#The designs are good but I was kind of disappointed with the face of the mc

[fragmentedblade]

I have so many screenshots of Kalpas' face I could reconstruct his face at this point, and I'm afraid to say I'm not sure his face is scarred

[teethbomb]

I’m gonna be annoying about this game for a little bit

[glacialheart]

so, funny story

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Collateral Damage.

Spencer Reid x Wife!reader

Summary: When you accompany your husband to an interrogation, the last thing you expect is to learn that the woman who ruined your lives has gotten what you've always wanted: a baby.

Words: 3,7k.

Warnings & Tags: mentions of infertility, pregnancy loss, jail, hospital, therapy. angst WITHOUT a happy ending. cat adams is warning all by herself. again, so much angst. spoilers for s12 e22 ("red light"). english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This is incredibly sad and one of the first parts of me trying to clean up my drafts (I literally cried reading this last night, love it so much).

“We’re pregnant.”

They were the words you had always dreamed of hearing, the words you had imagined sharing with your husband countless times in the quiet moments of your life. The dream of a family. The idea of motherhood. You had fought so hard against the crushing reality of your biological struggles. Every test, every disappointment, every doctor’s visit had carved deeper into your soul. But you had always held onto hope, clinging to the belief that one day, it would happen. You and Spencer would have a family. He would be a good father, and you would be a good mother.

But now…now those words came not from your lips, not from the man you loved with all your heart, but from the mouth of the woman who had shattered your world, who ruined everything good and pulled you two apart for months. Cat Adams. It was her. Again.

You couldn’t breathe.

Your body was frozen, rooted to the spot just outside the interrogation room. You and JJ stood in the dim hallway, watching through the glass, but it felt like you were miles away, like you had been pulled into some parallel universe where nothing in your life made sense. The world had tilted. Your thoughts tangled in a whirlwind of confusion, disbelief, and a deep, aching sorrow you couldn’t yet name.

You wanted to shout. You wanted to scream. You wanted to run into that room and demand the truth from her. How could he—how could she—say something like that? You wanted to storm in there and tell Cat that she was lying, that she was trying to manipulate him, that this couldn’t possibly be real. It was a very low blow, so unfair and cowardly even for someone like her.

But you were paralyzed. Your chest ached with a heaviness that felt like it would suffocate you. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Spencer’s face as his expression slowly morphed into something you didn’t recognize. He looked…lost. His brow furrowed, his lips parted as if to say something, but the words never came. His body language screamed confusion, disbelief, and a deep, gnawing fear. He was in shock, and you couldn’t blame him. The revelation was something you knew he had been wanting for years but not in this way.

“There must be an explanation,” Jennifer whispered beside you, her voice low but urgent, trying to cut through the suffocating tension. Her hand brushed against your arm, grounding you for a moment.

An explanation. Of course, there had to be one. Your husband would never…He couldn’t…But the sharp edge of pain and guilt gnawed at the edges of your mind, insidious and cruel. This moment was supposed to be yours, only yours.

Your mind raced, desperate to calm and find a way to rationalize what you had just heard. Cat was a master manipulator, a pathological liar who thrived on twisting the truth to suit her twisted games. This had to be another one of her ploys, another cruel trick designed to break Spencer. But was more, was a lower hint for you too. You were always the collateral damage, but this time it was hurting like hell.

Suddenly the guard of the prison entered, a folder clutched in her hands, her expression grim. She approached agent Jareau, handing her the medical records as if they were a death sentence for you. And the worst part was how your friend hesitated before opening them, glancing at you for a split second, her lips pressed into a thin line. The pity can be seen even for a blind person.

You didn’t need to see the contents of the folder to know the truth, to feel it inside. Jennifer’s sharp intake of breath told you everything. She flipped through the pages quickly, her frown deepening with every word she read. Finally, she looked up, meeting your eyes with an expression that was equal parts anger and more pity.

“She’s pregnant,” JJ confirmed, her voice low and reluctant. “Three months…it makes sense.”

The words made your knees weak. You reached out, gripping the edge of the table in front of you for support, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. It felt like someone had reached into your chest and torn your heart out, leaving behind a hollow, aching void devouring each of your other organs.

Inside the interrogation room, Spencer was still frozen. His hands rested on the table, trembling slightly, as he stared at Adams with wide, disbelieving eyes. “No,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of the single word. “That’s…that’s impossible. I would never—”

He would never cheat you. He would never touch or even think of another woman. He loved you like it was his life purpose since he met you.

“But you did,” Cat interrupted, her tone calm and smug, as though she had already won. She leaned back in her chair, resting her hands on her stomach with a sense of triumph that made you want to scream. “You were so sweet that night. So trusting. But then again, I made it easy for you, didn’t I? You thought it was her. You thought Lindsay was your wife.”

Your breath caught, the implication of her words crashing over you like a tidal wave and making you want to scream. You felt JJ’s hand on your arm, grounding you, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

She continued, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. “I mean, you didn’t even question it. And you, so desperate for a family, so desperate for her, fell for it. You let her in. And when the time was right…” Cat leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms smugly. “Well, you did what needed to be done. Now, here we are. You’re finally going to be a daddy.”

Finally. Finally. Finally.

Spencer’s head whipped violently, his fists slamming onto the table with a force that seemed to shake the very air around you. His voice cracked with disbelief, raw and desperate. “No,” he said again, but this time, it was louder, like he was trying to make the world believe it too, trying to make you hear it, feel it. “You’re lying.”

The woman didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head, her eyes glittering with cruel amusement, as if savoring every painful second. “What’s the matter? Not quite the picture you had in your head when you imagined your happy little family?” Her words sliced through the silence, her mockery dripping with venom. “I mean, let’s be honest—she was never going to give you a baby, was she? Not after what happened before.”

Before.

The word reverberated in your mind, jagged and relentless. You didn’t need to hear anything else. The floodgates opened and started to bleed again.

The sterile scent of the hospital room hit you like a tidal wave, the cold, mechanical hum of machines echoing in your ears. You could still feel the weight of the doctor’s words pressing down on you, the cruel finality of them. Your body, it seemed, was incapable of carrying life. The crushing reality hit harder than you could ever have prepared for. Spencer’s face had been pale, his lips trembling as he squeezed your hand, his own sorrow mirrored in your tears.

“We’ll get through this, love,” he had whispered, his voice trembling but determined. “It’s okay. We’ll find a way. It’s okay.”

But now, as you stood there in the present, surrounded by the fallout of broken dreams, that promise felt like an empty echo in the vast, aching space between you. Nothing was okay. Absolutely nothing was ever to be okay again.

Cat had come for what you could never give him, and now she was twisting the knife, ensuring you bled with every word that left her mouth. She wanted you to drown in the aftermath, wanted you to suffer, to feel like you’d been erased. As if you hadn't suffered enough, as if you weren't yet broken and traumatized enough.

You stumbled into the hallway, your legs giving way beneath you as if the very foundation of your existence had crumbled. The walls seemed to close in, the air thick, suffocating. Tears burned your eyes, spilling unchecked as years of grief poured from a place you thought had long since healed. JJ was behind you, her movements steady but soft as she followed.

“Come here. Sit down for a second,” she urged, her voice gentle but firm, like a lifeline thrown to someone drowning. She wanted to pull you in, to cradle you, but you couldn’t even hold yourself together.

You shook your head, your breath coming in shallow gasps, each one too short, too sharp. “I—I can’t. I can’t breathe.” You pressed your hands against the cool wall, your palms slick with sweat, desperate for some grounding, for something solid to stop the world from spinning out of control.

Please, just make it stop.

She placed a firm but soothing hand on your shoulder, guiding you to a nearby bench. “Just sit for a moment. Take a deep breath. You’re not alone, okay? I’m right here.”

Her words were kind, but they only made the ache in your chest burn hotter. You dropped your head into your hands, unable to hold it in anymore. “It’s not fair. She has everything,” you choked out without even thinking. “Everything I wanted. She took it. She—” Your voice faltered, the lump in your throat making it impossible to finish the sentence.

So, why'd it cost a woman like her anything? Was she going to give a better life to a baby than you could? Had you ever been such a bad person? Was that it?

Jennifer sat down beside you, not saying a word, just letting you find the strength to speak when you were ready.

When you finally did, your voice was broken. “You know…when Spencer and I moved in together, we picked the biggest house,” you said, the words spilling out in a torrent you couldn’t stop. “Not because we needed it, or because we wanted to live some fancy, luxury life—but because we were planning for the future. We talked about kids. We talked about filling that house with the chaos of family. We even set up a room…” Your voice faltered again, the memory of that room too painful to bear. “We called it the nursery.”

JJ’s expression softened, her eyes growing distant with empathy. She’d heard Reid talk about your dreams countless times—how he’d ask her for suggestions about baby names, recommendations for things he should know about raising kids, and everything to be a good husband and father at the same time.

“We bought baby clothes,” you whispered, your voice cracking again. “I still do it sometimes when I see something cute. Tiny little onesies, hats, socks…He always said we needed to be ready. That we’d want those things when the time came. And so we kept them, in a drawer, neatly folded. Waiting.”

God, you were so tired of always waiting.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Do you know how many times I opened that drawer? How many times have I picked up those tiny clothes and imagined what it would feel like to hold our baby in them? To see Spencer cradling them, smiling the way only he can when he’s happy? Every time I see him with your kids, I want to see that for the rest of my life.”

Her hand covered yours, her grip warm and steady.

“And now Cat has that,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “She gets to have a baby. She gets to take away the one thing I’ve been holding onto, the dream that kept me going after…after the loss.”

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the weight of what you’d never spoken about, what you’d kept buried ever since you walked out of that sterile hospital room. You had never talked about that day, not really—not since it happened. Not until now. Only in therapy, where the walls were thick, where no one could see you break, could you admit the rawness of it.

“I keep thinking about our house,” you continued, your voice distant and lost in memories. “How we’d sit up late at night, dreaming about how we’d decorate the nursery. We even picked names. Spencer wanted to name a boy after a scientist—he was obsessed with that idea. And I always thought, for a girl…we’d name her after his mom.”

JJ smiled faintly, though sadness lingered in her eyes. “You two still can do it and be the best parents in the world; don’t let her ruin everything.”

Having a good mom tell you that you were going to be a good mom was as filling as it was raw.

You shook your head, tears falling without restraint. You didn’t try to stop them. “How can I face him again? How can I look at him and not feel like I failed him? Like my body failed him, failed us, over and over again?”

Her voice was unwavering, strong, and full of conviction. “You didn’t fail him. You’ve never failed him, or yourself. This isn’t your fault. Spencer loves you. You’re going to get through this, together. And Cat…Cat didn’t win, okay?”

You wanted to believe her. You needed to believe her. But the suffocating weight of everything made it hard to see the truth. The face of the woman who had torn apart everything you thought you’d have was still vivid in your mind, her words echoing like a funeral bell.

“She said I couldn’t give him what he wanted,” you murmured, your voice cracking. “What if she’s right? What if—” What if your husband stopped loving you? What if he starts to hate you for not being enough? Can he?

“No,” she cut you off, her voice sharp but compassionate. “Don’t do that. Don’t let her poison your mind like that. He chose you. Not her, not anyone else. You. And this…this nightmare? It wasn’t his choice, and it wasn’t yours. But you’re going to get through it.” She knew what she was talking about.

JJ’s arm wrapped around you, pulling you close, her warmth enveloping you as the sobs you had been holding back finally broke free. She didn’t say anything more, just held you tightly, her presence a steady anchor in the storm. The sound of your sobs, the harsh, guttural sounds of a heart breaking, filled the hallway, but in her arms, you felt a small fragment of peace.

“I don’t know how to handle this,” you whispered into her shoulder, your voice trembling.

“You don’t have to handle it all right now,” she said softly. “Just breathe. I’m here, and I understand you, okay? It’s okay.”

For a moment, you let yourself collapse into the comfort she offered, letting the peace of her presence block out the memory of Cat’s cruel face, her words slicing into your soul. But that fleeting peace was shattered as hurried footsteps echoed down the hall, and then, just as suddenly, Spencer stood there with medical papers strewn on the floor and an agitated look.

His face was pale and a little sweaty, his fists clenched as if he wanted to throw the table in front of him away, and as soon as he saw you, everything stopped; he watched you with concern, and his breath caught in his throat. “Are you okay, love? I—I came as soon as I could, I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, almost a plea, as he took a tentative step closer.

You straightened, quickly wiping at your face, trying to pull yourself together. But the moment your eyes met his, the dam broke all over again.

Your husband moved to sit beside you, his hands reaching out but stopping just short of touching you, as though he was afraid he might hurt you more. “Hear me, whatever she said in there—it’s a lie. It has to be. She’s trying to get into our heads.”

JJ left quietly, her steps fading as she walked away, leaving the two of you alone. The silence between you and Spencer was suffocating, thick with the unspoken words, the weight of everything you were both feeling. You couldn’t look at him, not yet. Not when you knew the depth of his concern, the love in his eyes that you felt you didn’t deserve. Not when you felt like everything was unraveling and you had no way of holding it all together.

The moment his gaze softened, you felt it—a crack in the walls you had been desperately trying to keep intact. But you couldn’t—couldn’t carry it anymore, couldn’t wear that mask any longer. It was like trying to keep the ocean contained in a single glass jar.

You shook your head, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. “I’m fine,” you whispered, your voice thin and fragile, like glass on the verge of shattering. But even to your own ears, the words felt hollow. They sounded like a lie, and you hated yourself for saying them. “I just need to go home. I’m so tired. I can’t…I can’t do this anymore.”

His eyes searched yours, as though hoping he could find the answers to your pain somewhere in the depths of your soul. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his face flexing as he fought to understand, to fix it, but you knew he couldn’t. No one could. Not with this.

“You don’t have to go alone,” he said, his voice gentle but insistent, the kind of voice that pulled at your heart, that made you want to reach out and hold on to him. “Let me be there for you. Please.”

You flinched inwardly, the urge to push him away overwhelming. If he touched you now, you feared you’d crumble entirely. “No,” you said, your voice cutting through the fragile silence that had fallen between you. The word hung in the air, sharp, like a weapon you didn’t want to wield. But you had to. You had to. “I just need to be by myself for a moment.”

His expression shifted, hurt flashing across his face. He blinked, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something—anything—to make it better. But what could he say? He couldn’t take away the hurt, couldn’t undo the mess that had built up over the last few months. The raw, searing weight of grief and longing, of losing something you’d never even gotten to hold, hung between you like a thick fog.

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off. “Please, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just…I need time. Please.”

He recoiled slightly, but then he nodded. Slowly. His gaze softened with an ache that matched your own, but there was also something else there—something deep and unwavering. Love. Love that hurt, love that clung to you even as you tried to push it away.

“I love you,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I love you so much. And whatever happens, whatever she said or done…it doesn’t change that. Nothing will change that. You and me—we’ll get through this.”

The words pierced you, not in the way you wanted, not in the way that would have given you comfort. Instead, they felt like a reminder of everything you had lost, everything you might never have. You look at your ring, trying to hold on to the meaning.

“I need to go,” you whispered, your hand trembling as you touched his arm, just briefly. It wasn’t a comfort; it was a goodbye. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You didn’t want to drag him down with you, even though you knew he’d follow you into hell if you asked. But you couldn’t let him. Not now.

Spencer hesitated, as if he might argue, but then he just sighed softly, nodding again, his face pale with worry. “Okay. But you know I’m here, right? If you change your mind—if you need me…” His voice trailed off, and he gave you a look of such pure concern that it almost broke you. Almost.

You nodded without meeting his eyes, wiping at your cheeks quickly before giving him a quick hug and walking away, each step a little heavier than the last. You couldn’t even look back.

The door of your car slammed shut behind you with a finality that sent a shiver down your spine. For a long moment, you sat there, the engine still off, staring straight ahead as the weight of everything settled over you like an oppressive storm cloud. You wanted to breathe, to take in the air, but it felt too thick, too heavy.

Finally, your hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white from the tension. You pressed your forehead against the wheel, trying to still the trembling that was slowly overtaking your body. And then, just like that, the dam broke. It wasn’t a sob at first. It was a sharp intake of breath—a gasp that felt like it was being ripped from you. And then came the tears, hot and fast, flowing down your face without mercy. Your chest ached as the sobs wracked your body, each one pulling something from you that you couldn’t even name. The quiet of the car only made the pain more acute, the isolation more unbearable.

The tears didn’t stop—they couldn’t. You cried for the dream you’d lost, the dream you’d clung to for so long, the dream you had built with him. You cried for the tiny clothes, the nursery, the baby names you’d never get to say. You cried for Spencer, for all the ways you felt like you were failing him. For all the ways you felt like you were breaking him, too.

Your sobs grew louder, more desperate, until your chest felt like it might collapse in on itself. There was nothing left to hold onto, no one to fix this, no way out.

And as the tears kept falling, as the sorrow consumed you, all you could do was let it happen. To sink into the ache, to let it wash over you, until you were nothing but an empty shell of the person you once were.

[evaslytherpuff]

Press Play

18+ Theo Nott X Innocent F!Reader (College AU)

Plot: You were just trying to do your duties as a Prefect. After catching Theo stealing from the potions closet, you had no choice but to report him. Now, Theo is out for revenge! You become his latest target and he’s willing to do anything to make sure you learn your lesson. Never snitch on a Slytherin.🐍

CW: Blackmail, Toxic Behavior, Manipulation, Teasing, Masturbation, Oral (F!receiving), Dubious Consent, Recorded interactions without consent! This story is not intended for Minors! Read at your own risk!

“Detention for a month! A fucking month!” Theo growled as he stormed into Herbology and took his designated seat next to Draco who was swatting at his Dittany plant.

“Damn, I feel sorry for you mate.” Draco chuckled with a shake of his icy blonde head. Theo wasn’t in the mood to laugh, smile, or joke around in the slightest. All he could do was stare daggers in your direction. The person who got him in trouble in the first place by being a little snitch. You had caught him stealing ingredients out of the professor's potions closet and immediately ran off to tell Slughorn what you witnessed. You claimed that you only did it because you were supposed to, you’re a prefect, it’s your job to report when students break the rules. Theo didn’t want to hear any of it as he left the professor’s office, his body trembling with rage.

You must have felt him glaring at you because you looked up and locked eyes with him. Your face grew pale and you quickly looked back down at your textbook, pretending to not notice the death stare you were receiving. Theo smiled to himself. Good. You should be intimidated, maybe even scared, you may look sweet and innocent but he didn’t care. He was now out for revenge.

When class was over you had tried to flee as quickly as possible but Theo was a lot faster and cornered you outside of the greenhouse. His hands were placed on either side of your head which caged you in and prevented you from escaping.

“You know…I always thought you were so kind and a girl who usually minded her own business. Now, all I see is someone who has a big mouth!” He growled in your ear as he leaned over you. “You didn’t have to say a damned thing to Professor Slughorn and yet…you did.” He sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “You snitched on me, got me in trouble, almost kicked off the quidditch team and for that…I want revenge.” His jaw clenched tightly as he stared into your frightened eyes.

“Is that a threat?” You tried your best to sound strong and powerful but he could hear the fear in your voice. It was obvious that his words freaked you out. He dropped his arms and stepped away from you with a vicious grin on his face.

“No. It’s a promise.” He spat with a glare before turning around and walking away.

Merlin, or the devil, must have been on his side the very next day because you had a huge accident right in the middle of the great hall during dinner. A clumsy Hufflepuff was switching seats at their table and ran right into you with a plate full of food. Your uniform was ruined and you were covered in a plethora of messy cuisine. Completely shocked and mortified, you fled from the hall holding back tears. Theo had to admit that he felt bad for you, maybe for a split second, but he also saw this as an opportunity.

“I’ll see you later.” He said with a pat to Mattheo’s back before he left the hall as well. He jogged to his dorm to search for what he needed and felt a sense of mischief wash over him when he found what he was looking for. A video camera.

He was fascinated with gadgets and gizmos muggles were always using, he even used magic to fix or improve them, and he knew that this device would come in handy. Feeling giddy and still angry, he set out to find you, already having a clue as to where you might be.

