctively reach down in his pants to itch the growing bush, the feeling and texture of it driving him wild. With pubes erupting day and night his musk only grew stronger, as Justin began to truly have a manly aura around him that he’d never had before. It seemed to help him bond with the other guys more, as they welcomed him into their groups and invited him out more and more frequently. Underneath his work pants his legs bulked up considerably from carrying all sorts of materials around, followed closely by the same dark fur. It raced down his legs and coated them with curly hairs that rubbed against the inside of his increasingly tight jeans as he walked around, an almost arousing feeling. Within the first year of working Justin had gone up four sizes in his work boots, as his feet grew and widened to match the rest of him. The massive steel-toed boots hid how hairy his feet had gotten, with dark hairs covering the tops and toes.

The next year was largely the same. Justin continued slowly changing to better fit his new job. He was really beginning to excel at it, and he’d attained a close friendship with many of the men he worked with. It almost seemed as if he’d aged ten years over the last one, he certainly looked it at this point. His fur coat only thickened, growing even denser across his chest and stomach to the point you could barely see the skin beneath the hairs. Hair had also spread up and onto his shoulders before enveloping his massive back. The hairs gushed out across his shoulder blades before shooting down his spine and spreading out wide. The heavy coating slowly grew thicker and spread out further as time went on, reaching down to his ass. It too became covered with thick, dark hairs as it inflated to a truly massive size. During the warmer months sometimes he just wore his vest and hard hat, his incredibly thick hair covering the rest of him and sticking through his vest.

Justin earned the nickname ‘Grizzly’ from his coworkers after they saw how hairy he’d gotten, and his body had put on the size to match. Gone was the small but toned body of a wrestler, replaced by a thick, hairy, and sturdy body of a weathered construction worker. He oozed masculinity from not only his stained and dirty work clothes, but from the thick chest hair that he left his shirt open to show off. His entire body was now coated with a dense coat of hair and he liked to make that known, as long as he wasn’t caught against safety regulations at least. He never questioned why he’d changed so much in such a short span, it never even occurred to him, and honestly he liked his new life. He was just one of the guys working on the site now. The hair felt as natural to him as anything else, and the other guys seemed to like it even if they made fun of him once in a while. Occasionally when they went out drinking some of the guys would have too many beers and start rubbing their hands through his thick fur, but he didn’t mind at all. It felt good to be masculine, and to be appreciated for it by other guys. Months continued to pass though no one could really remember how long Justin had been working there at this point, but they were all glad he was there. He was the best construction worker on their team.

[solarmorrigan]

Okay, but imagine the absolute shit fit Eddie and Dustin would throw when it’s not either of them that finally manage to convince Steve to play D&D with them. It’s not Lucas, or Will, or even Erica, in all her terrifying, businesslike glory

It’s Mike fuckin’ Wheeler

Mike, who Steve has technically known longer than any of the other kids; who had never made a secret of when he’d thought Steve was a douchebag; who, even after Steve became de facto babysitter to the group and Mike could admit he didn’t entirely dislike him, had never quite warmed up to him the way the others had. Mike

Dustin has been on Steve’s case to join the game since they became friends, and Steve has said no every time. At first because it sounded complicated and boring and he had no interest, but later because he knows none of the other kids like him as much as Dustin does, and that’s fine, but he isn’t going to sit through something complicated and boring while a bunch of other kids glare at him

Sometime later, on one of the few nights neither Joyce nor Jonathan are available to pick Will up, and Steve is driving him home, Will mentions that it would be cool if Steve wanted to join in and play – since he has to schedule his nights around their games sometimes anyway, after all. Steve smiles and tells him thank you but no thank you. Will is kind, and patient to a fault, and Steve has no doubt Will would genuinely try to include him, but he doesn’t want anyone to feel like he should be invited as an obligation. He really doesn’t mind driving

After Steve starts playing basketball with Lucas, Lucas invites Steve in turn to play D&D with The Party. Steve turns him down, saying he’ll stick to what he’s good at. He wonders if maybe Lucas feels like they should do an exchange—Steve has given him some pointers on basketball, so maybe Lucas will give him pointers on D&D—but really, he’s happy spending his time playing with the kid. He doesn’t need to be offered anything else

Steve turns Eddie down flat no matter how much he wheedles, whines, or offers bribes of various favors and orgasms. He knows Eddie’s previous reputation, that he hasn’t been inclined to accept or be entirely patient with novices at the game in the past, so he’ll either sweep along as usual and leave Steve in the dust, or he’s planning to change his entire style to hold Steve’s hand and help him figure it out, probably to the detriment of everyone else’s enjoyment. Neither option is appealing

Erica asks Steve exactly once, telling him that the only way anyone is ever going to shut up about it is if Steve agrees to play. Steve tells her that, unfortunately, she’ll just have to continue putting up with their whining. She doesn’t seem happy, but she’s certainly not going to beg him to play, and that’s that

But then, one night, Mike watches the whole song and dance routine as Steve drops off Dustin, Lucas, and Erica; tells Dustin that no, he’s not going to stay tonight; kisses Eddie hello and also tells Eddie that no, he’s not going to stay tonight. Mike sighs loudly as Steve moves to head up the stairs and out of the basement

“Dude, we both know Eddie and Dustin have made, like, a dozen characters for you. Just pick one and play with us.”

And Steve stops

Because Mike has never pretended to like Steve. Mike has never pretended to like anyone. He’s jealously guarded membership into The Party, denying anyone he isn’t one hundred percent certain about. He’s about as protective over his nerd game as Eddie is (and as protective over his friends as Steve himself). And with no clear reason to, he’s asking Steve to join them

And Steve can’t help but admit that Mike may actually just want him to play – that maybe they all do (and maybe he sincerely does want to join them, even if it still sounds complicated and might still be boring; maybe he’ll just like spending time with them)

So he sits down and asks what the hell he’s supposed to be doing

(He’s never had so many people try to show him how to do something at once)

[lionheartedmusings]

once again rotating the qsmp and it's depiction of parenthood in my head and yeno i just... it makes me so deeply emotional it's not even funny? i remember conversations about "mothers and fathers" being the true qsmp theme song and i will die on that hill forever.

the thing that i find so poignant about it is that this was (as far as we know) never meant to be the story they were going to tell — the eggs were meant to come and go, a chapter in a story that would be looked back on fondly but one that was firmly over. and yet, the love. oh, the love.

it's so rare in media that we get such a raw and slow perspective of parenthood from the parents' perspective, to see the bonds forming and solidifying from "a responsibility that scares me" to "i would tear the world apart for you" — going back to vods of the first day of the eggs is wild, because they're filled with novelty and interest, but then time passes and we see love blossom.

we see love through grief too, like fit's voice when ramon lost his first life, or bad's screams when dapper had his nightmare, or the grief that came with trump, juana, and tilin's deaths. the desperation and grief of parents is an uncomfortable thing to witness, but in a medium like the qsmp it allows people to explore stories that are sometimes too heavy or too dark to portray in a less "goofy" medium.

we watched people's focus shift to their children as they embraced parenthood, especially in the face of loss, and we saw them accept truths that aren't pretty: if the eggs are there to manipulate them, okay. if they're a way for the federation to control them? fine. it doesn't matter, they're their children. they won't let go of them, not even if they're ultimately a means to keep them subdued.

the only time we've seen these characters truly lose their shit and rebel properly was when the eggs went missing, and that says so much. they'll almost accept losing their autonomy, but they won't lose their children.

it's been almost a year of the eggs, and they're the center of everything. every event, every game, every day — eggs are always the focus, whether it be in a "we need to protect them" way or a "i wonder what they want to do today" way. it's all about those kids.

meanwhile, we get to see these people be scared shitless, not have answers, be lost and confused half the time and not knowing how to handle every situation — they try their best, but time and time again they fumble and say the wrong thing, and have to apologise and try to do better next time.

it's so fucking beautiful, man. we see a day-to-day experience of parenthood and family (government assigned, found, chosen) that shows and movies can't give us because they're not a daily, breathing, on-the-go medium where we get to follow this one (or multiple bc none of us have lives) character through just... life.

in having this opportunity, we're privy to one of the most honest, human, and poignant depictions of parenthood and maturing that i've ever seen. we get to live this journey with these characters, and i'd bet a lot of money that that's part of why we're all so deeply attached to the eggs too.

long story short, storytelling is so fucking awesome and sometimes the most beautiful stories happen by accident.

[devourable]

⚠︎ the stalker

sfw, mdni, beta read by @fluffula | tags ;; masc yandere x gn reader — stalking (duh), themes of self deprecation/lack of self worth, erotomania

hii im back from my unannounced hiatus bc i have more time on my hands :] ik vega didnt win the poll but fsr theyre the only one i could get myself to write sooo 🫶 i know im super rusty since I haven't written in ages so sorry if this is a lackluster return fic. it just be like that

vega just wasn’t the type of person that people liked. it was a fact, and he was well aware of it.

they were lanky and awkward, unkempt, and often didn’t know what to say or do in any given social situation. no one went out of their way to interact with them and vice versa. the few times he ended up around others anyway, he always found himself sidelined by the few people he could refer to as friends — they’d never be the focus, if they weren’t forgotten about entirely.

they weren’t anyone’s first choice. hell, they weren’t a second or third choice, either. it was a sad existence that he had accepted long ago — why bother trying to fit in if he wasn’t wanted? he was so boring, he wouldn’t wanna hang out with himself either, anyway. so every day and every night, they were alone.

then, he met you.

it started so simply. you started working at the same office as them, and they knew off the bat that it was your first time in a place like this. they expected nothing of you — maybe a lukewarm greeting as you passed each other during the workday, but not much more than that. so it surprised them when after your introduction, you rounded their desk and gently asked if they could show you around. maybe it was something about your tone, maybe it was that friendly look in your eye, maybe it was just you as a whole. but something about you just got them. they were out of their chair before they realized it.

they weren't the talkative type, but it didn't matter — you kept asking questions during the entire tour. what was that room for? how long had they been working there? did they like working there? you wanted their attention and they for the life of them couldn’t get why. even less so, they didn’t understand why they were so ready to give it to you. they couldn't help the way they stuttered out their answers to your questions, nor the way their face flushed after you laughed at the way they responded. but you did have to work, so you withdrew from them eventually to do just that.

well after you departed to your cubicle, you remained on their mind. your voice, the way you laughed, how you looked, it all swirled around in their mind as they sat in their desk. it remained that way the entire day, the following night, and the day after — they couldn't get you off their mind!

you chose him. you chose him, out of everyone else in the office. you were the only person that did that, and it made them feel so seen. so real, so… loved? was this what love was? the pounding in their chest and their flushed face would make him believe so. they couldn’t wait to see you again. just the thought of you returning the next day and every day after that bloomed butterflies in their tummy.

vega’s longing for you only grew more and more intense after every passing day. every day you came to work, they’d be the first to greet you and the last to bid you goodbye. they even changed their days off to match yours — going to work hardly seemed worth it if you weren’t there to make the day more bearable. every day they sat at their desk, daydreaming about spending time with you, going home with you, doing all the things they never imagined that they’d ever do before. and even though they were too awkward to seek you out during the work day, it didn’t stop them from staring at you every chance they got.

but after that first day, you paid less and less attention to them. you had work to do, after all, and no matter how hard they yearned for you, it grew harder to get you to notice them and harder for them to watch you. it was excruciating. for the first time in his life, vega wanted to be wanted — by you, specifically. he wanted your attention, your voice, your eyes on them again. but if they couldn’t have that, they needed to see you more to make up for it.

the stalking started small at first. occasionally following you when you got up from your desk to give a file to your supervisor or use the restroom, pretending to be distracted should you ever notice them (which you hardly did — they didn’t know if that bothered them or not). sometimes he ended his day at the same time yours ended so he could walk out with you, watching you leave from their car before they left themself. and eventually they started to follow you home directly. it was always from a distance. they wouldn’t want to frighten you, after all! it was okay as long as you weren’t bothered by it, he told himself.

he memorized your routine so he could base his own around it. you went to the store? he was going too. spending the day at the library? he was stalking after you from a different aisle. sometimes they’d leave little gifts on your doorstep just to see your bewildered reaction. watching you became his favorite pastime — they almost liked it more than talking to you directly. you somehow never noticed them lurking, staring at you from some shady hiding spot, panting and trembling just from the sheer excitement that your existence caused them. were you aware of just how cute you were when you thought no one was watching you? knowing all your bad habits, your mannerisms and all the things you did in private was exhilarating. it was like a secret for just the two of you. and whenever you came into work and talked to him like you usually did, it made him so fucking excited. did you know? maybe you did and you were fine with it. that had to be why you were so nice to them. they loved the idea of you liking their bad behavior.

vega had no plans of confessing to you anytime soon. he had so much fun stalking you, he saw no need to ruin it with his feelings. besides, you liked them back anyway — you had to have, why else would you let him get away with it for so long? he knew you wanted him, and he wanted you in return. all he had to do was wait for you.

