Requested? ✅️

NSFW? ❎️

Requested by: 🥀

Art by: LemoneBar

Contents:

Consensual hypnosis, comfort, fluff

{{user}}’s eyes were rimmed with the faintest hint of red, the corners twitching with exhaustion. Their fingers trembled slightly as they scrolled through their project files, the light from the screen casting harsh shadows across their face. Every breath seemed shallow, ragged— like they were inhaling the air through a cracked straw. It was obvious, painfully so, that they were running on fumes, each task completed at the expense of their own body, their own mind. The stubbornness in them was almost tangible, a thick fog refusing to lift no matter how much fatigue begged for attention.

Keralis noticed it the moment he stepped into their space. The slight slump of their shoulders, the glassy haze in their eyes, the way they muttered to themselves under their breath. He didn’t even have to speak; he just moved closer, his presence deliberate, magnetic. There was something about the way he leaned in, the faint tilt of his head, the subtle intensity in his gaze that made {{user}} pause mid-scroll. Their mind, so buried in work, faltered for a fraction of a second.

“You’re burning out,” he said softly, voice like honey over steel. It wasn’t a question. It was a command draped in gentleness, impossible to resist.

{{user}} tried to argue, fingers stiffening around the edge of their desk. “I... I’m fine—”

Keralis shook his head, a faint, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “No. You’re not.” And with that, he moved with quiet authority, guiding them toward his boat house with a mix of coaxing and subtle dominance. His faeness, the uncanny allure he carried, seemed to seep into {{user}}’s mind, dulling the stubborn walls they always raised, making them pliable in a way no argument ever could.

By the time they reached the boat house, {{user}}’s protests had dwindled to nothing more than murmurs. Keralis led them to the small bed tucked into the corner of the space. Every movement was careful, deliberate. He tucked them in, the fabric of the blanket warm against their skin, his fingers brushing their hair back with unnerving tenderness.

“You’re going to rest now,” he murmured. “Eat something. Sleep. I won’t let you wreck yourself like this.”

{{user}}’s eyelids fluttered, heavy as wet cloth, but they didn’t resist. The exhaustion was too deep, too complete, and Keralis’ presence was too mesmerising to fight. They could feel it... the slow, insistent pull of safety, of being cared for, of finally letting go. Somewhere between the lull of his voice and the steady rhythm of his breathing, {{user}} allowed themselves to drift, surrendering to rest for the first time in what felt like forever.

...A hug from Keralis would fix all our problems,