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twstwinnie · 1 year

Note

Hello, i just discovered this blog and i really want to read your work more. If you don't mind can i request malleus x reader where reader feeling empty or brunedout due to study and overblots. You can edit it as you like or write as headcanon or one short it depends on you. Well have nice day/night.

♚ Tea for the Prefect : Malleus Draconia

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, burnout, reader is the prefect, gn! reader, ch.5 spoilers!

desc: upon noticing your growing distress, malleus takes matters into his own hands and bestows a gift of relaxation upon you. sleep well, dear prefect.

a/n: finally being more consistent with posts!! thank you for the request! I thought this was a lovely concept and a great opportunity for some lovely stress comfort fluff! also, I love writing for malleus! the reader in this is the prefect, but the reader is not explicitly yuu! with that, enjoy! — winnie <3

Time is fleeting, whether he likes it or not.

Such is a fact that Malleus is painfully aware of. Every day that passes is but a fraction of his extended lifespan.

That is until he met you.

Most people talk about time flying when one’s having fun, but for Malleus, time slows when he’s with you. Being in your presence reminds him of all the little things life has to offer. Despite his extended lifespan, he chooses to live in the present nowadays simply because you’re a part of it.

That being said, he’s still able to pick up on things when they happen so suddenly.

Like your fatigue.

Malleus is unaware if your fatigue slowly built up in terms of a human lifespan, but to a fae like him, it seemed almost immediate. However, he knows full well that it isn’t without reason.

After Ashengrotto’s overblot, he conversed with you out of curiosity, questioning how you used the advice he’d given you earlier. That’s when he learned that you’d been handling student overblots since your arrival on campus. Lilia further confirmed this fact, noting your involvement in Kingscholar’s overblot as well.

He didn’t realize how emotionally taxing it must’ve been until recently.

After Schoenheit was pulled from his overblotted state, Malleus appeared. He witnessed the aftermath firsthand.

More importantly, he could see the exhaustion in your eyes. He noticed the way you tiredly limped backstage once he’d repaired the stadium, and saw the way you brushed off your situation.

When he asked you about it, you insisted that it was nothing.

After that conversation, many things clicked into place for him. Not only did you deal with these treacherous battles without the use of magic, but you did so in tandem with your studies and other responsibilities. You had an incredible amount on your plate and everyone seemed content to continuously pile more and more atop it. He had to wonder if you truly ever allowed yourself the opportunity to rest.

Malleus, in good conscience, cannot sit by and allow you to remain in a perpetual state of stress and exhaustion. You’re precious to him, his dearest treasure, and if he can prevent you from losing your luster, he will.

Given your mortal lifespan is already so limited, he refuses to watch you crash and burn out.

So, he decides he’ll lend you some much needed assistance.

After a week of testing and schoolwork, the weekend finally arrives. The first thing Malleus does is convince Grim to stay at Diasomnia for the weekend. Silver (and, begrudgingly, Sebek) agree to watch over the small feline. A promise of food is all it takes.

Then, Malleus gathers various things he remembers that you like from your various conversations: tea, biscuits, warm blankets, and a book about gargoyles that you’d wanted to borrow from him.

With that, he sets off to your dorm, announcing that he’ll return the following morning. The fae certainly hopes you won’t mind him spending the night. Either way, he merely wants you to relax. Surely, you won’t turn him away.

Upon arrival, he knocks curtly on the door. While he typically preferred strolls around the quiet forests of Ramshackle, he didn’t mind having a day in at your request. You seem to enjoy cozy things when stressed, so he hopes this is enough.

You soon answer the door, a panicked expression on your face. “Tsunotaro! Have you seen Grim? He ran off earlier, and he didn’t say anything!” you insist. Malleus gives you a simple smile.

“He’s spending time with Silver and Sebek at Diasomnia. My apologies, I thought he left you a message. He’ll be there for the weekend,” Malleus explains. You heave out a relieved sigh, leaning against the door frame.

“Thank the Seven! He really needs to tell me before he runs off… but wait. Really? He’s staying at Diasomnia? Are you sure you don’t mind…?” you ask nervously. Malleus chuckles and shakes his head.

“Lilia is in charge for the weekend. I assure you, he can handle a few unruly creatures. He quite likes the challenge, actually. He doesn’t mind,” Malleus starts. “Actually, I was hoping you’d allow me to stay with you. I’d enjoy your company.”

You regard him with wide eyes for a moment before stepping aside. “Sure, I don’t mind. Come in,” you say. “Ah, but it’s a bit of a mess. I’m sorry— it’s been a hectic week.”

Malleus walks in and glances around. Sure enough, it’s a bit disorganized. Papers are strewn across the floor and judging by the mess of blankets by the table, he’s certain that you’ve been sleeping while studying.

“No need to offer apologies to me, Prefect. Actually, it’s fitting for the topic of conversation I wanted to bring up.” Malleus continues, “from what I’ve noticed, you seem overwhelmed. I’ve even heard that you’ve been falling asleep in class. Are you resting properly?”

He watches as you deflate, walking over to the couch and sinking down into it. With a sigh, you respond.

“I’m glad someone noticed. I’m exhausted, Tsunotaro. Our useless Headmage doesn’t help with overblots or money, so I’ve been working at the Lounge on top of everything else—

“Not to mention, I need to help Grim study so he doesn’t get caught in any dealings with Azul again. With everything going on, I hardly have time to sleep! I’m so tired… I’m really sorry, Malleus. I’ve been so busy that I’ve hardly had time to spend talking with you,” you mumble sadly. Malleus walks over and seats himself next to you.

“Why apologize to me, dear Prefect?” he questions. You huff and lean against him, shutting your eyes.

“I actually enjoy your company, but I’ve been so busy. I’ve skipped so many of our usual late night walks. I miss spending time with you,” you express. Malleus can’t help but give a fond smile in response. He gently runs his fingers through your hair as he hums.

“I’ve felt deprived of your company, but I’ve never once blamed you for such a thing. Don’t you think you’re the last person who owes anyone else an apology? You’re an unwilling participant in all the messes you find yourself in,” Malleus mentions. You sigh quietly.

“That’s true, but if I don’t take care of the overblots, who will? We both know Crowley won’t do a thing,” you mutter, a tinge of bitterness in your tone. Malleus chuckles lightly.

“Forgive me if it came off in this manner, but I wasn’t suggesting that you change your ways. I quite like you the way you are now, even with your needless prying into dangerous trouble,” he teases lightly. “All I’m requesting is that, when you find it’s too much to bear on your own, you allow me to take care of you.”

You pause. Met with silence, Malleus turns to face you, shocked to find your face red with fluster. You let out a shaky breath and smile, looking down.

“Don’t say things so cryptically like that, Tsunotaro. If you do, someone might mistake it for a confession, y’know,” you mumble under your breath. Malleus regards you with a gentle expression, placing a finger on your chin and lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Perhaps I wish for it to be taken in such a way. Have you considered that? If you’d prefer me to properly court you in order to be convinced, I don’t mind. Though, I thought it’d be best to inform you of my intentions at the very least,” he says with a smirk. You find yourself speechless, unable to tear your eyes away from his gaze.

Malleus awaits your response patiently, and once you find your bearings, you sputter out a response.

“I-I’ve never considered that, but I’d be happy to accept your feelings,” you whisper. “Oh, but no courting— please, I can only handle so much embarrassment. I don’t wanna know how far you’d go if I let you court me.”

Malleus smiles, leaning in to peck your lips softly before pulling back. “I’d only go as far as fae tradition allows. Alas, I’ll respect your wishes. If you accept my feelings, will you allow me to take care of you?” he asks. You return his smile and nod.

“Please. I’d appreciate it, Tsunotaro,” you say. With your permission, Malleus quickly gets to work.

A quick spell organizes the disarray that was once your lounging area. Then, he steeps the tea and prepares the snacks that he brought. He refuses to let you lift a finger to assist, insisting that you remain seated.

Once he pours you a cup, he’s happy to see the way your tense frame relaxes as you take a sip. Your dull eyes regain their shine as you both chatter away about whatever you please.

When he notices you yawn one too many times, he carries you to bed, much to your embarrassment. After changing into more comfortable clothing, he joins you in bed.

