#and she earns your trust and bond each and every time

[binah-beloved]

in a new cycle, a newly naive you gets injured once again. it's a deep gash, painful but not life threatening, the Abnormality that caused it leaving countless similar wounds in its wake. you're waiting for the crowd in the Department of Welfare to clear a little when you hear footsteps behind you, Binah gesturing for you to follow her away from everyone. she sits you down in an empty room, a small medical kit in her hands, and carefully begins to sew your wound shut.

it stings, the needle sinking into your skin with each methodical motion. Binah wipes the blood away as she works without a word, though there's a slight gleam of concern in her dark eyes as you both sit in silence. when she finally knots the thread tightly, you can't help but inhale sharply, pain sparking across the area like lightning. it quickly fades, though, when you feel a cool, firm hand touch your cheek, your Sephirah cradling your face in her palm as if she's done it a hundred times and speaking with a soft, laden tone.

"Shh. You are safe, now."

[uncookedfeeler]

How it all started 👹

Jessi x Reader

Tags : 5k, smut

Loyalty is a deep and enduring commitment that manifests itself in trust, respect and support. It implies a sense of obligation and responsibility where each individual acts in the best interests of the other. This bond, which grows stronger with each passing week, month and year, is the cornerstone of any successful partnership.

For the investor, it's the guarantee of a long-term financial investment, not without risk of course, but also the exclusivity of every opportunity linked to the person being supported.

For the celebrity, it's the guarantee of permanent and intangible financial support, as long as the terms of the contract are respected, as well as access to other resources in the eventuality of difficulties.

It's been a busy few weeks for you, and as the number of visitors to your establishments increases, so does your workload. The financial returns are excellent, your customers seem satisfied with your services on both sides, and there's no sign of a downturn in business, which in a way doesn't bother you and the last thing you want to see right now is problems like scandal.

Scandals are an integral part of the industry in which you do business, and you are no stranger to them yourself. Before you implemented a 'zero' policy in your establishment, there were a number of outbursts from investors who were a little too physical with your customers, which earned you some minor concerns, but also a great deal of respect and trust for the way you handled these problems.

And nothing prepared you for the one that set the nation alight last night, incriminating your oldest client and long-time friend. So you arranged a meeting with this person.

It's not uncommon for you to appear in public at your favourite club, enjoying your own service and waving to the many clients and staff who fill the place. Amid discreet glances and whispers, you sit down at a table in the middle of the room and lean back.

Quickly, one of your employees, accompanied by the manager, appears in front of you to serve you. 

"Welcome sir, I'm sorry I didn't come to greet you myself", says the manager in a hurry, the little man looks rather stressed and his face doesn't remind you of anything, probably a newcomer, you think.

The young woman next to him, much more stoic, bends down slightly to greet you.

"Good evening, sir, how are you? A double with ice as usual?" The familiar tone seems to disturb the manager, who is about to reprimand her.

"Yes, please, Seola," you say, smiling at the spectacle unfolding before you, and after taking your order, the young woman gives her manager a dark look of authority before returning to the bar.

"I'm sorry sir, I'll make sure she's disciplined, please excuse her", the manager says to you, bowing to show his respect.

"Haha, don't worry newbie, even if you're her boss she'll give you a hard time" you give the manager a light pat on the back before letting him disappear from your sight.

Shortly afterwards, Seola appears with your drink and sits down opposite you as if nothing had happened. 

"So what's he been saying since yesterday?" you ask her in a low voice.

"People seem worried, the fact that it happened right outside the bar doesn't help, especially with the media attention of the scandal", she replies, matching the volume of your voice.

"It's not good at all, is it?"

"Not really, people here know she's directly connected to you, so we need to solve the problem quickly, at least internally"

"Leave it to me, sorry for the trouble"

The young woman gets up and goes back to her work, information gathering is crucial in your field and people like Seola, who are your ears within your walls, make it a lot easier. 

And just as you're enjoying your drink with a clear mind, you hear the sound of heels tapping in the distance, then the surrounding noise falls to a deadly silence, and without even looking in the right direction, you know who's just entered the room, and quickly all eyes follow the progress of the woman who appears behind you and finally sits down opposite you where Seola was just a minute ago.

Under the red and dim light of the room, a small woman with long light brown hair appears, wearing a strappy purple outfit that accentuates her huge breasts, slightly hidden by a large sparkling crystal heart necklace. Her make-up is striking, with heavy eye shadow and a bold lip, giving her a pouty look.

"Sit down Jessica" you say firmly and loudly so that the whole room can clearly hear your order, supported by your furious expression, the young woman obeys without saying a word except for a simple one:

"Oppa ... I" that comes weakly from her trembling voice.

It's a show of dominance that you are preparing to display to your audience. Jessi, the woman with such a charismatic and strong image, is crushed under your authority and you intend to make an example of her.

With a simple, dramatic wave of your hand, you ask one of the waiters to bring a glass of water to your table and, leaning back in your armchair, you light a cigarette, even though it's forbidden inside, but no one will dare reprimand you, given the way things have turned out.

The woman keeps her legs together, doesn't dare look at you, and stares at the glass of water in front of her. She's obviously waiting for you to start your scolding, as usual. But this time she's gone too far and you stare at her for several long minutes.

"Oppa, I... I didn't mean to cause so much trouble, The kid came out of nowhere and my friend just overreacted. It's not like I pushed him myself" The young woman finally breaks the silence and looks up at you for the first time.

You don't know where to start, the situation is so bad from every angle, so you just listen.

"Of course I feel sorry for the boy, but with the CCTV and now the police questioning, it's just nonsense. People really do have time on their hands".

You already knew she wasn't the most mature of the bunch, but her reasoning is completely wrong, so you take the lead.

"Is that all you've got to say to me?" Anger slowly builds inside you, from the tension and adrenaline pumping through you.

"YOUR FUCKING FRIEND HIT A CHILD, A MINOR, IN FRONT OF MY ESTABLISHMENT, FOR GOD'S SAKE!" You throw your half-empty glass down, shattering it into a million pieces as it hits the floor. You continue to make large movements towards Jessi, explaining:

"LISTEN TO ME, JESSICA, I AM TIRED OF CLEANING UP AFTER YOU. YOU PUT MY BUSINESS AND EVERYONE AROUND US AT RISK WITH YOUR BULLSHIT".

"Oppa, I'm sorry, sit down." Her voice shaking, she also stands up to try and calm you down, but to no effect.   

In your exaggerated anger, you rip off his collar, throw it on the table and grab his face, squeezing his cheeks hard.

"NOW YOU'RE GOING TO LISTEN TO ME VERY CAREFULLY, YOU'RE GOING TO SORT OUT THIS PROBLEM WITH THE POLICE AND THEN YOU'RE GOING TO LEAVE YOUR LABEL AND MAKE YOURSELF VERY SMALL BECAUSE I SWEAR TO YOU, IF I SEE YOUR UGLY FACE ON TV AGAIN, WE'RE REALLY GOING TO HAVE A PROBLEM".

The pressure and violence of your words overwhelms Jessi, who begins to cry her eyes out, her make-up suffering the effects and running down her face. From the outside, the scene seems to have shocked your audience, who are witnessing a public humiliation, but that's all it takes to show that you're still in control of the situation.

You let go of the woman's face, still in shock, and you can see in her eyes that she is terrified and didn't expect this when she arrived.

"Go and freshen up in a private room, I'll join you in 5 minutes, we haven't finished our discussion yet," you order her, snapping your fingers, and the young woman complies before disappearing from the main room,

You turn to your staff to apologise for the mess and you do the same to everyone in the room, the audience seems to have been captivated by the scene, leaving a feeling of respect but also fear. Finally, you make your way to the corridor where the private rooms are located.

Access to the corridor is controlled by scanning a membership card to open a sliding-door that blends seamlessly into the wall. Although entry to your establishments is already by selection, those who wish can pay to gain access to these private rooms.

Once the door is open, you enter a corridor about twenty metres long, with several doors on either side. Each of these rooms is numbered and equipped for total privacy. As you walk along with your hands in your pockets, one of the doors on your left unlocks and you see one of your clients and former idol, Ms Seolhyun, step out:

"Good evening, Madame. I hope you're having a lovely evening? Everything going well inside?" you say with a warm smile as you stop in front of door N°4, greeting her with a simple nod.

“Good evening, Sir! Everything's going great... I..I just need to go to the toilet, thank you so much for your concern!”, replies the young woman as she leans over to greet you, her large breasts on full display.

You notice the delightful sweat on her face and her gorgeous, slightly flushed complexion. You even take the time to pull up the strap of her dress that has slipped off her shoulder, being careful not to drop the access card that is stuck between her two magnificent boobs. Then you move aside to let her pass.

You discreetly peek inside and see one of your old friends, Mr Hang, sitting on the sofa at the back of the room, enjoying the mouth of a short-haired woman while playing with the breasts of another.

You shut the door yourself with your foot until you hear the click of the latch, sealing the privacy of your clients once again, and make your way back to the room next door, wearing No. 6, you take your hands out of your pockets and pull the belt out of your trousers before wrapping it around your hand. Gently, you scan your card again on the badger by the door and enter the room.

You move slowly into the room, your footsteps echoing lightly on the tiles, each inch adding gravity to the moment, and stop before a kneeling Jessi, her eyes fixed on the floor.

Without a word, you drop your belt at her feet, immediately attracting the young woman's attention, her gaze rising towards you with the anxiety she is trying to hide.

You walk past her, staring at her coldly, and sit down on the beige leather bench just behind Jessi, who is still kneeling. She now has her back to you, emphasising the vulnerability of her posture in the face of your lack of response.

And for the first time since you entered, you start talking to her : 

“Come here, darling” you say in a soft, affectionate voice and you see her obey without hesitation. She leans towards the belt on the floor, clutching it between her teeth with total obedience, in a show of deliberate submission. As she moves towards you on all fours, her eyes lowered, she seems to be aware of your penetrating gaze, which follows her without distraction, detailing her every move with silent satisfaction.

Finally, she reaches the seat and gently lifts her head to offer you your belt, her eyes tentatively searching your gaze for reassurance. In that suspended moment, you reach for your belt, then gently loop the strap around her neck, adjusting the buckle with cold precision. The belt tightens just enough to remind her of her existence without compromising her breathing. You take care to use the notch, deliberately drilled a little lower, adapted for this precise use.

“There you go” you murmur in a low, confident voice, Jessi's eyes rise slowly towards you, filled with unreserved submission, but also with a deep and palpable desire, the young woman is waiting for you to set your devotion on her.

“I'm sorry, my darling, for what I did before in front of everyone”, you gently reach out your hand to her, letting your fingers caress her still red cheek with tenderness, your thumb caressing it in a slow gesture, as if you wanted to erase your mistake, the young woman in her vulnerability closes her eyes and slowly lets her head rest on your thigh.

“But... you've been very naughty today and daddy needs to give you a little punishment, do me a favour and take off my trousers” and without further do the young woman complies and starts unbuttoning your trousers and then pulling off your underpants to free your semi-hard cock.

Jessi wraps her fingers around your shaft, gently stroking it to the head in a few thrusts. Then she extends her tongue and slides it along the underside of your cock, from the base to the tip. You let out a soft moan, your head falling back. "Go on girl, just like that..."

She swirls her tongue around your bulbous head, licking the beads of pre-cum dripping from the tip. Then she wraps her lips around it and sucks hard, lowering her head until the glans touches the back of her throat.

"Mmmmh! Now I recognise my little Jessica..." You gasp slightly as Jessi begins to rock her head back and forth, sucking on you with deep desire. One hand cupping and stroking your swollen balls as she works your shaft with her lips and tongue.

In no time at all, your cock is soaked in saliva and throbbing against the roof of her mouth. Jessi gives your swollen head a few more licks before pulling out. "Mmm do you like it when I do this daddy? Let me take care of your big cock a little longer.