His hunch was absolutely correct and he found you alone in the girls locker room taking a shower. He cast a silencing charm on the door to remain as quiet as possible and a disillusionment charm on himself so he wouldn’t be seen. He crept up to the stall you were using and turned the camera on. Theo tried to be as silent as humanly possible as he stuck the lens of the device through the side of the shower curtain. He watched the display closely as your body came into focus and had to do a double take. He wasn’t expecting you to be so…sexy.

He swallowed hard as he gawked at your wet figure gracing the screen of his camera. You typically wore a school uniform that was two sizes too big for you and it was clearly hiding your mouth watering shape. The water shimmered off of your beautiful breasts, cascaded down sensual curves, and created a wet vision he thought he could only dream of. There you were though, in all your soaked glory, like one of his wildest fantasies.

He couldn’t fight the hard on that was raging in his pants as he watched you bathe, your palms roaming all over your alluring body. He was never envious of soap before until tonight. His free hand traveled down to rub his length through the fabric of his trousers. His eyes were glued to the screen of his camera as your hand slid down the front of your torso and stopped just above your pretty pussy. A sigh left your lips before you dipped your fingers between your folds and Theo’s eyes grew wide over the realization of what you were about to do. Soft moans floated through the air as you began to rub your sensitive clit in steady and firm motions. His hand ran over his aching cock as quickly as you worked your precious cunt. He bit his lip to stop the groans from escaping his mouth as he watched you masturbate in front of him. Sweet and innocent my ass, he thought, as he stopped himself from cumming in his boxers. A delicious scheme popped into his mind as you covered your mouth with your other hand and your climax overcame you. A wicked and cruel idea that would guarantee his revenge without a doubt. He would get you back for snitching on him…but he would also get what he now wanted more than anything.

Theo paced his dorm anxiously. You had received his note in class that demanded you meet him after detention at 9pm. If you didn’t show, his initial plan ultimately failed, it would also spell disaster for you. Deep down inside…he was hoping you’d knock on his door.

As if on cue, a gentle tapping echoed throughout his room. He took a deep breath before yanking open his door and smirking down at you as you stood in the entrance.

“Come in.” Theo gestured for you to step into his private dorm. You hesitated but walked inside with your hands clasped behind your back. Your nerves were plastered all over your face as your eyes scanned his bedroom. He had cleaned it, making sure it was utterly spotless. He didn’t want anything giving away what he was truly up to.

“Theodore…please accept my apology. I really am sorry that I reported you to Professor Slughorn. I was just doing what I’m told. I had to say something because I thought you…might be up to no good. I didn’t even stop to ask you what you needed the ingredients for. I just made assumptions and that was wrong of me.” You frowned and started to fidget with the hem of your skirt. Theo’s eyes couldn’t help but drift to the glimpse of your thighs that was revealed in your motions.

“You really got me into a mess. I hope you understand that. It’s great that I have…a way with words, and convinced our professor to just give me detention. He was going to kick me off the fucking Quidditch team! He mentioned possible expulsion! Do you really think “sorry” is enough to fix this? It’s not!” He paused. “I have something in mind though. Why don’t you take a seat.” He waved towards his bed and leered at you while you sank down on the edge of his mattress.

He had you right where he wanted you. Things were going perfectly and according to plan. Theo was practically vibrating with excitement over his possible win. He sat down beside you and noticed how you flinched as he reached behind you for the remote on his pillow. He stifled a chuckle as he placed the device in your hand.

“Why don’t you press play, Cara Mia.” He whispered in your ear and took in how you shivered beside him. Your hand shook uncontrollably as you raised the remote and aimed it at his television. You were reluctant to press the button until he cleared his throat which caused you to click play quickly.

He had his gaze glued to your face while you were focused on the TV. He took in each and every expression you made as tears welled in your pretty eyes and your breathing became erratic. Your hand covered your mouth in horror over your shower video that you were currently watching.

“Who knew you had all of that hidden under your uniform, Bella.” He cooed in your ear and you flung yourself away from him and stood up from the bed.

“You—you recorded me? Why? I already said I was sorry!” You shrieked as tears streamed down your adorable face.

“You can prove just how sorry you are to me. You almost got me expelled! You nor Professor Slughorn asked what I even intended to do with the ingredients I stole! Right away you saw me as the bad guy! Well…now I am the bad guy. Sit! Down!” He shouted and you swiftly obeyed as he turned off the television. He moved to kneel down on the floor in front of you and reached out to wipe the tears from your face but you smacked his hand away. He sighed in frustration after you turned down his attempt at kindness so he gripped your chin in his hand and forced you to look at him.

“You are going to do everything I tell you until my revenge is complete and it won’t be finished until I say it is. You won’t protest, you won’t say no to me, no ifs ands or buts. If you defy me in any way…I’ll show your little video to everyone in school. Do you understand me?” He growled in your face and you nodded frantically against his palm. He released your chin and gently brushed his thumb over your cheek.

“Wha—what do you want me to do? I—I’ll do your homework, I’ll give you my notes, I’ll help you study. I—I’ll assist you in any way just please, I’m begging you, don’t show that video to anyone. Please, Theodore.” More tears spilled from your eyes as he stood up to look down at you.

“Ha. You think I need help with school? No. No no no.” He tsked and peered into your eyes. “I want to have my way with you. You will meet me here every night exactly at 9pm and you will do whatever I say. There will be a few rules though. No kissing. Don’t leave any marks where people can see them. You can’t tell anyone about this. Finally, don’t catch feelings! After seeing your…video, how could I resist? You’re awfully tempting.” He helped you stand up as your face paled and jaw dropped. He couldn’t help but smirk when you struggled to form a coherent sentence.

“What’s the matter, Bella? Cat got your tongue?” He taunted as he removed your robe and pulled your tie over your head. He started to undo the buttons of your top when you stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

“Are—are you serious, Theodore? Sex? Th—that’s what you want?” He tilted his head at you when he noticed your lip quivering and fresh tears run down your devastated face. He felt a slight pang in his chest seeing how upset you were but he still wasn’t going to change his mind. You almost got him kicked out of school.

“Of course I am. I promise it won’t be so bad. You just have to do whatever I say. That’s all. If you misbehave in any way, I’ll share your video. All you gotta do is be a good girl and things will be fine. Okay. So…let’s begin.” He paused. “Take off your shirt.” He said sternly while you just glared at him, your expressions a mix of anger and distress over your new situation. Your hands trembled as you slowly undid one button at a time then hesitated before you slid the top from your shoulders and let the material fall down your arms. Now, you were just standing in your bra and skirt and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He loved how your lace bra perfectly hugged your breasts and his fingers itched to cup and play with your tits. He stalked closer to you and gently clasped your throat in his hand, your eyes growing wide as you gasped, before pushing you down to lay on his bed. Your legs still hung off the edge of the mattress as he moved to lay beside you. He took a moment to really take you in while he was propped up on his elbow before releasing your neck to run his fingers over your collarbone. He ran the back of his knuckles slowly up and down your chest. He repeated these soft motions hoping that it would help you relax but your body remained tense and you refused to look at him.

“Look at me.” He murmured softly in your ear. You shut your eyes tightly before turning your head to face him. You took a few deep breaths before opening your eyes for him. His hand finally cupped your boob and you hissed in a breath. He groaned over the softness of your breast blending perfectly with the texture of your bra. He palmed and caressed your chest as you trembled beside him. He switched to your other boob and you tried to hold back on a whimper.

“Merlin! You’re so sensitive. It’s okay…you can let it out. I want to hear you. Remove your bra for me, Bella.” He breathed in your ear and watched goosebumps spread across your skin. You stared up at the canopy of his bed as you lifted yourself up a bit to undo the clasps of your bra. You slipped it from your body and quickly covered your chest with your arms. He rolled his eyes as you laid back down next to him.

“I’ve already seen them before or should I play the video again to remind you?” He smirked and leaned in to pepper your neck with kisses.

“No! I just—I’m nervous alright!” You groaned in frustration as you slowly removed your arms from your chest and glued them to your sides. Your eyes were shut firmly and your breathing was shaky as you displayed just how nervous you were, your body stiff as a board.

“Relax, Bella. I’ve got you.” He whispered as his gaze drank in the beauty of your chest exposed to the cool air of his room. Your pretty nipples pebbled from the cold right before his eyes and his hand reached out to pinch one between his fingers. He brought his head down to slip the other into his mouth and you yelped from the warmth of his tongue. He pulled away from your body with a glare.

“Damn woman, you really are sensitive. Are you alright?” He asked with sincere concern.

“No! I’m not alright! That’s such a ridiculous question! This is just…it’s just too much for me. I said I was sorry and it didn’t help. Look at where my actions have gotten me.” More tears formed in your eyes and a part of him knew he had to comfort you. Sure he was pissed at you for snitching on him but something about you tugged at his heart. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Look, I accept your apology. Try to see things from my perspective. You almost got me expelled. How would you feel if you were me?” He asked as he moved to lay over you. Your face was inches away from his and you frowned.

“I wouldn’t do this to someone. I wouldn’t blackmail them. I—I don’t know what I would have done.” You said softly and looked away.

“Try and see it this way. The two of us are just blowing off steam and having a good time. No strings attached. You could do whatever you want to me. Try something you’ve never done before. As long as you’re good, your video is safe with me.” He rubbed your cheek with his thumb and you bit your bottom lip.

“I—I’ve…never done…any of this before.” You said sadly and sniffled.

“Wait…are you saying…you’re a virgin?” He asked as he sought out your eyes. You refused to make eye contact with him but you nodded without another word.

That’s what it was! Your innocence is what drew him in. He loved your reactions to being touched and thought you were absolutely adorable. He felt such a rush after knowing he was the first guy to see you like this. The thought of being your first made his heart pound in his chest.

“Fuck…you’re a gift, Bella.” He moaned as his lips claimed your neck once again. He buried his face against you, lavishing you with feverish kisses, as you whined and arched beneath him. He kissed from your neck to your collarbone down to your flushed chest. His tongue lapped out to lick and tease your stiff nipples, his mouth alternating from one to the other to suck on them hungrily. His hands gripped your sides to try and hold you in place but your writhing only turned him on even more. He stopped showering your breasts with attention and kissed down your stomach, his eyes falling on your skirt. You were panting and blinking rapidly as you lifted your head to watch him.

“Theodore? What are you about to do? What’s happening?” You looked so confused, disheveled, and aroused beyond recognition. Something in Theo snapped, in his eyes, you looked like a sexual goddess blessing his bed. For you, this was probably so overwhelming. So he made a decision in that moment. He would be merciful. He slid from the bed and knelt down on the floor between your legs. Your skirt shadowed what he desperately wanted to see, his hands snaking up your legs to rest on your thighs. You shivered from his touch and realization flashed in your eyes as you watched his hands slide further under your skirt.

“Call me Theo. I’m—I’m gonna make you feel good.” He murmured as he brought his lips to hover above your thigh, his warm breaths against your skin made your legs tremble in his hands. He gently caressed your thighs to attempt to soothe you but you still seemed to shiver no matter what he did. His hands explored the expanse of your skin as he reached under your skirt to wrap his fingers around the waistband of your lace panties. He tugged them out of place and you attempted to shut your legs around his head. He chuckled as he blocked you trying to shut him out with a firm hand on the inside of your thigh. You whimpered and covered your eyes for a moment as he moved closer and slowly lifted your skirt. He finished his work by completely removing your underwear and sticking them in his pocket. You frowned at him but didn’t protest as he moved further up between your legs.

“A man…has never tasted you before?” He asked breathlessly as he spread your legs even further.

“No.” You sniffled and watched him closely as he licked his lips. He brought his face closer to your cunt and smiled when he noticed just how wet you were.

“My my. For someone who doesn’t want this, you’re fucking soaked, Bella.” He chuckled.

“Shut up!” You huffed and let yourself fall back against his bed, your pretty face beet red. He placed one kiss where your beautiful leg met your glistening sex and you quivered as a soft moan escaped your lips. He leaned in and gently kissed the lips of your pussy and you gasped loudly, covering your face with your palms. Your wetness clung to his lips as he pulled away from you and he couldn’t help but lick them, his eyes widening over how sweet you tasted.

In that moment, he didn’t hesitate, Theo latched his mouth onto your dripping cunt and started to eat you out like a man starved. You tasted like the most delectable treat to ever bless his tongue and your scent was equally as intoxicating. He groaned into you as his hands moved to grip your hips. He was sure he left bruises on your delicate skin but he didn’t care, he felt utterly lost in you. Your moans echoed throughout his room, your hands were no longer on your face but gripped the sheets instead, your sensual body was writhing against him and his hungry mouth and he was savoring every second of it.

“You taste so fucking good!” He groaned against your dripping folds, your juices running down his chin to leave wet spots on his sweatpants. He let go of your hips to reach down and free his aching cock from his clothes. One hand wrapped around his length and started to pump furiously, matching the pace of his tongue. His free hand wrapped around one of your legs to reach your throbbing clit. His thumb rubbed circles on the sensitive bud while his tongue delved deeper into your innocent hole.

“Th—Theo! It’s—it’s too much! Oh fuck, I’m close! So close!” You cried while your fingers moved to grip his hair. Your hips ground urgently against his mouth and fingers and your desperate need had him stroking his cock even faster. He increased the pace of his thumb and watched as your back arched up from his bed. He quickly sucked on your aching clit and you cried out as you came on his tongue. With a few more pumps, his orgasm followed right behind you and he came all over the bedroom floor. That had never happened before. He got off just from eating you out. Something inside him felt hungry and primal and he just couldn’t stop himself. He gave your pussy one last kiss and you shuddered as he moved away from you to let you catch your breath.

He tucked his cock back into his boxers and looked up to gauge your reaction. You were staring blankly up at the bed canopy with your hand over your chest. He slowly moved to sit beside you and wiped your slick from his mouth as you tried to gain your composure.

“I—I can’t believe—that just happened.” You murmured.

“Are you alright?” Theo asked as he helped you sit up beside him. You nodded gently but wouldn’t make eye contact with him. You slowly stood up from the bed but he noticed the slight wobble in your legs as you moved to grab your bra and shirt. You eyed his pocket as you slipped on your clothes but he shook his head at you with a scoff.

“You’re not getting them back, Bella. I’m sure you won’t miss one pair of panties.” He smirked as you glared at him and put on your robe.

“Fine. Keep them.” You sighed heavily but he loved how your cheeks grew red over the thought of him keeping your underwear. He helped you walk to his door and he held it open for you.

“Same time tomorrow. Don’t be late.” He gripped your chin between his fingers and you blushed.

“I thought that…I thought you wanted to have sex with me.” You said softly as you finally looked into his eyes.

“Maybe another time, be glad I chose to be kind tonight. If I really wanted to, I could have had you screaming my name while I pound that pretty pussy of yours.” He smirked at you while your jaw dropped in shock.

“I—I can’t believe you just said that.” You said softly while your cheeks burned a bright red.

“I’ve got you thinking about now, don’t I?” He asked with a cocky smile on his face.

“N—no! I’m just—still shocked about all of this and what happened. I just wanna go to bed. I’ll umm—I’ll see you tomorrow.” You replied meekly and pulled your robe tighter around your body as you walked through his door.

“Oh! Don’t forget,” he called out to you, “make sure you don’t run into any prefects on your way back to your dorm. Wouldn’t want anyone catching you and thinking that you were up to no good.” He chuckled wickedly as your jaw dropped over his audacity.

He shut the door on you and listened as you stormed off down the hallway. When things were quiet, he quickly moved over to his television and moved a small plant he had on the stand. Hidden beside the leaves was his camera. He hit the rewind button then grinned when he pressed play and saw the video he had recorded. Everything the two of you had done tonight was captured on film and added to his list of blackmail material. He smiled viciously to himself as he put the device away. Yes, he was definitely going to have his way with you.

Tag list: @underthenightskydreamsneverdie @slytherinravebabe @helendeath if I missed any tags, please let me know and I will happily add you.🥰❤️

My first Theo fic! I hope you like it because I have plenty more to come. It feels good to be writing again.🥹❤️

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie sighed as he turned to the bartender, “Can I have the cheapest beer you got? But you only let me have one?”

The guy nodded at him, passing one over with a sympathetic smile, “Designated driver?”

“Something like that,” Eddie said, his eyes wandering back to the dance floor. At least the two of them were having fun, giggling and twirling each other around. They were cute together, always were. No one could make Steve smile like Robin could, a fact that Eddie was just going to have to accept.

He sipped his beer as he watched them, smiling to himself a little at how happy they looked. Until someone was tapping on his shoulder. Eddie glanced up, surprised to see a guy standing there. He looked… good. J.Crew-esque with a bright smile.

“You don’t really look like the type to come in here,” He said, taking the bar stool next to him.

Eddie gave him a once over, deciding to be quick about not leading him on. He shrugged,  “I’m not, but the people I love are.”

The guy nodded along, his eyes trailing to the dance floor. Eddie followed the line of it, frowning when he realized he was looking right at Steve. Robin was in the middle of dipping him, both of them laughing. Eddie swallowed as he looked at them, watching the shine of the bright, colorful dance light cross over his face. He looked gorgeous, relaxed and giggly as he went to return the favor to her. Though now that Eddie was looking around he was realized he wasn’t the only one staring.

“Speaking of that,” The guy went on, “What’s the deal with the guy you came in with?”

Eddie’s frown only deepened at the question, “Who, Steve?”

“Is that his name?” The stranger asked, obviously interested. 

At least he had good taste, Eddie had to give him that. Even if the question had his eye twitching, “Yeah, that’s his name.”

"So is he single or is the blonde a permanent fixture?" He asked. 

Eddie snorted, “She’s a permanent fixture, all right. But she’s queer as a three-dollar bill, so not much to worry about there.”

That was the wrong answer if the excited look on his face was any indicator. 

“You know what kind of drink he likes?” He asked, already motioning for the bartender. 

Eddie swallowed, the sick feeling coming back. The worst part is that he could see it. Steve with someone like this. Handsome, self-assured, confident. Actually comfortable in their own skin. He couldn’t help but think they would look good together. 

The thought just wasn’t enough to stop Eddie from blurting, “Of course I do. He’s my boyfriend after all.” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did he just say that? Eddie bit the inside of his cheek at the stupid lie. At how easily it had rolled off his tongue. 

“Oh yeah?” He asked, disappointment coloring his voice. 

Eddie had ample time to correct himself, to say my bad. He’s my best friend. That was a slip of the tongue. To say anything else.  

He doesn’t.

No, not when the anxiety he had firmly nestled in the pit of his stomach finally started to soften. Besides, Eddie liked how disheartened he looked. 

He liked it enough to keep lying his ass off. He took another sip of his beer, feigning casual, “Hard to tell since the two of them have been hanging off each other all night. But yeah, he’s mine.”

He hadn’t expected for those words to feel so good.  

The guy sighed, “Well, good for you man. He’s a looker, I doubt I’m the only one who had my eyes on him.”

“He has that effect on people,” Eddie said, his eyes trailing around the room. Watching every face that was looking Steve’s way. He hated it on them just as much as he did on the stranger next to him. 

Fuck it, he was already in this deep. He might as well keep it going.

“Feel free to spread the word,” Eddie added as the guy stepped away, “It will save me some time.”

“Will do,” He sighed again before walking off, setting his sights on someone else. 

The bartender chuckled as he wandered off, clearly eavesdropping in, “You want me to spread the word too? I’ve already got four guys who are looking to buy him a drink when he gets off the floor.”

Eddie was barely surprised. 

“Spread it like wildfire,” He said easily, his eyes going straight back to Steve.

Part of him had expected some guilt when people started looking his way. Whispering to each other while Eddie glared at anyone who even looked like they wanted to get to Steve. He knew he could cut an intimidating figure when he wanted to. The way he dressed usually did most of the heavy lifting, but he didn’t doubt how harshly his expressions were coming off. It also helped that every last guy who came to saddle up to the bartender to try and get a drink going for Steve walked away disappointed once he pointed a thumb towards Eddie’s direction. It definitely earned him a disproportionate tip, despite the fact the Eddie was internally freaking the fuck out.

