#Like the assignment is about a record on my personal experiences and to why I chose my major

[watcherwingedcat]

Seriously considering mentioning my nonhumanity casually in a college essay

[kiddiewrites]

First Post

Sooooo this is the first fanfic I write, the current obsession is Call of Duty. Have I ever played the game?? No. Am I gonna play the game? Yes, I've downloaded the mobile version :D. Do the characters match their game personality? Probably not, the only source I have of them are other fanfics and edits I saw on tiktok JAJAJAJA.

Angst, T.F.141 x reader, Platonic!T.F.141 x reader, HURT, bit of OOC T.F. 141, pining!reader, bit of a sad ending, drunk confessions, overheard conversations, PAAAAAAAIIIIN (maybe I’m just projecting Enlgish is my second language so please be kind xd

PART 2

∞ Command me to be well ∞

“There is no sweeter innocence, than our gentle sin”

In all honesty, you weren’t supposed to be there. You should’ve been in the med bay, you should’ve been filing reports on the last mission and updating medical records.

You’ve been assigned to Task Force 141 as their base doctor, having no experience in the field you remained back in HQ until they came back from deployment. You quickly realized they didn’t fully trust you as a doctor, whether it was due to your civilian background or a misjudgement of your abilities, you never knew and frankly you didn’t want to. You tried not to be a bother, you knew their job was hard as it was, so you tried a friendlier approach, making sure to try and interact with them if even at a minimum. 

Instead, you were faced with a hard cold truth, one that you hoped had vanished with a few friendlier words in your direction… you weren’t wanted.

Time seemed to move slower as the last few minutes replayed in your mind. 

The guys were sharing a much needed drink after a rather difficult mission. Letting the façade fall down for a bit, the whiskey loosening tongues and bringing to the surface feelings that could no longer be held down.

You were walking down the hallway that led to Price’s office, a bit of a pep to your walk and a container of baked goods in one hand and the files that needed his signature on the other. You knew they’d be a bit peckish after their mission so you thought ahead and brought some pastries that you knew they liked, even though Simon always said that those were more sugar than bread. In an instant the door to the Captain's office was at reach so you balanced the files over the container. 

-She’s jus so fecking annoying, y’know ?-

You stopped right when you were about to knock on the door, hand midair. 

-I ge’ tha’ we’re suppose to get along seein tha shes the fecking doctor- 

What?  Your breathing stopped and your body shivered

-Bu’ I jus can’t seem to tolerate’ er- the voices seemed a bit muffled by the closed door but still the volume was loud enough for you to hear… Listening as you stood there frozen, wishing that you couldn’t. 

-C’mon Johnny, she can be a bi’ annoying, sure.- Ouch 

-Bu’ she does ‘er job properly and at the end o’ the day, tha’s why she’s ‘ere fo’. - 

Kyle seemed to try and reason with him but even his own voice sounded strained. 

The beating of your heart going wild with every second that passed, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. They couldn’t refer to you right? Maybe, maybe it was someone else on their mission…

-Y/N does a good job, lads.- That’s the captain’s voice… Fuck…

-I get tha’, is jus… she keeps sticking t’ us like feckin glue everywhere we go- Oh no…

The tears were freely flowing now, not wanting to believe what you were hearing, sure you weren’t the most serious person but you never thought that would be a problem, specially after everything you’ve done with and for them. 

-Maybe you’ should stop inviting ‘er everywhere with us then- 

-Is no’ like I want to, Lt.  Bu’ she jus… pops ‘ere everytime I try and talk to all o’ you .- 

“Maybe I should go… But… my legs are not moving” 

-S’ your fault for flirting wi’ er when she came roun’ the firs time- Kyle was annoyed, months of interaction helping you to recognize the tone in their voices.

-Y’kno tha’ he does tha’ to everyone.- Simon sounded so sincere that you couldn’t help to feel stupid, as if you were just a joke. Another one of the bunch… 

-Lads, c’mon… She’s jus’ doin her job- Price was tired and he could already feel a headache starting to form in the back of his head.

-She’s a nice girl, ‘sides you kno’ tha’ i couldn’ stop Laswell for saddling ‘er with us- 

That was it, you never thought that they didn’t want you. They were a bit standoff-ish in the first few weeks or so but that was because they didn't know you… right? They were a tight-knit group, it was perfectly natural to not trust an outsider with their health, right? 

They became friendlier in the last weeks, actually letting you patch them up rather than doing it themselves when you weren’t in the med bay. The first one that apparently seemed friendly to you was Johnny, making you blush with his flirtatious ways but at least making you glad that he was starting to open up a bit, Kyle and Price being a bit on the quiet side but at least no longer just completely silent while you fixed them up and Simon… well he was still not talking to you or acknowledging you.

Knowing that all of your efforts were for nothing made you feel useless, it had nothing to do with your job, you knew you were good otherwise you wouldn’t have been assigned to the 141. 

So with a deep breath and a new goal in mind,  you turned away and left files in one hand and a slightly crushed box of pastries.

“In the madness and soil, of that sad earthly scene”

You didn’t sleep a wink since that moment, pouring yourself over the medical files that needed your approval for final submission.

You were so deep in thought, that you didn’t hear the knocks at your door, only looking up when you heard a cough to get your attention. 

There stood your captain, looking very tired and you already could see the headache seeping into his usual calm demeanor. 

The urge to offer him a tea cup or a mild remedy for his head crossed your mind, he looked really tired but after what you heard last night you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

- Is there something you needed, captain?- your voice came out a little bit tired and sharper than usual, something that didn’t went unnoticed by the captain

-Yeah, kid. The reports from the last mission, do you have’ em?- He narrowed his eyes a bit at you, as if trying to figure out what happened. 

-Sure, let me get them for you- you stood up and moved to the cabinet next to your desk, there you took them off next to where the box of pastries remained intact and went ahead to give the to  the captain. 

- Here, all of the medical procedures and recent injuries are already stated. All they need is your approval so your medical history can be updated in due course- 

You handed him the files and turned to look at him, his face was a mix of confusion and slight annoyance. This side of you was new to him and he didn’t quite like it, where once you were all smiles and cheerful disposition now stood a sad look and a blank face, as if the very sunshine was taken from you. 

-Is everything all righ’, kid?- he found himself asking, you sighed loudly and headed back to your desk.

-Don’t worry about me, captain. Is just a rough patch, that’s all- You sat down and started to go over the files laid out before you.

-Alrigh’, if you need anything…- he watched you for a few seconds and then turned away and left.

A sour mood was felt across the base and from the interaction each of them had with you over the course of the week … there was definitely something wrong. 

Johnny tried flirting with you, but instead of being all giggles and blushing mess you just looked at him with a tight lip smile and continued as if he never talked to you, even when Kyle came in to your office for a quick fix up of his most recent stitches you remained completely silent, only talking to give him instructions on how to take care of his injuries and when to take his pain meds. Price’s office was a bit quieter than usual, without your usual self trying to warm up to him with an equally warm cup of tea or coffee in hand to help him through his headaches, even Simon felt the shift in your behavior, when crossing in the hallways or the break room being greeted with nothing more than a call of his rank and quickly leaving. 

The boys went into the cafeteria that same week and were surprised to see that while to the other soldiers you were still friendly and smiley, to them you were nonchalant and seemed almost way too professional. And that was upsetting everyone, so when you finished your lunch and went back to your office, files and coffee in hand they all decided that enough was enough.

You hadn't even finished entering your office when the four men burst in right behind you. You turned around with a scared look and a squeak of surprise at the sudden intrusion, the coffee almost falling from your grip and the files clutched to your chest. The boys all looked at you with a mix of annoyance and betrayal and you felt small, very very small. 

-What the hell is wrong with you?- your voice was a bit raised from the fright you were still recovering from, as you walked to your desk to leave the files and the coffee, Johnny spoke up. 

-Us? Wha’ e’ ‘ell is wrong wit you?- You turned around with a very deep frown etched into your face. 

-What are you talking about? You’re the ones that burst into my office like a pack of wild animals.- A very annoyed Johnny stepped right up until he was face to face with you. 

-Johnny calm down, mate.- Gaz’s voice was heard over Johnny’s loud breathing. 

-No, no’ until she’s told us jus’ wha’ in the living fuck is wrong- His voice was dangerously low, and it was fucking terrifying. 

-First of, back the fuck off, sargeant. I may be just a bloody fucking nuisance but i’m a doctor and I will break every bone in your body while naming them- A surprised look flashed through everyone’s faces, you’ve never talked to them like that before, and when Johnny didn’t seem to back off, you pushed with all your might and managed to make him to stumble back a bit. 

At that moment Ghost approached him and held him before he could fall, but the look he gave you, was right down murderous. A chill ran down your spine and your instincts screamed at you to run but your legs didn’t seem to work. Price at seeing the angry look on both of your faces quickly stood in front of everyone and yelled at both of you to cut it out. 

-Y/LN, you’ll apologize this instant or you’ll be subject to a reprimand for assaulting a ranking officer.- Price knew at the moment those words left his lips… he’d fucked up. 

-Excuse me?- You turned to look at him, furious. The nerve of these men…

-You think that you can burst into my office, to then demand an answer for which I do not know the fucking question to and THEN reprimand me for protecting myself against a man that got way into my personal space?- 

Your voice was raised, you were very very pissed off and the boys knew it, they knew they weren’t the best when it came to you, almost neglecting your care due to years and years of trust issues. They knew it wasn’t fair to you, but still when the only ones taking care of them were themselves, they just couldn’t trust you completely.

- I have tried SO hard to have you guys to trust me, GOD KNOWS I’VE TRIED and you won’t let me.- You felt the tears well up in the corners of your eyes and the faces of shock in the squad just made you feel worse. 

You hated yourself for crying, but the anger in you, the betrayal and the sadness were all out there now, so might as well just tell them everything. 

-I know I’m pathetic to you, I know that you think I’m… how you put it, Sergeant MacTavish?- At the mention of his name he looked up at you - “so fucking annoying”, I think was the term used.- His eyes widened, he knew exactly what you were talking about and the others seemed to remember the conversation they had a few days prior. 

-You’ eard o’r conversation?- Gaz seemed a bit angry and confused, how the hell could you have heard them if you weren’t supposed to be in the building. 

-Yes… I know it was wrong… I needed the captain’s signature on all of your files so your medical records could be updated..- The realization dawned on the captain, that’s why you were so down the next day… You heard everything. 

- But… I guess it was ultimately for the best- Your voice a whisper as you looked at them. 

-If you’re that unsatisfied with my care, I’ll ask the brass for a transfer.- The determined look on your face was like a slap in their faces, you were really going to leave them. They needed to fix this but neither of them said anything, you took a deep breath and left the office, leaving the four men standing dumbfounded in your office.

“What in the actual fuck just happened?” a thought, accompanied with the memory of utter anger and sadness in your face that will hunt the squad for the rest of their lives. 

They needed to fix it… soon. 

“Only then I am human, only then I am clean”

SOOOOOOO this was my first piece, i'm really sorry if it’s not the best so please forgive me jajaja.

If you liked it please like and reblog, I would like to keep writing and knowing you like it will make me very happy.

Jejejeje feedback is appreciated <3

[blitzyn]

rookie mistake

dottore x m!reader

Request: Requests are open right? I hope so 🤞 Would I be able to ask for a sub!(male/amab)reader X dom!dottore? With some blackmail and coercion, preferably leaning towards dubious consent but I’m am a-ok with non-con elements, with a fatui/subordinate reader? If you could add in a small scene of him continuing while talking with someone outside the door that’s be awesome 😎 - Anonymous

Synopsis: You accidentally invade Dottore's office in search of intel.

a/n -> yall i know that i said i was on the fence about writing for genshin, but it was dottore and i love him plus i really liked this idea despite it having collected dust in my inbox for decades. whoever requested this: i love your mind and im so sorry it took me forever to decide to write this!! but just a reminder to whoever sees this, i will not be writing for fontaine unless stated otherwise!!

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> non-con, blackmail, coercion, blowjob, deepthroat, literally getting caught, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, standing doggy position, fatuus/infiltrator reader, guys he calls you a rat because you're a spy, not beta read

Your job was straightforward. But it was also one of the most grueling missions you've ever been assigned to.

With your status as an elite spy, you were tasked with infiltrating the Fatui as one of their ranks to gather information regarding the locations and purposes of specific forts to prevent potential attacks and keep the organization from acquiring knowledge valuable to their cause.

There was absolutely no room for error, lest you get caught and pay for that mistake with your life.

Fortunately enough, the mask everyone was required to wear (with the exception of the Harbingers) concealed your identity, allowing you to execute your orders with relative ease. Of course, it wasn't completely simple. You had to fight your way up the ranks in order to even get a hint of the plan from your superiors, which took years to even get recognized for your efforts.

Several times have you had to go against your moral compass. Several times, you doubted your abilities and questioned if you were even making a dent in the Fatui's plans. Although, when you heard a faint argument due to a lack of resources, you knew you were on the right track.

But one day, you noticed that an agent's office door was left unlocked. There was no one in the hallways, and not a soul knew that you had stolen an important document that recorded data for some valuable supply that you didn't care enough to read about.

Making sure you tucked the paper deep inside your coat pocket, you strained your ears to ensure you were alone before taking the risk and entering the isolated office. It looked like your standard room. Boring, silent, and strangely barren of many decorations. You took a moment to inspect the area before deciding to take a step forward when your blood suddenly ran cold.

"I don't use this office very often," a voice said from behind you. You just about jumped out of your skin, swiveling your head to the person behind you. It took you a moment to put a face to the name you'd heard so many times before, but when you did, you quickly regretted your decision to search for any additional information. "But even so, don't you think it's rude to invade someone's personal space?"

You froze, unable to find the right words. Nothing could explain why you were currently snooping around in an office that wasn't yours—much, much less when it belonged to the Second of the Eleven Harbingers.

You inwardly cursed your naive eagerness to do more than you were asked. Your years of experience as a spy should've kept you from making such a rookie mistake, and now all your work was going down the drain.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, fighting the urge to fidget at the overwhelming feeling of his gaze on you, analyzing your appearance. He broke the silence with a hum, neither intrigued nor entirely disappointed.

"I have heard others spread rumors of a mole within our ranks but thought nothing more of their words as an excuse for their inability to secure our resources," Dottore mused, raising a hand to his chin. "I assume that the mole is you?"

You couldn't bring yourself to reply. Your throat was dry, and your stomach twisted into knots. Not that he cared.

"I must applaud your efforts," he said, a slight smirk decorating his pale face. "Not many people evade our eyes so easily, and for as long as you have."

"But, a word of advice—" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar device. He presented it to you, watching in amusement when you suddenly patted yourself down before looking back up towards him. It was the device you used to contact your organization. "—Make sure you clean up after yourself. It's impolite to leave your items lying around."

You don't remember dropping it or forgetting it somewhere. But that didn't matter anymore. You were stuck in the present with no way of getting out of this situation.

He flipped the device over, dully inspecting it as he continued talking. "After going through your data log, it wasn't hard figuring out what you were going for next. While this normally wouldn't spark any interest in me, this resource just so happens to be vital in my current experiment, and I can't have you tampering with my results."

He walked forward, stopping just a few feet in front of you. He was close enough for you to inhale his scent of sterile rubbing alcohol and metal. It made your nose burn as you watched him intently, tensing and fighting the urge to back away out of fear of angering him somehow. The document in your pocket felt unusually heavy.

"Although, I didn't expect such a seasoned spy like yourself to make such an amateur move," he hummed, ignoring your need for personal space to pull your mask off. And you were helpless against it all. "[Name] [L.Name], is it? Why don't you read the paper you have right now?"

That's when you knew you fucked up big time.

With a shaky hand, you reached into your coat pocket to pull out the report, unfolding it only to realize that it wasn't a report at all. It was a blank piece of paper. But you could've sworn there was writing on it when you grabbed it earlier!

He could see the confusion on your face clear as day as a laugh left his lips, tapping a rolled-up piece of parchment on the tip of your nose to regain your attention. "I believe this is what you're after." With a flick of his wrist, he unfurled the paper that contained everything you needed.

"What—" you gasped, briefly staring at your paper before looking back up.

"It's a shame you didn't think to check the ink before you took it," he said, faux disappointment laced in his voice before it reverted back to its normal tone just as fast. "The ink 'disappears' when subjected to anything higher than room temperature. When you put it in your pocket, your body heat, coupled with the insulation from your coat, affected the writing and turned it invisible."

Fuck.

He planned this out.

You swallowed nervously, taking a deep inhale to steel your nerves, even when it didn't do much to help you. "How... how long have you known?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Not long, really," Dottore casually replied, as if he didn't hold your entire life in the palm of his hand. "I caught you just in time."

"Now," he said with a voice that demanded your attention. Not that he needed to try, anyway. His very presence was almost impossible to ignore. "I'm willing to offer you two options. One, I hand this device over to one of my lovely agents and have them torture you for answers then promptly dispose of you. Or, two—" He waved the communicator in the air, taunting you. "—I have you make it up to me."

It was obvious which one you'd be more tempted to accept, but you knew that accepting an offer such as this from Dottore, of all people, was not a good idea. He knows he has you right where he wants you.

"The second one. I... I'll make it up to you." The words tasted like acid as you forced them out, watching a pleased smirk rise on his face.

"Good," he muttered mostly to himself. Leisurely, he turned around and walked towards the door, shutting it before refocusing back on you.

"Get on your knees," he ordered, placing his hands behind his back as he waited for you to move. He observed silently as you obeyed, staring at the floor in shame. "Crawl to me."

He sighed impatiently upon seeing the conflicted and perplexed expression on your face. "You want to be a rat so badly, don't you? So get down and crawl to me like one."

You were given no choice but to comply despite the absurdity of his request. Hanging your head, you inched forward as the cold, wooden floors painfully dug into your knees, stopping once the sight of his boots came into view. You held back a flinch when you heard the fabric of his clothes rustle as he leaned down to lift your head up by your hair, forcing you to your knees.