She stays on her knees and slowly slides the straps of her tight dress to the side, exposing her huge tits as they bounce under the effect of gravity. You look at her lustfully and your cock continues to harden as they begin to push against each other.

She takes your thick shaft and presses it between her soft mounds, wrapping it in warm, soft flesh, squeezing her breasts around it and sliding it up and down. You just watch blissfully as your cock disappears between the flesh of her breasts, again and again.

Jessi continues to fuck you slowly and sensually, occasionally moving to suck the head of your cock before pushing it back into her cleavage. Her heavy breasts engulf it completely, your thick shaft disappearing each time before reappearing glistening with sweat. The wet, obscene sounds of her movements fill the room.

"What a needy little slut", you growl in approval as she gags and drools on your cock "You like choking on my big cock, don't you?" She hums in response, the vibrations making you roll your eyes.

Saliva drips down her chin as she works you, and you can't resist tangling your fingers in her soft hair, gripping it tightly as you begin to thrust into her mouth. "That's it, take it all in like a good girl", you command.

Jessi relaxes her throat, letting you push your cock deeper until you feel her nose pressing against your pubic bone. You hold her down, your heavy balls resting on her chin before you pull out. She gasps, tears stinging the corners of her eyes, only to see you thrust back in.

You use her mouth like a fleshlight, thrusting into her head and grunting with pleasure. Drool drips down her chin as she gags and chokes on your thick meat. But she was a fighter, she took everything you gave her.

Pulling back abruptly, you slap her face with your saliva-soaked cock, leaving traces of her own saliva on her cheeks. "Open up you little slut," you say, lifting her chin with the tip. "Ah!" Jessi screams as you thrust your cock back into her open mouth. As you start to thrust, you pull on the belt around her neck, tightening it just enough to make her dizzy. Her eyes roll back and she moans like a whore.

Holding her neck tightly, you finally let go of her hair and start slapping her fake tits hard, the impact of your thrusts leaving red marks on her body and you really let go, brutally fucking her face. Her throat swells obscenely with each deep thrust.

"Take it, you cock hungry bitch!" you growl, punctuating your words with particularly vicious thrusts. "Choke on my cock!"

Tears stream down her face as she chokes and spits, her throat convulsing around you, you can feel her dizziness from the lack of air and the rough treatment. But you don't care. All you care about is using your property for your pleasure.

Just before you spit your load, you pull out and point your cock at her face. Jessi manages to get her hands up just in time to grab your thick, heavy balls and stroke your cock as I come. Shot after shot of hot, sticky cum splashes into her face, coating her cheeks, nose and open mouth. She swallows as much as she can but it drips down her chin and onto her breasts.

"Tsk tsk, you're a mess", you say, chuckling darkly as you pull yourself in "Get up and take your dress off, we're going to have a chat while I claim your little pussy again".

Jessi stands up on shaky legs, her tiny body glistening with sweat and cum. Her once innocent face is now covered in your thick, sticky cum. Tears stream down her cheeks as the reality of what has just happened begins to sink in. She looks up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging you to comfort and reassure her.

You pull her towards you, hold her trembling body in your arms and let her rest on your shoulder. "Shhh, it's all right, my little girl", you coo softly, running your fingers through her tangled hair "I'm sorry, Daddy, I was naughty, I didn't mean any harm".

You slowly let her sit on you, her little body spreading out as you stroked her back. Her breasts, now covered with your fingerprints, rise with each shuddering breath. You lean down and take a stiff nipple between your lips, sucking and swirling your tongue around the sensitive bud. A soft moan escapes her as you lavish your attention on her abused breasts.

You align your still rock hard cock with her fully soaked pussy. With a slow, deep thrust, you bury yourself inside her, moaning as you feel her silky walls tighten around you. She lets out a cry, a mixture of pleasure and pain, as you thrust your thick cock into her cunt.

You begin to move, establishing a steady rhythm that makes her pussy throb around your throbbing cock. Her hands come to grip your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as you fuck her. Leaning down, you capture her lips in a passionate kiss, your tongue thrusting into her mouth to claim every inch of her.

Pulling away, you plant hot, mouth open kisses along her neck before latching onto her pulse point and sucking hard to leave your mark. She arched her back against you, her hips undulating in response to your deep, powerful thrusts. The wet sound of skin against skin echoes around the room, mingling with her moans of need.

"Sounds like someone needed that", you growl into her ear. "Your pussy is really tight, is it my big cock you miss so much?" Grabbing her hips hard enough to leave bruises, you thrust into her, the force of your thrusts bouncing her off your thighs.

Reaching between her spread thighs, you find her sensitive clit and begin to rub tight circles over the swollen bud. She lets out a high-pitched squeal, her head bobbing from side to side as you pull her closer to the edge. Her pussy begins to ripple and quiver around your cock, signalling her impending orgasm.

"That's it baby, let yourself go" you instruct as you pinch her clit between your fingers. "Play on my big cock like a good little slut". Her body tensed, her back on the table as her orgasm overwhelmed her. She begins to convulse, clear fluid gushing from her pussy, covering your cock and balls.

As you feel her tight pussy milking your cock, you let out a bestial grunt. Pulling out, you flip her stomach onto the table, grab your belt again, throw her head back and force your way into her still throbbing hole, giving her no time to come down from her euphoria.

You thrust into her with brutal, punishing strokes, the wet sounds of your cock sinking into her cum-soaked pussy obscenely loud. She moans and sobs, her battered body no match for your relentless assaults. The force of your thrusts shakes her entire body, her crushed tits swaying beneath her with each stroke of your hips.

Leaning over her, you bite her shoulder, growling and moaning like a wild beast as you thrust into her. Your balls slap against her clit with each thrust, bringing her to the brink of another earth-shattering orgasm.

"I'm going to cum, hold your pussy tight", you moan, your thrusts becoming erratic and you tug on your belt as your orgasm approaches. "I'm going to stuff my cum into this fertile pussy." You pound into her a few more times before thrusting deep and crashing against her womb. With a loud groan you explode, painting her insides with thick streams of hot cum.

You continue to rock inside her, driving your sperm into her quivering hole. She moans and gasps as your cock twitches inside her, each spurt sending sparks of pleasure and pain through her body.

Finally, exhausted, you collapse onto your back and pull her onto you. She lies limp, still impaled on your softening shaft, her mixed fluids flowing around your cock. You wrap your arms around her and hold her close as she kisses you lovingly, her small body shaking from the force of her orgasm.

"Shhh, it's all right now", you soothe her, covering her face and neck with soft kisses " I've missed your body, feeling your pussy milking me like that reminded me of all the times I got you pregnant, but we need to talk about what's next, darling". You whisper compliments in her ear until her breathing slowly calms down.

While you're still slumped on the bench, with Jessi resting on top of you, your phone buzzes with an incoming text message. Pulling it out of your pocket, you see that it's from your friend Mr Hang.

When you open the message, you are immediately greeted by an extremely obscene photo. In the shot, three young women - Seolhyun, Choa and Jimin are kneeling in front of the camera, their faces completely covered in huge ropes of thick, creamy cum. Each of their mouths is stretched around Mr Hang's huge semi-erect cock, obviously fresh from an aggressive blow job on its thick shaft. The bulging cockhead, coated in their saliva, glistens obscenely as it emerges between their lips. You can even see trickles of cum dripping from her chin and splashing onto her swollen breasts.

The sheer depravity of the photo makes your cock throb in Jessi's pussy. She moans and clenches around you in response to your arousal. A diabolical thought crosses your mind as to how to respond to Mr Hang's message.

Gently, you encourage Jessi to lift herself off your rigid pole. Cum immediately pours from her gaping hole, her stomach and thighs already soaked in the creamy cum you've pumped into her. It's at this moment that you realise just how much of your cum you've filled Jessica with - it's impossible not to get pregnant with such a load.

Moving surprisingly quickly for having just ejaculated inside her, Jessi collapses onto her back on the table and spreads her legs. Streams of pearly cum continue to ooze from her pussy, running down her slit and spreading over her tanned skin.

You reach out to steady Jessi's right ankle, lift her leg and use your other hand to tilt your phone for the shot. Through the lens you frame the perfect shot - Jessi's cum-filled pussy opening invitingly on the messy table, her swollen pussy lips smooth and glistening with your cum. Swirling ribbons of cum paint the insides of her thighs and the surface of the table a pure white.

You snap a few photos to immortalise the debauchery that followed your crude coupling, the obscene evidence of her well-trained hole. Pressing the screen, you send the most incriminating picture to Mr Hang in response to his obscene message, knowing that he will appreciate it.

As she rests her leg, she looks up at you coquettishly, her face flushed and her eyes heavy with desire. Your palm lands on her ass check with a resounding slap as you rub the pink imprint of your hand across her tanned skin.

"That's how I love you Jessica" you growl, your voice rough with lust. "And I'm far from finished with your wicked cunt, unless I change and hammer your arse".

Jessi moans in need and arching her back, presents her dripping cunt to you like a bitch in heat. You slap her arse again, leaving another red mark on her creamy cheeks. The way she moans and wiggles her hips fuels the fires of your excitement.

You push into Jessi's dripping pussy again as she lies on her stomach and spreads herself for you. "Remember that first night?" You ask, grunting as you sink deeper into her tight warmth. “When my little Jessica spread her legs for her daddy" She lifts her head and gives you a shy smile. "Oh yeah? You really remember our first time together ? When I signed that first contract?"

You grin, remembering clearly. "How could I forget? Eighteen years ago, you were this cheeky 17-year-old young rapper trying to make a name for yourself. So fucking eager and innocent, not realising what you were really getting into with me".

Jessi lets out a small laugh. "Innocent? Please, I knew exactly what I was getting into when I agreed to be your artist and personal fucktoy. I just had no idea how long you'd keep me around once you'd had your fun". Jessi moans, her back arching as she takes you completely inside her "Mmm yes, I'll never forget that Daddy", she moans. "You were so gentle... the first man to claim me completely".

You grip her hips tighter, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as you slap her roughly from behind. "And look at you now", you growl in approval. "My perfect little breeding slut. So eager for my cum."

"Always, my body and my womb belong to you," she says, thrusting herself back against you. "You're the only one who's ever satisfied me... who's ever filled me so well"

"Well, yes... that too. But also that you were the one. The girl I wanted to make mine forever," you slow your thrusts, savouring the feeling of her wet heat clutching you. "And I did. I've kept this tight pussy all to myself for eighteen years now."

"Mmm yeah, and what a crazy ride it's been..." Jessi muses, clutching my cock. "Like when I got knocked up, huh?"

You nod, remembering the panic and subsequent solution. "The first couple of times you told me you were pregnant, I nearly had a heart attack. I couldn't risk you carrying my child yet."

"Yep. Abortions and the morning-after pill have become my best friends'". She jokes dryly. "Although I suppose I should be grateful that you always went out of your way to help and support me afterwards".

You nod. "Yes, it's true. I could never get rid of that gorgeous bum, and I haven't even mentioned your tits" You punctuate the sentence with a hard slap on her hip.

Jessi yelps, then moans as she pushes herself back against me "Ffffuck, keep it up. I'll cum again if you do".

You smile and obey, picking up a relentless pace, watching her ass jiggle with each slam of your hips against hers. You slid one hand down her body to squeeze her tits as you fucked her mercilessly. "That's it, come for me Jessica. Squeeze my cock like the perfect little cock muff you are".

"Ungh, so close!" She gasps, the walls around you begin to throb, signalling her impending orgasm "Fuck, I'm coming again... I'm coming!"

Jessi's pussy tightened and she came with a loud moan, her whole body shaking with the force of her orgasm. The grip on her pussy was too strong and with a moan you buried yourself deep and came violently, shooting thick ropes of cum straight into her quivering pussy, still full from your previous load.

You collapsed together on the table, gasping for breath as the aftershocks rippled through us. After a moment you withdrew carefully, watching with satisfaction as your cum dripped out of her wet, saturated hole.