Sitting up, he allows you to wrap your arms around his waist and lay in his lap. In one of his hands, he holds the book you’d wanted to borrow, reading the contents aloud to you. With his other free hand, he gently runs away the knots in your back.

Malleus glances down every couple of minutes. Your expression of bliss and comfort brings warmth to his heart. It’s a far cry from your exhaustion earlier, the bags beneath your eyes slowly fading away.

“Mm… Tsunotaro. ‘m gonna fall asleep soon,” you mumble tiredly. Malleus hums in acknowledgment, shutting the book and setting it on the nightstand.

“Then sleep, my dear,” he insists, idly running his fingers through your hair. You shift your body to look up at him.

“Will you stay here? Please?” you ask. Malleus smiles, leaning down to kiss you gently.

“As promised earlier, I’ll remain by your side. When you awaken, I will be here to greet you, so fret not,” he assured gently. You grin, leaning up to steal another kiss before laying back down.

“Alright then. Good night, Malleus. And thank you for helping me.”

Malleus smiles.

“Of course. You needn’t thank me. You’re my dearest treasure, and these simple things are merely proof of that,” he says. He watches quietly as you quietly drift off into slumber, your built up exhaustion finally catching up with you. Smiling, he leans down and kisses your forehead gently, whispering one last thing before falling asleep by your side.

“Good night, dear prefect.”

— fin.

#twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fanfic #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst oneshot #twst malleus #twst malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #winnie-writes #winnie-wishes

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davesrightshoe · 3 months

Text

Corrected

Thrawn x Y/N (18+!)

cw: spanking, fingering, general mdom, inappropriate workplace dynamics

Authors Note: ahh.. so it was my birthday this weekend and I wanted to share a bit of Thrawn with y'all. This is the first smut one shot I've ever written so I'm pretty embarrassed but my friends gave me some IRL exposure therapy. I hope y'all enjoy!

You stood in front of the metallic doors of Thrawn’s office. Alone on the upper floors of the Chimera, the only sounds you heard were the ambient hum of a ship traveling across the galaxy and the nervous beating of your own heart. Your daily anxiety had spiked when you had checked your data pad near the end of your shift to find an urgent summons from the Grand Admiral. The note had held very few details, and it hadn’t been the first time he had asked for a private meeting. But this time, you knew you were in trouble because he had never summoned you to see him this late after hours, preferring to delay the meeting to the next day. You had a feeling that this all had to do with the disastrous morning you had had.

At 9:00 sharp, a delegation of high-ranking Imperial officers had arrived on the Chimera, and you had been tasked with greeting them and welcoming them onboard. Easy enough. What anyone had failed to brief you on was that it wasn’t a typical naval meeting, where Thrawn and some other Admiral would discuss strategies and plan future campaigns. No, instead you had to learn firsthand, as he walked down the shuttle ramp, that today’s esteemed guest was Orson Krennic. Director of a top secret project which you only knew the faint details of. But from the private remarks of Thrawn, you knew he was a pain in the ass to work with, a pompous brat who was too smart for his own good. He also was diverting critical funds from Thrawn’s personal projects which more than angered your Grand Admiral. Whatever he was working on, you doubted it mattered enough to get in the way of the Empire’s most talented naval strategist, but it seemed the Empire didn’t share your opinion.

Walking down, with his white cape flaring around him, he gaudily stepped onto the hanger floor and glared at the surrounding troops. God, he was pretentious. You and a unit of death troopers approached him, coming to a stop a few meters away. Before you had even finished your salute, he asked, “Where’s Thrawn?”

“The Grand Admiral is in his morning meeting with the board officers of the Chimera. He will join us after the tour.”

“Oh, kriff the tour, I came here to talk to Thrawn, and he won’t even meet me, craven bastard. Take me to him now!”

You flinched at the insult to your Admiral. “Sir, he does not wish to be disturbed presently. They are planning key details for our next attack.”

He glared down at me from his impressive stature. He really was a lot taller than you expected for someone everyone called a brat. Well, everyone being Thrawn, and Krennic was shorter than him. Maybe that’s why he hates Admiral Thrawn so much. “Well, I am ordering you, Lieutenant, to take me to him. His attack be damned.”

“Sir, I promise I will take you to him once he has finished. If you wish, we can go directly now to his office, and I will ask for his quick return.”

“I hope I do not have to explain to you the weight a Director has on even naval careers. It would be in your best interest not to keep me waiting. Take me to him at once.”

“Sir, I will speak with him now,” you say, pulling out your data pad and opening a commlink with Thrawn. “Grand Admiral, I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting, but the Director is requesting an immediate meeting with you.”

“Lieutenant,” his sibilant voice poured out the commlink’s speakers, “I am in a meeting with my chief combatants. I specified that we are not to be disturbed.” Even though his voice was as calm as ever, you could hear the warning in his tone. He had given you a clear specification of how this day would go, and you were messing with his plans. And if there was anyone whose plans you should not disrupt, it was most definitely Grand Admiral Thrawn.

“I’m sorry, sir, but he has been most adamant that he wishes for an audience now.” You risked a glance at the Director who stood waiting with crossed arms. All he needed to do was stamp his feet and pout his lip and he’d be the textbook picture of a petulant child.

“Well then, Lieutenant, you must find a way to entertain him until I am finished.” He quickly shut off the line, and you were left in silence with the prissy Director. Gathering a deep breath, you prepared to tell Krennic that he’d have to wait for the Admiral to be done.

“Director, he has clarified that he will not be disturbed. Would you like to accompany me to the Grand Admiral’s office where he will shortly return?” Maker, I hope he accepts this.

“Take me to him now,” he commanded.

“Sir, I cannot he has specified that ---”

“I don’t give a shit what he told you, some junior officer won’t stop me from talking to that bastard” and he stormed off into the main hallway. You ran after him, scrambling for something you could do to stop this from getting worse.

“Sir, if you would just accompany me to Admiral Thrawn’s office, I could arrange for you to ---”

“Is he in his office right now?”

“No, sir.”

“Then take me wherever the kriff he is.”

“Sir, even if I took you there you wouldn’t be able to get in without clearance.” You slid to a halt in the hallway when Director Krennic suddenly turned around and started marching towards you.

“I’m a damn director of the Empire, you think there is anywhere I can’t get in?” He angrily waved a hand around his head. “Every inch of this star destroyer is unrestricted to me. Your Grand Admiral included!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but you wouldn’t be able to enter. Grand Admiral Thrawn is very particular about the security. You need his personal access.”

“Do you have personal access?”

“y… yes,” you stuttered. You really didn’t want to take him to Thrawn after Thrawn had told you to leave him alone, but it wasn’t like you could lie to him.

“Well then, take me to the room, and let me in.” He said it as if it was the simplest thing in the world. As if you weren’t about to go against Thrawn’s explicit command.

“Sir, again, the Admiral told me that he was not to be disturbed.”

“And again, kriff what he said,” he snapped his head to a trooper. “Trooper, do you know where the Grand Admiral is?” The trooper hesitantly nodded. “Good man, now take me there before I have to pry open every door on this blasted ship myself.”

Maker, this was just getting worse and worse.

It hadn’t been very pretty, when the lock doors had opened on the Chimera’s boardroom to reveal you, the Death Troopers, and Director Krennic with your code cylinder in his hand. Thrawn’s eyes had locked on yours, and his dissatisfied and annoyed gaze burned into your soul. You felt deeply ashamed for failing him. And now 12 hours later, you were going to pay the price.

Telling yourself to pull it together, you put your code cylinder into the receiver outside Thrawn’s door. The sound of the door sliding open reminded you of the morning again, bringing an embarrassed flush to your checks.

“I’m glad to see your ashamed of your actions, Lieutenant.” Thrawn sat behind his desk with a displeased look. His frown cut your heart because you knew you had finally disappointed him. Unknown to many, but you actually had a soft spot for the Grand Admiral, and you always worked hard to please him. Only you knew the way your heart flipped when he would spare you a small smile or the rare “Good work, Lieutenant.” It was wrong to feel that way about your superior, but you couldn’t help but admire the talented Grand Admiral. He had a tremendous, ambitious mind, and a strikingly handsome face. Distinctly alien, but handsome nonetheless. But none of that mattered now, you had let him down and it hurt.