He didn’t feel guilty, but he felt… possessive. Offended almost that people didn't just assume he was taken. Something that he didn’t know how to rationalize. But that didn’t stop him from trying. 

from the latest chapter of this fic

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.

I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?

Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.

There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).

Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.

It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?

Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.

But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.

It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.

And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.

I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.

[deadbeat-motel]

ᐯᗩGGIE ᗩᑎᗪ ᑕᕼᗩᖇᒪIE ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ

These two are simpler than the angel dust design I did since I didn't have a lot to go off of. Posted on Valentine's Day because yes I can.

I don't think Charlie is significantly different from her Pilot design because I genuinely think it was the best design from the cast (before the redesign).

Thoughts below, though TW for the creepy charlie image at the end:

My issues with their Original designs:

Vaggie:

The giant "X" over her eye is really distracting and even world-breaking because

1. Why had no one put 2 and 2 together that the only character in Hell who has a visible 'X' mark on her face might be related to the angels who also sport that X mark on their faces.

2. Why is it shaped like an X? Her eye was taken out via a single slash.

3. If the hair's purpose was to cover it, why would it show through it? What's the point of the hair then?

The hair that was supposed to cover that wounded eye looked so ugly and confused as to what it should be doing. I mean every shot that showed that thing in a sideview shot of Vaggie felt like the animators had to make their own guesses as to how that was supposed to look like. It was distracting for me personally and I hated it so much.

It's been said over and over again, but her clothes look like she works at McDonalds. I get needing to change her outfit so that she looks like she works at the hotel, but it's just been poorly designed.

Why change her clothes' colors from white to red? the white helped her stand out from Hell and the Hotel's majority red background. (In the finale, she at least has a non-red attire)

She's also one of the very few women in HH and she falls under the skinny stick side of it despite being an angel exterminator.

Her hair is kind of hard to visualize looking at in any way other than what it is when it's static. However, when it changed into a ponytail or a bob, it's actually really nice to look at.

Unsure of what that bow's purpose is for the design.

Charlie:

Charlie is a simple but very confused design. The pilot design was a lot more coherent than the current show design

It's disappointing to see the bouncy Pilot hair go and be replaced by that boring bubble braid of all things.

Her undershirt peaks out of her tuxedo.... why???? to separate the top jacket and the pants? You wouldn't need to do that if her pants were a different color like the pilot design.

Thought about it and was confused, as a demon with an angelic father, why didn't she have wings as well? She didn't need the 6 wings like Lucifer but maybe a pair of one would appear?

Out of all the characters for the show's redesign, Her's was by far the MOST infuriating to me. Her pilot design wasn't perfect but it was good, they had to downgrade her for some reason.

I didn't have much to say about Charlie. it basically sums up to "the Pilot design was better".

On to the thought process for these two:

Valerie the fallen:

Yes, she got a rename. Sue me.

I had to remove the moth aspect of her design because it doesn't seem like it makes sense for a heaven-born to follow the sinner's rule of "gaining features based on the life you lived" since she basically never lived right?

In this redesign (and eventual rewrite), Valerie is not ashamed of her exterminator background. In fact, she was known as the most recent "fallen" in hell. her short stature doesn't make her less of a threat to the demons.

She's also visually thick with muscle because why not let one of the show's women have a body type that isn't stick-thin?

She's using the wings that were torn off of her as both an interesting article of clothing and as a way to remind others and her that she is (or more accurately 'was') an angel who could kill them if she wanted to.

Her clothes are pure black underneath the pale feathers to show that while she is an "angel", deep down, she is far from a good person.

She's also getting an actual skin color because from what I gathered myself from the show's heaven. Most of the souls there still retain a human appearance (Adam, Lute, St. Peter, and the other random human angels up there still look human..... but just don't mind the fact that most of them are white.)

Her hair is that ponytail she had in the finale because as much as I didn't like that episode, some designs looked actually decent.

Also, her hair actually covers the eye scar properly.

I wanted to keep her ribbon as a splash of brightness on her design but the OG ribbon looks a little out of place on a warrior so It became that (Plus it pays homage to her OG moth influence with its shape looking like the fluffy antennas of the moth)

Gave the spearhead a little bit of detail on it plus a chipped side so that it has a bit of charm as an old weapon she still decides to keep around.

A note about Valerie's design is that I haven't tackled the armor of angels yet so I was unsure of what pieces of the undesigned armor to give Valerie as of now.

Charlie:

I honestly actually enjoyed her Pilot hair, so I tried to put it back and also simplify it a bit so there are not a lot of strands for me to keep track of. Plus it was a genuinely cute design for her. (There's a reason that version was used in the Verbalase video.) <- I'M JOKING

Replaced her button nose with a goat's because a friend has commented how it looked like the noses of the women in a Goofy Movie and I will never be able to unsee that.

Her hair is also a lot brighter compared to her washed-out blonde color.

She has the same design thought process as Valerie, Covering the darkness of her true nature with white fluffy fur which is stylized like feathers at its ends. She has pitch-black skin underneath and looks like a proper nightmarish demon like the image below.

I ditched the tuxedo look, since almost all the cast has a similar outfit already, and gave her a jumpersuit instead. (Idk what it's really called but that's what I think it is). It's a light grey because she's a mix of bad and good (though a bright grey because she prefers to be on the good side)

Her horns are there and visible because yeah it's cute but also helps her read as the half-angel/half-demon character she is.

Tiny goat tail because can you imagine every time Valerie holds the rare angel smile of approval, her tail is visibly wagging in glee and excitement???? My heart would die. I love these lesbians with my life.

Has wings from her father.

Anyways, those are my thoughts and redesigns... I wanted to add more details to them but I didn't really know what to add that didn't feel unnecessary.

Also bonus! Concept art of Charlie's true form:

[milswrites]

Hobbies Part 11.

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: mentions of sex

“Will you stop fussing? You look divine!” Azriel praised as he walked up to where Y/N was nervously fretting over her appearance in the mirror. His soothing hands meeting her waist as he pulled her backwards to rest against his chest in a comforting embrace. Mesmerised eyes taking in the reflection before him, Y/N wrapped perfectly in his arms as if she was the missing piece of what was the unfinished puzzle of Azriel’s life.

He placed a tender kiss against her cheek, moving his hands to appreciatively brush them along the fabric of her dress. Another marvellous creation of her own design. “You don’t happen to have a matching top for me, do you?” He asked, eyes still locked onto her angelic face in the mirror as he delicately planted sweet kisses along her neck. A twinkle appeared in her eyes as she pouted in faux disappointment, “I’m afraid not. I must say I’m surprised, I didn’t take you as the kind of person who would want to wear matching clothes with his lover in front of his family.”

“Well it’s a good job you’re not only my lover but my mate as well” he playfully bit the lobe of her ear, the blushing woman squealing in the tight grip of his arms as she tried to escape his affectionate nibbles. Azriel pulling her back into him, refusing to let the woman go, amber eyes moving back to the mirror to admire the happy couple smiling back at him in the reflection. Stomach doing somersaults at the love shining in Y/N’s eyes as she looked up at the male.

Azriel sighed heavily as he rested his chin onto Y/N’s shoulder, “Are you sure we can’t just stay here? I can think of many, much more scandalous, things I’d rather do with you than go and see my family.”

“And aren’t we so fortunate that we now have all the time in the world to do said scandalous things. We can try every sinful thought that crosses through that dirty mind of yours.”

Azriel’s grip on Y/N tightened at her words, his eyes growing dark as she sent a dangerously sensual image down the new found bond. She smirked at his growing predicament pressing against her, pleased at the power she held over the male, before she teased, “oh but what a shame. I think if we tried to escape your family any longer they might come and bash down my door and I’d rather not have an audience when I’m showing you just how much I love you.”

“Let them watch” he groaned, smile dropping from his face as she pulled away before he could act on his desires.

Y/N began to pace the room anxiously, repeating everything Azriel had told her about his friends, “So there’s Rhysand and Feyre, and they have the baby right?”

“Nyx yes.”

“And then there’s Cassian and Nesta. Then Mor, Amren and… oh gosh who was it? Ella? Eleanor?”

“Elain.”

“Yes Elain! Ok.”

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured the fretting woman, just as he had been doing for the past six hours since Rhysand had sent them the invitation, “as much as I know I’m going to dislike it, I don’t think there’s a single person who could meet you and not fall unbelievably and entirely in love with you.”

Y/N stopped her pacing, flushing at Azriel’s words as she moved towards him to place her smaller hands in his, “well, unfortunately for them I only have eyes for my big grumpy mate who would no doubt show them who I belong to.”

“I’m not grumpy, I just don’t like people” Azriel defended with a scowl as a giggling Y/N pecked his cheek.

“Ok” she released a deep breath, giving Azriel’s hands a gentle squeeze, “I’m ready. Let’s go now before I change my mind.”

“The beds right there” Azriel pleaded as she rolled her eyes at his hint, playfully slapping his chest as he chuckled. The male drew her into a crushing embrace, sneaking in one last kiss on the top of her head before his shadows engulfed them. A storm of darkness surrounding their hold as the shadows whisked the loving couple away to the Night Court. To Velaris the City of Starlight.

~~~~~

The pair stepped out from the shadows into an empty cobbled street. A slight chill in the air causing Y/N to shiver at the unfamiliar climate, Azriel made a mental note to get her some more weather appropriate clothes for whenever she was to join him in the Night Court.

Azriel watched on with nervous interest as Y/N took in her new surroundings. Having never been to the night court, he prayed she would find Velaris just as magical as he had done. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, she may be looking at these streets as a place she would one day like to call home.

They hadn't yet had the chance to talk about how their relationship would work with the two hailing from different courts, but Azriel couldn't help but let his mind drift to sweet thoughts of the pair living together in a small cottage overlooking the Sidra. Once more dreaming of a perfect domestic life with the woman, only this time he could dream of them doing it all together as mates.

Y/N was beaming widely as usual, her bright eyes absorbing the view of the picturesque street. "Oh Az, it's beautiful! It looks just like something from a fairytale!" she exclaimed, Azriel releasing a relieved sigh at her open appreciation.

"Yeah?" he asked shyly, "Think you'd like to come back to visit me here?" He needed to hear the words from her lips so Azriel could be free to dream about the future he so longed to have.

Y/N laughed at his anxious question, finding it silly how he would think a place would change her opinion of the man, how it would change how deeply she felt about him, "Azriel," she smiled, pulling both of his hands into her own, "you could live in a literal ditch, and I would still visit you every opportunity I have. Because I love you Azriel, not your Court. Although it is a very beautiful one...you may find it quite difficult to get rid of me."

Now feeling silly about his previous worries, Azriel leaned forward to press a soft kiss against Y/N's lips, joking as he pulled away, "I'd wait to meet my family first before you say things like that, you may change your mind on that fairly quickly."

"I'm sure if they're even half as good as you are I'll love them" she replied, pulling the male in for another sweet kiss whilst they were still in the pleasurable bubble of their own company.

"Don't say I didn't warn you" Azriel teased as he began to lightly push Y/N in the direction they needed to go, his large hand resting protectively on the small of her back.

~~~~~

Azriel already knew this was going to be the most embarrassing night of his life. He had already prepared for that. What he hadn't prepared for was the impatient nudge of Rhysand's voice in his head telling him to hurry up and meet them at Feyre's art studio in the Rainbow. Azriel had expected a sit down meal, maybe even a trip to Rita's for a few drinks if the night went well, but of course it seems his brother has something more nefarious planned.

The shadowsinger, who already wished he was still holed up in the Day Court cottage with Y/N, sullenly led his mate to where the rest of his family were waiting for the pair. Y/N failed to notice his bitter mood, she was too preoccupied with gazing at her surroundings in awe as Azriel dragged her through the winding streets by her hand, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

Her excitement over being in a new court steadily increasing, until by the time they had made it to the Rainbow Azriel was sure if she were any happier she'd likely combust from the enthusiasm.

He held the door open for her as they entered the studio, Y/N's eyes lighting with glee as she noticed where he had taken her. The inner circle were all waiting inside, turning from their conversations to face the newly together couple.

"Oh my cauldron you're beautiful!" Cassian cried overenthusiastically earning an eye roll from his mate due to his antics. Bounding over to the pair he mockingly wipes faux tears from his eyes before gripping Y/N by her arms and pulling her into the biggest bear hug he could muster. If Y/N were startled by his actions she didn't show it, instead she reciprocated the hug, grinning at the large man as she spoke, "You must be Cassian, I've heard so much about you."

The General gasped as he put her down, turning to yank his grumbling brother into a hug as he teased, "Oh Azzie, I knew you always talked about me!" The rest of his family began to approach the pair, exchanging welcoming hugs (which were less bone-crushing than Cassian's but just as warming) and polite greetings.

Azriel watched his family interact with the woman and he couldn't help but think that if Y/N could be likened to anything it would be the sun, her glowing energy forcing anyone near her to fall into a natural orbit. Her presence acting like gravity, drawing everyone towards her. They had been in the room for all of two minutes and Y/N was already animatedly chatting away with Feyre as she admired her studio, the two women acting as though they had been friends for centuries.

Whilst she was distracted, a grouchy Azriel hovered over to Rhysand, whispering sharply in the male's ear so not to be overheard, "What are we doing here?"

"I showed Feyre the painting from Y/N and she wanted to plan something that would make her feel comfortable, isn't that sweet Azzie?" Rhysand smirked at Azriel's bulging eyes, clearly finding his shock entertatining.

"You showed her the painting?" he grit through his teeth, cheeks turning red at the thought of the High Lady seeing something that felt so personal to Azriel.

"Oh...I showed everyone the painting" Rhys replied as if it was obvious, pointing over to where a flushed Y/N was smiling gently as Feyre held said painting in her hands as she talked about it to the woman.

"You actually hate me" Azriel concluded, eyes now drifting around the room in fear as he noticed the number of blank canvases standing on easels. Feyre's brilliant idea obviously being that they all had a family painting session.

"Don't worry brother," Rhysand grinned as he wrapped a comforting arm around Azriel, "I brought drinks!"

~~~~~

The concentration in the room was palpable. Well, from some of the members. Azriel, Feyre, Amren and Cassian all working in a focused silence, tongues absentmindedly poking from their lips. Elain was also opting to work quietly, unreadable eyes sometimes flickering in the direction of the shadowsinger and his new love. On the other hand: Rhysand, Mor, Nesta and Y/N were all happily chatting away as they gossiped whilst painting their creations. Wine flowing to their heads as they giggled to each other whilst occasionally stumbling on the tall wooden stools they were sat on.

"I have to say," Rhysand mumbled a confession as he squinted at his painting, "Azriel gave us quite the fright when he disappeared from here - twice may I add. He was acting like a feral beast, we all thought you had to mean a lot to him for him to be acting like that."

"Well," Y/N sighed contentedly, affectionate eyes meeting Azriel's from where he sat next to her, "I suppose finding out you're mates would do that to someone."

A chorus of surprised cries flooded the room. The inner circle chiding their friend for not breaking the news to them sooner. Sweet Elain squeaked in shock, spitting out a large gulp of wine all over her canvas. Meanwhile Cassian shouted, "I knew it!" and began to list all the unrelated reasons as to why he believed he had always known that Azriel found his mate during his stay in the Day Court.

"Mates?" Elain quietly sounded, eyes locking onto the floor in disappointment. Before she could say anymore her sister chimed in, Nesta leaning over to place a friendly hand on Y/N's own as she congratulated the couple, "That's wonderful news. We're really happy for you Azriel, you two make a wonderful pair."

Having been sat in a nervous stupor most of the night, praying that Y/N and his family got on well, Azriel flashed Nesta a crooked smile, thanking the woman for her kind words. "Yeah, we do" he replied earnestly, eyes moving to rest on his lovely mate.

"Well cheers to that!" Cassian bellowed as he raised his full glass in the air, liquid sloshing messily down his sleeve.

~~~~~

"What is that?" Y/N asked, squinting inquisitively at Cassian's masterful creation, "A horse?...A blue horse?".

Cassian frowned, a paint-stained hand coming to rest on his chin as he observed his painting alongside the woman. "It's supposed to be Azriel" he admitted in disappointment, "I guess I can't quite get the face right.” Y/N laid a supportive hand onto the general's shoulder, lying through her teeth in an attempt to make it feel better, "Oh of course! You're just forgetting the wings that's all!"

The General gasped at Y/N's words, beside himself that he forgot to paint his brothers wings, he eagerly lunged for his palette so he could complete the portrait of his, eyebrows still knitted together as he focused on painting the lines as steadily as he could.

Y/N moved past the male with a chuckle, wanting to see what other wonders Azriel's family had created. She came across the most exquisite piece, a lovely garden which radiated life, beautiful flowers of all shades decorating the scene. Gasping in awe at the tranquility of the scene, she turned to the artist to profess her appreciation, "It's beautiful! I've never seen a garden like it!"

"Oh...Thank you," Elain quietly answered, "It's of my own one."

"You have a garden? Oh that's wonderful, I bet the painting doesn't even do it justice! You must be really talented if it looks anything as good as this."

Elain cracked a small smile of appreciation, "Thank you, you can come see it sometime if you like. The next time Azriel brings you up maybe?"

"I'd love that!" Y/N replied joyfully, having always had a love for gardens which had only increased by a tenfold since that night with her mate. Azriel tentatively approached the pair, slowly walking towards them before coming to a stop at Y/N's side. "Everything ok here?" he nervously asked, eyes flittering between the two.

"Yes!" Y/N beamed, resting her head against his shoulder, "I was just telling Elain how magnificent her painting is, and she's invited me to come see her garden next time I'm here!"

Azriel relaxed his muscles, not even noticing how tense he had been standing, he flashed Elain a grateful smile, eyes full of apologies for not telling her what had unraveled during his time in Autumn, for not giving her the closure she deserved, "Thank you Elain."

The woman grew a mischievous smile, pulling a sniggering Y/N to her side and into a one-armed hug, "I don't know why you're thanking me Azriel. It's Y/N who I invited, not you."

~~~~~

It had been a wonderful night. Meeting Azriel's family and being allowed a glimpse into his life here in the Night Court filled Y/N with an indescribable warmth she has failed to experience in her life until this moment. Still admiring the artwork they had created tonight, Y/N slowly approached Feyre's canvas, tears welling in her eyes at the sight before her.

There, huddled together in the center of the detailed painting was the inner circle. Arms wrapped around each other's figures, connecting them all in one large hug. Laughing faces stared back at Y/N, their eyes all overflowing with carefree humour as their dazzling smiles met her own.

And there, joined in the familial embrace, was Y/N. Locked tightly in a beaming Azriel's arms. Her smile as equally wide as his as her eyes twinkled with an uncontrollable joy.

Y/N had never had any family and spent most of her life growing up alone and uncared for. But here, wide eyes staring at the familiar woman in the painting who was surrounded by Azriel's loving family, Y/N allowed herself to dream of that family one day being hers as well.

"Oh wow that's amazing" Azriel's voice sounded from behind Y/N, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder as he admired Feyre's hard work. Y/N failed to hold the sob that broke from her mouth as she settled into Azriel's tender hold. "Hey...hey what's wrong?" Azriel asked worriedly, shifting Y/N in his embrace until her face was pressed against his chest. He murmured sweet nothings into her ear to calm her until she was able to speak, swaying them gently in an attempt to comfort the sniffling woman.

Once Y/N had settled enough to speak, she craned her neck back in order to look at her mate, eyes still red and watery. "You have the most amazing family" she wept, unable to stop the tracks of tears rolling down her cheeks.

"We do" Azriel replied simply, agreeing with her statement. He placed a small kiss on her forehead before beginning to gently wipe the tears from her face with his hands. Turning Y/N until she faced the painting once more, back nestled into his chest. "You know I'm not actually related to any of them through blood" Azriel pointed out, his low voice rumbling against her back, "But we found each other and built something special between us. Something that means more to us than just family."

Y/N still sniffled slightly but she was deadly focussed on listening to every word that came from Azriel's mouth as he continued, "Some bonds run deeper than blood. And you're a part of that now. You're one of us."

"Yeah?" Y/N asked hesitantly, fingers coming to brush up against her euphoric form in the painting. Azriel hugged her midsection tightly, gently pulling her back so her hand dropped from the piece, "don't go trying to rub yourself off. You're stuck with us now."

She laughed through her tears, opting to rest her hands on Azriel's encircling arms instead. Happy with the home she had found with the male.

Allowing the final few tears to fall, she breathed out deeply, allowing her overwhelming emotions to expire.

"What did you paint?" she asked curiously, realizing she had now seen every painting in the room except her mates.

"Come on," he smiled, holding out a hand for her to take, "I'll show you."