Jessi lay on her back and look at you with a lazy, satiated expression "Fuck, you really let it all out deep inside me, I'm not going to be able to get any more, look how my pussy is overflowing".

You giggle and take her in your arms. "Yes? Well, get used to it again. Because this body is still mine, as it has been for the last eighteen years. And I still have a long way to go before I'm done with it".

She smiled mischievously at you "Mmm, I love it when you get all dominant and take charge. I suppose this is the part where you stuff my pussy every day with your seed?"

You smile back and kiss her deeply, knowing she was right. "And I intend to keep this pussy mine for at least another eighteen years. At least. So get ready because the rules have changed, no more contraception or abortion, it's your turn to make me drink your milk, Mummy"

.

.

Your bedroom is softly illuminated by the glow of the bedside lamps. The air is thick with the musky scent of sex and sweat. Jessi lay on the king-size bed, her hair fanning out against the silk pillowcase. Her voluptuous body drenched in sweat, the marks of your passionate lovemaking visible on her ivory skin in the form of red scratches and love bites.

You stand over her, your handsome cock still semi-erect, glistening with a mixture of your combined juices. Her freshly crumpled contract, stained with traces of your thick, potent cum, lay forgotten at the foot of the bed, a testament to the depraved acts you'd just indulged in together.

"Please", Jessi moans, looking up at you with desperate, lustful eyes. "Come empty yourself inside me. I need to feel you come inside me again and again until my womb is filled with your seed."

She spreads her thighs in invitation, exposing her dripping, well-fucked pussy to your delight. "Make me pregnant, Daddyy. Now that my career is over, come and start my life as a mother. Please ravage me again!"

You tower over her, a predatory gleam in your eye as you watch the spectacle of debauchery before you. Your aching cock contracts and hardens at her shameless pleas, ready to deliver another massive load deep into her fertile young womb.

[readychilledwine]

A Helping Hand

Rhysand Week Day 4 : Lord of Night

Summary - High Lord, Husband, father. Rhysand's plate is just far too full, leading the Inner Circle to take over some duties.

Warnings - workaholic Rhysand, discussions of classism, new dad Rhys, platonic bond, loose editing so forgive me if I fix things later

A/N - I am so sorry this is late! I think someone *cough baby daddy cough* accidently deleted it when he did a run through for me. But anyways, happy late day 4 and day 5 of @officialrhysandweek! It'll be a double post day 💕

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

“Please just let me handle this for you,” you were firm in the request, hand still on the request of approval to renovate the Opera house in the Rainbow. “We both know this project is completely unneeded. There is no reason for you to waste your time penning the letter.”

Rhysand stared at where your hand met the paper. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, “I-”

“No. It's time for us to have a serious discussion.” You took the paper from him and then held his hands. “Rhysand, you have spread yourself far too thin. You are not sleeping well with a newborn, you are helping Feyre as she's healing, you are recovering from trauma. Let me help you by organizing the report by who should actually be handling them.”

Rhys seemed to consider your words before nodding, “I want final-”

“Rhysand, we have known each other for 500 years. Do you truly not trust me enough to make a decision based on your preferences?”

He tugged that power exchange bond between the two of you, silently asking for a bit of your energy. You offered it to him without hesitation, without even so much as thinking about your well-being over his. “I do not want the fae in this court knowing I'm not the one running the court.” You couldn't help but sigh and roll your eyes and stare at him, blinking as if to say, “Duh.” His lips twitched into a smile at you, “What are you going to do, sweetheart? Forge my signat..” His eyes went wide as he realized that was exactly what you had planned. “I expect brief rundowns first.”

“And you will have them. Now go take a nap.”

The Inner Circle gathered in the new father's office claiming reports left and right. Cassian took anything involving Illyria and the training camps. Azriel took anything involving newcomers to the City of Starlight, border related issues, and requests for visiting. Mor and Amren split Hewn City. Dividing those reports among issues relating to rumors of uprisings or requests for help and sanctuary from tortured females. It left you with things regarding the inner workings of Velaris. You were curled in your own office, writing the rejection letter for the Opera House Project. The Opera House had been a gift to Velaris after Rhysand's return home. It was barely more than a few years old and every single feature had been planned to perfection by you and Rhysand as a way to heal the odd bind that tied you two together. The wealthy fae of Velaris were asking to redo the seating. Specifically, they wanted the seats to be made larger. 

You knew this wasn't for comfort. You had fallen in love with studying the patterns of consumerism throughout Prythian history. You knew this project was aimed at accessibility. Less sears meant higher prices for shows. Higher prices meant exclusion of the middle and lower classes. Exclusion from the arts was dangerous, though. Something you, Rhysand, and Feyre stood firmly against. 

Hours seemed to pass as you finished one thing and moved to the next, realizing how far behind Rhysand had gotten. He was hardly sleeping, rotating nights with Feyre, or just forcing her to sleep while he handled nights with a newborn alone. He was being the father he never had. One who earned the title of Dad, and you knew the last thing he'd want was the fae he cared so much for to suffer because of it. 

The sunset when Cassian arrived, his work completed. “Rhys has been given the gist of everything. I am to only have to send one thing to the camp leaders,” Cassian slid a letter, one penned by himself over to you. “Rhysie is having them start to direct all issues to me first. Using your whole chain of command idea.” 

Silence. 

Cassian's words were met with silence as you swallowed hard, holding in tears of pride. “He's delegating?!”

The commander nodded, scarred lips twitching to smirk. “He is.”

You'd never faked his signature so fast, quill flying across the parchments, “This is good.”

Azriel was next with Nuala and Cerridwen in tow, “City guard is to report issues to the twins from now on,” he leaned into his chair. “If they deem it serious enough, they will handle it unless I need to get involved.”

“And if you can't handle it,” you questioned as a joke. 

Azriel scoffed before schooling his reaction to your jab, “Then, and only then, is Rhys to get involved. My part of his reports are done and sent. I didn't think anyone would have issues with me answering security related issues.” 

They'd be a fool to, is what you wanted to reply with. Azriel was not the type of male to fuck with unless you had a death wish. He was petty at times and loved to plot. 

Mor came next, throwing herself dramatically into the chair. “I hate how your Office is a dry zone,” she groaned. “I'll be visiting daddy dearest.” 

You gagged at that and the two of you launched into a gossip session. Turns out, her father had taken Rhysand's recent absence in Hewn City as an open invitation to run a few illegal trade rings. Rings Mor was all too happy to be putting an end to. 

“That summarizes what Amren and I will both be dealing with,” she yawned, perfect red nails flying to her lips. “I'm going to bed.”

10.

11. 

Midnight.

2am rolled around and your door opened again, a sleepy Rhysand carrying a sleeping Nyx. “Go to bed,” his tone was commanding but held an air of affection to you. “You're no better than me.”

You only maintained eye contact, smirking as you put his name on a document approving a community vegetable garden and greenhouse, “Yet here we are,” you whispered. “All your reports, acquisitions, and petitions done and handled.”

His face fell, eyes shutting as he nodded, “You all got me caught up?”

With a wave of your hand, all the stacks vanished to their proper locations where they would sit and wait to be opened by their receivers. “We did,” you stood as silently as possible and moved to him and Nyx, “Do you want me to go lay him down?”

Rhysand only responded by pulling you into a tight side hug, his face burying in your hair, “How can I repay you for this? You have no clue what this meant to Feyre and I.”

The hug was payment enough. Contact with your best friend making that power bond hum as you hugged him back, “No repayment is necessary, Rhys. We all need help sometimes.”

“But-”

You whispered again, interrupting him, “We all need help sometimes.”

Understand, gratefulness, and admiration filled his almost violet colored gaze, “How did I get blessed with Feyre as my mate and you as my carranam?”

���Good question,” you shot back. “Maybe it was so we could keep you humble.” You took Nyx slowly, moving to walk the little heir back to his nursery. “Or maybe it was to keep you from dying in your office. Goodnight, Rhysand.”

You could tell he wanted to sass you back, to have the last word. It had been so long since that side of him came out, and you were glad to see a day of rest brought some fire back to him. He seemed to settle with nodding, walking backwards as he watched you take Nyx, “This isn't over. Once I wake up refreshed tomorrow, it's on. Goodnight, Y/n.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[flower-blossoms654]

I love that even though Isha doesn’t speak, we still have such a good feel of her character. She is not less than because she doesn’t speak, nor is she looked over. She’s bright in every scene she is in, Zaun’s little sun with a toothy smile.

Just for a moment, we got to see how brightly she too saw the world. A pretty, bright, blue world in which she found someone to love and protect her with a ferocity she trusted instead of feared.

It was that love that strengthened her legs, that gave her the courage to shoot forward. It was that love that steadied her arm with the gun to protect her older sister, when it once shook and struggled to pull the trigger.

Isha “the one who protects”. And she did that as many times as she could, with tiny fists and heart and eyes full of gold.

It was understood that they had a bond before. The way Jinx’s hideout became brighter, and there was a corner made just for Isha. The way that Isha wanted her hair dyed just like Jinx’s. The hugs and laughter and the way she screamed when having to leave Jinx behind. The way she fiddled with gears and markers and drew clouds on her skin with shiny metal securing two braids in her hair.

But it all seems to make sense in that final scene. When it’s just Isha. It’s no longer the signs or echoes of love but Isha telling the audience directly. This is her song. This is her strength. This is her sacrifice. This is her love for Jinx, in every happy memory she has had with her. She communicates in a way that is so Isha. “The world is beautiful and so is my older sister. I love her and I want to protect her.”

And it transcends words.

It is simple for Isha. Jinx made her have faith in herself. Gave her a safe space to live freely. Loudly. With wide smiles and explosions. Blue smoke and powder.

Dancing together. Laying together. Coloring beetles and bugs before a dramatic battle. Jumping without fear of the landing or the fall. Covering her eyes in the bath as dye stains her hair. Nails in pink and blue polish securing the braids in her hair. Spray paint in blue and pink (she let her be blue, she let her be blue) as they run after each other. A secret handshake with finger guns. Jumping to scare her big sister, and the smile she earned after.

She was not scared to fall before because Jinx was holding her hand. Her hand shifts to form a familiar finger gun and a silly little “poow” leaves her lips. She is smiling. She is not scared now because Jinx was never afraid of the fall and she won’t be either.

Jinx needed someone to love her instead of fear her. And she got it. Isha was not Silco, she did not need to be darkened and drenched in blood to love something so unloveable.

“You feel it? That buzzing behind your eyes? Because you know, in a moment, it could all…poow! Best feeling in the world, kid.”

Close your eyes. Hear the buzzing and it reminds you of her. It rings in your ears like an embrace. A life marked by bad luck but not ruined by it—a life made so immeasurably better.

To Isha, Jinx was perfect. No “undoing” required.

[kismets-barista]

Hold onto your Stetson, @ohposhers; have I got some personal HickDory lore for you 😎💜🌟🫧

Excuse the insanity for those who don't feel compelled towards these two

SO!

Hickory and JD met a few good years before the events of the World Tour when Dory was traveling to find Lonesome Flats, got heatstroke and passed out in the desert. Wakes up to Hickory shadowed in the flickering light of a campfire beneath a canopy of the brightest stars he'd seen since the Neverglades, but it wouldn't be until QUITE a few months later until they really started developing crushes against each other. (Cowboy under the stars, you'd think he'd fall right then and there, right? 🌟)

Why was Hickory already in Lonesome Flats, you might ask? Where was Dickory?

In a glue trap, I say in response. Hickory came from Yodelsberg (is there a canonical name for this?) for international study and to learn about new music. He fell in love with country because yodeling and country music are actually quite gorgeous together. She Taught Me to Yodel, anyone?

Delta Dawn obviously didn't take to Dory showing up and around the town, but after some convincing by Hickory and lots of proving himself (plus a vulture attack that resulted in John Dory saving the very young niece of Delta Dawn- Clampers-) he 'earned' a place there and began to work around town.