Instantly, your eyes zeroed in on the prominent bulge in Dottore's pants, making you painfully aware of what he wanted you to do next. With a suspiciously gentle tug, he brought you slightly closer to him. You could tell he was getting impatient.

"Well?" He questioned, a frown gracing his features. "You don't need instructions. Go on."

You glanced up at him with blatant disgust in your eyes before raising your hands to undo his pants and reveal his semi-hard cock. You suppressed a grimace as you held it in your hand, steeling your nerves just enough to be able to lick a stripe down the side. Flattening your tongue, you moved back up to take the tip in your mouth, letting your saliva slip past the corners of your lips to lubricate the rest of his dick.

You half-assed it all, not bothering to take it all the way down or, at the very least, use your tongue. However, Dottore caught on quick enough with an annoyed sigh. You supposed you shouldn't have been surprised when he tangled his fingers into your hair and shoved you down, but you were caught off guard either way.

You were embarrassed to hear a loud gag sound from you, choking and sputtering on his cock whenever the tip of it slid down your throat. You dug your nails into his thighs when he suddenly shifted and pressed the sole of his boot onto your dick, letting out a muffled cry that only served to please him. He made no move to rub it against you, simply keeping it firmly on your crotch—to keep you in line, you assumed.

You squirmed, internally cringing at the feeling of your drool seeping out the corners of your lips. Fluttering your eyes shut, you tried to focus on your breathing. In and out, in and out, in and—

"Don't look away," he said, refusing to give you a moment of respite, shoving his cock all the way inside your mouth, harshly tugging on your hair at the same time. He fucked your face, ignoring your sounds of protest as he battered your throat. He laughed at your struggle, entertained with the way your tears gathered at your lash line.

"Awh, is this too much for you?" He taunted, shifting his hand to the back of your head to push you down to the base. He sighed contentedly at the feeling of your throat tightening and spasming around him, gently rocking his hips. "You should've thought that through before you accepted the job."

With a painful tug, he pulled you off of his cock. A trail of saliva connected you to him, which you quickly broke when you turned your head to cough into your elbow. He ordered you to get up, unwilling to wait a second before he hauled you up by your arm impatiently. He effortlessly moved your body, pressing your cheek against the wooden door as he pushed on your back, forcing it to arch.

Deeming your position acceptable, he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pants to yank them down to your knees. Your breath hitched at the sudden change in temperature, refusing to lean back and seek any warmth from Dottore.

With one hand on your hip, the other strayed toward your ass, spreading it to inspect your hole. It took effort to keep yourself from fidgeting under his gaze, and you opened your mouth in a daring attempt to get him to hurry up when he suddenly spat on your hole, shoving two fingers inside soon after.

You let out a grunt, clawing at the door he had you lean against. It was an uncomfortably foreign sensation but you were in no position to struggle. A burning sensation emanated from your hole as his fingers forced their way inside, wasting no time to move in a scissoring motion. They brushed against a spot that sent sparks up your spine every so often, taunting you wordlessly.

"You're enjoying this," Dottore said, not as a question or comment, but as a statement. And the worst thing was, he was right. No matter how much your mind made you hate it, your body told a different tale.

You let out a displeased sigh, pressing your forehead against the cold door, not daring to make your words known. Not that he minded. He enjoyed forcing your reactions out of you just as much as having them given to him without a fight.

He made it known with a jab to your prostate, sending a shock up and down your spine so suddenly it nearly made your knees buckle. That was all he gave you before abruptly pulling away, leaving you uncomfortably empty until the quiet ptuh! sound of him spitting on his cock filled your ears.

Fuck. This was actually happening. And you had no way out.

In a last ditch effort to maintain your dignity, you tried to push yourself off of the door but was quickly pressed—borderline slammed—back down with a hand to the back of your neck.

"I don't think you'll enjoy the alternative," he said, the undertones of irritation and impatience evident in his voice. He squeezed the sides of your neck hard enough to ensure your compliance, nearly scowling when you shifted in place. "So be still and behave like a good little thing."

Without missing a beat, he lined the tip of his cock up against your slick asshole and pushed his way inside, forcing a strained cry from your throat. He made sure it hurt, purposefully moving slowly to make you feel every inch and vein.

You whimpered, trying to breathe and calm yourself down. The stretch fucking hurt and you instinctively shifted your hips forward in a futile attempt to ease the pain when Dottore held your hips to yank you back, shoving the last few inches inside you.

You let out a strangled groan, biting your lower lip to stifle your noises as searing pain tore through you. You breathed heavily through your nose, feeling the weight of disgust settle in your chest when you heard him sigh in satisfaction at how tight you were. You winced when he pulled out slowly, only for him to slam back inside with a loud slap.

You jolted, just about ramming your head against the door in surprise. You grit your teeth and pressed a hand against it as the wood audibly creaked and groaned under your weight when he began to move. You tensed upon hearing faint voices beyond the door, peering back over your shoulder in a pathetic attempt to get him to stop.

"W—Wait," you muttered, breath hitching. "There's someone outside...!"

"Then I suppose you're just going to have to be quiet," he replied with an upward quirk to his lips before angling himself in a way that made his cock press up against you just right. You were disgusted to feel heat beginning to pool in your gut, forcing moans past your lips no matter how hard you tried to stop them. You covered your mouth with a hand as you listened to the noises approach. Dottore was (somewhat) merciful enough to press his pelvis against your ass, though that didn't stop him from rocking his hips to cruelly grind his cock into your prostate.

"Dottore?" It took you a moment to process the voice as electricity shot up and down your spine, trying your damn best to stifle your whimpers. "Are you in there?"

It's Pantalone, you recognize.

"Yes. Is there something you need from me?" Dottore replied, shifting his hold on you to start shallowly thrusting. You squeezed your eyes shut, listening to the painfully loud squelching.

"Not at the moment. I thought I heard something... else," Pantalone hummed with a knowing tone, sending a wave of mortification through your body.

"Then if that is all, I'd prefer it if you left," Dottore said, his amusement clear as day in his voice. He didn't even try to hide it as he gave you a punishing thrust, the resounding slap mixing in with your moan as it echoed off the walls. "I'm busy."

A laugh came from behind the door. "Very well. I'll leave you to it."

Dottore refused to wait for him to leave when he started again, this time fucking you so hard you were convinced there'd be a bruise. His fingers dug into your skin, yanking you back in time with his thrusts.

Your legs shook and you bit your lip until you bled, but it hardly did a thing to silence you.

"Look at you," Dottore mused, reaching around to hold your aching cock in his hand. He gave it a squeeze before jerking off the top half, focusing on the tip. "You were never meant to be a spy. You'd be so much better off as my little pet, wouldn't you agree?"

You let out a loud moan, instinctively looking down. You didn't even realize you were so hard, but as you watched the head of your cock drool precum onto the ground, everything felt twice as intense.

"N—No!" You choked out, clawing desperately at the creaking door. "I'll never—I'll never be your pet!"

"No?" Dottore laughed, sounding so unbothered it sent a spike of fear through you, reminding you of just how fucked you were. Swiftly, he swiped his fingers over the tip of your cock before bringing his hand up to push them into your mouth, making you taste your precum. With the palm of his hand, he pressed it against your chin to force your head back.

You let out a groan, feeling the strain on your upper back and neck as you stared at him with fear and disgust.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," he reminded, pulling out the communicator with his other hand. He slightly shook it, taunting you. "Don't you remember that actions have consequences?"

He pocketed the device as he slid his hand away from your mouth to bring it to the back of your neck, holding it tightly as he harshly pressed you against the cold wood. The side of your face ached, but, much to your horror, the pain only went straight to your cock.

"So just stand there and enjoy it," he said with a groan, his dick pulsing rhythmically as he savored the sensation of your walls clamping tightly around him. "Don't fight how much you like this."

"I don-" Just then, he rammed his cock into your prostate over and over, reducing you into a babbling mess that only proved his point.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, ashamed that you loved the feeling of him so deep inside you, but you hated that it was him fucking you. You could feel the heat in your stomach intensify with each harsh thrust, feel the way your balls tightened in a way you knew you couldn't stop.

"Please..." you whimpered, weak against the wet slapping sounds that filled the office. "I don't want to...!"

You came with a whorish moan, arching your back as your cock spilled cum onto the floor. You could hear the sound of Dottore's laugh through the haze of your orgasm as sparks coursed through your veins, knees nearly buckling.

"Yes you do," he groaned, voice slightly strained. You could faintly hear his labored breathing the closer he got to his own orgasm, noticing the way his movements grew sloppier and weaker. He reached around again, jerking you off despite the lurking overstimulation.

You tightened, sending him right over the edge as he slammed his cock inside you a final time, pressing himself flush against your ass as he came. It was uncomfortably warm as he throbbed in time with each spurt, savoring the way you practically tried to milk him dry.

But he didn't let it last long as he pulled out with a satisfied sigh, enjoying the sight of you, shaky and vulnerable, before him. He graciously gave you a moment before commanding you to fix yourself, stepping back to adjust his own appearance.

"Now," he said, sternly, like he didn't just fuck you within a damn inch of your life. "Why don't you send a message to your organization stating that you're not going back."

He handed you the communicator with a smug smirk, relishing in your distress. Taking in a deep breath to steel your nerves, you accepted the device, reluctantly typing in a message before returning it back to him with regret written on your face.

"Oh, don't look so upset," he pouted, pocketing the device. You weren't sure when you'd see it again. "It'll be easier for you if you cooperate."

He made his way past you, opening the door, sending shivers down your spine at the sudden chill. "But right now, you have a lot of work to do."

cross-posted on ao3

[danieyells]

. . .I could've sworn I did Ritsu's already. Apparently not. Yuri's one of my favorites and he's the one I chose in the beginning so I'm saving his for when I'm a little better rested(I have Monday off because of another doctor's appointment, so that's the lastest i'll post it)

RITSU IS SO. . .I LOVE HIM. I'll rag on him a lot because he's so tunnel visioned and just like. . .repressed. And he needs to touch grass(figuratively) but also. . .when you've been set from childhood to work and care only for your work and only know your work. . .it's understandable that he is the way he is. . . .

The way he changes as his affinity goes up is very repressed too. . .but you can still see the change at the end a little. He's a very stagnant character. . .but still interesting to look into the mannerisms of.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Any self-respecting inspector would stay comfortably ahead of schedule—I suggest you get into the habit. Let's go—there's no time to waste."

dude this is the 'you've logged in for the first time today' dialogue why are you assuming that i must be late! rude.

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Did you check that notification yet? We could have a request from a client, so please do so right away."

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"I have been assigned to Sinostra, so I will not allow them to stand trial, no matter how villainous their actions. That is the Shinjo family policy."

"I shall ensure the Gala is held this year, and that Sinostra will wear the Laurel Crown. I have never made a promise I couldn't keep."

boy i can't wait for that to fall through--he, respectfully, needs the humbling.

"I've read the Compendium of Laws countless times since I was a child. Memorizing its contents is a rite of passage for the eldest son of the Shinjo family."

and somehow it ended up an artifact he can use as a weapon? I really wanna know what it does tbh.

"What business do you have with me? Please keep in mind that I charge 5500 yen per half hour for consultations, tax inclusive."

(roughly $35USD, although it's faster to just think of it as $55--) WE ARE BUSINESS PARTNERS. WHAT ARE YOU CHARGING A MFER FOR.

"As long as I have a notebook, my business cards, a binder, paper, and my voice recorder, I can handle the initial stages of any case."

i need my binder every day too ritsu.

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"{PC}. Are you aware of the responsibility your position as inspector entails? I suggest you tidy your appearance and wipe that vacant look from your face."

they do not need to be aesthetically in order to be inspector. as long as they're paying attention it may even be better to look vacant. lure them into a false sense of security. also it's easier to pay attention if you're comfortable, in my experience. . . .

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You've lost your notebook? Just a moment. ...At 9:04 AM, it was inside the photocopier. Yes, I do have that information recorded."

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Have you seen Taiga Hoshibami? Strange... According to my behavioral model, he should be in the casino at this time..."

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"At the end of each day, I compile information about every person I encountered in my notebook. It always proves useful eventually."

yandere adjacent behavior, except it's for everyone and not just one person lolol

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"The vice-captain has asked me to organize some documents. Let's start by making copies of everything in case the originals become lost or damaged."

Romeo has a line that references this as well!

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I always have my business cards on hand. It should go without saying—any lawyer who fails to gain their client's trust during the first meeting is not worth their salt."

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"A post-meal coffee must be drunk black. Unnecessary additives only interfere with the natural flavor."

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Until the age of three, I spent my days visiting the greatest sights the world has to offer with my mother, as from four my studies would prevent me from doing so."

is that child abuse? i think that's child abuse. you learn the source of ritsu's problems very early on in his affinity--he has had zero normal social interaction opportunities and no childhood. From birth until he stopped being a toddler he was just flying around the world looking at beautiful things, no stability in his location or world aside from the presence of his mother, and then he went home and probably basically got locked away to study law the moment he could sort of read. His whole existence was molding him to work. . .Subaru is similar, even down to what age they were forced to start preparing to work at. But Subaru is at least better adjusted, probably because acting awarded him better opportunities to try and think about how other people think.

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"According to my behavioral model, there is a 29% chance that Taiga Hoshibami is currently at the baccarat table."

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I review the day's coursework for two hours then prepare for the next day's classes for three— no more, and no less. Six more minutes of silence, please."

WHERE DO THE RECORDINGS COME IN TO THIS. This mans somehow has 40 hour days. Maybe his artifact slows down time or something lol

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"Good morning, {PC}. We have a meeting at 3 PM today, so please adjust your plans accordingly."

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Darkwick Rulebook Article 183: "For the protection of anomalies, unnecessary running indoors is prohibited." This rule has been in place for over one hundred years."

wait how old is this school? how old is the Institute???

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"All right. We need to organize our notes from today's investigation, so let's relocate to the diner. Our usual booth, of course."

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"The content of our classes may be novel, but I topped the year in the scholastic ability test—they are nothing I can't handle."

so among the first years' scholastic ability tests, Ritsu was 1st, Leo was 2nd, Sho was 5th. Considering there are only four new first year ghouls then that must include the general students too. I wonder where Ren placed? Probably not very high. But still, Ritsu is a genius. . .or at least very very good at memorizing information. Lots of book smarts, minimal other smarts.

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"As your business partner, I request that you improve your conduct. Please refrain from consenting to any further uncompensated labor."

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Our Anomalous Law classes are truly fascinating. There is a long history well worth learning about— though of course, I have already mastered the basics."

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I cannot afford to be complacent, even before bedtime. It's vital that I check the day's notes again to ensure nothing has been missed."

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I set time aside in the evening to watch opera performances online. It allows me to get my thoughts in order, and provides a change of pace."

when??? what time??? because he has to review all of the audio recordings and notes from the whole day--what time does he have to do anything in???

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I just finished checking my recordings from today. You sighed a total of four times— is something troubling you?"

i love the vibe of this. rather than silently nothing your sighing and potential exhaustion or scolding you for not caring for yourself, he expresses concern towards you. also, it's so soft yandere. like he already records everything you say and do, to confront you over it on top of that he shamelessly defends his recording and notetaking. . .if not for that he recorded everyone it would really be so yandere lolol. instead it's just his odd and overbearing way of showing he's beginning to care.

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"You struggle to get up in the morning? I can contact you each day at a set time if you like, but I'll have to think about how much to charge..."

affinity 20 and my guy still wants to charge for his time. . .we're gonna have to teach him to have A Singular Normal Social Connection aren't we. and we're probably gonna fail.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You wish to have lunch with me? All right. We are business partners, so I will accompany you free of charge."

wait maybe i spoke too soon.

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"This is for you, {PC}— it's the takeout coffee I often purchase. Your performance will decline if your mind isn't sharp."

his increased attachment is shown in the bare minimum of understanding normal human social interaction and caring for you by sharing his things and his time without charge. In trying to make you the best you(from his perspective) that you can be. Because that's what his parents did for him--so surely that's the best expression of love he has, aside from obsessive study and understanding.

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I feel we made solid progress toward the reinstatement of the Gala today. Let's reconvene again tomorrow and continue working together to realize our goal."

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Could I ask you to accompany me a little longer, {PC}? I realize it's outside of business hours, but...I would appreciate it if you could make a special exception."

He wants to spend time with you. And he's realizing he can just ask that. But he's so entrenched in legal and business mannerisms he doesn't know how to say "i want to be around you for longer". You're his business partner. It's bad form to request your attention outside of work, it has no value towards your goals and business efforts, but. . .that he's making a sort of formal appeal for your attention outside of work is as far as he can get in terms of expressing his affection right now.

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"It seems we make better business partners than I would have expected. I look forward to a long and prosperous relationship with you."

kind of comical that his max affinity line is still so formal after a more friendly 'please spend time with me late at night' 24th. . .but also, he wants you to be his business partner for longer. i think that counts towards something! It's a reason to stay with you! Maybe over the course of your business partnership he'll learn how to express deeper feelings. . .he's going to need an heir, after all--

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"There has been a noticeable increase in reports of suspicious activity of late. More incidents means more business. Be prepared."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"You have a petal in your hair. A little more to the right. No, not there. Just let me remove it. Hold still."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Indeed, the cherry blossoms are in bloom. Incidentally, Japan's oldest cherry blossom tree can be found in Yamanashi Prefecture and is estimated to be 2000 years old."

ritsu would probably kill at historical trivia night.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I had tempura at the cafeteria today. It didn't come close to the tempura I would eat with my father at the historic soba restaurant we used to frequent though."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"This one is for my face, and this is for my body. I have six handkerchiefs with me— enough for morning, noon, and night. I cannot let my opponents see me sweat."

why's this giving me ace attorney prosecutor energy. . . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I witnessed a half-naked man running around in this vicinity. Did you see him? He is risking a charge of indecent exposure."

but we saw Kaito in his underwear and you said that meant he wasn't at risk of indecent exposure. . . . . . . .

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"The warmer it gets, the more of a racket people make. Honestly, how were these people raised?"

to relax and have fun during the summer break. . .you should give it a try.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You want to go and watch the fireworks? A rather childish request, but all right. So? Where would one go to view them?"

