#a character and respect him. But I am not so sure they were interested in making a important arc of him and set space for a new and better

[qcomicsy]

Marvel writer: Then Wade get involved with monsters! And–

Me:

[orcelito]

Never played a Fate game or watched any of the animes really. But I started playing Fate/Samurai Remnant bc I wanted to play a hack n slash kinda game & it got generally good reviews (unlike ffxvi, the other game I was looking at for this wish of mine, which ppl continuously said was pretty but kinda shallow writing-wise)

I've been enjoying it. I've already learned some things about 1600s Japan. It's pretty neat!

[callizinc]

Ena in Dream BBQ and Work Culture

HELLO Dashboard!! Ever since i first played DBBQ i've found the entire game endlessly interesting (as have most people, LOL) But one of the most interesting, and in my opinion, most Potent things, is Ena's character and how she relates to the game's commentary on modern work culture.

So for anyone as much of a #SICKO as me 😭 Here's an embarrassingly long analysis of just that! There's SO much to talk about with this game, and even when I'm trying to focus on one specific idea with this post, I'm sure I'll still miss things, so just stick with me best you can OK? 😭 😭

My aim for this post is to allow you to understand Just how deep in the torment nexus Ena is, and to want to say "she should be at the club" Only to realize she can't even go to the club. She can't even go to the club. Because of Job. (Among other, hopefully more intelligently articulated things!)

SO, Let's just jump right in :D

First, to state the obvious—Ena's literal entire life is her job. The only moods she expresses under normal circumstance are "smooth talking salesperson where every line is about working or trying to sell something" and "Stops keeping up the veneer and gets frustrated and pissed because she hates her stupid job."

This permeates every aspect of her character—I don't think there's a single line in the game so far where she says like, Anything about herself. There's nothing about what she may want or what she may like. It's all about her fuckass job or the fuckass Boss.

And of course, even in gameplay aspects, you literally don't get a chance to choose whether you accept a job or not, like the thought of doing anything besides giving her time and energy for other people or her job's benefit doesn't even occur to her (Or, it can't occur to her—I doubt the Boss would want to allow her reprieve from anything at all, and I'm sure Ena would know this).

(^ Ena's reaction to being told to find a mythical figure that she maybe didn't even know existed cause Froggy sure as hell didn't to do a stupid job for Froggy's stupid ass. Like)

Maybe i'm reaching here, but I even find it interesting how her red hand has no fingers (besides a thumb). I feel like that represents a lack of individuality she has when she's in Salesperson mode, or at least, a lack of individuality she's been allowed. A lack of having a defined being cause it's all about this stupid job.

There's lots of avenues to go from here, but let's start with another big point of the game: Everybody hates her. Except for like, three characters, every NPC in the game either insults her, talks down to her, blatantly doesn't respect her, or Literally tells her nobody should be punished for being born except her. Typical day for Ena.

I'm not going to get into why I think this is—for me there's not enough evidence to speculate with surety right now—but I think this does tie strongly into her commitment to her job. Ena working her ass off in every aspect of her life and earning nothing but disrespect for it is very reminiscent of real life work environments.

Think of how almost every NPC claims they are "the Boss" in such a way that many of them seem to want to be the Boss, like he's some kind of well-known or respected figure. The description for the game on Steam even says as much: "Play as ENA as she searches for the Boss that everyone wants to be."

(eg: "I am the B-O-S-S!"):

People wish they were the Boss, they want to be some kind of rich capitalist with power and fame, but when looking at someone who actually works for him, and probably is the reason the Boss has profit and success in the first place, they insult her and demean her no matter how much she gives herself to them and the Boss. I'm sure you can see the real life parallels here.

It's even possible one of the reasons Ena works so hard in the first place is as an attempt to earn respect from these people, or to make up for whatever everyone thinks she did that made everyone hate her so much. Especially considering...

Our society is one that tells its people that Work is unequivocally Good. Committing yourself to work is what everyone, no matter who they are or what they face, is what you have to do to be a valuable member of society, and to have any respect from other people in the slightest. It tells its people that you only have value as a living human being at all if you give your life to work.

Even though this blatantly isn't true. If people think you're the Wrong type of worker, or if people think your work isn't valuable, helpful, or that it doesn't require skill, you can work as hard as you want but you'll still be treated like shit. But, hey, work is still your duty as a member of society, right? Stop bitching and whining and pull yourself up by your bootstraps, right?

Needless to say, it's easy to see how this whole idea is being represented in DBBQ. She even knows how much she's sold herself to this, she just... Seems to have extremely casually accepted it all LOL, which, I mean... What else does she have the power to do?

This very casual and nonchalant acknowledgement of her lack of autonomy connects to another big point: Ena doesn't value herself, nor does she even know how to exist without being in a constant state of working.

Let's talk about the Purge: There's a LOT to get to here in terms of Ena herself LOL, but the intrigue starts before she even enters the party. Literally Froggy just saying she's about to enter an "Event" stops her in her tracks and worries her. Not to mention the next line...

This feels like an indication that despite how much she commits herself to it, Ena does "crave freedom" from her shitty job, although she can scarcely admit this anywhere else so far. Then, if you talk to this slime guy, you get some strange text.

As far as I know, the text for interacting with things doesn't look like this anywhere else in the game. And given that it looks exactly the same as how Ena's lines do in the Purge, it's seemingly the only peek we get into her internal monologue, and it is. Quite worrying! She literally can climb up a hellish freezing floating mountain and yet this is by far the most freaked out she gets in the entire game.

And then to actually get into the Purge, an Evil eye Ball tells her that she needs to give a literal arm or a leg to get in. And she just does it. Like no hesitation no further questions she just gives it away to the evil eye ball. Presumably for Good? Because the only reason she regains the arm later is because of Genie magic? Like Ena. Girl. Are we gonna talk about this at all.

But so many real life work environments expect you to give every part of yourself in order to be allowed to exist and live in society, including your physical being and critical parts of your personhood at all.

(Let me also say I find it intentional that she gave away her white arm. Whereas her red hand literally doesn't have fingers, the sharp claws she has on her white hand represent the individuality and unique identity she Does have. However, it's also the part of herself that's in conflict with her ability to be a Good Worker, that always does exactly what she's supposed to do, and never complains, and never gets in the way of her duties.)

She was already very distressed here, but it's a clear indication of how little she values herself. It was a motion to lose a part of herself just to reach the Genie, both for her stupid job, and possibly for the possibility of "freedom" from it all. And your average job these days—no matter how important you are to your cause—will drill it into you that your ability to be a good worker is infinitely more important than your existence as a person. It's easy to see how Ena may have internalized that.

And then she goes to the club one time and this happens

I won't get too deep into her dialogue with the NPCs here because I think their intention is pretty clear; Being in a place so antithetical to a work environment, and a place where she's supposed to let loose and have fun, is so distressing and impossible to even fathom for her that This Happens.

(see: "H-How can I leave this stupid event? M-my lame schedule is full,")

Like, everything at the Purge is insane, but this is a particularly heartbreaking line for me. One because of her job's shitty environment that's broken her down so much—do you think she EVER gets a break, because I sure don't—but also because of how it's conditioned her to not even believe she can "afford another minute of joy." Ena :[

Note how she's covered in these branches that started growing during Froggy's phone call, which look very similar to how she looks in this gag with the Shaman—it's literally her nervous system. In her scene with Mitu she even says she's feeling "sick," She's literally freaked out of her flipping Gourd with her goddamn Nerves On The Outside

Hell, even though Meanie's speaking (which, I mean, no shit, in another line she literally describes her job as "deplorable" 😭), these sprites in the files are actually labelled "Anxiety", suggesting that she's SO freaked out by being somewhere supposed to be so opposite to her work she's become another variant of herself, a la Drunk Ena from Season 1.

I won't get much more into this, because @cube-cumb3r has a PHENOMENAL post I'll link in the notes that goes deeper into this stuff from the Purge and the "Anxiety" thing, And also gets more into theory territory than I do here! Please please go read that post, it is so damn good.

In any case, I think the scenes with the Purge NPCs are the biggest examples in the whole game of how much she hates her fuckass job, yet she can't be allowed to be anything besides a wage slave to it. And just as she's internalized everybody in her world's dislike of her, she hates herself for it.

So:

We've established that Ena's shitty job parallels the real life work conditions that plague our world, and that these conditions have caused her to devalue herself and believe she can't have any reprieve from them... but, what even is her job?

Apparently she's a salesperson, but what is she even selling? She tries to offer a "divestment opportunity", and tells the Witches she can show them how to "grow [their] own [boss]" which definitely falls in line with the Sales thing, but besides that it's still not clear, even when she talks to Froggy.

I suppose the "grow their own boss" line does sound a lot like the phrasing used in MLM schemes, with how they lure people in by telling them they can "be their own boss." The Receptionist also calls Ena a scammer and a conman, so maybe she is a sort of scammer, but, I also don't exactly think the Receptionist think she has the most reliable opinions of Ena LOL

She also calls her a "pink-collar slug", pink collar meaning a job traditionally associated with women, which. ??? I don't fully know where to go with that.. like ...Nothing she does harkens to... Any kind of job expected to be done by women, imo?? Um. Yeah idk i just thought that may be significant??/ 😭😭😭😭 Listen man I can't know it all

Anyway. Maybe I'll be proven embarrassingly wrong when we receive more information in future chapters, but I think the lack of clarity on what she's supposed to be is representative of the games themes. The constant disrespect Ena receives makes her seem likely to be a low-tier worker, someone at the bottom of the ladder that people have no problems walking all over.

Because these types of jobs will treat you the same no matter who you are or what you're supposed to be doing. She's doing what the world tells her she needs to do in order to be a respected member of society, and yet she's also someone people feel comfortable treating poorly because she's at the bottom—because has no power of her own. It doesn't matter what she's supposed to be doing, it matters that she's the Wrong type of worker.

And how is she supposed to ever say anything for herself? It seems virtually baked into her Salesperson side to completely ignore past all the rude things these assholes say to her. After all, not only would that probably just make most people ruder to her (and impede her ability to complete jobs for them) isn't the customer always right?

...OK I will say her whole "Understood! Aim for the target!" line DOES seem like her overall job here is to fucking kill the Boss, but this is long enough already and the likely theme of Ena having a violent streak and whatnot is another beast entirely that I am NOT getting into here 😭😭

Besides, maybe she has no clearly defined job because we've already seen exactly what it is. To sell her life, time, and emotions to whatever all these clowns ask of her, and to receive no reward besides another goddamn job to do.

I think future chapters may delve more into Ena's true feelings on her situation, and possibly even how she'll get freedom from it. Allow me to mention the scenes with Theodora, wherein if you try to "aspire to receive a blissful life" Theodora just tells Ena "You can't aspire for more than what you are capable of." (LIKE OKAYYYY.... RUDE MUCH????)

Until, finally:

How is her mind—containing a desire for freedom—supposed to be in harmony with the letters it spits out, when she's been so conditioned that the only thing she's allowed to be is a worker?

Now, even I still have a lot of questions after this. Like: What has happened in Ena's past that made her this way? How and why did she take this job in the first place? What is up with the "Guys wait, I'm not doing what you say I'm doing" scene I literally didn't even mention that once here. Why should nobody be punished for being born except poor damn Ena, and does it relate to any of the themes I just talked about?

I... don't know. Like I actually truly have no idea. But I have confidence, even if it's in a delightfully vague and abstract Ena-typical way, that we'll find out eventually.

[skyahri]

One Bed |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, and Shikamaru Nara.

Summary: Classic one bed trope.

Warnings: Kissing. Bed sharing. Lead up to smut but no smut.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

It was shortly after the war.

The village was still recuperating from the loss, as was every other village, but there were still missions that needed to be fulfilled.

You were off to do some security work for the Daimyo, who had specifically requested the two of you to watch over his land while they rebuilt.

The only issue was that upon arrival, it wss revealed you'd be sharing a single room.

"You aren't the only ones to have suffered during the battle. Half of my property was destroyed!"

There wasn't much you could do, so you bit the bullet and followed one of the Ladies in Waiting to where you'll be staying.

One room? Whatever. One bed? Absolutely not.

You protested. It was inappropriate, even if you had known Sasuke for well over a decade at this point.

"We are low on resources at the moment, Y/L/N-san, Uchiha-san. It's why we have asked for your assistance in the first place."

You looked at Sasuke, who just gave you the same bored expression he always has.

You thanked the woman and began getting settled in your room. Sasuke offered to sleep on the floor, which you told him not to bother with.

You'd likely be here a few weeks, so it'd be best if you were both comfortable.

Sasuke was nice enough to let you shower first, which you'd gladly taken after two days' worth of travel.

He waited patiently for you to finish so he could prepare for bed as well. It was late, almost midnight, and he was tired.

It was awkward the first night. You'd slept uncomfortably back to back with this weird air around you.

You'd put on your most conservative pair of pajamas despite how warm the room was, and that only made things worse.

The second night wasn't much better.

But by the third night, you both grew tired of the tension. It was difficult to be fully rested when you'd slept terribly, so you formed some kind of unspoken, mutual respect for now.

You'd opted for your normal nighttime attire - a pair of shorts and thin t-shirt. You already felt better.

Sasuke, on the other hand, had been grateful for your prudish clothing. He had never said anything before, not that he had the time to, but he'd always been attracted to you.

Your revealing pajamas were not helping his comfort, so while you slept better that night, he did not.

Nor the next night.

Or the night after that.

By then, you'd become very aware of his antics. On top of being physically aware that he wasn't sleeping, you'd also become annoyed by his poor attitude.

He was already an ass as is, you really didn't need him sleep deprived on top of it.

So that night, as you lay in bed next to him, you roll onto your stomach and prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

"What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem."

"Really? Could've fooled me."

He tsked at you. Why'd you have to be so annoying?

You pushed yourself up so you'd be sitting on your knees, your hands flat on the bed so you could still lean forward to talk to him.

His eyes darted down to your chest before looking away entirely.

No way. There was absolutely no way.

"Are you... bothered by my clothes?"

"Don't be stupid." He snapped.

You tried to suppress a knowing smirk but failed.

So you leaned forward and kissed him.

Despite his surprise, he immediately responded to your kiss, going so far as to roll you over onto your back so he'd be on top of you.

"Maybe I am a bit bothered."

Kakashi Hatake

This is Kakashi’s first Kage Summit, and he asked you to be his plus one.

You accepted with no hesitation. You were anxious to get out of the village since the war ended and going out with Kakashi was sure to make it all the more interesting.

The summit was boring. That's a good thing compared to the last summit, but it still made you want to gouge your eyes out. They discussed the status of their villages and what sort of issues they'd been running into, blah blah blah.

When it was nearing midnight and everyone was growing tired, they agreed to call it a night and resume in the morning.

Everyone went to their respective quarters, but when you got to the Leaf Village's wing, there was only a single room with a bed.

Apparently, during the rebuild, they'd slipped up and only added a single room instead of the usual two, and no one had noticed (Thanks Sasuke).

It wasn't too big of a deal. You'd known Kakashi since your Genin days and slept in the same room plenty of times.

You were a bit surprised when he actually got into bed with you though.

Despite all those sleepovers, this was the first time you'd actually slept so close together.

You stared at him. Not on purpose, just happened to be doing so while your mind was racing.

"Is this an issue? I can sleep on the floor."

You shook your head.

"You sure? You were giving me quite the look."

"I was just... wondering what you'd look like under the mask."

You lied. You couldn't tell him how you were thinking about sleeping in bed with him and it's implications.

He snorted and did something that completely caught you off guard.

He pulled down his mask.

You blushed. How could you not? All these years, and he chooses now, the most random moment, to finally reveal such a wel kept secret.