[brucewaynehater101]

Okay, you know that hc where Tim Reincarnates as The Trash of the Bat Family? It got me thinking of him scamming and making the "Real League of Assassins". He integrates Pru, Z and Owens early, makes them his people (or assassins disguised as servants).

"Where's the coffee?"

Owens, pouring chamomile tea, "We're all out of coffee, Sir."

"Energy drinks?"

Pru, throwing a trash bag away. "All gone too, Sir."

He integrates Kon before he experiences the SA with Tana Moon and other ladies, and Kon becomes his bodyguard.

"Are we doing something bad?"

"Oh, we're doing something veeeeery bad. To Lex Luthor."

Tim rescuing Damian.

"You're Damian Al Ghul Wayne. You're an Al Ghul and a Wayne. You can do whatever you want. I'm not taking care of you."

Damian, not trusting this lying bastard, secretly follows him around. Tim knows Damian is, and begrudgingly just accepts Damian into his fold until he reaches Gotham again.

"If you die, Timothy, I will dominate the world, kill everyone, and then myself."

I love these additions so much!!!

The "Real League of Assassins" is such a petty name, and I live for it. Just Tim as a kid and his little League of Assassins (depending on how far back he went into the past and how soon he aquires the OG best assassin squad). It would be double hilarious if his "Real League of Assassins" doesn't actually kill anyone, but I also respect Tim's right to commit murder however he deems fit. I like to imagine how mad Ra's would get at the name.

Part of Tim's asshole cover comes from Pru. There's two ways this can go. One, Pru is her complete self in front of everyone (she will break someone's nose no matter their price tag). This causes major scandals and issues for Tim cause how could he hire someone who behaves like that? Or Two, Pru is creepily pleasant and respectful around other company, and Tim continues to act like usual around her. This causes people to pity Pru for having such a horrible boss.

I also live for Bodyguard Kon AUs. You know the two of them are playing a "I know your sickly Victorian child looking ass can beat me up, but I will pretend I don't know this until you tell me why" with a "please stop saving me from every small things because I know you know a sunburn isn't going to kill me." It's dealer's choice on how soon Kon finds out about Tim's vigilante gig. Also, if Kon is a bodyguard in this, is he also Superboy or the equivalent? Does he become a superhero once he finds out about Tim's heroism? There's no way Kon would stick around Tim if he believed the persona Tim kept up.

Cue Tim accidentally forming the YJ again, but this time it's hidden from the JL radars and is a closely guarded secret.

As far as Damian, I absolutely love that quote you included. It's so Damian coded and I live for him threatening to take over the world. I also want to see Tim's reaction and how concerned he is over Damian threatening to kill himself. As an older brother, he legit could care less about Damian managing to kill the entire world. It's Damian wanting to die that scares him.

As far as the AU, Tim is trying so hard to distance himself from the Waynes that his dumbass shouldn't have picked up Damian in person. He was probably too anxious to leave it to someone else, but now he has a tiny suspicious assassin who reluctantly became fond of him.

There's a few different ways this can play out.

One, Tim picks up Damian in his vigilante costume and never unmasks to Damian. The little tot starts to think of this vigilante as maybe a brother before being given to Bruce (angst of abandonment tied with identity shenanigans. How soon does Damian realize that Timothy "Trash" Drake is the one to save him from the League?).

Two, Tim starts off with his secret identity in tact but reveals himself while traveling back. They bond, Damian is left at Bruce's, and, to the surprise of literally all the Waynes, the kid is seen constantly talking to the complete jerk Timothy Drake. Damian is actually nicer to this douchebag stranger than he is to some of his family members. What's equally shocking is how kind Tim is to Damian. Tim hasn't been cruel to children before, but he hasn't gone out of his way to be nice either. This cues investigations into Tim by the batfam.

Three, Damian refuses to go live with his dad and sticks around Tim when they return to Gotham. Depending on when Tim rescues Damian, Tim's fake uncle adopts Damian, and they become brothers legally. When Bruce finds out Damian is his son, he doesn't take the excuse, "I found him on the streets!" from Tim seriously.

[popponn]

in perfection and in imperfection.

summary: he is loving, so much so, despite everything and because of 'everything' he calls as you. (a short headcanons of them as boyfriend, again.)

notes: january feels like it will be a busy month for me. in a good way, it's a good feeling. maybe this is also a sign i will meet rl isagi. those things aside, happy new year everyone. good luck for this year too. have this very fit of madness hcs. warnings: none, just fluff of downbad & lovesick boys, reader's gender unspecified.

characters: isagi, chigiri, rin

isagi yoichi—

is so understanding and sharp that you will never feel uncared for. most probably also got a list of your favorite things & important dates in his notes & calendar. even noel noa doesn't get that privilege. he is so downbad that everyone just accepts everything is second to you (and soccer).

is the type that gets so into you once you get his heart. do you worry that you might be #2 soccer? stay still babe, at some point you kind of mix in with 'the soccer' too honestly. every first goal? dedicated in your name. first person to call after a match? you—no matter how short or long it will be, it has to be you. he is away for a match overseas? you better be the one who gets a sleep call schedule ready because when yoichi wants something yoichi will somehow do it. and if you try to praise him—despite all the years of growing confidence—he still gets flustered like a boy with his first crush when it's you. it's as endearing as it is embarrassing to him. if someone points it out he will state it with pride though—after all, his feelings for you are one of his pride.

however, is also the type of guy who would rather shoulder as much as possible. he does it out of love, sure, but having him trying to swallow some problem under the guise of "forcing you to change something is a big no" is just asking for a bigger problem in the long run. so, you do have to be the one who gets the serious talks starting—and he sometimes could get really stubborn even though he is one of the most communicative ones so get ready for that. the thing with yoichi is that he really has to get it to accept it.

chigiri hyoma—

is a beautiful ikemen who walks with the charm of a shoujo manga lead maxed out. as in if this guy falls for you he just naturally acts like a shoujo lead who came to life. and he is also one of the most fashionable guys who puts attention and care on his and your appearance. try to aim for the cutest couple award and high chance you will win.

is also a very dedicated man. he will make sure you know how much he treasures you and it shows. he is not the tidiest person, he is also a pretty demanding guy, but with you? "fine, okay. i'm doing this just for you, you know," he says and hyoma doesn't lie. he will do anything for you. the amount of trust he puts on you is really evident too and he is not one to shy away from saying it. also, trust that this guy will gladly run across tokyo on a lazy monday morning during his rare break just to deliver you anything if you ask. he will demand kisses, yes, but that's also a benefit in its own way.

but, he is also very moody and, admittedly, impatient. so when he gets into this sort of mood you have to keep your head clear and deal with him until his head cools down. he won't hurt you—he will never—but without a doubt his attitude and wording could definitely drag your anger out. he also tends to focus on one thing and one thing only when he gets like this, while it has its benefits, during these times you have to be really patient when trying to talk to him.

itoshi rin—

is the type of guy who truly embodies "it's the small things". also, he is so attentive and combining this with the fact he is more into action than words—you honestly get yourself a gold mine of top-tier 'act of service' bf.

is actually very affectionate once you can translate his silent languages. he is always close to you at every chance he gets. it's not even funny. some people could translate this as some guard dog behavior, some braver souls translate this like a kid following the elder around, but honestly rin just likes being close to you. it calms him down in a way that also somehow manages to keep him awake—which is a nicer way to put 'this guy sometimes barely blinks when he is staring at you'. your happiness is one of his top priorities and he will bite someone literally if he has to just for that. this is how bad it is. but all in all, all of this is a way for him to keep an eye for you and be ready to assist you in anything—you need to take something? you need him to carry something? you want to buy something? just leave it to him, it will make him happy too. if you get overwhelmed? tell him, this guy is actually really quick to adjust things the moment he gets it. and for you? he will somehow do it even faster.

with all that being said though, this guy could get confusing at times. when he gets into a particularly negative thought, his first response would be to bark out his emotions and afterward distance himself. clearly, communication with him is hard. but despite all the silent treatment you get, he still wants to have you close—while being the one who keeps his distance from you. dealing with rin when he is being like this truly requires maturity and delicacy that probably rivals an esper skills.

[fauustic]

a second chance

BRIEF SPOILERS FOR ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE, DESCRIPTION OF REVEALED WORLD-BUILDING.

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

angst. comfort. a bit of fluff. miguel o’hara breaks up with you for your safety, but the universe gives you both a second chance.

warnings: description of violence.

word count: 7358

Somehow, the city seemed even more suffocating out the window of Miguel’s apartment, lights of every color on the spectrum peering into the room as highly advanced cars skimmed by. The millions of people inhabiting such a place had their own problems, but for a moment you wished you were someone else. On their way to work in a tip-top business suit, an old person trying to make the most out of every passing day– anything other than here was more appetizing.

For a moment, you wish you were ignorant to the burden of these powers, the powers Miguel was forced upon and the powers you greedily accepted like a little kid in a candy shop.

It was all too much.

You’ve never seen Miguel so emotional, his knees meeting the ground before you could even shut the door.

There were glimpses of what let through, the broken state of his mind that he so desperately tried to keep together like grains of sand falling through fingers. Late nights he would break down sobbing in your grounding hold, chanting and repeating broken phrases of what had him so upset. Other times these fits you slowly grew accustomed to would be set off from your kindness, actions so deeply rooted in your routine that when it started creating disturbances in your relationship. It was painful, being the glue that held him together.

At the beginning of your relationship, it was something magical. Like one of the romance comics you’d skim through as a teenager, or a romcom movie that had you pining for the lovey-dovey side character.

Miguel was set in his ways no matter what he was faced upon, and making a statement on how serious he felt about you was no different. He’d court you with the utmost respect, swaying you with gifts and flowers that reminded him of you. His affectionate nature came to fruition as you crumbled all his walls in mere months, destroying the years of progress that he enforced to keep others out.

Yet, those nasty habits Miguel formed when he had no-one else slowly peeked through the crevices of your time together. Soft red flags that waved in passing roses he’d give after bad arguments of “your safety,” a bad feeling in your gut whenever Miguel mentioned something along the lines of, “they can’t hurt you too.”

The few months leading to the end of it all was messy, as secrets he precariously kept away from you fell right at your feet. Literally, and figuratively.

Waking into your shared home, all that was on your mind was preparing a meal for you boyfriend who always seemed to come home late. The scent of the apartment washed over your exhaustion-ridded body, cracking your shoulder with a pained hiss.

Distinct woody fragrances wafted throughout the cozy décor, Miguel’s aroma of Sambac jasmine combined with cedar and praline met your senses as a familiar comfort. You wondered if Miguel experienced the same after a long day, your magnolia and orange blossom washes relieving him of the stress of work.

