#So they like to keep a close eye on her when she crosses into their territory

[playnextdoor]

dating modern abby headcannons

cw: both sfw and nsfw

Abby didn’t know naps could be a luxury until she met you. She was always on her feet, never stopping long enough to close her eyes for a "weak" 30 minutes. But now? That quick nap became her personal slice of heaven. Her cranky, sleep-deprived self would curl up next to you, her face buried in your neck. By the time she woke, she’d be all sunshine, grinning like she hadn’t just been grumbling an hour ago.

Sweet tooth!!!!!!! She loves sweets, especially dark chocolate. If you ever peek into her bedside drawer, you’ll find a nearly demolished chocolate bar waiting for her nightly ritual.

“What?” she says with a shrug, stuffing a square into her mouth. “I like a piece of chocolate before bed,” Her eyebrows furrow as she chews, eyeing you like you’re judging her life choices.

“Nothing,” you chuckle, watching her puffed cheeks work overtime. “I never met anyone who would do that.”

Her arms crossed immediately, mock-offended. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh my god, Abigal, nothing, it’s cute.” You lean in, silencing her pout with a kiss, the faint bitterness of chocolate lingering on her lips.

Abby has a thing for books. Not just reading them—collecting them. We’re talking first editions, special releases, and rare overseas copies. This girl gets down. Her study practially a library, shelves nearly touching the ceiling filled with books, some on display and some in special casings. You even catch her one day, headphones blasting as she carefully and meticulously cleaned some of the books. The music was so opposite to what she was doing, her hands handling the covers so carefully. Instantly wet holyyyyyy

This goes with her being veryyyy clean and organized. It was so cute when you snooped in her drawers, her undergarments folded up so neatly in rows, and her socks in perfect little squares. 

She likes her space, which you understood very early in the relationship. Sometimes, the two of you would be on separate ends of the couch, her playing some game on the TV while you color in your coloring books, or when she would carve out days for the two of you and then days for just her. She loved you dearly, and it was just that she needed the only time to recharge.

Really into speakeasies. It’s her preferred place to grab a drink with you. The dim lighting, quiet atmosphere, and cozy corners make it her ideal date spot. She also likes sitting with you in some dimly lit corner, you more tipsy than her, laughing hysterically at some awful joke she said. If you really wanted to go to a club and shake ass, you bet Abby is going to take you, but she’s just gonna stand behind you like an awkward teenage boy getting grinded on for the first time.

This girl is not big on PDA, sorry not sorry. She’ll hold your hand, wrap her arm around you, maybe a kiss here and there, but she will most likely shy away from anything else, not that she’s embarrassed, she prefers to keep things just for you and her.

Food is Abby’s love language! Loves cooking, loves trying new places, loves eating, period. How else do you think she keeps her physique?

Speaking of muscles, the gym is practically her second home. She’s not a gym rat per se, but she’s got a solid routine, especially when it comes to upper body days. She loves how her arms look in T-shirts, but she loves that you love them even more.

Keys clanked into the trinket dish as Abby slipped off her shoes. Just getting back from the gym, all she is thinking about is going straight to the shower; once wet with sweat, her shirt feels disgusting on her. She sees you eyeing her from the kitchen, occasionally looking up from your phone, eyes lingering on her bulging arms; the pump did her good today because you’re ready to strip naked right there. She flashes a knowing smile as she puts her things away. She strides towards you, coming next to you to place a kiss on your head.

“How was the gym?” turning off your phone to provide her the full attention she most definitely deserved, hand creeping to caress the veins that littered down her forearms all the way up to the hard muscle on her bicep, squeezing it.

Abby just watches you, smile bitten back as you look almost in awe at how fucking massive her arms are, your sweet eyes meeting up to hers.

“Good,” she murmurs, watching your fascination. Her voice drops, low and teasing. “Something on your mind?”

“Mmm,” you hum, nails raking lightly over her back. She groans softly, and you know exactly where this is going.

nsfw

Boobs. Loves boobies. Likes to look at them, have them in her hands, in her mouth. Sure, she appreciates your ass—who wouldn’t? But there’s just something about slipping your nipple into her mouth, especially in those early morning hours. The sensation wakes you in a frenzy, loving how Abby does this for herself. Or when the two are cuddling, she’ll sometimes lay her face in them, the warmth of your scent lulling her to sleep.

Pronebone is her favorite position aside from missionary. Any time and any day, she is tightening the straps and fucking you into the mattress.

Speaking of tightening straps, the first time you did it, Abby nearly came, hips stuttering as she felt the firm tug of your hand tightening one of the straps that sat at her hip. Lord have mercyyy just thinking about how she would just pant above you, her golden hair cascading around your face like a curtain. Her hips moved against yours in a rhythm so devastatingly slow and deliberate hnghhhhhhh

Stone top AT FIRST. She told you right before your first time together, you didn’t mind, genuinely. You have always been on both the receiving and giving end, so you were willing to be open for your girlfriend. And fuck how much it turned you on when Abby would slip a hand in her own pants as she ate you out, nearly heaving into you as you both came. It wasn't until a couple of months into the relationship that you asked.

Grinding down on her jean-clad thigh, the rough seam pressed perfectly against your cunt, drawing out a needy whimper that matched the low groans spilling from Abby’s lips. Her soft “mhm’s” spurred you on, the delicious friction pulling the two of you deeper.

Abby didn’t know what shifted in her—it might have been when you slid to your knees with a slow, deliberate grace, your nails dragging down her thighs. Her body moved instinctively, thighs spreading wide as if something had taken over her.

Or maybe it was when you pressed your cheek near where you needed her the most. Her hand came to caress your head, finding it so endearing how eager you had been all night, your fingers lingering for just a second longer, lips finding solace in her neck as you murmured how bad you needed her. She should have known you were going to beg eventually.

“Abby, please.”

You didn’t even need to elaborate, eyes were locked on the belt still fastened at her waist, the buckle catching the light and taunting you. Her own gaze, glossy and heavy with want, flickered down to meet yours.

Fuck. How could she possibly say no?

She can get rough if you would like, but she prefers to cuddlefuck than to fuck you upside down and sideways.

This goes back to the pronebone position, something you didn’t even know had a name until you tried explaining it to Abby in a very clumsy, very horny way. After that, Abby does it at least once when you guys have sex.

She’ll have your face down, your elbows digging into the bed as she fucked your leaking cunt with two thick fingers. Abby always took her time, kissing up the curve of your ass, her lips soft and warm against your heated skin. When she finally slipped her fingers out, you’d whimper in protest, only for her strong hands to press you further into the bed, spreading you open as her groan mingled with yours. The blanket so warm underneath you, mixing with the weight of her body and hands on you, have you in such a blissful haze.

“Yeah?” Abby asked, her voice low and breathless. You could barely process what she was saying, too lost in the feeling, but you nodded eagerly into the pillow, pushing your ass higher in response.

Chuckling, she sat perched on the backs of your thighs, holding you in place as she made your body tremble with anticipation. Sliding up and down with the tip of her black 6 1/2-inch faux cock it only makes you wiggle around impatiently. With a teasing pinch to your thigh to remind you to relax she finally shifts, pushing its length into you so slow you nearly grab it to put it in yourself. The stretch had your whimpers climbing into desperate, high-pitched cries muffled by the pillows. The pillows do what you need them to do because if you remove them, people will think someone is dying in there. Well, kind of, don't the french say orgasm means "tiny death"? Yeah that was happening.

Prefers if you orgasm first. She claims her own release isn't as satisfying when you don't.

“I dunno, Abby.”

The words escaped in a soft gasp as you abruptly sat up. Abby’s lips popped off your mound, glossy and parted, her wide eyes locking on yours in utter confusion. “I can’t…”

Her brows furrowed, her head tilting slightly as if to ask why in the world you’d stop her now. “Can’t what?” she asked, inching closer like she didn’t plan on letting you go anywhere.

“Cum,” you admitted, pushing her head away gently, though you both knew she wouldn’t take kindly to it.

Sure enough, she shook your hand off and gave you a look that could only be described as determined.

“Stop. Lay your ass down."

Before you could protest, she scoots you closer, which causes you to fall back into the mattress, her lips finding the inside of your thighs, skin slightly tacky from her spit and your slickness.

“No, like actually,” you said again, sitting up despite her best efforts to keep you in place, your legs starting to close instinctively.

Abby pouts, and you can’t help but mimic her expression because this poor girl has been following you around like a lovesick puppy ever since you got home from work, clearly bored and horny, while you were too stressed and tired to even think about anything else. She was all smooth with it, too, claiming she was going to “put you to bed,” but your head was still spinning with thoughts of annoying coworkers and unfinished tasks. You were too far in your own head to focus on the woman between your legs who was clearly trying to help.

Her warm hands found your shoulders, pressing with that unique weight only she carried, her thumbs kneading gently. The gesture softened you immediately.

“We can totally stop, it's just..." Her lips find yours in a gentle yet hungry kiss, her teeth nipping then soothing it with the wet of her tongue. You nearly moaned into her mouth, your body betraying every word you were about to say. “I have been wanting to taste you all fucking day. I know you had a shit day, but please, baby, I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight if you don’t come on my face”

You couldn’t help it; you burst into laughter, and Abby froze, staring at you ???????

“Oh, you’re serious,” you managed between fits of giggles, your eyes watering as you met her utterly unamused glare.

Two minutes of laughing later, Abby had had enough. With a firm nod, she launched herself forward, tackling you onto the bed and pinning you beneath her. Her body weight pressed you into the mattress, her lips hovering over yours, and you could see that look in her eyes that she was really going to put you to bed this time.

a/n: this sucks butt lol but i hope you all enjoy still.

[shan-yee]

𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲

𝘑𝘶𝘯-𝘏𝘰 𝘹 𝘝𝘐𝘗!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

๏𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜= 1393

๏𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜= oral, noncon, imagine that Jun-Ho wasn’t taken away by the old man, reader is a VIP and the wife of one of the guys, the reader wears a bathrobe and underwear, blackmail, the reader always keeps her promises.

๏𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢= Jun-Ho wants informations, she has them. But nothing is free in this word.

๏𝙰/𝙽= English is not my first language, please let me know if you see any mistakes ! Enjoy ✨

๏𝙰/𝙽 2 = When « fine, i’ll do it myself » hits a little to hard. And i think that i’m getting better at writing smut-

[̲̅t̲̅][̲̅a̲̅][̲̅g̲̅][̲̅l̲̅][̲̅i̲̅][̲̅s̲̅][̲̅t̲̅] : @zeizeisjy @fnl9zer @missroro

—I will tell you everything you want, but first, i want you.

Her words resonated in the young policeman's head, he glanced at the remote control she held in a firm grip in her right hand and considered his options.

He could refuse and try to run away but she would set off the alarm which will let everyone know of his presence, or he could accept and she would give him everything he wants.

—Think fast pretty boy.

Jun-Ho took a deep breath and raised his arms in submission before placing his weapon on the oak desk to his right. The young woman smiled at him with a satisfied air and crossed her arms under her chest, she slowly ran her thumb over the big red button on the remote control before slipping it into one of the pockets of her bathrobe.

—Good choice, but just to be sure I'll keep that there.

She sat at the end of her bed and, silently, beckoned him to come closer, her mischievous smile reaching her ears, taunting him. Jun-Ho approached with wary and slow steps, his dark shoes clattering on the floor, near her, he placed a single knee on the ground and stared straight into her eyes. It was a kind of rebellion, a way for him to show her that even if she had him on his knee, he was not her slave and sooner or later he would regain his freedom.

[Y/N] seemed to appreciate his defiance and with her right hand she caressed his face, almost affectionately. She ran her fingertips over his jaw, delicately tracing it down to his chin, then touched his dry, pink lips before finishing her little journey on his eyebrows.

—You’re so pretty. She whispered after a few moments of intense silence.

While she had fun tracing each feature of his face, the young man had wondered how he had found himself in this situation. He had managed to slip away from the room where some VIPs were watching the fifth game take place but had to quickly hide before being noticed by a guard, which led him to enter the young woman's room.

In other circumstances he would surely have turned around when passing her in the street, in a bar, he might even have offered her a drink, if he wasn't too busy hatching a plan to find his brother.

Finally, with the tip of her thumb, she pressed on his chin, making him part his lips and slipped her tongue between them. Jun-Ho seemed surprised but feeling the young woman's nails on his neck, urging him to react, he closed his eyes and reciprocated the kiss.

He felt her breath intertwined with his, just like their tongues, and in a seconds he got caught up in this game of sensuality and his left hand slowly went up the leg of the [H/C] haired woman, from the ankle to the thigh passing through the knee. Once he reached her thigh he planted his fingers in its fat, making his partner smirk in their kiss.

Meanwhile, her fingers gripping his neck slipped through his sweat-damp hair and she passed them through his black locks with a certain tenderness.

Jun-Ho was the first to pull away to catch his breath, a light stream of saliva connecting them before it broke. The young woman smiled at him, a spark of desire shining and flickering in her [E/C] eyes.

—You’re good at kissing, let’s see if you’re good at something else.

The young man watched the VIP's fingers undo the knot that held her [F/C] bathrobe, he stared, breathless, as the fabric slid down her shoulders then spread out on the satin sheets of the bed. His eyes slowly moved up to her stomach and little by little to her chest, he admired it rising then falling with each of her inhalations, her [S/C] skin covered with a very light trickle of sweat.

Jun-Ho slightly straightened up to be face to face with her, he gave her one last disdainful look, which secretly hid another emotion, before placing light kisses on her collarbones. Little by little they descended on her chest and his tongue left a light trail of saliva mixed with her perspiration up to her sternum.

He took a moment to get used to the salty taste that came to prick his tongue before he resumed his kisses on her breasts while his hands, placed on her thighs, slided to the edges of her panties.

He took the underwear, after she lifted her butt off the bed, down her legs and let it fall to the floor. The young woman spread her thighs and he ventured between them without a word.

Their breathing quickened in unison and he felt her burning gaze on the top of his head as well as the skin on the underside of her thighs, which he held apart to have more room, heat up under his palms.

He heard the slats creak as she leaned back, her weight supported by her arms, she looked at him intently, her lips parted and impatient. Suddenly, feeling his hot, ragged, breath against her sex, she squeezed the black satin sheets before closing her eyes, her respiration hitched with apprehension since she hadn't been satisfied by a man in months.

Jun-Ho let go of one of her thighs and came to spread her intimate lips using his thumb, he observed for a few seconds before attacking her clitoris. He kissed it first before taking it between his lips and sucking gently. His black orbs observed her, admiring her face tense with pleasure.

Her reactions gave him a certain pleasure and he felt his breathing speed up as well as his hands becoming sweaty. He wanted to make her pay for this humiliation but a part of him found her sensual and seductive, perhaps without realizing it, he was enjoying it much more than he would like to admit.

Using the tip of his tongue, he made small, quick and precise circles. It didn't take long for Jun-Ho to understand what she liked, the leg of the young woman he held in his left hand beginning to tremble under his movements.

[Y/N] fell back, which surprised the police officer between her legs who followed the movement of her body and brought her pelvis closer to the edge of the bed, while letting out a small chuckle which quickly turned into moans. The back of her head sank into the covers as she bit her lower lip, trying to suppress her noises of pleasure, and quickly the fingers of her hand stretched to get lost in her partner's black locks.

She pulled lightly on it as the muscles in her lower abdomen contracted as she felt her orgasm coming. Jun-Ho seemed to understand this and his long movements became faster while two of his fingers came to venture inside her.

It only took a few movements of scissors and tongue for the knot that had formed in her stomach to explode and a long moan to echo through the room. The woman felt her eyes roll back and her thighs suddenly lock and cramp from the pleasure.

She had had many partners in her life, without her husband knowing it of course, but rare were the times when she had felt such ecstasy, not only was he handsome but his tongue was one of the best.

Jun-Ho slowly stood up, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and retrieved his gun without taking his eyes off her. The [H/C] haired woman, after regaining her senses, stood up and gave him a confused look.

—You said you wanted me, you had me, now give me what i want.

There was a slight pregnant pause where she could observe his beautiful glistening skin under the dimly light of the room as well as a slight bulge in the chic black pants that he had stolen, finally the young rich woman started to laugh, her breathing still irregular, numb legs and wet forehead—like her inner thighs—.

—Alright pretty boy, give me your number and I will send you every proof I have.

[seresinhangmanjake]

A Trade

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: When Feyd asked for your hand, your father refused and took you away from him. Now he’ll do anything to get you back, and he’s not above kidnapping your sister to offer a trade.

Notes/Warnings: kidnapping and threats of death. I think that’s it. Feyd’s soft for reader.

Words: 4000

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

He sits quietly, his chair facing another of its matching set, and leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees. His hands clasp, fingers squeezing and releasing and squeezing and releasing in an effort to suppress the rage he hasn’t been able to let go of for weeks.

With eyes scanning over the figure sitting his opposite, Feyd’s teeth grind, wearing down the grit of his molars. It’s hard not to scrutinize. As he takes in every feature of her face, his lips and eyebrows involuntarily quirk in distaste. It’s not that her features aren’t nicely proportionate or well-placed on the structure of her face; they’re just…wrong. Familiar, but incorrect. 

“You don’t look like her,” he says. 

Her stare is just as intense as the one he knows so well. And though she may not look quite right, the aura she exudes does not stray from what he expects of someone with her blood. 

She jerks on the binds that are keeping her wrists locked behind her back and huffs when they don’t give way to her strength. “Well, we aren’t twins,” she states. 

There’s a bite there, but no soft edge to cushion the blow. She doesn’t know the proper way to deal with him. She doesn’t know how to ease the tension in his bones with her words. He supposes that is one of many things that makes the difference. It’s why he loves you and would not love a woman like her. 

Again she tugs on the ropes confining her. 

“Don’t bother,” he says.

She lets out a groan before finally surrendering. “You know, she told me all about you. About what became of the two of you. How it happened,” she says. “And I understand. I do. But do you honestly believe having your men abduct me was the best idea?” 

Feyd leans back in his chair. His arms cross over his chest. You are the only one who questions him, the only one allowed to question him, and his jaw ticks as he pulls back on the desire to slide a blade across your sister’s cheek.

“I do,” he says. 