~~~~~

Y/N stared at the painting which glared right back at her. Absorbing the piece in it's entirety as she tried to figure out what it was.

It was beautiful, a swirl of misty yellows and glittering golds, whirling together on the canvas. Colours blending in harmony as they glided across the surface. The picture had a depth to it, sparking a desire inside her chest to try and climb into it, to see just how far she would make it into the glowing storm, wondering what kind of nirvana she would discover at the end of it.

"Its incredible Az! But...what is it?" she daren't remove her eyes from the painting, afraid that the spiritual journey it was taking her on would be cut short.

"It's you" he replied, his proud amber eyes burning into his own work, "what you make me feel, what the bond makes me feel. Every stroke of the brush, every whirl of paint, it's all you."

His words held truth, as Y/N stood and observed each flowing line that moved along the canvas, she felt a strange sense of intamacy with the artwork. As though Azriel had torn out her soul and plastered it across the surface. Her soul which Azriel had recognized before she had, her mate knowing every part of her in it's entirety.

"I see you for what you are" Azriel stated, bond already revealing your thoughts to him, "Just as you see me."

"Cauldron Azriel!" Cassian's shrill voice severed the consuming aura of the moment Y/N and Azriel were sharing, "Feyre needs to start giving you some lessons cause let me tell you that is one ugly-"

Epilogue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Hehe if you want to do what I did picture Azriel punching Cassian for that!

Everybody can thank the lovely @charlineraven for speaking this extra part into existence! (I'm so glad you did! 💕💕)

Just the epilogue to go now!

Also for all those expecting a big Elain confrontation I’m sorry! It felt wrong to belittle a woman just for having a crush (come on! Who can blame her I love Az so much)

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @iluvyewman-blog @going-through-shit @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobssessedmylove @honeybeeboobaa @justvibbinghere @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001

[beansandsprouts]

Sunshine (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Bucky interacts with you here and there and finds himself feeling more connected to you. Driving him to want to see your soulmate mark even more.

Warnings: none

Sorry it took so long! College and work got me dying lmao. Updates will continue to be kinda spaced out. Fingers crossed I can get another one out over the weekend.

Also I am absolutely delighted by how much interest there's been in this! Thank you all sm for reading. Down below with the tags there's a link to a little survey, even if you're already on the tag list please fill it out. It's how I'll be keeping track of the tag list. If you don't fill it out you won't be tagged.

He hadn't been able to sleep that night.

You were right across the hall. Two doors separated you from him. And it drove him crazy knowing that you, his possible soulmate, were so close yet just out of reach.

He had dozed in and out of consciousness through the night, but found himself wide awake when he heard shuffling coming from your room. Super soldier hearing meant he heard you get out of bed and pad to your closet. What were you doing?

He heard your door shut quietly, and you make your way down the hall, and, after a few moments, the ding of the elevator door.

His mind raced, wondering what you could be doing. The next thing he knew he was tugging on a hoodie over his tank top and sweats over his boxers. He padded down the hall to the elevator, the little number above lit up saying the elevator was stopped at the floor right underneath him. The training room.

That made sense. From the way you'd spoken about your time in the military yesterday, you were highly trained and a huge asset, you likely had gotten up this early to train for years. He stood there for a moment, debating on going down as well.

The thought that maybe he'd get to see your soulmate mark was enough to have him going back to his room to get his shoes, water bottle, and towel. He wanted to make sure he looked like he was actually down there to train.

Hey, maybe he'd even get to spar with you, get to see what you were capable of.

The elevator moved only one floor, but it felt like it was taking forever. The doors opened to the small lobby and he pushed open the doors to the training room. You were doing some stretches, warming yourself up, and you looked up when he entered.

"Mornin!"

He mumbled the greeting back, now suddenly extremely nervous and starting to wonder why exactly he thought this would be a good idea.

"Didn't think I'd catch anyone this early." You seemed unbothered, warm smile despite the fact that it was so early you could still see the stars in the dark sky if you looked out the window.

He grunted in response, not being able to find the words to respond. He stood there for a moment, watching you, before walking off to start his own warmup. Which consisted of lifting more weight than you could even dream of getting even an inch over your chest. But it was light work for him.

You continued stretching but subtly watched him. You were a little disappointed he was wearing a hoodie, it did kind of obscure everything. Though you could imagine how good his muscles looked lifting that weight. Your face warmed a bit at the thought and you tried to force yourself to focus on the light burn in your calves as you stretched.

After a bit, you moved to wrap your hands and feet, wanting to practice on one of the dozen punching bags Tony had in there. He'd offhandedly mentioned he had to design a lot of the equipment himself so they could withstand the beating of the two super soldiers living in this place.

You focused on the swaying bag in front of you, vaguely aware of Bucky doing things behind you, but not paying him too much mind. Your mind was on getting out that pent up energy. Working with the Avengers was going to be very different from your previous work, and you knew there'd be a lot less for you to do on the daily. You had a feeling you'd probably be spending a lot of time in here.

You barely registered Bucky saying your name from behind you. When it did you paused your beating on the punching bag and turned to him.

"Whats up?"

"Spar?"

"Huh?"

Bucky gestured to the mat meant for sparring a little ways away. It was a little padding so whoever got dropped on their ass only hurt their pride.

"Oh! Yeah, sure." You grinned, you had to admit the idea was exciting. You were curious to see how you'd fare against one of these two.

The two of you settled into stances on the mat and you gave him a teasing grin, "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

You saw the corner of his mouth twitch with amusement as he raised a brow.

"Oh?"

"I don't have to be as worried about breaking you."

His eyes lit with curiosity, just what exactly were you capable of.

He watched you closely as you circled each other before lunging, swinging his non-metal arm at you. You blocked the hit easily and returned it with a swing of your own, which landed. His head snapped to the side as your fist connected with his jaw.

He took a step back, rubbing where you'd hit him. He hadn't expected you to hit that hard. Hell, Steve was one of the few people who's hits actually made his body ache. You packed some heat he was not expecting.

He squared up again and the two of you traded some blows back and forth before he realized you were barely flinching at the hits he landed. So he decided to turn it up a notch, striking harder than he had before. You reciprocated that.

As the two of you sparred, his eyes narrowed, and Bucky's focus turned to seeing how far he could push you. His blows struck hard, one particular hit to your abdomen forced the air from your lungs, and you stepped back gasping.

He pushed forward, though, and despite the lack of air, you fended him off well. To anyone watching, it would seem like a friendly sparring match had turned malicious. However, both yours and Bucky's eyes were lit with delight at the fact that you'd found an equal opponent.

You finally decided to end the session with a swift attack to knock him to the ground and taking the opportunity to pin him, his arm twisted behind his back.

"I surrender." He chuckled. You released him quickly and offered a hand to help him up, which he took.

"Youre...tougher than I expected."

You tilted your head, "Did Tony not tell you?"

"Tell me what?" He asked.

"I'm also a weird military experiment. Except they aimed more for stealth than brute strength with me, still gave me that enhanced strength though." You explained as you used your towel to dab the sweat from your neck.

"You haven't been particularly stealthy."

You laughed, "Haven't been trying. Tell you what, turn off the light and see if you can find me in the dark."

Bucky's eyes scanned you curiously before walking over and flicking off the lights. When he turned back, he tried to peer through the darkness to find you. He even tried to listen for your breathing and heartbeat, but the room was dead silent.

It was unnerving as he stepped further into the room as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He slowly turned in a circle, hoping to spot you.

He thought he'd spotted you in a corner of the room until he felt a kick to the back of his knees, knocking him down. Suddenly, there was a hand gently resting around his throat and two fingertips pressed against his head in a mock figure of a gun.

"Surprise." You giggled and released him and went over to turn on the lights as Bucky stood up in a daze.

"How?" He demanded.

"My special serum gave me the ability to slow my heart and breath rate to the point where it's imperceptible, even to you. And I can move lightly so you can't even hear me walk. I can see in the dark, and all other senses are enhanced. Plus, the whole strength and pain tolerance thing. Literally, you just stealthy."

Bucky stared at you as you explained. He slowly realized you weren't really an equal. In fact, you were probably "better" than him in a sense. You had the ability to be completely imperceptible, even to him. You'd just proven you could have killed him easily, and he wouldn't have even seen it coming. It half scared him, and half had his heart racing with attraction.

"You ok?" You asked. He'd been staring at you silently for a good few seconds.

"I've just never met someone who could take me down like that."

"We're good though right?" Your expression had changed to one of nervousness.

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"Some men have a tendency to feel threatened or emasculated."

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

"Don't gotta worry about that here."

"Good." You smiled softly at him before it turned into a mischievous grin, "Wanna see who can squat the most weight?"

His mouth quirked up in a half smile as he followed you. The next two hours consisted of you challenging him to see who could handle more. Endurance wise, you did better. However, in terms of raw strength, he did better than you.

Bucky found himself feeling amused, you were so different from him and Steve. They had a tendency to be a bit more reserved. Quieter. But you were bubbly and all over the place, all smiles and energy. It was strange knowing that you'd come from the military.

After a while, the two of you headed upstairs to eat breakfast. By then, most of the others were already awake and were surprised to see Bucky willingly hanging out with you.

It was amusing in a sense. You were like a living ray of sunshine, and Bucky was like a living storm cloud. Polar opposites. However right about now Bucky didn't seem to be as "rainy" as he usually was. The look on his face was more relaxed, and he nodded attentively as you spoke. He was genuinely interested in whatever you were saying.

The second you excused yourself for a shower, the teasing began.

"Seems Bucky has taken an interest in our new teammate." Natasha said slyly.

Bucky shot her a glare and busied himself with a cup of coffee.

"Can you blame him? She's a cute little thing." Sam chuckled.

"I heard she's a great warrior. That makes her even more attractive." Thor said from his seat.

Bucky gritted his teeth and sat down on the couch by Steve with his cup of coffee. He didn't want to tell them exactly why he was so interested. He knew if he did they'd want to get involved and it would just ruin everything.

So for now, he'd deal with the teasing and hope it wouldn't be long until he found out if it was his name marked on your arm.

He stared down into his mug, ignoring the joking going on around him. He barely knew you, and yet he was practically praying that you were his soulmate. That the name he had on his arm was written in your writing. That the name on your arm was his written in his messy chicken scratch.

-------------------------------------------------

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[genericpuff]

The excessively passive voice when talking about Minthe being intended to have BPD is hilarious. "It was thought to have her written with BPD"? So weird

Honestly, once you start noticing this passive voice in how Rachel writes and talks, it's kind of hard to unsee.

Like, for starters, the BPD example. It's very non-committal, almost as if to sound like she never actually wrote her with BPD, it was just an 'idea' that she could neither confirm or deny as canon. But then you read the episode with the slap and-

It's- it's literally called "Splitting". It's about as subtle as a brick to the face. This entire episode showcases Minthe having an actual literal episode of splitting and it's plain as day to anyone who can read the title card and put two and two together. So for the wording to be so passive around her characterization... it wasn't "thought" to have her written with BPD, she was written with BPD.

Another example that sticks out in my mind of Rachel's passive writing is far later in Season 3, when Demeter reunites with Persephone and naturally expects her to come back home with her.

This line still fucking bothers me to this day. Besides the fact that it's just really poorly written dialogue, Persephone describes her being in love with Hades as if it's just some coincidental thing that happened to her that she can't avoid and not a deliberate choice she's making. "It would seem" my ass, Persephone is a coward for not being upfront and just talking to her mother like an adult by saying, "Mother, I love you, and I understand why you want me to come home, but I'm in love with Hades and want to stay in the Underworld with him." Instead the way it's worded is almost designed to absolve Persephone of any and all agency in her own decisions and active participation in her relationship with Hades by instead making it out to be just some circumstance that she can't get herself out of.

Again, this isn't quite as egregious as the aforementioned BPD scene, but it's still irritating because Rachel writes like this a lot throughout LO. And it's not just the dialogue either, entire decisions throughout the comic are flip-flopped and kept vague by Rachel so she can give herself plausible deniability over the narrative. I could come up with some of my own examples, but I think she managed to speak for herself just fine in the end-of-series Q&A that left both critics and fans of the series massively confused and disappointed:

LO is full of half-committed plotlines because Rachel herself can't commit to her own decisions. So the decisions she does make are left vague enough that hardcore fans are willing enough to fill in the blanks themselves, but anyone who asks her genuinely what her plan was, she just gives the same wordy "IDK it's up to your interpretation!" response. It's like she thinks people are asking her as just another reader who can only speculate, but she's literally the author, so why is she acting like her guess is as good as theirs?

Well, because that's how she wrote LO. That's how she's always written comics, with vague half-finished thoughts and just enough for readers to do the mental gymnastics of making sense of it all just to give her the credit for "smart writing" that she never actually did because she stopped paying attention after the first sentence. And that method of being vague for the sake of audience interpretation is fine for illustrations or anything that isn't trying to be a concise narrative, but LO did try to be that and it really shows how hard it failed in doing so when its own creator can't even come up with something slightly plausible to explain all the questions people had in the end. "There is some backstory there" but proceeds to not actually expand on said backstory. "I like to imply things without outright telling people", so do I, but the difference is that Rachel is using that as a crutch to not answer the questions she setup for her readers and then didn't resolve after five years. There's not wanting to spoon feed people the plot, and then there's literally refusing to explain your decisions when writing said plot, almost because you don't know any more than they do.

The entirety of LO is rooted in Rachel's passiveness, from her inability to answer questions concisely to every little plot point that was established and dropped throughout the comic's run. Writing a story is a series of decisions, deciding what to keep, deciding what not to keep, deciding what has to be changed, etc. and Rachel just... doesn't seem like someone who's ever been capable of making those decisions, especially when she's writing an actual long form story to the end and doesn't have the luxury of dropping it whenever it feels convenient for her like she did several times with The Doctor Pepper Show. Once she was actually held to a standard, once she was actually signed into a contract that expected her to make those decisions, she failed to and it culminated in one of the messiest conclusions to a story I've seen since Game of Thrones.

LO is kind of like Schrodinger's Cat - a plot point can be or not be whatever it needs to be so that Rachel can be either praised for smart writing she never did or absolved of bad writing that she did do. It's equally parts interesting and vague enough that whatever her readers give her credit for writing, she can give them a thumbs-up and go "you're totally right, champ!" and proceed to take all the credit of being a "good writer" from the efforts of her own audience who had to jump through a million hoops to make sense of her own messy writing.

But when she's put on the spot by those very same readers to answer for her own decisions, she can't.

Because she never made them.

Because there was never anything "deeper" going on, that's just what her style of "distraction writing" made you believe. The plot never lets you stop to think about what you just read long enough before zipping away to the next thing and distracting you with a new twist or a new character or a new plot point, and before you know it, you've gone weeks without reading about the last thing that was established you probably haven't even realized that those questions never got answered. Sometimes Rachel remembers to get back to those things and resolves them within a handful of panels, other times she forgets them entirely and just leaves them to rot in the hopes that no one ever calls her out on it. And when they do... she can just pull the get-out-of-jail-free "Welp, it's up to your interpretation!" card and get that credit all over again for being deep and insightful, meanwhile those who are rightfully dissatisfied with that answer are blanket-accused of "getting mad at Rachel for not writing the story they wanted".

To close out this ask that, per tradition, turned into an essay, I'd like to recall the famous words of fictional detective Benoit Blanc: "Look into the clear center of this glass onion... Miles Bron is an idiot!"

[pigeonpeach]

Cuddles for my Love!

Summary: You are turned into a cat and desperately try to get your lover to notice and help.

Characters included: Diluc, Jean, Itto, Neuvillete

No cw just silly cat times

In a puff of smoke you looked down at your hands finding no more than paws. You were alarmed to say the least! A potion you had ordered, intended to help with some back pain, had instead turned you into a kitty cat! A very cute one yes but still! At least your back doesn’t hurt. But you must inform your lover and request help!

Diluc

“Hm a cat?” Diluc seemed confused as he opened the door to his office to be greeted with a meowing cat. He didn’t recognize it. “Adelinde did suggest getting cats to prevent mice.. or maybe you’re one of the maid’s cats?” He questions as you meow demandingly. You paw at his leg.

“Oh you must be hungry. There aren’t much mice here anyways. I’ll get you something little one.” He knelt down to scratch your ears. Oooh that felt good no! You must focus!

“Oh? Is something wrong little one?” He asked as you meowed excessively. “You must be very hungry.” Quickly he left to go to the kitchen making you follow him while meowing. You realized you had no chance of communicating with him so you decided to try a different way. You spotted a photo of you and Diluc and hopped onto the vanity, you grasped the photo in your kitty mouth and hopped back down. You trotted over to Diluc who was examining some fish Adelinde had been preparing, sneakily carving some off. Your meow was muffled as you lay the picture in front. Then scratch at his leg. He looks down.

“Oh now why would you do that?” He said a bit disappointed. “That’s my favorite photo.” He pouted as you meowed trying to somehow communicate to him your struggles.

“Oh.. did they send you? I got it, you must have been a gift for our anniversary tomorrow. I guess you broke out of your hiding spot.” He smiled. You however were now more annoyed but also concerned because you almost forgot your anniversary was tomorrow. You meowed more but to no avail. He just patted you.

“Such a beautiful cat, you look a bit like them oddly enough. Your eyes are… a similar color?” He seemed to finally take notice. You meowed encouragingly. You batter the photo and tried to point to yourself.

“Hmm… you seem oddly intelligent for a simple cat… if you can understand me then.. spin clockwise.” He said curiously. You did so excited to finally have established communication! You’re closer to telling him!

“Oh! You can? What kind of cat are you then? Um… if you know where my beloved is then roll over.” He instructed. You did so. He seemed intrigued. “Huh. Well then lead me to them.” You quickly trotted over to a mirror as a idea came to you. You batted at your reflection as you looked back up at him. He seemed skeptical but confused. He knelt down to observe you as you bumped your face into his, giving him a kitty kiss. He seemed to understand then.

“Oh.. I’ll bring you to Lisa then, She should know what do from here.”

Jean

You were so miserable, the maids in your shared home simply considered you a cute and needy cat. Saying how pleased Jean would be to have a friendly cat. You had one choice: escape and find Jean. Or Lisa. albedo? Just find Jean first! You know where she is, her office as always. You spotted a window and crawled out onto the roof. You noticed how far up you were as you felt a bit scared. You knew cats could make long jumps.. but you were so sca-

“Kitty!” A excited voice exclaimed. You heard someone landing behind you as you turned to see Amber putting away her wind glider. “Ohhh you must be lost! I’ll take you to the knights, we’ll find your owner don’t worry!” She said. Great! You can hitch a ride on her and get right to Jean

Unfortunately Amber didn’t let you leave the designated library spot. With the diligent maid Noelle watching over to make surd you didn’t run off. You tried to plead with her to let you go, you were so close to Jean! You needed to see her! Worse of all Lisa wasn’t here!

“Oh you must be hungry. Unfortunately I don’t have any snacks on me.” Noelle cooed trying to calm you. You meowed in distress trying to make it to the library door. “No no no you must stay here! Your owner will be coming shortly. Don’t worry you’re safe.”

You begrudgingly sat as you tried to wait for her to not be looking. Meanwhile she stroked your back, it felt really nice though. You relaxed a little. Overtime she started to read the rule books diligently. You tested out her focus by getting up to stretch. She didn’t seem to acknowledge it. You then took a step away, before sprinting at full speed to the door. Immediately Noelle shot up to follow.