Miguel was overwhelmed, sickened by his work at his lab. You’d always try to help him through his struggles with a massage, which he'd melt under your touch in mere seconds, but the moment you attempted to get him to speak about his troubles he always found an excuse. 

So you stopped, having to face rejection so many times by the man you adored put so much wear on your own mental health too.

Getting home a bit earlier, you situated your suit in your over-the-shoulder bag before fully stepping into the apartment. As your entire being was surrounded by the reminder of Miguel, guilt slashed through your consciousness at keeping your own secrets away from him as well. But he was worried sick always, whether it be about his own duties or confusingly about your safety.

Yet, when your sneakers you changed into moments before entering the house slipped onto something haphazardly thrown against tile floor– the façade Miguel tried to feed into to "keep you away from harm" came crashing down. 

It felt like an earthquake within your own home, rattling your heart around your ribcage like a feral bird stuck in an aviary. You were quiet, the gasp where sickness soon followed escaped through your stifling fingers wrapped against your mouth. It was terrible, being exposed to the truth in an act caught red-handed.

Curiosity snatched up your brain, the urge to prove what the mask strewn against the floor truly meant. You knew what was bound to come, but you couldn't help but think of a million different excuses in the time you tiptoed through the hallway and met the sight of his scarred back sitting upon the table.

His suit was torn off in a hurry, you assumed, by the state of how the half of his suit was rolled down to his waist and his mask was ripped off and thrown down carelessly. Finally catching him in such a vulnerable position, your heart seized and shriveled just to be rolled out again as his groan in pain cut you away from your thoughts.

 You were upset. You know you had no right to be, but as every lie he fabricated to allow the space to have this second life pushed to the forefront of your mind, a choked sob erupted through your throat.

Why did he suffer through this burden alone? Is this what kept him from letting me in? Your brain became muddled with questions, tears clouding your tired gaze. Miguel was in the middle of tightening a gauze against a nasty cut on his forearm, curls damp with sweat and blood, when the choked cry that escaped your lips caught his attention like a spooked animal.

"Miguel," you sobbed harder as he continued to try and make excuses,

"Cariño, it isn't what it looks like–" 

Your voice raised as heightened emotions threatened the atmosphere, your grasp on your bag tightening because you had your own secrets and second identity. Why wouldn't honesty escape from your mind and rid the ache in your chest? 

You settled on being mad. Being absolutely furious as you reminded yourself of the lies he'd conjured, make you worry about his job as a chemist and even embarrass yourself by going up there and filing a complaint. Knowing it was all an act and you were just a side-character to his play, a mix of disappointment and betrayal fogged your mind. "I'm not blind, O'Hara!"

Stomping back down to swipe up the mask, lens broken and flimsy under your manhandling, you waved it around the air like you were showcasing an audience. Miguel only groaned, pinching his nose as his own frustration clouded his critical thinking. "I know exactly what I'm looking at, Miguel, really? Is this why you act like you're so fucking scared of something?"

He repeated your name this time, cold and calculated. Like you were a villain on the battlefield Spider-man– he– just destroyed earlier, spitting out the criminal's tag like it was worse than the dirt he stepped on. "¡Mierda!" He seethe, standing up only to shuffle closer, but you only stepped away. "Do you think I enjoyed keeping this fucked up secret away from you? No estoy orgullosa de mí misma."

Tell him you have the same problems.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" You cried instead, and his hands reached to cradle your cheeks but you pathetically swiped them away. 

Tell him you have to worry about living until the next day for the sake of protecting others.

He was frozen stiff, his hands– claws you've never noticed before, unsheathing in and out of his palms. "I.. was. But I was terrified."

Tell him you're scared of others finding out who you really are too. Tell him you relate, and there was no reason to hide anymore. 

But you didn't, instead you wiped away your own tears with sweaty palms, struggling to keep yourself from staring at Miguel's broken expression. He looked like a kicked puppy, his arms reaching out to you subtly to show if you walked into his arms he'd never let you go.

"Scared of what?" You tried your best to sound as furious as before, but all that came was a meek whisper. 

Miguel's own tears fell onto the floor, catching your eyes as you stared at his mask in your clutches. "I'm so, so fucking scared of losing you. Tú eres mi vida, the air I breathe. You're the one constant I've had in my life, having it ripped away from me would kill me."

He's finally being open, and for a moment you saw light at the end of the tunnel. A turning point for the man, a second chance at being transparent in your relationship. It gave you the courage to come clean about your own second life and to apologize for your irrational words. But he spoke before you, rough and etched with hurt.

"But I don't know if we can keep this up."

"What?" The trance he was putting you under was shattered.

He laughed at nothing, his stare tinted with animalistic craze. Miguel's claws dug into his curls, "We need to break up." 

The mask in your grip fell, a stunned silence settling over the two of you. He had just said he couldn't live without you, how he wouldn't know what to do if you were ripped away from him– and now he's proposing a breakup? 

"You, what? Is this some joke?"

He turned away from you, pacing in unsaid panic. You knew he didn't want to do this, yet once he had a plan in his mind you also knew that he'd sacrifice anything to do the "right thing."

Miguel repeats your name the second time that night, your composure thrown off at the lack of pet names he would utter like honey from his tongue. He sounds hollow, dissociated from himself to make this discussion finish quicker. "They, I'm scared– okay? Scared shitless that they're going to come after you." He wheezed out another dry laugh, his bruised knuckles coming to kiss his eyes to blind his vision. The loudness of your voice from before must be giving him headaches. Because you were struggling with the same thing too.

"I can fend for myself–" you began to counter, hands coming in contact with the spider suit in your bag before his booming voice shook you to your core.

"No, no. You don't understand." Sobs choked his words, a flood of tears he couldn't bother to rid staining his cheeks and rolling down his jaw. "You can't! They're coming for me, and the ones I love. And the only one I love is you." Miguel emphasized himself by grazing your chest with a talon, exactly where your heart beat lurched and pattered like a broken down engine. "They will target you, and they will kill you."

Desperate, you were the one now begging for him to walk into your embrace. But he only turned away, his marred back facing you. The image burned itself in your mind.

"Who are they, Miguel? Why, even now, you won't tell me anything?" You sank to your knees, crawling towards him in despair. It couldn't be over.

"Hemos terminado. We're done, over." Miguel's tone steeled over, icy and painful and jarring. "Get out of my house."

He stood there like a statue, one arm holding himself only for his free hand to be pinching the bridge of his nose. Miguel didn't move as you quieted down your wails, and storm through the house to take what was yours and what you needed.

No words left your lips as you would steal a glance at his unmoving figure, the only giveaway that he was even breathing was his wavering composure. His attention stayed fixated on a corner of his apartment, head turned away from you the entire time.

You didn't care that you were still leaving so much of your stuff as your legs tripped over themselves to finally leave his apartment. You had more than enough money to live on your own, to buy the barebones like a toothbrush and necessities all over again.

Miguel O'Hara would now be a thing of the past, and all of the things tied to him could burn down in the apartment he held you. 

Your senses could tell that once your sneakers squeaked down the hallway of his apartment, thinking you would never be able to notice– Miguel's knees met the floor of his apartment with a heavy thud.

Fighting the amount of bags in your hands while simultaneously pushing the button of the first floor repetitively, the last memory you have of Miguel was his unfiltered sobs filling the apartment floor.

☆

With time, you found yourself.

Whether it be from the new body wash you had bought for yourself or the different commute you began to take for work, a niche engineering project you've stumbled upon after the breakup– and it coincidentally helps you test materials that you could incorporate into your suit. The constant reminder of the man you brought to your knees didn't hurt that much anymore. Progress was being made, or so you thought.

Every time your back met a brick wall from the force of some outer-dimensional monster turned sentient who all of a sudden wants to get back at the human race, the thud that echoed from the impact would knock you right back to the apartment filled with sweet praline and magnolia. His sobs trailing behind a screech of pain from your enemies, causing hesitation in your combat.

The cheers below you snapped you out of your daze, civilians chanting for your victory or screaming in fear as they ran away. After the breakup, you've found yourself with the leniency of being able to suit up whenever your heart desires because you weren't keeping a secret away from another anymore.

You bit your cheek in frustration, upset at how you handled the situation because you had done the same and you were mad at him for doing exactly what you were doing. All these months have passed, and you still can't help but feel guilty.

But it's in the past now.

Another screech met your ears, back shivering as a chill washed over your spine. With the fast reaction speed you were able to build, you swung out of the way to another rooftop before the alienistic creature side slammed you. The web slinger you have tinkered with enhanced your ability to shoot out organic webs at a consistent pace, working as fine as a charm when you swing back towards the vicious monster to crunch your knuckles sickeningly into its slimy flesh. It glitched disgustingly.

It withered away with ease, falling off the skyscraper it had leaped upon in an attempt to finish you off. Throwing a device onto the being, it was trapped into a vibrant hold it couldn’t get out of.

Your soft cream-white suit glistened with its green blood, covering the black trim you painstakingly painted in the dead of night.

The appearance you kept up as a Spider-person upgraded with time because you didn't exactly mind the limelight. Not staying in the shadows anymore since you didn't have to worry about O’Hara finding out about you, your suit became something you adorned with confidence. It was a part of you now, as cheers sounded out from below at your entertaining brawl with a slime monster that totally wants to eradicate the city. 

But yeah, go ahead and cheer you poor ignorant souls.

You never really came up with a name, but as you began incorporating little trinkets on your newly added combat satchel like a stray feather and charms of swans because a little girl said "your suit reminded her of one," the news generously graced you with the title "Spider Swan." On some bad days on the broadcast, though, the name would easily become a tomato show for jokes like "baby bird couldn't flap its wings," or "someone left the nest a bit too early."

It was infuriating.

The headgear installed in your mask allowed you to pick up on police waves, listening into calls and urgent matters so you could have a better idea of where you were needed and how you could help.

It rang through the noise of webs slinging from a glass window to a neon billboard, the police urgently requesting backup on a city street not that far away from you. It was describing a creature just like the one you obliterated, slimy and green and totally not from your universe. A scream pierced the radio waves, encouraging a sense of a little more urgency in your movements.

Becoming more involved with this line of work, you began to understand Miguel's worries. Corrupt organizations would pray for your downfall, threatening everyone you should probably hold dear to your heart as your spurred shoes met the slide of their faces. Other times skilled criminals would form alliances with one another and try to dig up your true identity as a way of blackmail.

It never worked and they're now where they need to be, but you suppose after you hear so many threats you begin to take it with nonchalance– and suddenly it isn't an empty threat– the panic that overwhelmed O’Hara was perfectly reasonable.

The beautiful lights of the underground city lit up against your lenses like a wildfire, a visual feast you’ve never been able to get enough of. Swinging throughout the tight spaces of Nueva York, you neared closer to where you were needed. A gunshot veered past you, presumably from a dumb cop, and you had to flip in the air and roll onto the street before picking up speed again.

Hissing out in pain, a quip escaped your lips when you neared the police force. “Did anyone here train to do their job? The last time I was here you almost shot me in my good eye–” Before you could even finish your sentence, two rookies pulled their guns in a defensive stance. With a heavy sigh, you easily subdued them with your webs before swinging into action.

The monster looked as if it was already struggling, turned away from your figure and groaning in its mother tongue, oozing with a gross slime that littered and disrupted the flow of traffic down below. It was relatively larger than the one you had just captured and suddenly the device in your hand feels a little too small. Nonetheless, as the villain flailed lazily, the heel of your foot met the crunching sensation from one of its many eyes. You almost gagged as it exploded onto your white suit, but the navy blue lenses meeting your contrasting white made time stop. It wasn’t until one of the many tentacles belonging to the creature yanked your ankle– soaring you violently towards a skyscraper– that the trance from the one you had been avoiding was interrupted with a shock.