Your sister shakes her head. “You know they’re giving her to Kenric. Father is with her on their planet in the process of signing a formal agreement.”

Feyd shoots up, hungry acid eating his insides. He’d heard news of the pending engagement, but he does not care to listen to those words strung together for a second time, especially not in a voice that so closely resembles yours. It makes him want to hurt something, damage something, but when the nearest target flinches at the sharpness of his movement, he pauses. You would want him to pause. He takes a breath and runs his hand down his face before circling to the back of the chair and gripping the edge of the seat. His knuckles whiten. 

“She is not marrying Kenric,” Feyd says. “Your House will give her back to me if I offer them you in return.”

She hums, unconvinced, and a crease forms at the center of his brow. He’s far from appreciative of how unsure she seems, considering this plan was the only one well-formed enough for execution. As the second born, she may not be as important as you are, but she’s a daughter of a Great House nonetheless, and no elite would allow the death of one of their own, certainly not their child, without some attempt at preservation first. They'll have to agree to his terms.

But if they don’t…

Feyd stares into the blank space by your sister’s head, his vision hazy, shapes blurring with each image of you that travels around his mind. Things had been so well. Content, yet passionate. Fulfilling. They’d been as close to perfect as Feyd could recognize from others’ descriptions of the feeling. 

You were a gift unto him without anyone realizing it. Your parents sent you for education, for experimentation, for practice in learning how to infiltrate other Houses so when the day comes for you to lead beside another, you would have the knowledge and skillset to manipulate any Great line from the inside out.

It wasn’t presented that way to his uncle, of course. You were introduced with the suggestion that the Baron see a curious girl, an innocent flower wanting to expose herself to foreign practices. But the act did not fool Feyd. He instantly saw the spots where the rose’s thorns had been clipped. What stood before him was a weapon briefly tamed for the sake of disguise who would grow back her barbs once planted within his walls. And he found much amusement in your deception.

It took mere weeks for you to fall with Feyd into deep affection. You were always around, always peering where you should not have been peering, listening to what did not belong to your ears, and when he got fed up with your lack of covertness, he confronted you. Confrontation which led to lessons in stealth that tucked the both of you into dark corners hidden from prying eyes. Dark corners that only shadowed your bodies if you were pressed against one another. Bodies that were so close breaths couldn’t help but intertwine. Breaths that brushed heat over faces and ceased only when lips met.

And then with one mistake, one request, you were gone. Kidnapped by your family’s guards. Taken from behind his turned back. Sand through his fingers.

“I believed her when she told me you loved her,” your sister says, snapping Feyd back to attention. Her mouth is parted, and as her eyes scan his face, they’re alight with something akin to wonder but with a few tainting specks of disgust. A reasonable reaction; one he anticipated. Her sister in bed with a Harkonnen—how horrible. “Nevertheless, it's fascinating to witness for myself.”

Feyd’s eyes narrow. His spine straightens. He squares his shoulders. “I asked for her hand first. She should be mine.”

A scoff bursts from your sister’s throat. “That is not what I have heard,” she tells him. “You did not ask; you demanded. And you were both naive,” she says. “She was not sent here to fall in love. Not to mention, your family has a reputation you should not forget.”

“She does not fear me,” he snaps. 

“She does not have to.”

“I am a Lord, an heir, as much as any other son of the Great Houses. My title makes me worthy. They had no valid reason to reject me and take her.”

“Do you think there isn’t more to it than any title put upon you?” she asks before she says, “It’s the wars your House involves yourselves in. The greed. The possessiveness. The pale hands in everyone else’s pots. The children you would produce.”

His jaw clenches. “And what would be wrong with our children?”

“What would be right with them? Everyone would fear the deplorable monsters they might grow to be with your blood coursing through their veins.”

Feyd’s heart prickles. 

He hadn’t thought much of children; he’d simply thought of you and what it would take to keep you by his side. Anything else he’d deemed the concerns of a much later time, but now, with it forced into his mind, he finds himself unexpectedly devastated. Normally he wouldn’t care about opinions, but to understand what ideas others might conjure up at the possibility of your union sickens him. The children you would create would be nothing less than flawless. Warriors. Survivors. Leaders. A pristine blending of you both. He knows it. 

Your sister’s chest caves with a heavy sigh. “Look, I do not say these things to hurt you in retaliation for dragging me here against my will. They are fact.”

In his silence, Feyd can feel her studying him from the inside out, not wasting a single passing second. Her position—the ties around her wrists that keep her bound to the chair—which would cause great concern to others, seems to fade in importance against her consistent, concentrated observing. It does not last long before he grows tired of it. 

“What?” he spits.

Pity bleeds into her irises. “She did try to convince them,” she says. “She claimed you’re different than you appear. Not as harsh. Not as impulsive as everyone believes.”

His gaze falls to his feet. “She was lying.”

“Clearly,” your sister agrees. Then her voice tips; softens. “But she was desperate. She would’ve said anything, though it wouldn’t have mattered. They refused to listen.”

Feyd’s eyelids pinch. He can picture you as desperate as he is. Begging. Begging as a Lady such as yourself would beg: with wit and strategy, utilizing every trick in the book short of falling on your knees. You’re like him. He begs as you do, but in his own way, with his own tricks.

“What do you believe will come of this? Really.”

Feyd looks up at her. “I told you, she will be mine again,” he doesn’t hesitate to say. “That is what will come of this.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” she asks. “Will you stop?”

“What do you think?”

As if he had cracked open her skull to reveal her brain, Feyd has an unobstructed view of each one of her thoughts nestling deeply into her mind. She said so herself what she and her House—what all Houses—think of him. War, greed, possessiveness. And he is but a fraction of the Harkonnen’s totality of power. What he’s done by taking her brushes the cusp of his capabilities, and his uncle would not restrain him from conquering another planet and snuffing out an elite lineage to obtain what he desires.

As your sister runs through the many repercussions of his plan’s potential failure, he decides he has wasted enough of his time on her. He can no longer stand to look at the face that lacks the features he prefers.

“Where are you going?” she says when he turns on his heel. 

“We’re done for now. You’ll be escorted to the guest quarters.”

“Not a cell?”

Feyd halts. 

“You’re her sister,” he says over his shoulder. And then he leaves her behind. 

—

“They’ll come today.”

Your sister looks up from the plate of food in front of her, her eyes landing on Feyd as he stops just in front of the dining table where she sits.

He’s reminded again how different she is from you. How when you sat in that same seat—a seat he is struggling not to scold your sister for occupying—you were the lone bright object in the room. Nothing about this soul-sucking black hole was capable of dimming you, and yet your contrast fit perfectly. You slotted into his fortress as if you were meant to one day rule over its every occupant, himself included. But Giedi Prime’s design does not blend well with your sister. She’s a royal-purple-velvet, gold-embroidered splotch in a sea of onyx black, and he wants nothing more than to remove her.

Soon. You will be back with him soon. Soon, you will be eating in that seat. You will be wearing his clothes. You will be existing in this space as you should be.

“How do you know?” your sister asks. 

Feyd blinks. “It’s been three days. Enough time to have been informed of your absence and return home to confirm it,” he says. “And she’ll know where you are.”

“You’re so sure?”

He gives a single nod. “She knows me,” he replies. “She knows taking you is not out of the realm of what I would do for her.”

---

Reader POV

You know where she is. From the moment your parents were informed of her disappearance and the three of you rushed to your home planet, not a single of your seconds was wasted on juggling alternative possibilities. How it is not blatantly obvious to everyone else is a shock, but perhaps your sister’s missing presence from the palace has turned frantic minds to mush. You’re the only one who isn’t running about, searching through closets and under beds as if a grown woman is playing a child’s game. 

You have to tell them. Recovering your sister cannot be a solo mission, despite how much easier that would be. Not to mention, to leave for Giedi Prime without notifying your parents would rightfully increase their panic, and no good would come of that.

So you speak his name.

They call him a demon. A monster. They curse and condemn him. How dare he demand one daughter and, after being denied, so quickly move on to stealing another. The implication that he’s taken your sister to replace you makes you ill, but to defend the love you share with him would further stir their tempers. 

“You’re certain?” Your mother asks through the trembling hand covering her horrified mouth. 

You meet your father’s blazing stare and try to ignore the hateful bile gathering at the corners of his lips. You nod. “I should go alone,” you tell them. 

“Absolutely not.”

“He’ll listen to me. He will not be cooperative with you.”

“That creature will listen to no one!”

“I know him. His thoughts, his tactics,” you argue. “I’m the one person who can get through to him.”

To his credit, your father takes a calming breath. It can not be denied that his emotions often guide him over logic, but he’s not a man known for idiocy. He sent you to the Harkonnens, and he’s not forgotten how well you’ve been trained to learn from your environment.

“Fine,” he eventually agrees. But he does not accommodate you beyond that. 

All efforts to ease his disgust for your lover fall on deaf ears. He won’t hear that Feyd hasn’t hurt your sister. He won’t believe that he hasn’t peeled her skin from her bones or starved her out of her perfectly tailored dresses. And though his eyes threaten you to surrender your conviction, to confirm his ideas and stoke the flame of his fury, you don’t give in.

Arriving at the doors of Giedi Prime’s fortress is done without guards flanking your sides. They stay on the ship. “He doesn't respond to intimidation strategies,” you tell your father. “It’s best not to storm his home with forces in tow and demand things of him.” Not lies, but you can’t say you’re honest for the sake of striking a deal without inflicting wounds on each other’s guards. True that it’s best to avoid an all-out battle, but it’s more true that your motivations are guided by seeing him again. 

When you do finally see him, you see no one else. The world falls apart and you cannot tear your eyes from his face. Neither can he keep his off of you. You’re yards apart, a rooms-span away, and yet you can already feel him from the anticipation of being in his arms. You’ve been living off of the memories of his touch, and now here he is, almost within reach.

Your father is shouting, but your heartbeat thumping in your ears shields you from the full power of his voice. “You dare steal my daughter!” you think he says. “Where is she!”

Feyd ignores him. He stares still. His mouth parts. And then, with determination in his steps, he walks to you. 

Before you can bask in the warmth of his looming closeness, his arm is reaching toward you, and in what seems like the blink of an eye, his palm slides across your cheek, his fingers weave with the strands of your hair, and he pulls you into a kiss.

Instantly, the long-awaited sensation threatens to kick your legs out from under you. Your bones warn of their weakening strength. Your heart briefly stops, but then beats return with a ferocity that could shame a beast in battle.

The *shing* of your father’s metal blade unsheathing is met with its sister sound from the multiple swords of Feyd’s guards. It buys you a few more seconds of holding each other, and you use those seconds to give all that you can.

Feyd knows how to kiss you. You know how to kiss each other. Though relatively tame in front of your current audience, he kisses with the promise of what his mouth would do to yours were you alone; echoes of what you shared before you were taken.

When you sense your time is about to run out, you plant your hands on Feyd’s chest, and as he cups your cheeks, you break the kiss. Your eyes find home in his. 

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper. 

He grins ever so slightly. “They can have her,” he says. His thumbs brush over your cheekbones and he rests his forehead against yours. “But I’m keeping you.”

I’m yours is on your lips, but his body is partially jerked out of your arms before you can speak. All gentleness in your lover switches off like a light. 

“Get off of my daugh–” 

Your father chokes, his nails clawing at the hand around his neck. 

“You don’t tell me not to touch her!” Feyd shouts with a squeeze, slowly pulling your father closer. Being inches shorter, your father must stand on his toes to keep Feyd’s grip as loose as possible, and as much as you find yourself enjoying the sight, you cannot allow it to continue.

“Feyd,” you start. As you caress his flexed bicep, you keep your tone velvety. “Feyd, let him go.” But he does not hear you. Or he does not listen. His fingers tighten. Your father’s face swells red. “Listen to me. I love you. No one is going to take me away from you. I won’t let that happen. You won’t let that happen. We will be married. We will be here, together, just you and me as we planned,” you tell him, “but I want you to let him go.”

A beat passes. Two beats. Three. Then Feyd expels the breath he’d been holding. His chest deflates, and one by one, his fingers unpeel from your father’s skin. 

Your father heaves. “Y-You…” he says through his attempts to recover. His hand rubs his rapidly bruising flesh. “You are promised…to Kenric. The agreement was all but–” he coughs “–but signed.”

A growl emerges, and from your left, Feyd lunges. Your father gasps. His eyes widen as he stumbles a step backward. 

“No!” You rush in front of Feyd to grab his face. Shaking your head, your thumbs stroke his cheeks. “No,” you repeat softly. 

The heat in his irises soothes as he keeps his eyes on you. His arm curls around your waist, and his gaze drops to your mouth. You want to kiss him again. You almost do, but then you remember why you’re here.

You look to the nearest Harkonnen guard, one of many you’re familiar with after your time on Giedi Prime. “Bring my sister. Please.”

He glances at his Lord, who nods in response to the silent question. Then Feyd’s attention returns to you, his eyes go to your lips, and he leans in. 

You struggle to care about anything other than his taste. After you were taken, you were lost to the devastation of believing your mouth and tongue and teeth would never have him again. And you’re lost now. Lost in the pleasure of those fears extinguishing. So lost that not even the echo of approaching footsteps is enough to cleave your bodies apart. 

“A relief to see that clothes are still on,” your sister’s voice greets. Reluctantly, you unseal your mouth from Feyd’s to look past his shoulder at your sister. There’s an unreadable expression on her face as she watches him bury his face in your neck. Acceptance, or revulsion.

Thankfully, your father seems to have missed her comment, so focused on seeing her well and unharmed. He takes an unsteady step in her direction. “Daughter–”

The Harkonnen releases your sister from his hold and she meets your father the rest of the way. “I’m fine, father.”

“That monster–”

“Didn’t do a thing.” Her eyes flick to the hand covering his throat. One brow arches as her head turns your way. “To me.”

Your father draws her into a hug, his hand going to the back of her head. “Good. Good,” he says. “Then let us take you both home.”

A chill runs throughout your limbs. Feyd’s arms cinch around your waist. He lifts his head, his vision glazed over as his eyes prod yours. “You’re not leaving,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “I’m not leaving.”

“You are leaving,” your father intrudes, his voice dropping an octave. “You are leaving this place. You are leaving that beast.”

Your sister sighs. “Father…”

“You are returning home, and you will marry Kenric.”

A muffled noise rumbles in Feyd’s throat. Like thunder on the horizon. A threat of a storm. You press your palm against his heart to feel the beats harder, faster. 

“We departed before anything was signed,” you say. 

Your father stomps his foot like a petulant child. “You made a commitment!”

Your head jerks back, and suddenly, red infects your sight. Intent on approaching your father, you untangle yourself from Feyd’s arms, but fingers latch onto your wrist, keeping you from gaining significant distance. You let him hold you back. 

“You made a commitment!” you snap.

“And I will keep it!”

Nails dig into your pulse point, and you know Feyd is straining against his urges as much as you are. “No,” you push. “You will walk free with one of your daughters, and the other will remain where she belongs!”

“You do not belong here!”

“Yes, I–”

“Father,” your sister repeats. 

He whips around. “What!”

“Let them be,” she says. 

Silence falls over the room. Feyd’s grip eases but does not disappear.

“He is selfish and stubborn and feels no guilt in how he loves her,” she continues. “I can’t say I’m interested in seeing what else he’d be willing to do to get her back should she be ripped away from him again, but I have no doubt it would be devastating. And I’m sure you would not survive twice.” 

Your father’s brows dip in the center. His fist clenches. “Do not disrespect me.”

“It's not disrespect,” she says. “I would fear for you, for our people, our home. Leave her, and I will marry Kenric.” 

You suck in a sharp breath.

“I have no attachments to any man. It causes me no harm to step into my sister’s place.”

“No.” Your father shakes his head. “I won’t allow it.”

“You will if you’re smart,” she replies. Tension radiates from your father, his body practically shaking where he stands. “And surely you aim to be a smart man. Surely you don’t intend to take unnecessary risks that could hurt everything our House is meant to protect.”

He opens his mouth, but the threat of humiliation is enough to shut him up. It has always been an area where he falters. Inadequacy and the fear of being looked down upon. It’s why you were marrying the son of Lord Kenric. Your House is not a weak one by many standards, but your father could not let go of the whispers among other Houses that they are stronger. He sought a match effective in showing your equals the value of his House and offspring. And blinded by his decision, there was no room for him to consider the consequences.

You watch in awe as he stands down, shrinking in the shadow of your sister’s wisdom. A smart man indeed. 

When your sister nears you, she reaches out to take your hand in hers. Feyd releases you as, for the moment, his nemesis has been subdued.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tell her. “I’m prepared to fight him tooth and nail.”

She lightly chuckles. “Your brute would burn down the world. This is what’s best. Safest.”

“You’re sure?”

“I'd decided on this path before you arrived,” she says.

You look for hesitation, any regret, but she’s a stone wall—sturdy in her decision—and you recognize that arguing would implant a tone of dismissiveness of her wishes. 

“Thank you,” you mouth.

Your sister squeezes your fingers. She tips her head to you before she glances at Feyd. You peek over your shoulder, but his face is blank. Whatever passes between them is indecipherable—some unspoken understanding. 

“Keep him in line,” she says. Then she steps away from you.

Your father glares the entire way out of the fortress, and you know you’ve severed your ties today. You’ve made a choice, picked a side, and neither he nor your mother will ever understand. Whether or not they’ve become an enemy you will learn in time, but at the very least, it is unlikely you will be welcomed into the home where you grew up. A sacrifice you accept. 

As the doors close, Feyd comes up behind you. His arms circle your waist. Your back meets his chest. His lips plant on your neck. “Come to bed,” he says. 

You grin.

---

A/N: thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know :)

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twelve: Under Watchful Eyes

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

P t 1 P t 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12

In-ho’s presence was a fortress around you. The second those VIPs started circling, closing in, you felt it—his body went rigid, his movements sharp, calculating. His mask still covered his face, but you could feel the weight of his every decision through the air. He was a wall between you and them, and you clung to that wall like it was the only thing that could keep you from crumbling under the pressure.

The VIPs weren’t hiding their excitement anymore. They were pushing forward, murmuring to each other with that sickening tone, their eyes hungry, searching for any crack in your armor. It made your skin crawl, the way they watched you, the way they talked about you like you were nothing more than a toy to pass around.