“Stand before me, Lieutenant” That was new, he usually told you to sit. Your heart sped up, you weren’t sure where this was going, but you had a bad feeling. You silently nodded and moved to a stiff parade rest before him.

Thrawn stood and moved around his desk to begin slowly pacing circles around you. Once he had reappeared in your sight line, he addressed you. “Have you nothing to say for yourself? I clearly dictated to you that he was not to enter my meeting, and yet you disobeyed me.”

“Sir, I’m deeply sorry, I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He asked the Death Trooper to show him the board room and then he took my code cylinder. I didn’t intend for him to ---” The words that had rushed so quickly out of your mouth were promptly cut off by Thrawn’s harsh tone.

“Enough, I am not looking for your excuses. Explain to me why you thought it was appropriate to blatantly disobey my orders.”

“I tried sir, I did. But he wanted to speak with you at once.”

“And why did you not bring him to my office to wait? That would have been the prudent thing to do.” The way Thrawn’s eyes cut through you hurt. He now doubted your ability to do a simple task. You had worked so hard to impress him and prove myself as a competent and dependable soldier; his disappointment was shattering.

“Sir, I asked him to accompany me, but he refused and demanded an audience.” But even as you said it, you knew Thrawn wouldn’t accept this. I gave it all away, I should have been smarter.

“And you could not think of anything better? You could have taken him here and told him you would go summon me. He would have been left to his own devices here where he was contained.”

“Sir, I—I’m sorry.”

“I have heard your apologies.” He huffed, “but it will not do. You are my officer, you must learn to manage these situations. I thought you were intelligent enough to serve me.” His red eyes flamed as he berated you for your incompetent handling of the situation. “Did I overestimate your abilities?”

“No sir!” Your voice cracked in panic “I promise I strive only to serve you. I failed you today, but I will do everything in my power to amend my behavior, sir.”

“We shall see.” A sliver of hope bloomed in your chest, was there still a chance for you? “Now, get on your knees.”

“Sir?” You asked, confused. Where was he going with this?

“Oh, dear. Is today to be such a difficult day for you, Lieutenant. I said, get on your knees.” He came up behind you and pressed his hands down on your shoulders until you bent your knees and landed on your kneecaps. “Good. But for the rest of our time together, I would prefer not to repeat myself. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you were shaken. You had no idea what was going on. This reminded you of some of your more illicit nighttime fantasies, but Thrawn was never this angry or commanding. You always imagined him as strict but with a loving hand.

“Very well. Then we may begin” He removed his hands from your shoulders, and they burned from his contact. “What did I specify to you about today’s meeting?”

“You said not to disturb you, sir.”

“Yes, and then why was I disturbed?”

“I—I, I didn’t follow your orders, sir.”

“Correct, you let that ass interrupt my briefing.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you were starting to tear up. All the anxiety and stress from the day was starting to catch up with you, and you couldn’t handle Thrawn’s displeasure with you right now. You just wanted to make it all better and go back to being his perfect assistant. “Please, sir, let me make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oh, do not fret, my dear, we shall see about that.” He pushed a hand into your hair, grasping the back of your head and pushing gaze down at the floor. He crouched down, bringing his mouth a centimeter from your ear. “As it is, I think you should pay with your ass, as they say, ‘an eye for an eye’.”

You jumped turning to look at him, but he was faster, tightening his grip on your hair and keeping your eyes pinned on the ground. He tsked. “Ah, no, Lieutenant, you must be good and accept your punishment. Did you not just say you wanted to ‘make it up to me.’ Now, listen well and do as I say, or else I will be very displeased.” Hearing Thrawn’s words over you brought goosebumps to your skin. You couldn’t believe he was really saying this to you.

“Yes, sir.” Your voice came out hoarsely, even if you were brave enough to admit it, a bit husky.

“Good Girl. Now get over my desk.”

Your core throbbed. This was like every sick fantasy combined together and you weren’t sure if you could take it all, but at the same time you would die if it stopped.

“I think fifteen will be enough to reinforce for you the importance of obeying your Grand Admiral. Do you agree, ch'otcavurt in'a?”

“Yes, sir.” You were starting to wonder if this day was just a horrifyingly realistic dream, a figment of your unconscious psyche that had begun to unravel after so many years of a high stress and low sleep environment.

“Good, let us begin.” He unbuckled her belt and pulled down her regulation trousers to expose her underwear. Embarrassed, she tightened her grip on the edge of the desk and braced for it to begin. But instead of a harsh sting, she was rewarded with the soft touch of his hands as he slid her panties down. Only the extended edge of her tunic covered her bare ass. Her nerves felt like they were riding the razer edge of the fabric covering her from flashing Thrawn.

“We can’t let this get in the way,” he said, folding the tunic over and removing the final protection of her dignity.

You jumped at the initial strike, gasping from the shock and pain. Definitely not a dream! “Shhh be still, this is a punishment.” You took deep breaths trying to prepare yourself for the next blow, but even as it came you knew you were done for. You doubted he was using his entire strength, even still the sharp sting threw off your concentration. All thoughts of Krennic and the morning were shoved away, as you lay in nervous anticipation of the next blow.

Thrawn took his time, giving you ample opportunity to tense and untense your muscles before his eventual slap came. He varied the location and pressure, not wanting you to acclimate to the punishment. The fourth strike brought out a pained groan. And on the seventh Thrawn gave you a particularly hard smack to your right cheek. You openly moaned.

“Are you enjoying this, Lieutenant?” You couldn’t see his face, but you had a suspicion he was smirking. You ground your forehead into the desk and pulled yourself together to respond.

“No, sir,” you strained to keep your voice even, despite how desperately you wanted to start begging him to fuck you.

“Wrong choice, Lieutenant, that’s another added for lying.” He brought down his hand to give you a matching red handprint on your left ass cheek. And then you heard something that took your breath away. Thrawn groaned. “That’s right, Ch'itses'o bustucah, take your punishment. Your ass is so beautiful with my hand printed on it. Like a painting. I should take a photo and hang it above my desk.” His hand went down your back, massaging your sore behind. “Ahh, but no photo would be worthy, as I have seen the original print.” He chuckled at his own joke and smacked you again.

You hissed and pushed your ass back towards him, openly inviting him to continue his onslaught. “Now this is very encouraging. My disobedient brat is eager for her correction. Only a few more until all is forgiven.” And the air was filled with the staccato slaps of Thrawn’s hand on your flesh. The last blow he aimed at your left check, leaving a flush red handprint in its wake.

But just as quickly as they had rained down smacks, his hands dropped to softly caress and soothe the sore skin on your backside. “Hush now, Ch’eo visahot, you did very well. Let your Grand Admiral take care of you.” His calming words soothed your nerves, as your body fought the wave of endorphins and adrenaline which the spanking had raised in you. Your mind was at rest, and all of your stress and anxiety was replaced by a quiet contented buzz. After a few minutes, his massaging and gentle support had you fighting the weighted pull of sleep. “Come here, darling, stand up now. You deserve to rest on something softer than my desk.” Thrawn’s hands slipped under your hips encouraging you to put your weight on him as he guided you around his desk and to sit on his lap in his armchair.

You hissed at the contact of your sore ass with his thigh. The softness of his chest though encouraged you to lean your back into him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and stroked your upper thigh, which twitched in response at the proximity of his hand to your cunt. With his ever observant eyes, your nervous convulsion didn’t escape him, and he repeated the action. You turned your face towards him to find a smirk resting on his lips. “Would you like me to stop, Besbi.”

“No,” you whispered, turning your face back to watch as his hand crept up your thigh till he stopped at the apex of your legs. He waited there stroking small up and down trails, working you up but never giving you exactly what you wanted.

“What did you say? You must speak louder,” he intoned, his hand never straying from his teasing motions.

“Please don’t stop,” you managed to say without stuttering. Thrawn rewarded you by finally swiping a finger across your folds. The contact stole a whimper from your lips. He answered you, by deepening his contact, swirling his thumb over your clit before plunging his fingers into you. Your gasp was accompanied by his groan as you clenched around his fingers.

The alternatively curled and twisted his hand to stimulate you. A quick study, he learned how to draw out loud moans from you within minutes. Soon you were writhing on his lap, completely heedless of the pain from your spanking. Thrawn praised you, telling you how beautiful you looked on his fingers. The combination of his words and actions pushed you to your release. Your climax came quickly, with you gasping his name.