It was weird for him.

He'd never quite settled down, until then.

(Now, the specific timeline, yearly I mean is a little muddled because I'm still crafting this, but I'll put them out about three years, now.)

John Dory was still living in Lonesome Flats, and he'd started a relationship with Hickory. They loved each other, as my cohort in crime @protagonist-art (CHECK OUT THEIR ART I LOVE THEM SM MUAH) has Hickory tell John when we get write them, "More than the moon loves the ocean." As surely as the tide pulls in and out, so the lovers return to each other.

So Via, what does Hickory think about BroZone?

Oh, my sweet star.

He doesn't know.

After returning to the devastated Troll Tree, John Dory lost a piece of his heart in the damaged pod they used to live in. It was the first time he went grey, and the memories of his brothers started shifting from what was, to what would never be again. He couldn't find it within himself to talk about them, and has his secrets.

But so does Hickory.

Girl wdym stop being so mysterious.

Heh. I know. It's just a glimpse into my dark mind /ref. Anyways, Hickory never told John Dory he was a Yodeler troll. (Another piece of lore that Quizzy and I worked on together and I think it's brilliant.)

Huh? Aren't they in a long-term relationship? Won't this cause issues later on if they don't share these things with each other?

Oh, they love every aspect of each other too much for their bond to truly be broken.

And yet.

One morning, years after just living and loving, John Dory wakes up with a massive headache and nausea.

"Maybe it's that horse that kicked me yesterday, could've gotten me harder than we both thought."

"Lemme check for a knot, Darlin'."

No knots, but there was an egg.

🌟 (Here I'll say that I'm massively in love with the headcanon that trolls conceive through true love- it isn't quite necessary for them to physically do anything unless they want to. Just them, wholeheartedly trusting and putting everything into their relationship and pouring their heart out to their partner.)

They were absolutely ECSTATIC, and rightfully terrified in their own ways. Neither of them were looking for children but not against it, and after resting for a few days they began to plan. A nursery in the house, baby books with millions of names scattered on the coffee table, toys and cute little baby clothes for when the little one hatched.

Wanna know two of the names John Dory had in mind? Rhonda and Dolly.

They were ecstatic until the night John Dory woke up absolutely ill and with a pit in his stomach.

They lost the egg, and it was the second time John Dory went grey in his life.

A week after this had happened, John Dory left a bundled lock of his hair at Hickory's nightstand and did what he knows how to do all too well. He ran.

Hickory never went too far out of Lonesome Flats in the hopes that John Dory would come back. He couldn't imagine what would happen if his love came back and didn't find him there.

The events of World Tour come about, Hickory meets Branch, and travels for the first time since John Dory left.

John Dory continued to travel, until the events of Band Together.

But don't worry, dear readers, for as surely as the tides come in, so will the lovers meet again. 🌟

Aaaand BOOM! That's it! 💜 I've got lore behind the names Rhonda and Dolly as well, and am SO down to answer any questions about them that anyone has. For you, Posh, thank you for asking and helping me to share a story I've been working on, and for everyone else that read this, thank you kindly! I hope that everyone who made it this far has quite a lovely day, or if you didn't, have a lovely day anyways!

Remember to take your meds, drink water, eat something, and stretch!

💜🌟🫧

[sunlighthroughthe-ashes]

i want to talk about how tenderly and tactfully the subject of trauma has been handled in family by choice. full credit to the original c-drama for the story — but the remake is my first introduction to the show and its premise.

families can be a person's first experience of a wound: that single unanswerable ache from which each of your hurts flow and fountain forward. it's rare for k-dramas to acknowledge this: to acknowledge that the individual to whom you are born may not belong to you. may not give you the grace you require to grow. may not take your small, hot hand; hungry for solace — and instead simply cast it aside. your family can be your first sharp disappointment — your first clear shock at the sheer ugliness of the world. to some, love is freely given — to others it is nothing more than a bone flung from a scant table. you hug the hunger like it's your own bed-pillow — it becomes your only home. the only house you ever live in.

through sanha & haejun's characters; one can see how the talons of trauma can mark you forever. both actors deserve accolades for the raw desperation and confusion in their eyes at the weight they're being asked to carry — especially inyoup. there's a muted, exhausted malaise in his eyes — the gaze of an adult caged within a teenager's body. by contrast, haejun appears younger than his years — a helpless, childlike hurt and betrayal borne by his eyes. both boys carry boulders unfit for such delicate shoulders — because there is a special kind of cruelty in asking a child to bear a burden that was never theirs to begin with. in lining their shoes with the gravel of grief since they were old enough to walk.

what does it to do to a child (in haejun's case) to be told that love is not intrinsic — and that it has to be earned? that it has to be paid back? what does it do to a child (in sanha's case) to be told that you are not enough as your own self — that you will never be forgiven for a flaw that was never yours to start with? what does it mean to taste a parent's neglect on your own tongue — to have it tint every part of your speech for the rest of time?

what does it mean to be a father to such children — as juwon's appa so fiercely upholds? to treat their scars as sacred. to harbor their hurts in his own hands. family by choice is as much about trauma as it is about healing — about the people knitted to you through their knowledge of your wounds; their patience with your past; their trust that your tears are temporary. about the neighbors, friends, and forged bonds that may not be of blood, yet sustain you nonetheless; surround your spirit with warmth. the people who choose you knowing the charred heartbreak in your chest — who love and accept you knowing the latticework of your loneliness: the people who press it all away with a single touch or smile – they are your true faith. they are your true family. they are the only ones who matter.

sanha, haejun, and juwon all have their crosses to bear — but they also have each other. there is always light to temper the dark. there is always sanha's eyes; and the way they soften when he looks at juwon: the jewel-toned reverence with which he reflects on every single thing she does for him. wherever there is trauma there is also and always a tryst with hope — a heart holding on to the idea that there will be more. there will be peace. there will be resolution. there will be sunlight at the end of the black silence.

family by choice reminds me of this quote by poet and novelist ocean vuong: "we were born from beauty. let no one mistake us for the fruit of violence—but that violence, having passed through the fruit, failed to spoil it."

[raptorladylover6969]

Every time someone says “the raptors are gonna betray The Handler”, an angel dies; because genuinely, HOW.

How can one look at a bond like THIS and think, “Yup, they’re gonna kill her.”??????

Even with the laser pointer, which is said to “make the atrociraptors kill whoever it targets” I feel like even if the laser were to be pointed at The Handler, the raptors wouldn’t do anything.

When the laser was pointed at Soyona, Red was not hesitant to kill her. If anything, she’d probably kill her when given the chance to. “You can’t engineer loyalty, you have to nurture it.” Clearly Red isn’t loyal to you if she wanted to kill you 💀 and these raptors aren’t dumb, they’re extremely intelligent and are well aware of their actions. So to claim you have “control/loyalty” over these raptors is kinda stupid when you FEAR your own raptors, and when they won’t hesitate to kill you.

Soyona is just the buyer. The raptors might be hers, but deep down, they don’t believe they are hers. She isn’t their alpha, and she definitely doesn’t seem to be part of the pack as much as The Handler is.

In terms of pack behaviour within the atrociraptors, I’ve noticed they seem to value each other over the mission at hand. When Daniel Kon tried to grab and tackle and push one of them, they ganged up on him, killing him. When the T-rex and Allosaurus got out, they completely abandoned mission and started trying to take them out since they posed a danger to the pack. And these don’t just apply to the raptors alone, but also might be towards The Handler as well.

There was a scene in the s1 finale, the warehouse scene, when Mateo crashed into it, the raptors are knocked unconscious, everything comes crashing down, and The Handler is unconscious and stuck underneath a concrete beam. When the raptors wake up, there was a part where they all walk slowly to a specific area, the exact area where The Handler was laying. They all look at her, and each other, like they’re debating on what to do. There is a slight pause, and the sounds of clanging, before the raptors run out of warehouse, finishing what they started. Seeing The Handler atop the building at the end of that episode had me thinking, “How did she get that giant beam off of her?????” Until looking back at that scene with the raptors and realizing, they mightve actually pulled it off of her. They checked to see if she was still alive, and when confirming, they dragged the beam off to let her breathe, and regain conciseness.

So clearly the raptors also value her life as a member of their pack. They’re intelligent enough to know “she isn’t of our species” and yet, they still treat her like one of them.

“The control you can have over these dinos once you really take the time to earn it.” “You can’t engineer loyalty, you have to nurture it.” It wasn’t Soyona. It was never Soyona. The Handler was the one who earned the trust, the one who took time to earn it. Changed her own mannerisms to make the raptors relate to her more. Soyona is scared of Red. There is NO BOND there between them. She doesn’t even have the right accommodations for Red to even LIVE properly. She has her locked in a room inside her PENTHOUSE in the middle of THE CITY where she can’t even get the proper exercise or food probably. And the way Red started randomly crashing out in the van??? Did anyone else notice that and how random it was??????? Red is CLEARLY not comfortable, and yet you look at the rest of the raptor pack, and you can see just how comfortable they seem to be with The Handler.

The Handler most likely created the laser pointer herself just for Soyona so she could have some control, but in reality, the whistle is a more mutual way of communication, and I will say, much more precise. (Srry Soyona 💔)

Yeah, I think the raptors are off the “how The Handler dies” list.

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — three. need in the devotee.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summ.: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. cw: canon divergent. emotional cheating. right person wrong time. no use of y/n. wc: 1k+.

previously

    First cases were always an awkward matter, getting to know new people, having them wonder if you were nice or not and wondering the same thing about them. You thought maybe having Dave around would make it less clunky. Irrevocably wrong you were, as you had to explain the divorce from your cheating husband when he asked how the bastard was.

    Everytime you thought about your divorce it made something in your brain twitch, it had been finalized four years prior but it still hurt, and you got mad at yourself for being hurt, not only because it was a hit to your gut, your non trusting nature decided to trust this one man and he broke it so easily. But it hurt more as deep down you felt like you deserved it. Like it was your karma. 

    “I watched you speak about the importance of profiling for crisis negotiation once. You seemed very passionate about it, almost like Hotch–” You held in a sigh as the genius boy possibly every unit had heard of spoke. You were an expert. A leader in your field. It just happened that your field was the one Hotchner literally wrote the book about. You would have to deal with the comparison constantly now. “Why did you transfer?” 

    “Not the pay, that I can assure you.” That earned you your first group laugh, some of them looking over at Rossi, possibly understanding now why he looked so enthusiastic about your transfer, or because he was the one who mostly talked about the fact the pay was shit. 

    “She was the only one available with experience, and she was forced to.” Aaron clarifies from his seat on the jet, having thoroughly read your paperwork by now. You nod in confirmation, not caring that it wasn’t the best look to have been forced into their unit. It was yours first anyway.

    “Familiarity with the way Hotch works was a factor too, it seems.” Some things don’t come written on paper, only the influence of being one of the unit’s founders, like Dave, guaranteed that type of information, or at least you thought so, as that fact didn’t come to you as reasoning. Still, you wouldn’t lose the opportunity to tease Aaron, even if only a bit. 

    “Familiarity is a way to put it, huh? Most of his methodology was created with me.” Scoffing loudly was his response while he shook his head in disbelief, the rest of the team glancing from you to him in curiosity. 

    “Maybe write a book about it then.” Two hours into the first jet flight and you could possibly punch him in the face to get that little shit eating grin out of it. Or maybe kiss him. 

    “I thought working with you two together would make me feel young again. It doesn’t. I’m too old for this now.” Dave points to you both and looks back to the files, bringing the conversation back to the case in hand. 

    First two months he tries not to favor your presence, sending you off with Derek, Dave or Spencer to check crime scenes, talk to suspects, witnesses, but like magnets you two always ended up beside each other, too close, shoulders touching while reading files and completing each other’s thoughts for the profiles. 