You couldn’t let them see how scared you were. Your legs were shaking, but you refused to show it. Instead, you pressed your hand to In-ho’s back. It wasn’t for him, really—he didn’t need reassurance. It was for you. His body was so solid, so unshakable, that it grounded you, even if just for a moment.

And then, like a shadow looming over everything, he appeared. The man in the panther mask stepped forward, his presence practically oozing arrogance. You could feel his eyes on you even before he spoke. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that, Frontman,” he said, his voice low, slick like honey but with a venomous edge. “Your job is to please us, remember? To meet our needs.”

The words hit you like a slap. The air turned colder, tighter. You wanted to shrink away, to disappear into the wall behind you, but In-ho didn’t flinch. His back remained straight, his posture strong, like he wasn’t going to let them tear you apart, not if he had anything to say about it.

The pack behind the panther-masked man started laughing—low, cruel chuckles that only made your stomach churn harder. Some of them leaned forward, eyes scanning you like you were a prize to be fought over, something they could break and take for themselves. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt like prey, but this time? It felt like they were all waiting for In-ho to slip. And if he did, you knew there was no way you could escape them.

But In-ho didn’t slip. He didn’t even budge. His voice, when it came, was like a warning. “No,” he said, his tone smooth but firm, like he’d just drawn a line in the sand that none of them could cross.

You could feel the tension rise. The panther-masked man didn’t back off. Instead, he just tilted his head, like he was sizing In-ho up, testing him. “You seem to forget your place, Frontman,” he said, stepping closer, the mockery thick in his voice. “You’re here to serve us. All of us.”

The other VIPs seemed to edge closer too, sensing the shift, their eyes dancing from In-ho to you. You could feel them closing in, their hunger more than just physical. It was like they were watching a spectacle, waiting to see what would break first: In-ho’s resolve, or yours.

In-ho’s hand never moved from his side, but you saw the tightness in his fingers. He wasn’t going to back down. You could see it in the way he stood, unmoving, the line drawn in the sand.

The panther-masked man wasn’t done, though. He stepped forward, his eyes glinting with amusement as he spoke again. “You can’t keep her safe from all of us, Frontman,” he mocked, his voice almost playful. “You know what we like.”

The laugh of his posse rang out again, sharp and ugly, but In-ho didn’t so much as twitch. He kept his posture steady, his voice calm. “Step back,” he ordered, his voice quiet but heavy with meaning. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. And somehow, they listened. Just for a moment.

The leader’s smile flickered, but only for a second. He wasn’t used to being defied, but he wasn’t stupid either. He knew better than to push In-ho too far. At least, not in this moment.

Instead of arguing, the panther-masked man turned toward the others, his voice rising just enough for the rest of the VIPs to hear. “We’ll see about this.” His tone was still mocking, but there was a chill to it, like he was putting a pin in the situation for now, waiting for the next round.

You didn’t take a breath until the crowd began to slowly pull back, still murmuring, still watching like they were waiting for the next fight to break out. In-ho didn’t relax, but his presence softened, just enough for you to feel the change. His hand brushed lightly over your wrist as he turned, silently guiding you toward the exit. His pace didn’t falter, and you followed him without question.

The second you were out of the room, In-ho’s grip on your wrist loosened, and you felt the weight of everything press down on you. You stumbled slightly, but In-ho caught you before you could fall. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to—but the moment stretched out, his hand still steady on your back as he guided you down the hall toward your quarters.

As you walked, you couldn’t shake the feeling of their eyes on you, the hunger of their stares still burning against the back of your skull. You didn’t even want to imagine what they were thinking, what they were planning.

When you finally reached your door, In-ho didn’t hesitate. He unlocked it, led you inside, and then closed the door behind him with a soft click.

For a moment, everything was still. The world outside seemed miles away, but the memories of those men—of the laughter, the jeers, the way they saw you as nothing more than a game—were still there, lingering in the air.

In-ho didn’t speak immediately. He simply removed his mask, the last barrier between him and you. The moment it came off, it felt like a weight had been lifted from the room. For the first time, you saw him fully—no cold eyes, no emotionless expression, just In-ho. The man who had just stood between you and those monsters.

For a split second, you caught a glimpse of what was hidden beneath the mask: the exhaustion in his eyes, the tension in his jaw. He didn’t need to say a word. You knew how heavy the situation had been for him too.

“You’re safe now,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than you expected. But there was relief in it, an assurance that he wasn’t going to let you go.

The words didn’t make you feel safe, not really. Not in this world. Not when you knew what was still waiting out there. But they did something else. They reminded you that, even if your father didn’t lift a finger, even if you were alone in the chaos, you had In-ho. He was here. And that, for now, was enough.

You didn’t say anything at first. You couldn’t. Everything felt too much—too raw, too new. The feeling of being watched, of being cornered, was still fresh, still eating away at you. But you could feel In-ho there, steady and unshaken, even when you couldn’t be.

And then, without thinking, you stepped closer, your hand finding his. It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t some romantic act—it was just a way to ground yourself. His grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to exhale.

But the night wasn’t over. The game was far from finished.

———————

Chapter 12! Updates might be coming slower as I’m back in school but we’ll see.. lemme know what you think! Thank you! :)

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[szariahwroteit]

Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Original Character Erotic Series

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 5

Tori allowed a day to slip by following the night of the party. Although her mind was tethered to Jude, the reason for her journey to Dubai, she needed a moment to gather her thoughts and find some clarity amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. The vibrant city stretched out around her, but she felt the need to pause, breathe, and reflect.

However, the next morning, Jude woke up with a newfound determination. There was only one day left of the year, and while he didn’t care for resolutions or using the start of the calendar year to try and implement change, he refused to go into the new year existing in such an awkward space with Tori. They were so new that Jude wouldn’t call what they were amid growing pains, but he knew it was a hurdle they had to get over together if they wanted to be in each other’s lives.

He understood how daunting his life may have seemed and how sought after he was by women, but he also needed Tori to understand that it was her he wanted.

As one of the most heavily documented footballers of the current generation with a star power that only seemed to be going from strength 

to strength, women came in droves, but having options didn't mean much when there was already someone in his line of sight. 

Slipping on his sneakers, Jude stood from his seat on the edge of his plush hotel bed, grabbing his phone and wallet before stepping out of his suite. 

Letting out a breath he'd been holding, Jude made his way towards Tori’s room, his palms clammy despite the coolness of the hotel corridor. 

She'd texted him around an hour prior letting Jude know she was awake, but that had been their first interaction since the night of the party in his teammate's hotel suite. 

She’d spent the day before ignoring every call and message he sent her, only reading them before closing out of the chat. 

Although it wasn't in Jude’s intentions to hurt her, he was man enough to acknowledge how careless he'd been and as possessive and ego-driven as it may have sounded, it wasn't until he saw Tpri with Alex that he fully realized the error of his actions. 

To even see her standing beside another man made Jude’s skin crawl and adding insult to injury Alex had an arrogance about him that Jude didn't care for at all. 

With each step towards Tori's room, Jude's heart raced. The sound of his footsteps echoed softly in the quiet corridor, mirroring the internal chaos brewing within him. He thought back to the moment he recognized his feelings for her—how genuine her laughter was, how her eyes sparkled with excitement, and how she brought a sense of warmth into his otherwise chaotic life.

Reaching her door, he paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He wanted to be honest, to lay everything out on the table, but he also didn't want to come off as desperate or overbearing. He had to strike a balance between vulnerability and strength. 

Before he could second-guess himself, he knocked gently. A few moments passed, and just as he was about to knock again, the door swung open, revealing Tori. She looked beautiful, her hair tousled messy bun and her eyes slightly puffy from sleep. There was a hint of surprise etched on her face, but it quickly faded into an unreadable expression.

“Hey,” Jude said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Can we talk?”

Tori hesitated but then stepped aside to let him in. The air was thick with unspoken words as he entered the room. She stood a few feet away, her arms crossed defensively over her chest as if shielding herself from whatever was about to transpire.

“I should have been more considerate of your feelings, I should have been more attentive and the last thing I want is for you to feel as if I’m just dragging you along for the ride.” Jude took a deep breath, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his emotions. 

“I know I messed up. But I also can't ignore the fact that I feel like you're holding back or anticipating me fucking up,” he continued. 

“I’m not waiting for you to fuck up, Jude I have no idea what I’m doing,” Tori attempted to explain. 

Jude took a step closer, his desire to bridge the gap between them almost palpable. “Then help me understand,” he urged, his voice softer now. “Because I want to be around you.”

Tori looked into Jude’s eyes, searching for answers, for reassurance, for something to break the tension that clung to the room like a thick fog. His sincerity was evident, yet doubt still clouded her thoughts. “The world is yours to do as you please with, the other night made me realize that and it's unfair of me to expect you to change anything about your world because I'm uncomfortable.”

They’d only known each other a few short weeks, but those weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions and unpredictability. Everything that had happened between them thus far has stemmed from impulse and raw attraction to one another, but eventually, they had to be real with themselves and for Tori; this was that. 

“I get that, Tori,” Jude replied, his voice steady despite internally trying to keep his frustration at bay. “But just because I can do something doesn't mean I will, I have self-control.” 

“I never said you didn't,” Tori shot back, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. 

“That’s what it feels like you're getting at.” Jude leaned in slightly, trying to gauge her reaction. “You’re implying that my lifestyle somehow dictates what I should want, or who I should be. But that's not the case, not with you. I need you to see that.” 

The charged atmosphere hung between them, heavy with expectation. Tori took a deep breath, the fight in her eyes softening momentarily as she considered his words. “I just don’t want to end up being another woman in your life, Jude. I want to matter to you—not just because I’m a different kind of distraction.” 

Jude shook his head firmly, his expression earnest. “You already do matter to me. You’re not a distraction. Being with you feels real, and that’s what terrifies me and excites me all at once. I want to make this work, but I need you to meet me halfway.” 

Tori dropped her arms, the defensiveness slowly peeling away. The vulnerability in Jude's eyes tugged at her heart. She could feel the sincerity of his desire, how he was trying to carve out a space for both of them amidst a storm of external pressures. 

“Halfway…” she murmured, the thought lingering in the air. 

“Yes,” he urged. “Let’s be honest with each other. I won’t pretend that it’s easy for either of us, especially with my world. But if you’re willing to try then I'm here.”

Tori felt a knot in her stomach loosen just a bit with Jude's words. They felt genuine, the kind of honesty that could either lead to something beautiful—or something painful. But she wanted to lay down her fears, to strip away the layers of uncertainty that had built up between them. “I want to try too,” she said finally, her voice steadying. “But I need you to understand where I’m coming from. I can’t just dive in without knowing if we’re on the same page.” 

Jude nodded, his expression softening. “Tell me what you need to know.” 

Taking a deep breath, Tori plunged into vulnerability, the words tumbling out. “I just need you to see with me. I'm not asking for constant reassurance, I just want to know that we’re exploring this together, to understand what we both want.”

Jude took a moment to process her words, his heart swelling with the weight of her honesty. “Tori, I want you,” he said firmly.

“If by chance that changes, please just—” Before Tori could complete her thought, Jude swiftly moved forward, enveloping her in his embrace. His arms wrapped securely around her, pulling her close as his lips crashed against hers, the intensity of the kiss catching her off guard. It was a fierce, passionate connection, igniting a spark that surged between them.

Tori felt herself melt into Jude, losing track of the worries that had weighed so heavily on her mind just moments before. The kiss was all-consuming, filling the room with a warmth that pushed away all thoughts of uncertainty. She could taste the determination in his kiss, the promise of sincerity that lingered in the air around them.

As they pulled apart slightly, she could feel Jude's heart beating against her chest, a rhythm that matched the unrest of emotions swirling within her. He looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense, searching her expression for any sign of hesitation. 

“I won't change my world, Tori,” he said quietly, his voice just above a whisper, “but I want to invite you into it. I need you to trust me.”

Tori nodded slowly, grappling with the flood of emotions rushing through her. Fear, exhilaration, longing—it was all entangled within her, but she found solace in Jude's presence. “I want to trust you, Jude,” she admitted, looking up at him, “I just need to know that you see me.”

He stepped back slightly but kept his hands on her arms, grounding her. “I see you,” he insisted, his voice sincere.

“Then can you kiss me again?” Jude's lips curled into a smirk, a playful glint sparking in his eyes at her request. He took a step closer again, his grip on her arms tightening just a fraction before he gently tilted her chin up. The air between them felt electric, charged with an undeniable chemistry that had been simmering since they first met.

“Are you sure?” he teased, though the sincerity in his tone was evident. He wanted to ensure that she was ready for whatever this connection could bring—because he certainly was.

With a soft breath, Tori nodded, her heart racing in anticipation. The nervousness in her stomach began to dissipate, replaced with an exhilarating rush that accompanied Jude’s every movement. He leaned closer, his breath warming her skin, and then his lips met hers once more in a slow, deliberate kiss.

It started gentle, a tentative exploration, a soft brush of lips that spoke of longing. But as the kiss deepened, it morphed into something more urgent and impassioned. Jude’s hands found their way to her waist, lifting her so he could carry her over to the bed. 

Tori couldn't help but giggle as Jude positioned himself above her, his strong hands framing her face. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin, and gently captured the delicate curve of her neck between his teeth, sending a shiver down her spine. The playful intimacy of the moment filled the air with a charged tension that made her heart race.

“All I want is to make you smile,” Jude murmured against her skin, his right hand moving from beside her head to grip her hip holding her in place. 

“I think you do a good job most of the time,” Tori smirked, reaching up to run her fingers through Jude’s coils as she looked into his eyes. 

“Most of the time?” he repeated in mock offence. 

“Most of the time,” Tori confirmed. “For example when you're at parties receiving lap dances, I'm not too hot on you,” she said, making Jude frown playfully before pushing his face back into the crease of her neck. 

“Okay, I deserve that one,” Jude admitted, his voice muffled against her skin. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the intimate space between them. “But, can I make you moan?” he asked, a playful challenge dancing in his eyes.

Tori's breath hitched, her heart racing at the sudden turn of the conversation. The boldness in his question sent heat pooling in her stomach, igniting an undeniable desire within her. She met his gaze, searching for sincerity among the playful banter, and found it. Jude wasn’t just teasing; he genuinely wanted to know.

“Depends on how you plan to do it,” she shot back, teasingly raising an eyebrow, her confidence blossoming in the aftermath of their heightened emotions.

“I want to taste you,” Jude whispered hotly into her ear. 

“Is that so?” she replied, her voice sultry, laced with intrigue as she arched an eyebrow, daring him to make his move. 

“Absolutely,” Jude affirmed, his confidence unwavering. He shifted his weight ever so slightly, his body pressing closer to hers. “Let me show you how I plan to make you moan.”

With that, he trailed his lips down the side of her neck, savouring the taste of her skin as his hand reached between them to pull apart her robe, cupping her breast. Tori gasped, every nerve in her body igniting under his caress. The sensation was rousing, the promise of what was to come sending spirals of desire coursing through her.

“Jude,” she breathed the warmth of his mouth on her skin, sending a tingle down her spine. 

“Relax,” he breathed out, his lips and tongue continuing their exploration, trailing lower, sending waves of pleasure shooting through her. His fingers danced over her soft skin, igniting a fire that made her pulse quicken.

“Just let me enjoy you,” he murmured, his breath hot against her as he settled between her legs, raising her left leg to come and rest over her shoulder so she lay completely exposed to him, the space around them fading into a blur of colour and sound, leaving only the two of them.

Tori let out a breathless moan as Jude pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her pussy, groaning as he got his first taste of her on his tongue. 

The sensation rocked through Tori like a bolt of lightning, her body instinctively responding to the warmth and pressure of his mouth. She gasped as he explored her with slow, deliberate movements, his tongue dancing over her sensitive folds, teasing her in a way that made her forget everything else around them.

Jude’s eyes flicked up to meet with hers as she felt his lips spread into a smile against her before he went to work on her.

Tori’s hand reached up to cover her mouth as a means of silencing her moans as Jude feasted on her pussy, his skin slippery against hers from a combination of his saliva and her arousal. 

The sounds that came from his ministrations were lewd, he sucked and slurped on Tori as her back arched from the bed completely intoxicated by her. 

Her senses were overwhelmed, the way Jude's mouth moved with expert preciseness sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. The air was electric with tension, the intensity of their connection radiating like a wildfire, each gasp she stifled only fueling the fire within. As her breath hitched, her fingers tightened in his hair, guiding him closer, craving more of the intoxicating sensations he created. Every flick of his tongue sent her spiralling deeper into ecstasy, and at that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection they shared, lost in a world of indulgent pleasure.

“You have such a pretty pussy,” Jude groaned, leaning back a little to make room so he could use his thumbs to spread her open, gathering saliva on the end of his tongue before allowing it to drip from his mouth onto her. 

Tori gasped softly at the improper compliment, a rush of heat flooding her cheeks and spreading lower, intensifying the throbbing ache between her thighs.

"Take it," she managed to murmur, her voice breathy and laced with desire.

As if to emphasize her point, Tori's hips tilted upward, offering herself to him more fully. The cool air kissed her damp folds, a stark contrast to the burning heat of Jude's gaze as he took in the sight of her splayed out before him.

"Please," she whimpered, the word escaping her lips before she could stop it. Her fingers tightened in his hair, not quite demanding, but urging him to continue.

At that moment, Tori felt wild, uninhibited, and completely surrendered to the sensations coursing through her body as she watched Jude stand from the bed to remove his clothes before grabbing his wallet and retrieving a condom from it.

“I want you inside of me,” Tori's eyes fluttered open, meeting Jude's gaze with an intensity that stole his breath away. "Please Jude," she whispered, her voice rough with need. "I want to feel you inside me."

She reached for him, her fingers trailing down his chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You’re so beautiful," she murmured, her voice slightly deepening with desire.

Tori's hips lifted off the bed, a silent invitation, an offering of her body and soul. Her legs spread wider, a clear display of her readiness, her need for him.

"Take me," she breathed, the words both a plea and a command. "Make me yours."

In that moment, Tori was lost to everything except the fire burning within her, the aching void that only Jude could fill. She needed him with an intensity that consumed her, obliterating any remnants of doubt or hesitation.

Crawling on top of her petite and slender, yet dangerously curvaceous body Jude led with his tongue as parted her lips so she could taste herself. 