“Wait! Did I startle you! I didn’t mean to I’m sorry!” She said worriedly. You looked back to her realizing you couldn’t open the door. You gave her your cutest pleading face. She pondered. “Hmm.. maybe you know where your home is? Is that it?” She asked. You nodded to her surprise. She opened the door as you quickly walked over to jean’s office. She seemed hesitant. “Oh no we can’t disturb her! She’s always busy at work!” She whispered panicked. You let out s loud meow as you scratched at the door. She quickly pulled you away, then the door opened as Jean stood there. Immediately you squirmed away from Noelle to Jean.

“There she is.” You heard the familiar voicd of Lisa behind her. Jean seemed relieved to see you as Noelle seemed worried.

“Don’t worry Noelle you didn’t do anything wrong. Thank you for watching over them. I’ll handle it from here.” She said quickly bringing you into her office. Lisa seemed to be preparing a potion.

“Yes dear, unfortunately I used the wrong ingredient for your potion, but I hope you had some fun as a kitty.” Lisa said patting your head. Jean seemed a bit upset though.

“I’ve been looking for you. Lisa informed me of her mistake but by then you had already ran away.” She held you put letting you dangle. You meowed defensively making her smile. “Its fine now though, you’re here.” She gave you a kiss making you shut up.

She sat you on her desk as Lisa continued brewing the remedy. You immediately used this opportunity to cuddle with your wife who seemed pleased now.

“Next time don’t give the maids such trouble. You had me so worried.”

“Next time? Are you implying you would rather this happen again?” Lisa playfully added.

“No that’s not what I meant.. just I’m glad you’re safe.” She said brushing you lovingly. You meowed in reply, purring contentedly.

Arataki Itto

“HEY GUYS LOOK AT THIS CAT!” Itto proudly displayed you, now a cat like a trophy to his buds. You meowed in annoyance.

“A cat? Where did you get that?” Kuki questioned.

“I don’t know it just walked over to me meowing constantly. I figured the fella must like me!” He said. “Oh you know what? My beautiful partner would love this cat! Do you know where they went Kuki?” He said. She looked at you as you continued meowing.

“I have a idea…” she says. “Hand me the cat.” She said

“Huh? No way its MY kitty! It chose me! See its meowing because its happy!” He says while you meow trying to tell him to listen to Kuki. Unfortunately he doesn’t speak cat.

“You’re holding it wrong, here.” She grabbed you from his arms, holding you properly.

“Hey!” He whined. You meowed again to which she shushed you.

“You idiot, this isn’t a normal cat. Your partner got transformed!” She said annoyed as she examined you.

“Hah?” He said confused.

“I’ll take you to the shrine and have you fixed don’t worry.” She said.

“Huh? I didn’t know they offered neutering at the Grand Narukami Shrine?” You meowed in annoyance. At least Shinobu knew what she was doing.

Neuvillete

“Such a peculiar feline.” He remarked as you rubbed against him. He seemed to analyze you carefully. “Hmm… it appears you’ve been transformed.” He says, you’re surprised he understood so quickly, but you suppose he is used to these things more. He is a dragon after all.

“Sedene?” He called out. The melusine came trotting in as she looked at you confused.

“Oh? What has happened to your beloved? Why they like this?” She asked.

“I’m not sure, but please request the mage Emilie to come here as soon as possible. I’m sure she’d be able to undo this.” He says, gently stroking your fur to help you relax.

“On it. But… I’m not sure where she is. I’ll find out.” She says. “Oh and heres your water, special from Mondstadt’s springs!” She says bringing out a bottle. He smiles.

“Thank you Sedene.” He says as she quickly heads off. He turns to you, scratching your chin.

“I’m sorry dear but I don’t have experience in undoing these kinds of spells. But I assure you I understand your struggle. I ask you simply relax now. There’s nothing you can do right now so just relax. I’ll handle everything.” He said sweetly. You let out meow in agreement, making yourself comfortable on the paper on his desk. He chuckled.

“Sweetheart I need that.” He said trying to pull it out. You didn’t budge, you didn’t know why but this paper was really comfortable. “Dear, I know you can still understand me, please just stand up.” He sighed. Eventually giving up.

“Are you hungry my dear? I don’t think I could bring you your usual foods but I could request some tasty fish.” He said. You meowed to confirm it. You were quite hungry. strangely fish sounded good right now. He smiled as he called for his assistant once more.

The second your fish came you stood to receive it. Neuvillete seizing the opportunity to rearrange your makeshift bed, taking the important documents and replacing them with some unnecessary ones. You happily chowed down. Purring as you enjoyed some tasty fish. You looked back briefly to watch him pretend he did nothing, but you heard him. Still the fish was too tasty and you continued to eat. He pet you lovingly as he continued with his work. Once finished you immediately set your sights on once again taking up his attention, you jumped back onto the desk sitting yourself right on the paper he was working on. He sighed.

“You’re as needy as ever, but I can’t resist that cute little face.” He said giving you a nice chin scratch. “Hopefully Emilie can come soon, otherwise I may never get work done.”

[blackenedsnow]

I had a fluffy request idea I hope you like.

Arthur helps a child's dream come true by making a pair of saddlebags with a big enough pouch for the child to ride in. He and the child test it out by going for a horse ride.

a ride to remember

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Arthur Morgan & Child! Reader

NOTE: I absolutely love this request! I hope you enjoy this just as much as I enjoyed writing!

SUMMARY: Arthur takes it upon himself to make your dream come true by crafting a custom set of saddlebags with a special pouch just big enough for you to ride in.

Arthur leaned back on a log, wiping the sweat from his brow as he eyed his handiwork with pride. Before him sat the finished product—custom-made saddlebags that had taken him days of trial and error to craft. The special thing about them wasn’t the usual storage pouches for supplies; no, this time, one of the pouches had been designed to be large and cushioned enough to hold something, or rather, someone—you.

It all started a week ago when you’d nervously approached him, tugging at his sleeve and looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. You’d been fascinated with horses ever since Arthur had first taken you along on a short ride, but being too small to ride on your own had left you disappointed. The request you’d made had been simple yet almost heartbreaking: “Arthur… do you think there’s a way you could make a saddlebag I can sit in? I wanna ride like you do.”

Arthur had been caught off guard at first, staring down at you with those big eyes of yours. The thought of someone trusting him enough to fulfill such an innocent dream warmed him in a way he didn’t expect. After all, he wasn’t used to being the kind of man who made dreams come true, but something about you made him want to try.

And now, here he was, days later, standing next to his horse with the specially-made saddlebag ready to go. Arthur glanced over at you, standing nearby, practically bouncing on your toes in excitement.

“Ready to test ‘em out, kiddo?” he asked with a grin, patting the horse’s flank.

Your face lit up like a lantern as you nodded eagerly. “Really? You’re really gonna let me ride today?!”

Arthur chuckled, reaching down to lift you up. “Course I am. Can’t let all that hard work go to waste, can I?” He settled you carefully into the cushioned pouch, making sure you were snug and comfortable. The leather had been softened just enough so it wouldn’t be rough against your skin, and there was even a small blanket tucked inside for extra comfort.

He gave the saddlebag a gentle shake. “How’s that feel? You good?”

You wiggled a bit, grinning ear to ear. “It’s perfect! It’s like a little nest!”

Arthur’s smile softened as he watched you, seeing just how happy you were. There was something about the innocence in your joy that made him feel a sense of pride he didn’t often get to experience. He mounted the horse, steadying the reins before glancing back over his shoulder. “Alright, hold on tight, now. Let’s take ‘er slow to start.”

With a soft click of his tongue, Arthur set the horse into a gentle trot, the familiar rhythm of hooves against dirt filling the air. The open plains stretched out ahead of you both, and you leaned out of the saddlebag, arms resting on the edge as you marveled at the world around you. Everything felt so much bigger up here, so full of life and adventure. You couldn’t help but giggle, the wind brushing through your hair.

“This is amazing, Arthur!” you called out, your laughter contagious.

Arthur glanced back with a grin. “Told ya it’d be worth it, didn’t I?”

The two of you rode through the hills, the sun dipping low in the sky, casting everything in a warm, golden light. Arthur made sure to keep the pace easy, letting you get the full experience of riding without ever pushing the horse too hard. Occasionally, he’d point out landmarks, telling stories of old trails and the folks he’d met along the way.

“And over there,” he said, gesturing to a distant patch of trees, “that’s where I once ran into a bear. Big fella, too. Almost had me for dinner, but I wasn’t about to let that happen.”

You gasped, eyes wide with awe. “You fought a bear?!”

Arthur chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t say fought—more like I ran real fast the other way. That’s the smarter thing to do sometimes.”

As the day stretched on, the horse ride became more than just an adventure. It was a bonding moment, a memory you’d both hold onto for years. You felt safe up there, tucked into your saddlebag, with Arthur’s presence right in front of you. He’d occasionally glance back, making sure you were still enjoying yourself, and every time, he’d see your bright smile, and that was enough to make all the effort worth it.

When the sun finally began to set, casting long shadows across the plains, Arthur slowed the horse to a stop by a small creek. He dismounted first, then gently lifted you out of the saddlebag, setting you down on the soft grass.

“So, how was it?” he asked, kneeling to your height as he looked you in the eye.

You didn’t even hesitate, throwing your arms around him in a big hug. “It was the best day ever!”

Arthur’s breath caught for a moment, surprised by the sudden embrace, but he soon softened, wrapping his arms around you in return. “I’m glad, kiddo. Real glad.”

As you pulled away, your eyes sparkled with excitement, already talking about the next ride, the next adventure. Arthur just smiled, standing up and ruffling your hair. “You just let me know when you’re ready. We’ll go again.”

The evening sky was painted with hues of orange and pink as the two of you headed back to camp, your little dream now fulfilled, thanks to the kindness of a man who’d come to care for you like family. Arthur glanced down at you once more, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

“Glad I could make that dream come true,” he muttered under his breath, though there was no doubt—you heard every word.

[nilsavatar]

DAY 31 - A/B/O

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!Avatar

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, ANGST, SMUT in the end, love bites, rubbing, sexual tension, olfactophilia (they both turn on by smelling arousal/pheromones), P in V, manhandling, oral (f receiving), face fucking, fingering, praising, cursing, pet name (ma’uniltı`ranyu - my dreamwalker), rough, knotting, dirty talk, overstimulation, edging, strangers to lovers, first time (first heat, loss of avatar body virginity), begging, difference in power (alpha-omega dynamics), soft-dom Neteyam (mention of marking, possessive behavior but he’s kind and caring), Jamie Flatters cameo. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Living in the body of an avatar is not as simple as one might think.

Little note: OMG! You have no idea how happy I am to have finally finished this fic. It has been on hiatus for so many months that I thought I would never publish it. The more time passed, the more the pressure to write something worth the long wait increased. I rewrote it so many times, but it never seemed good enough, and the editing was exhausting. I hope with all my heart not to disappoint your expectations. Please be forgiving: this is my first Omegaverse. Thank you🥰

If you would like to be tagged in future fics, please write it in the comments. I will be happy to add you all💕

Word Count: 7,6k

Masterlist - Request a fic

Aubree’s knowledge as a xenobiologist fell short in front of the challenges of living as a dreamwalker among the Na’vi.

The presence of a secondary sex was fascinating, fictional in the eyes of a human being, accustomed to a binary system. But on Pandora, things were way different. The natives displayed their primary sex (male or female) from birth, and their roles in the clan were influenced by signs that emerged during puberty. Alphas, predominantly men, possessed a massive physiognomy. Tall, muscular, strong-willed, controlled in character, yet predisposed to irascibility. Betas were the largest group, with an equal proportion of females and males, and the most human-like. Omegas, mostly women, were known for their petite and delicate build, along with a calming demeanor.

When she arrived on Pandora, she had no particular expectations of what her avatar’s designation would be. Still, no one would ever have considered a potential alpha looking at her features. Aubree was a spitfire who was unlikely to be pushed around and knew her stuff in professional terms. Someone who won’t let you get away with nothing. However, her dainty physique and conflict-avoiding tendency were clear indications she would be an omega (or beta at best). The moment she connected with the hybrid, clarity rained down on her like a burst of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Her own body erupted in a chorus of sensations, each one clamoring for attention. It was as if every nerve ending had awoken from a deep sleep, demanding to be felt. The omega within seemed to mold itself to her presence, wrapping around her with the natural warmth of a long-lost sibling's affection. Its voice, like a lullaby, soothed tenderly in her ears, caressed her senses, evoking a bittersweet nostalgia. It had waited for her for a lifetime, patiently biding, though she felt as if it had always been there; their destinies entwined for eternity. The connection felt familiar as if it had always been an integral part of her existence, hidden deep within her soul, longing to be seen. A joyous reunion with her inner essence, theirs, rather than a discovery of something new about herself. As her eyes fluttered open, the blinding white light of the hospital room assaulted her vision, her first instinct was to cry. Overwhelmed by the pent-up emotions that had been building within her.

Yet another factor played a role — a negative note. The recognition wasn’t exclusive to her; everyone around her, from the very moment she had awoken as an avatar, had sensed, smelled what she was. And this made it obvious why omegas often experienced such a designation as a condemnation.

Alphas’ attentions may be... excessive.

From a human perspective, Na’vi were naturally intrusive. The concept of personal space between the two species was totally at odds; they were prone to be close, to touch each other, to smell each other. A fundamental part of their socialization techniques. Aubree could have learned to tolerate it as a cultural trait if her alpha-designated colleagues didn’t engage in the same behaviors. They couldn’t help themselves.

“It’s the pheromones,” said matter-of-fact Max, not having any other scientific explanation. Studies on the subject were stalled. Without a vomeronasal organ connected to the brain, or terrestrial examples to refer to, they couldn’t describe the phenomenon. The only thing palpable to both of them, equally inexplicable, was that her wake was inviting. Alphas were almost reduced to a primal state around her. “You should talk to the Tsahìk about this,” Aubree mentally berated herself for not thinking of it sooner. Who better than the Tsahìk, the spiritual leader of the clan and the highest authority among healers, to provide her with the answers she sought? And maybe even help in dealing with the symptoms.

*

The healers’ tent wasn’t large. Quite the opposite, it was indeed small. The room appeared even tinier with the disorganized heap of things stacked on top of each other in a jumbled mess, creating the feeling it could burst at any time. An imminent threat to be fair. However, under scrutiny, one could discern an order in the distribution of the items. To her right, tools of various types and sizes covered the entire wall. To the left, on shelves arranged by color, were terracotta jars filled with powders and ointments. Some were large, others tiny; some had regular shapes, others were bizarre, tongued, or angular. Engraved on the bottom of each were symbols. An early form of writing, considering the People were still oral.

A little further down, the counter ran around the entire interior of the room to the nearest post of mattresses where sicks could rest. Behind the cupboard was the massiest shelf of all. Ampoules, mirrors, rolls of cloth, baskets of bandages, needles, and flowers stuffed somehow. That place was a unique contradiction, ranging from manic order to disturbing chaos. Despite the dimness and the oppressive atmosphere, the tent also emitted a serene, welcoming feeling, akin to the mystical aura of a shaman’s lair.

But one not was out of place. Post-its here and there written in… English? What were post-its doing in the Tsahìk tent? They were so out of context.

“I see the human touch doesn’t go unnoticed.” Aubree gasped, more at the dull sound of something heavy being moved across the counter than the surprise itself. A woman emerged from the myriad of baskets scattered across the floor, placed one on the wooden shelf, and emptied its contents. Her hair, just above her chin, was straight but messy. The tswin, displayed in front of her chest, obscured the huge needle that hung from her slender neck. At every movement, the beads of the intricate shawl that covered her shoulders and breasts jingled, as lively as a child’s laughter. A streaked cerulean complexion set off lemon-yellow irises fixed upon her like those of a cat.

How old was she? Her face appeared youthful, almost adolescent, yet her eyes betrayed wisdom and worldliness far beyond her years.

“You must be Aubree. I was waiting for you to show up.” It seemed as if the healer’s pupils flickered at the sound of her name. The avatar stepped forward. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite, Tsahìk of the Omatikaya.” Acting on impulse, she extended her hand, but when the young woman didn’t shake it, she hastily corrected the gesture into the typical bow of greeting and reverence. She looked amused.

“No need for formality here. We are the same age and are both researchers. We have more in common than you might think.” A smirk curved her plump lips as she put her fists on her sides. “To what do I owe the glee of your visit? I suppose you need to ask me something.” Her sudden remark made her jolt. The Na’vi woman stopped arranging the shelves and turned to look at her with anticipation. “Well?” “I wouldn’t know where to even start. It’s something I don’t fully understand,” she confessed. “Is it related to your dreamwalker body?” She nodded. “But humans cannot help you.” It wasn’t a question, but the scientist nodded anyway. Kiri drew a smile and disappeared behind a curtain that separated the room from the next one — a laboratory. After several minutes, she reappeared with a small box full of tea filters. “Have one in the morning and another in the evening. It’s a suppressant; it will quell your pheromones.”

Aubree blushed furiously. How…?

“I might be just a beta, but your wake is so strong that it knocked me out for a sec. I dare not imagine the effect you have on alphas.” “Not pleasant.” “Much too pleasant, you mean,” she chuckled. “Be careful not to abuse the drug. You wouldn’t want to find out about the side effects. And remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during estrus.”

Estrus.

The idea hadn’t crossed her mind at all when she accepted her Ph.D. and joined the AVTR Program. She was so thrilled to pursue her dream she would have accepted any job proposal. And who was she to deny she had always felt a fascination about natives? Na’vi estrus cycle was highly articulated and varied by secondary sex designation. Beta females, like humans, had a menstrual cycle and were potentially always fertile, exhibiting no visual, behavioral, or olfactory signals announcing impending ovulation.

Quite a different story for omegas and alphas.

The former went into heat three times a year, about four months between cycles, and could last up to seven agonizing days in the absence of a partner to care for them. This was their peak fertility period. The latter rutted once a year, and the length of the inter-anestrus was unpredictable. In mated pairs wasn’t uncommon for one’s heat to trigger the other’s.

“What should I do when it happens?” “Well, the most natural advice would be to spend it with a playmate, preferably an alpha, as theirs are the only pheromones that have a calming effect on omegas. There is no risk of conception for those who are not mated, so as long as your kuru’s are not entwined, let go.” “Mm, alternatives?” “Lock yourself in a shelter until it ends, away from everyone. But that is the least desirable option. It’s terribly painful to face heat alone.” “I could stay disconnected as long as my avatar is in this state.” “Risking dying of dehydration and starvation in the meantime? Or worse, that some alpha will have fun at your expense?” Kiri hastened to say, noticing the scientist’s horrified expression. “Yes, it has happened, and I assure you that the physical memory of the trauma remains, even if consciousness was not present.” “But I’ll still have to log out myself. My human body needs care, too.” “All the more reason you should find someone to look after you, and quickly. Your first heat is approaching.”

As if that were a small thing.

“My intuition tells me you’ll be fine. Now go. And drink your infusion.” She was about to leave the tent when one last question left Aubree’s lips: “How will I know I’m in heat?” “Oh, trust me, you’ll know.”

She was so absorbed in Kiri’s words that she didn’t even notice the hungry glances she was catalyzing. Especially that of a distinguished man wearing a feathered cloak. The young Olo’eyktan followed her figure as she made her way back to the human outpost until she was swallowed up by the thick undergrowth.

“She doesn’t have a mate if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice to his left exclaimed. As he turned, he came face to face with the Tsahìk, whose penetrating stare revealed a cunning expression that hinted at a deeper understanding. “I don’t see why this indiscretion of yours should interest me.” “Mm, I don’t know. Seems like she caught your interest.” “Hard to ignore with the trail she carries.” A corner of Kiri’s mouth twitched: Neteyam had just been trapped in the net. “She’s not the first omega with such a scent passing under your nose, but you’ve barely noticed the others.” The young man’s back straightened. “What's your point?” “I’m just surprised. That’s all.”

Neteyam’s gaze was again lost in scanning the spot where the avatar had vanished, lost in a thousand thoughts. Unaware of the bright, wide smile that now graced his sister’s beautiful face. The satisfied smirk of one who sees three moves ahead.