And then he does something else that yo weren't expecting.

He leans forward and kisses you. You kiss back. He pulls away after a minute.

"I've been waiting to do that since we were teenagers."

You laugh at him, then pull him in for another kiss.

Shikamaru Nara

Shikamaru, being the lazy man he is, put off booking a room to stay in for so long that there was only a single room left st the inn.

You'd scolded him, and he took it, knowing he should've done it when he'd gotten the mission report.

The room was on the smaller side and contained only a single bed and dresser.

Neither of you were interested in sleeping on the floor for the next week, so you agreed to share the bed.

Something you wouldn't have done if you'd known Shikamaru was such a... uncharacteristically chaotic sleeper.

Seriously, he moved around more at night than he did during the entire day. Maybe it's all the pent up energy.

Within an hour of him knocking out, he was already sprawled out across most of the bed, leaving you two options: sleep on the edge or lay on him.

You tried to sleep in the bit of space he hadn't taken, really, but it seemed he was basically drawn to you.

You caved, allowing whatever was going to happen to happen, too tired to fight it any longer.

When Shikamaru eventually woke up, you were on his chest, one arm thrown over him and peacefully sleeping.

He got flustered and quickly tried to get out from under you, waking you in the process.

He was able to dart away without much suspension. Or at least he thought.

The next night was the same, minus the internal battle you'd had prior.

When Shikamaru woke up to the same dilemma, he decided it was best to fall asleep after you.

That night, he'd stayed awake under the guise of a mission report update for the Hokage.

You'd simply shrugged and gone to bed.

He followed when he was sure you were asleep, making sure each of you were on your respective sides of the bed.

He was surprised when he woke up with him on top you, head on your chest as if it was the most casual thing to happen.

He'd begin to stammer about, but stopped when you'd groaned.

"Settle down, would you?"

"I was just-"

"It's not that big of a deal, Shika, just go to sleep."

He listened to you, despite not understanding what was actually going on.

In the morning, he attempted to talk to you about it, but the conversation didn't quite go as planned.

"Yeah, you're a cuddler. Not much I can do about it, so it's whatever."

From then on, it slowly became more natural for your nights to get more personal, even once you'd gotten home.

[alwaysless]

Fellow William analyst, greetings! I hope you are well, I hope you don't mind a question/ask.

I am curious about your thoughts on the lack of reaction we see of Will at the "one life" reveal at the dinner scene, if you haven't already shared your thoughts before! We know Annabel wasn't shocked, but what about Will?

It took me longer to answer than I thought, sorry

I'm not sure I can say anything new, but yes, it's pretty damn suspicious. The composition of the frame stylized as broken glass, makes it easy to draw Will with everyone, and a frame later we see him with other panicking students, so RnF didn't show his reaction quite intentionally.

But I also want to talk about his behavior further. In the next episode, Will doesn't behave the way you expect him to. Given his weak-willed personality, it seems like he should be scared and overwhelmed by the prospect of a survival game (like Morella for example) but he's confused at best, and moreover, confused by everyone else's reactions. He even tries to justify the deans, basically gaslighting the rest of the students.

Will is not afraid, but he does not understand why others are. I have only two possible explanations: either he knew, or he just doesn't care, just like Annabel. Or maybe both.

Maybe he has played these games before. Maybe he doesn't plan to fight for a second life (at least not in Nevermore, again just like Annabel). Maybe because he is somehow connected with the academic staff with all his doll aesthetic, there is no second life for him in general, he just works there. There are many options, but here I would prefer to focus on his parallels with Annabel - two characters whose reactions we don't see in this frame.

This is actually not the only scene where they are absent, contrary to common sense. In episode 6 we see the merit board for the first time. Most of the names on it are blurred, but some can be distinguished. Among them are Lenore, Annabel, Duke, Morella, Ada, Prospero and Will. All of them, except Annabel and Will, are present in the room at this moment.

I wouldn't have paid much attention to this scene if it weren't for Prospero. Why is he there? He doesn't speak a single line, and we haven't been introduced to him as a character yet. His presence here is useless. So maybe the idea really was for all the characters whose names were visible on the board to be in the scene(or at least have already been introduced, like Annabel).

So what about Will? My main problem with shapeshifter characters is that they can be anyone, anywhere, at any point in the story. Especially if they can also create their own copies. He could have already been introduced and we just didn't notice.

Now let's talk about the games these kids love to play so much. We know that Annabel is a talented chess player, and Montresor constantly uses card game slang. But did you know that it was William Wilson from Poe's original story who was a cardsharper? I just think it's such an interesting detail. Nevermore`s Will has never been seen like this, but considering how much of a board game aesthetic this webtoon has, I think it's important to note this.

And finally, there is a similarity that also makes them very different: both Annabel and Will have ribbons as an essential symbol, but it has a completely opposite meaning for each of them. For Annabel, the ribbons are a symbol of madness, fear, and perhaps her golden cage. It appears in her hallucinations after Lenore's fake death, as well as when Ada shows her her main fear.

Will, on the other hand? The ribbons are his weapon. He uses them to tangle other people. Curious, although his spectre is obviously a marionette, he doesn't have a control bar for strings, he controls the strings himself (not always successful but still).

No matter how weak-willed Will is, he's the only one in Annabel's group who isn't influenced by her. She blackmails Montresor, Prospero respects her as a leader and friend, Ada admires and envies her. But she doesn't have anything on Will. In the chess allegory, he will obviously be a pawn (and I`ll write a whole post about it, I swear), but not Annabel's pawn. I have an idea that sooner or later, Montresor will think of using Will to find dirt on Annabel in revenge. After all, given their spectre abilities, it's easier for them to find out lenabel's secret.

So, let's summarize what we found. Absolutely nothing. This post turned out to be longer than I had planned, because I was a little carried away, but I hope you found something interesting for yourself in this stream of thoughts.

Here, take funny little Will everyone. He deserves to be noticed.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Thinking about bodyguard!Miguel O’Hara who insisted on waiting for you in the corner of the room while you did the table reading, rather than go wait in the car or around the lot like the rest of the cast’s personal security did.

Bodyguard!Miguel whose eyes never left your presence, it took you a minute to shake off the feeling, you always felt his eyes burning holes into your back when you were doing something and he couldn’t be right next to you. But after a while, you finally got yourself into the groove of the script material.

Bodyguard!Miguel who-despite mentally checking out ten pages into the script-was still able to pick some stuff up. It was a romance, he wasn’t surprised, since romcoms tend to sky rocket careers these days.

It was a period piece. Your character, who was named Anastasia, was a princess who was coming near the time where she had to be married off to someone else at a neighboring kingdom to be crowned as their queen, the problem is, that your character’s heart already belongs elsewhere, in the hands of one of the royal guards who worked in the castle.

That was all Miguel had really picked up.

Bodyguard!Miguel who finally tones back in when the reading was finished, hearing the head director tell everyone about how they’ll be receiving their schedules through their managers, before dismissing everyone (not before having everyone sign his copy of the script so that the marketing team can post it to social media later).

Bodyguard!Miguel who was about to make his way towards you so he could escort you home, but stopped when he saw your coworker who plays the love interest , Peter B. Parker come up to you to properly introduce himself.

—

“Why hello Anastasia.” Peter said as he came up to you with the friendliest smile you’ve ever seen, to which you quickly returned, both of you shaking hands with your free hands as the other held your respective scripts.

“Sir Tristan.” You giggled, calling him by his character name, before pulling your hand out from his. “I’m excited to work with you, I hope you feel the same.”

“Of course I am! Always ready to act with new and fresh faces-“ his phone starts to ring in his pocket, cutting him off, taking out to read the screen before looking back up at you. “I gotta take this, but I’ll keep in touch, I’ll have my manager send you my number in case you ever want tips, or to run lines over.” He told you, tucking his script under his armpit, giving you a quick wave before slipping out of the (now mostly empty) room, answering as he left.

You finally turned and headed to Miguel, who was now waiting by the door, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you. Neither of you spoke until you were in the parking lot, that’s when Miguel finally broke the silence.

“So… Parker huh?” It was obvious Miguel had to be a bit familiar with Peter’s work, who wouldn’t be though. He was a big star at the moment, having just come off from the Spider-Man films. Still, you weren’t sure what he meant by that, but you nodded and let out a small “mhm” anyways.

—

Part 1<

Part 3<

Not proofread.

Word count:500

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @miguelzslvtz @scaleniusrm @xerorizz @enananawoah @messicampeon @anastasia1972 @lauraolar14 (if you want to be added click here, it’s easier for me then asking in the comments☺️)

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Your last fic was so good! I return once again, i meed more of my husband.

Can we get some soft fluffy smut with per'tah? Maybe the first time they are finally intimate with each other? Can be part of the series or stand alone.

Love ya 😘

woven bonds- pert'ah (orc oc) smut

part 6 of woven bonds and smut

pert'ah x fem reader

water-lillie you keep me sane

tags/warnings- over the time you two have been together his english has gotten better, arranged marriage, human female x male orc, gentle giant, your together!, smut, very gentle man but hes huge so its still rough, heavy illusions to the idea of pregnancy, no condom obvi, virginity taking (on both sides) hes actually a total tease, pert'ah has a frenum piercing

also, feel free to request non-woven bonds-related things that involve pert'ah or my other ocs (see my masterlist) i love writing for all these characters and seeing the mass of support I've gotten over the last month!

i need to learn to stop writing so much- 3739 words

The night was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the wind outside the small home you now shared with Pert’ah. The hearth had died down to embers, casting a gentle, warm glow across the room. You could still hear the faint crackling of the last burning logs as you sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the woven blankets beneath your fingers.

Pert'ah was quiet, too, standing near the window, his broad back to you as he gazed out into the night. The silence between you both wasn’t the uncomfortable kind it had once been. After weeks of tentative conversations and quiet gestures, the distance between you two had shrunk. And yet, tonight felt different. Intimate in a way that made your heart race.

“Are you… ready for sleep?” Pert'ah’s deep voice broke the stillness, the hint of uncertainty in his words unusual for him.

You nodded slowly, your eyes drifting toward the space beside you. “Yes....im tired"

The truth was, you had grown used to Pert'ah sleeping on the floor beside the bed, wrapped in his own blanket. He had never pushed for more, always respecting the distance you’d initially demanded. But tonight, you had quietly asked him to sleep beside you. The words had caught in your throat, but they had come out, and he had agreed without question.

Pert'ah approached the bed cautiously, as if not wanting to spook you. His steps were quiet for someone his size, his large, rough hands moving carefully as he pulled back the blanket and slid in beside you. The bed felt smaller now with him in it, his presence all-encompassing and warm.

You lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the heat of his body beside you. His breathing was slow, steady, and somehow calming.

After a few moments, you turned to face him. “Pert’ah?”

He shifted, turning his head to look at you, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. “Yes?”

“Tell me more about your past,” you said softly. “We’ve been together for a while now, but… I still don’t know much about where you come from.”

Pert’ah let out a slow breath, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite read. “My past… is not so interesting. I am… simple man.” He paused, his hand resting near yours on the bed, his fingers curling slightly as if he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should.

“I was born into weaving,” he continued. “My family, we make many things. Cloth, art. From when I am small, I learn to use my hands to create.” His voice grew softer as he spoke, a far-off look in his eyes. “My father, he teach me much. Say that strong hands can create just as much as they can destroy.”

His gaze shifted to you, and the look in his eyes made your heart stutter.

“And you?” you asked quietly. “What do you want to create… with me?”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your combined breathing. Then, Pert'ah’s large hand slid across the blanket, covering yours gently. His touch was warm, comforting, and his fingers entwined with yours as if they were always meant to fit together.

“With you?” he repeated, his voice low, thoughtful. “I want to create… peace. Home.” His thumb brushed the back of your hand, his touch tentative but sincere. “I want to make you happy. Want you to feel safe with me.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten. You shifted closer to him, your fingers tightening around his as you rested your head on his shoulder. For so long, you had resisted, keeping him at arm’s length, but now, lying here with him, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“I think… I’m starting to feel that way,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “With you.”

Pert'ah’s arm wrapped around you slowly, carefully, as though he feared breaking the fragile moment. His hand rested on your back, holding you close. You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath your ear.

“I never thought I would end up here,” you murmured. “With you. I never thought I’d…” You trailed off, unsure how to put your feelings into words.

But Pert'ah understood. He always did.

“We are here now,” he said softly, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “We can...make future together.”

You looked up at him, meeting his golden eyes. “What kind of future do you want?”

His eyes softened, his tusked smile gentle. “One where you smile more. Where we work together. You and me… mates.”

It was a simple answer, but it made your heart swell. The life you had imagined for yourself before seemed distant now, irrelevant. What mattered was the man beside you, the quiet strength in his words and the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

You shifted again, tilting your head up until your lips brushed his. The kiss was slow, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened, the space between you disappearing completely as his arms tightened around you.

When you finally pulled away, your breath mingling with his, you smiled softly. “I think… I’d like that future, too.”

Pert'ah’s smile widened, his rough fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face, his sparkling golden eyes looking down at yours he leans down, and when he doesnt see you pull back, connects, pressing his lips to yours

you kiss back, his tusks feel uncomfy against your lips, but you'll manage, its all worth it for him, you lightly press your hands against his leather sleep tunic, he had sewn two matching ones for the both of you so you had a more comfortable rest on the furs.

you pull back, looking up at him with a sweet loving smile, but one that would never compare to the one he gave back, all that man did was love you

Pert'ah's eyes lit up when you kissed him back, a warmth spreading through his chest at your acceptance. He could feel the slight discomfort of his tusks, but the way you willingly leaned into his touch, despite them, filled him with a deep longing to cherish and protect you.

As you pulled back and smiled up at him, Pert'ah's gaze followed yours, drinking in the sweetness of the moment. His smile grew wider, mirroring yours, but the intensity behind it made you feel like you were the only person in the world. His hands framed your face, gently tracing the curves of your cheeks with his thumbs, as if to memorise every detail. "You are beautiful," he said, the words coming from a place deep within his soul, his voice filled with a sincerity that left him breathless, He leaned in once more, this time tenderly pressing his forehead against yours, savoring the closeness.

The softness of the moment hung between you, a palpable energy that seemed to fill the air with anticipation. Pert'ah's heart pounded against your chest, a rhythmic reminder of the love he felt for you. His lips grazed your temple, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your jawline, seeking permission to continue exploring the contours of your face.

And then, there was no hesitation; his mouth claimed yours, demanding nothing but surrender as his tongue danced with yours in a sensual waltz. Time lost meaning as the world narrowed to the two of you, suspended in a sea of desire and affection. When he finally released your lips, Pert'ah's chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath hot against your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than anything, I need you."

In that instant, Pert'ah knew that he would move mountains, cross oceans, and defy fate itself to ensure that you remained by his side forevermore. Your love was his anchor, his guiding star, and his reason for existing. As he cradled your face in his palms, Pert'ah vowed to spend eternity cherishing and adoring you, unwavering in his devotion to the mate he had found in you.

you pulled lightly on his tunic, and with a look into your loving eyes, he gets the hint, pulling his shirt off, pulling your lips against his again

Pert'ah's tunic fell away, revealing the strong contours of his chest and the softness of his skin beneath. The warmth of his body radiated towards you, drawing you in like a magnet. As you pressed your lips against his, the sensation of his skin against yours sent shivers down your spine, igniting a flame of desire that threatened to consume you.

Their lips moved in tandem, a sensual dance of tongues and breaths that left them both gasping for air. Pert'ah's hands cradled your face, his thumbs caressing the delicate skin of your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. The gentle touch belied the intensity of his emotions, the love and longing evident in every caress.