As Jude's tongue parted Tori's lips, she moaned softly, the taste of her own arousal mingling with the unique flavour of Jude. It was a heady combination, one that sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through her body.

Tori's arms wrapped around Jude's neck, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss. Her tongue danced with his, exploring every inch of his mouth with a fervour that matched the intensity of their earlier passion.

Lost in the heat of the moment, Tori arched her back, pressing her body flush against Jude's. She could feel every contour of his muscular frame, the hard planes of his chest rubbing against the soft swells of her breasts.

The friction of their bodies moving together stoked the fire within Tori, her skin tingling with anticipation. She needed more, craved the feel of Jude's hands on her body, his touch igniting a trail of sparks wherever he caressed her.

Their bodies undulated together, a sensual dance fueled by primal need. Tori's hands explored Jude's back, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, marvelling at the strength that lay beneath his skin.

Jude groaned against her lips, the sound muffled by their kiss. His hands roamed her body, skimming over the dip of her waist, and the flare of her hips, before coming to rest on the soft curves of her ass. 

With a firm squeeze, Jude lifted Tori's hips, angling them so that he could slide into her with one smooth thrust. The sensation was indescribable, a perfect reunion of flesh on flesh that left them both gasping for breath.

“Tori, you feel fucking perfect,” Jude groaned into the crease of her neck, his hand slipping from her to wrap around her thighs and pin her to the bed beneath him. 

Jude had never considered himself a man with sadistic tendencies, but where sex with Tori was concerned; she possessed an innocence he wanted to ruin and protect all at once. 

She was so submissive to pleasure, both giving and receiving and all he wanted to do was explore that—explore her. 

Tori's body arched into Jude's touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as he filled her completely. The sensation was overwhelming, bordering on painful in its intensity, yet Tori welcomed it, craving more.

"Ah!" Tori let out a throaty cry as Jude slammed deep into her, the sudden fullness stealing her breath. "God, yes! Fuck me harder, Jude!"

Tori's nails raked down Jude's back, her fingers digging into his skin as she urged him on. Her hips bucked against his, meeting each of his thrusts with equal fervour, driving them both closer to the brink of ecstasy. 

"You're so fucking tight," Jude grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "So good, baby." Tori's head fell back against the pillows, her dark hair fanning out around her like a halo.

“Get on top, I want to watch your beautiful little body while you ride me,” Jude continued, raising his head so he could look into her eyes. 

Tori hesitated, her eyes widening slightly at his request for a change in position. She wasn't used to taking the lead in the bedroom, preferring to let him guide her. 

But there was something about Jude's command, the way he looked at her with such raw desire, that made her want to please him, to give him exactly what he wanted.

Slowly, carefully, Tori manoeuvred herself into a straddling position, her knees on either side of Jude's hips. She could feel the heat of his body, the hard length of him pressing against her core, and it sent a shiver of anticipation through her.

As Tori lowered herself onto Jude's cock, she couldn't help but moan softly at the sensation of being filled, stretched, and consumed by him. Her walls clenched around him as if trying to keep him inside her, never to let him go.

Tori’s mouth fell open in a silent cry, her eyes locking with Jude’s as he raised his hips beneath her, the head of his cock kissing firmly against her cervix. 

A rush of sensations flooded Tori’s body, the fullness igniting every nerve ending as she gasped at the invasive, yet welcomed pressure. Jude’s intense gaze held hers captive, the heat of his desire reflecting back at her like flames in a hearth. 

“Fuck, you feel unbelievable,” he rasped, thrusting gently as he pushed deeper, each subtle movement sending electric jolts of pleasure cascading through her. Tori arched her back, her hard nipples brushing against his chest, intuitively wanting more of him, more of this exquisite connection.

“More,” she urged, her voice barely a whisper, heavy with longing. “Please, Jude... I need it.”

A predacious grin spread across his face, and without a moment’s hesitation, he complied. Placing a hand on the back of her neck and the other on the small of her back, pulling her body flush against his. 

With a powerful roll of his hips, Jude drove deeper, claiming her in a way that turned her breath into a string of frantic gasps. The rhythmic motion filled the space between them with an intoxicating harmony that made her pulse race. Tori’s body melted against his, surrendering to the waves of pleasure that rippled through her, echoing with each thrust.

“Jude, you're so deep,” she moaned, her voice weak with desire as the sensation overwhelmed her. It felt as if he were reaching into her very soul, each movement igniting a fire that blazed hotter with every stroke.

“Look at me,” he growled his words lacking in diction as his hand on the back of her neck came to wrap around her throat, easing her body to sit up some so he could look into her eyes as he rounded his hips into Tori, fucking her incredibly deep. 

Tori’s heart raced, the combination of his grip and his commanding gaze sending shivers of exhilaration down her spine. She loved this side of him, the way he took charge, the way his need matched her own. The space around them faded, leaving only the two of them tangled in a whirlwind of heat and desire.

“Jude…” she breathed, her voice trembling as she leaned into his touch, craving both his possession and his passion. The intensity of his stare felt almost tangible, wrapping around her and binding them in this moment of unadulterated pleasure.

“Tell me how it feels,” he urged, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins.

It took Tori a moment to gather her thoughts, to articulate the overwhelming sensations crashing through her. “It’s... so much,” she managed, her breath hitching as he ground deeper inside her, every thrust perfectly timed to lift her closer to the edge. “It’s everything, Jude. Just—just don’t stop.”

His eyes burned with a mix of ownership and satisfaction, and he revelled in her response as if her words were his own personal high. He adjusted his angle, hitting a spot that sent a wave of pleasure washing over her, causing her to arch into him. 

“Don’t ever second guess how fucking perfect you are,” Jude growled, his voice deep and resonant, filled with raw need. He intensified his pace, each thrust resonating through her as he delved deeper, pushing her closer to the brink. The heat between them crackled, an electric current that sparked at every point of contact, igniting every sense.

Tori’s breath quickened, each inhaling a desperate gasp for air as if the sheer force of their connection threatened to overwhelm her lungs. 

“Oh god, Jude… yes,” she cried, her back arching further, urging him on. It was as if his every touch had created a symphony within her—a melody of pleasure that coursed through her veins, building to a crescendo that she could almost taste.

“Feel how much I want you,” Jude painted, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice as he quickened the rhythm. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve, every contour, as though he wanted to memorize her completely.

Finally settling his hands on her hips as he bit down on his bottom lip, Jude’s brow furrowed as his gaze fixed on Tori's glossy brown eyes as she gave herself to him. 

The connection between them deepened with every thrust, a magnetic pull that transcended the physical realm. Tori felt exhilarated and vulnerable all at once, ensnared in a dance of ecstasy that made her skin tingle and her heart race. Jude’s gaze burned into her, the depth of his desire setting her aflame from within.

“You’re everything I want,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear as he quickened his rhythm, driving them both higher.

As Tori’s eyelids heavy with lust slid shut, she felt a singular tear of unadulterated pleasure roll down her cheek, a physical testament to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. Every thrust from Jude felt like a promise, each powerful movement igniting more than just her body; it deepened their bond, drawing them closer together as though they were the only two souls in existence.

“Jude,” she gasped, opening her eyes to meet him once more, searching for some kind of guidance. Her body was his, even if only for the moment. 

“Let go,” he urged, his voice a heated whisper as he captured her gaze, anchoring her in the depth of their connection. Tori felt as if he was unravelling her from the inside out, his words wrapping around her heart like a warm embrace. The trust between them intensified the experience, elevating every sensation beyond the physical.

“Just you and me,” he said, his breath heavy with need. “Nothing else matters right now.” With those words, he thrust deeper, asserting that claim within her, pushing her to places she had never dreamed of reaching.

Tori managed a nod, her voice lost in the tumult of pleasure. She surrendered completely to the moment, allowing the waves of ecstasy to wash over her. The rhythm between them grew urgent, a fierce manifestation of their shared longing, building in intensity with every tide.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Jude groaned, his hands tightening possessively around her hips as he lost himself in her. The pressure building within her was electric, every pulse of pleasure drawing her closer to that swirling vortex of release. 

“Jude, I—I can’t hold on much longer,” she warned, her words whisper-soft amidst the gasps and moans echoing through the room. 

“Good,” he encouraged with a primal growl, his eyes darkened with lust. “Let it go, Tori. I want to feel you cum on me.” 

With each powerful thrust, he pushed her closer to that edge, his rhythm relentless, a beautiful pinnacle that made everything else fade into oblivion. Tori’s body responded instinctively, tightening around him as if seeking to pull him even deeper.

“Jude!” she cried out, feeling the pleasure tighten into a coil, ready to unravel. He pressed on, relentless in his pursuit, his voice a seductive growl that wrapped around her heart. 

“Just let it happen, Tori. Feel all of me,” he coached his hands firmly gripping her hips as he tilted his hips into her, making sure she felt every last pulsing inch.

The intensity of their connection reached a fever pitch, each thrust adding fuel to the fires that roared within her. Tori could feel the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over her, a tsunami she couldn’t hope to hold back any longer. Every nerve in her body tingled with need, each pulse syncopated with Jude’s movement, forging a bond between them.

“Just like that!” she gasped, her words melting into moans, expressing the bliss that swelled within her. Every inch of her became attuned to his rhythm, and she relished the dance of their bodies—the slick sliding sensation that came with each thrust, their shared breaths mingling in the charged air.

Tori’s fingers tangled in his hair as she leaned forward, wanting to feel every part of him pressing against her. “I’m so close,” she confessed, her voice breathless and laced with desperation. The heat radiating from his body set her ablaze, igniting a fire that refused to be quenched.

“Cum for me,” he commanded, his voice raw with desire, pushing her to the brink. His hands gripped her tighter, anchoring her as he thrust deep, each movement driving her closer to the edge she was so desperately in pursuit of.

Tori's body quaked above him, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. She could barely string words together, lost in the depths of her pleasure. “Jude, I can’t… I—”

“Give it to me,” he urged, his strained as he felt his end nearing. “Please, Tori.” The desperation in his voice pushed her over the edge, that insistent tone igniting the last spark of her restraint.  

With one final thrust, Jude buried himself deep inside her, and Tori felt the world swirl around her. The coil of pleasure snapped, sending shockwaves coursing through her body as her orgasm shattered every thought, every worry, leaving only raw ecstasy in its wake. Waves of pleasure rippled through her, overwhelming her senses, and she forgot everything except the intoxicating rhythm of their bodies entwined.

“Jude!” She cried out, her voice hoarse as she let herself fall into that abyss of pleasure, riding the crest of the wave as it crashed over her. Every muscle in her body tightened, and she felt herself pulsing around him, tightening and pulsing in the throes of her release.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunted, his own body responding instinctively to the feel of her climax. With each tightening clench of her walls around him, Jude lost himself completely, the warmth of her body drawing him into a well of bliss. 

He felt his release building, the intensity of her orgasm pushing him over the edge. “I’m right there with you,” he groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps. 

Tori locked her gaze on his, their breaths mingling as they rode the waves together. The connection between them deepened with each pulse, each beat of their hearts echoing in time. 

“Jude!” she gasped, as another wave washed over her, pulling him along in its wake, and then, as if their bodies were synchronized, he delved deep into her, stilling as he poured himself into the condom he wore. 

“Fuck, Tori!” he cried out, the sensation of her wrapping around him perfectly driving him over the edge as his cock filled her completely.

As the remains of their orgasms gradually faded, Tori collapsed against Jude, panting against his chest, both of them lost in a cocoon of warmth and satisfaction. Her heart raced, still thumping with remnants of pleasure as she felt Jude’s arms wrap around her, holding her close.

After a few moments of blissful silence, Tori began to regain consciousness of her surroundings, the warm afterglow of their passion enveloping her like a cozy blanket. The city outside was bustling with life, but inside the room, time felt suspended, a private moment shared between just the two of them. Tori would have been content to lie there forever, nestled against him, but a sudden wave of apprehension washed over her. 

Jude, sensing her shift in mood, tightened his grip around her. "What are you thinking?" he asked softly, his voice low as he stroked her hair, pulling her even closer. 

“Not much,” she mumbled, nestling deeper against the warmth of his chest. The contentment surrounding them was intoxicating, even as a flicker of reality started to seep back in. 

“I was thinking about taking you shopping today,” Jude suggested, a teasing lilt in his voice, his fingers gently grazing back and forth over the small of her back. “I want to spoil you a little.”

“Spoil me?” she asked teasingly, tilting her head to look up at him.

“Yes,” he replied, a charming grin spreading across his face. “So you can get dressed up for me tonight while we bring in the New Year.”

Not only was it a chance to spoil her and in turn feed his ego, but there was also something about the act, the quality time spent that seemed rather intimate to him. 

“What would you like to see me in?” Tori asked with a smirk as she sat up, her breast round and perky as she straddled Jude’s lap. 

Jude's gaze darkened with desire as he took in the sight of her sitting on him, her body radiating confidence and allure. “Honestly? I like you in absolutely nothing, but a dress would be more fitting considering our plans for tonight,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly.

Tori felt her cheeks flush at his words, the compliment igniting a warmth within her. “What are our plans for tonight?” she asked, her breath deepening as Jude’s hands came to rest on her hips. 

“Dinner and then a New Year's Eve party at the marina,” he explained, his dark eyes locking onto hers, filled with anticipation. “And you have my word no lap dances will be taking place,” he smirked, earning a laugh and playful punch to the bicep from Tori. 

When they finally pulled themselves from the bed, Tori made her way into the bathroom to get ready as Jude went to leave her hotel room and head back to his own. 

As he pulled open the door of Tori’s room, he noticed Alex walking towards him, dressed in a suit similar to the one he wore the night of the party when he comforted Tori. 

Instead of saying anything, Jude offered Alex a knowing smirk, his body still humming for the passionate encounter he just had with Victoria. 

Making his way back to his room, Jude changed clothes and alerted his security guard of his plans to leave the hotel with Tori. 

As he dressed, Jude felt a sense of anticipation bubbling within him. The thought of taking Tori shopping, of sharing the day with her, filled him with excitement. He couldn't wait to see her in something stunning for the New Year’s Eve party, something that would make her stand out and remind everyone—especially Alex—who she belonged to.

Once he was ready, Jude stepped out of his suite and made his way down the corridor to Tori's room. He knocked, his heart racing again at the thought of seeing her. The door swung open, and Tori stood there, looking radiant despite the casual outfit she wore. A fitted black top hugged her frame, paired with high-waisted jeans that accentuated her curves perfectly.

“Tori,” Jude spoke up, his voice laced with genuine admiration. “You look incredible.”

Tori smiled shyly, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Thanks. I figured I’d keep it simple for shopping,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Simple? You look anything but,” Jude replied, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “Come here,” he instructed. 

Tori’s heart fluttered at the command in his voice, and she took a small step toward him, curiosity lighting up her eyes. Jude reached out, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. 

Tori’s breath hitched in her throat as Jude pressed a kiss against her plump lips, his hands slipping down to caress her backside as he walked her backwards into the nearest wall. 

His mouth moved against hers with a hot intensity, igniting a fire within Tori that she couldn’t ignore. She thawed into him, her body responding instinctively as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the warmth of her mouth. 

“We need to leave or I'm going to end up fucking the shit out of you in this entryway,” Jude groaned against her lips, a teasing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Tori couldn't help but laugh softly, the tension of the previous days melting away in this moment of intimacy.

“Then we should hurry,” she replied, her voice playful, yet filled with a thrill of excitement. She stepped back, breaking the embrace just enough to catch her breath and regain her composure. Looking into Jude's eyes, she felt an undeniable connection, one that made her heart race and her stomach flutter.

Jude gave her a lopsided grin, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Shopping first, party later.”

Tori grinned, her excitement bubbling to the surface as she took Jude's hand, guiding him toward the door. “Lead the way then,” she said, her voice playful.

[atangledfate]

People tended to remember him as there were not many Albino Cobras in the medical field. Funny enough most ended up soldiers, or in less then legal occupations. But he always had a love for medicine, and wanted to help others. It was what brought he and dawn together and why they worked so hard during the war to save lives. They still did it now, course back then Dawn was just a dumb kid who needed something to keep her focused. He was happy she got her nursing degree after the war was over.

" My apologies, normally couples take each others surname i suppose i assumed. Well, no matter if you have some medical training lots from the airship have minor injuries. Just speak with Head Nurse Dawn she'll show you to the room and help if you need it... "

Lanolin was walking toward the main desk with Surge as she glanced over to her. Well Surge wasn't wrong but in a situation like this she probably had no choice. Lots of folks hurt, and only a short number of people to help. She knew Dawn was good at her job, good enough to get the gruff old snakes approval.

" She probably feels like she doesn't have a choice. She's one of the only ones qualified, and look at all these injured people from the airship. Sometimes we do what we have to even if we push ourselves to the limit..."

The Mouse met up with Surge and Lanolin with a big smile having overheard the conversation to a degree. She was rather short, being barely taller then Jewel was. She had a rather cheery smile despite how bad things were, and a 23 on her outfit marking her as the 23rd clone made.

" Awww, that's so sweet Miss Surge! no worries here! our upper limit is around one hundred! though we start to get pretty confused around 60 or so... its alot of information to process and we share brain power! "

Lanolin was really shocked by that number, even if each clone had no powers. in terms of raw numbers that meant dawn could easily overwhelm an enemy if she had to. So 40 was, what? a casual jog for her? Sometimes she was amazed by people's gifts, and felt like her own Sonikinesis was rather on the weak side.

" I see, well just take care of yourself Dawn. But we are here on business, is Jewel here? No one has seen her and i'm really getting worried about her. "

Dawn checked her tablet and looked rather concerned as she looked backup to Lanolin with a meek look. She shook her head no as she didn't have a record of her in the infirmary at all.

" Sorry... she wasn't with the injured... and none of us have seen her. Maybe she went back to her office? or with all the debris from the air ship... i hope she isn't out there someplace..."

Lanolin looked over to Surge but she was already on the move. She crossed her arms looking down at the floor wondering where she could be. What could have happened? if she was hurt someplace they needed to find her... and fast.