FIREWORKS DATE FIREWORKS DATE just don't touch him without getting his consent first that could be counted as sexual harassment and he'll Get Your Ass.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"The weather is much more pleasant for going out on professional errands now. A first-rate lawyer keeps their boots on the ground. Now then, let's get going."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I object to the cultural assumption that fall is the season of the arts. The arts should be enjoyed throughout the year, regardless of the season."

you and yuri would get along well i think. until you realize the guy is a medical malpractice suit waiting to happen. then you'd criticize him and he would take that so poorly.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Once I've perused the relevant documents in the library, I plan on doing some reading. Please excuse me."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"The nights may grow longer in the fall, but daylight hours should not affect the time you rise and retire. I'll see you tomorrow."

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"I have detected a change in how Taiga Hoshibami divides his time since the weather has taken a cold turn. It has created quite a quandary for me..."

yeah he doesn't like getting out of bed when it's cold. he also eats a lot more, like a bear about to hibernate. shockingly behavior patterns tend to change with the seasons.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I've never experienced snowfall heavy enough to obstruct my movement, but I'd like to deepen my knowledge of the phenomenon for future reference."

to frostheim then! i'm sure that place is just awful for movement in winter.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm heading to the diner to fulfill a request from Ren Shiranami. Perhaps I shall enjoy a warm bowl of soup while I'm there."

. . .I wonder if this is an Obey Me!Raphael situation where he has no grasp of that the food is not good. . . .

(between 8pm and 5am)

"People say that hard work is the key to success, but it only took me a year to master German—as was the case with Italian and French."

His birthday: (January 13th)

"Indeed, today is my birthday. I've always celebrated this day by enjoying my mother's cooking, but from this year I am striving for a more self-reliant existence."

MAMA'S BOY MAMA'S BOY tbf up until he was 3 his mother was probably his only social connection and then he was locked away studying so. . .his mom is probably the only one he has like. . .personal feelings and attachment for. you'll be a tradwife too :) but also that he's trying to be more self-reliant at darkwick. . .that really does explain that he's like. not used to any sort of social interaction or doing things he hasn't been told to do by his parents. maybe in his time at darkwick he'll realize how good it feels to just. . .be a person. dedicate time to fun and relaxation. realize that work isn't everything. or maybe he'll be so judgemental towards the lifestyles of others he'll retreat even further into his current habits.

Your birthday:

"Happy birthday. A year older, a year wiser. I have high hopes for your performance in the coming year."

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. Let's devote these next 365 days—or 8760 hours—to finding fitting solutions to the challenges that come our way."

what if it's a leap year. can we take the extra day off?

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Thank you for the chocolates. Are you gifting them to me out of social obligation, or is this an expression of affection? Your answer will influence what you receive in return."

(for the uninitiated, that is very much a thing in Japan where on valentine's day a girl give some men in her life--like coworkers--obligation chocolates, which are generally not as nice and most likely store bought, although this practice is losing ground. friends get friendship chocolate and you give people you're actually attracted to or in a relationship more extravagant, expensive, or homemade chocolates to express your true feelings or a desire to be in a relationship with them. Ritsu is essentially asking 'is this because we're coworkers or are you asking me out' because White Day is the day for return gifts in response to given valentine's day gifts, and in the case of chocolates given to someone you wanna go out with they can act as a response to that proposal. presumably if you're asking him out he wants to give you chocolate to agree to get with you, since he's bothering to ask. . . .

White Day: (March 14th)

"White Day has its roots in Japan, having been invented by a certain historic confectionery shop. With that knowledge, please accept this."

'here's some trivia. and some chocolates. we are now in a relationship. should this be as fruitful as our business partnership, we can discuss marriage plans within the year.'

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"The spreading of false rumors is subject to strict punishment under Article 233 of the Penal Code. Do you still intend to continue this ruse?"

NO FUN ALLOWED.

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Coercing another party to choose between a "trick" or a "treat" could amount to intimidation. Engage in such festivities at your own risk."

NO FUN ALLOWED PART TWO: ILLEGAL BOOGALOO.

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Religious freedom is guaranteed by Article 20 of the Constitution. If this is a day that you wish to celebrate, then I will accept that."

he can't make you work on religious holidays you need off!!

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Five seconds have elapsed. Yes, that is how long you've kept me waiting."

(13 affinity and above)

"How long do you intend to keep me waiting? As always, I am on a tight schedule today. Please hurry up."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"I've been expecting you, {PC}. You weren't planning on breaking your promise to me, were you?"

SUCH A HARD-WORKING, SOCIALLY INEPT LAD. But Ritsu's a lot of fun, I give him a lot of shit and i desperately need him to touch some grass and get a reality check and learn about how others live and maybe experiment. . .but like i love him for being such a little shit. he's so. . .ignorant to the rest of the world and how other people are. . .i love seeing him try and dissect other people's behavior and intentions and coming to the conclusion that they must want the same things as him because he just. . .has no grasp of interests and intentions that aren't his own. . . . It makes me facepalm but also makes me laugh 8'D good boy. quality boy.

[techhasmjolnir]

Rites of the Covenant

Plot A: You're out on an extended scientific mission with Clone Force 99, assessing a planet for possible threats before the Republic moves ahead with plans for colonization. Damaged equipment leaves you and the squad stuck on the planet until replacements arrive.

Plot B: Hunter fulfills an intensely private mission of his own.

Author's Notes:

This is another one-shot story with a hefty word count (10,696). It features subject matter that is not intended for squeamish readers. The latter half of the story is roughly based on personal experience, although for the sake of entertainment, there is some embellishment. Please proceed with caution, and if you like what you read, please feel free to reblog!

Important Notes:

This content is strictly for audiences 18+. The roles in this story assume female readers and Hunter. Concepts introduced include: biting, blood, blood play, dirty talk, F oral (receiving), M & F masturbation, menstrual cycle, pain, PiV, and voyeurism (accidental).

The assignment was a relatively straightforward one – you, one of the Republic's leading scientists in the highly specialized field of bioacoustics, were to head to the planet of Eyyhá to record data and assess the feasibility of possible human colonization. Normally, a squad of regs would have been assigned to you for security detail and general assistance out in the field. However, this time around, you were left with questions when the word came down that a squad of specialist clone troopers – Clone Force 99 – would be accompanying you.

You found out that General Skywalker and Captain Rex were the ones who pitched the idea of giving you this assignment after your assistance helped the 501st locate a deeply hidden Separatist base that previously, no one was able to detect. You received the proper clearance, and the day you first met the squad still sticks out in your mind. Memories of Rex walking you up to the guys, who were casually waiting outside the Marauder for you to arrive... Remembering the looks each one of them gave you, particularly the tall silver-haired one, and the one with the facial tattooing; you assumed him to be the squad leader before he even spoke.

“Men, I'd like to introduce you to Dr. Y/N. She will be accompanying you on this mission to gather critical bioacoustic data that will ultimately lead to a decision as to whether Eyyhá can be colonized. You are to provide round the clock security and assist with any help she needs out in the field.”

The silver-haired one looked at you, an expression of contempt riddled upon his lips. “Just great...our talents being underutilized yet again for a civilian. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my bunk.” He picked up the large rifle at his side and walked into the ship. “Hunter, why are we even doing this?!” he said loudly, before disappearing.

“I'm really sorry about that,” the tattooed one spoke, his voice low and smooth. “That's Crosshair, by the way. Resident sniper, and usually a completely insufferable asshole. I'm Sergeant Hunter. I'm glad to meet you.”

“No offense taken, Sergeant. I've worked with regs before and gotten my share of snide remarks, but his was a bit much,” you reply, a little curtly.

“Please, call me Hunter. Everyone else does,” he said with a genuine smile. “Let me introduce you to the rest of my squad. The behemoth next to me is Wrecker, our demolitions expert. The one with the cybernetics and wearing the kama is Echo, who's new to the squad. The one who can't seem to be pulled away from his datapad for a split second, is Tech. Both Tech and Echo's electronics and engineering skills should be invaluable in the field.”

You smiled at the one called Wrecker, who caught your gaze and returned it with a light wave. “Glad to have you aboard, Y/N! If you need anything blown up, I'm your man!”

Hunter put his face into his hand, shaking lightly. You laughed heartily and winked. “I don't think there will be any real need for explosives on this mission, but you never know!”

Both Echo and Tech looked over at you. Echo smiled and gave you a salute with his scomp-link arm. “Welcome, Y/N. I'm looking forward to assisting you in any way possible.”

Tech looked up from his datapad and nudged his lenses up with a finger, nodding a few times in what you considered to be approval. “I have heard a great deal about you, Dr. Y/N. Your work as a bioacoustician is unparalleled. I read your last published journal...remarkable observations, I must say. I look forward to working with you, as well.” He glanced down at his datapad once more, tapping away at it absentmindedly.

Rex clapped his hands together once. “Excellent! You're in good hands with these men. You'd better be on your way. Intel we received indicates it will be best to land on the day side of the planet and establish a base camp. We know the planet is teeming with life, but the last thing you need are any unwanted surprises in the dark.”

“Then we'll take our leave, Rex. Let me take those cases from you, Y/N,” Hunter offered, picking up both the heavy black cases like they were nothing. “Good luck, everyone. May the Force be with you,” Rex called as Hunter took your belongings into the Marauder, Echo and Tech entering behind him, with you and Wrecker bringing up the rear.

Wrecker clapped you on the back a little too cordially, causing you to stumble with your overloaded backpack full of personal effects. He caught you just before you fell face first onto the entrance ramp, laughing loudly. “Sorry about that! Guess I don't know my own strength! I'm happy you're joining us. I don't know what bio... Uhh, bioac-- What is it that you do, again?”

You paused a moment, turning around to look at Rex, with his always handsome, stoic face. Raising your arm, you waved to him. He nodded once, then turned and walked off. Turning back, you looked up at Wrecker, feeling supremely tiny next to him. “I'm a bioacoustician, Wrecker. It means I study the sounds of nature, put simply.”

He nodded thoughtfully, and you knew he was trying to figure out exactly what you meant. “Well, I don't know what you'll do with all that, but it sounds kind of boring, if I'm being honest.” His remark caught you just the right way, making you laugh long and hard. “You're not the first one to say that to me, Wrecker. It's definitely not for everyone...”

His infectious laughter joined yours. “Come on, let's get you a bunk so you can settle in.”

*****

The mission was doomed from the very start. You quickly realized the intel was missing critical information that didn't prepare you or the squad for the horrific storms Eyyhá often has, and not long after you had set up base camp, some of the equipment had been struck by lightning. Cases of precious sensor arrays and receivers were mangled beyond repair, although you had Tech and Echo look at the blackened parts to see if anything was salvageable. They looked at you, and didn't even say anything...they just shrugged and gave you the look that clearly said, “sorry, you're shit out of luck.”

Thankfully you still had a few spares to at least get some work started, but without everything in place, it was rather pointless to start data collection. Your request to the Senate to return to Coruscant was denied after being told that despite how little functional equipment you had left, you needed to begin research immediately; a transport with replacement equipment would be sent as soon as you submitted a request with your needs.

Much to your chagrin, most attempts at field work have been rained out thus far, so you've spent more time hanging out with the guys in the Marauder than you have doing any actual research. They've certainly turned out to be a lot different than the regs you've worked with in the past. Very distinct personalities, senses of humor, personal habits... Hunter and Wrecker warmed up to you very quickly. Wrecker took to you so much, he affectionately started calling you ad'íka, while Echo and Tech took a little longer to come around, and Crosshair... You're still unsure of Crosshair.

Initially, you were afraid that being a woman, the risk of awkwardness or sexual tension would be quite high, especially since you were spending a lot of time in close quarters with them. Quite the opposite, actually...you get along with them very well, tolerating the light flirtation and off-color remarks better than you thought you would. You discovered just the level of respect they had for you the week you went through your period for the first time while on the mission.

You pulled Hunter aside just before you were due to start, and cautiously explained what was about to happen. At the time, you couldn't have known that he already knew, because the changes of your pheromones in the days prior, along with subtle behavioral changes, told him so. He was empathetic, offering to make up a makeshift bunk for you away from the others, if that's what made you feel most comfortable.

He explained that women worked alongside them on other assignments in the past, so he wasn't uncomfortable with the subject. Little did you know that those days leading up to and including you bleeding, would be some of the most arousing and tempting for Hunter. That was four weeks ago...

*****

Early this morning, you wanted to go exploring, extending the invite for the entire squad to join you. It finally stopped raining, and you wonder if this is just a temporary reprieve from what you believe to be Eyyhá's rainy season. Echo declined, offering to stay back at the Marauder, trying to think of ways to modify equipment to help you until the new parts come. The rest of the men were more than happy to come with you, grateful for fresh air and a change of scenery.

Here you are now, sitting in a field of tall prairie grass, swaying gently with the warm summer breeze. There's not much of anything you can do right now except scribble notes in your field journal about meteorologic observations and visible flora and fauna. After finding out replacements may take up to six weeks to arrive because your parts requisition request had been mishandled, you resigned yourself to the fact you might have to chalk up this mission as a failure. Looking up at the clear blue sky, you put your field journal in your backpack and lie back in the grass, hands cradling your head.

Unbidden thoughts of Hunter flit through your mind – some savory, some not so much. You've discovered through casual observation, coupled with confirmation from Tech, that Hunter's genetic enhancements shine through in his senses of hearing, and especially scent; his exceptionally keen tracking skills are merely another perk. A thought races through your mind now, thinking back several weeks to when you had last gone through your cycle – was he able to SMELL all that?

Oh, Maker, I hope not... Then you realize how much time has actually passed, and that you're due for your next cycle within the next day or two. That would explain why you haven't been sleeping well for the past several days, despite the fact you've been feeling quite fatigued.

“Oh...shit...” you say, thinking that no one is within earshot.

“Y/N, what's the matter? Is everything all right?” Hunter asks, emerging over the top of the grass, very close to you.

You let out a startled gasp, then cover your eyes with a hand. “No, Hunter, not really. I need to make use of the spare bunk...I just realized that now,” you say a little sheepishly.

He looks at you with those expressive brown eyes of his, concerned, but caring all at the same time. “No worries, I'll make sure it's fixed up for you.” “I'm sorry this is so much of a hassle,” you blurt out. “I can't help it, and I'm sure it doesn't make things any easier for any of you. ”

“Hey now, what kind of talk is that?” Hunter replies, coming to sit down next to you. “This isn't a hassle at all. Sure, the rest of us have to make some minor adjustments, but it really is no trouble, I assure you. When I get back to the Marauder, I can set it up for you, okay?”

Out of nowhere, his finger comes to your face, pulling a lock of stray hair back into place. He smiles gently at you, then gets up and starts walking back to the ship. You touch the place on your face where his finger had been, shivering a little. You have no idea what that's about, but the slow heat beginning to build between your legs is trying to tell you otherwise.

The warmth of the sunshine feels quite comforting today, so you close your eyes and exhale deeply. The rest of the guys are somewhere nearby and won't leave without you, so now seems like a perfectly acceptable time to catch a little loth cat nap. Maybe in dreams, Hunter's actions will become more apparent. You already think he's the most attractive of the squad, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't fantasize about him fucking you hard at least a couple of times, especially the last time you went through your cycle...

*****

Hunter's strong, warm hands slide their way up your legs, parting them when he comes to your knees. Running his hands along your thighs, he lets one of his thumbs rest on the hood of your clit, the other lying on one of your outer lips. Slowly, he begins to retract your hood, exposing the smooth pearl within. The other thumb begins to pull you open, exposing your glistening wet entrance. He moans softly as he traces his thumb through your wetness, smearing some on your clit. Gently, he begins to swirl the flat of his thumb over it, making you moan and arch up into him.

He chuckles as he slowly slips his index finger inside you, marveling at how tight, hot and wet you are. “Someone's needy, isn't she?” he teases. “I think you like it when I've got my fingers buried in your pussy...isn't that right?”

“Y...yes, Hunter...” you moan softly, grinding your hips up against his hand in an attempt to get him to start stroking your insides.

“That's my girl,” he whispers, pushing his middle finger inside you, your deep-seated groan of satisfaction bringing a broad grin to his face. He starts to move his fingers in and out, hooking them upward a little so he can touch that beautiful little sensitive spot that always makes you come so hard for him. “You want to come all over my fingers, mésh'la? Or do you want my cock, instead?”

You don't answer him right away, for the feeling of his fingers touching your sweet spot make you moan out his name. Hunter takes one of your breasts in his hand, squeezing gently, before his thumb swirls over your hardened nipple. He leans down and his tongue flicks over it, sending chills down your spine and a pulse of heat in your core. You contract your walls around his fingers, breath catching in his throat.

His mouth latches onto your nipple, suckling lightly on it, causing involuntary contractions that to Hunter, feel like delicate kisses on his fingers. He moans against you, swirling his tongue madly before his teeth close down on you, pulling gently. Your hand runs through his hair and down the back of his neck, cradling him as he releases you and his ravenous mouth searches for yours.

Hunter takes your lower lip gently between his teeth, pulling just a little before licking at it and letting his tongue slip into your mouth, letting it glide over yours. You moan deeply into his mouth as he gives your insides a few loving strokes before pulling them out. As he breaks the kiss, he looks at his fingers that are coated with your creamy juices. Your eyes meet his and he smiles, tracing his wet fingers over your lips.

“I want to watch you suck my fingers clean, cyar'ika. Do it like you're sucking my cock,” he tells you, his voice dropping into a husky whisper.

You comply, opening your mouth slowly as his fingers slip into your mouth. Your hand closes around his wrist as your tongue swirls around them, tasting the salt and tang of your secretions. Hunter moans softly and reaches down to adjust himself through his sleep shorts; he's almost painfully hard right now and wants nothing more than to sink himself balls deep inside you.

Suckling more firmly on his fingers, you start to mimic the motions of giving him a blowjob, your head moving to and fro with vigor. Hunter smirks as you fight to suppress your gag reflex once his fingers are fully in your mouth. With his open hand, he begins to free himself from his shorts, the elegant curvature of his thick length aching for the sanctuary of your pussy. He pulls his fingers out, then leans down to kiss you deeply, the taste of your juices still there.