As you kissed, Pert'ah's fingers danced over your body, exploring every curve and contour as if mapping your very soul. His hands roamed under your nightgown, finding the soft flesh of your stomach, your breasts, and your thighs, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin and burying his nose in the tender spot between your collarbone and shoulder.

"Mine..my wife" he whispered, the single word echoing through your mind like a promise, a vow, a declaration of love. In that moment, you belonged to him, and he to you, bound together by threads of passion and devotion.

As the kiss lingered, Pert'ah's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer until you were flush against him. your bodies molded together seamlessly, fitting like pieces of a puzzle designed specifically for yours alone. The contact sparked a firestorm of sensations, each brush of skin against skin amplifying the intimacy and urgency of your embrace.

Time stood still as you clung to each other, lost in the swirling vortex of desire and affection. Nothing existed beyond the confines of your little bubble, where the world melted away, leaving only the pulsating rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

you kiss at his jaw and temple, playing with his hair as his kisses your neck, bruising your throat with marks, you pull your own tunic off and if he could be any more excited, he would explode, looking down at your body, your tits, your waist, your tummy, thighs and what laid between them, your sweet core

The sight of your exposed skin seemed to hypnotize Pert'ah. His eyes traveled over your curves, drinking in the beauty of your naked form, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing second. The bruises on your throat added a depth of color to the canvas of your neck, a testament to the intensity of his emotions.

His fingers traced the outline of your waist, tracing the shape of your belly button, and the gentle rise of your thighs. He couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of your body, every inch of which he had come to adore. Each kiss, each touch, each whisper of breath against his skin sent waves of desire crashing through him like a tide.

Without breaking eye contact, Pert'ah slowly lowered his head, his lips grazing your breast. His mouth closed around your nipple, sucking softly as his tongue began to circle the bud, drawing it into the wet cavern of his mouth. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core, your inner muscles clenching in anticipation.

As he explored your body, Pert'ah's hands roamed over your skin, mapping every contour and valley, tracing the lines of your veins and the tender curve of your collarbone. Every touch, every caress, every kiss sent ripples of pleasure through you, building upon themselves until you felt like you might burst apart from sheer joy.

Lost in the haze of desire, Pert'ah didn't notice when needy tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, nor did he realize that your nails dug gently into his scalp as you arched into his touch. All he saw was the radiant beauty of your face, bathed in moonlight, illuminated by the pure, raw emotion emanating from your very pores.

"pert'ah…please…more" you plead, squirming, tugging at his hair lightly, you needed more than gentle licks, nothing about this would be light, no matter how hard he tried, but you were okay with that

Pert'ah's ears perked up at the pleading in your voice, and he lifted his head to look at you with a question in his eyes. Seeing your desperation, he smiled, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes. He knew exactly what you wanted, and he was more than happy to oblige.

His tongue flicked out, teasing your nipple with slow, deliberate strokes, drawing out a sharp intake of breath from you. You arched into his touch, your body aching for more, and Pert'ah responded eagerly.

His mouth closed around your nipple once more, this time applying gentle suction, then harder and harder, until the pressure became almost unbearable. He pinched the other nipple with his fingers, the dual sensations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Pert'ah's hands slipped down your stomach, his fingers dancing over the tender skin, exploring every dip and curve, before finding their way to the swollen nub between your thighs. He pressed a finger against you, and you gasped as he applied gentle pressure, circling the sensitive tissue in rhythmic motions.

The world narrowed to a pinpoint as he continued to tease and taunt you, the sensations building to a crescendo within you. The tightness in your abdomen coiled tighter and tighter, threatening to unleash a torrent of release.

Just as you teetered on the brink, Pert'ah withdrew his fingers, leaving you panting and desperate for more. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched you writhe in frustration, knowing full well the effect he had on you.

"Don't worry..my love," he purred, leaning forward to capture your lips in another searing kiss. "I haven't forgotten about you."

you squirm in his touch as he pulls back, sitting back to look at his work, the glistening slick that covered your cunt like a thin film, watching you pant and plead with your eyes, he leans back on his knees and takes his cock out from behind his loin cloth, giving you a show as he pulls his foreskin back, revealing his sheen-green tip which leaked precum down onto his silver frenum piercing

Pert'ah's showy display had you squirming in place, your eyes fixed on his erect member as he stroked himself slowly, the motion drawing your gaze to the glisten of precum that trickled down his shaft, pooling at the base of his penis.

The sight of his erect cock made your mouth water, your inner thighs slickening further in response, the need to feel him inside you reaching a fever pitch. Your fingers involuntarily drummed a rhythm on his leg, urging him to take action.

His golden eyes sparkled with mischief, a challenge in his gaze that he knew you wouldn't be able to resist. He leaned forward, his hand wrapping around your thigh, fingers closing around your calf as he gently but firmly drew your leg up.

"I'm ready when you are, my love," he purred,

you nod, spread and ready for him, he his breath hot against your neck as he slowly dragged his member through the slick folds of your pussy, the tip parting your labia and brushing against your clit.

The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your lower body singing in delight as he began to rock his hips, slowly pushing his cock deeper into your depths. The sensation of him sliding inside you, the feeling of him filling you completely, was indescribable, aside from heaven and a little (alot) painful

Pert'ah's movements were slow and deliberate, allowing you to adjust to his size, his cock slowly sinking deeper into your slickened core. He knew he had to be gentle, careful not to push too hard, too fast, not yet. He could feel your body tensing up around his, the gentle pain of entry easing as you began to relax.

With a tender touch, Pert'ah cradled your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes, seeing the mix of pain and pleasure there. "You okay, love?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle rumble as he paused in his movements, waiting for your response.

You nodded, taking a deep breath, the pain giving way to pleasure as he started to rock his hips again, his cock sliding in and out of your depths in a steady rhythm, each thrust deeper and more precise, easing you into a comfortable cadence.

Pert'ah's fingers began to trace the outline of your breasts, his touch soft and soothing, drawing your attention to the sensations building within you, making it difficult to focus on anything else besides the pleasure coursing through your body.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice warm and encouraging as he continued to move inside you, filling you completely, stretching you deliciously tight around his shaft.

Pert'ah watched as you stared down at the scene below, your eyes widening as you saw his cock moving in and out of your depths, leaving a trail of wetness and evidence of your shared pleasure. A lump formed in your stomach, and Pert'ah's heart skipped a beat as he realized you were struggling to process this new sensation, this newfound intimacy between you.

His movements slowed, and he lifted your chin, forcing your gaze back up to his. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked again, concern etched in his voice, his golden eyes searching for any sign of distress or discomfort.

As he spoke, Pert'ah continued to move inside you, gentle but insistent, sensing that he needed to ease your mind, reassure you that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to be sure you knew that this was a good thing, that he was here for you, with you, and that he was going to cherish and love you for as long as you'd allow him.

His hands continued their gentle exploration of your breasts, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the hardness of his body, yet somehow perfectly balanced, creating a rhythm that was both soothing and exhilarating, keeping you grounded as you navigated this uncharted territory.

"Y-you're doing...oh fuck..youre doing amazing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, his words dripping with sincerity, encouraging you to continue embracing this new aspect of your relationship, to revel in the raw power of your physical bond.

Slowly, Pert'ah began to pick up speed, his thrusts becoming more deliberate, more purposeful, driving deeper into your depths, filling you entirely, stretching you in ways you hadn't experienced before. Every stroke brought you closer to release, building pressure in your core, threatening to unleash a torrent of pleasure unlike anything you'd ever known.

As he reached the brink of climax, Pert'ah stilled, his body tensing, his hips locked tight against yours, his eyes fixed intently on yours, waiting for permission to finish what he started. "w-where...where can i..?" he huffs, squelches echoing through his cabin with each heavy thrust, his eyes were heavy, lidded as he glanced down at the imprint he formed your stomach as he thrusted inside

"shit...your...you're so gorgeous...gonna..fi-fill you up...make you a mama.." his word go straight to your core, and it just gushes, you spray all over his stomach and cock, showering him in your squirt

the room around him seemed to melt away, replaced by the primal urge to claim you as his own, to brand you with his mark, to show the world you were his and only his.

As Pert'ah watched, mesmerized, the sight of your gushing fluids splashing against his stomach and the base of his cock, his mind was reeling. This was real, this was happening, he could have a family. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and possessiveness course through his veins.

He let out a satisfied grunt as his orgasm washed over him, his body jerking in reaction, his cock spilling its load deep inside you. The warmth of your inner walls enveloped him, milking him dry, and he collapsed against you, spent but elated.

In that moment, nothing else existed except the two of them, lost in the throes of passion, bound by the threads of their desires and needs. Pert'ah's thoughts swirled with visions of the future, of growing families, of children playing under the sun-kissed skies, of laughter and tears, of memories forged in the fire of their love.

you cry out as he overflows your cunt with his seed, pert'ah heaves and drops down on top of you, panting and whispering praises in aftershock of his first time, you smile softly, snuggling into the bed once again, not caring about the sticky between your legs, you would clean in the morning

As Pert'ah's breathing slowed, his weight shifted, and he curled around you, enveloping you in the warmth of his body. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, as if to keep you from ever escaping, to make sure you stayed right where he wanted you.

He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of you. "Mine," he whispered again, the word becoming a mantra as his lips brushed against your scalp.

You felt his heart beating against yours, a steady drumbeat that echoed the rhythm of your own. The comfort of his embrace washed over you, chasing away any lingering doubts or fears. In this moment, there was no denying the power of his claim, the intensity of his possession. You were his, and he was yours, bound together in a dance of love, lust, and desire.

As the silence deepened, the only sound the soft rise and fall of your shared breathing, Pert'ah's hands roamed your body, tracing the curves, the contours, the lines. Each touch was a reassurance, a promise of the pleasures to come, of the life they would build together.

I am TIRED

[pinkaditty]

He Knows

(Subaru Kagami x MC X Haku Kusanagi; Tokyo Debunker)

omg guess who's back!!!!! im posting porn as per usual. 2day's porn is about tokyo debunkers!! recently started playing that game and WOW haku kusanagi has stolen my heart holy shit man. i picked him and then proceeded 2 watch him jump off a burning ledge it was really something!!! anyways the more of him i saw the more of him i just ended up liking. like when i found out he's left handed i jus melted on impact bro wtf's wrong with me. anyways here have the result of my 72 hour long haku kusanagi brainrot: porn.

summary: haku's been avoiding you. it's because you're with subaru all the damn time. it's only at a party where you're in close proximity that things get... interesting.

a/n: note that the tokyo debunkers characters have no confirmed ages. i am running on the assumption that, since they refer to themselves as adults in the game, drink, smoke, and gamble that they are at least in the college student age range. also, i have never heard of a high school with a chancellor. typically it's universities that have those. i am running on the assumption that all characters are at least 18 years of age. if canon ages come out and turn out to be lower, i will delete this! thank you <3

cw: MINORS DNI, suggestive, no real smut happening but u get kinda close, mostly buildup tbh, self-indulgent (pls like this i spent hours writing it), gn!mc bc mc isn't described physically at all, strongly implied sexual relations, semi-public?, slight cucking if u wanna call it that?, subaru x reader x haku yea

MINORS DNI!!!!! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY. THANK YOU.

Casino parties in Sinostra were a lot different from Frostheim parties. 

Where Frostheim parties were the peak of elegance; blue and white and silver, the mood just as frosty as the scenery, the dress code limited to the finest silks and satins, the food limited to the neatest hors d'oeuvres, and the conversation limited to humble whispers; Sinostra parties were the peak of gaucheness; all colors gaudy and neon, the mood joyful and jubilant and raunchy, the dress code ranging from evening dresses to last week’s uniform, the food being whatever was served at the nearest table, and the conversation loud and constantly overlapping. If you asked Haku, he didn’t have a preference. Parties were parties. It didn’t matter what kind.

He was here to have a good time. That was somewhat dampened when he realized he’d have no choice but to hang around you. He’d been avoiding you for a reason, after all.

It had been recently when he realized why his heart thrummed like a drum when you were nearby, the beat loud and monotonous in his ears. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one he’d scarcely felt, and when he realized what it was, he almost didn’t believe it was genuine. Sure, you were attractive, but all his flirting was, at best, to get your attention and to mess with someone cute. Who doesn’t like attention from an attractive person? He blew it off for the longest time, chalking it up to nerves at how you would respond to his brazen flirting, or perhaps surprise when you would talk to him with a sincere glint in your eye. It was crazy, falling for someone who might be doomed to die, but it was like he couldn’t help himself. Something about how you kept going, even despite that, accepting your potential fate but seeking a way to rewrite it all the same—it impressed him. You had the resilience of a ghoul, a will strong enough to devour a curse. So be it. He promised to himself from the moment he saw Taiga attempt to throw you out of the train window that he wouldn’t let you succumb to such horrors just yet. He had thought that, with the mesmer matches, his promise would be fulfilled. But when your eyes shined with recognition upon meeting his gaze again on that train, he knew he’d bitten off far more than he could chew. So be it. His fate was sealed, as it always had been. 

And, of course, like any romance story, you’d gotten quite close with another guy, Subaru. The odd pangs in his heart rang quite clear through his head when he saw the two of you walking together on campus yet again, or sitting together at mealtimes yet again, or when you’d come by Hotarubi to visit him yet again. He felt childish, feeling an odd jealousy bubbling up in him that he immediately tried to tamp down. He didn’t like feeling that way, not at all. He figured he’d have to rid himself of this somehow, so he distanced himself. Yet, the pull towards you was still strong and hard to ignore.

And then he started falling for you, harder, even after he’d implemented distance, completely unplanned. So, yeah, being here with you after weeks of attempting to avoid your presence after such a revelation was something of a downer. And, super awkward. But whatever, he could take it. He didn’t want to walk aimlessly around this party and see something he shouldn’t, so he was stuck with his dormmates, particularly Subaru, who was stuck—albeit, happily—with you. 

The party was going alright so far. The alcohol had given him a light buzz, enough to at least alleviate his nerves, and relax just slightly. He sank into the couch he sat on, adjacent to the bar. Next to him was Subaru, next to Subaru was Zenji, and next to Zenji was you. At least there was some distance, but his eyes met yours in fleeting glances quite often. It was minimally frustrating, but the buzz helped him ignore it. You were engaged in friendly, flamboyant conversation with Zenji, Subaru seemed a little shifty, though that could be chalked up to being in a loud environment, and Haku was leaning back, swirling his drink in his hands. The endless noise of loud voices and gambling wins and losses echoed in his ears as he did all he could to refrain from indulging much more. But your presence wasn’t exactly helping. 

He turned back to you, to give you another fleeting glance, but his eyes landed on Subaru instead. He seemed a little out of it, his skin shining in the low light with a thin layer of sweat, his breathing heavy and laboured, his face flushed a bright pink. Haku stared at him curiously, concern creasing his eyebrows and quirking his lips downwards. He reached a hand out to gently pat Subaru on the shoulder, who flinched suddenly. Haku looked at him quizzically, his eyebrows furrowing further. “You good?” He examined Subaru’s condition further, noticing his bangs beginning to stick to his forehead from the sweat. “Do we need to leave?”

Haku’s mumbled queries gained the attention of Zenji, who glanced over his shoulder. Upon seeing Subaru’s state, he frets, turning towards him and grabbing his chin, tilting his head back and forth. Haku wished he wouldn’t do that, and hoped onlookers assumed Subaru was just shaking his head. Not that anyone would be looking in this direction, anyway. He notices you curiously peering over Zenji’s shoulder. You showed no signs of concern, rather interest.