“You–”

He had been trying to find you like a fox finding a bunny, you knew that. Waiting in the shadows, you always see him stalking beyond the darkness. And now you’re right here, finally coexisting in the same space after months of a cat-mouse game. “Can’t exactly talk here,” You yelled, deepening your voice in a pitch that made you cringe. “Let’s put a raincheck on what’s going on here and focus on the weird dimensional-octopus that’s currently beating your ass.” Spider-Man, with a groan of frustration that was just so familiar, noticeably squinted in your direction that had you sweating bullets as he right hooked the head of the monstrosity.

You knew everything about him. He knew nothing about you.

“I’m supposed to be the one and only Spider-Man of this–” He dodged a tentacle aiming for the head, only to unsheathe his claws and start ripping into the flesh of the villain. The smell, something similar to the stench of Sulphur mixed with radioactive chemicals. It burned your enhanced senses, tipping your balance before you caught yourself. 

“Well obviously, you’re not.” Steadying your emotions, the calmness of your tone contrasted his irritability. “You know it’s not impossible–” Webs meeting tentacles, the screech of the glitching excrescence interrupting your words before quickly silencing it with another heel to the eyes. Pointing up and then at the watch around his wrist, you gave him a pointed look and a shrug. Nothing was said, but at the exasperated howl at your accusatory gesture– he obviously understood the unsaid. 

“I’ve been speaking to you for a minute–” Another punch. “And I’m already finding you the most annoying out of all of them–”

You rolled your eyes, webbing the tentacles of the monster together like shoelaces stuck together. “Gee, thanks tough guy.” No response.

The monstrosity the two of you had been grappling against grew more frantic with its movements, growing more aware of its losing battle by the moment. With defeat in tow, the tentacles split into multiple. Green juice splattering excessively over the city blocks, it screamed horrendously in pain. The dimensional monster was imploding into itself, never allowing it the chance to return back to its universe.

Being so close to the glitching, dramatic death of the slime monster– Spider-Man pushed the heaving half-corpse’s weight off his own in a flurry. Always having to be quick on your feet in this field, you webbed the monster in the air so it could hang uselessly– the death of the anomaly would not be able to interfere with anything amongst Nueva York. 

Being on your own despite having so much at your finger-tips, the separation between you and O’Hara made things difficult. You were on your own despite being at the core of everything. 

Head buzzing with spider senses, your attention snapped towards the man that is tangled with your entire being– a useless game of push-and-pull that neither one of you are giving into. 

Spider-Man miscalculated the leap away, his claws trying to find purchase in the metal beams of the building. But something was wrong, the slime running down his forearms ruining his suit’s resistance. 

The structure O’Hara clung to was threatening to crumble due to the constant strain of the battle, doused in the greasy muck that pixelated and discolored by each passing moment the villain was close to combusting entirely. Before you knew it, the construction of the building that was so complexly fabricated was coming down and shifting into rubble on the borough down below. 

Your limbs began moving on its own, your mind racing into a frenzy of saving the people down below and the man you revolved around like the sun and moon– unknowing forces pushing the two of you together but never touching. 

Until now.

The collision lasted only seconds, but to you it was as if the eclipse was forever. Skin sizzling with nerves you didn’t even know you could feel ignited aflame, the pads of your feet coming into contact with the building’s crumbling walls– diving into spaces and using the webs you shot as a catapult. 

Your hold came into contact with a body before you knew it, warm and intimate like you were back in his home. Tucked away in the softness of his duvet, your arms wrapped around his skin like an anchor against the raging waves. Memories came flooding in, lightheaded with your spider senses crying out in danger against the puzzle pieces that placed O’Hara on a pedestal. The first rose he gave you floated through the crevices of your brain, an astray petal landing softly on a memory you forced down. 

The radioactive spider that latched its fangs into your skin on the night you met O’Hara, pain mixing with anticipation. 

It's like the city lights grew more vibrant at the realization, soda blue mixing with dragon fruit pink– lime green swirling with sunny yellow. Everything fits together. This was how it was supposed to go, despite all the pain.

Strength you’ve built up allowed yourself to heave him onto your shoulder, breathing heavily at his weight crushing yours. But determination and adrenaline pushed you further, swinging through the shadowed city until you found a safe perch– laying him down gently. Time was running out, but you had to do what needed to be done.

Ripping on the tattered mask upon your face, you scooped up his head into a soft grasp. Right hand behind his neck and the other leaning the back of his head towards your unearth identity, his lenses tiredly widened at the abrupt reveal.

Tears you didn’t know you had in you– not shedding a tear ever since the day the two of you broke up– flooded your eyes and rolled down your sliced skin. Salt mixed with flesh, the pain kept you wide awake and aware.

“Still the most annoying one you ever met?” You couldn’t help but try to ease the tension in the atmosphere, yet failing with obvious reason.

O’Hara whispered your name like a blessing, claw upon his chest meeting the dirt on your cheek in the softest graze he’s ever bestowed against you. “You– you’re here.”

“I’m here.” You echoed, resting your forehead against his own. His suit caressed against your skin, and the world stopped. All that you could hear was his soft wheezing of breath and your own, and suddenly everything felt okay.

“¿Cómo puede ser eso?” He muttered aloud, “How can this be? How are you here?” he became a mumbling mess as nervousness clutched his rationality. O’Hara’s hand swiping against your jaw shifted to the small of your back in a hug. It was like nothing had ever happened, and you were about to fall in the ravine of his presence before a ear-blasting trill of beams breaking pulled you back into reality. You stood up, rolling your mask back on before looking down below. A miracle was going to have to happen for everything to turn out okay, but you were willing to take that risk. He called your name, reaching the hand not clutching his side out in desperation. “Don’t do this– you can’t change–”

You kept your back turned, shooting your webs onto a piece of rubble falling for leverage. “Don’t you dare fucking move.” Was the last thing you said before you plunged into the chaos that was unravelling Nueva York from the inside out.

☆

The abrasion of concrete rubbing against your skin carved into your skin, until it didn’t. Dust threatened to enter your lungs as you weaved in and out of obstacles created from the fissures of collapsing high-rises, bodies clasping onto you like a lifeline– until that ended as soon as you started as well.

Everything made sense finally, and then it stopped. Paused as soon as it strengthened, disentangling memories and causing fragmentation.

Lips met yours, the firm grasp of palms against your hips. “Cariño, you don’t understand how much I’ve thought about my mouth on yours since we last met.”  A familiar voice whispered into your ear, kneading into your flesh as each syllable rolled out lazily. But the warm breath fanning the side of your face never came, and the wisps of hair that met your forehead never tickled you.

The touch of an elevator button against your index ignited your senses, bags dragging down your tired form. The thud of knees meeting tile followed, before ending with sobs echoing in the corners of your mind.

Darkness enveloped your mind, the vibrancy of neon lights that grew so comforting never came. 

Cold metal met your limbs, grazing your chest and the beeping of a scan met your ears. Orange hues painted the darkness for just a moment, before vanishing like a hallucination. Little bits and pieces of words would echo throughout the chamber you’ve found yourself in– “When do you think,” – “¡Mierda! Are you even doing your job correcting?!” – “Let me take over,” “You have no idea what you are even looking at, Miguel!” – “But you do?!”

It was like this for a while, until the words grew closer and the colors overlapping pitch black spread like webs. 

The first thing you felt was a weight on your leg, thigh trapped under the pressure of something breathing and shifting ever so slightly. The covers lying atop your form was nothing close to the softness you were used to, instead the scratchy fabric brushed against your skin and the thin gown you felt as you twitched.

Your muscles ached, both out of stiffness and the strain of what you remember: the buildings collapsing around you, rubble piercing your skin. Your throat felt dry, the lights overhead intruded against your eyelids. The metal sensation from before, cold and icy, trailed along your arms as you woke.

Peeling your gaze open, your spider senses went into overdrive. It feels as if your body had sunken into the pit of an ocean, drowning and heavy with salt water flooding your pores. 

The first to catch your eye was the spider-shaped robotic machinery tending to your wounds, scabbed and bandaged with care. Your fists curled into the bed you rested against; the smell of chemicals embedded within the fabric burned at your nostrils. The luminescence of the lamps on the bedside counter were dimmed low as your gaze adjusted to the sensory intake, breathing deeply in a way to calm yourself.

This place was nothing you’ve ever seen before, but with an abundance of spider-themed gadgetry adorned along the wall and medical systems– alongside the hyper-technologically advanced computer interfaces connected to the tubed legs of the metallic spiders accessing the wounds you had, you assumed it must have been the Spider Society HQ you’ve heard in passing. The building above the greenery beyond Nueva York, a vision you were only able to get glimpses from riding the train.

Holding your breath, you looked at the weight atop your thigh. 

A tuft of combed-back brown curls met your stare before tracing the few strands hanging delicately over his forehead. His eyes were fluttered shut, eyebrows furrowed as if he was having a bad dream. Deep stress lines you desperately wanted to thumb away rested in-between his brow, leading you to the circles under his closed eyes. Deep and prominent against olive skin, O’Hara was now in a slightly modified, upgraded version of his navy blue suit that had none of the previous damage from the battle you stumbled upon.

His head lay against your thighs heavily, breathing in your scent deeply as he dozed off. Every few snores, he’d stutter in his sleep as if he was about to shock himself awake– but he easily settled back in the softness of your muscle after his hand upon your stomach would grab the flesh of your stomach softly. 

You took a moment to study him. There’s been a few times you’ve sighted him in the streets, usually his mask covering his identity always. This is the first time you’ve truly had him so close and the realization of it all made your palms sweat and your stomach churn. The usual quips and your homemade spider-mask could not save you now, you were in the den of a lion’s. He quite literally had you in his grasp.

The knowledge you had of this place was limited, not being a part of the Spider Society because you had to avoid him– and now that everything has been revealed in regards to both of your secrets you had no idea what to do from here. Not like you could do much right now though, your bones feel fragile and your muscles feel weak. How long have you been holed up in this cage?

A groan escaped O’Hara’s lips, a frown contorting his features. Under the spell of sleep, he looked much more soft. The rigidness of his stoicism couldn’t plague his expression as dreams consumed him, but as his frown deepened and the lines between his eyebrows became more prominent,, you couldn’t help but slide your hand underneath his. Squeezing it, his scarred fingers subconsciously intertwined with yours without a moment’s hesitation. 

A smile bloomed onto your lips at the sight, your heart running a marathon at the closeness you were allowed. All the anger festered up from that night ebbed away with time and understanding– having the role as a Spiderperson since the split made you candidly comprehend the stress and dedication one has to have. With the experience, the hardness O’Hara had on himself and others suddenly made sense, and as the confusion cleared– love remained. The man within your reach finally, has always been in the corners of your mind, memories unearthed by every little thing in your life. You may have changed your route to work, but then you started to pass his favorite restaurant. You may have changed your body wash, but the scent of praline underlined the floral smell of ocean breeze.

He was always there, one way or another.

Silence enveloped the room, minus the soft beeping and the slight hiss that escaped you whenever one of the freaky looking medical spiders zapped skin back into place. Yet, as you sat there quietly while looking outside the window, tracing flying cars with your gaze or simply admiring the amount of green you’ve possibly ever seen before– a shaky voice met your rhythmic, soft breathing.

Your name was the first thing he said, disbelief lacing his tone before both his hands scooped up the clutch you held onto him with delicacy, like he was hiding away a treasure in the palm of his hands. “Can’t believe anything any of this–”

“How… how long was I out, O’Hara?” Your voice didn’t sound like your own, fragile and meek. It made you feel pathetic– being able to save so many people in less than two minutes and suddenly you couldn't even bring yourself to speak. Without a word, he reached over to the bedside table to fiddle with a water bottle and a straw. He set the straw to your lips, grabbing your chin to take the straw.