    You do try to keep your distance as best as you can as well, favoring sitting alone on the jet, talking to Emily or losing to Reid at chess, bonding with the team was an important part of what made any work the best work possible. And it’s not as in better workplace, but better at the job.

    Connecting with the team made profiling better, faster, that was why you and Hotch were quick to make connections, quick to see holes, patterns, when you were together. 

    Still you catch his annoying glances that he makes no effort to conceal when you lock eyes with him, instead he smiles with his teeth and waits for you to look away. And you usually do. 

    Las Vegas being the final destiny though, you had your mind set on not looking away when he did his well known dance of glancing and waiting for you to look back, instead getting up to your feet and walking over to him, savoring the soft, almost shy smile he gave you as he took in your every move, from your seat to the one by his side.

    You take a spray bottle out of the pocket of your FBI jacket and hand him without a word, trying to ignore the way he makes it his job to linger the soft brush your fingers against his as he read the information. 

    “Sunscreen? You know I don’t–” 

    “Don’t like the feeling on your skin, yeah, that’s a spray one, not sticky, not liquidy and it dries out completely.” Aaron listens to you intently, but still has his suspicions, being shown clearly by the way he furrowed his brows even though his heart was skipping several beats by your actions. 

    “What about the smell?” He’s properly fiddling with the bottle as if he was a kid with a toy, taking the cap off and trying to smell it through the sprayer, you roll your eyes and extend your arm to him. 

    “It’s unscented, touch and smell my arm, I’m wearing it.” You’re not really thinking it through when you almost shove your forearm on his nose, he obliges it and takes a deep breath, you feel the air leaving his nose in your skin and get suddenly shy. 

    His cheeks flush in warm pink, the product might be unscented but your skin smells like… You. He could recognize it from a mile away. He thinks to himself for a second and realizes that maybe if sunscreens had your scent he wouldn’t mind using them. And when his fingers softly touch your wrist, getting hold of it to lower it down, he is reminded of how soft you feel so he has no choice but to drop it or else he would be holding onto it for as long as you’d let him.

[tototalks]

Three quarters through King’s Rising! 🛡️🗡️

This will probably be my second to last post covering the main story, and honestly what am I actually going to do with myself after the end of this trilogy? 🫠

- Laurent and Jokaste finally meeting each other girlboss to girlboss. Blonde bitch to blond bitch. I’m living for it. Feels like watching a game of chess.

- THE BABY!!! 😨 Hard to know if she’s telling the truth on this one. But I like that either way Laurent may be a schemer and plotter, but he will not put a child in harm’s way. (Personal headcanon that after he becomes king, he outlaws underaged pets and calls it ‘Nicaise’s Law’)

- “I’m just here.” - Damen has been through so much in such a short space of time. It makes sense he just feels numb as is burned out. He’s been endlessly supportive and needs that support reciprocated too.

- The entire conversation between Damen and Laurent finally being their true identities and selves. So so vulnerable and bare. Finally all out in the open with no more secrets. Being scared and doing it anyway. I adored this. ♥️

- I also love that they’re sexually passionate for each other. Laurent especially is finally getting to take charge of his own sexuality with someone he loves and trusts. Truly stellar writing throughout that whole scene. My heart aches in a good way this time. They can finally just be in love.🙂

- I can really get behind the idea of Auguste and Damen getting along really well had circumstances been different. I feel so robbed of the fact they never got to be brothers-in-law.

- Veretians will never not confuse me with their “your ankles are showing” fully laced and buttoned modesty contrasted to the whole “oh yeah the council view the consummation of marriage.” thing - poor Pallas lol.

- Watching Laurent and Damen banter and tease and smile and laugh is literally everything I wanted for them.

- Someone should tell Kyrina snitches get stitches.

- Jokaste: “he’s a snake.”

Damen (heart eyes): I know 🥰

- Damen seeing Laurent in Akielon clothing and fully Looney Tunes dropping a pitcher of water. Iconic. That’s your man, hun, take it in. You earned it!

- LAURENT DID NOT JUST PRETEND TO BE JOKASTE 😂😂😂😂😂

- Imagine being Nikandros and trying to give your friend some advice to take his best rider on their next Metal Gear Solid mission only for said friend’s feral albino cat who hates you to butt in and declare himself just that person. Wild. Someone help Nik.

- I love that every time something goes down everyone is like “well Kastor is dumb af so this must be Jokaste’s doing.” As 👏 she 👏 should 👏

- “Is this how you do things in Vere?” “What? Effectively?” Lol okay Elle Woods

- The Akielons and Veretians bonding around the fire. There is hope for peace.🥺

- LAZAR AND PALLAS??!! I AM IN FULL SUPPORT!! (I did this with Jord and Aimeric too, so please turn out better than that, I beg.)

- As someone in an intercultural and interracial relationship, I love that Laurent and Damen can rib each other about the differences in their customs and laugh about it while also showing each other the best of it. Accurate and sweet ♥️

- And off we go through Akeilos!! I am so excited for the final chapters! 🥰

[small-z24]

Shadows of Fate 2

Summary:

Y/n, Cassian's shy and quiet sister, prefers to keep to the shadows. Unbeknownst to her, she is Azriel's mate. His shadows are inexplicably drawn to her, and as they grow closer, a slow-burn romance ensues. Cassian, ever protective of his sister, watches over her as the bond between Y/n and Azriel deepens.

Chapter 2: Keeping Secrets

Cassian had always been protective of Y/n. As the older brother, he felt it was his duty to keep her safe from the world’s dangers. When their parents died, Cassian had taken on the role of both brother and protector, a role he took very seriously. So when he noticed Y/n spending more time with Azriel, his instincts kicked in.

One evening, Cassian stood on the training grounds, watching Azriel as he practiced his swordsmanship. The movements were fluid and precise, a testament to Azriel's skill. Cassian waited until Azriel finished his set before approaching.

"Az, can we talk?" Cassian’s voice was casual, but there was a seriousness in his eyes.

Azriel nodded, sheathing his sword. "Of course. What’s on your mind?"

Cassian motioned for them to walk, leading Azriel away from the others. "It's about Y/n," he began, glancing at Azriel to gauge his reaction.

Azriel’s expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine," Cassian replied quickly. "But I've noticed you two spending a lot of time together."

Azriel nodded slowly. "Yes, we have. We’ve been getting to know each other."

Cassian stopped walking and turned to face Azriel, his gaze intense. "Az, she’s my sister. She’s been through a lot, and I don’t want to see her get hurt."

"I understand," Azriel said, meeting Cassian’s gaze steadily. "And I care about her, Cassian. More than I can explain. I would never hurt her."

Cassian studied him for a long moment before sighing. "Alright. But just know, I’m watching. She means everything to me."

Azriel nodded, a solemn promise in his eyes. "I won’t let you down."

Cassian gave a curt nod before walking away, leaving Azriel standing alone with his thoughts. Azriel knew that gaining Cassian’s trust wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to prove himself worthy of Y/n.

The next few days were filled with cautious interactions. Cassian kept a close eye on Y/n and Azriel, watching their every move. Y/n noticed her brother’s increased protectiveness but chose not to confront him, understanding his concerns. Meanwhile, she and Azriel had decided to keep the fact that they were mates a secret, at least for now. They didn’t want to stir up any trouble or cause Cassian unnecessary worry.

One evening, as Y/n was reading in the library, Cassian approached her. "Hey, can we talk?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Y/n looked up, setting her book aside. "Of course, Cass. What’s on your mind?"

Cassian sat down beside her, his expression serious. "I just want to make sure you’re alright. With Azriel, I mean."

Y/n smiled gently. "I’m alright, Cassian. Azriel has been nothing but kind and respectful. He makes me feel safe."

Cassian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I just... I worry about you."

"I know you do," Y/n said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "And I appreciate it. But I need you to trust me. Trust that I can make my own decisions."

Cassian nodded slowly. "I do trust you, Y/n. And I’m trying to trust Azriel. It’s just... hard."

"It’s hard for me too," Y/n admitted. "But I think Azriel is worth it."

Cassian studied her face for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Just promise me you’ll be careful."

"I promise," Y/n said, giving him a reassuring smile.

****

Azriel felt the weight of Cassian’s scrutiny, but he remained patient, knowing that earning the warrior’s trust would take time. He continued to spend time with Y/n, their bond growing stronger with each passing day.

One evening, as they sat together in the garden, Azriel turned to Y/n. "How are you feeling about all of this?" he asked softly.

Y/n looked at him, her eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight. "It’s a lot to take in," she admitted. "But I’m glad we’re taking it slow. I feel like I’m getting to know you, really know you."

Azriel smiled, his heart swelling with affection. "I feel the same way. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what."

"Thank you, Azriel," she said, reaching out to take his hand. "I appreciate that more than you know."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the night air filled with the scent of blooming flowers. Azriel’s shadows wrapped around them, creating a cocoon of intimacy and safety.

As they sat together in the garden, surrounded by the night’s embrace, Y/n felt a sense of peace and belonging she had never known before. She knew the journey ahead would be filled with challenges, but with Azriel by her side, she felt ready to face whatever came their way.

Despite the growing bond between Y/n and Azriel, Cassian remained wary. He watched them closely, his protective instincts on high alert.

One evening, after training, he cornered Azriel. "Az, we need to talk."

Azriel sighed inwardly but nodded. "Alright, Cassian. What is it?"

Cassian’s eyes were hard, his jaw set. "I know you care about Y/n. But I need to be sure that you understand what this means. She’s my sister. If you hurt her..."

"I won’t," Azriel interrupted, his voice firm. "I swear to you, Cassian, I will protect her with my life. I would never hurt her."

Cassian searched his eyes for any sign of deceit, finding none. Slowly, he nodded. "Alright. But just know, I’m trusting you with the most important person in my life."

Azriel nodded, a solemn promise in his eyes. "I won’t let you down."

As the weeks turned into months, the bond between Y/n and Azriel deepened. They spent countless hours together, talking, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s presence. Y/n found herself falling for Azriel, her heart swelling with love for the quiet, shadowed warrior.

One evening, as they sat together on a secluded balcony, Azriel turned to her, his eyes filled with emotion. "Y/n, there’s something I need to tell you."

She looked at him, her heart skipping a beat. "What is it, Azriel?"

He took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. "I love you, Y/n. More than anything. You are my mate, my heart, my everything."

Tears filled her eyes as she reached out to cup his cheek. "I love you too, Azriel. With all my heart."

They shared a tender kiss, the world around them fading away. In that moment, Y/n knew that she had found her true home in Azriel’s arms.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this continuation of Y/n and Azriel's story. Feel free to leave comments and let me know your thoughts!

[bat-mom-writer]

Sparring Hearts

Summary: a fun evening with your sons and husband.

Reader(wife) X Bruce Wayne

Reader(mom) X Bat boys(Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne)

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

"Come on, old man," Dick teased, as they spared in the well-equipped underground gym of the Wayne Manor, "Is that all you've got?" His youthful exuberance bled through his words, a stark contrast to the calculated precision of his movements.

"Dick," Bruce's voice was firm, yet a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "respect your elders."

The gym's lights flickered briefly, casting long shadows across the mat. It was a stark reminder of the tireless vigil they kept over Gotham, even in the safety of their own home. Tim watched from the sidelines, his eyes darting between the two combatants, noting every move, every feint, filing the information away for later use.

Damian, the youngest, standing beside Tim, arms folded. Despite his young age, he was the most serious of the bunch, his eyes burning with intensity as he studied his father and brother. "I can do better," he murmured under his breath.

The sound of bar feet echoing down the stone corridor interrupted their training. All heads turned as Bruce's wife entered. She was a picture of grace in her casual attire, her smile widening when she saw them all. "Gentlemen, it's time for dinner."