Turning your boneless body around, Thrawn pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Ch'itt'teehah ch'eo ch'acah”. Without thinking too hard about the impropriety of the entire situation, you slipped your arms around his neck and laid your head on his chest. You didn’t know if you could think about anything too hard at that moment, completely drained as you were. Thrawn let you take your time to recover, gently drawing circles into your back and whispering Cheunh phrases to lull you to sleep.

Dividers from @cafekitsune

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn fanfiction #thrawn #davesrightshoe #thrawn smut

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the-24-7-lawlu-library · 3 months

Text

Poll Vote Hurt & Comfort

Hello lovely readers <3

Here is our Poll Vote post, there are so many great Hurt & Comfort fanfic with them, we picked out some of them for you.

Have a great weekend and enjoy reading <3

across the distance (M) by Tciddaemina

Law and Bepo have just finished charting a new course when Law feel's Luffy's heart begin to race. He lets out a breath, ignoring it, and finishes looking over the last of the calculations, giving Bepo a final nod and stepping away, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket as he steps out the door onto the deck. He leans against the rail, lighting up, and brings the cigarette to his lips, inhaling. He feels Luffy's heart skip a beat. The racing slows, tempo lowing again back to normal rates, and Law almost huffs and ignores it entirely, except then Luffy's heart rate continues to drop, and it doesn't stop. It hits his resting heart rate and then keeps falling, plummeting rapidly. Law sucks in a sharp breath, stomach dropping, one hand clutching at his chest as he stops so fast he almost staggers, because fuck, something is happening- - Luffy is dying, and Law is half an ocean away, too far to help.

Will You Share Your Emotions Under The Moon? (G) byDoodle4Noodle

A Satellite Far from the Sun cosmicatta T """How stupid. You are the Sun and I’m no more than a distant satellite trapped in your orbit."" Law sees sunshine at midnight, learns how to dance (kind of), and finds out where he truly belongs within the solar system. All before daybreak." 3,02 2023 complete

Not about the free lunch (T) by chenziee

There were a lot of things Luffy wanted to tell Law but right now, looking at the blood dripping from the hastily patched up wound on Law's arm, there was only one thing on his mind.

A Satellite Far from the Sun (T) by cosmicatta

"How stupid. You are the Sun and I’m no more than a distant satellite trapped in your orbit." Law sees sunshine at midnight, learns how to dance (kind of), and finds out where he truly belongs within the solar system. All before daybreak.

Dead Defend No Honour (G) by KhepiAri

What if Luffy found out, Law lost it all at the hands of Blackbeard? Will he let Law suffer alone, or will he drag him back to Sunny?

what fate wants (T) by frogsterz

“What do they mean?” Luffy blinks round eyes up at him, his hair dripping water down his face. Law wavers between answering him honestly, because lying to Luffy feels like a crime against humanity, and keeping his dark, sordid past to himself. “It’s a heart,” he deflects. “You have many hearts,” Luffy observes. He pokes his right arm. “Are they for someone you loved?” (What Luffy wants is what fate wants. Law will realise this firsthand, whether he wants to or not.)

Your Heart, Broken in My Chest (T) by purplehairedwonder

Luffy was far from an expert at having someone else’s heart in his chest, but he was pretty sure what was happening with Torao’s heart wasn’t normal. Written for 10 Days of LawLu 2023 Day 8: Hurt/Comfort

Breathe (T) by CheshireSense

Luffy never told Ace, and he probably won't tell Sabo either, but he's never really liked fire. Or, the one where even Luffy has his bad days. Law understands.

If You Need Me, I Will (G) by BasicallyACat

Luffy can't find the words to describe all the things he feels, couldn't say them even if he found them. He knows people don't understand him usually and doesn't really mind. His nakama understand and that is all that matters. When he meets Law, suddenly there are far too many things to say even when he can't and Luffy prays Law can understand anyways.

scarred but not beyond repair (T) by marimoes

Across the room, Law grumbles in his sleep. A sharp inhaling of air sucks in through his lips and it nearly sounds pained. Like he’s been hit, and Luffy jumps up at once on alert—but finds nothing. As he creeps closer, Luffy watches Law's left hand start to dig at his bandages.

-Mod Raiya

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nihilnovisubsole · 2 months

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phew! finally a weekend where i can set aside enough time to type up The Promised Endwalker Stream-of-Consciousness Post. i finished the base story... a month ago? but work has been busy, and i think tumblr benefits from me being quiet sometimes. anyway, what a ride. when you've been building up to the end of your arc for a decade, you want to hit it like an earthquake, and that's exactly what they did.

i think people love endwalker because it fires on all cylinders. it returns - in both story and vision - to the eorzea we love, and the dev team gets to show off everything they've learned. the dungeons and boss fights are dynamic and imaginative and colorful and bring the game's epic sense of scope to bear. the story callbacks are juicy. the music is orchestral again. we're back home, and we're saving the galaxy. what's better than this?

i love that we go to garlemald. i don't - i mean, you know, i don't like garlemald. i shouldn't have to qualify that. but it's hugely narratively satisfying to see the face of the enemy we've been fighting since the first few hours of ARR. you don't think about them when you're beating them up in castrum centri or ala mhigo. they're star wars bad guys. then you meet them on their own turf. you observe firsthand how they starve and cannibalize their own people to feed their obsession with state power and military strength. the wintry environment makes it seem all the more barren and desperate. my favorite part by far. i wish we'd spent more time there.

actually, on that note:

there is an argument that endwalker should've been two expacs. i've heard similar about stormblood - ala mhigo should've been the whole thing, and doma should've been either patch content or an expac of its own. the prevailing theory is that, after ARR, the devs are afraid of letting arcs run long. i can't speak to that, but i wouldn't have minded, that's for sure!

i won't pretend not to be biased. i've noted in many xiv posts that it hurries through its political plots to get to the magic stuff. i felt more conscious of it in heavensward and especially in stormblood. i made peace with it in endwalker. with dessert this good, who am i to complain? i can do small character drama on my own time. for now, the game wants royce to be a big damn shonen hero, and that can be fun, too.

speaking of characters, urianger and estinien have grown on me. this is the arc where, for me at least, the scions have congealed. they're all good, but with any large cast and custom player character, you tend to form the meatiest bonds with a few specific ones. i think royce appreciates urianger's cooler, more mature head. they're both so formal. he realizes she's someone he can confide in. i think she sees estinien as a gifted, but hotheaded whelp, which i find very funny. patience, child. stop sulking. do your breathing drills.

i love thancred's MGS sequence and in from the cold too. they're stressful, but i love that the team tried, you know what i mean? the fact that you can fight enemies in a pinch makes those duties way more bearable than some other games that experiment with stealth.

in from the cold as a whole, honestly. If You Know, You Know

all right, i can't avoid referencing spoilers anymore, sorry. there's a sense of classical tragedy to the whole elpis sequence. it's like watching macbeth or hamlet. you know how it's going to end, and you know you're powerless to stop it, but if they'd just made that different choice! but we had to leave eden. the warrior of light had to end up where they are to finish what elpis started. i don't do fate/destiny plots, but this? i'll take it.

i also knew what would happen going into ultima thule and still came away from it moved. it's strong writing. that's all there is to it. sure, the visuals are haunting, but the dialogue has to sell a gauntlet of difficult character moments, and it pulls it off. on the design side, there's some interesting intentional friction that forces you to linger in the zone and sit with its sense of despair. that part where you have to search the empty park for signs of life? oof

with the majority of the MSQ under my belt, i started sniffing around for what else there is to do ingame. i tried ninja. did terribly. i tried sage. did terribly too, but at least that gave me access to the healer role quests, which, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). the nier raids are gorgeous. i even did the controversial werlyt quests, and terncliff is so cute. i kind of wish we could have another story there!

what's next? i dunno! right now i'm burning through the hildibrand quests before i continue on with endwalker's patch story. the field operation stuff seems interesting to do after the MSQ, in a "hey, you saved the world, but we have more missions for you" way. i've also contracted Triple Triad Collector Disease, so that'll keep me busy for a long time.

all right. one last thing. Real Gamer Moments: i was in a mount-farming party recently, and i said that i sort of collected mounts, but only used the ishgardian chocobo. it's a roleplay thing - it's the chocobo royce took when she ran away from ishgard. one of the party members said "haurchefant would be proud of you." AUGH

#ffxiv #long post

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wisedawn13 · 8 months

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#xiantober Day 1: Dadxian

"Baba! Baba!"