============nearly 30 minutes earlier ==========

The ache in her skull woke her, long before anything else had. She struggled around to get herself woke up feeling a hand on her shoulder telling her to stay still. She tried to and yet, her memory rushed back to her! the Airship was going down, vector and the others were heading to the infirmary when--- she saw the airship starting to crash. It was close to the prison and she wanted to be sure no one was there or hurt. She found two people in the cell, those two brutes but even they didn't deserve to be left alone.

She had unlocked the cell when one of them grabbed her, and yanked her inside! They had taken advantage of her kidnness! those brutes! Yet as her eyes focused she could see the front of the prison had caved in, something must have hit it and--- no they didn't attack her they'd saved her from being crushed.

" Rough? Tumble? ugg... my head... "

She was looking at the two Skunks, probably plotting some plan in the back of there head. Yet they didn't have to save her, maybe because she'd tried to let them out? Or maybe they weren't all bad deep down inside.

" Did... you... save me? i--- thank you..."

However it didn't change the fact---they were pretty trapped inside the building now. the exit she came in was caved in, and the cell itself was pretty sturdy. It looked like they had tried to dig out but hadn't had much luck.

Gaia... of all the people to rescue her from certain death... she never expected it to be THEM! Maybe they saw her as a bargaining chip or, she liked to think they weren't nearly as bad as people thought. They were no good sure, but maybe... just maybe even they didn't like idea of killing someone or letting someone die.

She didn't know... but she was sure they'd be rather forward with it soon enough.

"Grimrose is my wife's last name. You can just call me Twist seeing as I don't got a last name myself, at least one I haven't gone out and searched for." Twist didn't know his birth parents, and never stuck with the last name of those who adopted him, nor did he take his wife's last name despite her best efforts, so he was just Twist, plain and simple. "I doubt it as I was clear for active duty, so I was stuck in a shelter helping out where I could, though it don't matter." It was a mute subject right now as he's seen lots of faces in his life.

"Well, I ain't no doctor, though I do have the bare basic's of medical training. Got anyone with just a few cuts or scrapes I can take them off your hands." Twist was by far from the level of a doctor or a military medic, though he knew a thing or two. Enough to deal with the small problems to let the more experienced deal with the bigger ones.

"Well, I guess she should be careful not to deal with burnout right now. I see a lot so if she's stretching herself thin she may want to dial it back before she hits her limit." Surge wasn't sure if her powers was the same as someone who had a natural ability, though if it was close to what she had then burnout wasn't fun. That said, she did notice the glare from the doctor, though only rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to do a run around the base, see if I can spot Jewel before heading up to the command center. I'm not sure why, just got a feeling it wouldn't hurt." Surge wouldn't wait for Lanolin to respond as she swiftly dashed out of the room to do a once over of the base. Not like it'll take long with someone of her speed.

[giggly-squiggily]

Okay you can disregard the last adk I sent for Gojo and Geto (my bad 😅)

Instead, what about the trio (Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara) getting back at Gojo for always tickling them and they succeeded

Can't wait to see what you do 💖🫶🏾

EEEE This is a bit older but YES! Gladys you always have the best prompts! I love the idea of the trio getting Gojo- my heart is so happy writing this sakjerajkejkrajkerjk I've gotcha covered! :D

“Okay guys- time to retract and regroup!” Yuji stood tall before his group, puffing his chest to exert powerful energy. Did he truly know exactly what he was saying? Not really- but he watched enough business dramas to get the idea. “Our last attempt to get Gojo-sensei was a bust. How are we gonna recover from it?”

“You mean your last attempt. I told you it wouldn’t work.” Megumi rolled his eyes, arms stretched as Nobara painted his fingernails. Their impromptu movie night turned into a salon day for the boys when her new nail polish set came in the mail. “You really should give up.”

“Never!” Yuji struck a pose, eyes ablaze. “Not after that last crushing defeat! I was so close! I could practically taste his laughter!”

“Gross- how do you even taste laughter?” Nobara nodded at her work, pride in her growing smile. “Come here, Itadori. It’s your turn.”

“Ooo, make me pretty!” Yuji slid over and stuck his hands out, laughing as she wrinkled her nose at the state of his cuticles. “Seriously though- I think it’s possible! If we work as a team-”

“Pass.” Megumi and Nobara spoke in sync.

“Come on, you two!” He pleaded, eyes puppy-like. “Think about it! Gooms- how many times has Gojo Sensei tickled you since taking you in all those years ago?”

“All the time. Relentlessly.”

“Right! Isn’t it time for payback?” He turned to Nobara next. “'Bara- don’t you love chaos? Don’t you ever wonder what Gojo-sensei looks like when tickled?”

“Hmm..that is tempting.” She mused, finishing up her work on Yuji’s fingers. “Screw it- I’m in!”

“Seriously?” Megumi asked while Yuji whooped.

“Yeah! I’ve made the impossible happen before.” She grinned, confidence radiating off her like waves. “I can do it again!”

“He’ll kill us.”

“Us?” 

“...Fine, I’m in.” Megumi resigned, earning a round of cheers. He hid his smile in his soda can. “So how exactly are we doing this?”

“I have a plan.” Yuji gestured them over. “But it’s pretty bold.”

~~~

Gojo wasn’t a simple man. He had a knack for catching onto mischief- especially when it came to his three students.

“Hey, Gojo?” Megumi was standing before him, cheeks red and hands shaking as they pressed further into his pockets. “Can I…get a hug?”

That didn’t mean his brain always won over his heart.

Gojo gaped, brows to his hairline and jaw dropped. He took off his glasses, cleaning them on his sleeve and putting them back on to make sure his eyes were working. “Megumi? Did-did you just ask me for a hug?”

The younger boy seemed to shrink on himself, looking an adorable combination of both frustrated and mortified. “Yes..?”

“Oh…Oh how I longed for this day.” Gojo cried crocodile tears as he wiped at his cheeks, sniffing a few times. “The day you see me as your dad! The day you let me love you like the son I’ve always wanted!”

“I never said that. If anything, you’re more of a weird uncle.” Megumi frowned harder, glaring at the obnoxiously delighted man. “Nevermind, I take it back. Keep your hug.”

“Wait, Goomy!” Gojo appeared before him, arms out and eyes twinking. “You can’t just go up to someone offering a hug and not follow through!”

“I didn’t offer-”

“Come here.” He did a little hop forward, brows bouncing as he gestured Megumi into his embrace. “Where my hug at?”

“Don’t say that- now you really sound like a weird uncle.” Megumi crossed the distance, wrapping his arms around Gojo and feeling the other man startle. “There.”

After a moment, Gojo’s arms down to embrace him, his cheek against Megumi’s crown and his squeeze a level of comfort the younger man wasn’t expecting. He felt bad for what was to come. “Sorry, Gojo.”

“I know. I forgive you.” Gojo didn’t sound mad, nor did he release his embrace. He simply held on as Nobara and Yuji charged them. “It was worth the hug though.”

Seconds later, they hit the ground hard.

~~~

“Gehehahhahahah! Yohoohu threehehehe! Cohoohhome on, spahahhare your tehahahhcher!” Gojo cried out, three sets of hands going to work to break him down. To his amusment- it seemed they picked up on his own tickle techniques. “I’ll gihihiihive yohhohohu ehahhehextra crehheehdit!”

“For what? You don’t even assign homework!” Yuji pointed out, pinning both of Gojo’s wrists above his head while his companions went to work. “Wait- don’t actually assign homework now, Gojo-sensei!”

“You blockhead! Now he’s definitely gonna give us homework!” Nobara gave him a look from her spot by his legs, one hand holding down Gojo’s kicking leg while the other skittered along the back of his knee. “Keep tickling him until he takes it back!”

“Yeah!”

“Whahahait, wahahahit-ahahahahhahah!” Gojo arched with a cackle, not bothering with resisting. Even if he wanted to, he doubt he could with Megumi poking along the back of his ribs. He just had to go for the worst spots. “I hahahhahte hohohohmewohohohork! Whohohoh the hehehehell asiiihihihsgn’s hihihihis stuhuhudent’s hhoiohohmework?”

“Way to set an example as a teacher.” Megumi tsked him, stretching his hands further to really get his lower back set. The action alone was enough to have him dying. “So shameful.”

“Dohohohn’t you stahhahart on mehehee-ehehheheheehehehhe, nhoohoho cohohome ohohohon!” Gojo weakly tugged on his arms when Yuji dared to tickle an armpit. “Fihihihihne, fhihihihihne, no hohohohmewhohohoohrk! Nohohohoo hhoohohohmewohohohork!”

“Yay!” Nobara and Yuji cheered, briefly stopping their ticklish antics to highfive overhead. “Wait- why were we talking about homework again?” Yuji suddenly asked, making all three pause.

Unfortunately for them, that was the moment Gojo chose to counter.

“No homework, but here comes your extra lessons!” He moved like lightning, gathering all three of them up in seconds before bringing them to the ground, tickling like crazy. Squeals and shrieks and swears filled the area as he rapidly clawed at ribs and bellies and necks. “This will teach you to tickle your dear ol’ teacher!”

“Aheahhaha! Soohoho yohohohou’re finahahahahlly admihihihiting your ohohohld?” Yuji cried out, shrieking when Gojo doubled his efforts. “I tahhahake it bahahahck, I tahhahke it bnahahahck!”

“Ehehehehhhehehe! Thihihis wahahsn’t eehehehven my ihihiheheheha!” Nobara cried out with a high pitched cackle, scrunching up as her neck was pinched at. “It wahhahhs Yuhuhuhuhuhji’s!”

“Ihihihit was ahhahahall hihihihim! Gehehhet Ihihihihitahahhadori!” Megumi cried, pushing at the hand against his stomach. “Stahhahahap!”

“Call me old and then demand me to stop? You three are rather cheeky!” Gojo chided with mock disappointment, unable to fight off his smile. “Tell me I’m a great teacher and I’ll do it. Come on- sing me your praises.”

“Yohohohu’re grhehahahahaht! Yoohohohu’re ghreahhahahhahhat!” The three of them chorused in various tones of mirth, making Gojo laugh with them. After getting one last good tickle, he finally relented.

“Okay- lesson’s over.” He stood back with hands on his hips, laughing at the sight of his students piling up on one another in giggles. “You three are adorable..say, why are you all wearing nail polish?” He blinked at their sparkly fingers, only just now registering the look. 

Megumi seemed to flush redder as he struggled to hide his hands. Nobara meanwhile sat up and gleefully stuck out her fingers to show off her work. “Do you love them? They’re holo!”

 “Wow, would you look at that? I wish I knew you were doing manicures; I’d have you do mine.”

“I can do yours!” Nobara offered, Yuji joining in gleefully at the idea.

“Yeah! Gojo-sensei, match with us! Nobara even did Goom’s toes!”

“Don’t tell him that- get off me!” Megumi fumed, struggling to shove his friend off who dived for his feet. Gojo cackled, clapping his hands as he took in the sight of his beloved students.