The trio of young men ceased their playful banter and took a collective breath, the air thick with sweat and determination. "We'll be there in a minute," Bruce assured her, wiping the perspiration from his brow. He knew the value of a well-timed break, and the sight of his wife brought a sense of peace to the otherwise intense environment.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she stepped closer to Damian, sliding her arms around his shoulders from behind. Damian, caught off guard, stiffened for a moment before relaxing into her embrace. It was rare for him to allow such affection, especially in front of his brothers. But tonight was different; something in the air suggested that this was a moment to be cherished.

Meanwhile, Dick and Bruce continued their spar, their movements more fluid and graceful as the tension ebbed. The banter between them grew more playful, their laughs bouncing off the gym walls. Their camaraderie was palpable, a testament to the bond that had formed over the years. The rhythmic clang of their weapons filled the room, each strike and parry a silent conversation that spoke of trust and respect.

Tim looked over at Damian, who was still nestled in she embrace, his eyes watching the other two with a hint of longing. He knew that his younger brother had grown up without a mother's warmth, and it filled Tim's heart with joy to see the change in him.

Tim decided to join the moment, running and leaping onto her back, his arms wrapping around her neck from behind. "You can't leave me out!" he exclaimed, laughter bubbling in his voice. She staggered playfully under the sudden weight, but her smile never wavered as she hugged them both, one hand on Tim’s shoulder and the other on Damian's.

"You're right," she said, her voice thick with sarcasm that didn’t quite mask the warmth, "How terrible of me to not invite you to a family hug." She playfully ruffled Tim’s hair, and even Damian's stern expression cracked a little as he rolled his eyes at their antics.

In the final moments of their spar, Bruce had managed to outmaneuver Dick. He caught the younger man's staff, twisted it out of his grip, and had him pinned to the floor. Dick grinned up at him, not a trace of defeat in his eyes, only the bright spark of competition. "Not bad for an old man," he quipped, earning a chuckle from Tim and a raised eyebrow from Damian.

Bruce offered a hand to help Dick up. "Age is but a number," he said, clapping him on the back, "It's wisdom and experience that truly count." He looked at each of his sons, pride shining through the stoic mask he often wore.

She approached Dick with Tim still clinging to her back, his legs wrapped around her waist. "Oh my poor baby," she cooed, inspect an imaginary bruise on Dick's cheek. Tim giggled, feeling like a child again, free from the burdens of his nightly patrols. Dick, ever the showman, played along, dramatically wincing and nuzzling into her touch.

"Did daddy hurt you?" she asked, her voice full of feigned concern. Dick took the opportunity to make an exaggerated sound of pain, "Ow, ow, ow," his voice rising in pitch with each syllable, making Tim laugh even harder. Damian rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips. It was a rare sight to see his usually stoic father interacting so playfully with his siblings.

Bruce stepped back, his own smile growing. "Wise guy," he said, shaking his head at Dick, "You know you had that coming." The room was filled with the sound of good-natured ribbing, a stark contrast to the solemnity of their typical training sessions.

"Bruce, how could you?" her voice was light, teasing. "Hurting your own son like that," she playfully scolded, her eyes dancing with mirth.

Dick took full advantage of the moment, allowing his head to loll back into she embrace as he made a dramatic show of wiping a tear from his eye. The sound of his fake sobs was anything but convincing, coming out more as a series of stifled giggles. Tim's laughter grew louder, his grip on her tightening as he bobbed up and down with each burst of mirth.

"And right in front of your other sons," she said, her voice lightly chiding, though her eyes sparkled with affection as she reached up to pat Tim's head, smoothing his messy hair.

Bruce chuckled, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. It was a sound they didn't often hear, but when it did surface, it was like a warm embrace, wrapping around the room and the hearts of the people in it. "It's all part of the job," he said, his smile genuine as he stepped closer to the group, his arms open.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed playfully, her eyes widening as she saw Bruce approaching. She playfully swung Tim around, setting him on his feet. "Bruce is going in for another attack! Run, my precious little birdies!"

Her words snapped them out of their moment of light-hearted banter. Dick and Tim took off, their laughter echoing through the gym as they sprinted towards the exit, their footsteps pounding against the cold concrete floor. Damian, ever the stoic, took a more dignified approach, sauntering away with a smug look on his face, as if the mere suggestion of running was beneath him.

Bruce watched them go, his eyes lingering on Damian before turning back to his wife. "Thank you, darlin," he said, the warmth in his voice genuine. "They need moments like this."

She stepped closer to him, her hands coming to rest gently on his arms. "And so do you, love," she replied, her gaze searching his. "You carry so much of this world's burden on your shoulders. "

Her words resonated deeply within him. As Bruce, he often found himself lost in the shadow of the Bat, the weight of his crusade against injustice ever present. But as a father and a husband, he knew that moments of levity were essential for their sanity. He leaned down to kiss her, feeling the warmth of her lips against his. It was a simple gesture, but it recharged him, reminding him that there was more to life than the never-ending fight.

"You're right," he murmured against her cheek, "I'll join you in the dining room."

As the boys disappeared up the stairs, their laughter echoing in the corridor, she stepped back, her hands on Bruce's shoulders. "Yeah, and then you need a shower," she said, her voice teasing.

Bruce sighed, a hint of exhaustion seeping into his smile. "Always bossy," he murmured, bending down to kiss her again, this time lingering a moment longer, savoring the feeling of her in his arms.

"Someone's got to keep you in check," she replied, her hands moving from his shoulders to cup his cheeks, her thumbs gently brushing the stubble that had formed during their training. The moment was tender, a brief respite from the chaos they all faced each night.

[lisannastraussisanangel]

oh oh oh i’ve got one :D

guild members’ relationships with makarov headcanons!

Omg this is gonna get me so emotional! This post is gonna be so long holy shit

Makarov knows that these kids are super traumatized when they come to him. That's why he dresses like a funny little jester man. He doesn't want to scare them when they first join

He always takes the time to get to know and work with each kid that joins the guild. Makarov will take that child under his wing for the first week just to make sure they are comfortable

A lot of the members genuinely refer to him as their grandpa/dad (depending on which generation).

Makarov was still figuring out how to deal with children when Cana first joined. He feels he didn't do a good job at helping her when she first came

Cana, of course, disagrees and thinks the old man did a great job at helping her out when she joined

Cana has a ton of respect for him so when he asks her to cut down on drinking. She does so without question. (cutting down meaning drinking one barrel of liquor instead of two)

The two of them do regularly drink together tho

Gray goes to Makarov for advice the most out of the guild members. He really struggles with making the right decisions and Makarov is always there to listen with only minor judgement

Gray feels super indebted to Makarov. Even tho Makarov tells him all he wants for any of his kids is to live long and happy lives

Erza gave Makarov the most trouble when joining the guild. He had no idea how to get through to her. She was always polite and listened to him, but he couldn't get her to open up for the life of him

He just desperately wanted to make the little girl smile. The first time Erza smiled at him, he bawled his eyes out

Erza always makes sure to shoot him a smile when she enters the guildhall now

Natsu decides that since Makarov found him, he now owes Makarov his life. Makarov nearly has to beat it into Natsu that he does not owe him anything and that he is not to lay his life down for Makarov

Natsu then decides to live by the rule: 'you saved my life so now I'm your problem'

Natsu has so much respect for Makarov it's not even funny. But Natsu's love comes with a price. And that price is constant headaches

Mirajane actually didn't like Makarov all that much at first. She appreciated him bringing her family to the guild but she thought he was too lax with how he ran the place

The two of them really bonded after Lisanna's death

Lisanna adores Makarov. She's one of the few people who can catch him off guard and tackle him in hugs (it happens a lot. you'd think he'd catch on by now)

Elfman views Makarov as the perfect man. He wants to be like him. Makarov insists Elfman should find better role models

Mystogan views Makarov as his father. He cannot imagine anyone else who deserves the title

Mystogan's biggest regret was not being able to tell Makarov how much he appreciated everything he did for him

Bisca and Alzack were so upset that Makarov wasn't there for their wedding that they ended up getting remarried just to have him be a part of it

Every time Makarov compliments Gajeel, Gajeel has to fight back tears. He worked so hard to earn Makarov's trust and respect so now every time the guy is nice to him its almost enough to send Gajeel into a sobbing mess

[klausysworld]

hello can you do a second part of "Please go away" of klaus's soul mate, where y/n is regaining his confidence and starts to go out and lead his normal life but he continues to receive gifts from klaus, maybe he will meet an old friend at the grill, and Klaus sees them and gets jealous, and when he leaves with his friend he tries to attack her and Klaus saves her and she forgives Klaus, but they are not together, she just accepts that they are soul mates and that they will go slow so that klaus earns your trust.

Please leave pt 2

PT1

Y/n had been terrified of leaving her house for weeks.

The unbearable fear that Klaus would be round every corner.

It took her ages to feel comfortable in her own garden.

Forever to be able to go out to the actual shop instead of online.

She was checking over her shoulder constantly and sometimes she would even catch a peek of him.

It took a while but eventually she seemed to realise he wasn’t trying to hurt her, he wasn’t getting too close to her. So she began to call out to him, not always when she wanted to.

Like when it was dark and she was walking home alone but she knew he was there

“Klaus?” She called softly “can you just walk with me? Please?” She asked nervously.

But when he came to her and brought her home, she couldn’t help the small amount of security she felt from it.

He walked beside her but didn’t touch her, he respected her need for her space and remained a reasonable distance away from her, only getting closer when he heard people talking and worried they would get near her.

It was soon after that she began to receive gifts from him. Simple things to begin with: bouquets, chocolates, little notes.

He didn’t want to overwhelm her. He just wanted to show her that he was more than a monster who she was afraid of.

That he truly wanted to be with her and love her like a soulmate should.

He found that his smaller gifts were more appreciated than his extravagant ones. Giving her a bouquet of glazed strawberries earned him a hug and a kiss on the cheek compared with the heart shaped diamond pendant he gave her which she panicked over and forced him to take back.

He made sure to protect her, whether it was walking her home or throwing someone to the ground when she cried out for him to help her. And although furious that someone dare lay a hand on her, he refused to frighten her again, he just wanted to keep her safe.

She was still a little anxious whenever he engaged in physical contact. The sliver of fear in her eyes that he would grab her again always visible in the back of her mind but at the same time, she knew he wouldn’t.

He knew she had accepted their bond, he could feel it. But he knew she wasn’t ready for the extent he was. She hadn’t been waiting a thousand years like he had.

He tried to slowly ease her into the relationship, his hand just gently holding hers as he walks her home so she felt safer. Until eventually his arm could be around her waist.

His leg just touching hers when they sat beside each other. Until eventually she would have her head against his chest and arms around him.

Pressing a feather like kiss to her hair when leaving her or greeting her. Until eventually she would have her lips to his.

The relationship was a slow build up but entirely worth every second when he got to look down at her, curled up in his arms and he kissed her head lovingly.

[jadeittic]

DRUNK ON LOVE.

“Your lips are like wine, and I want to get drunk.”

Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto + Bartender!Fem!Reader

this work is based on a request from anon “🍸” ! if you want more works please feel free to drop them in my inbox! :)

small work, i’m working on a fic that i’m not sure i’ll release):

Once upon a time in the vibrant city of Chicago, there was a newly established restaurant named "The Bear." At the heart of this culinary haven, the intoxicating aroma of delectable dishes and tantalizing drinks filled the air, drawing in hungry souls seeking a memorable dining experience.

The star of the show was a mesmerizing snake-like bartender named YN. Her iridescent scales shimmered under the soft glow of the bar lights, and her gleaming eyes held a spark of mischief that enchanted everyone who crossed her path. YN had a magnetic personality, and her quick wit and playful charm kept the customers returning, eager to experience the allure of her signature cocktails.