Wei Ying smiles as he watches his son run toward him, tiny backpack swinging wildly as he goes. "Hey, little radish! How was your da—oof!"

The rest of his words (and a little bit of his breath) are knocked out of him as A-Yuan jumps.

Thankfully, used to A-Yuan's tendency to launch himself, Wei Ying catches him easily and brings him up to rest on his hip.

"Baba! Can we get a rabbit?"

Wei Ying blinks. "What?"

A-Yuan squirms in his arms. "We should get a rabbit! We learned about them today!"

"I see," Wei Ying says, nodding his head. "I can't agree to that right now, bud. We will need to do research before we can decide on that."

A-Yuan's eyes widen as he pouts at him. "Pleeeaaaaseeee?"

Wei Ying laughs and pokes A-Yuan's cheek. "We can't get one yet."

"But, if you eat all your dinner tonight, including your veggies, I will look into us taking a trip to a place that sells rabbits this weekend. Only to look and learn! No buying yet. Deal?"

A-Yuan nods his head vigorously. "Yes! Yes! I'll be good, let's go!"

Turns out, there's a specialty rabbit shop not too far from their apartment. So, A-Yuan having upheld his end of the deal, the pair find themselves outside the shop on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

"Baba! Let's gooooo!" A-Yuan whines, pulling Wei Ying's arm.

"Ah, ah. Hold up a second there, little radish. What are we here for?"

A-Yuan stops pulling and looks at him with a serious face. "Looking and learning."

"Good. And what aren't we here for?"

With a forlorn sigh, A-Yuan replies, "Buying."

Wei Ying chuckles. "Good. Let's go."

They enter the shop and find a quiet, cozy interior with all sorts of rabbit-related items. It's quite cute. A-Yuan wanders off to look at toys while Wei Ying looks over various hutches.

"Good afternoon," a deep, smooth voice says. "May I help you?"

"Yeah, I—oh," Wei Ying falters as his breath is stolen from him by the sight of the most beautiful man he's ever had the pleasure of seeing. He realizes after a moment that he is staring quite dumbly and rudely. "Um, ah sorry. Yes, my son is interested in getting a rabbit."

Wei Ying gestures to where A-Yuan appears to be weighing two different rabbit toys in his tiny hands. The man looks over and hums in acknowledgement before returning to meet Wei Ying's gaze. "We're here today to learn and look before we decide on getting a rabbit."

The man nods. "That is very wise. I can answer any questions you have, plus we have a brochure that contains links to helpful websites."

"Ahh, that'd be great! Thanks. I'm Wei Ying, by the way. And you are?"

"Lan Zhan," he replies, pointing to the name tag on his shirt.

Ah...

Well! Can't blame Wei Ying for not noticing that when he has a face like that. With a slightly awkward laugh Wei Ying nods. "Right. Well, thanks Lan Zhan. I'm a complete rabbit virgin so I'm trusting you to take good care of me." He smiles wide to cover the internal cringe.

Why did he say it like that? Sure, the man is beautiful and stunning, and sure, he wouldn't say no if he was asked out on a date, but the man is working! Being flirted with at work is the worst, Wei Ying knows firsthand from his years bartending just how sucky that is.

He's just about to apologize when he sees Lan Zhan's mouth tick up in the corners ever so slightly. "I promise to take good care of you," he says in a low voice. Then, almost as an afterthought, "Wei Ying."

Wei Ying feels his face warm with blush. "G-good."

"Would you and your son like to see the rabbits?"

Before Wei Ying can respond, the son in question all but screams "YES!" before rushing over to Wei Ying's side. "Yes, please! Rabbits, please!"

Wei Ying laughs brightly. "I think that's a yes."

"Mn," Lan Zhan replies warmly.

They follow Lan Zhan through the shop into a room at the back where there are a number of pens and hutches set up with rabbits. Beside him, A-Yuan gasps and grips his hand tightly."

"Baba," he whispers in awe. "Rabbits!"

Wei Ying chuckles softly, petting his head.

"You may look closer if you wish."

A-Yuan looks up at Wei Ying with wide eyes.

"Go ahead."

Slowly, A-Yuan lets go of Wei Ying's hand and waddles over to the closest pen and stares at the rabbits within with wide-eyed wonder.

"I love them," A-Yuan breathes.

Wei Ying shares a look with Lan Zhan before walking over and crouching down next to A-Yuan. "They're definitely cute, that's for sure."

"Would you like to hold one?" Lan Zhan asks.

A-Yuan whips around so fast that Wei Ying gets whacked in the face with his hair. "I'm allowed!?"

Lan Zhan nods.

A-Yuan, much to Lan Zhan's surprise as well as Wei Ying's, runs up and launches at Lan Zhan to hug him. Surprisingly, Lan Zhan reacts quickly and catches A-Yuan. Wei Ying's shocked expression meets Lan Zhan's and something soft passes between them.

"A-Yuan, you shouldn't launch yourself at just anyone!"

Sheepishly, A-Yuan pulls back. "Sorry, bunny gege."

Lan Zhan shifts to tell A-Yuan something but Wei Ying gets distracted by the sight of Lan Zhan's ears, dusted with a rosy blush. Cute.

He realizes Lan Zhan is looking at him again. "Oh, is A-Yuan going to hold a rabbit?"

"Mn. Would you like to as well?"

Wei Ying smiles. "Sure! Just teach me how."

Lan Zhan nods. "You are in good hands, as I said."

Wei Ying notices his ears are a darker shade now.

Lan Zhan directs them to sit before going off to grab two rabbits. He comes back with them held in his arms, against his chest. Carefully, he deposits one on Wei Ying's lap and the other on A-Yuan's as he instructs them on what to do.

Then, they are holding rabbits.

It's so much nicer than Wei Ying expected it would be. They are quiet and soft and warm. The rabbit just melted right into him. Gently, he runs a hand over its fur to pet as Lan Zhan showed.

"Baba," A-Yuan says. "Baba, I'm holding a rabbit!"

Wei Ying looks at his son.

"Sure are, radish. You're doing great!"

A-Yuan beams at him, tiny hand petting the rabbit in his lap.

"Rabbits can be given radishes as treats sometimes," Lan Zhan states.

Wei Ying looks at him and laughs. "Hear that, radish? What if a rabbit tries to gobble you up?"

"Nooooo!" A-Yuan whines, giggling. "I'm not a real radish! I'm a boy!"

"No? Huh. I could have sworn you were," Wei Ying teases.

Lan Zhan huffs a quiet laugh at that and Wei Ying feels like his world tilted 5 degrees suddenly.

All too soon, the rabbits are placed back and the three of them walk back into the store proper. Lan Zhan hands Wei Ying a brochure and walks them to the exit.

"Thank you for this," Wei Ying says.

"Yes! Thank you bunny gege!"

"It was my pleasure," Lan Zhan replies softly.

They say their farewells with the promise of coming back to the store soon enough.

A-Yuan is practically vibrating with excitement the whole way home.

It's when A-Yuan is down for his name that Wei Ying takes a look at the brochure Lan Zhan handed him and smiles.

On the inside, there's a handwritten number.

It seems like more than just rabbits will be coming into Wei Ying's life soon.