“Oh my! Are you alright? You’re quite flushed!” Zenji’s voice was pitched with worry, as he further examined Subaru’s face. “Did you perhaps—ah, but you’re not holding anything…” Zenji tapped his fingers to his lips, his eyebrows furrowing with concern. Subaru shook his head at both Zenji and Haku, and waved his hand.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Haku heard a slight tremor in Subaru’s voice.

“Are you sure?” Zenji pressed, leaning towards Subaru, his eyes searching his face for any signs of further ailment.

“I’m fine! Please, enjoy yourselves.” To his credit, Subaru hid the tremor this time, but Haku could still sense something was wrong. However, he decided to let it go, assuming that they wouldn’t be here much longer. 

He took note of your lack of concern. He found it odd, but didn’t think on it much. You were close with Subaru, but maybe not as close as he thought. He hated how the thought of the two of you not being as close planted a seed of hope in his heart. Still, wasn’t concern a normal reaction to a friend being ill?

Haku let it go. They’d be out of here soon, anyway. 

Time seems to crawl by and speed up at the same time, the chaotic haze of the party warping his perception of time. Before he knows it, he’s on his second drink, even after internally swearing he wouldn’t overindulge. And before he knows it, he’s lost count of how many times he’s glanced your way, each time holding your gaze longer than the last. His pining was ridiculous. He felt like a teenager. And the drink in his hand was only a reminder of his low self-control, further shaming him. He sighs and places it down on the table in front of the couch, promptly leaning back in his seat. Once he falsely settles in, his finds his eyes drifting to you again. He quickly snaps his gaze away, but not before he spots Subaru’s quivering figure out of the corner of his eye. He turns to him again, concern once again etching itself into his expression. 

Subaru was trembling now, slouching just slightly, which was unlike him. His chest heaved with the effort to breathe normally, and he was sweating more now, more of his bangs stuck to his forehead. Instead of the modest blush pink his face had been before, he was now a bright red, color spreading from his cheeks to his ears and even to his neck. Alright, this was too much. Even Haku knew Subaru was pushing himself too far. He sat upright and gently placed a hand on Subaru’s back, to which he flinched again. Haku’s concern quickly turned to worry, and his hand moved to Subaru’s shoulder instead, leaning closer to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of him. “Hey, Subaru.” Subaru turned to him, still heaving and blinking at him blearily. “...We should go.” Subaru promptly shook his head, despite his body still trembling. The movement alerted Zenji yet again, who turned to Subaru, noticing his trembling form.

“My goodness, look at you!” Zenji grabbed Subaru’s face, squishing his cheeks. “Are you well? Do we need to take you to Montkranken?” Haku sighed as Subaru shook his head again, stubborn as a mule on this.

“N-No, I swear I’m fine, truly.” His voice shook audibly. Haku had half a mind to take him to Montkranken by force, but knew that no good would come of making Subaru any more uncomfortable. 

Zenji hesitantly let go of Subaru’s face, staring at him dubiously. He carefully inspected him, checking his complexion and forehead. As Zenji flitted back and forth around Subaru, Haku found his gaze once again slipping towards you. This time he didn’t stop it, deciding to let it go so he could hold your gaze at least once more before he shifted his full focus to Subaru. However, he notices you aren’t looking at Subaru, or Zenji, or him. You’re staring off to the left, as though watching the people of the party. He’s confused. Why are you so nonchalant about this? Even before, no concern was on your face, mere interest. And now, it’s like you couldn’t care less. It didn’t seem quite like you not to care about one of your friends. It was quite confusing and frustrating, watching you act so nonchalantly, hardly noticing Subaru’s ailment. But, whatever. Maybe you were just distracted. As he turns his gaze back to Subaru, about to gently encourage him to stand so they could leave, he notices your hand moving out of the corner of his eye. Your hand disappears into your pocket and shifts a bit more. Simultaneously, Subaru lurches forward, grunting. His whole body was trembling now, and his fingers dug into his arms as he desperately tried to keep it together. Zenji immediately leans over, placing a hand on Subaru’s back. Haku feels a rush of panic and leans towards him. “Subaru! What’s—”

Haku stops in his tracks. On the side of Subaru’s neck, facing Haku, there were small red and purple bruises. For a moment, Haku’s confused. What are those markings on the side of his neck? And what’s got him so—

Out of nowhere, something clicks. 

As Zenji continues fussing over Subaru, Haku slowly lifts his gaze to you. He finds your gaze boring straight into him. A shock runs down his spine. 

No. No way.

Haku watches as you smirk at him and you pull something out of your pocket, purposely angling the object so only he could see it. It is something very closely resembling a remote. His eyes flick between the remote and your face, your eyes still holding him captive. He tears his gaze away from you and the remote, and turns to Subaru’s trembling form, Zenji fussing over him. He turns back to you, observing the wicked smile on your face. This can’t be real, right?

He watches as your smirk widens, and you press a button on the remote, slipping it back into your pocket. 

Subaru groans, crumpling further forward, immediately pressing a hand to his mouth to muffle his voice. Haku studies him carefully, watching his expression. Subaru’s eyes roll back just once and the corner of his lips turn upwards in a smile, peeking behind his palm pressed tight against his mouth. 

Oh. Oh god.

Something akin to heat pools in Haku’s lower abdomen. He finds himself gripping the cushion of the sofa he’s sitting on so hard his knuckles turn white. Haku swallows thickly, and jerks his gaze back up to you, finding your gaze boring straight into him once again. Subaru’s muffled grunts grow louder, and now that he knows it’s out of pleasure and not pain, Haku feels the urge to squirm. He feels warm all of a sudden, his own body beginning to tremble with nerves and heat. His lips part as he breathes heavily, his gaze flickering from you, to your pocket, to Subaru, and back to you. Maybe it was a bad idea to have so much alcohol. Your gaze, the knowledge of what was really going on, and Subaru’s grunts—which were quickly evolving into moans, further confusing Zenji—all made quite a potent concoction, and with the alcohol running through his system, it really only served to shame him further yet again. 

Shame is all he can think about… Even as a tent forms in his pants.

a/n: YIPPEE!!!!!!! i finished at long last

also here have this fuckass meme i made thinkging abt all the fics im writing atm:

i guess i have a niche. my roommate literally asked me as i was telling her abt this fic "is it gonna be cuckold" and i was like "WHATEKSLSJK?!?!?!??!" and then i realized. i write a lot of these fics and call them all self-indulgent. is something wrong with me?

anyways wrapping this up!!!!!!! note that i appreciate likes, reblogs, and comments!!! please, tell me all about how much you enjoyed my work, if you did!!!! i really like when people tell me they loved it bc it encourages me 2 keep going ahhhh!!! until next time, readers!!!!!

[lavandulawrites]

plzz.. yandere sunday x reader 🙏🙏🙏

A Crimson Dream

Yandere Sunday x reader

Sunday is truly an interesting character. I absolutely adore his eerie vibe.

Masterlist

Warnings: Imprisoned reader, manipulative Sunday, severed limb (not reader’s nor Sunday’s)

Word count: 892

The parlour was dimly lit except for some candles and the exquisite decorated fireplace. The book in your hand had long become boring. You casted a glance across the lavish room. By a perfectly polished mahogany desk, sat Sunday. His face bore a concerted expression. His brows furrowed in a delicate frown as his long fingers gripping a violet fountain pen to the point of almost breaking. He was truly beautiful.

You watched him silently as he wrote. He was a man of elegance, his every movement fluid and planned. “My dare dove, I am so very flattered that you have taken your time to observe me for 15 minutes, but do you not think you should continue reading?” his honeyed voice snapped you out of your little trance.

You swallowed. “I suppose so.”

His yellow eyes found yours. “I think it is time for a break for the both of us” he rose from his chair and made his way over to your seat with long and elegant steps. He placed his gloved hand in front of you and smiled so very sweetly.

His grip on your hand was tight as you walked towards the dining hall. He gave you small glances, while he maintained his graceful demeanour.

A servant opened up the grand doors upon your arrival, with a deep bow.

He leaded you to your designated seating and held out your chair. “I got the chef to prepare something extra exquisite today my dear” he smiled as he took his seat. You interest picked at his statement.

“I can’t wait” you smiled. He had told you the very day that he had you taken to his mansion that you were expected to follow his rules. Which contained of you talking to him with respect.

His pale lips pulled up into a smile. The wings behind his ears fluttered.

You turned your attention to the crystal wine glass filled with blood red wine. The wine reflected your expression. Your eyes had become slightly duller since you had been taken to Sunday’s residence.

The door to the kitchen suddenly opened, which startled you greatly. Sunday chuckled at your reaction. Where it not for his eerie eyes and the unreadable expression of his, the sound would be akin to a gift bestowed upon your pitiful ears from the gods.

A silver dish with a nightingale engraved cloche where sat in front of you. A identical one where placed in front of Sunday. The chef bowed with his hand on his back “I hope it is to your tastes.”

“Oh I am sure it is. Thank you” Sunday smiled. With a wave of his hand he dismissed all the servants, as well as the chef. His gloves where no where to be seen as he lifted the lid of his dish. A delicate arranged lamb dish. “It smells lovely” Sunday hummed as he inhaled the scent.

You extended your arm in order to lift the lid. With a slightly shaky hand, you lifted the lid. Why was your hand shaking?

No.

No this can’t be.

On a blank silver plate in a bed of the greenest lettuce, laid the head of your former boyfriend. His green eyes staring blankly at yours. His brown hair where styled in a perfect sliced back hair style, giving him the appearance of a aristocrat. Which was the opposite of the man you knew. In his mouth were a white rose tainted by blood.

You screamed and pushed your chair back. Your heart hammered in your chest. You could feel bile rising up in your throat.

“What is the matter, love?” Sunday patted his mouth with a clothed napkin. “Do you not like it? I had the chef prefer it especially for you” he tilted his head with a soft smile. His voice as soft as the feathers off his wings.

“How… how could you?” your voice shaky as you furiously tried to blink away tears. The grey haired man looked at you with a intense expression.

“Do you not understand? He was once a hindrance, a disturbance of the harmony” his lips twisted into a eerie smile. “But I rid the world of the disturbance in order to create peace and harmony. For you.”

He rose from his chair and stalked his way over to your seat with determined, but fluid steps. “You are too innocent for this world, too kind. He was a distraction from my love” his golden eyes filled with nothing but obsession and insanity.

Tears rolled down the apple of your cheeks, creating wet rivers. He crunched in front of you and took your hand in his. “Do not cry my dear. Everything is okay now. I will protect you and give you happiness and love” his smile never leaving his expression. A cold hand wiped away your tears so tenderly it almost made you cry more. “Should someone ever try to take you away, I will burn this planet to the ground” his tone smooth “Would it not be beautiful with the sea running red of blood from all of our fiends?” His lips gently kissed your cheek. “Just you wait my dear, we will create a new beautiful world, which will exceed all the dreams one could possibly imagine.”

“Just stay here with me and no harm should come upon you”

[kiirostarz]

I love AFK Journey and its lore beyond all the stories and characters, there’s something that truly intrigues me: Merlin’s role in the story. Am I the only one curious about the character we play as? I became so fascinated that I even started researching the real Merlin, the one who inspired this version.

I’m not sure if it’s because I enjoy finding similarities and references, or because I want to better understand his role in the game and try to predict his future in the lore. I know the writers don’t necessarily follow this kind of analysis, but I’ll do it anyway!

The Original Merlin and His Powers

According to the original story, Merlin (or Myrddin) was born from a demon, a corrupt spirit, and a mortal woman. He was considered the most powerful magician, and according to different legends, he had incredible abilities: he could talk to animals, become invisible, shape-shift, control the weather, and manipulate the elements. However, despite his immense power, he was always careful in his actions.

More than just a simple sorcerer, Merlin had deep knowledge of the world—the sun, the moon, the stars, and everything around him. His wisdom allowed him to earn the respect of magical creatures such as fairies, gnomes, and even dragons. This reminds me of our Merlin in AFK Journey, who is not only a great magician but also seems to have a deep connection with the world and its beings.

Another interesting aspect is his relationship with Nimue. It is said that Merlin fell madly in love with her and taught her his most advanced spells. However, she feared his demonic heritage and, using his own knowledge, imprisoned him forever in a crystal prison, a rock, or a tree—depending on the version of the story. This made me think of Mirael. I don’t think she would ever betray us, but I can definitely imagine her using a similar spell to protect us from a greater threat.

Additionally, Merlin wasn’t limited to a single role—he was a druid, bard, shaman, and prophet. This reminds me of the different factions in the game, each with its own philosophy. Perhaps our Merlin, just like the original, transcends these barriers and isn’t tied to a single faction.

The fact that the original Merlin was the child of a demon immediately caught my attention because, in the world of AFK Journey, the Hypogeans fit that role perfectly. Throughout the story, there are hints that our character has some kind of connection to them, which leads me to two theories:

We are the true Merlin, and therefore, the “child” of a Hypogean, which would explain why we have a special relationship with them.

We are not the First Merlin, but rather someone who inherited his power, meaning our connection to the Hypogeans is more indirect but still significant.

Both options are fascinating because this connection isn’t obvious in the story, and if it were revealed, it would be a huge twist. What if the very source of our power comes from the same beings we fight against?

Another idea that came to me after rewatching the opening cinematic is the possible existence of a "First Merlin." In this scene, several characters are trying to claim a sword, but one of them doesn’t take it. Instead, they hold up a torch in the darkness.

If this scene has actual value in the lore and isn’t just a symbolic representation for the players, could it be that the Merlin holding the torch was the very first one? The torch could symbolize knowledge, enlightenment, or even the origin of our power.

This leads me back to the recurring question in all my theories: What are we, really? Are we immortal? Are we a reincarnation? Does our body remain the same, but our essence changes?

I don’t want to believe that all of this is just a coincidence. Since the game allows us to interact with other players, I’d like to think that this is a small reference to the fact that we’re not the only Merlin out there.

Where are the other Merlins? If there were others like us in the past, what happened to them? There aren't many mentions of them in current history, which makes me wonder about two possibilities:

Many succumbed to corruption, using their power for dark purposes.

They were eliminated or sealed away, and that's why they're rarely talked about in the present. If this is true, what makes us different? What allows us to endure where others have fallen? Perhaps our existence is an attempt to right the wrongs of the past.

Another detail that strengthens the possibility that more people like us exist is Serene Lyceum Academy. Based on what we know in the story, we weren’t just a professor there—we were also a student in the past.

At first, I assumed that this school was located somewhere in Holistone, but after checking again, I realized there’s no clear reference to its location. This makes me think that it could be a secluded place, similar to a magical academy like Hogwarts, located in a yet unexplored region of the game’s world.

If we consider how new areas like Cedartown and Rustport have been introduced, it wouldn’t be surprising if Serene Lyceum Academy is in an unexplored region. And if that place truly exists in the game’s lore, then it means we are not the only ones with the potential to become Merlin.

Maybe the protagonist was chosen from within the academy, just like others could have been selected before. This reinforces the idea that Merlin’s power isn’t unique, but rather a legacy that can be passed down or inherited.

Another interesting detail about the opening cinematic and the idea that Merlin (Original) is part human and part demon is the stained glass window that appears in the game. I feel like this image could be a direct reference to Myrddin's original story.

In the window, the yellow part could represent humans or celestials, while the purple part symbolizes the hypogeans. This aligns with the legend of Merlin, who in many versions of his story is the son of a demonic spirit and a mortal woman. In the center, the image fractures, which could point to an internal conflict between both natures or even our character's destiny as someone caught between two worlds.

Also in another trailer, Merlin (AFKJ) appears in front of a tree, but behind him there are only heroes; perhaps this emphasizes that the yellow part represents his more human side.