As the restaurant began to gain popularity, the owner, Carmen Berzatto, who is also a talented chef, a shy and unassuming culinary leader. With tousled brown hair, ocean-strong blue eyes, and tattoos adoring his arms. Carmy’s timid demeanor masked his remarkable talent in the kitchen. He was initially hesitant about handling The Bear (formerly known as The Beef.) after his brother, Mikey, left it to him, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to showcase his culinary creations at such a prestigious establishment.

From the moment YN and Carmy met, there was an instant attraction, but they hid it well under the pretense of professional camaraderie. YN was intrigued by Carmy’s reserved nature, while Carmy found himself captivated by her charisma and flair for mixology.

As days turned into weeks, the duo's chemistry began to spill beyond the bar counter and kitchen, and playful banter turned into genuine affection. YN couldn't resist teasing Carmy with subtle flirts during their shifts, much to his blushing delight. In return, he would playfully roll his eyes, pretending to be unaffected by her charm, but secretly cherishing every moment of it.

Yet, amid their blossoming romance, jealousy lurked in the shadows. YN often had to deal with flirtatious customers who tried to win her affections with extravagant tips. While she appreciated the extra earnings, Carmy couldn't help but feel a pang of protectiveness whenever he saw her indulging in their advances, even if it was just a playful act.

One fateful evening, as the restaurant bustled with laughter and clinking glasses, an unpleasant guest entered. A drunkard named Brody, fueled by liquid courage, became aggressive and obnoxious towards YN, unaware of the boundaries he was crossing.

Seeing her discomfort, Carmy’s protective instincts took over. He walked to the bar with purpose, standing tall and resolute in front of YN, ready to defend her if need be. YN admired his unwavering support and felt a deep sense of appreciation for the shy chef who had become her confidant and protector.

As the night progressed, Carmy’s culinary magic cast a spell on the dining crowd, earning him praise and admiration. The jealous thoughts in YN’s mind began to dissipate as she realized that Carmy’s brilliance in the kitchen was an art form worth celebrating, just like her flair for mixology.

As weeks turned into months, the relationship between YN and Carmy grew stronger, built on trust, respect, and an undeniable connection. The others marveled at the synergy between the snake-like bartender and the introverted chef, acknowledging that their dynamic was something special.

With time, YN’s playful flirting became genuine affection, and Carmy’s protectiveness evolved into a deep sense of love. They found solace in each other's presence, embracing their unique personalities, and cherishing the differences that made their bond stronger.

As the sun set on another magical evening at The Bear, YN and Carmy stood side by side, their hands entwined, and their hearts full of joy. They realized that their love story was no less enchanting than the restaurant they called home—a tale of two kindred spirits who found each other amidst culinary delights, laughter, and the magic of the night.

And so, in the enchanting city of Chicago, where dreams and reality intertwined, the love story of YN, the feisty serpent bartender, and Carmy, the timid chef, became a legend—a tale of love flourishing amidst the dance of flavors, a testament to the power of love, laughter, and the courage to embrace one's true self.

like and reblog my posts if you enjoy my work! requests will be much appreciated too :)

[nickeverdeen]

Could you do Korra x Amon’s child (gn) who was originally working as a spy for Amon, but ends up betraying him for Korra?

Korra x Amon’s gn!child who betrays him for Korra hcs

As Amon’s child, you’ve always been in the shadow of his expectations

When he sends you to spy on Korra, the task seems daunting but necessary

You’re instructed to gain her trust and learn her weaknesses

Your first meeting with Korra is nerve-wracking

You pose as a new ally in Republic City, someone who believes in her mission but wants to help from the sidelines

Slowly, you start to earn Korra’s trust as she’s still in her naive era

You offer to run errands, gather information, and act as a reliable support

Each day you spend with Korra, you feel a growing unease

The more you get to know her, the harder it becomes to reconcile your mission with the person you’re supposed to betray

Korra starts confiding in you, sharing her fears and frustrations

You listen attentively, all the while feeling a pang of guilt knowing your true purpose

While Korra begins to trust you, her friends are more skeptical

Tenzin and Mako keep a close eye on you, always wary of newcomers

This constant scrutiny adds to your stress

To prove your loyalty, you help Korra and her friends on several occasions, providing vital information that genuinely aids their cause

Each successful mission makes you question your allegiance even more

You and Korra share several bonding moments—training sessions, late-night conversations, and even a few laughs

Korra starts feeling a strange sense of attachment towards you

She’s confused by her feelings, as she’s never been in this situation before, especially with someone who isn’t part of her core group

Korra becomes increasingly protective of you

Whenever a mission gets dangerous, she’s always looking out for your safety, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the others

Korra’s behavior sends mixed signals

One moment she’s friendly and open, the next she’s distant and guarded

She’s struggling with emotions she doesn’t quite understand

You both open up about your pasts, sharing stories that make you both feel vulnerable yet closer

Of course you can’t say anything that would give away your family

There are moments when you catch Korra looking at you with an intensity that makes your heart race

It’s clear there’s something more between you, but neither of you can articulate it

The tension between you grows

You both sense it but are unsure how to proceed

For Korra, it’s a confusing mix of emotions she’s never had to deal with before

Korra spends sleepless nights trying to sort out her feelings

Her duty as the Avatar clashes with her growing attachment to you, creating a whirlwind of confusion

One night, as you watch Korra practice bending, it hits you—you have feelings for her

The realization is terrifying because you know it can’t happen

Your loyalty to Amon conflicts with your heart

You start avoiding Korra, fearing that your feelings will betray your mission

Every time she tries to talk to you, you find an excuse to leave, which confuses and hurts her

You spend sleepless nights wrestling with your emotions

Betraying your father feels wrong, but so does the idea of betraying Korra

The internal struggle is tearing you apart

During a particularly vulnerable moment, Korra expresses how much she values your friendship

Her words are like a knife to your heart, knowing you can’t reciprocate honestly

The more you realize you’re falling for Korra, the more you panic

You know your mission will eventually come to light, and you fear losing her trust and friendship

Your behavior becomes erratic

Some days you’re overly affectionate, other days you’re cold and distant

Korra notices but doesn’t understand the reason behind your mood swings

You start doubting your own worth

How can someone like you, tied to Amon’s cause with him being your father, ever deserve someone as pure and dedicated as Korra?

Keeping the secret of your true identity becomes unbearable

Every moment with Korra is tinged with the fear of discovery, making it harder to enjoy the time you have together

You start imagining a life where you’re free from Amon’s influence, where you can openly care for Korra

These daydreams make the reality of your situation even more painful

Despite your growing feelings, you’re in denial

You convince yourself that there’s no way Korra could ever feel the same, and even if she did, it would never work out because of your ties to Amon

Korra catches you in a small lie, and though she doesn’t press the issue, it leaves you rattled

You’re constantly on edge, fearing that your true mission will be revealed

Despite your internal conflict, there are moments of tenderness between you and Korra

A touch, a shared laugh, a look that lingers a second too long

These moments only deepen your internal turmoil

You avoid any serious conversations with Korra, fearing that the truth will slip out

It creates a distance between you that neither of you can fully understand

You’re caught between two worlds—the life you’ve always known under Amon and the new life you’re building with Korra

The stress of maintaining this balance is overwhelming

You repress your emotions, convincing yourself that you can’t afford to feel this way

But the more you suppress, the stronger the feelings become, creating a ticking time bomb inside you

Korra decides to confront Amon alone, believing it’s the only way to end the conflict

You find out about her plan and your heart sinks, knowing how dangerous it is

Despite your orders from Amon, you follow Korra

You can’t bear the thought of her facing him alone, even if it means revealing your true identity

As Korra confronts Amon, he ambushes her with his Equalists

The fight is brutal, and you’re forced to watch from the shadows, torn between helping her and maintaining your cover

Amon corners Korra, preparing to remove her bending

He calls out to you, revealing your presence and your true mission and family

Korra’s eyes widen in shock and betrayal as she realizes you’ve been spying on her

Before Korra loses consciousness, she looks at you with a mixture of hurt and disbelief

Amon’s revelation shatters the trust you’ve built, leaving you feeling more lost than ever

The next time Korra sees you, she’s furious

Her anger is palpable, and she’s ready to fight you

The betrayal cuts deep, and she demands answers, her voice shaking with emotion

Before Korra can attack, Lin intervenes, separating the two of you

The tension is thick, and you’re left feeling conflicted and guilty, unable to meet Korra’s gaze

Korra’s rage is a storm, and she vents to her friends about your betrayal

Her feelings are a tangled mess of anger, hurt, and confusion

You’re consumed by guilt, questioning every decision that led to this moment

You wonder if there’s any way to make things right or if you’ve lost Korra forever

Despite the hostility, you try to convey your apologies through small actions—helping the team, offering support from a distance

But Korra’s anger creates a barrier that’s hard to breach

The inner turmoil intensifies

You’re torn between your loyalty to Amon and your growing feelings for Korra once again

The weight of your decisions presses heavily on your shoulders

Korra struggles with her feelings

Her trust in you is shattered, but there’s a part of her that still cares for some reason

The conflict between her head and heart leaves her restless

Every time you see Korra, the guilt gnaws at you

A new threat emerges, and Korra is in grave danger

Amon plans to strike a decisive blow, and you know this is your chance to make things right

As Amon moves to remove Korra’s bending, you act

With all the small courage you can muster, you attack him from behind, buying Korra precious moments to escape

Seeing that Korra can’t run on her own, you scoop her up and flee

Your heart races as you navigate the chaotic streets, determined to get her to safety

Korra, weakened and in pain, clings to you

Her trust may be broken, but in this moment, she has no choice but to rely on you

The weight of her trust, even if temporary, feels both empowering and terrifying

You finally reach a safe place, reuniting with the team

Korra is barely conscious, and you can see the concern in her friends’ eyes as they rush to help her

While the others gather supplies, you stay by Korra’s side, tending to her wounds

The cuts and bruises on her body are a stark reminder of the price she’s paid for your actions

You keep a silent vigil by her bedside, watching over her as she sleeps

The weight of your guilt is heavy, but your determination to protect her is stronger

The nights are long and sleepless as you replay the events in your mind

You wonder if Korra will ever forgive you, or if this act of redemption will be enough to atone for your betrayal

You provide small comforts—cool cloths for her forehead, whispered reassurances, and gentle touches

It’s all you can offer in your current state of regret and fear

The shadow of Amon looms over you

You know that by saving Korra, you’ve declared yourself an enemy of your father

Korra’s friends are skeptical of your intentions

They question your motives, unsure if they can trust you

You try to prove yourself through actions, knowing words are not enough

Despite the uncertainty, you draw strength from your newfound purpose

Protecting Korra becomes your sole focus, a way to atone for your past mistakes

As you care for Korra, your actions are filled with unspoken apologies

Every touch, every gesture is a plea for forgiveness, even if she’s not awake to hear it

Korra wakes up, her body aching and her mind foggy

As her eyes adjust to the dim light, she sees you slumped in a chair beside her, beaten and bruised

Her first reaction is confusion, followed quickly by concern

Despite everything, seeing you injured stirs something protective within her

Korra realizes that you must have fought Amon to save her

The bruises and cuts on your body tell a story on its own

As she watches you sleep, Korra feels a mixture of emotions—anger, betrayal, gratitude, and something deeper she can’t quite name

Korra takes the time to quietly observe you, noting the weariness and pain etched into your features

You wake up to find Korra watching you

Panic sets in as you remember everything that’s happened

You start to ramble, apologizing profusely for your betrayal and for putting her in danger

The guilt overwhelms you, and you can’t stop the flood of words

You confess your feelings of confusion, your struggle between loyalty to Amon and your growing affection for Korra

In your rambling, you accidentally let slip that you have feelings for her

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, and you try to backpedal, embarrassed and terrified of her reaction

You stand to leave, wanting to escape the room and the awkwardness

You can’t bear the thought of facing Korra after such a confession as you barely can do so after what you did

Despite her weakened state, Korra grabs your arm, stopping you from leaving

Her grip is firm, and there’s a fire in her eyes that takes your breath away

Without words, Korra pulls you closer

She doesn’t fully understand her feelings, but she knows she doesn’t want you to leave

In a moment of vulnerability and raw emotion, Korra leans in and kisses you

It’s tentative and unsure, but it’s filled with all the feelings she can’t yet articulate

The kiss is a release for both of you—a culmination of tension, confusion, and unspoken desires

It’s a moment of connection that transcends the chaos around you

As you pull away, you both know that things will never be the same

There are still obstacles to overcome, but in that moment, you both feel a glimmer of hope for the future

The future is uncertain, but for now, you take comfort in the newfound bond between you

Over time, you work to rebuild trust with Korra to her friends

Your actions speak louder than words, and slowly, they begin to see the sincerity in your efforts

You and Korra share more moments of vulnerability, learning to trust each other completely

Your relationship grows stronger, forged in the fires of adversity

The inevitable confrontation with Amon looms, but this time, you face it with Korra by your side

With Amon’s defeat, you carve out a new path for yourself

As you look towards the future, you know that whatever challenges come, you’ll face them together

What started as a mission of betrayal becomes a story of love, trust, and unbreakable bonds

[labeteenmoi]

Kings of the Subura

Part 5

Fandom: Those About To Die

Pairing: Tenax x OC

Warnings: Violence mentions, sexual mentions, rape mentions

Summary: auctions are open

Note : tagging @somebirdortheother , @pckji and @darkrose33 , next part will be the last!