----------

Link to thread

#xiantober #mdzs #wangxian #threadfic #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan wangji #lan zhan #wei wuxian #wei ying #dadxian #from twitter #wisedawn13 #fanfic #fanfiction

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adwox · 8 months

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i dont really care for human AUs of mega man characters but a zerox-centric college AU is actually so funny to me

-X graduates at the top of his class is therefore able to shave one year off at college, so hes put in the sophomore year dorms and his roommate is zero

-zero only went to college cause his stupid dad WAS a professor at university, but he got shitcanned halfway through his first term cause wily publicly cursed zero out for not paying attention in class

-light ended up being wilys replacement, to which neither X nor zero knew about until one day during parents weekend they both arrive to their boys dorm room at the same time. and yes they are bitter exs just like in the real games

-zero is a trustfund baby i said what i said. he kind of does not gaf about college at all but he is a dedicated D1 athlete and does work on the campus coffee shop (its the only place he will actually end up doing his homework because he functions best in a loud environment)

-X is duel-majoring because light has subconsciously put a lot of pressure on him especially after his oldest sibling blues dropped out very early on. rock never went to college because seeing what blues went through kind of freaked him out. roll plans on attending one day but is currently working to save up money first and also she just kind of doesnt feel like it yet. X is the worlds first youngest sibling to have eldest daughter syndrome

-despite being in the same graduating class, zero is still technically older, so X looks up to him as an upperclassmen. zero does feel an obligation to show him the ropes so he does look after him for a good while during X's first semester but he soon realizes firsthand just how capable he is

(non-hard drug talk below)

-neither of them ironically share vices, since they both make the respective other anxious. X is a wake and bake kind of guy, zero is a Drinks black coffee an hour before midnight person

-X only recently tried coffee again because zero made him a lavender latte specifically for him. even tho it was decaf, X still felt like his heart was about to jump out of his throat which he felt SO bad about since he knew zero specifically made it for him. and this happened within the first week of the term so they hadnt known each other that well, so X was very very embarrassed knowing zero was just watching him shake like a little leaf. though zero found it all rather amusing

-zero never smoked before because bass was a chronic smoker and it kind of turned him off since they didnt really get along for a while (theyre on much better terms now, they soulbond over wily causing them grief these days). X offers to roll for zero on the very first weekend cause in his mind X is like: college sophomore, how to get on good terms? offer free weed. Unfortunately a few hits in zero is white-knuckling his kneecaps and doing everything in his power not to throw up. he learned the hard way then and there that he is too paranoid for that shit, and while X felt so incredibly guilty for a while, he did feel it let them both become closer faster since zero did need to let his guard down to let X take care of him that evening

(end drug talk)

-X goes to every game zero is in (i really like the idea of the sport zero plays being hockey but idk if theres D1 hockey teams in college Lol) despite knowing nothing about the sport rules

-X finds out vile is actually on the same sports team as zero which is SO awkward for him since they had VERY briefly dated before X realized just how incompatible they were. whenever vile puts two and two together about who X's roommate is, let it be known he will be scheming........

-X joins the improv club because he feels he struggles a lot with making decisions on the fly, but to his surprise hes very great at adapting to other people! zero, who kind of used to think it was a rather silly club, ends up sitting in on some of their performances and finds it quite endearing

-also the first bonding moment X and zero have is when zero notices X hang up a photo of rush on their corkboard and is like: "oh shit i like your dog. i have one too. (shows photo of treble) i mean technically hes my older brothers but hes the only one that cares to make that distinction." X responds immediately full of newfound excitement: "no way, i have an older brother too! well, two of them. and an older sister.... but since i was the last one to leave the house, i always felt like i was taking care of them whenever theyd come back." IMMEDIATE soul bonding over family dynamics ensue

#megaman #mmx #xzero #i am NOT reading what i ranted about cause its just ideas floating at the top of my head. will maybe add more later #like maybe stuff w the navigators idk idk idk #ME BEING LIKE yeah college AUs arent that intereting to me i dont like them. anyway hes WALLS OF TEXT #>mine_>text

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chibrary · 5 months

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Interview: "A short chat with Charles Leclerc: karting, rivalries, Formula 1 and everything in between" (2020)

source: yanek sterzel, tkart series: f1, 2020

The launch of my kart brand was a special announcement, because it was the realization of a dream that I had since I was a child. I started my karting career and I always had in mind to do something firsthand in this world, especially to help younger drivers reach higher levels.

Just think about it: me, Max (Verstappen n.d.r.), Pierre (Gasly), Esteban (Ocon) ... today we are all in Formula 1, but it is with karting that we all started. And it wasn't even too long ago.

The fact that I wrote that karting is the means by which I learned the most is because I mean it. All drivers learn the basics with karting: rather than driving per se, which is very different from Formula 1, you learn to work with mechanics and engineers, which is fundamental in continuing your career. Personally, my working method hasn't changed from my karting days onwards.

The podium of the Varennes World Championship in 2013, Leclerc's last karting race. He finished 2nd behind Verstappen and in front of Lennox-Lamb.

I wasn't very happy after this race ... Especially in karting I was very hard on myself, and that result was not what I wanted. However, considering how the season had gone and that we weren't the strongest in terms of pure speed that weekend, it didn't go so bad.

Now with Jordon we have a team together and with Max ... Well, we have been racing together since we started international competitions. It is now more than 10 years.

I certainly grew a lot compared to the times of karting. But it's true, I've always been tough on the track. The only thing I've always had in mind, when I race, is to win! Just to say, I remember that on the Saturday before the race, we had a strong argument with Ben (Hanley, his teammate) over an accident. Fortunately, today, everything is just a memory, and every time we meet with Ben everything is fine, and I'm happy about that.

#series:f1 #format:interview #year:2020 #topic:charlesleclerckarts #charles leclerc

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vergess · 6 months

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(and I mean very lately, we're talking the last couple weeks at most) neonazis have started adopting the phrase to infiltrate Palestine rallies

hi, this is really bad and i hadn't heard about this before! Where can I learn more about it? there's a lot of bad faith info out there and I'm not sure who I can trust

Good instincts. Unfortunately, my claim relies currently on firsthand witness accounts from people I trust, along with two (2) private photos of neonazis (one wearing vests with nazi symbols, one with Nazi tattoos) participating in these sorts of rally.

The good(?) news is Nazis aren't subtle. Here's neonazi Nathan Damigo of Identity Europa fame, very publicly co opting the phrase last month:

https://www.adl.org/resources/blog/hamas-attack-draws-cheers-extremists-spurs-antisemitism-and-conspiracies-online

Here's more explanation on why this happens:

And more examples of the increase in outright white supremacist and neonazi groups attending these rallies:

And the phrase itself has always been popular with antisemitic hate groups, whereas its popularity in general spaces varies by year, in part because the simplicity of the chant leaves room for both peaceful and genocidal interpretations, serving as an ideal dogwhistle:

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locallyloathed · 1 year

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Error Code #1345 (Chapter 1)

Yandere!Ted x Schizoid!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

CW: None yet, but it’s an I Have No Mouth fanfic, so it’s gonna get dark.

Thanksgiving. A time for family and friends to all come together, to celebrate their successes, and to show appreciation for the lives they lead. Even a small gathering can bring people together and forge bonds that last for decades. Having a long weekend to spend relaxing and catching up with loved ones can be considered one of the fondest joys in the heart of any true-blue American.

That being said, I’m one menial conversation away from slamming my head into the kitchen counter. Spending a week in the ICU with a concussion has never seemed more appealing.

Most of the family is used to this. Those who grew up around me and watched me mature firsthand disregard my existence in the kitchen, all having congregated in the living room after the meal had come to a conclusion with no more than ten words spoken in my direction. They had learned by now that it was an exercise in futility to attempt to pull me into the room for a chat. Those a bit more distanced from me in my childhood had put in a good effort, but were disheartened by my apparent lack of interest and had left me to my own devices. One might think they’d remember my social shortcomings after so long, but they always seem to find a new sense of misguided hope by the time November rolls around. The new arrivals, in particular those who hadn’t been pulled aside and given the standard psychology lesson on the way in, were the only constant thorns in my side this time of year. Luckily, it’s limited to one this time around. Unluckily, unfounded perseverance seems to be a virtue of theirs.

“So, anything exciting planned for Christmas this year? Are you spending it with us? Your mom was showing me Christmas photos of the last few years, and her house and tree look so pretty! Do you help her decorate?”

Take the fucking hint already, Jesus Christ. My usual tactics of arriving last to avoid the pre-meal small talk and hiding in the kitchen to avoid the post-meal small talk are proving ineffective against the newcomer. I can’t even recall who exactly brought them. A cousin, I think? Something about them not having anywhere to go this year and not wanting to be alone? God forbid anyone make the decision to not spend all five days off cozying up to a crowd of people. If the prying into your personal life to see if you have a “valid excuse” doesn’t drive you mad, the social repercussions of them deciding you don’t will. I don’t know which is worse: the faux sympathy and invitations to borderline strangers’ Christmas parties, or the guilt trips and patronization from every extrovert in a ten mile radius.