Well, that's it, I really found it interesting to find Myrddin's story and I wanted to do this kind of "analysis" of references in AFKJ, in the end I think I got too excited and talked about a bit of everything, but I hope you liked it.

I also want to mention that, after all this analysis, I remembered that AFK Arena does have a character named Merlin. However, I didn't consider him in this theory because his story in that game suggests he's from another dimension. I wanted to focus more on an analysis that fits directly with the lore of AFK Journey. Still, including him in the discussion would be perfectly valid, as there could be some hidden connection between the two games, or perhaps his existence in Arena is a clue about what might happen in Journey in the future.

[7ndipity]

Their S/o Is A Writer

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How the members would be with an s/o who is a writer/author

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to the two lovely anons who requested this! I hope y’all like it!

Masterlist

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jin: He would be super supportive, always find sneaky ways to promote your book like having it conveniently placed in the background of selfies. Tho he’d also be half jokingly convinced that every new character is somehow based on him. “Ooh, this guy’s really interesting, and handsome, what’s his deal?” *wiggles eyebrows knowingly* They’re not based on him, but he keeps trying(the one that is tho, he hasn’t asked about yet, lol)

Yoongi: I think he would really admire you being a writer, but he would also try to respect your creative privacy, similar to how he is with the other members' projects. He’ll read it when it’s finished, that’s how it’s supposed to work. But truthfully, he’s also not-so-secretly thrilled and touched whenever you ask for his feedback or opinion on whatever you’re working on.

Hobi: He would be such a huge supporter of your work! He would read and promote everything you release, even sometimes begging to read your wips, even if they’re still in the nonsense, first draft phase(or as I call them, hell drafts). He might worry about you sometimes if you’re overly focused on a project, taking up the task and making sure you’re getting enough rest and looking after yourself.

Namjoon: He would be so in love with the fact that you’re a writer! He’s an avid reader and would be so happy with being able to watch you bring each new story to life, always ready and willing to beta read anything or give advice if you need him. He makes a point to go to local bookstores to buy your books when they’re released(maybe even trying to go incognito to attend your book signings, hehe)

Jimin: He honestly thinks you’re a genius, it doesn’t matter the genre or how many books you write, he’s always in total awe, tho I think he might struggle at times with your need for so much time on your own to work. But he would find little ways to help and spend time with you, basically becoming your assistant and making sure you have whatever you need; bringing you coffee, making sure you’ve eaten and move around every couple hours.

Taehyung: He really admires your work and loves getting to help out in any way he can, whether that's helping act out scenes with you to test the flow of everything, or just making sure you have a quiet space to focus. He’s the type to surprise you with little weekend getaways to help you recharge and give you a change of scenery to work through any writer's block or issues you might be having.

Jungkook: He would get soo invested in your characters, wanting to know every little detail about them and mourning every misfortune that befalls them. I’m talking calling you up at 3 am, outraged like “WHY WOULD YOU MAKE THEM BREAK UP?! THEY WERE PERFECT TOGETHER!!” Fr tho, he would love your mind and creativity, and would tell you so as often as you’d let him(possibly while trying to get spoilers for the next book in the series, but-)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[bosbas]

Chapter 12: I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, insane amounts of pining, idiots in love!!, in their friends era... or are they?, the slow burn is slowww burningggg i'm so sorry

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: I am BACK sorry for my absence I promise I won't leave for that long again <3

July 12, 1816 – It seems that the summer heat is not the only thing causing a stir within the ton. Recently, the Montclair and Bridgerton families have been seen in each other’s company more frequently than usual. Could there be a more permanent union on the horizon?

Lord Philippe Montclair and Mr. Colin Bridgerton have been spotted in deep conversation on multiple occasions, discussing matters that appear far more serious than the usual lighthearted banter one would expect. Indeed, whispers suggest that their discussions have involved future business ventures and mutual interests, signaling a burgeoning camaraderie between the two gentlemen.

Regardless, the warmth between the two families is palpable, leading this author to wonder if we shall soon hear the sound of wedding bells. Stay vigilant, dear readers. Though no one shall stay more vigilant than this author.

As you walked home from the modiste with Eloise by your side, you noted the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves high atop the trees surrounding you. You had suggested a shortcut back to your respective homes, opting to go through the park rather than the busy streets, and you were mostly thankful for the silence of the greenery around you. Mostly.

“So, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” asked Eloise expectantly, gently nudging your shoulder with hers.

You groaned and screwed your eyes shut, already dreading the conversation, and the evening, to come. “Yes, Mother has been quite insistent that I go. I think she’d kill me if I asked to stay home one more time.”

“I didn’t know we were that bad,” joked Eloise, only a hint of resentment in her voice.

“Not at all!” you rushed to defend yourself, cringing at the fact that one of your dearest friends was upset with you. “You know that it’s just… Well, I’m sure Colin told you everything. I really can’t bear to face him.”

In all honesty, Eloise’s annoyance was warranted. You had spent the past two weeks avoiding the Bridgertons at all costs, only seeing Eloise at balls or in your own home. The only reason you had gone to Bridgerton House today was because you and Eloise were leaving immediately afterward to go get new dresses, and you were certain you wouldn’t run into Colin.

Not only were you still terribly embarrassed by your assumptions of Colin's character, but you also found yourself strangely drawn to him. Now that nothing prevented you from actually liking him, and now that you knew that he was not a horrible person like you had previously thought, you were in a bit of a conundrum. Colin Bridgerton had charmed you, and you knew that if you let yourself, you could very well start to grow feelings for him.

And that wouldn’t do. No, it absolutely wouldn’t. For starters, the two of you had never managed to get along anyway, so you had no idea how you would even live in relative peace were you to have a future. Even so, your father would never approve, no matter what Lady Whisteldown was alluding to. And so Colin was out of the question as a husband or really anything other than a friend.

But while you had been meticulously maneuvering through your social outings to avoid her family, Eloise had slowly been losing patience. She had tolerated whatever had been going on between you and Colin at the beginning of the season, but it was high time that you stopped acting so childish. Especially after Anthony and Kate’s ball, where the two of you had already apologized for your misunderstanding and subsequent feud.

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen him since that night,” scolded Eloise, crossing her arms in a huff. Then, in a humorous tone, she added, “He doesn’t actually look that bad with a broken nose if that’s what you’re worried about. The swelling has gone down considerably.”

Not able to help yourself, you let out a small snort and smiled at your friend. “No, it’s not that. I’m just so embarrassed. Oh heavens, even just thinking about it I can feel my face getting hot. He did tell you about it, right?”

“Yes,” responded Eloise, giving you a very pointed look. “He was very excited about the fact that you didn’t actually hate him. He wouldn’t stop talking about it for two days. Though now I wonder if that really is the case, given your behavior.”

 “Oh, no,” you groaned, putting your head in your hands in desperation.

“He was quite embarrassed as well, Y/N,” Eloise reminded you gently. “I don’t see why you can barely stand to be in the same room as him even now.”

“I just-” you started, finding it difficult to explain why you had been so against seeing him, or any of his family, really, after the most recent ordeal with Lord Barlow.

But Eloise wasn’t letting you get away with it any longer. She slowed down her previously brisk walk, looking straight into your eyes as she gestured for you to continue.

“I just wasted so much time and energy fighting with him and I’m so ashamed that your family saw that side of me. I didn’t even know I could be that unpleasant! And to make matters worse, it was all for nothing since I was completely in the wrong.”

“Not completely,” Eloise mused. Colin had been quite kind to you in his retelling of the events, and Eloise was inclined to believe her brother’s account.

With a sigh, your friend turned to face you. “I wish you had told me what you thought of him because I would have either helped you realize your mistake or helped you kill him.”

You laughed again, shaking your head as you realized how lucky you were to have Eloise in your life. Linking arms with her, you patted her hand as you explained, “I was just terrified of the recourse. My parents were so insistent that I ‘act ladylike’ that I was scared of revealing I had been unchaperoned in the presence of two men. And besides, I didn’t want to ruin your perception of your brother.”

“Well, regardless, it will all be resolved at dinner tonight, seeing how you’ll be in attendance.”

A soft sigh escaped your lips.

“I certainly hope so.”

---

As you walked into the dining room, a soft smile on your lips as you spoke with Kate, Colin’s breath was stolen from his body. He already hadn’t been expecting to see you, already growing accustomed to having you avoid him, but seeing you look as beautiful as you did now was completely doing him in.

“Y/N,” he whispered from across the room, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

Feeling an elbow digging into his ribs, Colin turned to see Benedict, smirking as he watched his younger brother. “Might I suggest pulling yourself together if you don’t want to scare her away again?”

“Be quiet,” hissed Colin, but he ran a hand through his hair to regain his composure anyway.

“Benedict!” you greeted, delighted at finally seeing him for so long. “And Colin!” you added, hoping your voice didn’t reveal the nervousness you were feeling.

“Lovely to see you again,” said Benedict brightly, squeezing your shoulder.

Then, feigning some obligation or another, the second Bridgerton slipped out of the dining room to join the rest of your families, leaving you alone with Colin. Benedict had been terribly obvious, but the resulting awkwardness that enveloped you and Colin kept you from noticing his brash exit.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Colin spoke, almost timidly. Then, speaking very quickly, he added, “I was fairly confused when I didn’t hear from you for two weeks, but I didn’t want to call on you because we agreed to just be friends and I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. Though now that I think about it, that might have been the decent thing to do."

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Colin looked down at the floor as he waited for your response.

“Not at all!” you rushed out, wanting to reassure him. “It was my fault entirely. I apologize for not speaking with you sooner, I was just a tad embarrassed, as you can probably imagine.”

Colin’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled, feeling at ease now that he was certain you didn’t spontaneously hate him again.

“You were embarrassed? I rather think I should be the one feeling that way,” he laughed. “I still find it hard to believe you could have thought I was that... horrid for so long.”

You put your hands over your face and shook your head. “I can’t believe it either,” you groaned.

Sensing you were getting worked up again, Colin instinctively put a comforting arm around your shoulders, pressing you to him. “No, it’s quite alright. I promise I was just…”

Then, suddenly realizing just how close he was holding you to him, Colin stepped away quickly. Instead of apologizing and drawing even more attention to his overstepping, he settled for clearing his throat awkwardly, clasping his hands behind his back to keep from reaching out to you again.

“It was all in jest, I swear,” promised Colin, realizing he had never finished his earlier sentence.

Before you could respond, Violet walked into the dining room, followed by your family.

“Hello, Y/N!” she greeted you, reaching over to put a hand on your forearm in greeting. “I’m thrilled you’re here! We missed you last week.”

You smiled gratefully back at her, internally chastising yourself for ever wanting to avoid this wonderful family. All because you were scared of facing Colin, who, as it turned out, had a singular talent for making you feel at ease.

“You’re seated here, next to Colin,” indicated Violet, gesturing toward a seat near the end of the dining table.

“Oh,” you breathed out, not expecting to have to be in such proximity to him for the whole night. Realizing you had been impossibly rude, you added, “Thank you very much, I’m sure we’ll have lots to catch up on.”

Four courses later, you were having the time of your life. You were sitting between Francesca and Colin, and both had been keeping you endlessly entertained as you ate. Speaking to Colin came so naturally that you wondered how the two of you had ever managed to fight so much without ever having a proper conversation, save for one or two. It seemed impossible now, the forgone tension between you. Especially when you had to actively ensure that you were talking to Francesca, too, rather than just Colin. But he was just so easy to talk to, and you simply had so much in common that it was proving quite difficult to focus on anything else.

“Are you excited for your season next year?” you asked Francesca, leaning away from Colin so you could concentrate on speaking to her.

“I suppose I’m looking forward to having something of my own,” she responded after chewing thoughtfully. “An experience of my own, that is. It’ll be quite the luxury, especially being from a family as large as mine. Did you ever feel that way?”

You hummed, thinking back on your season. “I felt that way at the beginning, to be sure. But having seen my older sister’s fairytale romance and having a season that was nowhere near that had me wishing for a season similar to hers in the end.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that-” Francesca started, having forgotten your ordeal with Lord Barlow.

You waved her apology away, smiling warmly at her. “Not to worry, I’m quite well-adjusted now. Perhaps next season will be better, though I’m not sure how unique it will be since I’m heading back to Spain, just as Isabelle did.”

“Are you really leaving?” asked Francesca, partially in shock that you were leaving after only one season. “But-”

“Y/N does,” came a loud voice next to you.

Confused, you turned around to face Colin, who seemed to have gone quite red in the face.

“I hadn’t realized I was speaking that loud,” he said bashfully, nervous now that most everyone at the table was looking at him expectantly. “Anthony was only talking about how I use the night sky to navigate my crew when I travel, and I was pointing out that you are quite knowledgeable in that area as well,” he explained, looking at you with wide, uncertain eyes.

Anthony, who had been at the other side of the table, was struggling to contain his laughter.

“I had no idea Y/N knew so much about the stars,” commented Violet, looking directly at Colin as she did so, an unreadable expression on her face.

Highly uncomfortable at being the center of attention for this particular reason, the third Bridgerton internally cringed and gulped his wine, hoping to wash down some of the discomfort as he did so.

“We’ve only talked about it a few times, but she does seem to be quite the expert,” he said finally.

Feeling charitable, Louis chimed in to change the subject, “I know I’ve been victim to her hour-long lectures about which constellations are visible at any given point in time. Were you thinking of traveling soon, Anthony?”

Letting out a sigh of relief now that the attention was no longer fixed on his thinly veiled infatuation with you, Colin cast a fleeting smile in your direction, eager to gauge your reaction.

But you only smiled amusedly at him, snickering as he gripped his fork and knife tightly in his hands with leftover tension.

“Tell Louis I say thank you,” he muttered.

You shook your head. “It’ll get to his head,” you argued.

And Colin’s smile in return was so charming, so roguish, and so handsome that you were tempted to forget your agreement to be friends right then and there.

Ah, that was why you had been avoiding him, you reminded yourself. Colin was far too charismatic for his own good. For your own good, rather.

But you had to remind yourself of what your parents –and society– expected you to find. A man with a title and a fortune. And that was decidedly not a Mr. Colin Bridgerton.

Clearing your throat, you turned away from Colin to face Francesca again.

Friends, you reminded yourself. You were friends with Colin.

---

The Montclair brothers sat in their father’s study, brandy in hand as they so often did after evening dinners ran long and they needed to wind down. Supper with the Bridgertons had been lovely, but the boys had important matters to discuss with their father. Well, important matters to you. But important nonetheless.

“Que pensez-vous de Colin?” asked Jacques, trying to seem nonchalant (What do you think of Colin?).

“Bah, il est assez gentil, mais il est vraiment amoureux,” came your father’s gruff response before he took a long sip of brandy, rubbing his temples (Well, he’s nice enough, but he’s definitely in love).

“Quoi? Amoureux de qui?” pressed Philippe, feigning innocence as if this wasn’t exactly what the brothers wanted Lord Montclair to notice (What? In love with who?).

“De Y/N, bien sûr,” replied your father, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (With Y/N, of course).

That was the tipping point for Louis, who apparently was the only person in the world who wasn't instantly attuned to Colin’s feelings. Forgetting why he and his brothers were so eager to meet with their father and talk about Colin, the youngest Montclair brother set his glass of brandy down in exasperation.

“Putain, comment tout le monde a pu voir ça?” (Damnit, how did everyone else see that?)

---

Laughing quietly at a comment Colin had whispered in your ear, you found yourself truly enjoying a ball for the first time in a very long time. Now that you were past all the hatred and subsequent awkwardness, it was lovely to spend an evening with Colin by your side.

This might have been the first ball you had been to that you hadn’t spent a considerable amount of time sulking at. It was, to say the very least, quite freeing.