He sighed, tutting like a worried mother hen. “Don’t use your voice so much, cisne. Drink.” It’s been so long since you’ve been waited on hand-and-foot that it almost made you annoyed, but you did what he said because you are bedridden after all. And in a way, it made you feel like he cared. The way O’Hara’s thumb swiped your lower lip when water trickled down your chin was calculated, as if he was trying to embed the feeling into his brain again.

“You had been slipping in-and-out of consciousness over the past week and a half.” He murmured, leaning into your space as your free hand patted on his chest to indicate you had enough water. A soft frown threatened at his lips, worry evident in his gaze.

Coughing from choking down so much water, the question tumbled from your mind without second-thinking. “And how long have you been here?” You felt your cheeks hearten due to the lack of filter, but a part of you really wanted to know.

Your embarrassment transferred to him as soon as the question hung into the hair, his gaze ripping away from your own. His frown wobbled at getting caught within the act, vulnerability showing through for once between the amount of time the two of you have shared. “I’ve..” Having an internal battle with himself, he exhaled with stress in defeat. “Been here since you got here.” Your eyes lit up, and he only groaned at your obvious excitement. 

“You were worried.”

“I was– I was not worried– dios mío–”

You sat up further on the pillows behind you, pointing into his chest as he leaned further away in lighthearted mortification of finally having to talk about his feelings. “O’Hara! You were! You were worried!”

“If I admit it will you stop repeating yourself–”

“Yes,”

O’Hara’s brow furrowed as if he was in physical pain, leaning back into the chair he sat right beside your bed. His hands still stuck firming around your sweating ones, his head leaned back in exasperation. “I was worried. I am always worried about you. I was scared shitless sitting there on that ledge while you dived into the unknown.”

Breath stuttering, you held the air within your lungs for a long second. It felt like a dream, having the Miguel O’Hara hunched over with his hands around your own like a delicate doll, flushed and embarrassed because he finally has to admit his feelings. The urge to kiss him overwhelmed you, and if you had the strength to lean forward and do so, you would. But exhaustion was dwelled deep into your limbs, and you didn’t want to overexert yourself.

“And, and– stop calling me that. Jesus, it’s like hearing a teacher addressing me.”

This caught your attention as his scarlet eyes met yours, swirling with a flurry of emotions that screamed of intensity. “Calling you what?” You asked, trying to sound indifferent when truly you were just teasing him. But he was more than observant– and when he caught you trying to play him like you were a guitarist and he was your bass. This only riled him up more.

“O’Hara?! I’m Miguel to you, Miguel.” His hands tightened around your own as he repeated his name twice, almost like a plea. “Stop making me act like a child, I have a reputation to uphold–”

“You became O’Hara the day you broke up with me.” Low blow, and quite petty– but you wanted to test if he truly had changed.

The rant you cut off halted without another word, O’Hara’s forehead meeting your thigh as if you just slapped him atop the head when you knocked sense into him. “I didn’t know what else to do.” His voice choked up almost instantaneously, his emotions as high as ever like he just processed you were truly here and talking to him. “And look at where we ended up.” The latter didn’t sound like he was speaking to you, more like he was stuck in his head someplace far away. “Your safety was what mattered the most to me– and back then these people, these people threatened to remove you from here. Wipe you off the plane of this universe like you never even happened.”

You were silent as his hands kneaded into your thighs gently, fingertips trailing up your stomach like he was trying to remember every part of your body again unconsciously. “I didn’t want to lose you, and for the longest time I pushed it away as much as I could until I couldn’t anymore.”

Your brain clicked and churred, gears rolling back in place in your post-coma fog. “.. Is that why you were so stressed, so different throughout the end of our relationship?”

Miguel sighed heavily, tears threatening to fall as if an entire world was lifted off his shoulders. “.. Yes. Yes, I’m not proud of it. I’m really not proud of myself.” He repeated, confessing his sins like you were the pastor and he was a sinner. “I just was terrified for you to be gone.”

“.. I’m tired of having so much loss in my life.” It was barely above a whisper, but you heard it.

His shoulders raised, stammering as if he was holding himself back. Without a word, you shrugged your hand from his own. Scarlet gaze meeting yours in surprise, fangs on display unknowingly as his mouth slacked– your arms raised towards him and instantly he allowed himself to melt into your embrace.

“I didn’t know.” Was all you said.

“I didn’t want you to know,” He murmured against your cheek, breath fanning your ear and arms meeting your back strongly. Just like your dreams. Miguel’s words trailed off anxiously, before concluding with something you haven’t heard in a long time, “mi cielo.”

Tears soaked your shoulder sleeve, but you didn’t care. “But I want you to know everything now. I want you to be a part of my life now, we can get through it all–”

A small frown met your lips, heart clenching at his words. “I, I can’t– 

“Mi pajarito, please,” Miguel breathed in deeply, “I really, really have missed you.” His hold surrounding you tightened subtly. The buzz of floating cars whizzed by as silence enveloped the both of you, the noise of watches sounding throughout the hallway kept you grounded. Drilled it into your head that this was truly happening, that you’re here with Miguel with both of your secrets unveiled. Under each other's protection. 

“Miguel, I.. I can’t be hurt again.” You wanted him, wanted him more than anything. But something snatched your heart up and forced it into an aviary. It raged against the railings of its captor, fluttering with desperation. You were scared of rejection again, the repressed emotions flooding your senses and making you sob. Miguel held you as you cried and continued to do so, tracing shapes into your skin like all those months ago. “Please don’t leave me again.”

The plea escaped you through tears, Miguel promised and promised and promised as he swiped away the wetness amongst your cheeks, his cold exterior he kept affront during your relationship crashed down in waves as his own tears pressed into your skin. “I’m so sorry. Please, please like you gave me– give me a second chance.”

His fingers trailed up, grasping the nape of your neck while the other caressed your cheek with a shakiness you’ve never seen before. Always so confident, it reminded you of the brokenness you witnessed on the last night you were together. But this felt genuine, the looming fear and despair hanging over his head all those months ago were fanned away with time. This was Miguel’s honest attempt at vulnerability.

You stared into his tearful eyes, a smile playing at your lips as your hands sat upon his own holding your face. Leaning in, your nose brushed his as your eyes fluttered shut. Your lips, chapped and cold, met his contrasting warm and refined touch. Miguel presumably did not care, as his fingers intertwined with your hair and grasped your chin with a sparked need. The kiss was short and sweet, as the two of you breathed into each other’s mouth. Relishing in the moment, you pushed forward again as desperation seeped into your rationality.

Your hands moved from his own to his shoulders, pulling him deeper into the kiss and he just consumed whatever space you gave him. Miguel was aware of every muscle he pushed against you, but as the both of you clawed into each other’s flesh Miguel’s resolve to stay gentle ebbed away as his spit swapped with yours. It was if you were a struggling flower, and he was both the air and sun and water combined. He was everything you needed, and he was everything you wanted. To you, he was the sun and you were the moon– seeing one another in passing but never touching until today. 

But to him, you were the stars that littered the sky. A comet passing by, beautiful and alluring. You were in each neon sign of Nueva York, where he stared a little too hard and could see a figure of you that was constructed from the little imagination he had left. 

He saw you in the headquarters he overworked himself in to forget you. He saw you in the shadows of the city he protected. Miguel saw you in everything he believed in, yet everything he went against simultaneously. 

But he’ll learn to make exceptions with himself and the rules he place, because as his fangs dig into your lower lip and the noise that erupts from your throat wraps him around your finger– Miguel tries to understand how he ever let you go.

“Miguel, you kiss me once and you’re already trying to bite me–” You begin to scold in your little way, until Miguel shushes you with another kiss to the lips.

“It’s all out of love, cariño.”

[pythoria]

feeling some feelings about gale tonight *cracks knuckles*; he was a child prodigy, he was in tune with the weave, and inevitably mystra, since he was just a little kid. imagine being so in tune with magic, feeling so comfortable and safe within its bounds, falling in love with something so beautiful as a child. it becomes your whole world. imagine being filled with such childish idealism, such hope, that your only desire becomes getting closer to this thing, this goddess, finding that love and safety and giving it form.

imagine growing up, finally getting the attention of your goddess, how starry eyed you must be, how proud of yourself. this is your whole world, the reason you're alive, your purpose in life. mystra is everything to you, the magic in your veins, the giddy feeling in your heart, the proud ego in your chest. and then she finally *sees* you for the first time, you end up sharing her bed, touching her, talking to her, earning her approval, and, you think, her love. magic is your job, your lover, the motherly embrace of childhood. of course you would try to ascend to be with mystra forever. of course you would want power, so she sees you as an equal. of course you want to impress her, she's all you've ever known.

and then when you fail, when a ticking bomb gets stuck in your chest, you get none of that love and care. she doesn't protect you, she doesn't even talk to you anymore. so you've lost everything you've ever held dear in one fell swoop, the basket you put all your eggs in shattered, and you're left with nothing. you're now a middle aged man, your whole life spent in service of your goddess, who abandoned you at the first sign of free will you've shown. you feel like a failure. you don't have any friends, nor lovers, and you fall from being an archmage to nearly becoming an ilithid thrall. and maybe you realise that were it not for the astral prism, you'd have become a mindflayer and mystra wouldn't have saved you.

maybe you realise she's completely written you off when elminster shows up and tells you she wants you to sacrifice yourself. maybe you think "is this what my life's work is worth? a lifetime of devotion? a second hand missive asking me to die?". but no matter how ridiculous the request, you're in too deep now. nobody would care if you died, mystra made sure you were always focused on her, never making meaningful connnections with other mortals, having no friends, foes, or lovers. if mystra forsakes you, you might as well not exist. so death to serve her might be the best ending you could've hoped for, really.

except along comes someone, and they also have a worm in their head, and you team up, and soon enough there's a bunch of you strutting around faerun, and suddenly someone *cares*. for the first time in years, you actually have... friends? and they're telling you mystra is insane, that you've been manipulated, they tell you that what mystra is asking is too much, that they want you to live. and you're defensive, of course. you still love mystra, and you can't get away from her either, because you feel her presence every time you cast as much as a firebolt, magic running through your veins like ambrosia, nectar and poison all at once. you conjure her face to gaze at, and when you start falling for tav, you show them the weave, because that's the only way you know how to love. eventually you accept that you might have to defy mystra to stay alive and suddenly you have a choice again. but in the process, everything you knew and loved turned to dust, and you had to build yourself back up from the ashes, all while smiling and laughing and trying fruitlessly to fit in with your companions, who find you stuck up and weird after so much isolation.

gale is such a tragic character, if you think about it.

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟐𝟕

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 (𝟏)

↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐯𝐬𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟐𝐤 (not proofread!)

↬ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎.

"Is this your first time on a private jet? You seem so nervous."

Jongseong says playfully, his eyes roaming your pretty face as he allows himself to take in your side profile and every little detail of it.

You've been staring out of the little window for the past five linutes, nervously fidgeting with your jewelry and desperately trying to find a comfortable position in your large seat.

And despite the fact that Jay's more than just aware of your current emotional state, he can't get over how good you look in his private jet. It's like he chose it to fit you and your visuals all those years ago and for a moment he actually loses himself in the mental image of flying you around the world.

But, just as usual, all those thoughts and fantasies will remain nothing but illusions. Considering the fact the CEO's been trying his best to come up with a way to tell you about what he's been up to these past few days, Jay's had no choice but to accept every single one of your possible reactions. The ones where you don't hate his guts and actually stay by his side are his least favorite, simply because they give him false hope and his heart can't take any more of that.

Jay's very much aware, why his actions are morally wrong and even if he doesn't actually regret them, he wholeheartedly understands why you'd eventually react the way you probably will.

But regardless ofyour reaction, Jay always stands true to his words, so no matter what, he'll make sure to fight for you until the day you devote your whole life to someone else and even after that, he'll forever hold you close to the most sacred parts of his heart.