*

Upon entering the research division’s canteen, some may have felt as if they stepped into Goldilocks’ fairy tale. Everything in there was big, big or small, small, except for the stove and tables, which were set at an intermediate height so that both avatars and pilots could use them.

Aubree stared at the teapot brewing the concoction Kiri had given her; her nose stung by the pungent yet fresh smell of nettle wafting from the spout. Carefully, she poured the liquid into a cup without straining — Ingest the leaves — and drank it. Immediately, her throat burned and a tremendous itch seemed to want to tear it open.

Shit, even worse than anticipated.

She took a seat on the plush sofa, its velvety fabric enveloping her frame. As she pressed play on the remote, the screen flickered to life, casting a soft glow on the dimply lit room. Her eyes followed the vivid images of a movie for distraction, but her mind was eaten up by the searing prickle that intensified with each passing moment. The discomfort became all-consuming, shielding her from the outside world, as if the itchy sensations had woven a barrier around her, isolating the woman in her own thoughts. She was oblivious to her colleague’s presence until he sank into the cushions beside her. His arm hung weakly on the backrest, almost brushing against her shoulder. But it was his sudden loud snort that jolted her back to reality. Aubree jumped as she turned to her right and found Jamie. His left knee wedged into his opposite ankle, his foot dangling in her direction. His head rested an inch from the wall, eyes half-closed in a drowsy state.

“You look tired.”

The guy let out a low, rumbling laugh in his typical mumble before replying that he felt like a bulldozer had run over him. Fatigue weighed heavily on him, evident in the strain it put on his distinct British accent. She surreptitiously watched him, taking in the details of his avatar that closely resembled the human it was created from. His gaze remained the same, although his blue irises had now turned a striking shade of yellow. His lips and teeth mirrored the original, except for the canines. When he smiled full-mouthed, two dimples appeared on his cheeks, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners, as if they were smiling, too. His slightly protruding incisors gave his face a boyish charm, contrasting with his strong, masculine features. He radiated a sense of gentleness.

That last remark had the same effect as lightning illuminating the night. They were conversing freely, as they would have if they were humans.

An alpha and an omega.

Aubree had gotten into the habit of avoiding alphas as much as possible when she was in this body; head down, shy look, walk fast. Never within nose reach. But Jamie did not lose his cool in her presence. He didn’t sniff the air greedily. His gaze didn’t become insistent as it passed over her face. He didn’t moisten his lips endlessly or clench his jaw and fists as if to keep himself from jumping on her. Nor did hold his breath and make excuses, running for his life as he was wont to do.

The suppressor was working!

The success of the next days was enough for the unknown estrus to recede into the background, in the darkest and most hidden place in her head. Who could blame her? Her life was finally back to normal. After all, her avatar's first heat couldn't have been so terrible, could it? Just stick to this simple recipe and everything will be fine, repeated as a mantra.

Remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during the heat.

Time passed, and days turned into weeks. The taste of the medicine became more tolerable as her throat grew accustomed to its piquant flavor. Even if it wasn’t, the end justified the means. Aubree took the doses with obsessive precision, but after a few months, she noticed the effects wearing off, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it began.  The first warning came in the form of mild dizziness when she logged in, accompanied by a lingering feeling of fever. Then, her appetite waned, alternating with sudden bouts of hunger. Finally, twinges settled in her iliac fossae. She chalked it as harmless PMS, nothing she hadn’t already experienced. Most importantly, not a cause for alarm regarding her host’s performance or health; the hybrid was fully functional.

Wait a minute. Premenstrual syndrome?

As she walked down the hallway leading to the medical area, her mind wandered back to her last period. Her forefinger swiftly navigated the tablet, selecting the calendar app she used to track her menstrual cycle. She was still a long way from the start of the next one, a full two weeks, right in the middle of her fertility window. Maybe I’m ovulating. The symptoms she had been going through lately aligned with that assumption. Breast sensitivity, a slight increase in discharge, heightened lubrication, and libido.

This would have been enough to reassure her, if not for the steady, soft beeping coming from the hospital room, serving as a haunting reminder. Her stare roamed beyond the glass, taking in the circle of Link Units surrounding a pair of desks in the center, a total of eight. It settled on the last station on the far left. Number 3. Her lucky number. Well, not so lucky, given how things were going. The monitor next to it showed the status of the machine, the vitals of the subject inside, the neural activity of the two interconnected brains. The real-time image of the pilot's unconscious face.

Aubree’s face.

And so she realized the symptoms were none other than the avatar's. Ovulation, PMS, cravings were all alarm bells that the heat was near. But who gave her the coup de grâce was Jamie himself.

The guy was running towards her, calling out and weaving, eager for something he was about to share if he didn’t put the brakes on his run. With his palm up to cover his mouth and nose, he said, “Woah Bree... You stink.” His pupils showed a hint of dilation. “It’s time, isn’t it? The suppressant isn’t working anymore.” “Guess so.” “Um, I don’t wanna freak you out or anything, but...” He scratched nervously at the back of his head, no longer holding her gaze. “... if you ever need help dealing with… that. I mean, if I were in your shoes, I’d prefer a friend taking care of me over some random dude. So...” “Thanks, Jamie, for the offer. I know it’s from a genuine interest, and that you’re not trying to take advantage of the situation. I appreciate it, but maybe the Tsahìk can help me out while I’m in the shelter.” “It could last for days.” “I still haven’t come to terms that intercourses are the only way. She's possibly making it sound worse than it actually is.” “Possibly not. Thinking you’ll be locked up somewhere suffering...” "I'll log out for the night," Aubree giggled. “Besides, it would be kinda weird, don’t you think? We work together.” Now he couldn’t help but laugh. “I do science. Stuff like that won't faze me. You better hurry, based on the scent you're giving off, you could be in heat any minute. If you change your mind...” With a last playful wink, Jamie left.

Free to return to her concerns, Aubree’s smile turned into a taut line. She had to find Kiri. Quickly.

*

As she battled the relentless fever, the seemingly endless and overwhelming path to Hometree stretched out before her. Every step was a struggle, her trembling hands clutching onto the rough tree trunks for support. Fatigue weighed heavily upon her, her eyes squinting against the blinding rays of the sun as it dipped below the horizon. The intense heat made her perspire profusely, the dampness seeping through her clothes, clinging to her body like a second skin. She wished she could strip off her garments; the discomfort unbearable. The thought of dying of shame seemed trivial compared to the fire that consumed her from within, leaving her skin burning and blistering. 

Sounds of prolemuris filled the air, their calls echoing through the dense canopy. The heavy, rich, damp bouquet of lush vegetation mingled with the freshness of rain and whiffs of her scent, alerting a hunter nearby to her presence. His senses heightened. With narrowed eyes, he tasted the air, as if savoring a fine wine. The particles rose into his nostrils, painting a vivid image of Aubree in his mind. Her sweet face, adorned with sparkling eyes, and sinuous curves stood out against the dry features of the People. 

As he continued to track her trail, his pupils dilated, his senses enticed by the lingering aroma. Every step he took, he could feel the dampness of the forest floor beneath his feet, the rough texture of the leaves brushing against his fingertips. The air was alive with anticipation, as if holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable. But as quickly as the scent had captivated him, the hunter’s instincts kicked in. He realized that if he could smell her, others could too. The realization sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder of the dangers that lurked in the rainforest. With a determined resolve, he pressed on, his senses alert, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

He left his prey to almost run the distance that separated him from the woman. His omega. The moments it took him to reach her seemed like hours when they were a handful of minutes at most. He found her at the foot of a plant, curled up in a ball, her cheeks stained with tears as she whispered incomprehensible words under her breath. The man staggered, his senses assaulted by the unmistakable pungent smell of her heat stench. A wake so overpowering that left him breathless and struck, unlike anything he had ever smelled before. Teeth gritted and jaw clenched to the breaking point, he bravely advanced towards her, finally falling to his knees. If only he had resisted his natural urges. He could not allow himself to give in. Not him.

With a gentle touch, he cradled her jaw in his palm and soothed her with slow, reassuring strokes along her side, repeating, “It’s alright, it’s alright. You’re safe now. You're not alone; I'm here for you. You’re going to be okay.”  Her cry-streaked face trembled as she whispered, “Please... I can’t take it any longer,” cheeks dampened by an endless stream of tears. “Just take care of it.” He cursed in frustration, powerless that he couldn’t even bring her to his sister. Kiri was assisting a primipara in childbirth. “Please!”  Before taking her in his arms and laying her gently against his chest, the Na’vi sighed, his voice filled with resignation, “Yes, whatever you need.”

Walking backward towards the nearest shelter, he kept his gaze fixed on the path, his piercing eyes fully focused on his surroundings, scanning for any signs of danger. The very direction he had originally come from. Not that anyone could have stood up to him under those circumstances. Regardless of whether he had reached the woman first, no one would have been foolish enough to challenge the clan’s top warrior. 

Groaning, Aubree nuzzled against him, finding solace in the familiar and calming scent that emanated from his skin. Like lowered into a light, peaceful bubble, his soothing alpha pheromones everywhere. An alpha she couldn’t recognize, her vision too blurry, but to whom the omega inside her was singing a serenade. In this foggy confusion, she could only hear the beating of his heart against her ear and the oh-so-big, firm hands holding her up. And though she could not see him, starry eyes appeared in her mind’s eye, looking tenderly at her. 

Her fantasy drifted away, picturing him holding her close, his lips exploring every inch of her body, and their lovemaking leaving her in a state of euphoric surrender. A shiver ran down her spine and made her throbbing quicken at the mere thought of being touched where the tremendous burn concentrated the most. The brush of his lips on her forehead and the tip of her nose made her believe, if only for an instant, that reality had merged with her imagination. His voice lingered in the air, like a gentle gust against her mouth, hinting that they were just moments away from their destination.

Where, she would have inquired, but there wasn’t much room for consistency in her head right now, her perceptions too chaotic to form a coherent question. She would have gone to the ends of the Universe, as long as it meant she could be near him.

Next to her, on her, inside her. Her heart raced with anticipation.

As the hunter laid her down on the mattress and went to fetch water, it was no surprise that her expression crinkled, her eyelids opened slightly, and a low moan eluded her parched lips.

“You need to drink,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern, as he offered out a small bowl. The liquid inside shimmered, reflecting the soft glow of the room. However, she shook her head, causing the contents to spill onto the floor, the sound of the liquid splashing echoing through the silence. A flicker of frustration crossed his face, but it quickly melted away, replaced by a deep-seated worry as he watched her. Her arms opened towards him, inviting him into her embrace. He had never encountered such desperation and helplessness in an omega before. 

Calmly, he laid down beside her, pulling her gently towards him. As he hugged her, she could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. But it wasn’t enough. Aubree craved more, she needed more. And so he leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft and tender, like a delicate caress. When she bit into them, the taste exploded on her tongue, a blend of sweet honey and warm sunshine. The flavors danced and mingled, delighting her senses. Closing her eyes, she felt a rush of sparks and stars illuminating her mind. His tongue explored her mouth with a gentle touch, mirroring the soothing sensation of his hands as they massaged her tense shoulders.

She felt perfect, cocooned in the strength of his embrace. The soft glow of candlelight danced across their entwined bodies, casting a warm, intimate atmosphere. The warmth of his arms, his faint scent mingled with her own, enveloped her, creating a sweet, comforting haven from the outside world. Yet, an intoxicating sensation filled the air as she nestled against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. A soothing melody that resonated deep within her. Every touch, every caress, sent waves of bliss coursing through her body. In this moment, she found solace and contentment, knowing that she had found her rightful place - in his loving arms.

She was exactly where she belonged, complete and fulfilled.

When he let go, she was panting, her lungs desperate for oxygen, her heart pounding in her chest. All she could see were his eyes, lost in darkness. Delighting in her exquisite taste, surpassing his wildest dreams, he pressed his lips against her face and kissed her deeply. The overwhelming passion seemed to consume her, suffocating her with its intensity. He gently moved away, giving her a chance to catch her breath, and as he did, he positioned himself on top of her, taking off the thin t-shirt she had on.

As much as he longed to press his skin against the avatar's, the Na’vi couldn’t help but be drawn to her curvaceous physique, a stark contrast to the ruggedness of his own kind. He took his sweet time to admire her; the naked breasts, the rounder hips, he could not resist stroking them with his fingertips. Aubree’s scent brainwashed him, a slave to the instinct to take her where she was, but in the back of his mind, there was still enough clarity to realize that he was truly amazed by the wonder of the woman before him. He liked her. He really liked her. He had liked her from the first moment he had noticed her, her trail so enchanting that it could not be ignored.

Once again, he yearned to taste her, to hold her. He placed his lips upon every reachable inch, leaving his mark with his intoxicating scent. He lavished attention on her face, caressed her eyes, nibbled on her ears, traced her collarbones, and claimed her neck, burying his nose in her skin, his tongue tenderly exploring the hidden depths behind her shoulder. It was a remarkably sensitive spot, causing her to surrender to pleasure, her corneas tilting backward in ecstasy. The surge of pheromones transformed into a primal growl, resonating deep within her core; uncontrollable shivers coursed through her body. He pressed harder against her hips, releasing a second wave that intensified their connection.

Aubree wrapped her limbs around him, squeezing him in a fervent embrace. The sound of their mingling breaths filled the air as their lips met once more, a symphony of desire. Overwhelmed by the sensation of his body against hers, she reveled in the way he effortlessly fit into the curves of her form. Each kiss and caress he bestowed upon her skin brought a cascade of relief that engulfed her senses.

Through the graceful dance of their bodies, she felt the weight of his longing against her. Every movement spoke volumes of his desire to please her, to alleviate her anguish. As his lips explored her skin, a low, guttural moan escaped her throat, resonating with a mixture of gratification and pain. In the air, a spice of raw passion intertwined with a hint of vulnerability. In his touch, she could sense the depth of his caring, his soulful dominance.

She realized how similar they were: two people subjected to their nature.

Equally desperate, her lungs aching, she reached a trembling hand towards his tail, fingers brushing against the coarse texture of the loincloth. The tightly cinched knot resisted her efforts, causing each tug to reverberate with a faint sound of strained fabric. The hunter, his muscles trembling with anticipation, propped himself up slightly, his breaths mingling with hers in the dimly lit room.

Time slowed to a torturous crawl as he painstakingly unraveled the knot, his fingers working with meticulous precision. The sensation of the fiber slipping through his grasp sent shivers down his spine, a mix of alleviation and frustration intertwining in his chest. The weight of the tewng around his ankles became a physical reminder of the barriers they both longed to shed. Almost on the verge of tears, he yearned for liberation from this confining cloth, craving the proximity and warmth they shared. With a swift motion, he freed himself from the bindings, the garment rustling quietly as it fell to the ground. In an instant, he pulled her back into his embrace, his arms blanketing her with a renewed fervor.

As their bodies tangled, a rush of emotions flooded their senses — the scent of their shared desire hung heavy in the air, mingling with the musky aroma of sweat. The touch of their skin, now unencumbered, ignited a fire that burned with an intensity they could no longer deny.

The scientist loved every moment; his piercing, smoldering gaze fixated on her, lolling in every tender touch, every flattering word, but she reached her limit, and he could sense it. Suddenly, the biting cold dusk shrouded her exposed form. Her garments were violently ripped away, leaving her vulnerable. The icy sensation lasted only a fraction of a second, though, for that was all the time it took for the stranger to plunge into her doused core. His intricate braids tickled against the satin-like skin of her inner thigh. The balmy breeze of his breath danced upon her as she rolled up her sticky legs around his head. “No need for that,” she giggled, her voice trembling. The sharp edges of his canines teased her, causing a playful tingle to spread across her lips. His smile showing both desire and mischief.

With exasperating slowness, he inhaled in a long sniff, his expounded pupils pulsating as they reopened. He dove in to guzzle the juicy nectar at its source, emitting a hoarse moan with the initial sip. She gasped, feeling the vibration against her quivering lips, as a blissful wave rippled through her soul, intensifying her arousal. Gripping her silky hair, he nestled his face, exploring every crevice, nuzzling her thoroughly. His insatiable tongue and eager lips caressed the velvety walls of her intimate entrance, skillfully teasing the supple skin and delicate clitoris. His left hand, loving and firm, cupped her slender ankle, his touch sending shivers up her bone. Slowly, he trailed his hand up her smooth thigh, his fingertips tracing every contour, igniting a fiery anticipation within her. With a whispered whoop, he sank his index into her swollen, drenched core, the wetness coating his digit. There was no resistance, only an overwhelming urge for more. In sync with her ragged sighs, he added a second finger. The sound of their combined panting saturated the air as her grip tightened around his relentless, plunging fingers.

At this point, Aubree was trembling with need as every fiber within her begged to be fucked. The alpha’s dominant pheromones beguiled her, while his languid, deliberate movements captivated her gaze. His hungry eyes, dark and all-consuming held her spellbound by the way he devoured her. The crushed combination of his present and skill left her subdued, infatuated even. As her back arched in pleasure, a primordial scream tore through her open windpipe. Excitement was so intense, a fiery mixture of ecstasy and release so gratifying and flawless,  that her omega felt a devastating love than just heat. In that instant, he hit her G-spot with caustic precision one final time, causing her to pour forth in a torrential climax. A violent, passionate eruption met by the man’s eager mouth, which drank her essence like a thirsty beast.

However, something unexpected happened as the orgasm subsided. Aubree burst into tears.

Copious tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks; wet, hot streaks that burned almost as scorching as the new, unbearable fire festering in her belly. Sobs rang through the shelter as he called her back, holding her tightly in his protective embrace, now curled against his chest seeking consolation. “Shushu... ‘Upe kemwiä? (What is it?).” He murmured, his lips resting on her temples as he futilely wiped away her tear-strained cheekbones. “It doesn’t go away, it doesn’t go away.” She cried, her nails scratching his chest, desperately trying to hold on to something. Her nose rubbed against his rib cage, then his jaw to impregnate him with her perfume, his heart pounding wildly.

In a frenzy of kisses and bites and touches, he let her vent, his digits grazing along her spine, confused by the speed with which the urge had reassembled in her. The Na’vi was confused by the speed with which the itch had reassembled within her. Normally it would take a few hours after such a powerful first orgasm. Time to rest, eat, drink. Aubree badly needed hydration to combat the incessant fever that plagued her and the fluids she was losing.

“Take a moment to rest. You need to drink.” “Screw the water, I want you,” she confessed, her misty eyes fixated on him. They shimmered with unstoppable tears and thirst. Her face flushed with a violent purple. It was the most powerful heat the man had ever witnessed, and he wondered what had triggered it. That it was her first heat? Had the suppressors made her high? It was because of him? The alpha in him reprimanded him with the natural mildness of primal appetites. Just take her, she’s pleading for it. But he shook his head. It wasn’t him. He was better than that. He had been raised to care for others, not to use them. Alphas protect, that was what gave them purpose; he would do anything to protect his mate, even from herself.

Even though she wasn’t technically his mate.

Despite not being bonded in the traditional sense, their connection was undeniable. Aubree, unbeknownst to her, held a special place in his heart from the very moment they met. It was clear from the start that this outcome was unavoidable. Calling upon anything that could keep him sane, he held some sort of energy drink under her nose. “Näk (drink).” The omega sounded at this command. It was as if by speaking in his native language, he was able to assert himself a thousand times more forcefully, even if she didn't get his words. The omega knew for both of them. “Can you do this for me? Drink this and I'll give you everything you want.” She had never heard anything more beautiful. She swelled the entire contents in one gulp, her head dizzy from the sudden amount of sugar. She fell back between the pillows with a quickening pulse, even if he was stroking her hair comfortably. The fall brought a fresh whiff of her needy wake, filling the entire hut as well as his nostrils. Instinctively, the hunter took a deep breath. A breath, that stopped halfway as his brain registered the source of the trail between the woman’s legs. A shimmering fountain that caused him to let out a guttural roar of defeat. He was so weak to her.