Not to mention the absolute entertainment that was watching the third Bridgerton rush from ambitious mama to eligible lady and back to another mama as he attempted to please everyone. You had only been here an hour and he’d already danced three times and spoken with at least four women you knew for a fact he had no interest in.

“Ah, Mr. Bridgerton, it’s lovely to see you again,” came a voice behind you.

Both of you turned around to face Miss Anne McCall, who was looking at Colin expectantly. Amused, you raised your eyebrows at him, too. You could bet your family’s entire fortune that Colin had promised her a dance at some point tonight.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, briefly touching your arm. “Excuse me just a moment, Y/N.”

You nodded, unable to respond because you were momentarily overtaken by the feel of his hand on you. An unfamiliar warmth radiated to you, and you almost stumbled as you tried to regain your bearings.

Looking out across the ballroom, you spotted Colin smiling and laughing as he danced with Miss McCall, who was looking absolutely enamored as he spun her around. You smiled to yourself, glad that your rivalry with him had been resolved and you could simply appreciate the fact that he was a lovely person. Maybe some night you would be the one he was spinning around the ballroom.

Shaking your head to will the mental image away, you made your way to the other side of the ballroom, needing to clear your head.

However, a hand gripped yours and you turned around, surprised. Colin’s relieved eyes met yours and he pulled you closer to him, though still allowing an appropriate distance between you two in case anyone was observing.

“A turn about the ballroom?” he suggested, eyes pleading.

Once again taken aback by how aware you were of his skin on yours, you could only nod, allowing him to place your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I think I’ve spoken to too many people tonight. If I have to laugh politely at another conversation I’m certain I will dissolve right where I'm standing.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, squeezing his arm. “You don’t have to do it, you know?”

“Do what?”

“That,” you said, gesturing toward the dancefloor full of couples waltzing. “You’re allowed to say no.”

Colin frowned, thoughtful. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

“Why not?” you pressed.

“I- I don’t know, I suppose. It feels like it’s what I should be doing. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Hmm, not particularly. I’ve said no to plenty of men wanting to dance with me, you included,” you nudged him playfully.

“That doesn’t really count, though. Because you’re… you. It doesn’t matter if you say no to every single man asking you to dance.”

“Doesn’t it? You’re also you. So, it doesn’t matter either.”

“No, I mean that…I don’t know what I mean. I suppose that people would still like you even if you said no a lot.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you took in what Colin was saying.

“People would still like you if you said no every once in a while, you know? I know I would.”

Colin shook his head. “It’s still different!” Then, softening his voice, he added, “Because you have… Or rather, because I just don’t have any remarkable qualities beyond people finding me charming or affable.”

“Colin,” you scolded, rolling your eyes. Then, seeing that he was quite serious, your expression sobered. “Of course you have value beyond how much people like you. My word, Colin. You are so clever and so well-traveled. You can orient yourself on a map at first glance, and I doubt you would ever get lost at sea. You know most constellations visible from London, and I don’t even know how many beyond that.”

“Alright, I see your point,” he laughed, secretly wishing you would continue speaking forever. Colin was practically preening at your praise, and he so desperately wished you could want him the way he wanted you. “What do you suggest I do at balls, then, if I'm not dancing with every single member of the ton?”

 “Well, you could start by only dancing with people you want to dance with.”

“In that case, would you like to dance with me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” insisted Colin. Then, after a pause, he added, “Friends can dance together," a twinge of regret in his chest as he said the words.

But that seemed to placate you, and you placed your hand in his. “I suppose they do.”

With a shaky breath, you prepared for the next few minutes you would spend in Colin’s arms, not quite sure you or your heart were ready to look into his mesmerizing eyes and not fall completely head over heels for him.

But one smile from him, and you were completely at ease. One dance couldn’t hurt, right?

—

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[specialagentlokitty]

Hannibal lector x teen!reader - ensure you’re safe

Hi 👋🏻 Saw you wanted to try to write for Hannibal characters and for me the easiest way to start writing for Hannibal was to write like a therapy session with Hannibal. So thought maybe you could write teen!reader or just regular reader at a therapy session with Hannibal, of course there’s no worries if you don’t write it, just thought it might help you out <3 I will probably request something with Will later as he’s my fave character but can’t come up with anything right now - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜

TW: mentions of abusive parents

Sitting outside in the waiting room to your new therapists office, you sighed heavily, pulling your headphones back over your head.

You weren’t sure what you wanted to do, a large part of you wanted to just leave, but you had to be there, the officer sitting next to you was there to make sure of that.

But just because you had to be there didn’t mean you had to say anything, or actually take part, you simply just had to attend the session.

You watched as a bit of paper was held out in front of your face, and you sighed, turning your gaze to the man sitting next to you, pulling your headphones back down.

“What?” You snapped.

“Don’t be rude, keep your headphones down, and please try take part.”

“I don’t see why I have to, I didn’t do shit wrong.”

“Well, apparently everybody else sees differently kiddo, so please try.”

You stuck your middle finger up at him, pulling your headphones back over your head to carry on blocking out of the world.

You weren’t paying all that much attention, but you did notice when the officer next to you stood up and you turned your head to look at him in uninterest as he spoke to the man who came out of the office.

Then he turned back to you and pushed your headphones down.

“You’re up kid, I’ll wait out here to take you home but then you’re on your own to make sure you come to these sessions, got it? Twice a week.”

“Get lost Daniels.”

“Alright, but remember no wondering off because we’ll know.”

You just scowled and he grinned a little at you, holding up your bag for you to take as you stood up.

“This is Doctor Hannibal Lector, he’s going to be your new therapist, be polite, respectful, and remember to keep your temper.” Daniels warned.

You said nothing as he left, and you turned to the therapist.

“Hello (Y/N), would you like to come in?”

You set your bag down and sat down back in the chair you were waiting in.

Hannibal smiled slightly, and closing his office door, walking over to sit next to you, sitting forward slightly, clasping his hands together.

He took a moment to study you, how uninterested you were, the fact you wouldn’t even look at him, you were dressed in ripped jeans, well worn trainers, a hoodie.

But it was your face that he was drawn to, the stitches on your eyebrow, a little bit of dried blood just at the side, clearly you had ripped one or two earlier that day. What looked to be a broken nose, split lip, and from the brief glance of your knuckles he had gotten they were bruised and blooded.

He made a few mental notes before he finally spoke first, seeing you weren’t going to initiate a conversation with him.

“Would you like to start by telling me a little bit about yourself?” He asked.

“No.”

“Well, how about we start with why you’re here. Why have you been referred to me (Y/N)?”

“You have my file. You know why.” You grumbled.

“Yes, I am aware this is court mandated therapy. I would like to know why you think you were sentenced to therapy, what are your thoughts about this?”

You didn’t say anything, you just slumped down in the chair, pulling your hood up so he wasn’t able to look at you.

“You have no interest in being here.” He noted.

“Nope.”

“I see, yet you’re staying for what reason? What happens if you walk out of those doors before our session has ended?”

You didn’t say anything, and he just sat there silently for the rest of the session with you.

Every session went the same, you would sit outside, refuse to come in or answer his questions, then the pair of you would sit outside the office while he read or made notes and you listened to your music.

It went that way for nearly two months, and Hannibal followed the same routine this time around, opening his office door and you looked up at him.

He paused, taking in your bloodied hoodie and nose.

“(Y/N), what happened?” He asked.

You got up, and he stepped aside, holding the door for you as you walked in for the first time since you began to see him.

Hannibal carefully closed the door, watched as you walked around until you stopped by the ladders and you sat down on them.

“There are more comfortable places to sit if you would prefer.”

“I’m fine.”

He hummed a little bit, sitting in a chair as he looked over at you.

You were one to keep your distance, so he wanted to respect that boundary and stayed where he was on the other side of the room.

“Are you? In the two months that we have known one another you have never stepped foot inside my office until now. Today is the only day you have come in looking as if you were in a fight just before arriving.”

You didn’t say anything.

“I have read your file numerous times, you’re known for your rather unpleasant temper, you have been arrest on multiple occasions for assault, your most previous charge is listed as aggregated assault.”

“So what?” You snapped slightly.

“There is no need to get angry, I am not here to judge you. I am simply here to assist you, find out why you are so angry all the time and what led to your anger.”

You pulled the sleeve of your hoodie down, pressing it to your nose, wiping some of the blood on it.

Hannibal got up, walking over he took the handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to you, making sure he kept his distance.

“I don’t need your help…” you grumbled.

“Well, blood can be rather hard to wash out of clothing, you may ruin your jacket if you keep that up.”

“It’s a hoodie.”

Hannibal chuckled slightly.

“Very well, you will ruin your hoodie.”

“Like I said, don’t need your help.”

Hannibal sighed, laying the handkerchief down on the floor just a few steps away from your and he clasped his hands behind his back.

“You are a deeply mistrusting person, I understand that. But perhaps if you are willing to give someone a chance you will see that some people can be trusted.”

You glanced up at him, then quickly averted your gaze, going back to looking at the floor instead, but he knew you were watching him.

You had your head lowered, but just barely high enough to look at his shoes.

“Who hurt you?” He pressed carefully.

“What makes you think I didn’t start it?”

“The lack of bruises or scrapes on your hands, your clothes are rather dirty, defensive wounds I would say. Am I correct?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Maybe I just like it, getting into fights and all.”

“I have a reason that perhaps you don’t enjoy it.”

You looked up at Hannibal, getting up and you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans.

“Maybe I do. Maybe it fun, beating the crap out of someone until their blood is all over their face, watching as they beg me to stop, to leave them alone. Maybe I like the fear in the eyes.” You taunted.

“Is that so?”

Hannibal watched as you studied him, getting a read on him, trying size him up to see if you could take him on in a fight or not.

“Do you want to hurt me (Y/N)?”

You didn’t say anything.

“Who do you really want to hurt? When you get into all these fights you claim to enjoy, who do you think off when you’re knocking them to the ground and beating them within an inch of their lives?”

“No one.”

“Anybody with that much rage thinks of somebody, targets somebody.”

You just scoffed, making your way past him to head to the door.

You left without another wait, having reached the exact time limit of the session and Hannibal walked over to his desk, opening his book.

He wrote down what you had told him, and sat reflecting on it.

Clearly you were an angry person, you were a teenager with a lot of anger and hatred, but not at the world.

It was directed at one single person, because if your anger was random he had no doubt in his mind you would’ve already tried to attack him, but you didn’t.

You simply just refused to acknowledge whatever he said, you didn’t attempt to hurt him.

Intimidate? Yes. But not hurt.

It was a few days when your next session came around, and you walked into the office once more, taking a seat in your usual spot, this time a little more slowly.

Hannibal frowned, but carried on his session.

And he began to pick up on every time you came into the sessions either hurt, or fresh out of a fight.

And the timeframe between these seemed to get smaller and smaller, up until the point today.

Hannibal opened his door and you looked worse than ever as you pushed past him, dripping some blood on to the floor, limping into the middle of the room.

You took a few shoe breaths and he closed the door, making his way over to you.

“(Y/N), can you hear me?”

You slowly turned to him, nodding your head, stumbling a couple of steps.

“Tell me what happened? Who did this to you?”

You shook your head, slowly sitting down on the floor so you wouldn’t have to get blood on any of his furniture.

“Stay here, I will call the police, and for an ambulance.”

“No!”

Hannibal turned at your outburst, and you looked at him, rage with slight fear mixed in your eyes.

“Don’t you dare, don’t… don’t call anyone…” you warned.

“Alright.”

Hannibal set his phone back down and he walked over, kneeling down in front of you, resting an arm on his leg.

“Tell me what happened.”

You took a small breath, leaning back on one of your hands.

“I fucked up… real bad doctor Lector… like.. like real bad…”

“I need you to tell me what happened.” He pressed carefully.

You sighed a little bit.

“He got drunk again, got pissed, I talked back. He swung for me so I fought back, hit him with a chair. She got pissed at me, pushed me down a few stairs.”

“Who is the ‘he’ you keep referring to?”

“My dad.”

Hannibal nodded his head.

“I assume the ‘she’ would then be your mother?”

“Bingo, right on the money doc. I can see why you’re a therapist.”

Hannibal noticed how you deflected the serious topic with unserious remarks or a slightly snappy tone towards him.

“I see, you are aware that I have to call the police, and I strongly recommend you allow me to take you to the hospital. A fall down the stairs is not something to take so lightly.”

“You call police and I’m gone.”

“Why?”

You stayed quiet, shifting a little with pain and he sighed.

“You have strong issues with authority, but unfortunately I have to call them, I have a duty of care to ensure your well-being. Which means if I suspect that someone or yourself will cause you harm I have to report it. I can request to be with you every step of the way if that makes you comfortable.”

You pushed yourself up with a grunt of pain, stumbling a few steps backwards and Hannibal quickly stood up, placing his hand on your back to keep you stable.

You moved away quickly, and made your way to the door.

“At least allow me to take you to the hospital.” Hannibal said.

He turned around to get his keys from his desk and when he turned around you were gone.

He sighed, picking up his phone in order to call for your parole officer.

He had had the number his his phone since the first session, but he had never had to call the officer about you.

Not until now.

He quickly relayed on the fact that you had come into his officer severely injured.

You hadn’t made it far when Daniels picked you up, despite the fact you tried running you couldn’t exactly outrun a police officer in your injured state and you were taken to the hospital.

The ran some tests, stitched up your cuts, and placed you in a room while you awaited the results of your tests.

“So, want to tell me what happened?” Daniels asked.

“Go fuck yourself.” You growled.

“Hey, I want to help kid. But I can’t if I don’t know what happened to you.”

“You know what happened you prick, you all know what happened but you won’t do fuck all about it!”

“Calm down right now.”

“Or what?!”

You ripped the IV out of your arm, and you stood up, nearly falling to the side but you didn’t falter.

Daniels stood up as well.

“You can’t do shit.”

“Look, doctor lector is on his way, and they’re taking your parents in for questioning right now but you need to stay here.”

“Like fuck do I have to stay here. You can’t hold me for shit.”

You barged past him, throwing down the tray as he tried to follow you.

It would stall him for a few minutes while nurses and doctors quickly tried to gathering everything up so nobody would get hurt.

You left the hospital, making your way to your usual hideout spot when you didn’t want to go home.

It wasn’t the best, an old and abandoned construction site, but it was full of more than enough hiding places, and you went to your favourite one.

Sitting in the concrete pipe, you rested your back on a blanket you had in there, closing your eyes as you breathed through the discomfort.

Your phone was ringing endlessly, and you turned it off, getting bored of hearing the sound.

Though the silence was helpful when it came to hearing the creaking of the large metal gate being opened and closed.

“(Y/N), I know you’re here, come out so we can talk!” Hannibal called.

You stayed quiet.

You knew he would eventually and it only took a few minutes for him to appear at the entrance to your hiding spot.

He offered you a gentle smile.

“You need to go back to the hospital.”

“No.”

“Your parents are currently in custody, you’re safe. Nobody here is going to hurt you, nobody there will hurt you either.”

You scoffed.

“You really believe that? Give it a day or two, they’ll be back out.”

“Yet you always go back, why?”

“Because I have to, court order. Every. Single. Time.”

Hannibal sighed, and he offered you a reassuring smile.

“Come with me, I assure you that no more harm will come to you.”

You didn’t believe him, you simply just left the other end of the pipe you were sat in and Hannibal got up to follow you.

“You have internal bleeding, if you do not go back to the hospital you’ll die within hours.”

“Great, makes life easier for everybody. Gives me a way out.”

“Do you wish to die?”

You paused, giving the man a chance to walk over to you and stand in front of you.

“Do you wish to die (Y/N)?”

“No.”