“That's my good girl,” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver and moan his name once more. “Open up for me, cyaré, and take my cock...you're such a greedy little slut. Isn't that right?”

Hunter aligns himself with your entrance, slowly gliding the head of his cock through your outer lips to pick up your wetness, then lets it slip effortlessly over your swollen clit. A heated cry escapes you and you close your legs around his waist, pulling him forward and coaxing him to enter you. He plants his hands on either side of your shoulders, breathing heavily in anticipation as he parks himself firmly at your entrance.

“Fuck me, Hunter... I'm your greedy little slut,” you plead.

“That's all I wanted to hear, mésh'la.”

His lips press against yours for a heated kiss, tongue easing into your mouth as he begins to slowly push inside you, moving slowly so you can stretch around him. You let out a lusty moan of unbridled pleasure as he seats himself fully inside you. Instinctively, you flex your walls around him, squeezing his cock with everything you can muster. Hunter's head snaps up as you do this, with a primal growl. He closes his hands around your hips as he withdraws his cock until he's almost out of you, and with no warning, he surges forward –

*****

“Ad'íka? Ad'íka, where are you?” Wrecker yells, looking over the sea of grass, trying to spot you. “We're gonna catch hell from Hunter if we can't find her,” he groans. “Oi, Tech! Help me find Y/N. I know she's here somewhere.”

“Wrecker, please calm down. The likelihood of her going far without at least one of us accompanying her is statistically speaking, quite low. I saw Hunter heading back to the Marauder awhile ago, so I assume he likely spoke to her before doing so. I believe I can make an educated guess as to where she may be,” Tech replied.

Tech begins to move off in the direction where he last spotted Hunter, walking slowly and parting the grass as he goes, careful not to make a misstep – or accidentally step on you. He looks around cautiously, trying to look for telltale signs such as places where grass looks unnaturally flattened. The wind picks up and the skies are beginning to cloud over again, threatening to bring more rain, or worse, another storm.

“Wrecker, pack it in and move to my location. The weather is becoming inclement and we need to make it back to the Marauder with haste,” Tech calls.

He's still looking around and finds a patch of the grass that doesn't look quite like the others. Striding with a little more purpose, he's almost to where you're lying, but since he can't get a good visual of what's just beyond the grass, he stops and looks up at the grove of trees that marks the division between the forested area and the field.

“Crosshair, can you give me visual confirmation that I'm close to Y/N?” Thunder booms in the distance and Tech looks to the tree line.

When you and the squad exited the grove, Crosshair stayed back and got himself up into one of the taller trees, closely keeping an eye on all of you. He sighs and looks out upon the field, seeing Tech and Wrecker waving. Luckily, he's up high enough and can easily see that they're right at the edge of where you are, still blissfully wrapped up in your dream about Hunter. He laughs and then they hear him rasp, “she's down there all right, fast asleep. Watch your step. If I were you, I'd wake her gently...looks like she's having one hell of a dream!”

Wrecker looks at Tech with a quizzical look on his face. “How does he know that?”

“I do not know. Maybe by her body language?” Tech postulates.

“Wrap it up, you two. I'm heading back to the ship. Last place I need to be is up in a tree when it starts storming,” Crosshair warns as he starts making his way back to ground level.

Tech plows through the grass once more, and finally comes to a stop where his suspicion is confirmed. Sweeping the grass aside with one arm, he sees you lying on the ground, head resting on your backpack. You're still asleep, and Tech's eyes go wide when he realizes that you have slipped a hand down your pants and are slowly rubbing your clit.

“Did you find her? Is she okay?” Wrecker says lowly as he stands beside Tech. “I...I...yes, I found her all right,” Tech mumbles, feeling his face grow hot. This is something new for him, and he's distinctly uncomfortable, feeling like he's somehow violating your consent by seeing you in such a vulnerable state. “She's...well, I...how do I put this,” Tech stammers.

“Tech, what's the matter with you? What's she doing? Crosshair said she was sleeping, so what's got you all jumpy?” He looks down and sees you touching yourself and his eyes get just as big as Tech's, and he clears his throat, trying not to stare and desperately trying to ignore the fact he feels himself starting to grow hard. “Oh, I see, now. She's, uh...she's...” He's embarrassed, not wanting to say the word.

“Yes, that,” Tech replies, not wanting to say it either. “I am not sure how to approach waking her up. But we have no choice. It is going to start raining shortly and I do not wish to get caught out here if it decides to storm.”

“Let me do it, Tech,” Wrecker offers. He kneels down next to you and very carefully places his hand on your arm. “Ad'íka, he says quietly. “Ad'íka, I need you to wake up, honey, please?”

You groan softly and remove your hand from your pants. Tech coughs nervously and also kneels down at your side. “Y/N, it's time to wake up. A storm is coming and we have to get back to the Marauder quickly.”

“Come on, ad'íka, we'll get you out of here. I just need you to wake up first,” Wrecker tries again.

You slowly open your eyes and blink a few times, trying to focus. You have no idea how long you've been out, but you do know that your dream of Hunter fucking you mercilessly is now hopelessly irretrievable. “Tech? Wrecker? What time is it?” you murmur sleepily, rubbing at your eyes.

“Time to go, honey,” Wrecker says, slipping his huge arm under your back, pulling you up into a sitting position gently. “It's getting ready to storm, and this could be a bad one. Come on, let me help you up. Tech, grab her backpack, would you?”

Wrecker helps you get to your feet, and you let out a mighty yawn. “I'm so sorry, guys... That sunshine felt so good, and you know I haven't been sleeping well lately.” You grimace a little as you feel your lower abdomen beginning to seize up a little. You swear under your breath and Tech's eyes narrow as he studies your features.

“Are you quite all right, Y/N? You look like you're in pain.”

“I'll be all right, Tech. Don't worry about it.” You glance up at the sky and black clouds are building in behind you. Glancing at your chrono, you curse again and take your backpack from Tech. “Yeah, we need to get out of here. I can't believe how late it's gotten, and those thunderheads are looking nasty.”

You begin to feel a few raindrops hit your face, and you shoulder your backpack, wincing as pain shoots through your lower abdomen. What you don't see is Tech's look of deep concern as you start back toward the grove, with Wrecker quickly blazing a trail for you and Tech to follow. The three of you end up making it back to the Marauder in record time, sprinting through a deluge as you leave the relative protection of the grove into the clearing where the ship lies.

“What the hell happened?” Hunter calls from the cockpit. “I thought you would have all been back a few hours ago!”

“I'm sorry, Hunter, it's my fault,” you reply. “I ended up falling asleep and it took Tech and Wrecker awhile to find me.”

“Maybe you need to start carrying a homing beacon with you,” Crosshair interjects, coming around the corner as the three of you get inside the ship. “Wouldn't want you getting lost, or anything,” he says, looking at you with that smug expression you wish you could slap off his face. He lets his gaze linger as he looks you over, and you feel like he's boring holes into you.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” you fire back at him.

“Oh...no reason,” he says, and then he winks at you before walking into the cockpit to join Hunter. You look at Tech and Wrecker in disbelief, shaking your head. “What's his problem, anyway?”

“He's always like that, ad'íka. Try not to take it personally,” Wrecker says, frowning.

“I must agree with Wrecker, Y/N. We are used to him always trying to get under our skin. Do not let it get to you.”

Hunter emerges from the cockpit, a little smile on his face as he looks the three of you over. “You all look like drowned womp rats. Go get yourselves cleaned up and then come get something to eat. I managed to trap and kill some kind of larger foraging animal, so we've got some fresh meat, for once. Tech, I might ask you to keep an eye on the radar later. We might be in for a long night with this storm... If it looks like something dangerous is brewing, we'll need to get out of here as fast as possible.”

“Certainly, Hunter. I shall keep you updated.”

“Come on, ad'íka, I'll take your backpack,” Wrecker says quietly, pulling it away from you as he starts walking back to the bunks.

Tech gently touches your shoulder, startling you. “Are you quite all right, Y/N? You do not look well. Would you like assistance returning to your bunk?”

You look up at him, his large, golden brown eyes clearly showing signs of worry. “I'll be honest with you,” you say quietly. “No, I'm not feeling well at all, and yes, I think I'll accept the help, if you don't mind.”

A small smile briefly crosses his face, and he offers his arm to you. You happily accept as more cramping strikes, trying not to audibly groan, but you can't help it. As you get back to the bunks, you can see that Wrecker has carefully put your backpack by your bed. He sees you holding onto Tech's arm and immediately looks concerned.

“Hey, ad'íka, you don't look so good. Is there anything you need?” “Could you take my backpack to the spare bunk, please? Hunter said it would be ready for me by the time I got back. I'm...not feeling well, Wrecker.”

As you mention the term “spare bunk,” Tech turns to look at you, and then it all makes sense to him. “Ah...now I understand. You are not feeling well because you are...” He hesitates to finish his sentence, and he coughs awkwardly.

“It's all right, Tech. You don't need to say it. I think I'm going to grab a quick shower before coming to join you all for dinner. Thank you for helping me today...both of you. I appreciate it.”

As you let go of Tech's arm, he turns to look at Wrecker. “I think we should leave Y/N alone for awhile, Wrecker. Why don't you go see if Hunter needs any help with dinner preparation? I need to speak with Echo and see if he came up with any workarounds we can use for Y/N's research until the new parts arrive.” As Tech turns to leave, he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, concern still etched across his face. You give him a little smile, then nod. He accepts that as the sign to leave, and heads out.

Wrecker picks up your heavy backpack and walks it back to the small room just off the main sleeping area, separated by a floor to ceiling curtain fashioned from an extra blanket. He pushes aside the curtain and gently puts your backpack on the floor. On the way back, you stop him and put your hand on his upper arm. As terrible as you currently feel, you still feel the need to thank him again.

“Thank you again, Wrecker. Both you and Tech have been very kind. I'll come eat after I'm done in the refresher, okay? Maybe a shower might help me feel better.”

“It's nothing, ad'íka. As far as I'm concerned, you're a member of our little family now. We've got your back.”

You chuckle quietly. “Even Crosshair?” you ask, with a hint of suspicion in your voice.

Wrecker stops to think about that for a moment, and with great amusement gives you an honest response. “Yep, even Crosshair.”

*****

The pain in your pelvic floor is steadily growing more intense. As you strip off all your wet gear, you check your panties to see if you've started bleeding yet, and sure enough, there's a few spots of blood. Sighing in annoyance, you throw them on top of the pile of wet clothing, mentally reminding yourself to ask Tech later if there's any kind of good stain removing solvent on board. You see that Hunter was kind enough to leave a stack of clean towels for you, and you suddenly feel irrationally guilty, but then you can't help but smile when you see Wrecker's beloved Lula tucked in the corner of your bunk.

You pick up a towel and wrap it around yourself, grabbing your bag of toiletries as you peek your head around the curtain, making absolutely sure the bunks are cleared out. You don't particularly want most of the guys seeing you like this, and thankfully the path to the refresher is clear. You step in, and crank the hot water. As you wash your hair, you start feeling marginally better, although you're worried about how the rest of the night is going to play out. You finish the rest of your bathing routine quickly, not wanting to make the guys wait too long to have dinner.

When you get back to your bunk, you only want to be as comfortable as possible for the rest of the night, yet still be presentable. Fishing through your clothes to find the special black panties you have specifically for absorbing blood, you slip those on, along with a clean bra and one of your oversized t-shirts that you use for sleeping in. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in a small mirror as you comb out your hair, and you can clearly see you're not well. Dark circles under your eyes, and paler than usual.

“Could be worse,” you say softly as you dig through one of your bags for a small bottle containing painkillers. Tapping two pills into your palm, you down them with a swig of water from your canteen. You look back at the mirror and sigh. “Could be a hell of a lot worse.”

You make your way to the common area where you know you will find the guys waiting for you. They will not eat unless you're present, which you've told them repeatedly they don't need to do, but they still insist upon it. You remember the last time you went through your cycle, there was one night you were too sick to eat anything, and you had spent the entire night in your bunk. Now you truly feel guilty, because that means they all went hungry that night.

You stop in the doorway and see them sitting around the table, laughing and having an animated conversation. This brings a smile to your face, seeing that they're content and happy, despite being stuck on what has truly been a horrible mission. The others don't notice that Hunter turns to look at you standing there. He knew you were coming; he picked up your scent after you left your bunk, the smell of blood teasing his senses.

As your eyes lock on his, you see his expression change from one of acknowledgment to one of definite interest. His dark eyes began to take on a hooded appearance, and you realize what you see there – it's sheer lust. Then it hits you that he knows you've started bleeding, and a twinge of arousal begins to form in the pit of your chest. Hunter raises an eyebrow at you and a sly grin forms, because you've betrayed that you're more than interested, too.

Conversation stops when the rest of the guys notice that Hunter falls silent, and they turn to follow his gaze. You walk slowly toward them, one hand clutching the material of your shirt between your breasts. Glancing over at them, you can see that Wrecker's mouth is hanging open, a look of surprise on his face. You catch Tech's gaze, and he immediately blushes and looks away. Echo, always the gentleman, looks away immediately. Crosshair's usual stony faced visage is replaced by something resembling a combination of surprise and the same kind of interest you saw in Hunter's eyes.

“I'm sorry, guys, I just need to be as comfortable as I can tonight, so please forgive the way I'm dressed,” you say quietly.

“There's nothing to forgive, Y/N. We understand,” Hunter replies, gesturing for you to come and sit. “Hopefully after you eat a little something, it will help take your mind off your discomfort.” Your eyes widen as he says this, because he didn't see you grimacing earlier...how does he know? “Tech and Wrecker told me you were exhibiting clear signs of being in pain. It's nothing to be ashamed of,” he says reassuringly.

“Please, ad'íka, have something to eat,” Wrecker says as he nudges a plate of roasted something at you. “Take whatever you want.”

You look around at the others and they look at you expectantly. It certainly smells good, whatever it is, and you haven't eaten much other than a measly ration bar early this morning. As you pick slices that have the brownest, crispiest skin, you can hear Echo next to you letting out his breath in a large sigh of relief. You pat his arm gently as you start to eat. Whatever this animal is, it's surprisingly tasty.

“This is really good, you guys. It reminds me of boar-wolf meat.” Tech turns to you with a look of rapt interest. “When did you get the opportunity to have boar-wolf? They're supposedly endemic only to Endor.”

You swallow a mouthful of food and grin. “I was part of an expedition to the forest moon of Endor. We were tasked with locating any sentient life with the goal of establishing contact, but ultimately we found nothing. Some of the men decided they wanted fresh food instead of the rations, so they went out hunting and managed to bring down a boar-wolf. That was some fine dining, I tell you. The expedition was a total failure, but spit-roasted boar-wolf was the highlight of that entire trip.”

“Fascinating... Y/N, when you feel up to it, I would like to talk with you further about your trip to Endor, if you don't mind. So little is known about the planet itself, let alone the forest moon.”

“I'd be more than happy to share that information with you, Tech. I have all of my findings backed up on one of my datapads.”

You turn to look at Hunter, and his eyes still have that sultry look to them. You pause a moment before speaking again, because you feel the familiar heat of arousal creeping back between your legs. Your face starts to grow hot just looking at him, as juicier bits of your dream come back to flood your mind. Hunter notes that your scent has drastically changed, your pheromones intermingling with the thick smell of rich blood. He's glad he still has his codpiece on, because it's hiding the fact he's hard as steel underneath it.

“Truly, this is outstanding, Hunter...thank you for all of this.” You look around at the others, and do your best to not betray the fact your insides feel like they're being squeezed half to death. “Dig in, everyone. There's no guarantee we'll get an offering like this again while we're here.”

“You heard Y/N, boys! Let's eat!” Wrecker booms enthusiastically.

The rest of dinner is a rather noisy affair, with a great deal of spirited conversation, bad jokes from Wrecker, a few dirty ones from Crosshair, and plenty of raucous laughter. The others don't see that you and Hunter are constantly exchanging glances, looking at each other progressively longer each time your eyes meet. You can feel yourself beginning to bleed a little more, the intoxicating scent of it starting to dominate his keen senses. Hunter's earlier assumption is correct – it's going to be a long night.

*****

As you lie in your bunk, the screaming of the wind and driving rain against the Marauder's hull does nothing to ease your shattered nerves. The spasms in your pelvic floor escalated during the course of dinner, after which you quickly excused yourself to retreat to the privacy and confines of your bed. You've attempted to distract yourself with one of the many books you brought, but nothing can take your mind off your body tearing itself apart.

The painkillers you took did nothing to abate your misery, and the only thing you wish is to be released from this punishment. You cradle Lula in your arms and curl up into the fetal position; it's not long before you feel the tears slowly roll down your face.

“Make it stop,” you whisper. “For the love of the Maker, just let this be over...”

Time loses all meaning as more waves of acute tightness pass through you. Clutching Lula tighter, you start rolling back and forth as the tears flow faster, and you try to cry as quietly as possible. The intermittent roaring of thunder combined with Wrecker's snoring provides adequate cover, but you're afraid that at some point, you're going to wake someone up. You've shown no weakness to these men the entire time you've been with them, and not about to start by admitting you're crying from pain.

Hunter lies awake in his bunk, restless and overstimulated with the scent of you assailing him. Visions of lying with his head buried between your legs, tongue slipping into you to rapaciously lap up blood dominates his every thought. He shifts uncomfortably as he feels himself starting to grow hard again, and his hand drifts down between his legs to start touching himself through his sleep shorts.

In the dim, cool white glow of the bunks' overhead lights, Hunter looks around the room at his brothers. Confident that they're all sound asleep, he sits up, swinging his feet to the floor. Lifting his head a little, he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Though the room is filled with natural scents of the others, the one that permeates the air the most is yours – the metallic, iron-rich tang of blood commingled with the unmistakable perfume of female pheromones. He groans quietly as his cock swells, hand sliding into his shorts to start stroking himself.