The longer he looks at you, the more he loses himself in the sweet embrace of your presence and the mere thought of having to let go of you hurst his soul but at the end of the day it's nobody's but his own responsibility to take.

As you turn to look at him with those pretty eyes of yours, Jay feels himself ringing with his own conscience as the urge to keep you safe and protected from the things he's been dealing with overwhelms him but he knows he has to tell you.

"I've actually never been on a plane before", you reply and chuckle nervously, your words surprising your boss and for a moment you feel slightly ashamed, only for all those worries to disappear as soon as Jay's lips stretch into a gentle smile.

"It's overrated, really", he says and from the honest expression in his eyes you know he's serious, "it might be a little scary at first but once we're in the air it's quite nice."

"Thank you for the reassurance, Sir", you sigh and finally feel your body relax, yet there's still this little bit of tension lingering in your muscles.

"Do you want me to sit next to you? Maybe that'll make you feel a little less anxious", Jongseong hesitates a little with his offer, just because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.

He knows you're basically dating Kim Jiwoong at this point, his friends have made sure to let him know about every single picture you've posted in relation to him and Hao's been quite enthusiastic about the two of you and even if he hates your boyfriend's guts, he'd never want you to think he doesn't respect you and your relationship.

On top of it all, to you, he's still just your boss, no matter how much he wants to change that, he'll have to accept it for now.

"Unless you don't feel comfortable then–", "Yes, please, Sir", you suddenly blurt out and look at him with big, glossy eyes and for a moment the whole world comes to a stop.

Jay has bever seen eyes as pretty as yours and with every passing minute of your little plea echoing in his head, he feels like he's going absolutely crazy.

Without another word, Jongseong casually gets up just to plop into the big seat right next to yours, a big smile on his lips as he finds comfort in the thought of you associating him with safety and protection.

That's all he wants. To protect you and keep you safe, to heal your wounds and take care of you the way you deserve it. There's this urge in the depth of his chest which becomes more and more unbearable as time passes.

You have absolutely no idea what's going on in your boss's head as your gaze shifts to meet his, yet the way his eyes are filled with nothing but adoration and gentleness has your heart skipping a beat.

This can't happen.

Not when you've actually started accepting the way things are between the tweo of you.

Not when you've finally come to the point where admiring and adoring him from afar has imprinted itself onto your brain.

Not when you've barely stopped yourself from falling in love with him.

You're quick to avert your gaze again, too scared of possible consequences it might come with and as you turn away from him, you miss the wave of disappointment washing over his features.

But it's okay. Jay know you're not quite there yet. He knows you need time even if he's currently running out of just that.

With a soft sigh, you watch the pretty stewardess politely greeting the two of you before she offers you something to drink and then proceedss to fo through the security checks with you.

You're not even necessarily scared about flying, but the general concept of something so big and heavy flying in the air with absolutely no problems sends shivers down your spine.

As the engine of the plane starts, you feel all the colour disappearing from your face, your hands tightening their grip on the seat as you try to prepare yourself for what's to happen.

You have no idea what to expect, yet the last thing your mind would have ever come up with is the suddenly feeling of Park Jongseong's big hand gently pulling yours away before intertwining your fingers with his own.

With your brows raised in surprise, your head basically shoots into his direction and all of a sudden, this very familiar feeling of being absolutely safe and protected overwhelms you.

"Tell me about the boys from your block", he suddenly says and smiles at you encouragingly, "it'll distract you and if it gets too much, just squeeze my hand, okay? Can you do that for me?"

For some reason, the softness of his usually so stern voice sends a jolt of hot arousal into the lower regions of your body and if it wasn't for the anxiety crippling up in your bones, you would have pressed your thighs together to just get rid of that awful tension in your cunt.

"Yes, Sir", you whisper and subconsciously mimic the way Jay's deeply inhaling and exhaling, his action essily calming your strained nerves and before you can give it another thought, you find yourself rambling about those few boys you've come to love and appreciate in the past three years.

You tell him about Doyeon and Seyeon, two brothers whose parents have abandoned them after their seperation, who have basically worked extra hard for everything they've achieved in all these years of being alone.

Of course you don't forget about Woohan, the young boy who has amde it his mission to interrogate every single guy who comes to pick up his favorite noona, just to make sure she doesn't get her heart broken again.

A little hesitant yet still enthusiastic do you start talking about the three oldest boys who have actually gotten into several physical fights with your ex boyfriend when he refused to accept your decisions and still showed up at your doorstep.

Jay never once looks away from your face, he takes in everything you say and saves it in the back of his mind as he can't help but adore you even more for the devotion and love you have for those kids.

By the time you start rambling about the other kids, the stewardess suddenly comes back and lets you know that taking off your seatbelts is okay now and with your brows furrowed in confusion you look at your boss, who's still firmly holding your hand.

"We're in the air now", he chuckles and gently caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, "you did so good for me. I'm proud of you."

His words hit you like a tonne of bricks, right in the stomach.

It takes you a whole minute to regain your composure because you've never been praised before. There's not an ounce of faux sympathy behind his words, every single one of them is honest and genuine.

He's actually proud of you.

"T-Thank you so much, Sir", your voice is a mere whisper and for a moment you actually contemplate whether or not to just crawl onto his lap and stay like that for the rest of your life.

You just know his hugs feel like the comfort of a home you've never had.

"You know you can call me Jay or Jongie, whatever you feel more comfortable with", he suddenly says and gently pulls his hand away from yours, not ready to push his luck, "but I don't mind the Sir either. Please, just know you're one of the few people who can call me whatever they want."

Yeah, at this point Jay's definitely not referring to his own name anymore.

You might think it's about all the formalities, when in reality there's a very specific yet oh so forbidden title flying around in his head and since your very first day, Jong's been daydreaming about hearing you call him just that.

Yet another fantasy he'll have to keep hidden in his heart and his mind forever.

"I know", you sigh and push your lips into a pout, "I just respect you a lot and it feels weird calling you by your name. I promise I'm trying my best!"

You chuckle softly and play woth the hem of your skirt, not realising just how much Jay is currently enjoying the close proximity of the two of you.

"I know you are, Y/N. You always do", he replies calmly and the longer he looks at you, the more his heart breaks as he thinks about how this might be one of your last conversations.

He's definitely going to miss your voice. But also the enthusiasm in everything you say as well as your precious smile.

"Have you looked at the menu yet? I know you were too nervous to have breakfast so don't hesitate to choose multiple dishes", Jongseong says and leans back in his seat, throwing his head back to calm his racing, aching heart only for the pain to get even worse.

The following hour is filled with random conversations about your mutual friends as well as both of you checking E-Mails, responding to a few and setting up a schedule for the next week. Jongseong actually manages to keep you busy enough to the point where the landing basically rushes past you.

Neither one of you gets the time to settle into the apartment first as you barely make it on time to your first meeting of the day due to traffic.

Once the third and last meeting of the day rolls around you're utterly exhausted. You've been the one to set up and organize his schedule for the past four months and despite recently starting to follow him around as his personal assistant, you would have never expected it to be even more exhausting and stressful than the ones in Seoul.

The thought of Jay working so hard all the time breaks your heart because from Yeonie's as well as Sunghoon's stories you can tell he barely has time for himself.

And as you find yourself in the backseat of the company car right next to him, you can't help but let the urge to take care of him and take some off the pressure and weight off his shoulders take over you.

Not even in a sexual manner but rather being there for him, showering him in affection and words of affirmation, giving him the energy and attention he deserves and just being his personified comfort.

Unfortunately those thoughts will forever remain nothing but part of your daydreams.

Once the two of you make it to his apartment, you feel the exhaustion of your twelve hour day finally get the best of you and all you can think about is taking a nice shower and them jumping into a bed which probably costs more than your monthly rent.

Jay casually greets the people in the lobby with a stern smile, his phone pressed against his ear as he waits for his mother to pick up and for some reason you can't help but feel slightly envious.

You wish you had a parent to call at the end of a day like this and the more you listen to the heartwarming conversation between your boss's and his mum, you feel this very familiar heaviness pn your chest returning to its place.

"This is your room", Jay suddenly whispers as soon as you pass one of the two bedrooms at the right end of the big hallway and with a grateful nod you thank the portier for his help and push your suitcase into your assigned bedroom.

You'd lie if you said watching Jongseong open the door to the room right across from yours didn't surprise you but for some reason you're not nearly as uncomfortable as you initially thought you'd be.

Knowing yourself the exhaustion and tiredness of today is gping to be enough to keep those stupid nightmares away and hopefully give you a full night's sleep.

After inspecting the room as well as the bathroom, which easily leaves you stunned with their sheer size, you're just about to take off your sweater when the sudden but gentle knock on your door startles you.

"I know you just want to rest but there's something I need to talk to you about", Jongseong says through the door and maybe it's the tone in his voice or maybe the choice of words but regardless of the reason, it triggers your anxiety and within a single second your heart starts thrumming in your throat.

You make your way to the door, yet can't even get yourself to focus as you try to think of possible reasons why Jongseong might be upset with you. You start going through every single meeting, every sentence, every single word you've uttered the past few hours just to realise that this was by far one of your best days on the job and that might be exactly why you're even more nervous.

While you're desperately trying to read his tone, Jongseong's about to throw up from the anxiety and pain boiling in his blood.

He's never felt like this before.

Everything he's done in his life he stood behind. Every decision, every action, every sentence, every word. So why is it that he'd rather set himself on fire than owning up to his actions and dealing with the consequences this time?

Maybe because this time he actually has someghing – someone to lose.

Maybe because this time he's going to be the reason for your pain and your tears.

Maybe because this time he's going to turn into his biggest nightmare.

But no matter what, he has to tell you about this. If he really wants you to know how much he cares about you and your well being, there's absolutely no going back from this.

Yes, he did what needed to be done all while being fully aware of your possible and understandable reaction, but none of that makes this any easier.

As soon as you swing open the door, Jay lets his eyes roam your face; the fesr and nervousness in your besutiful, soft features make his heart drop into his stomach and with a soft sigh he accepts his defeat.

"Don't be nervous, you haven't done anything wrong. You did excellent today." The words of reassurance leave his lips before his brain can overthink them and Jay actually hates himself for giving you yet another glimmer of hope just to shatter it all with his confession.

"Okay", you finally let out the breath you didn't realise you were holding in, "come in, please."

Jongseong watches the way you lead the way to the little couch on the other side of the room, patting the empty seat next to you with the sweetest smile on your lips and for a moment he actually considers keeping this little secret to himself just a little longer.

He can tell how much you're struggling to read his body language and he's unapologetically glad about it. He doesn't want you to see how miserable and pathetic he feels.

"Do you remember what happened the night of Sunghoon' birthday, Y/N?"

That's good. A question to start the conversation and see just how much you remember might make leading it into the right direction a little easier.

Might.

"Not really", you reply shyly, a little embarrassed yet aware that Jay would never judge you. Call it a gut feeling.

You carefully watcv your boss shift in his seat, he's already gotten rid of his jacket and the vest, leaving him in a simple white dress shirt and the fact he's rolled up his sleeves does not help your chaotic mind at all.

Why did he have to be so fucking attractive anyway?

"You were quite drunk, so I thought it'd be best if I brought you home so I did. Dohyun helped me bring you inside and once I lay you onto the couch, I thought you had fallen asleep but you had actually started crying."

Jongseong tries to stay as neutral about it as possible, simply because he doesn't want you to feel embarrassed or ashamed but from the way you suddenly hide your face behind your hands, he obviously didn't do a great job at that.

"No, stop", he quickly says and reaches for your wrists before wrapping his own around your hands and pulling them into his lap, "it's okay, really."

"I feel so ashamed", you whisper and feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, "I'm so sorry, Sir."