“Sounds good. Let me know when your next nail appointment opens up. I’ll gladly join in.”

~~~

Nanami blinked, brow furrowed. He didn’t know what it was about Gojo, but the longer he looked, the more he felt something was…different.

When the blonde caught his eye, he flashed his fingers, making the rainbow against his fingernails dance. “My students.”

“That’s nice.” Nanami nodded, turning back to look out at the horizon.

A brief pause. “Wanna see my toenails?”

“Keep your shoes on, Gojo.”

Thanks for reading!

[n0vazsq]

Unstoppable | GB5 x Reader

pairing . . . gabriel bortoleto x f1!academy!driver!gf!reader

summary . . . Winning the F1 Academy Championship was special on its own, but when your boyfriend wins the F2 championship its even more special

request . . . no!!

word count . . . 1.1k

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . okay but why is this so cute?? anyhow yeah one more fic then ill be on the smau grind

. . . It was a day neither of you would ever forget. Gabriel had just secured his title as the F2 champion, and you? You’d claimed the F1 Academy championship after a heart stopping battle that came down to the final race.

The gap between you and Abbi had been tiny all season, and as much as you respected her, you couldn’t deny the sheer relief of crossing that finish line first.

The paddock was chaos; team members shouting, cameras flashing, and celebratory cheers echoing everywhere. But amidst it all, there was Gabriel, standing off to the side, his grin so wide it could light up the entire circuit.

His race suit was tied around his waist, and his champagne soaked hair stuck up in every direction, but to you, he looked perfect.

"There’s my champion," he called out as soon as he spotted you. Before you could respond, he was already pulling you into a hug, lifting you off the ground as you laughed.

"I thought I was gonna lose it out there," you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest. "Abbi was so close, I swear she could’ve reached out and tapped my rear wing."

Gabriel laughed, setting you back down but keeping his hands firmly on your waist. "Close doesn’t count, meu amor. You were unstoppable."

"Unstoppable is a bit excessive," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "I was barely holding it together."

He leaned in closer, his voice soft but certain. "Doesn’t matter how you felt. You did it. And I’m so proud of you."

Your cheeks flushed at the sincerity in his tone, and you couldn’t help but smile. "Guess I had to keep up with you, huh? Can’t let the F2 champion have all the fun."

"Ah, so this is a rivalry now?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Should I be worried about you stealing my fame next season?"

"Maybe," you shot back, grinning. "Better watch your back, Bortoleto."

It was moments like this, when the world around you seemed to blur into the background, that made everything feel so right.

Racing had always been your dream, but sharing it with someone who understood every high and low? That was something else entirely.

The celebrations carried on, and for a while, you were swept up in the whirlwind of congratulations and photoshoots.

But somehow, Gabriel never strayed too far, always finding his way back to your side. It was as if he knew exactly when you needed a steady hand to ground you.

At one point, the two of you ended up sitting on the edge of the garage, your legs laid out in front of you as you watched the party unfold. Gabriel’s arm was draped around your shoulders, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your arm. You leaned into him, finally letting yourself relax after the chaos of the day.

"You know," he said after a while, his voice low and thoughtful. "I’ve dreamed about winning this championship for so long, but I never imagined it would feel this good. I think it’s because you’re here."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you tilted your head to look up at him. "Gabriel…"

He turned to meet your gaze, his brown eyes so full of warmth it made your breath skip a beat. "I mean it. Sharing this with you makes it a million times better."

You didn’t know how to respond, so you leaned up and kissed him instead. It was soft and lingering, the kind of kiss that spoke volumes without saying a word. When you pulled back, his smile was smaller, more private, but just as radiant.

"Okay, your turn," you said, trying to lighten the mood. "What’s next for the F2 champion? Are you ready to take the big jump to F1?"

He laughed, the sound echoing around the empty pitlane. "Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah? Let’s just enjoy tonight."

"Fair enough," you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, soaking in the moment together. Around you, the party raged on, but it felt like you were in your own little bubble, untouchable and perfectly at peace.

Eventually, your team principal found you, informing you that you had to go to inside the garage.

Gabriel nudged you gently. "Go on, star girl. They’re waiting for you."

"Not without you," you said, grabbing his hand and dragging him along.

Your team principal smiled, microphone in hand and a playful glint in his eye. "Ladies and gentlemen, our F1 Academy champion!" he announced, prompting a wave of cheers and applause.

The team parted as the two of you made your way to the front, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves as all eyes turned to you. But then Gabriel gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, and suddenly, everything felt better.

You took the microphone, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. "This season has been incredible, challenging, exhausting, but so, so worth it," you began.

"I want to thank my team, my family, and everyone who’s supported me along the way. And, of course, this guy right here," you added, glancing at Gabriel. "He’s been my support through all of it. I wouldn’t be standing here without him."

The team erupted into cheers, and Gabriel gave you a look that was both full of adoration and pride. He leaned in close, his voice just for you. "You’re amazing, you know that?"

"Takes one to know one," you whispered back, grinning.

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter, champagne, and endless congratulations. But no matter how many people pulled you in for hugs or photos, you always found your way back to Gabriel.

As the night quietened down, the two of you wandered away from the noise, finding a quiet spot under the stars. Sitting side by side on the grass, you looked up at the sky, the weight of the day finally settling in.

"Do you ever think about how far we’ve come?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"All the time," Gabriel replied, his voice soft. "But I think about where we’re going even more."

You turned to him, your heart swelling with affection. "And where’s that?"

“Anywhere we want,” he said simply, his eyes sparkling with determination.

In that moment, with the stars above and Gabriel beside you, everything felt possible.

The future was uncertain, as it always was in racing. But with him by your side, you knew you could face anything.

Together, you were unstoppable.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[lbulldesigns]

Proof that Jinx Ziggs has a heart

I'm currently writing the first chapter of my Jinx!Ironman AU fic ❤️❤️❤️

I don't have an estimate of when it will be finished just yet because I keep going back and rewriting and editing as I go, but as soon as I finish I'll be announcing it here on Tumblr.

In the meantime, here is a list of character that I've come up with so far:

Powder "Jinx" Ziggs -

Jinx is obviously playing Tony Stark. There are some diversions from Tony Stark's character. For one, Jinx will still have her family and is a single mother to Isha. She is somewhat estranged from her family because of her busy lifestyle.

She also has a history of struggling with psychosis and is prone to auditory hallucinations but has made leaps and bounds in handling her condition.

Another diversion is that she built up her wealth independently, unlike Tony, who came from generational wealth.

Her company is called Jinx Industries, and even though her legal name is Powder, she prefers to be called Jinx.

She also prefers to go by her birth parent's names, because she's scared that their name will be gone forever if she doesn't go by it.

Isha Connie Ziggs -

Is Jinx's biological daughter, she was conceived by accident when her mother's gynecologist messed up their schedule and impregnated Jinx instead of inserting an IUD. Jinx used the settlement from suing the clinic to invest in her company. She also doesn't know who the sperm donor is, but that information will be coming to light later on in the story.

Jinx does what she can to keep Isha out of the public eye, for her own safety and to try and give her a somewhat normal childhood.

Isha absolutely loves her mother, and bugs ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Sevika Wafiya -

Sevika was a close friend to Felicia during her pregnancy with Jinx, and became Jinx's godmother when she was born.

She has been by Jinx's side her whole life, and they act more like sisters than mother and daughter. They are constantly butting heads. However, when Jinx needs advice or needs help cleaning up a mess, Sevika is who she'll go to.

When Jinx started her business, Sevika was the one to step in and help her get it up and running.

Her role in the company now is basically as a Jack of all trades. She runs the security in Jinx Industries, steps in and fills in for Jinx when Jinx isn't available such as when she doesn't turn up to claim an award or just decides to skip an important interview, and keeps things running smoothly alongside Lux.

When Jinx went missing, she organized for Isha to be sent to her family for safekeeping and got to work making sure that some of the more greedy board members didn't take Jinx's absence as an opportunity to grab the CEO seat.

She is loyal to Jinx.

Yasuo Hiraoka (I don't know Yasuo's full name in LoL, so I came up with one myself) -

Yasuo is Isha's personal bodyguard, Jinx hired him after a kidnapping attempt when Isha was four. Jinx and Sevika didn't play around with Isha's safety and sought out a former assassin to keep the little girl safe.

Yasuo is a very patient man and has developed a mild obsession with Animal Crossing. He and Isha play together often.

He is extremely protective of Isha.

Luxanna Crownsguard -

Lux is Jinx's personal assistant, she basically plays the role of Pepper Potts but isn't a romantic interest. Her and Jinx are best friends, and she is Isha's godmother.

Lux was disowned by her family for being an Inhuman and was given a job by Jinx, she takes her duties seriously and is one of the only people who can handle Jinx.

Vi Kirraman -

Vi is married to Caitlyn, and is a former Enforcer. She quit after a near death experience on the job and realized that she actually really hated her work and wanted to do something different with her life.

She opened her own gym that mostly caters to Enforcers, soldiers, MMA fighters, and so on.

She's currently working from home, due to reasons.

Caitlyn Kirraman -

Caitlyn is the Commander of the Twin City Forces and basically plays the role of Rhodey in this AU, she was previously an Enforcer but transferred over to the Twin City Forces when it was established as a means to draw Zaun and Piltover closer together.

She works quite a bit with Jinx, they used to be at each others throats but have somehow managed to form a solid friendship over the years. Caitlyn is Jinx's only real connection to the rest of her family.

She is career-driven and a bit of a workaholic but tries to make time for her family as they are extremely important to her.

When Jinx goes missing, she jumps right into action and is determined to bring her sister-in-law home to her family.

Mylo Lanes -

Owns several businesses in fashion, locksmithing, and even a dive bar.

He is currently single but is in the process of courting Gert, a DJ who works closely with The Chemical Sisters.

Claggor Lanes -

Is a botanist, who is working on improving Zaun's air quality using plants (much like his S2E7 AU self). He works closely with Ekko.

Claggor has his own daughter, named Cleo who is four-years-old. Cleo's mother is Sona Buvelle (I read a Star Guardians fic once where her and Claggor were sweet on each other, and just had to get them together for this one <3).

Sona Buvelle -

Is a virtuoso, and Inhuman. Who is engaged to Claggor Lanes, who she shares a four-year-old daughter with. She plays in the Piltover Grand Orchestre, on the high harp and grand piano, and is well renowned for her beautiful music.

Ekko Bennett -

Is Jinx's ex-best friend and ex-lover, they were never actually official but were close enough. They had a falling out due to miscommunication, and some meddling from Ekko's birth parents who thought knew what was best for their son, despite not being very present in his life. Due to this meddling, Ekko and Jinx had a falling out resulting in Jinx moving overseas, to Bilgewater, and cutting contact with Ekko.

When Ekko found out about the meddling he cut contact with his parents, and tried to get in contact with Jinx but it was too late.

He threw himself into his work in physics, engineering, and bio-engineering. He works tirelessly to improve the environmental status of Zaun with Claggor, and spends a lot of his free time working with the community and following Jinx's work even though he doesn't approve of her weapons manufacturing.

He suspects that Isha might be his daughter, and is pissed with Jinx for keeping him away.

There's still a bit more world-building to be done, but here are a few things to keep in mind:

The AU is set in Runetrra not Earth

Yordles, Vasteyans, Chireans, and other magical beings in LoL are citizens

Magic is a thing, but it isn't commercialized

Hex-Tech is a controversial technology

Piltover and Zaun are separate states but Piltover is constantly working on trying to merge with Zaun again

And, Vander and Silco's relationship is a great big question mark to everyone, they keep calling each other brothers but live together and raise four kids together and are always touchy-feely.

Anyhoo, this is what I have so far. I tried not to give away to much here because I want to leave some mystery for the actual story.

[speaknow-sw]

THE POET AND THE ROSE

Content : pure fluff, alternative ending.

A/N : some people requested it so I typed this in like 20min just for you. Hope it’ll bring you more happiness💕💀. @rayaskoalaland , @anakinca Here’s for youuuuu.

꧁ Alternative Ending ꧂

The house stood on a quiet hill, surrounded by wildflowers swaying in the breeze. The sun bathed the valley in golden light, casting shadows of children playing outside. Laughter rang out—pure, unrestrained joy. The Skywalker home was filled with life, with love, and with the echoes of a family that had found peace.

Anakin Skywalker stood at the edge of the yard, his arms crossed over his chest, watching his children run about. His dark hair was flecked with silver now, but his eyes remained as sharp and warm as ever. He smiled softly as his daughters took turns chasing each other, wooden swords in hand.

"You're too slow, James !" the eldest, Eleanor, teased her younger brother. At ten years old, Eleanor was already a force to be reckoned with—fierce, bold, and with a mind as sharp as her father’s. Her wild curls bounced as she spun, holding her wooden sword with surprising grace.

James, just three, stomped his foot in frustration. "I’m not slow! I’m strong!" he declared, puffing out his chest in defiance.

Anakin chuckled, stepping forward to kneel before his son. "And you’ll be stronger still, my little warrior. But strength comes with patience. Watch your sisters, learn from them." He ruffled Alaric’s dark hair. "And then show them what you’ve got."

James grinned, brandishing his tiny sword with determination.

Nearby, you watched with a soft smile, a basket of freshly picked herbs on your hip. You had always known Anakin would be a wonderful father, but seeing him now—with your children surrounding him, his laughter mingling with theirs—it filled you with an indescribable warmth.

Anakin turned to you, his eyes softening. "Come join us, my rose," he said, holding out his hand.

You placed the basket down and walked toward him, letting him pull you into his arms. His embrace was still as comforting and strong as it had been all those years ago. "They’re growing up so fast," you murmured.

"They are," Anakin agreed. "But I’m not ready to let them go just yet."

"Then don’t," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Later that evening, the children gathered around the fire as Anakin carved a small wooden sword for James. Each child had their own custom sword or toy, all carved by their father’s hands.

"Tell us a story, Papa!" begged your second daughter, Roselyn, her green eyes wide with excitement.

Anakin smirked, setting down the carving. "What story would you like to hear?"

"The one about how you met Mama!"

The children gasped in delight as Anakin began to tell the tale—how he had fallen for the princess who painted in secret, how he had crossed borders and battled armies for her. He embellished parts, of course, to make it more thrilling for the little ones, but the heart of the story was true.

"And in the end," he finished, pulling you close, "I vowed to protect her with my life. And I have never broken that vow."

Your youngest daughter, Lyanna, climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Mama says you carved cribs for us when we were babies. Is that true?"

Anakin chuckled. "Of course. I carved a crib for each of you."

"And you sang to us?" asked your eldest, Eleanor.

Anakin nodded, his voice softening. "I sang to each of you, every night. And I’ll keep singing, for as long as you want to hear it."

One day, as you sat by the window, painting the wildflowers blooming outside, you heard the familiar sound of your children’s laughter. You looked out to see Anakin with all five of them, teaching Eleanor how to perfect her sword grip while Alaric clung to his leg, refusing to be left out.

"You’ll make a fine knight one day, James," Anakin told him. "But remember—strength is in the heart, not just the sword."

"And me?" Eleanor asked, grinning.

Anakin smiled proudly. "You’ll make a knight no king will dare cross. But more importantly, you’ll be kind. And that’s the strongest thing of all."

You stepped outside, watching as Anakin gathered all the children in his arms, spinning them around as they squealed with delight.

"Papa!" they cried. "Again!"

And Anakin laughed—a sound so full of life, it echoed through the hills, a melody of love, of peace, of everything he had fought so hard to protect.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the family sat together by the fire, wrapped in blankets, listening to Anakin’s stories once more. You rested your head on his shoulder, your heart full.

This was your legacy—a home filled with laughter, love, and life. Anakin’s vow had held true. He had never let anyone take you from him. And in the quiet moments, as your children drifted to sleep, he whispered promises of forever.

"I love you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair.

"And I love you," you replied.

And in that moment, you both knew—there was no greater victory than that.

The court was bustling with activity. Nobles from across the land had gathered for the spring festival—a time of celebration and peace. Musicians played lively tunes, the scent of roses filled the great hall, and children ran freely through the corridors, their laughter echoing off the stone walls.

Anakin stood near the throne, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. His gaze flickered from the crowd to his children, scattered across the room. His eldest daughters, Eleanor and Roselyn, were holding court with a group of noblewomen, their heads held high, their smiles radiant. Even at ten and nine years old, they commanded attention like queens.

"They grow more like you every day," you whispered, slipping your arm through his.

Anakin chuckled, shaking his head. "Gods help us all, then. They’ll take my rank before they’re twenty."

You laughed, squeezing his arm. "And you wouldn’t mind one bit."

His expression softened as he looked at you. "Not if it means they’re safe and happy."

Across the hall, your third daughter, Elara, was trying (and failing) to teach her five-year-old sister, Lyanna, how to curtsy. Lyanna, ever defiant, crossed her arms. "Papa never makes me curtsy!"

Anakin grinned. "She’s not wrong."

You shot him a playful glare. "You’re spoiling her."

"Of course I am," he said proudly. "It’s my duty."

The festival continued, and as dusk fell, the little family gathered in the gardens for a more intimate celebration. Eleanor, ever the responsible one, helped set up the table while Roselyn chased fireflies with Lyanna. Elara sat on the grass, weaving a crown of daisies for her little brother, Alaric, who giggled as he tried to sit still.

"Papa!" Lyanna called, running up to Anakin with a wildflower bouquet. "I picked these for you!"

Anakin knelt, accepting the flowers with a dramatic flourish. "For me? Why, I must be the luckiest man in the kingdom."

Lyanna beamed. "You are!"

He scooped her up, twirling her around as she squealed in delight. "And you, my little lioness, are the fiercest in the land."

Elara tugged on his sleeve. "Papa, can I ride with you tomorrow when you go to the village?"

Anakin knelt to her level. "You want to come with me?"

She nodded eagerly. "I want to see the world!"

Anakin smiled softly, brushing a stray curl from her face. "The world can be dangerous, my tiny rose."

"But you’ll protect me," she said confidently.

He sighed, kissing her forehead. "Always."

The next day, court was in session. Anakin sat at the head of the hall, his children by his side. Eleanor sat straight-backed beside him, her eyes sharp and observant. Roselyn twirled a strand of her hair, bored with the proceedings, while Elara whispered stories to Lyanna to keep her entertained. Alaric sat on Anakin’s lap, his small hands gripping his father’s sword hilt.

"Papa," James whispered, "why do we have to be here?"

"Because one day, you’ll need to know how to lead," Anakin said gently.

"But I don’t want to be a general," James pouted.

Anakin chuckled. "Good. That means you’ll be a wise one."

As the court proceedings droned on, Anakin’s focus remained on his family. When a nobleman dared to suggest that his daughters were unfit to learn the art of swordsmanship, Anakin’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

"My daughters will wield swords if they wish," Anakin said, his voice like steel. "They’ll wield power. They’ll be warriors. And they’ll have no need of any man to defend them."

Eleanor smirked. "I’ll be the best swordswoman in the land."

"And I’ll be better than you," Roselyn teased.

"You wish!" Eleanor shot back.

Anakin leaned back in his chair, pride swelling in his chest as he watched his daughters. They were his legacy—not titles or lands, but fierce, intelligent, unstoppable girls who would shape the future.

As night fell, Anakin made his rounds through the castle, tucking each of his children into bed. He knelt by Eleanor’s bedside, brushing her hair back.

"Papa," she murmured sleepily, "will you tell me a story?"

He smiled. "Of course. What would you like to hear?"

"Tell me about Mama."

Anakin’s heart softened. "Your mother is the bravest woman I’ve ever known. She saved me in every way a man can be saved."

Eleanor smiled, her eyes fluttering closed. "I want to be like her."

"You already are, my rose."

In the next room, Roselyn and Elara were already asleep, their arms tangled around each other. Anakin kissed each of their foreheads, murmuring words of love before moving on.

In Lyanna’s room, he found her sitting up, clutching a wooden sword.

"Papa, can you teach me a new move tomorrow?" she asked.

Anakin chuckled. "Of course. But only if you promise to sleep now."

"Promise," Lyanna whispered, settling back into bed.

Finally, he reached James’ room. The little boy was already half-asleep, clutching the wooden lion Anakin had sewn for him.

"Papa," James mumbled, "will you always be here?"

Anakin knelt beside him, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. "Always."

As he left the room, you joined him in the hallway. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