I’m dragged out of my thoughts by a startling snap an inch away from my nose. Jumping, I pull my gaze away from the glass of wine I’ve been nursing for the last half hour to see this stranger staring me dead in the eye, as though expecting something from me. The two of us spend more than a few uncomfortable seconds having an impromptu staring contest. Upon realizing that she had no intention of breaking the silence, I raise my eyebrows, waving a hand to prompt her to say what she has to say.

The woman huffs. “Guess that’s a no.” When I don’t respond, awaiting elaboration, she crosses her arms and looks away toward the rest of the party as if pouting. “I asked if you were even listening. And clearly, you weren’t.”

Moving my own gaze back to the glass of wine, I mutter, “Not really, no.”

She looks back at me, a startled sound not unlike a laugh escaping her. “And what, you aren’t even gonna apologize?”

I move to take another sip of alcohol, preparing myself for the conversation I can already see coming. Licking my lips, I give a slight shrug. “Eh, wasn’t planning on it, no.” At her offended reaction, I continue, “If I wanted to chat, I’d be in there,” I move my glass in a vague gesture toward the living room. “With the others. If you want to chat, you should be in there, too.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to cheer you up,” she says, straightening up. “You spent the whole meal staring at your plate, and I thought you’d like some company.”

“Again.” A more pointed gesture to the other room, where a small wave of laughter compels me to wait a moment before proceeding. “Chatroom’s in there. I’m just waiting on a ride.” To emphasize this, I pull out my phone and hold it up to show her the confirmation from Uber that a car was on its way. I unlock the phone, begin to scroll mindlessly through a random app and take another sip of wine.

Unimpressed, the woman prods, “Why’d you even come if you were gonna be such a downer?”

“Free meal, free alcohol.”

“Unbelievable.” She scoffs. “Is that really all your family is to you?”

Heaving a hefty sigh, I shut my phone back off, shove it back into my pocket, and rub my face. I can feel the frustration in me approaching its boiling point, wishing more than anything for a moment’s peace. “Look, I’m really not in the mood to explain myself to someone I doubt I’ll even see again. Just leave me alone already.”

“No, enlighten me,” she presses, reaching to grab the wrist of my free hand. Sensing the movement, I jerk away, nearly spilling my drink. Her hand stops in its tracks, but the irritation on her face remains. “What’s your problem?”

“Right now, it’s you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“God, your cousin was right. You’re so fucking rude.”

“I’m rude?” Setting the glass on the counter, I meet her stare, incredulous. “You show up to my family’s party, play pretend that you’ve been friends with us for years, pester the one person in the party that doesn’t want to play along, and somehow, I’m the rude one?”

The woman appears taken aback, stunned into a temporary silence. Just as she begins to regain composure, a new voice enters the tense atmosphere. “What’s going on in here?” My cousin’s head pokes around the corner, eyes narrowing as she zeroes in on me. “What did you do?”

I roll my eyes with a silent huff. “I didn’t do shit. She just refused to take a hint.”

Disregarding my answer, she looks from me to the woman, she asks, “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” she blurts out, pointing at me in accusation. “I was just trying to be nice and they started yelling at me!”

My cousin turns her gaze back to me, glaring daggers, as if daring me to respond. I meet the cold stare with a face of stone. She pipes up, addressing her friend without looking at her, “Did they now?”

A chime rings out from my back pocket. I give it my full attention, turning on the screen to see an announcement that my Uber driver was out front. I let out a small hum, reaching for the forsaken glass of wine on the counter and taking a big swig before dumping the remainder of the lukewarm liquor down the kitchen sink. As I look up, I see the two women continuing to stare at me. I point a thumb in the direction of the front door. “My ride’s here.”

Shaking her head, my cousin fully enters the kitchen, wrapping an arm around the stranger and herding her away to the living room with the rest of the family. I wait a moment before following them, veering hard to the side to walk straight for the door. If anyone notices me leaving, they don’t say anything. I dig around in the closet for my jacket, tug on my boots, and grab the door handle before sparing one last glance at my family. Only one is looking my direction; my mother, her face nigh unreadable. Was it disappointment that shown in her eyes? Irritation? Resignation? Maybe even shame? Whatever it was, it makes my heart sink into my stomach. Wrenching my eyes away, I pull open the door and step into the cold.

Frost nips at my nose from the moment I leave the warmth of the house, leaving me to huff out a breath to keep from sneezing. The rather unseasonal snow drifting down is thick enough that I have to squint through it to see the telltale cloud of exhaust from my idling driver. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I awkwardly make my way through the piling snow built up along the pavement, careful not to misstep and tumble into the icy yard. I strongly doubt the Uber driver would be too keen on letting me into their car while I’m soaking wet, and I have NO intentions of going back into that house.

Upon my approach, the passenger side window rolls down, revealing a man who appears to be in his 50’s, maybe even 60’s. He hollers out my name, and I give a curt nod in response before doublechecking his own. With a smile, he reaches over to his door and I can hear the lock click open. I open the rear door, shivering, sitting down sideways to shake the snow off my boots before sliding in the rest of the way and shutting the door behind me.

“Lotta cars parked out here!” His voice is gravelly, and from the smell of cigarette smoke that seems to cling to the air, I can hazard a guess as to why. “Must’ve been a hell of a party!” I glance up after buckling my seatbelt to see him looking at me through the rear view mirror. Just when I thought I might get some quiet time…

“Something like that,” I say, leaning back against the headrest. I begin to sort through my mental list of excuses to get strangers to leave me alone. I hated every second? Raises way too many invasive questions with no “right” answers. It was actually a funeral? High risk of pity, and I don’t have the energy to keep that lie going if he presses me. Deciding nothing beats the classics, I close my eyes and say in my bleariest tone, “Gave me a hell of a headache to match.”

I hear him give a sympathetic hum and put the car in drive, feeling the car strain momentarily against the piling snow before shifting forward onto the road. “That’s a shame. I won’t bother you none, then. You just get you some rest.”

Thank god.

I turn my head toward the window, cracking my eyes to watch the buildings roll past. Most of the windows are dark, and the driveways barren, only for one to appear fully lit up with a caravan parked in the front yard. I muse over the emotions in each packed home as they go by. If I try, I can see it in my head; moms and their sisters gossiping as they clean up the dinner table, older cousins trying to scare the younger ones before getting smacked in the head by a grandparent, uncles all sitting in the living room laughing up a storm at some half-baked comedy show on tv, moody teenagers hiding away in some corner to avoid the others.

Huh. I was one of those teenagers once. A lot of my cousins were too. So why did it only stick to me? The houses become less focused as I retreat further into my head. I know the clinical reasons, of course. Emotional neglect, abandonment issues, unlucky lot in the genetic lottery, all the good stuff. But it feels… unfair. I don’t want to be like them. I like my life. I like having my routines, and my privacy, and my own little fortress of solitude. But, then there are times like now, when the introspection that usually keeps me entertained makes me face a fact I try to avoid: I... want to want to be like them.

The little voice in the back of my mind that I’ve gotten good at snuffing out rears its head, trying to make me want to try and socialize, make me want to be all smiles and laughs in the living room with my family. It always re-emerges this time of year; just something in the air, I suppose. I tried to satiate it when I was younger, but it always felt like I was just playing a part to appease the people around me, and the overall experience just left me more bitter than ever. The voice shut up for a good long while, but when the time comes to stand amidst sparkling lights and the chill of the first snow, it crawls out of hibernation, begging, pleading for something more than an empty home and a solitary existence.

But, like always, I beat it back with rationale until it finally concedes, slinking it back into the recesses of my mind. I’m like this for a reason. People are fickle at best and plain exhausting at worst, and the less of them I have in my life, the better for everyone. Is it lonely? Sure. Humans are social creatures, and my nature runs counter to all the programming my DNA has. The hand I’ve been dealt sucks, but it’s what I have, and I’m gonna play it.

I mull over these thoughts for the duration of my ride, the blurry, meaningless silhouettes along the road pulling me deeper into my thoughts before forcing me back out as the car pulls to an abrupt stop. As I blink the haze from my vision, I make out the outline of my home, which appears almost foreign in the bleak lighting and heavy snowfall. The driver turns to me and says something that I don’t quite catch, dragging me all the way back to consciousness. Sitting up and stretching, I ask, “Sorry, what was that?”