"Don't. Tears aren't something to be ashamed of", Jong's rather fast to stop you from overthinking his words, something he's been doing a lot more than you had realised these past few weeks.

"What I'm about to say isn't about the fact you cried, it's the reason for your tears", he explains and for the first time since the two of you had met, Jay actually looks away first as the shame now gets the best of him.

"Oh", you say and attentively let your eyes roam his side profile, the pretty little birthmark on his neck catching your attention the way it always does and beforr you can kose yourself in thoughts of kissing it, you pull yourself back into reality.

"You kept talking about your brother and how the things he's said are true", Jay finally manages to say, the words heavy on his tongue, the anger and wrath for your family even heavier on his chest, "and I really need you to listen to me first before making any decisions, okay? Please, Y/N, hear me out first and then you can hate me as much as you want."

"W-What? Why would I hate you, Jay?"

Your voice is small and fearful. His words and the lack of eye contact genuinely scare you because if you didn't know what to expect when he knocked on your door a few minutes ago, you're even more clueless now.

How could your mental breakdown about your brother's behavior possibly lead to a reaction like this from him?

"Because I – fuck – I did something I'm not proud of. I take full responsibility and accountability for my decisions and don't regret any of them because I know I did it all for you. To protect you, to keep you safe."

In response to those words your heart slams into the bottom of your stomach and you subconsciously dig your nails into his skin, yet not letting go of his hands as you crave his presence now more than ever.

"J-Jay, what are you talking about?"

The confusion and fear of what's to hit you breaks his heart into thousands of pieces but he knows he has to do this.

He has to.

He can't build anything on lies. He's not his father. He has to keep it absolutely real and honest with you or he'd be nothing but a cheap copy of the man he's despised all his life.

"I care about you a lot more than you think, Y/N", he whispers and for the first time in months, he feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, his heart breaking agonisingly slowly for the tenth time within just a few minutes, "and not just in a boss-employee kind of way."

If it wasn't for the feeling of his warm skin against yours and his beautiful face so close up to yours, you would have actually believed this current situation to be a dream.

How the fuck did you go from being exhausted and tired to adrenaline pumping through your veins because your boss, the one who's not only rejected you before but whom you've been trying to forget about for weeks, is basically confessing to you right then, right there.

But for some reason you can't let yourself indulge in the relief and happiness filling the tiniest bits of your heart; the air too heavy and intense.

"Jay, I don't understand what's going on", you whisper and finally allow the tears to find their way down your cheeks, "you rejected me."

"I know, Baby, I fucking know", Jay suddenly hisses through gritted teeth, his anger belonging to nobody but himself for making you go through this when he could have been more mature about this literally three weeks ago, "but I only did it because I thought it's the best for the both of us."

"You broke my heart", you breathe and move to pull your hands away from his grip, only for him to scoot closer with them still in his own, "I thought you didn't want me because I'm not enough."

"W-What?"

Jongseong never knew a single human bei g could experience this much pain from just a few words but your honest confession has shown him a whole new level of torture.

"I thought I was–", you bite back a soft sob, barely able to hold it together as the memories from that night start flooding back into your head, "not pretty enough. Not hardworking enough. Not good enough. I thought you rejected me because I'm not a girl like – Shiah or Miyeon."

Hearing those names from you actually makes his broken heart skip a few beats and i that exact moment Jay decides to devote his whole life to make sure thoughts or doubts like that never, ever cross your precious mind again.

"Oh, angel girl", Jong sighs and wraps his fingers around your arm, gently pulling you closer to his body snd before he can even initate it, you find yourself straddling his lap.

Everything you've been holding back these past few weeks, all those bad thoughts and doubts, emotions and words are finally getting the best of you and as you bury your face in the crook of Jay's neck, you feel the burden finally being lifted from your shoulders. And your chest.

"I've never, ever seen a woman like you, Baby", Jay whispers into your ear, one of his big hands gently caressing your back as the other massages your scalp and for a moment everything about your current position feels like a dream.

You've only given him your hand once, on your first day. And yet here you are, comfortably seated in his lap.

And nothing has ever felt as good and right as this.

"Yes, you're not like them and that's exactly what's driving me crazy about you. Please, forgive me for ever putting those doubts into that precious brain of yours."

And just as usual, you can't find it in you to doubt his words and the meaning behind them. Jongseong doesn't lie and you know this.

"Look at me, Baby", Jongseong breathes softly, his heart hammering against his chest as his body finally processes the fact that you're actually sitting on his lap, "come on, I wanna look at your perfect face."

You hesitate a little, too aware of your tears and too overwhelmed by his confession.

Your body isn't playing along and your brain's a complete mess. All you want to do is fall asleep exactly like this, yet you also can't get yourself to deny his gentle request.

"There you go, that's my good girl", Jay gulps harshly as the words leave his lips, he knows he's overdoing it but he doesn't scold himsemf for it as he knows this won't last and he has no choice but to make the best of it.

"My pretty girl", a soft sigh hits your face and you finally allowe yourself to mimic him as you lift your hands to take his perfectly sculptured face into your palms, "I'm so sorry I'm making you go through this. I did something unforgivable."

"N-No", you say quickly and shake your head, too captivated by just how much pretuerwhe is this close up, "it's okay. We can work through this if you still if want to."

You pause a little before looking back up into his eyes again.

"If you still want me."

The way Jong starts nodding his head almost hysterically startles you, but doesn't fail to ease thw heaviness on your heart at the same time.

"I want you so bad, Baby", Jay gulps again, thsi time barely swallowing his tears, "but I know you won't want me once you know what I've done."

Yet again, a wave of confusion hits you.

"I thought you meant the rejection", you say and look at him with a blurry vision, "what else – have you done?"

A beat of silence fills the room. The tension is thicker, heavier, stronger than ever and for the nth time within just a few hours Jay feels the urge to simply run away and never look back. But how could he ever leave you, his precious girl, behind?

"After you cried in my arms about the things your brother has been telling you about, Sunghoon told me you don't have any contact to anyone in your family so I've had someone look into your family because I wanted to know what you've had to deal with."

And in that particular moment, you can actually hear the shattering of your heart before the sharp pain rushes through your veins.

You feel yourself freezing in the midst of your touch, tears simply running down your cheeks as the feeling of betrayal overwhelms you.

Yet, different than you would have expected from yourself, you actually manage to mutter the first question that pops up in your completely empty brain.

"W-Why?"

"Because", but the words stay stuck in his throat as a veil of tears blurr his vision at the realisation that he's actually lost you now.

"Answer me, Jongseong", you say, your voice still as small as ever, your heart too broken for your body to raise it's volume and all of a sudden the feeling of sheer mental and emotional exhaustion finds its way back into your veins.

"Because I wanted to hurt them."

And there it is. Nothing but the actual truth.

Something he's yet to admit to himself because even if your safety and protection are and will forever remain his number one priority, the urge to revenge your pain has made itself comfortable rathee high up that list.

"What?"

This time, that tiny word holds actual confusion.

What does he mean? What is that supposed to mean? Why would he, someone who doesn't even know your brother's name, hurt him? All because you cried because of him?

"They hurt my Baby and I wanted to hurt them back. Every single one of them. Every single one of your brothers. I wanted to destroy their lives and have them regret the way they treated you for the rest of it. I wanted to take revenge for you, Baby", the last word is nothing but a whisper.

"But – wait – you know what they've done to me? What they've put me through? How – did you have someone hack into my phone? Be fucking honest with me, Park Jongseong."

All this time Jong's been craving to hear his name from your lips but now he actually despises it. All this anger and disappointment in your voice makes him hate his own name and everything it stands for.

Yet, just as he's told himself, there's now backing out of this.

It's the truth and nothing but the truth from now on.

"No", he says quickly, and looks at you with teary eyes, "I had him look into your family only. Their financial, medical and criminal records, no chats or phones and any other devices."

"Wow", you breathe and pull away from him yet for some strange reason you don't feel the need to get off of his lap.

No matter how hurt you are, you're not quite ready to let go of this feeling just yet.

"I'm sorry", Jay finally apologizes, "I know I should have just asked you but after hearing you cry so much and talking about yourself like that I just couldn't help it. You're – just the thought of people hurting you has my blood boiling."

"You just hurt me", you say and hate how your bottom lip suddenly starts shaking as another row of tears find their way to freedom, "I just – feel so betrayed, Jongie."

His name is drowned in one of your soft sobs but to his surprise, you don't pull away even further but rather bury your face back into his neck.

Maybe he hasn't lost you after all.

"I know, angel girl", he sighs and allows his own tears to stream down his temples as he throws his head back and pulls your closer against his strong chest, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"S-Sorry isn't enough."

A few moments filled with nothing but the sound of your sobs fill the silent space of the room, each one slashing a knife through his heart and pushing him even deeper into the pain of hurting you, his most precious treasure.

Telling you how he feels wasn't supposed to be like this.

Jong loses track of time as he tries his best to calm you down and by the time your cries finally die down, he notices the steady movement of your upper body and the lack of motion in your limbs.

You cried yourself to sleep.

In his arms.

Because of him.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: the promised cliffhanger BUT dont worry, next chap's written too so i'll give y'all exactly what asked for 🫣 thank you so much for all the love babies, you're truly the best! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!🩷🧸)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @xrr-s4sha @kwiwin @heelcvr @deobitifull @kpoprhia @doodlelibrary @abrazosolorcereza @certifiedmoa @sleeping-demons @heerinnie @ohmy-moonlightx @heeswif3y @hoonieluv @fakeuwus @jjaeyuns @cheybabey @ineedsomezzz @super-amberlynn @kshoshi @tinie03 @soiimo @mimikittysblog @primroselover @heebrry @jebetwo @donghyckl @07myonlylove @enhamysunshines @quemirasboboandapaya @lostwonderwall @seuomo @enhaz1 @teawithbucky @beomgyusonlywife @dammit-jjk @lhsvibez @azurez @boutyouwonu @finchyyy @ocyeanicc @jaylaxies @glitterssim @in-somnias-world @zerasari @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @capri-cuntz @fluerz @3amstarlight

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ OVERDRIVE (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!reader

summary: a practical stranger is determined to change your opinion on cars (and maybe make you fall in love in the process)

word count: 2k

content warnings: brief mentions of alcohol, brief make out, 110% irresponsible driving (don’t take ur eyes off the road kids)

“you’re right next to me, feel the heat, going overdrive” — conan gray, overdrive

cars were never something you understood.

your friends growing up had always had a weird fixation whenever they saw specific models racing down the streets where you lived, stopping to ogle and obsess as they used key words that were entirely lost on you. when you expressed your disinterest and lack of care over a model’s ‘horse power’, you were met with groans of disappointment and a quick change of subject.

perhaps that was why those particular friendships never lasted out of teenhood. they became stagnant over the years when you found new interests and connections that led you elsewhere.

somewhere in the back of your mind, despite time making those old acquaintances nothing more than a distant memory, you wondered what they’d say if they could see you now.

so it stood true that you never understood cars, but you certainly had an affinity for pretty men driving them. and lando norris definitely fit into that category.

sat in the passenger seat of a mclaren model you had entirely missed the name of, you gained a new outlook on what made such cars so good. granted it had nothing to do with the technicalities of the car, and more the way the wind whipped through your hair as lando guided the two of you through the streets of monaco. it was dark by now, but the city still shone bright with the lights from the buildings that towered over you — casinos and restaurants much like the ones you found the driver in to begin with.

you barely spared lando a glance, too afraid to lose focus on the road ahead of you. if you were to spend too long admiring the man you might never be able to look away. he had a certain transfixing aura around him you couldn’t quite explain from just the short time you had known him.

the city whizzed by as lando made green light after green light, turning onto less clustered roads where he could finally show the full potential of the car he was clearly so fond of.