"They’ll be great leaders one day," you whispered.

"They already are," Anakin said softly. "And I’ll make sure they always know how much they’re loved."

Later, as you both sat by the fire, Anakin pulled out one of the wooden cribs he had carved.

"Are you making another one?" you teased.

He laughed. "No. But I thought it might be nice to keep them. A reminder of when they were small."

You leaned against him, your hand resting over his. "They’ll always be our babies."

"And you’ll always be my rose," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "And after all… we could make a sixth one." He grinned playfully.

The flames crackled, the warmth of the fire matching the warmth in your hearts. Outside, the stars shone brightly over the quiet castle—a symbol of the love, peace, and joy that now filled your lives.

The story of the poet and the rose had not ended in tragedy, but in love—eternal, unbreakable, and true.

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 11 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇Telemachus x fem!reader

୨୧┇note: Mama Eurymachus behind YOU 💜

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Telemachus ran his hands through his hair. Y/N’s lips on his. Her breath mixed with his own. His body pressed up against hers.

Oh gods…

It was all the prince could think about. He went over to the window, staring out at Ithaca. The sky accumulating into a mix of orange and red and the sun set over the roaring sea. Telemachus wishes a little sightseeing would fix his anxiety. He was about to continue his pacing when he heard a voice ring out from behind him.

“Telemachus.” It wasn’t so much a question but a statement. Telemachus turned around to see Athena standing in the middle of the room, her same tall stance visible.

“Athena.” He sighed in relief. The boy had believed that the goddess was done with him forever after their disagreement.

Athena’s face furrowed as she glanced at him, “You’ve done something little wolf.” Telemachus could feel his cheeks go crimson as his mind raked with an answer to reply with.

“I-I haven’t done anything..” He stammered, his fingers fidgeting with the bottom of his tunic.

The goddess felt like rolling her eyes at his attempt of disguising his guilty tone, “You’re lying.”

The prince let out a frustrated sigh, “Yes..I admit. I’m lying.”

“Now the only question is what are you keeping from me?” The goddess crossed her arms, and looked down at the boy. Telemachus debated what Athena would do with him when he came out with the truth. Possibly throw him out the window. Find a way to make his life miserable for the rest of his existence.

“I took your advice..I fought back.” Telemachus began his pacing once again as he talked.

The goddess seemed proud, “Is that so?”

He sighed, “Well..Y/n had been avoiding me and staying close to her brother ever since the other night. I was pissed off…so when she got up from the dining hall…I followed her.” Athena nodded as he talked, waiting for him to continue.

“...Then I cornered her…and pushed her against the wall.” Telemachus slowly stated.

“And?” Athena had an expecting tone.

“We..um..argued, “Telemachus suddenly said in a fast tone,

“andthenimayhavesortofkissedher.”

“I’m sorry?” Athena’s eyes widened.

“I’m not repeating that.” Telemachus muttered, almost ashamed.

“I told you to fight back, not with your lips.” Athena groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

“In my defense you got extremely unspecific when you said to push her against the wall.” Telemachus’s voice cracked as he tried to defend himself.

Athena scoffed, “I thought it was obvious that you should pull a dagger or hit her, but apparently not.”

The boy ran his hands through his hair, “What do I do.”

He sat down on his bed once again, putting his head in his hands, “I know you said you’re not any Aphrodite..but you have to help me.”

Athena once again had flashbacks of Odysseus, helplessly pining over Penelope, and begging for her help. And once again, she couldn’t refuse helping. Especially someone who was Odysses’s son.

“You may not blame me if my advice does not work. I also refuse to be your Eros.” The goddess pointed her finger at Telemachus.

“Really?” The prince’s eyes lit up, a new hopefulness igniting his spirit.

“I suppose..” She sighed, no hint of excitement in her voice, “Go with your instincts.”

He looked at her expectantly, “And?”

Athena shrugs, “That’s it.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Y/n slipped through the dimly lit corridors of the palace, her jaw clenched so tightly it ached. She hated herself for agreeing to Eurymachus’s demands, but she hated him even more for putting her in this position.

The servant quarters were quiet at this hour, the faint sound of snores drifting from behind closed doors. Y/N moved silently, her steps careful as she approached the small room where Eurymachus had said the necklace would be.

The servant, a young woman named Thalia, known for her kind smile and amazing cooking, was fast asleep, her breathing even and soft. Y/n hesitated at the door, her hand hovering over the curtain that separated the room from the hallway. What am I doing? she thought bitterly. This is beneath me. But Eurymachus’s smug face flashed in her mind, and she forced herself to push forward. Slipping into the room, she quickly spotted the necklace hanging on a nail by the bed. It was simple but elegant, its gold chain glinting faintly in the moonlight streaming through the small window.

Y/n moved swiftly, lifting the necklace from its hook and tucking it into the pouch at her waist. She turned to leave, but her foot caught on a loose board, causing it to creak loudly. Thalia stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “Who’s there?” she murmured sleepily, sitting up in bed.

Y/n froze, her heart pounding in her chest.

But Thalia’s gaze sharpened as she caught sight of Y/n. “Lady Y/N? What are you—” Her eyes flicked to the empty hook where her necklace had been, and her expression turned to one of alarm. “Wait! That’s mine! What are you doing with it?” Y/n didn’t answer. She bolted from the room, ignoring Thalia’s shouts as she darted back down the hallway. Her chest heaved with each breath, her guilt clawing at her insides.

By the time she reached the agreed meeting place—a secluded alcove near the main hall—Eurymachus was already waiting, leaning casually against the wall with his ever “pleasant” smirk.

“You’re late,” he said, his tone mocking.

“Here,” she snapped, pulling the necklace from her pouch and tossing it at him. He caught it easily, inspecting it with an approving nod.

“Perfect,” he said, slipping the necklace into his own pocket. “Thalia’s been a little… resistant to my charms. This should give her the incentive she needs.”

Y/n’s stomach churned. “You’re disgusting.”

Eurymachus shrugged. “Call it what you want. It’s effective. At least I’ll get some good pu—“

Pandora turned on her heel, her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. She didn’t look back as she stormed away, but Eurymachus’s smug laughter followed her down the corridor, a reminder of how low she had been forced to stoop.

——

Y/N sat in the shadow of a column, watching the main hall with narrowed eyes. Eurymachus had been annoyingly vague about this errand, but she knew what she was looking for, a suitor sneaking away with food under the cover of night. She hated herself for even considering helping Eurymachus, but if it kept him quiet, she had no choice.

The palace was quiet now, save for the faint sounds of distant laughter from the drunken suitors who hadn’t yet stumbled off to bed. Y/n eyes darted toward the dining table, still laden with leftover food from the evening feast. A plate of roasted meat sat untouched, along with a basket of bread and a jar of honey.

She crouched lower as footsteps echoed down the hall. A figure emerged from the shadows: Amphinomus, one of the less obnoxious suitors usually. He paused near the table, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Y/n’s breath hitched as she saw him quickly gather a loaf of bread and a slab of meat, wrapping them in a cloth before tucking them under his arm.

Gotcha, she thought, rising silently and following him at a safe distance.

Amphinomus moved with surprising speed for someone who’d spent the evening drinking. He slipped through a side door that led to the servants’ quarters, his steps quiet and deliberate. Pandora stayed close, keeping to the shadows as she trailed him. He finally stopped near the kitchens, where two servants were waiting, a young man and woman with thin, worried faces. Amphinomus handed them the bundle of food, his voice low but urgent.

“Take this,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Make it last, all right? If anyone asks, you didn’t see me.” The servants murmured their thanks, their gratitude evident in their expressions. Y/n’s chest tightened as she watched. She hadn’t expected this.

As Amphinomus turned to leave, she stepped out of the shadows. “Well, well,” she said, crossing her arms. “Isn’t this interesting?” Amphinomus froze, his face pale as he turned to face her. “Y/N,” he said cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, tilting her head. “Stealing food for the servants? That’s not very suitor like of you.” His jaw tightened. “They need it more than we do.”

“Maybe,” Y/n said, her tone cool. “But if the others find out, it won’t end well for you.”

“Are you going to tell them?” Amphinomus asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

She hesitated. For a moment, she considered lying, covering for him, but Eurymachus’s threat loomed in her mind. She had no choice. “Not me,” she said finally, her voice quiet. “But you’d better hope no one else does.”

Amphinomus studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before brushing past her and disappearing into the shadows. Y/N stood there for a long time, guilt gnawing at her as she thought about what she had just witnessed. When she finally returned to Eurymachus to report what she’d seen, she kept her tone curt and her answers short. Eurymachus, of course, was delighted.

“Well, well,” he said with a sly grin. “Amphinomus, huh? Who would’ve guessed? Well, actually everyone could’ve guessed. I’m not really shocked, he has this weird thing with greeting the world with open arms or whatever that bullshit means. But anyways, I’ll have fun with that little sliver of information.”

Y/n didn’t respond. She turned and walked away, her stomach churning as she realized just how far she’d fallen, and how much worse things might get.

——

Y/N groaned as she leaned against the stone wall of the courtyard, the weight of Eurymachus’s errand making her stomach churn. She’d avoided Telemachus for days after the kiss, unsure of what to say or even how to act. Now she had to approach him with a favor? For Eurymachus of all people? It was humiliating.

But she didn’t have a choice. Eurymachus’s smug grin and veiled threats lingered in her mind, and she knew he’d make good on them if she didn’t comply. Taking a deep breath, Y/N pushed herself off the wall and made her way toward the palace library, where she knew Telemachus would be. He’d taken to hiding there lately, away from the chaos of the suitors.

When she entered the library, she spotted him immediately. He was seated at a table near the window, a scroll spread out before him. The light from the window cast a soft glow on his face, and for a moment, she hesitated. Why does he have to look so…earnest? she thought irritably.

Clearing her throat, she approached the table. “Telemachus,” she said, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest. He looked up, his eyes widening slightly before narrowing in suspicion. “Y/N,” he said flatly, setting down the quill in his hand. “What do you want?”

She winced inwardly at his tone but pressed on. “I need a favor,” she said, leaning against the table with feigned nonchalance. Telemachus raised an eyebrow. “From me? That’s bold, considering…” His voice trailed off, and his cheeks flushed as he avoided her gaze. She felt her own cheeks heat, but she refused to acknowledge it. “Look, it’s not for me,” she said quickly. “It’s for Eurymachus.”

Telemachus blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Eurymachus?” he repeated, incredulous. “Why on earth would I do anything for him?” She shifted uncomfortably. “He… he wants you to put in a good word for him with your mother,” she said, each word feeling like it physically hurt to say.

Telemachus stared at her as if she’d just sprouted a second head. “You’re joking,” he said finally.

“I wish I were,” Y/n muttered.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he regarded her with disbelief. “Why would I ever help Eurymachus? He’s insufferable.”

“Believe me, I know,” Y/N said, her tone exasperated. “But he’s been… persistent. And I’d really appreciate it if you just—”

“No,” Telemachus interrupted, his voice firm. “Absolutely not.” Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Telemachus, please. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

He gave her a long, searching look, his expression softening slightly. “Why are you even doing this? What does he have on you?” Her heart skipped a beat at the question, but she quickly masked her panic with a scowl. “That’s none of your business,” she snapped.

Telemachus frowned but didn’t press further. “I don’t like this, Y/n,” he said quietly. “You shouldn’t have to do Eurymachus’s dirty work. If he’s forcing you—”

“He’s not forcing me,” she said quickly, cutting him off. “I can handle myself.” Telemachus’s eyes narrowed, but he sighed and shook his head. “Fine. I’ll think about it. But only because you’re asking.”

Y/n blinked, surprised by his sudden acquiescence. “You will?”

“I said I’ll think about it,” he clarified, standing and gathering his scrolls. “Don’t expect a miracle.” Y/n watched him leave, her emotions a confusing mix of relief, gratitude, and something else she didn’t want to name.

As the door closed behind him, she let out a long breath, slumping into the chair he’d vacated. This wasn’t how she’d envisioned her day going, but at least she’d made some progress.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her tangled web of alliances and obligations was only growing more complicated, and that Eurymachus wouldn’t stop until he’d completely squeezed her.

——

Y/N found Antinous lounging in the great hall, reclining on a cushioned bench with a goblet of wine in his hand. He looked perfectly at ease, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. But she knew her brother well enough to sense the sharpness lurking beneath his casual demeanor. This errand was going to be trickier than the others, and it was very last second. “Heyyy Y/n!! Can you go and convince your brother to lend me money? Please! Last minute request?” Eurymachus’s irritating voice rang in her head.

She approached cautiously, clearing her throat to get his attention. “Brother,” she began, forcing a light tone. Antinous glanced up, his lips curling into a smirk. “N/N. To what do I owe this rare display of sisterly affection?” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, sitting down beside him. “I…I need a favor.”

Antinous raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “A favor? From me? This must be serious.”

“It’s not for me,” she said quickly, twisting her fingers together. “It’s for Eurymachus.”

At the mention of Eurymachus, Antinous’s smirk disappeared. He straightened, setting his goblet aside and narrowing his eyes at her. “Eurymachus?” he repeated slowly. “Why in Hades would you be doing him any favors?” Y/n hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “He—he just needs to borrow some money. One last time. That’s all.”

Antinous stared at her, his expression darkening with suspicion. “Borrow money?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “And why would he come to you to ask me for that?”

“He said you’d be more likely to agree if it came from me,” she lied, trying to sound convincing. Antinous leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “Since when are you and Eurymachus so chummy? Last I checked, you couldn’t stand the man.” Y/n’s heart began to race. “We’re not… chummy,” she said, her voice faltering slightly. “I’m just…helping out. That’s all.”

Antinous’s eyes narrowed further, and he let out a low, humorless laugh. “Helping out? You’ve got to be shitting me.” he echoed. “Do you think I’m an idiot, ‘N/N? What’s really going on between you two?”

“Nothing!” She said quickly, her face flushing. Antinous stood abruptly, towering over her with a look of barely restrained fury. “Don’t lie to me,” he growled. “If Eurymachus is trying to worm his way into your good graces, or worse into your bed—”

“Antinous!” She snapped, standing as well and glaring up at him. “It’s not like that!” But her denial only seemed to fuel his anger. He began pacing, running a hand through his hair as he muttered under his breath. “That little snake,” he snarled. “I’ll kill him if he thinks he can take advantage of you—”

“He’s not taking advantage of me!” She interrupted, stepping in front of him to block his path. “It’s just money, Antinous. That’s it.” Antinous stopped pacing, glaring down at her with clenched fists. “If that’s true,” he said slowly, “then why do you look so guilty?”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words. She couldn’t tell him the truth, not about Eurymachus’s threats, and certainly not about the kiss with Telemachus.

Antinous shook his head, his jaw tightening. “I don’t like this, Y/n,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re hiding something. And if I find out that Eurymachus has crossed a line, I swear to the gods—”

“He hasn’t,” she said firmly, cutting him off. “Please, Antinous. Just do this one thing for me.”For a moment, Antinous simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and turned away, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But if I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll grab eurymachus and throw him so far he’ll be in Mount Olympus.” Y/N nodded, relief washing over her despite the knot of guilt tightening in her chest. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Antinous didn’t respond, his back still turned to her. As she left the hall, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just set something in motion, something she might not be able to control.

started a tag list!

@procrastination20

[thegreatdandilion]

Just a cold - Another quote by Shen Yi

Shen Yi knew the day was going to be rough as soon as he woke up. His head throbbed, his throat felt scratchy, and his body ached all over. Yesterday’s work—chasing leads in the drizzle—had done its job. He fumbled for the medicine cabinet, downed a couple of cold pills, and pulled on his coat. Despite the pounding in his head, there was no time to rest. They had cases to solve, and he couldn’t afford to fall behind.

"Just a cold," Shen Yi muttered to himself as he grabbed his bag. He took the cab instead of riding the bike.

When he arrived at the station, Li Han was already waiting with a folder of witness statements.

"Morning, Shen Yi Laoshi," she greeted him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You don’t look so good."

"Uh…Just a cold. Already took medicine," Shen Yi replied, brushing off her concern. He took the file and started organizing his materials. His movements were noticeably slower than usual. He had three suspect sketches to finish—one based on the hazy evidence they’d collected the previous night. One from Li Han and the other one from an urgent case of a nearby precinct. 

Meanwhile, Du Cheng was busy interrogating suspects and questioning witnesses. Li Han had already informed him that Shen Yi is not feeling well. So he glanced over at Shen Yi occasionally, his brow furrowing deeper each time he noticed how pale Shen Yi looked.

By mid-morning, Shen Yi’s cold had worsened. He coughed into his sleeve, his breath hitching slightly as he tried to stifle it. His hand trembled faintly as he adjusted his sketchpad. Du Cheng noticed how he paused more often to rub his temples or press a hand to his forehead.

But his hands were tied as well. He could not let Shen Yi take a leave considering the severity of the cases they had to finalize. Well, if he can’t let him leave, he has to take care of him.

As the hours dragged on, Shen Yi’s condition became harder to ignore. His sneezes echoed through the otherwise quiet office, and he shivered visibly despite the warmth of the room. His normally steady lines on the sketchpad wavered, and he had to erase and redraw more frequently than usual.

Du Cheng knew Shen Yi would let himself collapse before he took a breather. Finally, during a brief break, he approached him.

"Shen Yi," Du Cheng said, crossing his arms as he stood by the desk. "You look like you’re about to keel over. Take a few minutes off."

Shen Yi didn’t look up. "It’s fine," he said, his voice hoarse. "We need this sketch. The sooner it’s done, the sooner we can catch him."

Du Cheng sighed as his eyes narrowed. "You can barely hold the pencil steady. When was the last time you ate something?"

Shen Yi hesitated, then mumbled, "Breakfast."

"Yeah? And what did you have?" Du Cheng pressed, his tone skeptical.

Shen Yi sighed, his exhaustion making it harder to mask his frustration. "Look, I’ll eat later, okay? I have to finish this first."

Du Cheng frowned. "Fine. Just don’t blame me if you pass out."

He left immediately and asked Li Han not to give the rest of the statements Shen Yi and ordered her to try and find some additional footage to find the suspect. 

By evening, Shen Yi’s exhaustion was painfully evident. His head drooped over the desk, and he blinked furiously to keep his eyes open. The pencil in his hand slipped occasionally, and he had to grip it tighter to regain control. His breathing had grown heavier, his chest rising and falling with more effort.

Du Cheng, who had just returned from speaking with another witness, came to check on Shen Yi. The younger man’s face was ghostly pale, his lips slightly parted as he struggled to catch his breath. For a moment, Du Cheng just watched him, his jaw tightening.

"Shen Yi," Du Cheng said sharply, walking over. "Stop. That’s enough."

Shen Yi shook his head weakly, his voice barely audible. "I’m close to finishing it."

"You’re close to collapsing," Du Cheng retorted, pulling the pencil out of Shen Yi’s hand. "How do you know this is accurate when you’re too sick to think straight?"

Shen Yi tried to protest, but his words were slurred. "I can’t let another... life be taken."

Du Cheng sighed heavily. He walked out of the room and returned minutes later with a cup of tea, a packet of biscuits, and cold medicine. "Here," he said, placing them on the desk. "Take a break. Eat something."

Shen Yi stared at the items, his tired eyes widening slightly. "I don’t—"

"Just shut up and eat," Du Cheng interrupted, his tone gruff. "I don’t want to hear excuses."

Shen Yi pouted a little before grabbing on to the tea slumping on the chair, relaxed. ‘The pout is new. He must be feeling super off.’ Du Cheng thinks.

Du Cheng was right. When he looked at the sketch after the break, he noticed that he had missed some details. By 11 PM, Shen Yi finally finished the sketch. As he stood to hand it to Du Cheng, his legs wobbled, and his vision blurred. He swayed, then stumbled forward. Du Cheng reacted instantly, catching him as his knees buckled.

"Shen Yi!" Du Cheng exclaimed, his voice tinged with panic. He pressed a hand to Shen Yi’s forehead and grimaced. "You’re burning up. Damn it, I knew this would happen."

Shen Yi mumbled something incoherent, his eyes half-lidded as he struggled to stay conscious. "My legs fell asleep…s nothing..."

"It’s not nothing," Du Cheng snapped. He eased Shen Yi into a chair, then grabbed the sketch. "Stay here. I’ll handle this and get you to a doctor."

Du Cheng handed the sketch to Jiang Feng, giving firm instructions to run a match immediately. When he returned, Shen Yi was slumped over the desk, his head resting on his arms. His breathing was shallow, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.

"Come on," Du Cheng muttered, lifting Shen Yi to his feet. "We’re going."

“Home?”

“Hospital!”

Du Cheng drove Shen Yi to the nearest hospital. The doctor confirmed a high fever and prescribed rest, some meds, fluids, and assured that there’s nothing to worry about. Du Cheng thanked him curtly and helped Shen Yi back into the car.