As he settled between her groin, the tip of his erection brushed against the warrior’s waistband, still clinging to his torso. The only garment Aubree had allowed him to keep.  The sight of him, breathtakingly elegant and athletic, thanks to Eywa’s mercy, overshadowed the idea of how many other omegas had the privilege of having him inside them before her. But now he was all hers. That thought alone ignited a fresh wave of excitement to blossom. He pressed his full weight onto her, and she wasted no time running her hands over his taut, strong, muscular back. Every contour, every sinew, was exquisitely formed and enticing under her touch. The closeness they shared, their bodies pressed against each other, sent a thrill through her. He smelled so damn good, hard and bothered for her. The way he responded to her advances only heightened her desire, flaring up a foreign heat in her veins, surpassing even her own natural instincts.

His shaft, long and thick, glided inside her, stealing her a gasp as he filled her in one fluid motion. Pleasure trembled through her, evident in her labored breathing and tightened walls. The barriers of her depths easily acclimated to his divine cock, satisfying even her smallest wishes. It was almost embarrassing to realize how every aspect of him was designed to please her — the texture of his body, the touch of his skin, the taste of his lips, the sound of his voice, his tantalizing scent.

She couldn’t help it and was somehow ashamed of her weakness. Her intimacy clenched at some point, in response to the blows he gave her, the few but deep sounds he made. So securely he gasped at the faint pain before rushing to her mouth in a ferocious kiss. Demanding, needy. He bit and pulled at her lip, pushing his tongue to lick the arch of hers, to suck her teeth, making her vibrate around him.  Had she mentioned that his lips were amazing? Yes, she had, but who cared? She would have repeated over and over again how unworldly they melded with hers in such a sublime way that they would have stunned her if she weren’t for the crazy pheromones already. Aubree didn’t even know who this man was. Her senses tangled, preventing her from recognizing his face or voice, despite a nagging suspicion of familiarity. Her mind sporadically focused before touch or smell overpowered it. Now taste. His lips felt like fresh fruit, sweet and full-bodied. She would have spent hours luxuriating in them, but the impression she was about to burst grew and grew, driving and unbearable.

She moaned uncontrollably as the Na’vi drew back his hips until only the tip rested against her core to thrust again before effortlessly thrusting again. Each new point of contact stung inside her. The avatar felt an insatiable desire to take all of him, to never let go. Her heart filled with euphoria — little bites, caresses, kisses ran through her body, which now smelled like his. She tugged at his hair as he made his way back to her mouth, her wet thighs encircling his waist, her heels nestled in the dimples of Venus. Clinging to him as if the contact of his epidermis, his chest, his arms weren’t enough. She craved more. Their hearts pounded in unison, like furious galloping horses, their passion untamed. “Tsahey, sı`ltsan’efu (oh hell, feels good),” he grunted, his timbre low and gravelly. Kind of a dirty move whispering praise in Na’vi into her ear. His words danced to the tips of her toes from the dull joy it gave her to feel appreciated, as the sound of their frames colliding echoed in the hut, a symphony of lust and devotion. Her cries grew shrill, a melodic chorus that fueled his every thrust. He was so hot, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, as he moved faster, the friction intensified, sending sparks shooting through all of her body. Aubree clasped her legs around his waist, hankering for everything he offered. His grip on her shoulders steadied, his fingers digging into her skin. The force of his thrusts increased, each one hitting her with a mix of pleasure and pain. Her nails dragged along his back, leaving red trails in their wake.

The man rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingled; his lukewarm exhales covering her face and his ears full with her gasps. The smell of their passion hung heavy in the small space, a heady mixture of steam and need. He watched her in both ecstasy and disbelief. The sight of such intensity in his gaze overpowered her, but she clung to it, relishing every moment when his dick struck a sensitive bundle of nerves.

As she felt his knot dwell, alpha pheromones crept into her subconscious, drowning her omega in the musky aroma of dominance and submission, an exhilarating fog that pushed her further into surrender. The place seemed to darken as her soul naturally responded to him; her pulse hastening with trepidation. Each frantic gasps for oxygen a struggle against the sweeping emotions. She had no choice but to capitulate, to cry out for him. It felt as if her very DNA had been written to covet him, to lock him inside, but the native held her back, prolonging the exquisite torture.

“That’s not a good idea. It’s your first time.”

A new growl escaped her windpipe, vibrating hungry rage. A rumble that allowed no response, a warning that made him bend his ears back and sink to the point of no return. His stare fixed on her with a longing that knew no bounds. Now only orgasm could free him from her clutches. His expression seemed pained, a flicker of hesitation, but it lasted only a second before the most animalistic and savage sounds she had ever heard rose from the back of his throat. The researcher bit his neck to stifle a moan louder than the others, desperate to repress the burden that threatened to consume him. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop for concern of hurting her. He gasped, his grip on her hips toughening as he plunged more fervently, the rhythmic slapping of their bodies reverberating through the room.

“Don’t ever come out. Stay in forever,” she stammered in confused, fading whimpers. His reaction was harsh, his hips digging with such force that the knot scraped hard against her walls, inducing her to writhe in ecstasy. “Nga tsun ke pawm fula tsonta oe… Nga zir fìtxan tsìltsan (You can’t just ask me that… You feel so amazing).” His voice strained with lust. In response, the woman gyrated her hips even deeper against him, moaning with abandon until he filled her completely. His burning seed spread inside her, as he released a final wave of pheromones that triggered an orgasm so powerful it knocked her unconscious — her frame succumbing to the overwhelming fulfillment that exhausted her. “Are you okay?” He kissed her temple, but she could barely nod, still breathless. “Good.”

Amid that swirling sea of dizzying, carnal lechery, the Na’vi caught a whiff of her enticing trail, drawing him in like a magnetic force. He twisted her neck gently, planting kisses and licks behind her ear, where it released all sorts of fragrances that blended with the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Aubree shivered, her skin tingling as he grazed his teeth over her sensitive flesh. The aroma of her essence intensified here, so potent it could dance on his tongue, so tantalizing to explore further.

As he indulged in a small taste, her partner’s presence surged within her; his dick twitched, and automatically her inner walls throb around him. Just as her apprehension grew, fearing his bite, his lips found her ear where he murmured: “Don’t be afraid. I won’t mark you until you ask me to.”

Suddenly, a clarity washed over her, as if the dense intoxication of hormones had dissolved, leaving her lucid in its wake. The researcher pushed her lover away, panic coursing. Her narrowed eyes hinted at a revelation, now that she could finally name the alpha who had guided her in her very first heat, still mating with her with a satisfied and dangerous grin.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya.

Her eyelids suddenly grew heavy. Aubree fought not to close them, but with each blink it became harder and harder to keep them open. She felt his fingertips brush the hair from her face, then caress one cheek as he lowered himself to place a light kiss on her forehead.“Hahaw, ma’uniltı`ranyu. Nga kin ne tsurokx. Tätxaw ngeyä tawtutetokx. Oe veaywng nga kay sìn. (Sleep, my dreamwalker. You need to rest. Return to your human body. I’ll take care of you from now on).”

Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

@neteyamssyulang @layla2-49

[astrxq]

https://www.tumblr.com/astrxq/757321046554755072/please-bring-back-spider-man-ethan-landry

FRIEND YOU SHOULD DO LIKE JEALOUS ETHAN LANDRY AND IDK PUT HARRY OSBORN IN THERE OR SUM 😭

A Shattered Glass, A Mended Heart

spider-man!ethan landry x reader

words: 6k

The autumn breeze rustled through the trees lining the campus walkway, sending a cascade of amber and gold leaves swirling around your feet. You adjusted the strap of your backpack, the weight of your textbooks a constant reminder of the mountain of assignments waiting for you and Ethan back at your shared apartment. With the chill in the air, you quickened your pace, eager to get to your next class.

As you rounded the corner of the science building, a familiar voice cut through the crisp autumn air.

"Hey! Wait up!"

You turned, surprised to see Harry Osborn jogging toward you. His designer shoes, polished to a mirror shine, barely made a sound on the concrete path. His perfectly coiffed hair was miraculously untouched by the breeze, and you couldn't help but wonder how he managed to always look so impeccably put together.

"Harry," you greeted him, your smile genuine. "I didn’t know you were back in town."

He fell into step beside you with an easy grace, his grin widening. "Just got back yesterday. Couldn't stay away from the city for too long, you know? Besides, I've got some exciting new projects in the works."

You nodded, genuinely intrigued. Harry had left college a year ago to take over his father’s company, Oscorp. In that time, he’d transformed it into a cutting-edge tech giant. "That’s great, Harry. I’m sure Ethan will be thrilled to hear about it."

For a brief moment, a flicker of something – was it disappointment? – crossed Harry’s face before his charismatic smile returned. "Oh, I’m sure he will. Speaking of which, how is our friendly neighborhood nerd?"

You playfully swatted his arm, the warmth of your gesture contrasting with the crisp air. "Be nice. Ethan’s doing well. Busy with classes and his internship, but that’s nothing new."

Harry chuckled, his eyes dancing with a hint of mischief. "Some things never change."

He paused for a moment, his expression turning more thoughtful. "Listen, I was thinking of having a little get-together this weekend. You know, to celebrate my triumphant return to New York. You should definitely come."

“I’ll check with Ethan and let you know,” you said, his eyebrow twitched in thought, clearing his throat before picking up his step again, catching up with you. 

“Right, Ethan’s totally invited as well.”

The air between you and Harry crackled with the electric tension of old friendships and unspoken words. Ethan had told you many times about how the sweet and kind Harry had been replaced by a cocky and dismissive one ever since he left for the business. 

“Perfect,” you replied, trying to keep the conversation light. The two of you walked in companionable silence for a few moments, the autumn leaves crunching beneath your steps. The campus was alive with the subdued hum of students rushing to their next classes, their breath visible in the chilly air. 

You wondered if Harry's demeanor had truly changed that much, if his new projects were as thrilling as he made them sound. The thought lingered as you both reached the entrance to your next class.

Harry glanced at his watch, then back at you, his smile easing into a more contemplative expression. "Anyway, I'll let you get to your class. But seriously, think about coming to the party. It’ll be good to catch up."

You nodded, appreciating his offer despite the undercurrent of tension you couldn't quite place. "I’ll definitely think about it. It’s good to see you back, Harry."

He gave you a quick hug, surprisingly, and then turned on his heel, heading off in the opposite direction. You watched him go, his back straight and confident as he vanished into the crowd of students, your eyebrows furrowed. 

Before you could think any harder on the sudden appearance of Harry, you felt a finger poke your side.

The unexpected poke pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to find Ethan standing beside you, his usual wide-eyed excitement tempered with a soft smile. The slight dishevelment of Ethan’s hair, a product of a long day, only made his presence feel more comforting.

“Hey there,” Ethan said, “Got you this.” He held up the warm coffee cup to you.

You gratefully accepted the coffee from Ethan, its warmth seeping through your fingers and chasing away the autumn chill. You moved to kiss his cheek, cupping his face before fixing the hair strand that had fallen on his forehead.  "Thanks, Eth. You're a lifesaver."

Ethan's eyes crinkled with affection as he watched you take a sip. "Thought you might need a pick-me-up before your next class. How's your day been so far?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to mention your encounter with Harry just yet. "It's been... interesting," you said finally. "Actually, I ran into Harry Osborn a few minutes ago."

Ethan's stance stilled for a moment. "Oh?" he said, his voice carefully neutral. "How is he?"

“Um, he is well. I think.” you said, taking another sip and moving to link your hands together before sitting on one of the stone benches on the side of campus. “He seems excited to be back.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he sat down beside you, the warmth of the coffee in your hands a stark contrast to the chill of the air. The stone bench felt solid beneath you, its surface cool but welcoming. You could sense a subtle shift in Ethan's mood, a quiet caution that spoke volumes despite his outward calm. 

“Are you not happy that he’s back? Maybe he’s not so bad anymore.”

Ethan sighed, his gaze fixed on a cluster of students hurrying past, their breath misting in the air. The campus, bathed in golden sunlight, seemed oblivious to the undercurrents of tension. His fingers drummed absently against his own coffee cup, a rhythmic counterpoint to the rustling leaves.

"I don’t know," Ethan said slowly. His voice carried a weight of unspoken concerns. "Harry’s been… different since he left. When he was here, he was one of the good guys, you know? But after he took over his father's company, he became more – well, an ass."

You nodded, understanding more than you could put into words. Ethan’s words resonated with a truth you had glimpsed in Harry’s brief visit. The charm and confidence seemed genuine, but there was a layer of something unspoken, a hint of the past that lingered in his eyes.

Ethan’s gaze softened as he looked at you. "It’s just that–" he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “It doesn’t matter.”

You reached up to his hair again, fixing the few curly strands that had messily moved out of place because of the breeze. “How was your exam?”

Ethan's lips quirked into a small smile at your tender gesture, and for a moment, the campus around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared warmth and familiarity. “It was pretty intense, but I think I did okay,” he said, his voice holding a note of cautious optimism. 

“I’m sure you did great,” you said reassuringly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You always do. Besides, you’ve been working so hard lately. You deserve a break.”

Ethan’s smile widened, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and affection. “I’ve been looking forward to catching up on some downtime. Maybe a movie night this weekend?”

You hesitated, the memory of Harry’s invitation resurfacing. 

"About this weekend," you began carefully, your eyes searching Ethan's face. "Harry mentioned he's throwing a party. He invited us both."

Ethan's expression shifted, a flicker of emotion passing across his features before settling into a carefully neutral mask. "Oh," he said, his voice measured. "I see."

You watched him closely, trying to gauge his reaction. "We don't have to go if you're not comfortable with it," you offered, your voice soft. "I know things have been... complicated with him."

Ethan was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant as he seemed to consider the situation. The campus bustled around you, students rushing to and from classes, oblivious to the delicate conversation unfolding on the stone bench.

Finally, Ethan turned back to you, a small, resigned smile on his face. "No, it's okay. Maybe it would be good to see Harry again. Who knows? Maybe things have changed."

You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating his willingness to give Harry a chance. "Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I could use a break from Uni anyway.”

“I’ll let Harry know we’ll be there."

He sighed, stretching his arms out and grinning at you before resting his chin on your shoulder, his coffee cup empty and sitting next to him. “Pizza tonight?”

As Ethan’s arms draped around you, you felt the comforting weight of his embrace, the warmth from his body a soothing balm against the cool autumn air. The campus around you seemed to fade into the background, the golden sunlight casting a soft glow over the scene. You nestled into him, savoring the simplicity of the moment.

“Pizza it is,” you agreed with a laugh, leaning into Ethan's shoulder. “And I’ll definitely need it to recover from Mr. Kunning’s lecture. He’s been relentless lately.”

Ethan’s laughter was a low rumble against your ear, a sound that always had the power to lift your spirits. 

His fingers began to trace absent circles on your back, his touch light and reassuring. When the loudly frustrating phone alarm rang from your pocket, Ethan stood up, stretching his arms above his head with a dramatic yawn. “Alright, back to the grind for you.”

You huffed, taking one last sip of your cup before resting your forehead on his chest dramatically. “You’re done for the day and I’m stuck here.”

He kissed your hair, “You’ll survive. Just think about the pizza later.”

“I’ll be thinking about it all afternoon, trust me.”

Ethan’s nose brushed against your neck, the touch tender and fleeting, a silent promise of the comfort that awaited you later. You looked up at him, catching the sparkle of mischief in his eyes as he slowly pulled away.

“Alright, off you go,” he said with a playful nudge. “And remember, the sooner you finish your classes, the sooner we get to pizza.”

You gave him a wry smile, reluctantly pulling away from the hug.  “Don’t think I’m not looking forward to it,” 

Before turning to walk away, you reached up and planted a quick, affectionate kiss on his lips. Ethan’s eyes softened, and he grinned, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

He waved, his grin wide and infectious as he watched you walk away. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling his warmth linger even as he receded into the bustling campus crowd.

Later that evening, once the sky had cleared into a darker blue, you unlocked the door to your apartment, the smell of slightly burnt pizza greeting you as you stepped inside. You found Ethan in the kitchen, frantically waving a dish towel at the smoking oven.

"Uh, welcome home?" he said sheepishly, his glasses slightly askew and a smudge of flour on his cheek. "I may have slightly miscalculated the cooking time."

You couldn't help but laugh as you set down your bag and moved to help him. Ethan's cheeks reddened slightly as he ran a hand through his already messy hair. 

"Maybe we should order in instead?" you suggested, trying to suppress a giggle as Ethan sheepishly nodded in agreement, desperately throwing out the crusted and burnt pizza.

As you settled on the worn-out couch with your delivery pizza, Ethan's arm draped comfortably around your shoulders. The TV hummed softly in the background, he nipped kisses on your neck, moving to your jaw and to your collarbone as you finished your last piece, you hummed a laugh as you felt him reach your cheek – obviously wanting you to finish your last bites so he could steal a kiss.

Finally, with a playful glint in his eyes, stole the last slice of pizza from your hands, and you laughed, swatting his hand away. “I’m not done with that!” you protested, though your smile betrayed your amusement.

He shrugged, leaving it on the plate before shifting his body closer to yours, a hummed laugh escaping his lips before he placed his mouth on yours. The kiss was soft, Ethan’s lips were gentle against yours, the playful urgency of his earlier mischief replaced by a deeper, more affectionate tenderness. 

Just when Ethan’s hand moved to cup your cheek to deepen the kiss, your phone buzzed on the couch, making you both pull away. Harry’s ‘Ok, see you ;)’ text lit up your screen, a response to your earlier message saying you and Ethan would show up at his party.

You pulled back slightly, your lips still tingling from Ethan's kiss. His eyes met yours, a glint of curiosity mingling with something more unsettling – an undercurrent of jealousy.

Ethan glanced at the phone screen and the text from Harry, his expression shifting. The playfulness that had been present moments ago was replaced by a furrowed brow and a slight frown. “Harry’s already getting all chummy,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of edge.

You could sense the tension building between you, and you took Ethan’s hand gently, trying to bridge the gap. “It’s just a text. I’m sure he’s excited to see us.” 

Ethan nodded, but the tightness in his jaw suggested he was still wrestling with his feelings. He leaned back on the couch, pulling you closer to him, though the warmth of his embrace now felt slightly strained.

“Yeah, maybe.” Ethan said, his eyes not quite meeting yours, gaze shifting to the TV again.

You reached to touch his chin, tilting your head as you looked at his profile. “We don’t have to stay long. We can just make an appearance and leave if it gets uncomfortable.”

He nodded, still quiet, and moved to run his fingers over your arm, tracing circles as you toyed with his hair. “I need to cut it,” he mumbled, feeling you twist one of his curls with your fingers. “It’s too long now.”

As you ran your fingers through Ethan’s curls, the soft strands slipping through your fingers, you could feel the subtle tension in his muscles slowly easing. 

“It’s cute,” you murmured, a playful lilt in your voice. “I like the way it looks.”

"Really?" Ethan asked, his tone betraying a mix of surprise and gratitude. "I thought it was getting a bit unruly."

You smiled, leaning closer to him. "I think it looks great, I like your curls."

Ethan’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his earlier unease momentarily forgotten. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and reassuring against your skin. The gesture was simple, but it carried an intimacy that made the room feel even more cozy and safe.

The hum of the TV was a comforting backdrop to your conversation. As the evening wore on, you found yourselves wrapped in each other’s presence, the earlier worries about Harry’s party momentarily pushed to the back of your minds.

____________

“Why didn’t he tell us it was fancy?” Ethan grumbled under his breath, his hand on the small of your back and the other in his jean pocket. His eyes scanned the room, all the other guests wearing much less comfortable clothes. 

His other hand was stuffed into his jeans pocket, fingers gripping nervously at the fabric. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the sea of sharply dressed guests – men in tailored shirts and women in elegant dresses, their laughter mingling with the clink of glasses and the soft strains of a live string quartet. It felt almost like you didn’t belong there.

Ethan was convinced Harry did it on purpose, to embarrass him, to rub his new persona and belittle him.

You looked down at your own outfit – a simple dress paired with comfortable shoes – feeling slightly out of place among the opulent surroundings. 

You squeezed his hand, trying to offer some comfort. “I guess we should have asked for more details.”

Harry across the room drew your attention. He was talking animatedly with a group of guests, his tailored suit hugging his frame perfectly, a sharp contrast to the more casual attire you and Ethan had opted for. His eyes met yours briefly, and he flashed a dazzling smile, waving you over.