“you look like you’re enjoying yourself no matter how much you’re pretending not to.” lando commented, and for the first time since accepting his offer of a drive home, you turned to face him. he was already looking at you, paying no attention to the roads despite the danger such an action possessed, and you couldn’t help the blush the attention brought to your cheeks. “let yourself have fun. stop trying to hate it so much.”

laughing, you shook your head, amazed at how a man who was nothing more than a stranger to you less than three hours ago already had such a good read on you. you’d have plenty to tell your friends who you had met at the casino in the morning it would seem.

“i’ve got a reputation to withhold here.” you admitted, enjoying the way he laughed as he looked back towards the road that grew quieter with every passing metre.

“not a car person?” lando observed.

“not at all.” you admitted, shaking your head fondly as you recalled those times you disappointed your friends. “i don’t think i’ve ever quite understood the fascination behind it.”

lando hummed, going quiet momentarily. he made an action similar to that of checking a watch, seeming to think over a grand idea. “you don’t have anywhere to be, right?”

it was already long gone two in the morning, he knew as well as you did the answer to that. “besides my bed, nope.” popping the ‘p’, you looked back towards the man driving.

“then let me show you what you’re missing.”

you underestimated to what extent his determination reached until his foot was on the pedal, and the slick car was rushing away from the city with nothing more than a light humming sound. your laughter mixed in with the whisp of the wind as suddenly you shot off into the night with a man who was barely more than a pretty stranger.

lando seemed to enjoy the sound, one hand slipping to the bottom of the wheel so he could rest on the door of his car whilst he eased his way through the roads. he navigated with such an ease you were sure he had done this route many a time before, slowing just enough when he reached cameras as to not be caught, but keeping the experience all the same.

“you’re insane!” you laughed as he skidded the car around a perfectly timed corner, knowing your mother would be crying in fear if she saw how reckless you were being.

“admit you’re enjoying yourself!” lando prompted, still finding time to look over at you once more throughout the journey.

grinning through your lies, you refuted “you’ll have to do more than that to impress me.”

“oh come on!” he whined, no malice or despair in his voice, but a glint in his eye that told he was more than prepared to take the challenge, “you’re a hard crowd to please.”

with that, he shifted the gear once more, finding a corner at which he unexpectedly spun back around on, bringing you back onto a straight towards the city that gave him plenty of opportunity to show off.

“you’re going to kill me!” you squealed, clinging on to the door for dear life as you giggled over the wind once more.

lando barely missed a beat before he shifted speeds once again, offering a playful “i’ll make sure they say you died enjoying yourself in the obituary.”

as you swung another corner, you let the motion pull you back towards the centre of the car, the electricity between the two of you becoming more prominent than ever. lando noticed it too, swapping the hand which held the wheel as his right one found its way to your left. you looked at the contact, unsure for just a moment, until he lifted your arms above your head, letting the recklessness wash over you until it shifted into exhilaration. you couldn’t help but lift your other arm to enjoy it, till you were practically shouting with adrenaline field joy into the night.

the fear of the speed was outweighed by the thrill, and you closed your eyes for a beat, enjoying the simple sensation of wind in your hair and lando’s hand in yours.

when you began to emerge into those more populated areas once more, the sight of red lights up ahead, lando spun once again, masterfully avoiding any disturbance with a practiced ease. the motion threw you further to the side, and this time, the squeal that left your mouth was entirely involuntary. you whipped your hands down from the air, this time choosing to find purchase on lando’s bicep as you steadied yourself.

lando chuckled lowly, making no quick decision to move away. instead, his hand that previously held yours found it’s way to rest on your thigh, holding you in place against the centre console and his shoulder. his comfort made you bolder, so even when you had steadied yourself, the grip you had on his arm only faltered enough to provide him momentarily relief, staying close to his side with your hands still linked now at his elbow.

“if you crash, i’ll kill you.” you joked, lando whipping his head around to face you with a smooth wink in your direction.

“you underestimate my skill, baby.”

the way your heart fluttered at the pet name made you briefly consider your own insanity. speeding down unpopulated streets with a stranger, with no care for what may happen. selfishly, you only wanted to bask in the feeling of his hand on the scarcely clothed skin of your thigh, and the look on his face whenever he met your eye.

you spared a glance towards his lips, pulled taut into a smile as he showed off for you. there was something about his confidence that only added to the compellement you felt towards him.

before you could readjust your attention, his eyes flickered back towards you, and the sharp decrease in speed told he had caught where you were looking. you may have pulled back in embarrassment had the grip he had on your thigh not tightened in response.

the temptation to apologise was quelled just as fast when he brought the car to a less extreme speed, able to spend longer fixating on you without the imminent threat of crashing if he lacked too much focus.

“i’m gonna need you to stop looking at me like that.” he practically growled. “otherwise i’ll do something stupid.”

you considered for a moment, debating just how reckless you would allow yourself to be tonight before the words left your lips involuntarily. “nothing’s stopping you.”

it was as though something shifted in the man, his hand finally leaving your thigh just long enough to bring the car to a halt in a convenient lay-by. and before you even had the chance to react to the standstill, he was pushing back over the centre console and connecting his lips with yours.

his hands found the back of your neck with a terrifyingly practiced ease. one your own gripped onto his forearm, your other finding it’s way between his curls and giving a sharp tug that had him gasping into your mouth. he recovered fast, using his tongue to swipe against your bottom lip in a request you couldn’t deny.

as lando deepened the kiss, he tugged you towards him, one hand slipping down to your waist and helping you across the console without ever having to disconnect your lips. you planted yourself firmly against his thighs, chests connecting as his tongue encircled yours. both his hands now crept towards your ass, squeezing firmly when they found their goal.

you almost automatically rolled your hips down as he gave a tug, eliciting a groan from his lips you so desperately wanted to hear again in a less public situation. he only held you tighter in response, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to gain some power back. you let him take it happily, bracing your hands against the headrest to gain some stability.

you were sure your lips were red and swollen by now, too enticed by the man below you who tasted vaguely of mint from the singular mojito you had seen him nurse all night.

the alcohol in your own system would be little match for the memories of lando’s hands on your skin. his fingers found their way up your waist and between the slits in your outfit so that they could dance along your skin with a wave of electricity.

lando tugged you closer, a feat you didn’t feel possible until your bodies were flush together, your knees taking the brunt of your weight to allow the closeness to remain. you let one finger slip from the headrest to trace the curve of his neck, enjoying the way his muscles tensed in anticipation at the contact. the sly smile it brought to your lips was enough to finally break your kiss, the two of you panting shallowly as your foreheads rested together.

lando took a moment, squeezing your waist as he closed his eyes to regain some of his own sanity.

“i should really get you home.” he muttered, voice void of any real haste “you make it quite hard to let you go.”

as he tilted his head to trail sweet kisses along the side of your jaw, you couldn’t quite help the offer that left your lips. something about the man below you had you believing that a rash decision would somehow be worth it.

“i never said you couldn’t come in.”

lando grinned in response, connecting your lips again as he turned the ignition back on in a clear acceptance of your invitation.

you’d have to clamber back into the passenger seat soon enough, but for one last second you allowed yourself to revel in the realisation that your night was about to get a lot more interesting.

so maybe you didn’t understand cars, but you’d certainly thank them for this outcome.

hello pals

soooo my first one shot ?! on this account at least. i used to write terrible 1d fanfic so this is a step up lmao. written based on overdrive by conan gray, 10/10 recommend

if you’re still here, thank you SO MUCH for reading. feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments/reblogs/asks, i always love reading what people have to say. i have not proof read this bc i hate my own writing so apologies if there are glaring mistakes.

i’ve also only been to monaco like three times but these quiet streets are entirely made up that place is manic (for someone who lives so close i do not go enough)

got some ideas in the brain, mostly around lando but also a few charles and oscar bits as they’re my boys so let’s see how this goes

but for now, big love! taglist can be found in my pinned post along with masterlist i’m slowing filling out🧡

- love, gigi xx

tags: @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @paolexsstuff @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @moonypixel @celestialpato @champagneproblems17

[worldofkuro]

idk if it sounds selfish but i need more comfort in my life rn, so i wanna ask for help.

if it's not really a big deal, i wanna see some comfort between alastor and reader when they were teens. maybe after he already told her that he wants to marry her, and something made her feel insecure and bad about herself. so she called Marie and ask Alastor to come, so she could lie down in his arms and listen him telling her that he loves her anyway.

or any other plots because I'll be okay with everything if it's fluff. thank you.

Of course dearest, anything for you to feel better. For those who will notice it, their last sentence is from the song “ Follow You” by Bring me the Horizon. I love this song and I thought it was pretty fitting. So here ,my dear, this scenario isn’t very long but I hope it will make you feel better. 

Follow You

You were coming back from school, trying to contain your tears. 

You had told Alice about Alastor’s wedding proposal and she was excited for you but some other girls heard you and made fun of you. How could a man see you desirable enough to be his wife? Most of the time, you didn’t care about their vile words, but you didn’t know why, today it was hurtful. Of course, Alice had taken your side immediately swearing at them like a sailor.

You didn’t greet your parents as you went immediately into your bedroom, hiding yourself under the blankets. You couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. Were you even worth being Alastor’s wife? He would always say you were “endearingly stupid”, did it mean he saw you as a stupid girl? Was he manipulating you?

Were you worth being special to someone’s heart?

You jerked your head up as you heard a knock on your window. You wiped your eyes and saw Alastor, his fist against the glass, staring at you. You opened the window quickly, scared he would fall.

“ Alastor, what are you doing here?”

“ I heard my mother talking with yours through the telephone, saying you didn’t feel well, so I came to check on you.” he entered your room, looking at you. You saw his eyes stopped at your tearied one. You tried to look away but he gripped your face, making sure he could watch your expression. “ Who?”

“ What..?”

“ Who made you cry?” he said with a gentle smile but his eyes had a dark glint.

“ No one.. It’s just… Am I worth it , Alastor?”

You gasped as Alastor forced you to lay on your bed, pushing something soft in your arms. Looking down on it you almost cried some more as you saw Eamon staring back at you. You squeezed it against your chest as Alastor laid next to you, observing your face.

“ Dearest, you’re just like a jewel. Being desired by people and those who can't have you are jealous. You are like a fresh breeze in summer, so short and yet so welcomed. You are much more than how you perceive yourself.”

“ But.. I feel like I’m going to be a useless wife…”

“ Hah! You, my dear, a useless wife? You could be doing nothing at home, as long as you are waiting for me, I would feel the happiest. But why would you think that? You have always been to my side, always accepted me. Why would I choose someone else to be next to me for my entire life? How could I look at anyone else now that my eyes have seen you?”

“ Alastor.. Do you love me…?”

He looked perplexed but wrapped his arms around your body, staring at your eyes without blinking.

“ I don’t know what love is about. But if loving you is wanting to devour you all, to protect you, you have your attention on me all the time, then I guess.. that I love you. But please, dearest, remember that even though I adore you, more than anything, my love is tainted with darkness. No matter how much I’m obsessed with you, I’ll drag you down to hell with me. I'm telling you, you're all I need, I promise you, you're all I see. I’ll never leave.” he stared at you, waiting for your answer.

“ I’ll follow you.’ you breathed, staring at his chocolate eyes. “So dig two graves because when you die, I swear I'll be leaving by your side. So you can drag me through hell, I’ll follow you.” you smiled sweetly at him as he beamed at your words, his cheeks flushed. He squeezed you against his body, Eamon between the both of you. 

You would always be together, the both of you. Alastor would always be by your side, like a curse, clawing at you to keep you from leaving, even if you would never think such a thing.

Your love was twisted, tainted in dark obsession but it was perfect for the both of you. Maybe people wouldn’t consider it as love, but you knew deep inside, Alastor would always chase after you if you were to run away. If you were to run away because of your feelings, your fears, everything, the only person who would chase you would be Alastor. And you knew he would never stop.

He would follow you.