Hunter stops as he picks up the sound of your distress, feeling compelled to go and check on you. Rising slowly, he makes his way from the bunks down the small hallway to where you lie, sobbing quietly. He stops just outside the doorway, hand on the curtain, rooted to the spot as he listens to you, trying to ignore the incredible redolence of blood emanating from your room.

Pulling the curtain aside, he cautiously enters, seeing you sitting up, arms wrapped around your middle and hunched over as pain wracks your body. He sees that you laid a towel down over your bed, now tinged with deep crimson. So this is why she wanted to be sequestered from the rest of us the last time... You look up at him with blurry, red-rimmed eyes and at first you have no idea who it actually is that's come to check on you.

“Y/N, are you all right?” Hunter says quietly, coming closer. You don't answer, but the slow shaking of your head and the heavy trembling speak volumes. “Mésh'la, talk to me. How bad is it?”

You let go of yourself and rest your hands on the edge of your bed before exhaling sharply, pushing yourself up and onto your feet. Your knees wobble as you take a few steps toward Hunter. As you stop, a fresh wave of cramping tears at your midsection; you let out a cry and bare your teeth at him. Locking your eyes on his, your fingers close around the hem of your nightshirt, not caring if he sees you like this. Hunter's eyes go wide, breath catching in his throat as you begin to pull it up.

“You...want to see? Look at this and...f-f-feel my pain,” you choke out.

As you lift your nightshirt up past your waist, his eyes gravitate lower to see that you're wearing nothing underneath, having shed your panties earlier in the night when you knew they would be useless at being able to catch the flow that was to come. Parting your legs just a little, he sees that your inner thighs are covered in blood, a fresh trail quickly coursing its way down your leg onto the floor. He continues to watch transfixed as a large, thick blood clot oozes out from between your legs, followed by another, unable to fathom how you're tolerating this.

Swallowing hard, Hunter stares as you bring a hand down and run your fingers through your outer lips, coating them before bringing them back to your mouth, where you slip them inside to suck them clean. He can see that blood is smeared under your lower lip, and the urge to taste you is overwhelming. Stepping forward, he reaches out and slowly takes you by your upper arms. You don't flinch as his head dips down, mouth hovering just above yours.

“Mésh'la, is it all right if I taste you?” Hunter whispers, his rapid, shallow breathing hot on your face.

You close your eyes and moan softly as his lips trail across your cheek, stopping short of the patch of coagulating blood. “Yes, Hunter...don't be afraid.”

His tongue trails delicately over you, passing over several times until the blood is gone. The concentrated taste of iron combines with the salt from your skin and tears, creating a potent aphrodisiac for his already overtaxed senses. Hunter releases your arms, then slips one of his around your waist, and the other around your shoulders to pull you close.

As you do the same, you feel his lips brush against yours, and you moan deeply into his mouth as he kisses you, his tongue ardently sparring with yours. He breaks the kiss and your eyes meet his. All you can see is a fierce hunger, and you gasp as he takes one of your hands and plants it on his cock, yearning to break out of his shorts. Without thinking, you begin to massage him through the material, feeling him twitch underneath.

“Let me help you,” Hunter says, before gritting his teeth and moaning quietly as you fondle him. “Do you trust me, ad'íka? You can't go on through the night like this.”

“I'm willing to try anything at this point... I just want it to stop,” you whimper.

“You didn't answer me. Do you trust me? I won't do anything unless I'm absolutely sure you're okay with it.”

You hook your free hand around the back of his neck and pull his head down, pressing your lips to his and slipping your tongue into his mouth. Hunter moans deeply against you and bucks his hips into your hand. You squeeze his cock hard, and this time he lets out a loud groan.

“You're here, aren't you? That means I trust you.”

Letting go of him, you turn around and step back to your bed, pulling off the heavily stained towel. Thankfully, there's plenty of towels, so you grab a few more and lay down a thicker barrier. You turn back to him, and see that he's got a thumb hooked in the waistband of his shorts. The head of his cock peeps out above it, slick with pre-cum. Eyes laden with desire bore into yours as he slides off his shorts, the graceful curvature of his thick length just as remarkable as it had been in your dream.

“Take your nightshirt off, mésh'la,” Hunter commands. “You've already shown me that delicious bloody pussy of yours. Now I want to see the rest.”

Heart beating wildly, you obey, pulling your nightshirt off and casting it to the side. You scarcely have time to breathe before Hunter rushes you, hooking an arm around your waist and slipping the other under one of your legs, not caring he's being painted with blood as he lifts you. He sets you down gently on your bed, spreading your legs with hands that feel like they're wreathed in flame. The flat of one thumb trails lightly through your outer lips before it gently flicks over your clit, eliciting a gasp from you.

“I've never seen anything more beautiful,” Hunter murmurs, trailing a fingertip from your bottom lip in a straight line from your chin down to your pubic mound. “...and I have waited so long to do this.” He looks at you with a wanton grin spreading across his face. “But before I do anything, I need to know that you want this. Trusting me is one thing, but wanting me to do this are two different things.”

You press yourself back against your pillows, stretching out a hand that Hunter readily accepts. “I want this, Hunter... You said you could help me. So help me through this...please...” you implore.

He lets go of your hand and leans over you, bringing his head down just above yours. You moan deeply into his mouth as your lips reconnect with his, feeling your clit pulse as his tongue slips across yours. One of his hands closes around a breast, squeezing tenderly as you begin to arch your body up into him in the silent plea to take you. Hunter breaks away and moves his attention to your neck, alternating between light kisses and gentle licking. As he reaches your pulse point, he nips at your flesh, making you cry out in surprise.

“Shhhh, ad'íka, you want to wake everyone up?” Hunter laughs quietly as he moves to position himself between your legs. “Just relax, Y/N, and remember, if it's too much or something hurts, tell me and I'll stop right away.”

You nod and let out a shaky breath as you look down and see how much blood is already on your lower extremities. Hunter looks up at you with fire in his eyes, and you don't look away when he turns to one of your legs, using the flat of his tongue to lick a wide path through the newest trail of blood from your knee all the way up your thigh. Lifting his head, he lets his tongue hang out of his mouth just a little, and you moan when a single drop of fresh blood drips off the tip.

“You taste so fucking good,” Hunter growls. “I want to find out how luscious that pussy is, mésh'la... Are you ready for me?”

“It's all yours, Hunter,” you moan softly.

He slides his arms under your legs, resting his hands on your hips as his face closes in on his quarry. His eyes close as he breathes you in; blood obfuscates nearly everything, but the essence of your fluctuating pheromones is the undercurrent driving him mad. In a flash, his tongue is slipping between your scarlet folds, licking at the fresh trickle of blood slowly seeping out. A large blood clot finds its way into his mouth, and Hunter moans deeply against you, the vibrations sending chills down your spine.

He lifts his head to look at you, and your eyes widen as you see not a man now, but a beast. Blood is on his nose, lips, and chin – macabre tattooing that complements what he already possesses. Hunter turns his attention to your clit, now sticky with drying blood. Out snakes his tongue, swirling over that tiny seat of all your pleasure, cleaning you off and making you moan his name deeply. Closing his lips around it, he suckles gently, letting the tip of his tongue glide along the underside effortlessly.

“Oh, Maker,” you sigh, “don't stop, Hunter...don't you fucking stop...”

He pulls away briefly, looking up at you with a devilish grin. “I have no intentions of doing so, ad'íka. I'm just getting started...” He shifts positions and sits up, bringing one finger to your entrance, which is already leaking once more. “That's what I want to see,” he says, voice dangerously low. “You're so nice and open now...play with your clit for me while you take my fingers.”

Hunter begins to sink his finger inside you slowly, letting you acclimate to him. As you squeeze your walls around him, his brow furrows and he closes his eyes, groaning as his cock flexes.

He starts to glide his finger in and out, watching as it's coated with hot, fresh blood. Watching as you deftly lick your fingertips, he waits for you to slip your hand down between your legs to start rubbing your clit.

“That's my girl,” he croons softly. “Come undone for me...”

He slides his middle finger in, stifling a moan of his own as reflexively, you constrict your walls down around him. Biting your lip, you close your eyes and let your fingers dance over your clit in tight, concentric circles, a low and perpetual moan pouring out of you. Hunter begins to move his fingers in and out gently, watching you closely for any signs of discomfort. Seeing none, he picks up the pace a little, this time hooking his fingertips up to catch your sweet spot.

Your eyes snap open and meet his as you feel that familiar tingle inside you, breath catching in your throat as Hunter's tender stroking draws you closer to the edge. Faster your fingers swirl around your clit, feeling that delicious heat and pulsation build. He grins at you as he slowly trails his free hand down his body until he closes it around his cock, stroking it in time with the rhythm of his fingers. Your walls tighten around him little by little, and he knows you're not far from your climax.

“So close, Hunter...let me come,” you moan lustily.

“Not just yet, mésh'la,” he chuckles, pulling his fingers out of you abruptly, watching a splatter of blood follow them. He holds his hand up for you to see, blood quickly flowing down his palm and onto his wrist. “On your hands and knees, baby. There's no hiding how much you want my cock... So let me show you what I've been waiting to do to you.”

Slowly, you bring your legs down, stiff from being spread apart for so long. As you get on all fours, you purposely tilt your ass up a little bit in a clear sign you're presenting for him. Hunter licks the dried blood from his mouth and shifts until he's up against you, his cock lying between your outer lips. He begins to rock his hips lightly, slipping through your wet cleft, guiding the head of his cock over your clit, relishing at the sound of a deep moan from you.

Hunter plants his bloodied hand on the back of your neck, dragging a wide maroon path down your spine before leaning down and biting into your shoulder, making you curse in both shock and pain. He curls an arm around your waist as you writhe underneath him, still latched onto your shoulder. After what seems like an eternity, he pulls his mouth off you, smirking as he sees the mark he's left behind. As he straightens up, his strong hands fall upon your ass, kneading the flesh gently.

“Now this is a view I could get used to,” Hunter murmurs as he looks down to see blood beginning to drip out of you again. “Such a messy wet cunt, waiting to take my cock...”

You push your ass back against him, and he closes a hand on one of your hips, the other hand on his cock. He slips once more through your hot, slick folds, running the head of his cock over your clit slowly, sighing happily as you moan his name. Finally, he aligns himself flush against your entrance, his other hand closing around your other hip.

“Here we go, mésh'la,” Hunter says quietly. “I want to savor every moment of this.”

He closes his eyes and exhales slowly as he eases his way inside you, relishing at how tight and wet you are for him. You moan deeply at the intrusion, feeling just how thick his cock is, stretching your walls tightly. Bringing a hand down between your legs, you start to stroke your clit again, letting out a sigh of relief as your fingers glide across it, slick with new blood. Hunter takes this as the sign to continue, inching the rest of his cock inside until you gasp as he presses up against your cervix.

“Shhhh, don't worry, baby, I'll be gentle. That's it...work your clit for me. Such a good girl...”

“Fuck me, Hunter...make me come...I need you,” you reply with a heated whisper.

Slowly, he begins to withdraw from you, stopping just before the head of his cock slips out. Looking down, he sees he's fully veiled with blood, thick droplets of it dotting the towels underneath. He runs his tongue over his upper lip and one of his canines, grinning as he threads himself back into you. Your breath comes hard and fast, and you have to stifle a scream as he fills you back up. Fingers swirl over your clit a little faster, and Hunter can feel your pussy fluttering against him; he flexes hard in return and now begins canting his hips into you.

He relaxes the grip on your waist, moving his hands to rest on your ass, his thumbs gently spreading your cheeks apart. You begin to bear down a little as you stroke your clit, relaxing your pelvic floor to accommodate Hunter's meaty girth. Exhaling sharply, you feel his thumb press lightly on your hole – almost curiously – giving pause before he pushes down carefully on it, massaging it as his hips collide with you noisily.

“That's the way, Y/N...” his voice dropping into a husky whisper. “You're doing so well...is this okay?”

“Keep going...I'm all right,” you reassure him. “Don't stop...”

He pulls his cock out just enough for him to wipe blood on his fingers, before pushing back deeply into you, making you gasp and squirm underneath him. Bracing himself with one hand, he leans over you and brings the other to your mouth, running the tips of his fingers over your bottom lip and chin before pushing them into your mouth. You let out a muffled cry, but quickly take to sucking his fingers clean.

“That's it, ad'íka, take my fingers like you are my cock,” Hunter groans.

You contract your walls around him hard as you feel his breath on the back of your neck, then his lips as he kisses your neck and your shoulder, moaning loudly as you give his fingers one last hard suck before he pulls them out. As he straightens once more, his hands return to rest on your ass, and now you feel him withdraw enough to feel the thick, swollen head of his cock spreading your entrance wide.

“Hunter...”

“Breathe, mésh'la...”

A tremendous rush of heat radiates through your pussy as Hunter presses forward and starts to fuck you, this time with no more teasing. His hands move from your ass back to your waist, gripping firmly as each forward surge is replete with a singular purpose. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back as he bucks his hips up harder into you, smacking against your ass at a progressively accelerated pace.

The moans from you both grow unchecked, not caring that you're getting increasingly loud. You start to throw back against him, Hunter letting out a deep growl and loosening his hands from your hips to let you be in control. You move back and forth effortlessly along his cock, feeling him beginning to swell each time your ass claps back against his body, relishing at the way he massages your sweet spot.

He lets out a low moan as you connect with him again, this time stopping to swirl your hips as he bottoms out within you. You lower yourself onto your bed, guiding your hand back down between your legs. Your clit pulses heavily, screaming at you to bring forth the relief you desperately seek. Once more, you swirl your fingers over the hard little nub of flesh, quickly feeling that magical electricity returning.

Blinded by instinct and utterly blood-drunk, Hunter grasps your hips and retakes control. He fucks you hard and fast, hips slamming into your ass and thighs, spurred on by your cries of ecstasy. His cock drives relentlessly into you, slipping past your sweet spot, magnifying the quivering of your walls around him. Stroking your clit in time with each thrust, every nerve ending is alight as you're nearly at your peak.

“Come for me, Y/N,” Hunter groans deeply. “I know you're so close...”

Your moaning crescendos as Hunter slows his pace down, his cock swelling to its maximum. A heaving cry flies out of you as your orgasm breaks, your walls contracting around him wildly. Hunter can't believe the strength of your pussy as you bear down and start to push his cock out. He pulls out of you fully, agape as a gush of blood drenches his hand. Undeterred, he strokes himself hard a few times and doesn't hold back a roar of pleasure as he spills his seed all over your ass and onto your back.

Trembling from exertion and still coasting the waves of your orgasm, you collapse onto your side. Hunter shifts forward and slips his hands under your legs, moving you onto your back. You hold up your hand, marveling at the velvety crimson rolling down your fingers, down your palm, and back onto your wrist. He looks at you and smiles, both of you still breathing heavily and bathed in sweat. Leaning down over you, he reaches for your hand and brings it to his face, pulling it across his cheek, mouth, and chin to mark himself once more.

“Ad'íka, that was incredible,” Hunter murmurs against your palm. “So much more than I ever thought it would be. I need to ask...do you feel any better?”

Thinking for a moment, you realize you long since forgot your pain, as you now bask in the pleasant warmth spreading through your entire body. “I feel like a million Republic credits, Hunter. That was...beyond intense.”

He chuckles softly. “May I ask you for one more thing, Y/N?” He lets go of your hand and moves down to your thighs, trailing his fingertips down them gently, making you shiver. “Can I have one more taste of you? We probably won't get to do this again while we're here, so I'd like to have something to remember this night.”

You smile and nod, slipping your hand down between your legs to spread your folds apart for him. “Take all you want, Hunter. I know I'll never forget this.”

A little sigh of contentment is heard as he dips back between your legs, tongue licking every last bit of flesh, sucking on your outer lips to clean them off. Gently, he licks your still-sensitive clit, making your legs twitch involuntarily. You can't help but moan softly as his tongue probes at your entrance, before slipping in and gathering what he can. As he pulls away, he slips two fingers inside you to glaze them, then draws parallel lines on each of your cheeks and down your chin.

His lips seek out yours and you meet him halfway for a deep, passionate kiss, moaning into his mouth as he lets you have the remainder of the blood he took from you. Hunter pulls away from you and moves your hair out of your face, his dark eyes now full of tender care. He smiles and shifts you over so he can lie next to you, his hand resting on your chest, head next to yours. Putting your hand over his, you close your eyes and exhale deeply.

“Y/N,” Hunter begins, “there's something you should know.” You turn your head to look at him with a quizzical expression. “It's no secret that blood consumption is practiced by many cultures throughout the galaxy. But there's one thing that's considered universally sacred, and that's getting to taste the precious lifeblood from a woman during her cycle. Something to do with honoring women as the ones who bring forth life, and the bonds of family, I guess. Unlike my brothers, I've never gotten to go through the ritual...until now. For that, I'll always be grateful to you.” “Hunter, you don't need to...”

“There's more, ad'íka. Since you have given me the intimate honor of being the one to have you during your time, I want to offer you something, if you would accept it.”

“What would that be?”

“A place here with us... I heard what Wrecker said to you earlier today, about being part of the family. My brothers and I pledged to take care of each other in all circumstances, and I want to extend that covenant to you. What do you say?”

You shift onto your side, reaching to touch his face, your thumb gently caressing the corner of his mouth. His eyes search yours hopefully as he slings his arm around you and pulls you against his chest. “I think I'm going to the be most well-protected scientist in the Republic,” you tell him softly. “Yes, Hunter, I accept... I know you don't offer this to me lightly. I need to thank you for everything...you and the others have made this entire ordeal so much easier to bear.”

Hunter's mouth joins with yours in a surprisingly soft, delicate kiss. You chuckle quietly and curl your arm around his waist as you return the favor, slipping your tongue into his mouth and letting it tussle with his. As he presses his forehead to yours, cradling your head gently in his hand, he whispers, “No, cyar'íka...thank you. Welcome to our family.”