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you said with a small, reassuring smile. “Let’s go say hi. I’m sure Harry will understand.”

Ethan gave a reluctant nod and adjusted his slightly wrinkled shirt, trying to smooth out the creases as you both made your way through the crowd. 

As you approached, Harry’s smile widened. He greeted you with a warm hug, his demeanor friendly but carrying a certain air of polished detachment. “You came!” 

Ethan grinded his teeth, obviously noticing Harry’s ignorance of his presence, fully focused on you. 

“Ethan, good to see you!” Harry said, his tone sincere but carrying an undertone of distance. He extended his hand, which Ethan shook firmly, though his grip was slightly more reserved than usual.

Ethan forced a tight smile. Harry’s gaze moved to where Ethan’s hand rested, he lifted his brows at the grounding touch. You could sense Ethan’s irritation simmering just beneath the surface. 

Smirking, Harry took a step closer, uttering your name before offering you to go fetch a drink, he pointed at the bottle-filled table a few feet away- You reluctantly stepped away, giving Ethan one last reassuring look before making your way to grab two cups. Ethan took a step forward, ready to follow behind you and leave Harry behind, but his old friend’s pull on his shirt stopped him. 

“Still pining after her, eh? Haven’t moved on yet, I see.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened at Harry’s comment, the edge of irritation sharpening in his eyes. The gentle hum of the string quartet and the murmur of conversations around you seemed to fade as Harry’s words hung in the air. You glanced back at Ethan, noticing the flicker of hurt and frustration on his face.

“Not at all,” Ethan said, his voice a controlled rasp. He tried to mask his irritation with a forced smile, but the tension in his posture was evident. “We’re together.”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly, but his smile didn’t falter. Ethan’s eyes didn’t leave your figure, grasping at any chance to avoid Harry’s smirk and heavy stare. “Hm,” Harry taunted, “She didn’t mention it when we bumped into each other.”

Ethan wasn’t stupid, he knew Harry and he knew that tone. He was taunting him. Ethan's hands clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to maintain his composure. The party around them seemed to fade into the background, the laughter and music becoming a distant hum as he focused on Harry's words.

"It was a two minute conversation," Ethan said, his voice low and controlled. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions brewing inside him. "Or maybe she thought you already knew, considering we've been together for a while now."

Harry's eyebrows raised slightly, a flicker of something – surprise? disappointment? – crossing his face before his usual charming smile slid back into place. "Well, congratulations are in order then," he said, clapping Ethan on the shoulder. The gesture felt more patronizing than friendly. 

Ethan's eyes narrowed at Harry's words, a mixture of hurt and anger bubbling beneath the surface. He opened his mouth to respond, but you returned at that moment, two glasses in hand.

"Here we go," you said, handing a drink to Ethan. Your smile faltered as you sensed the tension between the two men. You leaned towards Ethan, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist.  "Is everything okay?" 

Harry's charming grin returned in full force. "Of course! Just catching up with Eth here. It's been too long, hasn't it?"

Ethan nodded stiffly, his fingers tightening around the glass. "Yeah, too long," he echoed, his voice lacking any real enthusiasm.

“How long have you been...?" He gestured between you and Ethan, his tricky smile never wavering.

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it. "We've been together for almost a year now," you said, leaning into Ethan's side.

Harry couldn’t hold in a chuckle, patting Ethan’s shoulder, almost as if they were the closest friends. “How did thathappen?”

You could feel Ethan's muscles stiffen beside you, his grip on his drink tightening as Harry’s words continued to grate on his nerves. Sensing the tension, you cleared your throat, wishing to change the subject. 

The tension in Ethan's body was palpable, his arm around your waist almost rigid. You leaned into him slightly, hoping to offer some comfort.

"So, Harry," you began, trying to ease the tension, "tell us about these new projects you mentioned. They sound exciting."

Harry's eyes lit up, and he launched into an animated description of Oscorp's latest ventures. As he spoke, his gaze kept flicking back to you, his smile widening each time he caught your eye. Ethan stood silently beside you, his posture growing increasingly tense with each passing moment. 

You could feel the unease radiating from Ethan, a tangible undercurrent to the lively atmosphere of the party. As Harry delved into his latest projects, you listened with half an ear, your attention focused more on Ethan’s discomfort. His fingers drummed against his glass, the rhythm betraying his inner turmoil.

Harry’s voice rose above the murmur of the crowd, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter from the guests. He spoke of cutting-edge technology and revolutionary breakthroughs, his enthusiasm palpable.

Every time you’d turn your head to look at Ethan, Harry’s hand would land on your arm, his posture changing to lean closer to you so you’d pay attention to him. Even though you moved away, Harry was too immersed into his own words to contemplate. 

Ethan was sure his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets if he stared at the guy in front of him any harder, a glare on his face as he gripped the cup in his hand, knuckled white. He watched as Harry made flirty comments, practically begging for your attention as he spoke, his superior tone and words itching Ethan wrong. Every time he’d mention an experiment, he’d throw a jab at Ethan’s internship.

You could see the tightness in Ethan’s jaw, the way his fingers clenched around his drink, struggling to keep his cool amidst Harry’s veiled taunts.

Harry leaned in closer, his hand resting lightly on your arm as he spoke, you shook it off but he didn’t seem to mind as he continued to speak. The closeness made Ethan’s discomfort even more palpable, and you could feel him stiffening beside you. His gaze remained fixed on Harry, his eyes narrowing with a mix of resentment and helplessness.

As Harry mentioned a recent ‘breakthrough’ at Oscorp, he casually tossed in a remark about how ‘not everyone can be on the cutting edge of technology,’ a thinly veiled jab at Ethan’s more modest internship. The words cut through Ethan like a knife, his grip on his glass tightening to the point where the glass began to crack.

You didn’t immediately notice, too absorbed in trying to smile and nod in hopes for Harry to finish his story and scurry your way home. The moment you felt Ethan’s tension peak, however, you turned to look at him and gasped.

A sharp crack echoed through the room as the glass shattered in Ethan’s hand. The fragmented pieces fell to the floor with a clatter, drawing startled glances from nearby guests. Ethan’s face went pale as he stared down at the mess, the remnants of his drink staining his fingers and the floor, a few drops of blood on his hand.

You quickly stepped forward, setting your own glass down on a nearby table before turning to Ethan. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice filled with concern as you took his hand gently.

Ethan’s gaze was fixed on the broken glass, his breathing uneven as he tried to regain his composure. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, his voice strained. His attempt at a calm demeanor was betrayed by the slight tremor in his hand and the angry flush of his cheeks.

Harry’s eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and amusement, though he tried to mask it with a concerned look. “Careful there, Eth,” he said, his tone dripping with false sympathy. 

“Gotta watch out for that strength of yours” Harry joked, though he was the only one that laughed. 

The Spider-Man joke flew over everyone’s heads, but Ethan tightened his jaw, glaring daggers at him.

The party’s chatter buzzed on, but the broken glass seemed to have created a vacuum around you and Ethan. You knelt beside him, gathering the larger shards with quick, practiced movements. The sharp edges glinted ominously under the soft lighting of the room. You could feel the discomfort radiating off Ethan, his frustration a palpable force that threatened to bubble over.

“Just stay still,” you murmured, carefully avoiding the smaller shards as you focused on his injured hand. The room seemed to hold its breath as you worked, the elegant surroundings contrasting sharply with the tense drama unfolding in the corner.

Ethan’s eyes flicked between the broken glass and Harry’s insincere expression. He tried to mask his irritation with a strained smile, but his attempt to keep his cool was failing. “I’ve got it,” he said, his voice taut. “Thanks for the help.”

Harry’s false concern was almost unbearable. “You should really be more careful,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “Maybe not everyone’s cut out for the finer things.”

You felt your patience thin as Harry’s gaze lingered on Ethan, his smile turning into a smirk. You shot him a look of icy displeasure before focusing entirely on Ethan, whose face was now a mix of anger and embarrassment.

“It’s alright, Ethan,” you said softly, trying to soothe him. “Let me just get this cleaned up.”

As you retrieved a nearby napkin, you could feel Ethan’s eyes on Harry, his irritation barely contained. You noticed Harry’s smirk falter slightly, his eyes narrowing as he realized his attempt to needle Ethan wasn’t working as intended. The party guests had returned to their conversations, though a few still glanced over curiously.

“Do you need any help?” Harry asked, his voice carrying an edge of false concern. His gaze shifted between you and Ethan, a flicker of satisfaction dancing in his eyes at the scene unfolding before him.

“I think we’ve got it covered,” you said firmly, your tone leaving no room for further intrusion. “But thanks.”

Ethan’s hand was now reasonably cleaned, though the redness from his grip was still evident. He looked up at you, his eyes reflecting his appreciation for your support. You could see the frustration slowly ebbing away, replaced by a determined resolve.

“We’ll walk ourselves out.” you clung to Ethan’s shirt, pulling him behind you as you walked towards the door without a second look at Harry.

Ethan exhaled heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly as he tried to shake off the lingering tension as you entered the glass elevator. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

You shook your head, offering him a comforting smile. “He was being an ass.” you referred to what Ethan had called him just days before, earning a small smile from him.

As the glass elevator doors slid shut behind you, the distant noise of the party became a muted hum, replaced by the soft chime of the elevator’s ascent. You stood side by side with Ethan, the gentle sway of the elevator a subtle reminder of the night’s earlier chaos. The flickering lights from the cityscape outside danced across the glass, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the walls.

Ethan’s gaze was fixed on the floor, the weight of the evening’s events still pressing heavily on his shoulders. His fingers brushed against yours, and you instinctively intertwined them, a silent gesture of solidarity and comfort.

“I’m really sorry about tonight,” Ethan said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t expect Harry to–”

You cut him off with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “It’s not your fault, Ethan. Harry’s always been like that. It’s just who he is.”

“He was being so… touchy.” he spat out, cheeks red.

It was almost endearing to see Ethan worked up like this, his usual calm and shy demeanor replaced with a rare display of frustration. You squeezed his hand again, trying to offer as much reassurance as you could.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice barely more than a murmur. “Harry’s always had a way of pushing buttons.”

Ethan let out a deep breath, his tension slowly dissipating. “I just… I didn’t expect him to be so–” He paused, searching for the right word. “–such a jerk. I thought maybe he’d changed, or at least that he’d be civil.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his with a blend of sympathy and understanding. You ran your fingers over the dirty napkin on his hand, “Does it hurt?” 

Ethan shook his head, a wry smile curling on his lips despite the sting of the glass shards embedded in his palm. “It’s more of a nuisance than anything else. It will be healed by the morning.”

You frowned, not entirely convinced by his casual dismissal. You took his hand in yours, the sharp edges of the glass catching the dim light from the streetlamp outside as you walked the street. The glass was small, but the way it glinted made you wince in sympathy.

“You need those taken out.”

Ethan’s eyes softened, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his tough exterior. “You don’t have to, you know. I can manage.”

“You’ve managed quite enough for today,” you countered firmly, steering him towards the nearest all-night pharmacy.

The inside of the store was quiet, filled with the faint scent of antiseptic and the hum of fluorescent lights. You guided Ethan to a small section of first-aid supplies, your fingers brushing over shelves stocked with bandages, antiseptic wipes, and tweezers.

He trailed behind you with a soft flush to his cheeks as the red tainted napkin in his hand got the attention of the workers. “Come,” you grabbed his free hand, pulling him to walk behind you as you paid. 

As you approached the counter, the clerk offered a polite nod, his eyes flickering briefly to the red-stained napkin. You could feel Ethan’s discomfort radiating from him, a mix of embarrassment and pain that he tried to mask with a nonchalant attitude.

The clerk rang up the items – a small bottle of antiseptic, a set of tweezers, and a package of gauze – while you kept your gaze fixed on Ethan, reassuring him with a steady, unwavering look. His eyes met yours, and in that fleeting moment, you could see a hint of gratitude. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Ethan said quietly as you finished paying.

You offered him a soft smile as you gathered the bag and headed towards the pharmacy’s exit. “I’m already here, aren’t I? Besides, someone needs to make sure you don’t end up with an infection.”

____________

“Ow!”

“Eth! If you move your hand every time I tweeze something out we’ll be here all night.” you scolded, the tweezers in your hand and Ethan’s palm up on your thigh, the apartment’s bathroom light making it easier to see the crystals.

Ethan winced as you delicately extracted another shard of glass from his palm, the bathroom light casting sharp shadows across his face. He tried to keep his hand steady, but the sharp pricks of pain made it hard for him to stay still.

“Sorry,” you said, your tone soft but firm. “Just a little longer.”

“Ow!” he whined again, pushing his hand away and reaching for the tweezers, “You’re doing it too quickly, just let me do it.”

You gave him a look, knowing just how much he hated blood and how easy it was for him to get freaked out by injuries most of the time – ironically, since he got injured very often because of his suited persona. You handed him the tweezers, an unimpressed look on your face as his hand shook, making it harder for him to catch the small piece of glass in his hand.

He slowly, very slowly, tried taking it out. He winced again. “See? Let me.” you said, moving closer to get the tweezers again. He took the chance to wrap his arm around your waist, breath tingling against your temple as you focused on his hand. 

You felt the warmth of his breath on your skin, a subtle reminder of his presence that went beyond mere physical proximity. The closeness was comforting, even if his hand was a bit of a mess right now. 

He hummed the tune of a movie you didn’t quite recognize, every now and then stopping the song to complain or make uncomfortable noises. Finally, all the glasses were out of his hand, you could see the healing powers starting to fix his skin, though the thought of it irked you out, the lessening pain in Ethan’s face made you relax.

“There we go,” you mumbled, wrapping the bandage around his hand to stop the bleeding and help speed up the spider-healing. Just as you were about to take a step back, the hand that held you close to him pushed you even closer, his head falling to your shoulder. 

“Hm,” he nudged your arms, urging you to hug him back. With a chuckle, you followed suit. 

You wrapped your arms around him, the embrace both reassuring and intimate. His body relaxed against yours, the tension that had plagued him during the ordeal slowly melting away. The soft, rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing was soothing, a silent acknowledgment of the comfort you provided.

The bathroom was quiet, save for the faint hum of the ventilation fan and the occasional drip of the used water from the sink, which added to the sense of calm that enveloped the room. 

Ethan’s voice broke the silence, his tone softer now, filled with a hint of vulnerability. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his breath on your neck as he spoke. You leaned to plant a soft kiss to his neck, moving up to cup his cheeks and pull him in for a slow kiss. Without another word, you pulled him out of the bathroom and to the couch, he curled up beside you.

ou led Ethan out of the bathroom and into the living room, his steps slow and deliberate as he nestled against you. The faint light from the street filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow that added to the tranquility of the room. The soft hum of the city outside was a distant murmur, almost like a lullaby accompanying the evening’s calm.

As you both settled onto the couch, Ethan curled up beside you, his head resting comfortably on the armrest while his injured hand was carefully propped up on a pillow. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was a soothing rhythm against your side. You could feel the warmth of his body, a comforting presence that seemed to anchor you both in the stillness of the night.

You gently smoothed his hair back, the gesture tender and reassuring. “Just relax,” you murmured softly, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his scalp.

The moments stretched on, and you let yourself drift in the quiet intimacy. The world outside seemed to pause, giving way to this small, cocoon of calm and connection. You could feel Ethan’s steady breathing, the occasional twitch of his fingers as they adjusted to the comfort of the bandaged hand.

Eventually, Ethan’s eyes fluttered closed, his head nestled against your shoulder as he drifted into a peaceful slumber. The rhythm of his breathing was steady, a comforting reminder of his presence and the bond you shared. You remained still, your arms wrapped around him protectively, savoring the tranquility of the moment.

[perkeleen-lavellan]

I feel like with any sincere discussion of Veilguard we should start off by establishing that there are multiple forms of 'fun' as it were, to be had from video games. The main purpose of a video game is, after all, to be fun. To entertain us.

So. With Veilguard I feel the problem is this; Veilguard succeeds at being fun. It succeeds at the kind of actionable fun. Veilguard is fun to actively play for most people. The combat is fun, the level design is fun, the main storyline is fun whenever we get to it. Veilguard offers fun that is quick and instant. I think it was no small feat that BioWare has finally managed to design levels and combat for a Dragon Age game that feels complete. Although I will go to my grave defending the tactical combat of DAO, it is a different more gripping kind of fun that Veilguard's mobility and systems can offer.

But there is another form a fun. The kind of fun you might be more used to associating with a good book. The fun of a story you can't wait to see the end of. The fun of fantasy world building, of seeing the marvel that is an author, or a collection of authors, who know what their vision is, and who are subtle enough to communicate that vision through fiction. The joy of seeing the result of experts building their craft. Environmental clues, implications in dialogue, tone in atmosohere. Seeing a good story unfold is fun, and with video games, which are an interactive audio visual medium how much moreso?

A book is just words, a show on tv is always linear and restricted to what the camera shows us. A video game has a whole three dimensional world that you can move inside of, witnessing the story and world building both passively and actively. A video game has dialogue and characters, who can both drive and narrate the plot for you. A video game can put you inside the world the story is happening in and immerse you in it.

And I feel that Veilguard fails to take advantage of the full breadth of the vast collection of storytelling tools a video game has. The fact that the companion quests and companion writing seems to have been left incomplete, pieces wilting on the cutting room floor when the companions are meant to be the emotional core of this story? The fact that all the factions are presented as unambiguous good guys which leaves them with no depth, their stories woefully superficial and unwilling to engage in any deeper ideas? The fact that vast amounts of world building and lore have been essentially discarded? That is all severely unfun.

So I think it's fair to say that Veilguard is fun and disappointing and not fun. The fun that I had while playing this game was always followed by a collection of things that were not fun. And the most annoying part is the parts about Veilguard which are fun are the parts that are fleeting. That I can find combat in a video game entertaining, extremely entertaining sometimes, is nothing when compared to the staying power of a gripping story with not just good set up and pay-off, but also an immaculate structure supporting that all the way throug.

When I am 80 years old I will not remember fondly the fact that Veilguard was the first Dragon Age game to finally have an actual dodge mechanic. There are always going to be games with fun combat mechanics, Veilguard isn't special for that. But I will remember Solas turning into a dragon sized wolf in a desperate bid to fight a dragon ten times his size, to help the hero he became a villain to. I will remember what it felt like to have a protagonist start off by treating Solas with suspicion, knowing there was no reason to trust Solas but choosing to give Solas a chance to prove himself trustworthy anyway, and Solas breaking that trust. And I'll remember what it felt like to have that protagonist then face Solas again, and make a choice to either be kind or to be just like Solas.

You will sometimes see gamers who say they don't really care about the writing in their games that much, but then their favourite games are things like The Witcher 3, God of War, The Last of Us. The reason they say that is because the writing is so integrally a part of the gameplay experience they don't even realise how much work it's doing. Fun gameplay doesn't matter if there is no reason to continue it.

Do you know what I remember about Dragon Age Veilguard? I remember dreading opening the game and seeing the list of companion quests in my journal that I had no interest in doing, because I had already realised how nothing a lot of them were. And I'm not talking about the gameplay of those quests, I think we've established I enjoyed smacking the bad guys and moving through the levels quite a bit. Oh no. I'm not even talking about the dialogue, not really. It was the stakes. Why were these characters doing these things, and why should I care? There was so little emotional conflict in those early to mid game companion quests.

Do you know how plot structure works when you really boil it down? Conflict is set up -> tension rises -> conflict comes to a head -> tension releases. This is why you need conflict and this is why you need characters to have flaws that they will not self psychoanalyze to a resolution within the first 5 minutes of the story. The realisation of those flaws is the plot! The character overcoming those flaws is the plot. You can't have a story without plot! What are we doing here????

That's how those quests felt. They felt like all the actually meaningful things the writers of these sub-plots had to say got crammed into their final quests. With a couple exceptions. And that's why doing most of the companion quests felt like a chore.

So, anyway, in summary. Remember that a video game contains within itself multiple forms of fun. As many forms of fun as there are ways of interacting with a game.