“So, allow me to take you back to the hospital then. We will let the surgeons fix whatever inside you is bleeding, then when you wake up I will be right there waiting.”

“Yeah, and they’ll be there too.”

“You have my word, you parents will not be allowed in the room.”

You scoffed.

“Yeah, I’ll take my chances bleeding internally.”

“What if I can prove to you that they won’t be allowed in the same room as you?”

This seemed to gain your interested, and he gestured to the front of the construction sight.

“Do you see that man over there?”

You nodded.

“His name is Jack Crawford, he works for the FBI. He has read over your case file, he along with another agent will be outside your room the entire time you are there in recovery while we sort a safer place for you.”

Hannibal held his hand out to you.

“Do you trust me, even just a little bit?”

You looked at him, and you slowly nodded your head.

Hannibal smiled, walking over and he reached out, wrapping his arm around you, letting you hold his other arm to steady yourself while you both walked.

“They will never hurt you again (Y/N).”

Hannibal helped you into his car and got into the drivers seat, adjusting the mirror, wiping the little bit of blood that was on it so you wouldn’t see it

[paranoiastudio]

Lady Strong

pairing: Aemond Targaryen х f!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, angry sex, oral (m for f), reader is Laris Stronge daughter

word count: 1,4k

English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes

- He's like a snake that's been stepped on. - The doors to the Small Council close and you lean back against them.

Aemond is still sitting at the head of the table, where his brother had been just a few days ago, staring at you.

As always, you feel unsure and nervous under his gaze. That's what attracted you to him; few could make you lose your cool.

- What did you tell him?

- What i had to say. - He evades the question and looks away. An unpleasant chill runs down the back of your neck, a sure sign that something is wrong.

- That's not an answer. - You move around the chamber, the only sound being the rustle of your dress. Aemond says nothing more, only watches you, as if expecting an attack to come.

- I asked him to send for my grandfather. - Aemond lets you take a glass from the table. - I will appoint him Hand again.

- Interesting... - You take a sip. - Dornish wine?

A quiet "uh-huh" was your answer and you take another sip, usually your father did not allow you to drink undiluted wine, emphasizing the importance of maintaining a sober mind.

- And what about my father?

- He is still on the Council... For now.

- And?

- What else do you want to hear? - Targaryen smiles, an insolent smirk twisting his thin lips. - Did you really think that because I fuck you, I would curry favor with your slippery father?

- How dare you speak to me like that?

- I am the prince regent now, it is you who behave inappropriately, barging in here and starting arguments you cannot win.

You spill the contents of the glass, scarlet droplets of wine running down Aemond face and doublet, he closes his good eye. You are not ashamed, it was you who helped him get to where he is now. You deserve respect.

- I am not a mare, my prince! And do not forget about the friends who were with you from the very beginning. Especially since sex...

Aemond pays you with your coin. You knew that you brought him out and were ready, the wine flies past you and ends up on the floor, in the place from which you dodged.

- Missed! - You rejoice like a child, and, leaving the glass on the edge of the table, head for the exit.

You hear footsteps behind you, Aemond can easily catch up with you and press you to the table, you hit the hard edge painfully with your hips and hiss with anger.

- How can such an intelligent woman behave like a little child? - The prince's hand is already entangled in your hair, painfully pulling out the hairpins and hairpins. - Didn't I explain your situation to you well enough? Didn't your father teach you how to behave properly? How can he be a good Hand?

You remain silent, clutching the cold edge of the table with your hands and hissing again when Aemond yanks your hair hard, urging you to raise your head.

- Tell me, sweet girl, is your father worthy of this place? - Gods, he bent you down right next to the place of the Hand, not long ago the smartest men sat at this table, and now...

- Let me explain again. - Targaryen lifts the skirts of your dress and runs his long fingers between your thighs.

- Aemond... - A sharp slap on your ass silenced you. - My prince, please...

No one had ever had power over you, even your father was not perceived as a strong figure. But Aemond Targaryen... He seemed to radiate confidence and authority, everything in his image spoke of it and could not help but attract.

The ladies of the court whispered about the prince's scar and his coldness (he did not court the ladies, never danced), despite his status and royal blood, Aemond was not an enviable groom.

Just as the daughter of Laris Strong was not an enviable bride. Your character and the reputation of your house did not play into your hands and so far you have not received a single worthy proposal of marriage. And, having met Aemond Targaryen, you gave yourself to him without hesitation as soon as he asked. To be under his protection, not to think about anything and just take his beautiful member...

- Now are you behaving well? - Another slap falls on your thigh. - I'm afraid if I forgive you right away, you'll continue to behave like a little naughty girl.

Aemond's hands caress your thighs, spread your buttocks and tease the most intimate parts of your body, the places that were now shamelessly exposed to him.

- My sweet girl... - You hear him kneel behind you, and before you can say anything, the prince's hands are replaced by his tongue.

You cover your mouth with your hand, hoping that the guards outside don't hear you. A warm tongue slides along the wet entrance and flicks the plump and needy clitoris. Aemond's hands spread your buttocks further, forcing your legs wider and penetrates you with his tongue.

The prince's handsome nose rests against your pearl and each of his movements gives off a pleasant tremor in your body. The peak grows quickly and you can't hold back a groan of disappointment when Aemond's mouth leaves you.

Two long fingers replace the prince's tongue and he immediately picks up a fast and rough pace, enjoying your sobs and the quiet squelching of your cunt.

- Aemond, please... - You barely get used to the stretching, when the blond prince deprives you of this pleasure. - My king, please!

You can't hold back a scream, because Aemond fills you with a sweeping movement, and, without giving you a second, begins to move.

You hit the table, your hands slide on the cold tabletop, and the tight corset prevents you from breathing normally, but all this seems insignificant at the moment when the prince regent's cock touches that very place inside you again and again.

- Don't stop! - You breathe heavily, lowering your hot cheek onto the cold table. Your hips rise and Aemond penetrates deeper, hoarsely moaning behind your back.

- You like it, right? To be my dirty little whore... - Your pussy clenches even tighter at the words, the way he talks to you lecherously with his perfect voice stirring something dark inside you. - What would your father say about you?

- Don't you dare. - You slap the prince's hands that are clutching your waist. - Now is not the time!

- I'm fucking Larys Strong's daughter in the Small Council chamber after I failed to appoint him Hand. - Aemond slows down slightly. - Now seems like the time.

You push yourself down on him, pushing your hips back. The tension in your body is unbearable and you feel your pussy tremble and suck on the Targaryen's cock harder.

Aemond continues to whisper something, but you can’t focus, overwhelmed by the orgasm that crashed over you like a tsunami.

You gasp for air, all the muscles in your body relax and you scream from the intense stimulation, because Aemond is not done with you yet.

Holding you with one hand, he finds your clit with the other and continues to caress you, chasing his release. It didn’t take him long, so tightly you squeezed him with your hot and tender walls.

- Fuck! - Targaryen leaves your body and spills onto your thighs, red from his grip.

The prince never cum inside, not wanting to burden you both with unwanted children. You took moon tea, but you appreciated this caution in your lover’s behavior.

- I hope we will not return to this conversation anymore. - Aemond kisses your nape and inhales the scent of your long hair.

- I suppose so. - You lean against the man's broad chest. - Is this from your bride?

There was a scroll on the table with the seal of House Baratheon. You knew that Aemond was bound by duty and his flight to Storm's End was no fun, but it was one thing to know about it, and quite another to welcome a daughter of House Baratheon here in the castle.

- Do we have to discuss this now? - Aemond dresses and carefully adjusts your dress.

- Will your future wife not mind that you have me? - You couldn't bring yourself to say "mistress."

- Frankly, I don't care. - Aemond's grip regains its former strength. - If you wish to discuss this matter, I think we will be more comfortable in my chambers.

You may not have been able to improve your father's position, but you seem to have found a cozy place for yourself.

[madwomansapologist]

in the afterglow (of an orgy) | bg3 companions x tav

cw: i'm not catholic but i feel like i sinned with this. gangbang turns into a orgy: the most dangeous polycule in the making. established relationships/developing relationships. m/m, f/f, m/f. cum swallowing. i am just a whore for tavrem.

an: happy 1th bg3 anniversary! i already love those characters more than i love my brother (wink wink). a bit late, my mom's birthday was my priority, but there we go!

They almost broke you.

You could still feel it all. A sort of discomfort that can only exist after immense pleasure. Those lingering touches on your burned skin. The deep bites collaring your neck, scratches on your back and nape. Dried tears staining your cheeks. Raw lips, just like the insides of your thighs.

Will you still feel it all tomorrow? Will their kisses, bites, slaps, hands, still be covering your body once you have to come back to old harsh life? Oh, yes, it will. That pain and pleasure inflicted on you won't suddenly dissapear. It will fade eventually, but you will still have bruises to gaze upon for some time. You prefer it that way. Everytime it aches, you'll think about them.

But not now. For now, there is nothing on your mind. Not a worry, not a memory, not a dream: all you have is moonlight's embrace and the warmth of the bonfire.

Such a loud silence took over the camp. As if it could even be called silence. Heavy breathing and soft whimperings. Moans so loud they still eccho into their heads. Such a filthy harmony.

"Hells", Wyll was the first to speak. He couldn't say much more than that.

Karlach groaned, her throat let out a sob almost palpable. Her whole body burned hotter. Smoke came out of her mouth, and Wyll wondered where she found the cigar. When. If she had more to spare. "More like heavens."

It wasn't planned. It wasn't expected. It was a hard day, and it turned into a cold night. In some moment in between those two, someone had to start it. This. Not that any of them could remember who did.

It was normal for you to kiss one of them when surrounded by the others, but you were always aware of the weight of their gaze. Some prefer to pretend it wasn't happening—Gale and Karlach would suddenly find something so interesting in their hands to look at. Others would enjoy it—Shadowheart and Wyll know how the other taste, and have shared a fair amount of wine watching you with Astarion.

And still, there was a line you decided to not cross. A point where you would stop, no matter with who you were, no matter who surrounded you. They all respected it, just like you did theirs. Shadowheart would tease, some would pout, but none would make you feel less than safe with them.

But then, someone had to start this. They really can't remember, the beggining of the night dizzy and so far away, but somehow they know who decided to do that. You. It could only be you.

Gale put on his navy robe, his cheeks burning brighter than the bonfire. Once he disappeared inside his tent, Astarion rolled his eyes and went back to watch the stars.

He knew it would make things too complicated. Shit, he knew it, but he wanted it. Wasn't it already difficult to be with you? It took him too long to understand you, to trust you, and now because of a night he might have weakened his bond with all other companions.

Not that they even matter that much. You're the strongest between them. Astarion needs to be safe, and you proved again and again that you can do that. Let the others suck on their own insecurities. Astarion will make sure to have you by his side when he avenges himself.

Lying to himself won't change the fact Astarion chose to do everything he did. It was all a choice. Every kiss, every bite, every thrust. And so did that damned wizard. Astarion will keep on lying to himself, pretending not to notice as his heart shatters once more.

Then he felt the blanket over his skin. Astarion opened his eyes, and this time he couldn't look away from the mark on Gale's neck. "Oh, darling, you can be sweet", Astarion bit his tongue. "Unlike your blood."

Gale sighed. He kneeled besides you, covering your body. You were already dozzing off, but he saw a tiny smile spreading across your face. "How you feeling, my love?"

"Gross", you whispered. Gale chuckled, his thumb carressed your lips. You knew your whole body was covered in cum, but you couldn't care less once he licked his finger. "I can still feel you inside me. All of you."

A cold hand touched yours. Shadowheart was the last to get tired enough to stop. Her leg is intertwined with yours, now covered thanks to Gale, her knees stiff against your core.

"You've been so good", her voice, so soft, felt like a lullaby. You gazed at her lips. Such tender words for someone who rode your face calling you a whore. "What do you want, lover?"

Supporting yourself on your elbows, you tried to get up. Once your clit brushed against her knee, you whimpered. Shadowheart stared at you, and Gale held your arms. "I'll get clean", you said, waiting for them to give you space to move.

"Not so fast, dove", Shadowheart sat, the blanket falling and revealing her beautiful body. She was as burned as you. "You took all of us. If you can walk, then I will be scared."

Gale sat besides you, supporting you on his chest. You were sat now, but not any closer to getting up. "You are a sight", he whispered against your ear. "Let us care for you."

"I feel dirty", you said. "I just want to get clean."

Wyll raised from his spot, and Karlach watched as he walked away from her. She felt the lack of his weight on her chest.

She still burns. Less than she used to, but she does. And yet, there is not a person without the markes of her hands and lips. Karlach burned every single one of you, and no one wanted her to stop.

Karlach is used to feeling cold. It was so lonely and for so long. That's the first time in a while she feels hot and it isn't a bad thing.

"Is that a pout?" She teased. You wanted for her to be closer to you, but by the way her legs tremble you knew Karlach couldn't move. So did you. "Don't make me bite it out of you. Sit down and relax. You fucking earned it."

Wyll came back carrying towels and soap. Watching him, you relaxed against Gale's body. He kneeled in between your legs, and the first thing he did was to kiss your forehead.

"They are right", Wyll joined them in this little quest of preventing you from moving. "You've been so good. For all of us. Now let us take care of you, doll."

Wyll then kissed your knuckles, whispering sweet nothings against your skin. As if you both didn't knew his cum was deep inside your ass.

"Astarion, get her something to eat", a voice from behind you made you shiver. "Gale, we need a bath. You can warm water, can't you Shadowheart?"

"Oh, dear Lae'zel, I fear I can't." Shadowheart rolled her eyes, moving her hands as a rune appeared on the floor.

They can banter for however longer they want it. Everyone knows how long they spend fighting one another to ensure they would be on top. Between the two of them, it was more a battle than sex.

Exactly what you said they needed.

A purple glow you saw by the corner of your eyes worked as a telltale of Gale's magic. Only when you saw the bath floating until it reached the runes you understood it. They were about to bath you.

The camp was no longer silent. Watching the chaos of it all, Astarion chuckled to himself and went after something for everyone to eat.

Nothing changed.

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[toxicrelief]

Crawling Back to You

Chapter four

Synopsis: Does he hate you? If asked maybe he would say yes. But no one is asking.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Chapter: 4/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

Note: Kind of filler, its a little hard to maintain enemies to lovers and also make his POV more interesting. I am personally a sucker for when the female character hates the guys guts, and the guy POV is just head over heels, so it might move more in that direction as the story progresses.

“Fuck, another one?” In what felt like either a week, or a century to Rex, there had been three additions to the team. Immortal as leader, Bulletproof as…whatever Bulletproof does, and the surprise addition of Shapesmith quite literally yesterday. Rex angled his head to the side, looking at the newcomer up and down. Cecil pinched the bridge of his nose but continued talking. Something about working with the Guardians but not really being a Guardian- whatever he was saying, Rex did not care. “Sure, why not just add her to the team, apparently it is a free-for-all around here anyways!” He snapped a glance at Shapesmith who just smiled, which made him more irritated.

Cecil continued to talk as he walked away, but he did not care. The Guardians of the Globe was such a highly respected group before the original team was…massacred. Part of him wondered if that was an ending that all of them were headed towards. With how often their asses were kicked it was starting to feel like it. Maybe that was why Cecil kept putting more and more suboptimal members on the team. He was still angry over the addition of Shapesmith. They did not even know who he was and yet he is on the team? Bullshit.

Robot had even been replaced, and he had been with Rex since he was on the Teen Team. As much as Rex was annoyed by the person who stole his DNA, he liked The Immortal much less. Rex grumbled a bit to himself in annoyance over the whole situation, leaving the common area.