“What are you going to tell the others? Are they going to be okay with this? I'm not concerned about Wrecker, obviously, but –”

“Shhhhh, Y/N, there's no need to worry about anything. They'll understand why. Hell, they've been waiting long enough for me to even do this. There won't be any waiting to tell them, either.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, sounding slightly alarmed. Hunter starts laughing, covering his face with his hands. “We woke everyone up, cyar'íka. They heard everything. There's no point in hiding what we've done.” Your face grows hot with embarrassment as he sits up and moves to the edge of the bed, looking down at you. “I think you and I both need a trip to the refresher...we look like we came from a slaughterhouse. Get up, and I'll lay more clean towels down.”

You rise slowly and look back at the mess you two made, and then you look at Hunter, who looks like something out of a horror film. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and you see the tattooing on your face that he gave you – grisly marks of initiation. Dried blood coats your inner thighs, but it looks like the worst of the bleeding is over. Glancing back at Hunter, he's gathered up all the soiled towels, along with his sleep shorts.

“Come on, Y/N, let's get cleaned up.” You look at your nightshirt that's crumpled up on the floor and move to go put it back on. “Leave it,” Hunter remarks as he peeks out of the doorway and down the short hallway. “If we're lucky, we can make it to the refresher before anyone spots us. If not, then...”

“Then someone's getting an eyeful,” you chuckle dryly. “It's not exactly the end of the world if the others see me naked. I guess in time, it's bound to happen, anyway.”

Hunter steps out into the dimly lit hall with you close behind him. Quietly, you approach the junction leading to the refresher, catching a shadow of someone coming toward you. Crosshair stops and leans up against the wall, arms crossed with a distinctly irked expression on his lean face.

“Pfffft....couldn't even be bothered to put your damn clothes back on, could you? Nice job waking us up!” he gripes. “You were going at it like two banthas on glitterstim and I didn't think it was possible, but you even managed to wake up Wrecker!”

“Crosshair, shut the fuck up and keep your voice down,” Hunter snarls. “Cyar'íka, with me. It's all right.”

“Cyar'íka? Hunter, what are you talking about?”

You gather your courage and step out from behind Hunter, his hand closing on your shoulder protectively. Crosshair gets a good look at you and Hunter now, eyes wide, his sleep-addled mind not entirely comprehending what he's seeing. His face grows hot as he stares at you first, dried blood caked on much of your body, your hair disheveled. Seeing all the blood smeared on Hunter's face, he covers his mouth with his hand and starts laughing quietly.

“What's so goddamn funny, you smug prick?” you snap angrily.

“Y/N, don't. I think I know what this is about. There's no need to get upset,” Hunter says, squeezing your shoulder gently.

Crosshair composes himself and coughs before looking at Hunter with soft amusement. “So, you finally went through with it, Hunter. Congratulations... We took bets ages ago as to how long it would take you to get the job done...if I'm not mistaken, I believe Tech has now earned himself quite a few credits. Jokes aside, I can see you took things to a far higher level than the rest of us ever did, but for what it's worth, ner vod, I'm proud of you, truly. I have to ask, though...what's with calling Y/N cyar'íka? I'm missing something, here.”

Hunter's hand leaves your shoulder, trailing down your spine before his arm comes around your waist loosely, holding you close to him. “She gave me something incredibly sacred, and in return I offered her something just as sacrosanct – a place in this family. You know what that means, Crosshair, and you know I didn't offer this lightly.”

Crosshair turns to you, this time his expression changing from amusement to one of solemnity. You could swear he almost looks guilty, as if he's feeling remorse for being rude to you on numerous occasions. “If he's offered that to you, Y/N, then...” He trails off, looking down at the floor, resting a hand on the back of his head.

“Then what?” you ask gently.

He looks back at you and exhales sharply. “Then I accept you too...ad'íka. Is it too late to apologize for not being exactly kind to you? For that, I was wrong. Forgive me.”

“No, Crosshair, it isn't too late. And...thank you. It's an honor to be welcomed into this family...an honor that will never be forgotten.”

“Good. Now do us all a favor and get your asses in the refresher. You reek of blood and sex, and frankly, it's a little insulting,” Crosshair laughs just as Hunter steps forward and shoves the blood stained towels into his arms.

“Just for that, you go ask Tech for that special enzymatic cleaner he has,” Hunter growls, taking your hand gently in his, turning in the direction of the refresher.

You wait until you're out of Crosshair's earshot before finding your voice. “Is it always going to be like that with him?” you ask curiously.

Hunter sighs as he opens the door to the refresher, then laughs quietly. “I'm afraid so. I did enjoy seeing you rip into him, however. He needs to learn a little humility, anyway.” As the door closes behind you, Hunter cranks on the shower. He turns toward you with a seductive grin, beckoning for you to join him. “Let me test a theory, mésh'la, that it's going be just as much fun getting you clean as it was getting you absolutely filthy.”

As you step under the blissfully hot water, Hunter's arms close around you, one hand wandering down to squeeze your ass as his lips touch yours for a particularly deep, sensuous kiss. You feel his cock stirring to life once more, twitching against your stomach.

Welcome to the family, indeed...

*****

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

[data-dominant]

@dormeprime-blog, continued here

(Newly promoted Lt. Dorme Obolenskyia, assigned to Security, stood in the doorway of Data's quarters, nervous. He had been one of the few on board the Enterprise who wasn't creeped out by her....unconventional nature. Despite there being open acceptance within the Federation of the 'strange and unusual,' well.....being an actual VAMPIRE definitely ranked up there with 'strange.' And that scared people. Except Data, even with his emotion chip installed, finally)

(Dorme wondered why Data would want to see her at this hour. Was it to discuss more about her experiences being several centuries old? Or was it due to the....heated looks he had been giving her this last week? He was gorgeous, with his long arms, chestnut auburn hair, golden eyes like a sunrise. She had fallen hard for him when they first met weeks ago, after her arrival. Was that it? If so, she hoped he liked what he saw: auburn/copper curls, pale skin, green eyes, petite but with curves. Was she even his type? She swore he preferred blonds....)

"Good evening, Commander. You asked to see me?"

Ah, Lieutenant, yes, please come in. I have recently acquired more comfortable seating in an attempt to make my space more 'welcoming', and hope you find it satisfactory.

An elegant Victorian tufted chaise lounge and two wingback chairs ring a modern-style glass coffee table in an eclectic melange. Soft throw blankets and pillows are neatly arranged like a show room display.

May I get you anything? Perhaps some tea, or something stronger?

He lets the question linger in the air with a small arch of his brow.

Several subroutines were currently busy cataloging her vital signs and cross-referencing them with her medical records on file as she entered. It didn't escape his notice that she did not cross the threshold until he explicitly bade her entry.

All of the pieces of a theory were there, but he had to make certain before broaching such a sensitive question. As a personal hero once said, "when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable must be the truth."

[shunin-gumis]

Nagi Hachinoya Novel

Essence of a Bouquet

Track 02 - Assignment to reveal your Akashic Records

The assignment from Master Hideko goes like this:

"Write about your experiences up until this point in your life on your exclusive form and submit it before the next meeting."

However, I'm not good at using computers, an error is guaranteed to happen when I do. I could type, but it's slow and awkward, like raindrops hitting the keys one drop at a time. That's why I asked Buchi-san to write it for me instead.

Daniel "Eehh, I don't wanna. Sounds like a pain."

Nagi "I'm begging you… I'll massage your shoulders for every letter you type."

Daniel "Let's do this."

… I'm glad he accepted it so readily.

And that's how Buchi-san ended up right in the middle of my room, lying down on his stomach while he types away on the laptop.

Daniel "So, you need to write about your life? What's this even for anyways."

He side-eyes me with suspicion as he says this.

Nagi "For the sake of increasing my happiness."

Daniel "….Well, alright. Just make sure you don't join a cult or something."

He didn't seem all that convinced, but at least he went back to typing on the laptop. I close my eyes so I can focus on the assignment.

Daniel "Wait, isn't this giving away too much personal information…?"

While Buchi-san kept muttering about something or the other, I think back on my life.

At the age of 16, I started working at a flower shop.

Not the 'Flower Laundry' that I'm currently managing, but a different one. At the same time as I started working there, I got a license for two-wheelers as well, since I had to go on deliveries.

For someone like me, who's never even needed to ride the train before, my world expanded just a little. If I just tilted the handlebars in a different direction, I felt like I could reach the very edge of the world.

The possibility was right there… but I didn't do it in the end. I have a job to do after all.

Still, I couldn't stop my heart from pounding. I wanted one of my own, but it was too expensive for me.

I wasn't sure how he caught wind of it, but it was around then that a senior from my part-time job told me-

Senior "If you're alright with a hand-me-down, I can give you my old bike."

Nagi "Really?….. Thank you very much."

It was a second-hand bike. He called it a hand-me-down, but it was in a really good condition for a secondhand bike. I could tell he treasured it deeply.

I was so happy and grateful that I'd asked him what I could do for him in return, but he said he didn't need anything. Because of this overflowing happiness, a lion from the nearby zoo broke out of it's enclosure and came after me directly, but that's besides the point.

Nagi "Let's go."

I'd already decided on the first place I wanted to visit after I got my own bike.

Nagi "To the laundromat where I was abandoned."

Having written on the form up till that point, Buchi-san folds his arms and nods his head in agreement.

Daniel "I get how you feel, I would've done the same thing too. I'd try to see if I could find my mother, or at least find some clues…"

Nagi "Yes, exactly."

The first time I went, nothing magical had happened. Or rather, I simply hadn't done anything.

All I did was watch the laundromat that was empty at that time of the day, and went back without doing anything.

The second time, I decided to get off my bike and get closer. The smell of fresh laundry that hit my nose made my heart squeeze painfully tight, so I'd quickly left it behind.

Even though I never found my mother, nor did I get any leads, I couldn't help but visit that laundromat over and over again. On one such day-

Old woman "Oh my, you've dropped by again?"

Nagi "Eh? Ah, um…."

The old lady who'd been cleaning inside the laundromat called out to me. And from the sounds of it, it seemed like she already knew about my existence. Well, I guess that's obvious when I'd visited this place so often now. I'd never even gone in to do my laundry, I wouldn't be surprised if she found me suspicious and yet-

Old woman "You must have really taken a liking to this place, hm? I'm happy if that's the case."

Nagi "Ah, yes…"

The old lady, whom I assume was the owner of the shop, didn't try to blame me or find me suspicious. Instead, she smiled cheerfully.

Nagi "Um, I don't have any laundry with me right now…"

Old woman "That's alright. I guess you must love the smell of laundry too, hm?"

Nagi "Huh?"

Old woman "I understand the feeling. Whenever I caught the scent of detergent within town, I couldn't help but stop to bask in it and sigh at how wonderful it smells.

I couldn't give her an honest response at the time, so all I could do was vaguely nod.

Old woman "Feel free to drop by again!"

By taking advantage of that invitation, I started visiting the laundromat regularly. Of course, this time I actually brought clothes to wash with me.

Mrs.Minemori "Hello Hachinoya-kun, it's quite hot out today isn't it? Make sure you hydrate well. Here's 2 litres of barley tea for you, make sure you take it home."

Nagi "Oh, um, thank you…"

Her name was Minemori-san. She was getting on in the years, but she still held a certain sharpness to her.

Mr.Minemori "Hey Hachinoya-kun, play some shogi with me while you wait for your laundry!"

Nagi "Eh? Um, ok…"

Once in a while, her husband would drop by the store as well, though it was very rare. He would speak in an Edoitte manner, that is, he was straightforward and just a bit forceful.

Nagi "If you could keep in mind that I'm less effective than an AI-bot then ok…"

Mr.Minemori "You got it!"

The couple lived on the 2nd floor of the laundromat, and they had a bluebird that they kept in their living room… I've gone up there many times because I couldn't help but want to see the bird.

Mrs.Minemori "Isn't it cute?"

Nagi "Yes."

Mr.Minemori "Is that chickweed you've brought with you?"

Nagi "Yes. I heard they were good for birds, so I foraged them from the nearby riverbank. But if you'd rather toss it out I'd understand."

I got a little ahead of myself, because I couldn't help but think that if I had people like them in my life, it would be a lot more fun.

Little by little, I couldn't help but be more greedy towards them, as though I were like their own grandson.

Not that I'd know what it was really like.

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 /Part 5

[that-left-turn]

Do you think the spinoff budget for writing is really low? I'm trying to understand why the writing is so bad when we used to have writing like the cherokee rose and "we have a future" etc.

[I can answer this in one sentence, but I'm not sure if it'll mean anything without context, so I'll put that behind a cut.]

Things vary a bit between studios and also with what kind of show it is that's produced, but the short answer to your question is: the writing can only ever be as good as the showrunner is at their job.

The studio makes a deal with the showrunner who hires people for the writers' room. WGA has established certain rates and fees that the writers get, but what kind of deal the studio strikes with the showrunner depends on their track record and reputation. Do they produce quality shows? Do they bring viewers on the strength of their previous work? Do they produce on time and under budget? Do they run a smooth, low-maintenance cast/crew? A seasoned showrunner who's a good plotter and knows how to keep trouble at bay, whether that's production hiccups or BTS antics, is worth a bigger paycheck.

Studios are obsessed with mini rooms these days and they like to let the rest of the writers go after pre-production, so the showrunner is often the only writer seeing the project through production, providing writing services on the set. The writers' room has to have at least three producer-level writers who has the necessary experience and skill level to manage a project, but if a show is shot on location, the studio normally doesn't want to send writers out (on-set experience is vital to learn how to produce) as a measure of cost cutting.

Anyway, the room breaks the story based on the showrunner's vision. The showrunner assigns who writes what episode. An episode goes through several stages (from outline to treatment to draft), all of which will be read and get notes by other people. Usually the second highest ranking writer does most of the hand-holding because the showrunner is busy with other things, but it depends on the size of the production and the room itself. If it's a small room and a short season, the showrunner might have eyes on everything at every stage.

Nothing passes from the room to the studio (or N/W EPs) without the showrunner having signed off on it. There's always a lot of people having many opinions on a script and it will go through many drafts before it gets 'locked' and handed over to the production crew to turn it into a production (shooting) script. Even after this point, the script isn't actually done. If the director has an opinion on something during the shoot, there might be changes to a scene. If a location becomes unavailable, the weather changes, someone has a rash/limp/bruise... physical changes necessitate on-set writing services. Things can get changed/tweaked in post-production too, e.g. a line will get rerecorded or cut.

Everything about a TV show is in a state of flux until post-production is done and the studio has approved the final version.

That's my roundabout way of saying that the writing can only be as good as the showrunner is. The showrunner decides on the pitch. It's their vision and tone for the show. It's the job of the other writers to replicate that voice. Showrunners will go in and rewrite things however they see fit, so it happens that things 'degrade' in revision if the showrunner is the weaker writer. A good showrunner recognizes the different strengths of their writers, puts the right person to write the right script and lets the writers feel like their contributions matter.

Individual writers have so little control of the content or the form, so it's up to the showrunner to manage them. Give them moments to shine, but for that to happen, the showrunner needs to have some self-awareness and be willing to incorporate new and better ideas when their writers pitch things. A big part of being the head writer of a show is the ability to listen to others who have more knowledge (or better imagination!) than you do, but the showrunner should be the strongest plotter on the show.

Obviously, AMC didn't pay for a showrunner who has worked steadily, who's adapted their skills to the new market model, or who values the input of others. Zabel's background is in traditional broadcast TV, writing procedural shows where characters are expected to service the external plot and get 'reset' to a certain degree at the end of the episode—there's not much character progression over a season. Zabel is far outside his comfort zone working in a new genre that he seems to have no more interest in than he does his inherited main character's backstory.

You get what you pay for and AMC didn't pay for top-shelf. They didn't even shell out for a halfway decent writer who's familiar with the source material. Zabel is the very definition of 'priced for a fast sell,' but that also makes him easy to control. He doesn't quite know what he should be doing or how, and he owes the male EPs for picking him out of that bargain bin.

That's why the writing is bad.

[dr-albertwesker]

[WESKER'S REPORT II / ALEXIA-I]

ALEXIA-1

1981.7.27 (Mon)

(Three years after previous record)

On this day, a 10-year-old girl was assigned as chief researcher to the Umbrella Antarctic Laboratory. Her name was "Alexia Ashford." At the time, I was 21-years-old and Birkin was 19. Even in our Arklay Laboratory, the only thing the researchers chattered about was that damned rumor of "Alexia in Antarctica." For the old men who had been with Umbrella for many years, it was due to the legendary status of the "Ashford family" name.

For a long time, whenever research came to a deadlock, those incompetent old men would routinely say this: "If only Dr. Edward were still alive."

To be sure, Edward Ashford was one of the discoverers of the Progenitor Virus and possibly a great scientist who laid the foundation for the t-Virus Project. But he died shortly after Umbrella was founded. Thirteen years had already passed since his death. What could we possibly expect from the Ashford family now?

In truth, in the thirteen years since Edward's death, the "Antarctic Laboratory" set up by his son had achieved zero results. His granddaughter Alexia's intellect was nothing special either! Nevertheless, after this day, those doddering old scum we had for subordinates had begun to let things slip. "If only Lady Alexia was here."

I worried over the future with fools like these under my command, capable only of judging a person by blood or famed family. That's why even at an age with one foot in the grave they were still lackeys who couldn't so much as twitch without someone else's directive!

...But I was still sensible.

If I, a chief, were to get angry, then t-Virus development in the Arklay Laboratory would be delayed even more. There was no possible success if I couldn't judge any situation calmly. Then I thought as follows. I could only achieve research results if I treated the notables of the old days well. Their old bodies could perish at any moment, appropriate for dangerous experiments.

How could you rise above people if you could not rationally utilize all human resources?

But the problem was Birkin. His reaction to the Alexia rumor was disastrous. Although he never said it out loud, for Birkin, initially being the youngest chief at 16-years-old must've been a source of pride for him. His pride was shattered to pieces by a 10-year-old girl. As a genius I think this would've been his first taste of the feeling of defeat. He was unable to accept it was a younger girl from a prestigious family. At the mercy of human issues, no research results had been achieved yet. He was still a child in the end. Mentally immature as he may have been though, I needed Birkin to recover one way or another.

In the past three years, our research entered the second stage.

Originally, the merit of a biological weapon was that it could be developed cheaply.