At Shen Yi’s apartment, Du Cheng guided him inside, practically carrying him to the couch. "Sit here," Du Cheng said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Shen Yi’s body felt unnaturally light, and his head lolled to the side as Du Cheng eased him down.

Du Cheng frowned, crouching to study Shen Yi’s pale face more closely. He touched his forehead, "Still burning up," he muttered under his breath. Without wasting time, he went into the kitchen, rummaging for a clean bowl to fill with cold water and grabbing a soft cloth. Returning quickly, he knelt beside Shen Yi and began dabbing his forehead and neck gently.

Shen Yi stirred slightly, his lips parting in a faint murmur. "Stop…fussing…too cold," he whined, his voice so weak it was barely audible.

"Who’s fussing?" Du Cheng shot back, his hands never stopping. "You’re the one who decided to play the hero while running a fever."

Shen Yi’s lashes fluttered briefly, but he didn’t argue further. His head tilted slightly into the touch of the cool cloth, a barely perceptible sign of relief washing over his strained features. Du Cheng noticed this and softened his movements further, muttering, "See? Not so bad."

He fetched a blanket and tucked it around Shen Yi, making sure he was warm but not stifled. Then, he prepared a glass of water and gently tilted it against Shen Yi’s lips. "Drink," he urged. "Small sips."

Shen Yi obeyed, though his hands trembled slightly when he tried to hold the glass. Du Cheng steadied him without a word, his brow furrowing as he watched Shen Yi’s delicacy up close. "Why do you always push yourself like this?" Du Cheng muttered, almost to himself. "You’re allergic to asking for help."

That was a statement. Shen Yi gave a faint smile, his voice rasping out, "Teamwork, right?"

Du Cheng huffed, half amused and half exasperated. “Teamwork works when one of us isn’t half-dead."

Over the next couple of hours, Du Cheng stayed close, rewetting the cloth and ensuring Shen Yi stayed hydrated. He even coaxed a few spoons of porridge into him when he stirred again. Shen Yi’s fever gradually began to drop, and the tension in his features eased, though he remained deeply fatigued.

Du Cheng fetched the damp towel, gently wiping Shen Yi’s face and arms for the last time. He then adjusted the blanket around him. Shen Yi stirred slightly, his lips parting in a faint murmur.

"Du Cheng... don’t fuss," Shen Yi whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Who’s fussing?" Du Cheng muttered again, his hands never stopping. 

When Shen Yi finally drifted into a deeper sleep, his breathing was steady, Du Cheng leaned back in relief. He ran a hand through his hair and let himself fall asleep on the couch next to Shen Yi’s bed.

Du Cheng woke to Xiao Xuan’s soft meowing. The cat had climbed onto his chest, pawing at him insistently. Groaning, Du Cheng sat up and checked on Shen Yi. The fever had finally broken, and his breathing was even.

"Shen Yi," Du Cheng called softly, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking him gently. The younger man stirred, his brows knitting together before his eyes fluttered open, still glassy with exhaustion. For a moment, Shen Yi’s gaze was unfocused, and his lips parted as if to say something, but all that came out was a faint mumble.

"You awake?" Du Cheng asked, crouching to meet his eye level.

Shen Yi sat up, blinked a few times, his expression adorably dazed before rubbing his eyes from his paws palms. "You stayed? What time is it...?" he rasped, his voice scratchy from sleep.

"Morning," Du Cheng replied with a faint smirk. "Don’t push yourself. Fever’s down, but you look like a ragdoll that’s been through the wringer."

Shen Yi gave a weak huff, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "I don’t... look like a ragdoll."

Du Cheng raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Oh, no?" he teased, ruffling Shen Yi’s messy hair even messier to make a point, "Take a look in the mirror."

Shen Yi tried to bat Du Cheng’s hand away but missed, his movements sluggish. 

Du Cheng wasn’t sure why he did that. He gained his grumpy cop personality back on. "Alright, sit tight. I’ll get you food. Don’t try anything stupid while I’m gone."

As Du Cheng walked off, Shen Yi leaned back against the cushions, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

[dragon-creates]

Funnybunny Week 2025

Prompt: Merch

AU: Madness AU by @allhailthequeenuwu

AO3

Jax held back laughter as he watched Pomni throw on her oversized hoodie, the sleeves too big for her arms and the ends flopping over her wrists. He never understood why she couldn’t wait until a smaller size came in, but then again he wouldn’t be able to see how cute she looked while wearing it. 

She paused after zipping up her hoodie, raising a brow at him, “What is it?”

“Oh, nothing…shortstack,” he gave her a shit eating grin. 

“I will kick your shins!” she pouted, stomping her foot.

His laughter echoed throughout the hotel room, ruffling her hair, “I’m teasing you songbird, you look cute.”

Her cheeks flushed, “You better. Now, how about our date?”

Jax’s eyes softened, taking her hand in his, “Sounds perfect.”

.

.

.

They had stopped by a diner in the mall, Pomni’s disguise giving her that freedom to feel like herself while being with the man she loved. She loved her fans and her career as an idol, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t want to feel normal without the pressing eyes of her audience and paparazzi. 

It’s why she cherished these moments with Jax, he always made her feel like a normal girl living a typical life with her goofy boyfriend. 

After finishing their meal, they continued their trek through the mall until coming across a window of a shop - pausing when they saw what was inside. 

Pomni paled.

Jax wheezed.

It was her new figurine, doing her signature stage pose with a peace sign and a heel lift.  

“Oh my god!” Jax snickered. “You look so cute!”

“Will you keep your voice down?!” she hissed.

“Sorry, sorry,” he wiped away a tear of mirth. “It’s just-it’s an even smaller version of you!”

“Ugh, you’re the worst,” she crossed her arms, shaking her head at him.

“Oh I’m the worst, huh?” he smirked. “Wanna see me be even worse?”

Pomni furrowed her brows in confusion, until her eyes widened in mortification, “Don’t you dare!”

She tried to grab his arm, but Jax was quick enough to dodge her and run into the shop. Pomni was about to run after him, but she knew she’d be risking exposing her identity when seen next to the figurine. So she had no choice but to give Jax a death glare through the window as he purchased the figurine. 

Pomni growled as he walked back out, “Are you pleased with yourself?”

“Very much,” Jax snickered. “Come on, I think this stuff is really impressive. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come in your career. Seeing this stuff just reminds me how incredible you are, songbird.”

She was still pouting, but couldn’t help but blush at his words, “You mean it?”

“Always,” he reached his arm out and pulled her close, kissing her forehead. Pomni relaxed into his hold, letting herself smile. “Although, out of curiosity. How much do you make off this stuff?”

Pomni pulled her head away to glare at him again, “Seriously.”

“I’m genuinely curious!” He said in defense.

Pomni grumbled, “...two billion…monthly.”

“HOLY SHIT!” Jax exclaimed.

“Shut up! Shut up!” Pomni rushed, covering his mouth with her hand.

“DUDE HOW ARE YOU CALM ABOUT THIS?!” He grinned when he grabbed her hands, cackling as she tried to grab at him.

“You’re the worst,” she cried, flopping her face into his chest.”

“I know,” he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. “But you love me anyway, right?”

“...yes.”

“Heh, thought so.”

.

.

.

Gangle wandered into Jax’s room, some of her laundry had accidentally been mixed up with his so she wanted to quickly grab it while he was out. She searched through the messy pile on his bed until finally grabbing her red, fluffy cloak. She was about to turn and head out when she gasped at what she saw on his bedside stand.

It was a Pomni figurine! It was a rare item that had been sold out years ago and hadn’t been on the market since! How did Jax get a hold of one?!

Gangle picked it up carefully, running her hand over the plastic hair. She was so caught up in her excitement that she didn’t notice the tall figure entering the room behind her.

“What are you doing in my room?”

Gangle jumped, whipping round when she saw Jax - his eyes darkening. “Oh, Jax!” She squeaked. 

His fists clenched when he saw what she was holding, “Put that down.”

“W-what?” Gangle looked down at the figurine. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just got excited, I never knew you were a fan of Pomni-”

“DON’T SAY HER NAME! LET GO!” He screamed, snatching the figurine out of her hands as Gangle yelped. “DON’T TOUCH MY FUCKING STUFF!”

The ribboned woman sniffed, “I-I’m sorry. I just thought-”

“JUST GET OUT! GET OUT!” He pushed her out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Gangle whimpered, running down the hall.

In his room, Jax held onto the figurine tight. He couldn’t stop the tears streaming down his face when looking at her familiar face. There was a hole that she had left behind that he couldn’t fill.  He wanted her back. He wanted her back so bad.

He sank to the floor, pressing his forehead against the doll’s. He wanted his songbird back.

[mollywog]

What are your thoughts on Possibility of Peeta in Canon feeling guilt over a perception that he forced Katniss into the Star crossed lovers?

Oooo -Thank you for giving me an opportunity to talk about this.

One of Peeta’s main survival tactics is his ability to read people and situations…. And he’s pretty good at it (which probably was helpful to him far before the arena with a volatile mother but that’s maybe more the stuff of HCs so moving on)

With that in mind:

One of the first things Peeta says to Katniss upon her discovering him in the arena is:

"Lean down a minute first," he says. "Need to tell you something." I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle as he whispers. "Remember, we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it."

Even in his fevered state, Peeta is aware that this is an act (at least on Katniss’s side)

Later - when he’s trying to convince Katniss not to go to the feast and she claims that she isn’t, he says:

"You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long." He begins to mimic me. "I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going." He shakes his head. "Never gamble at cards. You'll lose your last coin," he says.

‘I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going.’ -> all moments he (accurately) clocked where Katniss wasn’t being 100% honest if not outright lying

The ‘I don’t know how you’ve survived this long’ part is particularly interesting to me but I digress.

So then fast forward to after the feast where Katniss risked her life to save him:

"No! Just don't, Katniss!" His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there's real anger in his voice. "Don't die for me. You won't be doing me any favors. All right?"

I'm startled by his intensity but recognize an excellent opportunity for getting food, so I try to keep up. "Maybe I did it for myself, Peeta, did you ever think of that? Maybe you aren't the only one who ... who worries about ... what it would be like if ..."

I fumble. I'm not as smooth with words as Peeta. And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don't want him to die. And it's not about the sponsors. And it's not about what will happen back home. And it's not just that I don't want to be alone. It's him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread

"If what, Katniss?" he says softly.

I wish I could pull the shutters closed, blocking out this moment from the prying eyes of Panem. Even if it means losing food. Whatever I'm feeling, it's no one's business but mine.

"That's exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of," I say evasively, although Haymitch never said anything of the kind. In fact, he's probably cursing me out right now for dropping the ball during such an emotionally charged moment. But Peeta somehow catches it.

"Then I'll just have to fill in the blanks myself," he says, and moves in to me.

In this moment Katniss inwardly acknowledges that she has real feeling beyond the act and Peeta, again, reads those feelings correctly.

This is the turning point for him.

So, then imagine his surprise on the train tracks (and all the self doubt):

"It was all for the Games," Peeta says. "How you acted."

"Not all of it," I say, tightly holding on to my flowers.

"Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" he says.

(Just picture Peeta replaying the games in his head and trying to figure out where he missed the tell.)

We often joke about Peeta being oblivious to Katniss’s feelings for him in Catching Fire, but really: He’s been burned by ‘misinterpreting’ her before and he’s trying not to make the same ‘mistake’ again.

In a way

“You love me. Real or not real?

Is a remnant of that doubt.

Anyways - back you your original question:

There wasn't a single person in Panem expecting the Gamemakers to allow for two winners prior to the rule change... 73 years of one Victor: It's unprecedented.

The star-crossed lovers strategy, under normal game circumstances,

Benefits them both. The romance makes them both fan favorites to sponsors. But, at the end of the day, there can only be one Victor. So when one were to die, public sympathy would swing sponsors towards the broken hearted other.

Relied very little on Katniss; she didn't have to opportunity to state her feelings for Peeta to the audience after the interview and in the arena, up until the rule change, she barely saw him. Had he died before the (unprecedented) rule change, there wouldn’t be much for her to do but appear sad. The star-crossed lover but is eventually just a sound bite.

No one could have predicted that both Katniss and Peeta would be crowned victors and have to maintain the strategy indefinitely.

So yes, on top of believing he mistook Katniss’s feelings for him in the arena, he then discovered they’d have to maintain the pretense of lovers for the rest of their lives… I’m sure he felt all sorts of miserable ways about that.

[thedaslut]

Short ficlet from @ar-ghilas-vir-banal 's prompt!

He would tell her.

Sitting in front of her, on her couch in her chambers, he knew he would. The sight of her before him, smiling and relaxed as he held her hand made the thought form and coalesce, taking on a solidity that only certainty could hold. The gentle smile on her face, a stark contrast from the pained look she had when he arrived, seemed to widen slightly every time her eyes met his and her vallaslin moved around her eyes as they crinkled with softness she rarely showed. In his hand lay hers, the Anchor a bright green gash on her palm as he siphoned its energy out of her and into himself where it could dissipate safely. He’d tell her about that too, he decided.

“Your hands are soft,” she murmurs. “It is nice.”

His own smile widens. He hadn’t realized he was stroking her hand with his fingers idly as he worked. “It has been a long time since I had reason to keep a soft touch,” he replies, voice low and warm. “But lately I find myself handling something precious much more often. I feel the need to be attentive and gentle with it.” A playful glint enters her eyes. “The attention is appreciated,” she grins, “but perhaps a firmer touch would be appreciated at times.”

He returns the smile, warm and genuine. “I will keep that in mind.” He will tell her, he reaffirms. Everything about who he is, all he has done. The resolve sits under his skin, like steel under velvet. The force from the Anchor stuttered as he pulled on it, a knot in a thread catching on the fabric, and her face twitches in discomfort.

“Vhenan,” he whispers, a reassurance and an inquiry in one word. 

“I’m okay,” she mutters, brows drawn together slightly. “It just aches a bit even with your help.”

“You bear such a burden, Vhenan. I would not wish it upon anyone.”

“It is not your fault,” she reassures with a smile, her fingers closing around his hand in a loose grip. 

Whatever words he had on his lips die there, and in response he carefully pulls more of the Anchor into himself once again. It aches in him too, a trickle to her river, and he lets it pool within him.

He will tell her, and should she forgive him he will give her everything he is.

~</3~

He does not tell her.

When he is still called to her room, finding her on that same couch where he had held her gently not too long ago, he feels it is retribution. A punishment for what he’s done to her, what he is still doing to her, and the universe is cruel to make her the vessel for his pain. 

She sits in her spot, legs crossed and with a blanket around her shoulders. There are no gentle eyes following him as he moves to sit beside her, no quirked smiles along with curious questions and no vallaslin drawn across her nose and around her eyes.

She still gives him her hand, as if he deserves to hold it. As if he ever deserved it.

The energy within her is thick this time, like a fog that has gone from ethereal and beautiful to haunting and oppressive. When he pulls at it, however gentle, she winches and hisses and her face turns away from him. 

“You should have called for me sooner,” he adminishes as he takes note of how the Anchor is flared and angry. He can only imagine how it burns under her skin, its force bigger than what her body can contain.

“I couldn’t handle the pain.” Her voice is raw, and still she doesn’t face him.

“I know how strong you are, and how much you can endure. But had I come sooner, the mark would not have built so much--” “I was not talking about the mark.”

He says nothing more, pulling the pain into himself until it permeates him like ink dropped in water.

~</3~

He tells her.

Everything he did. To the People. To the world. To her. He tells her, and he lowers his walls. He expects an assault, a wave of anger. He expects curses, hatred and shouting. He expects her pain, her sorrow and despair.

He does not expect it to be for him.

“Solas, “ she whispers with such frailty his own heart threatens to shatter. “I can never imagine how painful this must have been for you.”

“I did this to myself, Vhenan. I deserve none of your pity.”

This makes her eyes sharpen, her edges harden in the way he still admired, would always admire. “Then let it be forced upon you, as penance for what you did.” And more pain she forces on him. Pain borne from love, from understanding, from loyalty. It is not the pain he wished for, deserved, but he lets it in. Lets it pierce his bones, tear his flesh, rend his heart so that he might feel an inkling of what he has put her through. He needs to carry it as he leaves, so that a small part of her stays with him.

“Solas.” Her voice remains firm, even as her arm surges twitch power not meant for mortals. “Var lath vir suledin.” It is a promise, and a threat. 

The scream that tears through her as the Anchor flares, one last time, cuts through him like a knife, nowhere near as painful as it ought to be. So he kneels in front of her, where he wishes he could stay, and this time he takes all he can from her. Her pain, her power, her heart. With her warmth still on his lips, he breaks her. And by doing so, he breaks himself.

“I will never forget you,” he promises, and this one he does not intend to break for as long as he lives.

He leaves, and he does not look back.

[catboy-jupiter]

I decided to do this with three sets of my OCs, because I was amused by how different their responses would be!

Little scenes/snippets under the cut! Was very excited to write some stuff for them, especially since the last one is from a setting I haven't thought much about in a while ₍^ >ヮ<^₎

The Knights ❀༊·˚ [scene: alive and well]

"That… Lucien…" Anish falters, eyes stinging as he looks away, takes a deep breath; and finally meets Lucien's eyes again. "You shouldn't be used to it! That's horrible. Your powers… They're incredible. I've always, always been so, so grateful that you developed them to help me. Why… Why would they scorn such a thing?!" He asks, more to the universe than to really get an answer.

"Because they think it makes me weak." Lucien replies, easy and nonchalant, as if he hadn't just shared that their former classmates almost killed him, only a few months after he moved out. Anish's hand shakes as he grips his sword tighter. "You weren't there to take the brunt of it anymore, so their target switched to me. Naturally." Then, he hums as he looks at this rapier, inspecting it closely.

Anish deflates immediately. If only he'd stayed… Then, Lucien wouldn't have had to go through that. He wouldn't have had to find him completely separate from all his peers, young and dumb and prejudiced and unwilling to see the value of a healer on the battlefield instead of on the sidelines, just waiting to patch them up.

"I'm sorry." He murmurs, closing the distance between them and resting his head on his shoulder. Lucien spares him a quick glance then looks back at his rapier; back and forth, back and forth, before he sheathes it with a sigh.

"You needn't be. Father took care of it. I'm alive and well, right?"

Anish stares at the deep cut, scarred, on Lucien's cheek. Thinks to his unrecognizable dead, dead eyes that only lit up when Lucien had recognized who'd invited him to their squad that day, finally prompting Anish to connect the dots. Alive? Yes. Well? Most certainly not. But he will try his best to keep that newly-rekindled spark alive.

"Yes. And I'm so grateful for that." He finally replies, closing his eyes and tucking his head closer into Lucien's neck.

He's so deep in his mind he doesn't notice the other's shiver and blush, nor the soft smile unravelling on his face.

Gossip Trio ❀༊·˚ [scene: unimpressed]

Met with Brittany's unblinking stare, Lowell shifts in place. "What." They bark out, arms crossed.

"So you realized what was going on. Stayed. Had a nasty fight before your break-up. Had other, healthier relationships… And you're still into the guy?"

"I am not into him. Not anymore."

"Yeah sure. You only don't drool every time he comes here to pester us because you'd never give him more ammunition for his huge ego."

Lowell huffs and looks away, but their eyes catch onto soft pink clothes, perfect blond curls and an innocent-looking smile that hides the man's sharpest edges. His soft laugh reaches his ears, like twinkling bells, or the clink of chains doing their best to keep someone captive. Lowell tries not to think about how much hotter he's always looked after they'd make out. They fail.

"Not into him." Brittany scoffs, and goes back to sucking on her lollipop and scrolling through her feed, utterly unimpressed. Those two are another level of messed up she hadn't seen even on her worst exes. Or on herself.

Mecha World ❀༊·˚ [scene: carefree smile]

The boy breathes deeply, staring at their bodies, grip firm on the blast gun in case they move a muscle. His breaths are the only one heard in the room, but he still keeps a close eye. The seconds pass, and they remain still, unmoving on the grass. Finally, he slowly lowers it until it points at the ground.

His frown remains as he turns around, clicking the safety back on and going back towards their car. Its auto-drive could take him back home, but it might also complicate things. Implicate him. So he just takes his bag, puts the gun inside it, checks for anything else of his and starts walking.

To his sister, beside whom he'll finally be able to relax. They won't be able to hurt her anymore. Or him. Or anyone else. They're just cooling corpses, now.

… He'd thought she was safe. He'd thought they'd focused it on him, that her smiles reflected how much more they loved her. He'd been grateful for it. He's so dumb. He needs to do better. He should've noticed sooner that they didn't have a name for her, either. But he can't change the past, and he's changed the future. She'll be able to have a carefree smile. He'll be able to relax. They'll choose their names themselves. They aren't controlled by their parents anymore.

#37 What would your character do if they discovered their sibling/friend was abused?

I know you all have amazing creative juices in you and some amazing characters. This prompt is just for you to have fun and to help you explore your Character in a different setting. I would LOVE to hear what your Characters would do.