Maybe Eve had made the right decision in leaving the Guardians. Rex considered the idea of trying to team up with her for about two seconds before fully remembering why she left the Guardians. His fresh interaction with Duplikate was still on his mind from earlier. He had gone into the gym and turned tail almost immediately when seeing her. Now that he was standing in here alone a few hours later it was all coming back.

Maybe he wasn’t in love with her, but it still stung that she had cheated on him with Immortal. Geriatric fuck. For a moment he started to feel a sliver of guilt for cheating on Eve in the first place, but he quickly pushed that feeling away to focus on the bigger problem. Cecil. Admittedly he did not know exactly what he was going to do about this particular problem, but he was definitely going to give it a good fester.

His eyes trailed over the barbell that he had seen Kate using earlier. “Fuck.” He whispered to himself aloud, rubbing his temple. Maybe he could fester elsewhere. Exiting the gym he considered his options. No doubt, the newbie was still making her rounds in the common area. He could not deny a part of him was curious as to how she handled the other members. His first interaction with Monster Girl flashed in his mind. God he was good at bad first impressions. But of course, none of this was truly his fault, after all, some people are just born dicks. He could not help it. And look how it turned out now, he and Amanda were…friends? Fuck did he consider any of these people friends? Glorified coworkers? He started to grumble to himself at this realization. There was mutual respect with Rudy up to a certain point, but he also stole Rex’s DNA so that’ll cause a hell of a drift.

He reentered the common area still lost in thought; you were talking to Shapesmith. Leaning against the wall by the door he took in where everyone was, but his eyes quickly returned to you after hearing Shapesmith exclaim something. You immediately went ridged and glanced around, your eyes landing on him for just a split second. After an awkward smile, you turned back to Shapesmith. Figures. Of course, she’s all buddy-buddy with the newest addition. She basically was Shapesmith. Rex let out a huff, his attention landing on the group that contained Rae, Immortal, Kate and, Black Samson.

Kate and Immortal were standing side by side, just a fraction too close while discussing something with the other two people in their group. Disgusting. For a moment he considered talking to Cecil about discouraging romantic relationships on the team, but somehow he knew Cecil did not care.

Bulletproof walked through the door Rex was leaning next to, catching his attention.

“Hey-”

Bulletproof stopped and turned, already seeming not very enthused at the fresh opportunity to have one-on-one time talking to Rex. “What?”

“Can you believe this shit?” Rex was not sure if he was talking about the new arrival or about Kate and Immortal, or if Bulletproof even knew about Kate and Immortal. Why would he? He just joined. Ugh, Rex was suddenly reminded that Bulletproof was for all, intents and purposes, barely less of a newbie than that person talking to Shapesmith.

Bulletproof didn’t say anything, looking over at the scene in front of them for a few moments before looking at Rex again. “I don’t know man, I don’t really see the big deal.”

“Seriously? This is a complete fucking joke! Shapesmith? We don’t even know who he is! And now some new Cecil hire? When I first joined, I had to go through trials and prove myself worth of this.” Rex ran a hand down his face at the memory of Moster Girl just about beating him to a pulp. “What can she even do?”

“Why don’t you just ask her instead of standing over here and staring like a creep?”

“I don’t look like a creep-!”

“And I am not sure that I am the right person for you to try rallying with. Because I am also a ‘Cecil hire’ as you say. Or did you forget?” Oh right. “I just want some coffee; you got any other insults you want to throw my way first though? I’d hate to leave before you’ve finished.” Bulletproof said, taking a few steps away from Rex.

“No, I think that’s all I got for now, don’t linger on my behalf.” Rex deadpanned, folding his arms as Bulletproof walked away. He wanted to make a joke about finishing but none of them seemed to enter his mind fast enough. All this change was throwing him off his rhythm in the ways of sarcasm.

Bulletproof walked up to them, and they conversed for a few moments before Bulletproof continued walking in another direction without getting any coffee. Damn, fifteen seconds talking to the girl and he was already turning away without what he went to get. A small sliver of satisfaction filled Rex at the thought that he was justified in his dislike for the person. That sliver quickly vanished though as he watched her say a few words to Shapesmith and then follow Bulletproof. He turned around and now they were talking- Okay why do I care? Rex turned his head back to the group with Immortal and Duplikate and groaned. Why couldn’t there be some emergency right now? Villians only seemed to try leveling cities when he was sitting down to relax or go to bed. He was sure Cecil would call them to action the moment he decided to just go sit in his room. No choice but to stay.

Rex pushed himself off the wall with a sigh, walking over to Shapesmith. As he got closer, he fully took in the scene. The coffee pot was hanging off the counter and there was a sizable mess on the floor. “What happened here?”

Shapesmith turned to look at him with a smile, “I believe it is what they call brewing, it’ll be ready momentarily, have no fear.”

“Where the fuck are you from?”

__

Rex ended up cleaning up the mess. Not without complaint, but after watching Shapesmith try to pick up shards of glass with his bare hands he figured this was about to be a safety hazard. And he did not want to deal with getting someone to come and take care of his new teammate. Cleaning up a mess of glass and water is much more complicated than it would seem, and there was a second where Rex genuinely considered just igniting the pieces and seeing if they would simply disappear in a chain explosion. But he also already got told off for blowing up garbage in the base. So, the traditional method would have to do.

It reminded him of the blood streak that used to provide such an eyesore in the early days of being in the Guardians. A reminder of those who had died in the very place he was standing. These new additions did not earn the right to get rid of that in the same way the rest of them had. It was a simple thought that slowly started to eat away at Rex. The Guardians of the Globe had been through so much, Bulletproof, Shapesmith, the new girl, they knew nothing about the trials they had gone through. Immortal, unfortunately, had to be excluded from this, since he was killed with the other previous Guardians. Rex still did not like him though. Does someone who technically died with the others still get the same amount of respect if they did not stay dead?

After dropping the broom and trash off in the kitchen Rex headed a little further down the hallway. The sound of Rudy and Amanda talking lured him in as he heard the familiar sound of small talk.

“Killdeer?” Must be her alias.

“A type of bird, correct?”

“Yes. The bird.”

“They are known for pretending to be injured to draw away predators. So they are notable for being unassuming, is that what you are?” Rex started to think about his earlier annoyance at her not having earned her spot. Fester. Rot.

“Notable? Well, I hope so-”

“Unassuming.” Unassuming? She did not deserve to be a Guardian, but was Rudy really implying what Rex thought he was? He entered the room and immediately interjected himself into the situation. Fester.

“Birds don’t have superpowers.” Real clever. He almost wanted to roll his eyes at the non-statement.

“Your point being, Rex?” Taking a few moments to come up to the group, Rex took Killdeer in. Her height and stature, she was remarkably ordinary almost. And was wearing civilian clothes rather than a suit. It really was like just anyone walked in off the street.

“My point is just that it’s a stupid name.” He crossed his arms and looked at her more closely. She did not return the scolding glare but instead glanced over at Robot a few times. Did she think he was going to help her? Irritation started to form at the fact she seemed determined not to speak for herself.

“Seriously? What do you want man?” Amanda said.

“What do you even fuckin’ do anyways?” He muttered with disdain, it had better be good if she was being granted membership without being screened by the other members. His gaze did not leave her.

“I, uh, heal.”

Oh, that is rich. A glorified nurse. Just what the team needed. No telepathy, or the ability to create illusions, you know useful things. She was here to do what most of the people’s bodies here do already at an accelerated rate. Unless she is able to regrow other’s teeth, Rex was still a little jealous that Mark could do that.

“Oh, you ‘uh heal’. I am glad we got that covered! I mean come on! Don’t you guys see how ridiculous this is? I feel like I am going crazy! What is Cecil thinking?” Rex returned his gaze to you and was met immediately by a very unimpressed look. Not even the flat anger that he is used to, just instantaneous disinterest. Harsh. But Rex decided to double down, the festering getting to him. “We already have all kinds of high-tech what’s-its here that we can get treated with after battles. I should know, I have had to be put together plenty of times after fights.” He looked at the other two who were listening in, and the look on Amanda’s face told him he was not making the good argument he thought he was. “We do not need Nurse Joy over here.” He said this to Rudy and Amanda, trying to reiterate his initial point. “You are pointless.” He said this directly to you. His brow furrowed tightly.

You proceed to tell him how your powers save the GDA in funding, but it still does not seem like a good reason. Cecil never seemed concerned about funding before, and he had not gotten on them directly about cutting costs. Or maybe he had, and Rex had not been paying attention. Maybe this makes more sense than he would like to admit. She finishes by clarifying that she is not able to regrow limbs and how she accelerates the healing process- whatever.

“You hear that, Rex? No regrowing limbs, I am guessing that means she can’t change your micro either.” Rex cocked his head slightly at Amanda, getting major déjà vu from their first meeting.

Running out of good reasons to dislike her addition, he started to throw out the basest complaint there is when it comes to government-run operations. Wasting tax dollars.

“You pay taxes?” The joke does not fit the tone of the current conversation. Rex cannot help but purse his lips together and look at Rudy as he begins to speak. If anyone else had said that he probably would have exhaled a short laugh. But it was not anyone else, and she did not get to get out of this by simply making a joke.

Rudy reiterated basically what she had already said. Rex gave him an incredulous look and Rudy gave a halfhearted shrug. Guess there was not much left to be said. Rex did not have another good argument to come up with, but he still was not convinced of her necessity to the team. “Well, I do not like it.”

After a brief few moments of silence, she glanced to the side, looking like she was listening to something. She probably had an earpiece in. And like clockwork, she began to say her goodbyes.

She addressed Rudy and Amanda and then turned to the last person who was standing in the group. “Rex.” She said with a kind smile. For a moment Rex almost felt bad, he had been giving her a ridiculously hard time all morning. She had pretty eyes. He noticed rather begrudgingly how they crinkled slightly with the smile. Rex could feel his face scrunch slightly in concentration, he was not entirely sure why but at this very moment he felt the need to study her face. Commit it to memory. Maybe if he knew her face well, he could avoid it more quickly after seeing it. Right? Logically his brain should register her in a crowd quicker the better he knows the curve of her lips. Definitely an important detail.

And with that, she walked away. Leaving Rudy, Amanda, and Rex standing around like idiots. Before Rex could come up with something to fill the silence, maybe another grumble about not liking the situation, Rudy spoke.

“This is odd.” Rex’s gaze snapped onto Rudy.

“Why do you think?” Amanda asked.

“It just is very sudden. Like Rex said.” Ha, it was a good point to make, he knew it. “And she’s not particularly… extraordinary. Her explanation makes sense, but with Cecil is never that simple. Or at least it never has been.” He trailed off a bit and put a hand up to his chin. “Just a healer…”

“Do you think Cecil has ulterior motives?” Amanda asked, tilting her head. “She seemed kind of, well, nice. To be honest. If he does do you think she knows?”

“I’m not sure…”

“Well glad we figured that one out,” Rex interjected starting to feel frustrated.

“I will have to learn more about her. We just do not know enough right now.”

“So what? We watch her?” Rex questioned.

“We watch her.” Rudy repeated.

__

Several days passed with hardly any mention of the newest addition. A few minor altercations with some lower-league villains occurred, but no one experienced any injuries, so she was not called in. Rex also learned that she technically was not part of the Guardians, but was contracted, kind of like Mark. It put him mildly at ease, for more reasons than the fact that he did not think she deserved to be there. It was also starting to feel just a little crowded on base. Between avoiding Immortal and Kate and dealing with the awkward silences when Shapesmith was around, it was almost too much to bear.

Originally planning on showering, Rex now found himself entering the common room where he saw Rae. When he had entered the shower-room he heard all too familiar giggles coming from the closest stall and immediately turned tail.

Rae was tiredly rubbing her neck will discussing something with Amanda. Her gaze landing on Rex as he got closer, she then hurriedly beckoned him over.

“Rex, we’re thinking about drinking tonight, some of the team has already said they aren’t interested, but you think you’ll come?”

Drinks sounded amazing. Nothing like the embrace of alcohol to take your mind off every individual problem of the Guardians. But if everyone was invited, then the likelihood was, that so was Kate. And he was not in the mood to deal with her. “Uh, no I don’t think so.”

“What? I have never seen you refuse drinks before.” Amanda jeered, arching one of her brows.

“Come on it’s just going to be a simple relaxing evening, Rex.” Rae pulled the headpiece of her suit back, smoothing out her hair. “You deserve it, I deserve it, the whole team deserves it.” She returned her gaze to Rex and sighed after a moment. “Kate won’t be there.” Rae rolled her eyes.

“Well, who said that’s why I didn’t want to come?” Rex frowned.

“Just come for drinks Rex. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Fine, but it had better be something strong.” Rex spoke with an edge of reluctance to his tone.

__

“Are you shitting me?” Shit, he had been so concerned with the potential presence of Kate he forgot about you. You tensed as he entered the room and looked back at him, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“Hey Rex.” Rae squints at him and gives him a ‘shut up’ look, before mouthing ‘sorry’ at Killdeer.

Did Rae do this intentionally? God leave it to her to try and bridge gaps in the team. This does not even have anything to do with her. He repeated her words from earlier back to her, parroting her tone. “What is this bullshit, Rae?”

Rae gave him a guilty shrug and opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the cool tone of Rudy’s voice. He was asking you more about your abilities, Rex could recognize what he was doing a mile away. He was not just interested in you, he was checking off boxes, collecting more information. Rudy was probably analyzing everything you said, debating whether you was lying or not. This was something Rex wanted to know more about, his attention left Rae and turned to the newly blossoming conversation.

“-would your stab wound begin to heal as soon as the sharp object was removed?”

“You trying to plan ahead?” Deflecting, not a great sign as far as innocence goes.

“I think? I have not really had to try. But if I have ever cut myself while cooking or anything like that, it’s healed basically before my eyes. But couldn’t you just learn that from my file?”

Rudy and Rex’s gaze immediately met; this was the first bit of incriminating evidence that they physically had. More than hunches.

“What?” She said, looking around at the other teammates.

“We don’t have access to each other files-”

__

An awkward confrontation followed but eventually was somewhat explained away. Something they would revisit later. Towards the end of the evening, Rex was starting to actually enjoy himself somewhat. Rae had returned to the Cecil and Donald debate, which Rudy refused to participate in it. He just gave them all incredulous looks and continued to cut in occasionally, to ask Killdeer questions. Shapesmith eventually returned too, but in Rex’s opinion, he did not add anything of consequence to the conversation and was easily ignored.

The more drinks he had the more he felt his gaze rest on the newcomer. He still felt that earlier determination to memorize her face, assuredly just to avoid her. The first few times she caught him he quickly looked away, but eventually, he just stared. If he had drank a little less maybe he would feel how awkward this was, but he could not quite rip his eyes away.

A small thought popped into his mind. A quiet one, hardly audible. She was pretty. She did not just have pretty eyes or a pleasing curve of the lip. But she was actually pretty.

Now he looked away. His gaze landed on the table in front of them. Somehow this had to be related to Rudy’s suspicions. Maybe her powers encompassed drawing people in. Making them comfortable. If Rex thought about it long enough it made sense. She was still a worthless addition, even if she just so happened to be easy to look at for…twenty minutes straight? Was that really the time?

Rex was drawn out of his thoughts at the sound of her saying goodbye. By the time he looked up he hardly caught a glance before she was gone. He turned to see Rae giving him a knowing look, which he immediately scoffed at. But his gaze quickly returned to the door.

Side effects of her powers or not, this was not ideal.

Author's Note: I started to get writer's block pretty hard midchapter. So I worked on Chapter 5 when I did not know what to do in this chapter. So chapter five is about a third done, and there's a nice amount of forced proximity hehe

Divider credit: @/ saradika

Chapter five