However, the Bio Organic Weapons we were studying had started to become extremely expensive. If making money had been Spencer's sole desire, he wouldn't have chosen this path. They would've been adequately profitable if used in conjunction with conventional weapon systems. But it wasn't profitable to continue studying some "standalone extermination weapon."

At this point in time, the t-Virus had been stabilized for the production of a Bio Organic Weapon nicknamed "Zombie." However, the genetic effects of a virus cannot be 100% certain. It was because there exists subtle differences in a person's genes according to the individual, and there's what's referred to as compatibility.

Approximately 10% of humans would escape the onset of symptoms even if infected by a Zombie. Even with sustained genetic research, there's nothing we can do to address this. If we made nine out of ten humans exhibit symptoms, it should've been sufficient for a weapon, but Spencer seemed to think differently. Our boss expected an independent weapon capable of exterminating 100% of humans, "that's it."

But for what exactly?

Why continue this research even if it's unprofitable, I wonder? I could understand the aim in "monopolizing the entire military industry" by shifting the very concept of war, but...

I still do not understand Spencer's true intentions.

Independent from Spencer's true goal, at this time Birkin was devising a Bio Organic Weapon emphasizing combat capabilities. He intended to create "them" by incorporating not only the t-Virus' genetic manipulation, but also the genetic information of other creatures.

A "combat-ready Bio Organic Weapon", later to become the "Hunter", that could eliminate even people who escape the onset of infection or possess anti-viral weapons and equipment.

However, we needed to suspend the experiments for a while. It was to protect the test subjects from Birkin. With his senseless impatience, Birkin began acting erratically in reaction to Alexia.

He stayed at the lab 24 hours a day repeating experiments on unplanned, ill-conceived ideas. I extracted as many organic samples as possible before the test subjects died, even using the other researchers to assist, but we couldn't keep up with his speed. The director would replenish the supply of test subjects as if nothing happened and they perished in no time.

That was Hell.

But only one survived in that hell, the female test subject. She was already 28-years-old. She had spent another fourteen years at this lab. She shouldn't have had any ability to think like a human due to the Progenitor Virus injection fourteen years ago, but if her mind remained, "death" was probably the end she desired.

But she clung to life.

Why could only she continue living like this? The experiment data from the other test subjects was no different at all.

I still needed a lot of time before I could solve this mystery.

(The record continues two years later)

[coochiequeens]

Why the hell would a man want his junk waxed by someone not trained to deal with duck and balls? Unless he gave a female name and didn’t disclose his sex so he can create a video for social media clout. And no he is suing for “moral damaging”. He exposed his junk to a to someone who thought they were working on a woman then got angry. If anyone should be saying for moral danger it’s the salon workers.

A Brazilian man who says he is “trans” and adopted the name Kim Flores Carlos, has filed a lawsuit against a waxing salon, which refused to serve him last year. Carlos booked a waxing appointment at Millanea Instituto de Depilação with the owner, Isabel Martins da Silva, by telephone.

But, when Carlos came to the salon for his appointment, they turned him down for being male. He recorded the interaction with an esthetician and with the owner, and uploaded it to his TikTok. It is said that he later removed the video from his account, but the video ended up on YouTube and went viral, with thousands of likes and shares.

Carlos also left a one star review about the salon on Google, saying that they refused to attend to him because he is a “transwoman.” He said the staff informed him that they don’t service trans people and don’t know how to “work” with his body. “They have no qualifications or work ethics about ‘diverse bodies.’ All the waxing clinics I went to strived for my comfort and well-being and offered a humanized service. Shame on this salon!”

On December 13, 2022, Carlos filed a lawsuit online (Special Civil Court) against the waxing salon, demanding compensation for “moral damages.” The salon was given 15 days to respond, and is seeking legal advice.

According to Ms Silva, the man gave a female name, “Kim,” when he booked the waxing appointment. When he arrived at the salon on June 11, 2022, Silva took him to a private room and called the female esthetician who was going to attend to him. But the esthetician came back to the reception minutes later, saying that the client was a man who was only wearing male briefs, with full male genitalia (testicles and penis) and had an erection.

“That’s when I asked her to tell him that we didn’t do waxing on males,” said Isabel. She says that when the esthetician went back to the room where Carlos was, he started recording the interaction, first with an esthetician and then with Isabel at the reception.

In the video, Carlos can be heard telling the unnamed esthetician “I am a trans person, is this an issue? It isn't, is it?” The esthetician who was assigned to attend to him that day is seen saying “We only do women here.” The man then says that “In this case, I am a woman.” He asks the esthetician if she’s had experience with “trans people” and she informs him that she never attended trans people. “We don’t have anything against trans people,” she says, “we just don’t do it (waxing on male genitalia),” but told him she was going to take the issue up to the owner of the salon.

At this point, Carlos became angry and admonished the esthetician for not being trained in “all types of bodies.” Next, he was heard saying he is very upset because he has “never seen a waxing salon which doesn’t work with several types of bodies.” Further, he told the esthetician that they should have “specialized a little more” to attend to “all kinds of people,” questioning her: “Where is it written we don’t attend people with x or y genitals?’”

When the esthetician tells Carlos that the salon doesn’t wax men, he is heard saying “Then you have to put a sign saying ‘we only wax pussies.’” But Isabel told 4W that they have a sign at the salon’s entrance saying “No entry for men.”

The next woman in his video is Isabel herself. “You can see me in the video saying to him that we don’t wax male genitalia because the estheticians at my salon are not trained for that,” Isabel told 4W. The man says to the owner that it’s “embarrassing” for him to book an appointment and hear that they “only wax women.”

Carlos is heard saying to Isabel: “I wax for years, my [pubic hair] is very thin, I take hormones, what makes me different from other people? Is it my genitals? But, why do (my genitals) matter?”

This is not the first time a salon specialized in female waxing has refused to serve men who say they are trans. In Canada, Jonathan (who calls himself Jessica) Yaniv filed lawsuits with the British Columbia Human Rights Tribunal in 2018 against at least 15 beauty salons after they refused the service to him for being male. The next year, after a judge found Yaniv “deceptive,” targeting “small businesses for financial gain,” the case was dismissed.

[captainremmington-13]

New Year, Same Problems

A Bellova x Coriolanus One-Shot

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova. I also do not condone the beliefs or actions of Coriolanus or Bellova.

Summary: A week before the beginning of the school year, the Academy hosts an orientation night for new and returning students. As the top members of the upcoming senior class, Coriolanus and Bellova are instructed to write and present a two-person speech during the lecture part of orientation. Neither of them are thrilled. 

⚠️Warnings⚠️: swearing, alcohol consumption

A/n: This takes place at the beginning of their senior year of the Academy. Also, I HIGHLY recommend you catch up on my series, A Lady Made of Snow, before reading this.

“No, I will not reconsider. You two have the best grades and academic records in your class. Therefore, you must be the ones to give the speech.”

Bellova’s jaw clenched, and her lips curled into a snarl. “Fine.” She pushed past Coriolanus and exited the room, muttering profanities under her breath. 

Professor Satyria Click sighed. “As brilliant as she is, she has room to grow in the emotional control department.”  

Coriolanus laughed good-naturedly. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Satyria looked at the clock hung just above the door. “Well, I don’t want to keep you waiting. The luncheon has probably already started, I don’t want you to miss the opportunity to catch up with your friends.” 

Coriolanus smiled. “Of course. I’ll see you at the orientation, professor.”

He gave her a parting kiss on the cheek and left the room, heading towards Heavensbee Hall, where a luncheon was being held just for the new senior class of the Academy. The seniors had been required to attend a meeting regarding the beginning-of-the-year orientation held for new and returning students. As the highest and oldest class, they assisted the teachers in explaining the ways of the school. Many of them were assigned with showing new students around the campus. 

However, being the top students of their grade, Bellova and Coriolanus has been tasked with writing a speech about their experience attending the Academy. When Professor Click told them this, they both protested, insisting that they should write separate speeches instead of collaborating. But alas, their complaints went unheard.

Bellova sat at a small table, purposefully ignoring anyone who tried to converse with her. The school year hadn’t even started yet, and she was being forced to work with her most irritating classmate. 

She wasn’t surprised that Satyria had paired them up. They both had solid social skills, and excelled in public speaking. In short, they were the definition of model students. 

“Bellova!”

She scowled, looking down at the table to avoid making eye contact with the person who called her name. “Leave me alone.”

Coriolanus sat down across from her. “Believe me, I wish I could,” he began. “It’s not like I enjoy working with you, but I have no choice in the matter.”

Bellova sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the pang or hurt the insult caused. “We need to get started on the speech as soon as possible. I don’t want to leave it until the last minute, like that one time in History-“

“Will you drop it?” Coriolanus snapped, his lips curled into a small pout. “I’ve apologized to you thousands of times already, you’re just trying to get a rise out of me.”

She smirked. “Anyways,” she said, ignoring his frustration. “I’d invite you to work at my place, but my father has an important meeting with some Senators and would hate to have any extra visitors. So we could go to your penthouse instea-“

“No,” Coriolanus said hastily. “No, we can’t.”

Bellova’s eyes narrowed. “And why not?”

“My Grandma’am is sick, and she does not want to be disturbed.”

Bellova knew he was lying. He may have been able to fool others, but not her. He knew that she read him like a book, and usually didn’t try deceiving her. But for some reason, he felt it was necessary this time.

She shrugged, brushing it off. “Alright. Then what about the library? I think it’s open to seniors and staff, but not to the other students. It’ll be nice and quiet.” 

Coriolanus nodded. “That sounds fine. What time do you want to meet?”

“Three o’clock. I have a manicure appointment at one that’ll take at least an hour, but I should be able to make it to the library by then.”

Coriolanus scoffed. “You’re such a princess.” 

Bellova flipped him off while simultaneously taking a sip of her drink. He rolled his eyes and stood up, slinging his Academy bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later,” he said, and walked away briskly.

She watched Coriolanus leave the hall, her gaze burning into the back of his head.

Silently, she hoped he would put his bitchy behavior aside while writing the speech with her. Or she’d be tempted to stage an unfortunate accident so she could do the whole thing herself. 

________________________________________________

Bellova stifled a yawn behind her perfectly-manicured hand, glancing at the ginormous clock on the wall of the library. She had been working non-stop for almost three hours, and her body was beginning to shut down. She was tired, hungry, and thirsty, effectively putting her in an agitated mood.

They had made adequate progress, at least. Only a few sections remained unwritten, and they were certain they’d complete it before the sun set.

Coriolanus nudged her elbow, causing her to recoil instinctively. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

Bellova scowled. “Nothing. Focus on your work.”

“Technically, it’s our work. It’s a co-written speech.”

“God, Coryo, can you just shut up for once?�� she hissed, rubbing her temples aggressively. “You’re giving me a fucking headache.”

The boy frowned, setting down his pen. “Seriously, what’s going on? You always have an attitude, but this is a bit much, even for you.”

Bellova slumped forwards, crossing her arms and resting her chest and head against the table they were working at. “I don’t feel well.”

Coriolanus sighed. “You forgot to eat a proper lunch again, didn’t you?”

She huffed. “How did you know?“

“You do that far too often, especially when you have a lot of work to do.”

“I didn’t know that you noticed. Or cared.”

Coriolanus frowned, and stood up from his chair. 

“Where are you going?“ she murmured, her eyes closing due to fatigue.

“To get you food and some coffee. If we’re going to finish this speech tonight, you need your energy back. I don’t want you dozing off while we’re supposed to be working. I’d have to douse you with water to wake you up.”

Bellova groaned, still resting her head against the table. “Don’t you fucking dare, Snow. I’ll bury you alive.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” Coriolanus pushed pushed in his chair and left the library, silently thanking the founders of the Academy for allowing cafeteria food to be free for students. 

He barely had enough money to pay for his own food, let alone pay for someone’s who never had to worry about going hungry.

.

.

.

Coriolanus returned shortly, placing a steaming mug of coffee and a sandwich before Bellova. She was still resting on the table, and her breathing had slowed. She was asleep.

He sighed, and patted her on the shoulder gently. No response. He prodded at her arm a few times, which did nothing. 

Finally, he resorted to poking her in the ribs.

“What the-“ Bellova jolted awake, instinctively swatting at whoever had touched her. Coriolanus barely managed to avoid getting scratched by her nails. “What the hell was that?”

“I brought you food. Now eat.”

She sat up slowly, muttering curses under her breath. “No need to be so bitchy about it, Coryo.” But she complied, quickly eating the sandwich and drinking half of her coffee before speaking again. 

“That better?”

She nodded. “Yes, I feel much less brain-dead than before.”

Coriolanus smiled slightly. “Good. Now let’s keep going.”

________________________________________________

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

“Fuck!” Bellova shrieked, hurling her lipstick across the room, not caring where it landed. 

She had spent almost three hours getting ready for the orientation. It took her half an hour to decide on an outfit, and she eventually picked out black dress pants, a black corset that definitely pushed the Academy dress code, and a black blazer. She paired that with extremely high platform heels. Ever since Coriolanus had surpassed her in height, she wore heels when he was in her presence.

She was going to be really late if she wasted any more time.

She darted out of her room and down the stairs to meet her driver, snatching her purse off the table and practically pushing the Avox at the door aside to exit the building. 

Her driver started the car as soon as she entered it. As they drove towards the Academy, Bellova tried to gather her bearings. She didn’t want to make a bad first impression on any of the new students. Even though some of them were still quite young, she knew they could be incredibly judgmental. 

She also knew she and Coriolanus would be labeled as role models. They had always been star students, the top of their class, and avoided trouble. The only exception was the whispered banter that sometimes got heated during in-class discussions, and the arguments that occurred once class was no longer in session. 

If they were both less stubborn, they’d make an exceptional team. Alas, neither of them were ever willing to back down and admit defeat, so the game would continue. 

Unless one of them was forced to quit.

.

.

.

Bellova practically sprinted through the sea of students, searching for Professor Click. Heavensbee Hall was packed, as the entire student body was crammed into a single room. 

Finally, she spotted the communications professor at the front of the room, talking to Professor Demigloss. “Professor Click!” she said over the noise, maneuvering her way through the crowd. 

“Oh hello, Bellova, dear,” Satyria beamed. “We were worried you wouldn’t be coming.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said apologetically. The professor waved her hand dismissively.

“No need to worry, we’re running behind schedule anyways. You go catch up with your friends and I’ll fetch you and Mister Snow when it’s time for your speech.”

Bellova nodded, and went to go find her fellow seniors. Within seconds, she found her group of friends standing near the beverage table. 

“There she is!” Persephone said happily, coming over and practically dragging her towards the group, which consisted of Festus Creed, Lysistrata Vickers, Felix Ravinstill, Diana Ring, Arachne Crane, Clemensia Dovecote, and Sejanus Plinth. 

“Hi there, Bellova,” Sejanus said, giving her a warm smile. “We were wondering when you’d show up.”

She winced slightly. “I was running a bit late. I put a little too much time into my makeup, because I insisted on doing it myself instead of having my stylist do it. She always pokes me in the eye while doing eyeliner, it’s quite annoying.” 

Arachne giggled, and Bellova bit the inside of her lip to keep from wincing. Arachne’s laugh sounded as atrocious as nails raking across a chalkboard.

“Well, you look beautiful,” Felix said. “I’d say you’re most beautiful girl in the senior class.”

Bellova smiled, though the comment made her slightly uneasy. She knew Felix still had feelings for her, despite them coming to an agreement to just be friends. He had confessed his love for her at the last end-of-year gala, but she politely turned him down. 

“Hey!” Arachne protested, elbowing Felix. “There’s other girls standing here, you know.”

Felix grimaced, rubbing the spot on his arm where Arachne had made contact. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

The Crane heir opened her mouth to protest again, but Dean Highbottom’s amplified voice over the speakers cut her off. 

“Students, please take a seat. The orientation is about to officially begin.”

As everyone around her began finding a place to sit, Bellova saw Professor Click standing near the small stage at the front of the room She rushed over, tapping her on the arm to get her attention. 

“Hello again,” the professor said, smiling. “Coriolanus should be making his way over any time now. You two will give your speech after Professor Sickle talks.” 

As if on cue, Coriolanus appeared at Bellova’s side. He was wearing a dark purple dress shirt and black slacks. It briefly reminded her of a luxurious purple coat he used to wear all the time as a little boy. 

“How are you feeling about this?” he asked her quietly. 

“Fine, I suppose. I’m good at public speaking, so I’m not worried.”

Coriolanus hummed, glancing around the room. “The lowest level of students looks younger and younger every year, I swear.”

“That’s because we’re getting older, Coryo,” Bellova replied in a condescending tone.

Instead of insulting her like she expected, he laughed. “I suppose so. But some things never really change.” 

“True. We’ve always been each other’s fiercest competition, and I doubt that’ll ever stop.” 

He shrugged. “We’ll see.”

________________________________________________

“Oh, well done, you two!” Professor Click squealed. “That was perfect!”

Coriolanus and Bellova looked at each other, exchanging happy grins. They had been flawless, and the students seemed much more interested in their speech than the teachers’s.

“Thank you, professor,” they said in unison. 

“I should have you work together far more often,” Professor Click gushed. “You’re such a good team.”

Bellova stepped away from Coriolanus instinctively. “Yes…Yes, we are,” she said, lying through her teeth. 

The professor didn’t seem to notice. “Enjoy yourselves for the rest of the night, you’ve earned it.” And with that, she departed. 

Coriolanus turned to Bellova. “I’m not sure I’ll survive another year of doing projects with you.”

Bellova rolled her eyes playfully. “Fuck off, Coryo.“

He smirked. “Such vulgar language for a Capitol heiress.”

“I’ll always speak my mind, no matter what.” Bellova grabbed two drinks off the tray of a passing Avox, and handed one to Coriolanus. “You need to unwind.”

“I agree,” Coriolanus said, taking the glass. He raised it, signaling a toast. “To success?”

“To success.” They room small sips of the champagne, and smiled at each other. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but something about his presence was making her skin feel clammy and her heart beat irregularly. 