The old man grins. “That good a nap, huh?” A soft, wheezing laugh forces itself through his throat, dying out as he notices my lack of response. “Just checkin’ that this is the place. Look right to you?”

With a curt nod, I unbuckle my seatbelt and double check my pockets. Phone, check. Earbuds, check. Bag of sweets discretely swiped from the party, check. Assured that it’s all there, I move to open the door, the cold wind forcing its way into the space. The shudder that makes its way up my stiff spine feels almost painful, garnering a brief wince of discomfort.

A spared glance at the rear view mirror reveals the man’s face, twisted into a look of concern. “You sure you’re alright there? Awful weather, and between you and me…” He turns in his seat to face me proper, leaning in as if to tell me a secret. Against better judgement, I lean in as well as he murmurs, “I’m gettin’ a real bad feeling something awful’s brewin’. Feel it in my bones.”

Sunken eyes bore deep into my own, and his wrinkled face reveals no trace of jest. Instead, as I sit in the cold, I find myself meeting a gaze of trepidation and pure, animalistic fear. Another shiver, not from the atmosphere outside the car, but from the one within it. Forcing myself to look down, I’m careful to keep the anxiety out of my voice. “I appreciate the concern, sir, but I can handle myself.”

He doesn’t look convinced. But, the icy wind seems to have finally reached him, snapping him out of his reverie. The stranger nods, straightening up in his seat. “Reckon you can. Yes, I reckon you can. Even so, you just be careful, you hear?” Eager to get into my warm home and out of this bizarre conversation, I give a hum of acknowledgment before fully sliding out of the car. I can almost feel the man taking a breath to continue, and I hasten to slam the door behind me and make for the front door. As I unlock it, the car’s headlights leave my peripheral, followed by the grumbling sounds of the engine. Finally, some peace and quiet.

Trudging my way through the entry way, I kick off my boots, take off my coat, and toss both haphazardly into the front closet. I shut the door and lean my forehead onto the cold wood, feeling as if my head were made of lead. Just as I think I may fall asleep standing up, the soft patter of footsteps and a deep chirp bring a tired smile to my face. On cue, a large black cat trots into the foyer, and I watch in bemusement as his furry, upside-down face pops out between my feet, staring up at me and giving a louder, more demanding chirp.

With an exaggerated sigh, I lift up the hefty animal, holding him close to my chest as he begins to rumble in approval. “Hey, bud,” I murmur, rubbing his side as I take a moment to appreciate the serenity. The cat wriggles in my arms to look me in the eye, and as I blink lazily at him, he melts further into my hold. I give him a soft squeeze, and receive a slight indignant chirp in response. I chuckle as I stroll into the kitchen, confirming that his food bowl is nearing empty. “Always just want something from me, don’t you?”

Thoroughly unamused by my deadpan accusation, the cat struggles in my arms. I release him, letting him thump to the floor and watching him patter over to the food cabinet, working in futility to open it despite his lack of thumbs. I move him to the side with my foot to grab the bag and nearly trip into him as I begin to scoop the pellets into the feeder. Going through the familiar process of filling up his bowl lulls me further into sleepiness. I entertain the notion of showering, washing my face, curling up in bed, but every step of my usual process feels daunting when weighed against my exhaustion. Deciding to do none of that, I instead stop to run my hand down my cat’s back as he chomps away, relishing in the soft purrs he emits. “Good boy.” I know he can’t understand me, but I like to think he knows what I mean.

As my mind continues to unwind, the old man’s strange warning staggers into my brain, and I feel my stomach twist slightly. He was just messing with me, right? Just a weird old guy that gets a kick out of telling spooky stories to strangers to freak ‘em out. Creeps like that are a dime a dozen around here, and getting all anxious over their words is just giving them what they want. No matter how much I reassure myself, every blink conjures an imagine of the fear in his eyes, leaving me with an empty sense of dread deep in my soul.

The feeling of something bumping onto my knee pulls me back. The cat appears to have finished eating and has now taken to rubbing against me, nearly knocking me over in my unbalanced crouch. A huff of a laugh escapes me as I give him a good scratch behind the ears. Pushing myself off the ground, I stumble into my living room, flopping down onto the couch. I barely have time to flip onto my back before a solid weight lays itself across my stomach. I debate moving him to change into something more comfortable than jeans and a thick winter shirt, but the soothing rumbles against my body shut down that train of thought quickly. My eyes, already tired from the evening’s events, drift closed without a fuss.

I don’t know how long I spent unconscious, whether it was a few minutes or several hours, but I do know the pain of a fifteen pound cat launching itself off my stomach startled me back into the real world. Claws graze the flesh of my stomach as I hear the solid slam of him hitting the floor and scurrying towards the kitchen. Bolting upright, I squint in the darkness, trying to locate the shadow that almost managed to scratch me through my shirt.

I catch a glimpse of bright green eyes, wide and unblinking, darting around the room as though to catch a glimpse of an unseen predator. This is an animal that has gotten into fights with dogs ten times his size and launches himself onto the kitchen cabinets with nary a thought, and he’s never once looked as small and vulnerable as he does in this moment. Concern courses deep in my body, and I drag myself off the couch to approach him. Crouching down to his level a few feet away, I begin to coo in a sleepy tone. “Buddy? You alright?” As my eyes adjust, I can make out his rough shape, his long fur sticking straight out, making his already considerable silhouette even bigger. When he doesn’t come any closer, or even seem to acknowledge me, concern begins to curdle into dread. “What’s wrong, bud? What hap-“

The earth shudders and groans deep beneath my feet, knocking me off balance and sending me crashing to the hardwood floor and sending the cat into another fit of hysterics. I regain my wits, scrambling to my feet and stumbling to the kitchen window to scour the dark world outside for a hint as to what just happened. Car alarms blare in surround sound, and I see several lights turn on in windows adjacent, but nothing appears to have caused such a sudden disturbance. I can feel the ground begin to rumble again, less powerful, but unstopping. I rush to my front door, hands tripping over each other as I rip open the closet to pull on my coat and fumble with my boots before stepping out into the pandemonium.

The alarms are louder now, filling the world with a piercing shriek as if the air itself were a wounded animal begging for release. I watch from the porch as neighbors stumble out into the deep snow, some with sobbing children clutched in their arms, others wielding guns as if they planned on shooting the freak earthquake to death. At least, I think it’s an earthquake. What else could it be?

At that moment, with a blinding flash of light, I watch in frozen horror as an explosion emerges in the distance. An invisible wave is sent hurtling towards my neighborhood, and I barely have time to brace myself against the doorframe as it washes over me. My very existence is shaken, my ears left ringing, but I can hardly complain as I watch those around me drop to the ground in an instant. I barely have time to process whether they’re even still alive before my eyes are drawn to that distant light once more, and the ache of sheer, existential terror that crashes over me is second to none.

The undeniable, expanding silhouette of a mushroom cloud forces itself deep into my soul.

Unable to look away, I watch the nightmarish blemish on the night loom closer and closer to my home. The rumbling is deeper now, as though taunting me. In what I imagine are my final moments, I throw a mindless prayer into the void: someone - an angel, a god, a demon, I don’t care - please, someone, anyone, help me!

For a silent, terrible second, the world goes still. I feel the ground beneath my feet tremble, and then I don’t feel it at all. The terrors I bear witness to fall away. Or, rather, I fall away. Air whizzes past my face at such an immense speed it hurts my eyes. The light, much further above me that it should have ever been, illuminates my environment, if only for a second. It’s not rocks or dirt that line the inexplicable chute I find myself in.

It’s metal. Rusted, corroded, warped metal. And there’s no end in sight.

As instantaneous as it arrived, the light is snuffed out as I register the slam of said metal crashing together above my head. I guess that’s one problem solved, but I struggle to celebrate my newfound “safety” as I continue to hurdle down into the depths of the earth. The only things racing faster that the wind in my ears are the questions in my brain.

What happened up there?

Who saved me?

Where am I going?

Why do I feel like I’m the unlucky one?

The rapid fire questions, the sudden disturbance of my sleep, and the sheer shock of it all makes me dizzy. As I feel myself lose consciousness, I get the feeling something awful is brewing.

I can feel it in my bones.

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