A small group of students approached them, giggling loudly. They couldn’t have been much older than thirteen. Bellova raised an eyebrow, stepping backwards slightly. 

“Can we help you?” she asked. 

One of the girls stepped forward, her cheeks flushing red with nervousness. “Um…we just wanted to say th-that you’re both really smart and cool.”

Coriolanus chuckled. “Thanks.”

Clearly, the young Academy students were enamored by Coriolanus. Bellova didn’t blame them. If she was in their place, she’d be nervous too. 

One of the boys coughed up. “I have a question.” 

“Yes?” 

“Are you two dating?“

Bellova saw Coriolanus’s face turn pink. She laughed, turning to face the boy who had just spoken. 

“No, we’re not. In fact, I’d rather die than be his girlfriend.”

“Hey!” Coriolanus exclaimed. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” 

She shrugged. “It’s true.” 

It was a lie, a bold-faced one. 

But unlike Coriolanus, she was skilled in the art of deception.

.

.

.

“Well, I think I’m going to head home,” Bellova said, her head resting against Persephone’s. She’d been at the Academy for hours, and was tired of the loud chatter of her fellow students. 

“Alright,” Persephone said warmly, squeezing her friend’s hand. “I look forward to seeing you on the first day of classes!”

Bellova kissed her on the cheek and bid farewell to the rest of her friends. She exited through the large doors of Heavensbee Hall, and walked down the several flights of stairs it took to reach Scholars Road.

On the ride home, she couldn’t help but contemplate the awkward question that young boy asked. Honestly, the audacity of adolescents to ask their superiors such personal things! Bellova would never have asked a senior student something like that when she was their age. 

Not only was it nosy of them, it forced her to imagine what it would be like to have Coriolanus as a romantic partner. She was sure it would be her own personal hell. They already fought so often, and dating would only make the animosity worse. 

But there would be some positive elements. He was charming, well-mannered, socially and academically intelligent, and undeniably handsome. She was genuinely surprised he’d never had a girlfriend. He’d been asked out by many people in the past, but turned them all down. It made sense, given that he saw them as unequal to him. 

The only one he had ever admitted was on his level was Bellova.

She sighed. She knew that one day, he would aspire to find someone to pursue a relationship with and marry. 

But nobody in the Capitol was truly good enough for him.

Except for herself. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy, @effectwalker, @mystargirl-interlude

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile now, and finally had a chance to turn it into an full one-shot.

If you have any one-shot ideas, pls leave a comment below or send something to my inbox!

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Why do rumors about Harry and Meghan don’t seem to stick but rumors about William and Kate do? I mean, among a certain demographic or type of people at least. With rumors about H&M, I only ever see people who hate them repeat those rumors, and quite frankly, sometimes they start to sound a bit extreme to me if I try to take a step back from the internet & remember I don’t actually know these people. But with rumors about William and Kate, they get traction outside the sussex squad circle, particularly on Twitter. They get made fun of a lot and I just get this heavy feeling because I feel like there’s so much anger from the sussex squad that they would literally say the worst things about W&K (I see that there’s also so much anger towards Meghan and Harry but of course I have my bias so I feel bad about the ones about W&K more. It’s annoying when some social justice warrior on Twitter say things like “these people defending Kate, do you do the same for Meghan?”. Like, I’m defending Kate because I’m a fan, duh.) l. But anyway, outside our little circle here, people don’t take seriously the rumors regarding Meghan’s kids, for example. Like, some people here say there are rumors that Harry was violent to women, but outside the little circle of extreme royalists/wales fans, nobody thinks of Harry as a violent man. But they do genuinely believe the rumors about William and Kate even though they do not have any proof or whatsoever. They genuinely believe Kate is a victim of William, that he cheats on her, that he’s a bully.

I responded to someone who was spreading some wrong information about Kate’s sick leave (they said it was weird they didn’t post a photo for her birthday — i said they don’t do that every year, they said it was weird they didn’t release a photo of william taking care of the kids/it’s weird we haven’t seen the kids — i said it’s not weird because we only see the kids a few times a year, they said 9 months was weird — i said KP never said 9 months!) I literally simply corrected the wrong information the person was spewing. And then someone responded to me that I sound like the “leave britney alone” people, perhaps implying that i am a part of the problem because I am not entertaining the idea that Kate might need help?? Just because I think before jumping into conspiracy theories? Anyway, it was just a random person on the internet and I shouldn’t be bothered, but still… lol.

That was on reddit. I probably should just avoid that place if the things people have been saying make me feel bad but I wanted to set the record straight lol. Anyway, I also saw some people there quoting articles and stuff about William’s alleged temper. And I’m just like people have been talking about Harry’s temper for years too and they’ve also been documented in articles and books! I guess the difference for them is that Harry has been so open about his therapy.

I also have a confession to make. I was curious about the nature of rumors, so I did a little experiment and sent a tip to deuxmoi to see how easy it really is for anyone to just send it whatever. I didn’t want to make up something really potentially damaging, so I sent something innocent. I just said Meghan wants to work with Greta Gerwig. It got posted but didn’t get any attention. But I feel like if someone sent it something there like Meghan has a sex kink or whatever it still wouldn’t make as much traction as whatever sexual rumor they assigned to William. It would be seen as really disgusting (and rightly so). I mean, I probably shouldn’t feel that bad for a man who would be king and has the resources to protect himself, but people have been sexualizing William perhaps since he turned 18 and the rumors sussex squad spread about him are just another way of doing that.

It’s bothering me these days to be honest. I fear logging on to the internet fearing the things I will see about W&K. I certainly need to step back lol. I also remind myself there are things beyond our control. I look at it from a historical perspective, like there are rumors Anne Boleyn had six toes. So I guess it just comes with the territory for William and Kate that people could say absolutely anything about them.

Part of it probably is that it comes with the territory for William and Kate. Everyone in positions of power have an opposition that wants to weaken their impact so they use gossip as a tool to undermine them. Celebrities, politicians, athletes, rival friend groups in school.

But there are also two other reasons to consider.

First is that we don't actually know a whole lot about William and Kate. Despite being incredibly popular and famous, they're actually pretty private. We don't really know who William and Kate (as well as George, Charlotte, and Louis) are beyond what they have said in interviews or done in public on their engagements. They also don't speak to the press, fully adhering to "never complain, never explain." So because we don't know a whole lot about them, it's easier to make things up to justify, explain, or describe what we see. It sticks because they're never going to address it: not to confirm, not to deny, not to deflect.

Unlike Meghan and Harry. They're constantly talking to the press and constantly addressing whatever is being said about them. They give us information to that justifies, explains, describes what they do. We don't need to make stuff up because they're giving it to us on a silver platter. But more than that, specifically when it comes to the more egregious rumors like the ones about their children, they go straight to the narcisstic DARVOing, which is particularly effective at getting people to stop talking about you.

Second is that the Sussexes have the power of repetition. The rumors they create and the stories they tell about the Waleses stick because they keep being told. They sell the same story to People, Page Six, The Cut, E News, the Daily Mail, and Netfilix. Then they tell the same story to Scobie, Abigail Spencer, MIsan, Oprah, Tyler Perry, CDAN, DeuxMoi, Bouzy, and the social media bots. And all those publications, all those people, all those bots talk about it so it picks up traction, everyone repeats it, and it spreads like wildfire. Because the Sussexes have told so many people, there are many sources talking about it, so the general public is more likely to believe it - "I heard it from X, Y, Z, and 1, 2, 3, so it MUST be true."

Unlike William and Kate, who don't have pet reporters or pet publications or bots to fight these battles with. At most, they talk to one reporter for an exclusive every 2-3 months, if even. So because there's no "institutional backing" to Sussex rumors that spend the time and effort to keep them in the public space (like Oprah, Netflix, People, or even the Waleses themselves) long enough for the more mainstream public to become aware, the Sussex rumors die on the vine and everyone who talks about it looks unhinged.

That's why Kensington Palace speaking to Page Six was so groundbreaking. It's the first time the Waleses met the Sussexes where they are and hints that they're aware the Sussexes may have had a hand in creating the controversy. Usually when KP speaks to Americans, they do it through traditional mainstream press (the New York Times, Washington Post, NBC, ABC, etc.). They've never gone directly and personally to a Sussex/Meghan PR mouthpiece before.

(I don't count People as a Sussex-exclusive source because the BRF has used People long before Meghan came around. People takes stories from anyone with the money to pay them.)

[reyofluke-ocs]

OCs DESERVE BETTER -> Jackson & Daniel "Danny" Prescott (The Walking Dead) Danny FC: Walker Scobell Jackson FC: Daniel Sharman

"My little brother is the ONLY good thing in my life." * "He basically raised me."

Jackson and Danny grew up with parents who could have cared less about their two children, especially after their father up and left when Danny was barely two years old. Jackson primarily raised his younger brother, sometimes being driven to do extreme things to get money - things that eventually catch up and land him in juvie, where he is assigned King County Sheriff Department Officer Peyton Myers as his parole officer. Having had bad experiences with law enforcement, he is expecting her to be like everyone else - only for her to surprise him by caring. Enough that he opens up about why he seems to be in and out of juvie - it's all for the sake of his younger brother. When an ex-boyfriend of their mother's shows up and gets violent, Jackson grabs Danny and runs to Peyton's, knowing with his record he'll be the first suspect if things take a turn of the worst and not trusting the justice system, he goes to the one person he thinks he can trust.

Instead of Peyton, however, the brothers end up at her neighbor Nico Sanchez's house, who is visibly confused and concerned but still invites them in and calls Peyton, who immediately calls dispatch to the Prescott trailer. And Jackson's worst fears are confirmed: the boyfriend got too violent and police immediately think Jackson did it. But with Peyton and - to his surprise - another King County Deputy on his side, the investigation turns to the ex-boyfriend. Knowing that even though he's 18 and the only blood family Danny has left that the court will never give him custody, he begins to put a plan into place where Peyton or even Nico could adopt Danny while he gets his life together.

Knowing he did what he could and that Danny was under temperary guardianship of Peyton, Jackson takes a job in Atlanta that will also pay for room and board... just in time for the dead to rise up. Frantic, he tries to get back to Danny, but finds both the Myers and Sanchez home are empty. Jackson just survives, hoping to one day reunite the Danny... until he gets found and later recruited by a group calling themselves 'the Saviors' and their leader, Negan.

As for Danny, since Peyton wasn't home, he ran to Nico's house, where the man grabbed him and ran, the two protecting and looking out for each other until they found sanctuary in a small community called 'Woodbury' that seems to be a utopia to the hellhole the world has become. Still, he knows Nico doesn't trust the place, though he also knows the man only stays for Danny... and that the man is ready to once again grab Danny and run.

tagging: @endless-oc-creations@stanshollaand, @foxesandmagic , @hiddenqveendom , @arrthurpendragon ,@cas-verse, @eddiemunscns , @far-shores, @oneirataxia-girl, if anyone wants to be added/removed or I accidentally forgot, please let me know!

[ineffable-endearments]

Rotating questions in my mind

With the opening titles, trailer, and teaser for Good Omens 2, plus what a lot of people are considering a colossal spoiler, it kind of FEELS like we got a ton of information over the past two weeks or so. We definitely have more of a sense for the flavor of the series, and lots of people have already started forming interpretations. But there are so many questions. This morning, I was turning over "things I'm curious about" in my head and here are some of them.

What caused Gabriel to lose his memory and why? Is this something someone did on purpose, or did it happen for mysterious supernatural reasons? Is he going to get his memory back? Is he faking? What's it going to be like, having him around with no memory? If he gets it back, what will THAT be like? Will he change?

What is in the dang box?

Why would Heaven send Muriel to spy on Aziraphale, instead of sending someone who knows what's going on?

In the opening credits, what are the flaming animals about? The magic show? The tartan hills? The portion of the opening that takes place in space? The raining hearts? Thy Kingdom Come Airlines?

Apparently Aziraphale and Crowley try to "fix a human romance." What does that mean?! Like, why are they even so invested? Is it really Maggie and Nina? (I mean, I'm like 99.99% sure at this point, but no source has actually SAID it's them.) How is this gonna tie into the amnesiac Gabriel plot?

OK, so we're pretty sure there's a human corpse in that pickled herring barrel. Who is it? How are Aziraphale and Crowley involved?

Is there actual time travel, or a lot of flashbacks, or both?

Is Shax friend or foe or in her own category? Do she and Crowley know each other from before, or is she newly assigned to spy on him? What's Eric up to in those sequences where he's in the bookshop?

What's going on with Beelzebub? Did they experience their own equivalent of what happened to Gabriel?

Why is there a record machine in a pub playing only "Everyday" by Buddy Holly? Is this like what's going on with the Bentley? (That's not my idea. I saw someone else mention it. But I do remember Neil answering an ask saying we'd learn more about the Bentley, so that convinces me that person was onto something about the record machine.)

How does Aziraphale start a war (again?!)?

IDK. We have SO MUCH in front of us. 44 days to go...

[acreattaviacco]

My MLQC Experience Log#1

Welcome to my somewhat reaction, I just want to gush about this game. I didn't know anything about this game but I like the art and premise so yeah!

I am not gonna get attached to these characters real quick no I am not

First time doing this let's go

First things first, hello our cute MC❤️

I must admit I did not expect we would run a company let alone our parents died???? But glad to know we have a backstory for ourselves

Another thing that surprised me was that they did voice acting in English!

Unfortunately, we didn't meet Victor in person but the first one we did meet was KIRO!...Oh no....I'm in trouble

Sir you smell like sunshine and that innocent smile is making me melt

You are literally shinning aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh🔅

also-

Don't do this Kiro (Childhood) friends-to-lovers trope is my weakness so don't add more fuel to the fire but sure I can give the prize card inside the potato chips. He's so extroverted!! But he's so sweet 💕

After our separate ways, we try going back to our company and-

Hello there Victor sudden entrance but thanks for saving me. (Wait what do you mean I am an Evol?) Sadly it was short but now it's Gavin!!!

Wait!! Gavin!!...you just left

Okay new plan for the last episode of Miracle Finder instead of Kiro it's Lucien the Professor but

Not only that he was really good at being cheeky and a tease I might have gone red from that conversation alone! Can you blame me? The man slowly whispered in our ear and hahahahahahaha😳

Okay👍

Luckily He agreed to be on the show and I like this side of him as well

aaaaawww 10/10 Domestic life Husband material

After finishing the last episode some good news!

I didn't mention this earlier but the side characters have sprites, some even have voices which is really nice

Now we report the good news to our boss, negotiate and-

Can we trick him with puppy eyes? Oh he's a cat person sadge : (

Okay, seriously both Lucien and Victor's voices are so soothing to hear can you record an audiobook for us? no wait I would sleep through it

Though this is funny

I really like Victor, he's the right amount of tsundere that I like it's cute. Sadly he had the last laugh

We are going through places so fast and this is chapter 2 But we get to meet Gavin now!

You faced Victor you'll be fine...wait he works as a cop?

WAIT! WAIT! WAIT! WAIT! GAVIN! WE ARE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS :D !!!!!

But at the same time aaawww Gavin what happened? What blood-soaked letter? I need to know more!!! (Also that scar, he doesn't hide it)

Hahahahahahaha I'm sorry why are you a lot cuter now? The fact we go to the same school and even after all these years? Shoot weren't we here on assignment?

After that investigation, there is this

It's sweet only to realize it's a tracker(Actually don't mind this, no I am not delulu) But hey the sentiment is there!

Now to report to Victor! But if he was my boss in real life I swear to you unless he makes moves first I would just be talking business and nothing else

I know we are in the entertainment industry but man our life is dramatic

Dammit why do you have to be our boss, still would romance you though, and 0 to 100 real quick

You call us from time to time and I wonder why Victor is so uh..."soft" to us. Don't stop though keep calling and texting even how much you deny it 💗

After that Business deal, we went out and dun dun dun trouble

!

Hooray! The sweet release of death! /j (Seriously I am joking but a lot of people want us dead)

Luckily Gavin (and Lucien's advice) saves the day!

I know the main story is linear but I still feel spoiled by all these CGs it feels unreal

Also did not expect I would fall for Gavin this hard, look at that warm smile!!! :D

It's nice to know we are still wearing our tracker, no I still don't mind this (Okay maybe I am a little delulu but let me have this)

I will gush on you later my sweet Kiro for now I will add you to the list of my bundle of sunshine characters I love and adore(It's a small list but I adore them aahhhhh)

Chapter two is done!

That's about it I haven't even touched the dates and events heck there are so many I just wanted to focus on the main story, for now, I need to figure out the game mechanics and grind to level up my cards

I should have looked at a tutorial first but now I will!!

@jozhenji , @celiciaa must taggy tag you :D

[uriekukistan]

omggg you're studying history!!!! that's so interesting, i love it! it was my fav subject while on high school 🥺 what's your fav period? what do you like the most about the major?

sending hugs 🫂🫂

ohhh this is actually kinda hard bc have a different fav period for different places if that makes sense. but i guess i've most consistently enjoyed classical history like since i was really young (so like ancient greece, ancient egypt, early roman empire). i even wrote fanfic abt the roman empire when i was in middle school (not historical fiction. specifically fanfic. with a self insert oc).

specifically i've always been really interested in alexander the great for some reason. like i am a one-person alexander the great fanclub, i think he was so cool. and he literally changed the entire course of history, ik that can be said for a lot of people, but considering the timing of it, it was just so impressive.....his empire was larger than the ottoman empire but like 2000 years earlier and he made it with like. way less troops and rudimentary military tech. took on a military like 6x his own and won. what a guy.

but i also really like 1300-1700 east asian history. the mongol invasion makes a really interesting dynamic. also an enjoyer of medieval europe. ugh. so so many interesting history things but im just rambling now.

honestly the history major is very different than the class was in high school, but still so fun. i get to work with a lot of documents which is cool (hence why i speak japanese, bc i work w a lot of early modern japanese documents for research purposes). probably one of my fav assignments i had was looking through old newspapers, finding Just Some Guy and using census documents, birth/death certificates, property records, etc, to write their biography. it was such an interesting experience.

thank you for the ask!! hope you're well :D