Remember your place.

Those words had kept taunting her mind for the last two days since Tenax had spoken them. She couldn’t help feeling disappointed but yet kept fighting it, preferring furor over heartache. The trust he had raised in Briga had caved in instantly, the hope of regaining control of her life with him had vanished too. She knew better than this, her resentment was more against herself than anyone else.

In her core, she had always felt he was different. He had been kind, patient and supportive, in his own way. He had shown her that she had more strength and cleverness than she thought, and taught her how to use it in the ruthlessness of Rome. 

He had admired her and even worshiped her she would dare say, in the intimacy of his chamber. She may have called it love if she knew what it was. 

Alas, bliss was not on Fate’s plans.

After their first night together, others had followed. Not quite as the first one, not with the forbidden taste of blood and intoxicating sweetness of revenge, but still memorable and intense. Each time Tenax would touch her, the same exquisite shiver would run through her, always feeling like the first time. Briga would revel in that abandonment sentiment as if she could finally breathe. Every time was a discovery of sensations, of pleasure like she hadn’t suspected existed. 

Confiding in him, she had opened up more about her past with her four older brothers and how they had forged her character with their playful mercilessness, earning her the name of Briga since she was a child, as in Brigantès, the God of war. How they had died at sea with her father. How her mother had followed from disease, leaving her to care for herself before she could have her married. How she had made a living on her own and earned the respect of her peers in her village with her hard work, only to see her life crushed by perverted Roman soldiers who, one after another, had abused her trust. 

She had told him that in Ostia where she had arrived, she had been abused too. The Commander of the military camp had protected her from some drunk soldiers only to have her chained in his tent, repeatedly beaten and raped until he got tired of her screams, insults and spits, and sent her to Rome to be sold as a slave.

Tenax had listened and, with his attentive silence, had allowed her tears to run, only drying them with a tender brush of his hand on her cheeks when all the sorrow had drained.

There was an undeniable bond growing between them and, just as much, her status as a slave seemed ever more futile. 

So she thought, until Scorpus came along again.

 

Another day where Tenax had matters to handle in the Subura and Briga had been taken along. At the end of the day, she was resting at a table in the tavern, sipping on a cup of wine while Tenax was dealing with his books in the far back of the premises. 

The place was as calm as a tavern can be on a regular evening, a monotonous ruckus only disrupted by Scorpus at the other side of the room, seated at a table with a woman, sometimes surrounded by admirers, being loud and looking at Briga, obviously trying to catch her attention. 

They had crossed paths since their steamy meeting at the brothel but she somehow managed to avoid being alone with him at any time since then. Scorpus knew something had happened between her and Tenax, for some reason she could sense it by the way he had suspiciously looked at them after their first night together, and after that, by the restrained resentment in his eyes every time he looked at his friend. 

Unwilling to discuss any related or unrelated matter with him in the tavern, she overtly ignored him as long as she could, but, distracted by the liquor, she accidently crossed his glance. Scorpus stood up on the spot and, ignoring the conversations around him, joined Briga and sitted without being invited across the table with a confident smirk. Briga threw him a cold stare over a discreet annoyed sigh. 

“Tenax didn't tell you it's rude to stare at people like this ?” Scorpus questioned after a moment of intense gauging.

Briga remained unmoved as she knew how: “No. He asks me to do it all the time.”

He sneered slightly.

“Even when he fucks you ?” he let out with an ounce of aggressivity.

She smirked in return at the pettiness, slowly taking a sip before retorting teasingly: “Not when we fuck, no. I couldn’t remain so quiet, even if I tried…”

With a disdainful grin, Scorpus let out: “You're pretty mouthy for a slave… I bet that's what he likes about you…”

“And you don't, so all is well.” she said coldly.

“Oh, I like your mouth too, I'd just like it better shut by my cock.” he asserted.

Briga sensed the conversation was taking a turn, Scorpus was drunk, as usual, and getting cocky; the wine aiding too, she felt compelled to somehow provoke him. She straightened up in her chair, leaning her torso gently over the table in a flirtatious manner:

“Would you, now ?”

Scorpus leaned over the table as well, his lips straightening in a wider satisfied smile at her playing along :“Very much” 

“How much ?”

His smile faded instantly under a confused frown: “What ?”

“How much would you pay to see that happen?” Briga articulated.

The charioteer scoffed with disdain: “I'll never pay a slave to fuck !”

Her eyes narrowed with anger for a second; that cursed word, she couldn't bear it and he knew it, but she knew how to push his buttons as well. 

“I'm not yours to dispose of as you please, so it’s not me you’re actually paying. Even a charioteer should know that.” she ironically stated in a calm voice, recoiling in her chair.

He hissed, biting his lips with an irate pout, recoiling in his chair in turn. 

“Tenax is an old friend, you know… All I need to do is ask, and he'll hand you over to me.” he retorted imprudently after a moment of reflection.

“Mmm…” Briga nodded slightly with a light smirk, “He’s such a generous person, isn't he?” she ironically alleged. 

Scorpus tilted his head with an annoyed smile, her satisfied expression getting on his nerves. Of course he knew Tenax was far from selfless and, to his displeasure, she knew it too. He couldn’t believe he was being dominated by a mere slave who seemed way more cunning than he would have thought. Not only did she resist him but she even dared negotiate as if she was in any way at his same level. 

As she suddenly looked intensely to the side, he looked the same way and saw Tenax, speaking to one of his men. Coming back to Briga, she was now staring at him with a defiant air on her face and tilted her head in Tenax’s direction, openly daring him to go see her master. 

The corners of Scorpus’ mouth twitched in a furious expression as he stood up, abruptly recoiling his chair before storming out of the tavern without bothering to call for the whore he had left behind at his table.

Briga took a deep breath and resumed sipping on her cup in peace under Tenax’s interrogative glare that the ruckus had alerted. Seeing his friend visibly frustrated by Briga grew a smile on his face. He didn’t even bother to be curious about their conversation, otherwise he would have probably suspected that Scorpus’s repeated attempts at seducing Briga were more than just a fling. 

Briga’s resistance, which made Tenax so proud, only further fueled Scorpus’s obsession over her. The great Scorpus had been rejected by women before, but he wasn’t that great then. Now, things were different, and if it still happened that a woman would not succumb to his charms, he just disdainfully ignored it with a wave of his hand, he only had to bend down to pick up another willing one just as beautiful. Even patrician women fell for him after all, how could Briga act so shamelessly above her status and refuse herself to him, even humiliating him in the process? That cursed woman with her disrespectful disdain and yet he craved possessing her beyond explanation.

 

It’s with this same wavering state of mind that he caught up on her days later, coming out of the stables alone, probably running some kind of errands for her master. His head covered so as not to attract attention from the people around him, he followed her discreetly until reaching a corner of the gallery outside the Circus Maximus leading to Tenax’s tavern. There he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her diligently against a wall, hidden from the direct sight of passersby.

Briga huffed in surprise under the shock of her back against the wall before hurriedly trying to identify her assailant under the hooded cape that kept firmly holding her arms. 

Her eyes opened wide, they softened slightly when recognizing Scorpus. He kept her still with the weight of his body against her, so awfully close. His look appeared blurred, as if unable to focus on one point as it happens when one’s mind is fogged by liquor, consistent with the smell of wine emanating from him.

Breathing heavily, his facial features seemed to hesitate between anger and resignation as Briga silently waited to know his purpose with a cold stare .

“How much?” he finally heaved, looking away from her face as an admission of helplessness.

At first caught off guard, Briga lingered on her silent stare until he finally looked her in the eye with a sore face. She hadn’t planned to have her provocations taken seriously by him, even less to have him surrender to her demands.

“Ten thousand sesterces…” she declared without emotion in her tone, “to please me with your mouth only.”

The charioteer suddenly burst into a loud nervous laugh. Her desire to embarrass him was definitely bottomless.

“Are you fucking out of your mind, slave?! I… err…” he broke off with a heavy sigh, biting his lip and shaking his head angrily. 

As if an idea had struck him at once, Scorpus froze and ogled her with a mischievous smile.

“What if I just fuck you right here, right now?” he taunted, pushing her harder against the wall.

Briga grimaced at the pressing body on her, turning her face away from his warm erratic breaths.

”So the great Scorpus needs to force himself on women, like the pig he really is.” she nagged dryly, trying to control her nerves.

”You’re just a slave, I can do whatever I want to you…” Scorpus heaved near her ear, rolling his crotch against her in a lewd manner.

With gritted teeth, Briga gave a try at pulling her arms from his grip but he clinged even harder. With anyone else, she would have insisted, pushed harder, screamed or even bite, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to see Scorpus as a dangerous man despite his behavior. Arrogant and stupid, but not dangerous. A softness in his smiley eyes perhaps, or the inner struggles he tried to drown under gallons of wine somewhat tickled a kind of tenderness in her, she couldn't and wouldn’t say in any way.

She took a chance at following her instinct and let go of her resistance: ”Go ahead then charioteer, do what you have to do.” she hissed coldly at him.

With a grin, Corpus lowered his head and nibbled greedily at the thin skin on her neck, letting go of her arms to grab her breasts and squeeze them over the fabric of her dress. She didn't fight it, struggling to keep her breaths under control with her knuckles tightly shut while he leaned harder against her. For a second he seemed to waver, suddenly remaining still. 

“Damn you…” he panted heavily, resuming his groping and sucking on her neck in between raucous breaths. But as his exhales became louder and shorter, the pressure of his body felt lighter and his hands hesitant. 

“FUCK !” he suddenly bellowed, raising his head with a fuming look. With his jaw clenched he recoiled abruptly, avoiding meeting her stare before quickly walking away, frantically rubbing his eyes and growling.

With the wall for only support, Briga took some time to catch her breath. She wasn't so sure anymore she would get rid of his advances so easily, his perseverance was becoming somewhat worrying. She had thought the presumptuous amount she had requested would exasperate him for good, but even that didn't seem to repel him completely. The only thought that reassured her at that moment was the certainty that Tenax would never bargain her as a piece of meat. 

 

***

Claudia had been sent away with an eagerness she and Briga had rarely seen. Only Briga suspected the reason: Tenax had carefully scrutinized her every move that day as she went about her daily tasks, brushing past her whenever the opportunity presented itself, smiling mischievously at her when he did. Even if it was race day at the Circus, he had decided they would stay home. He wanted her and when the light of day started finally coming off, he decided he couldn’t wait any longer.

After dismissing the servant, he had called for Briga from his bedroom, inviting her to proceed to the scarlet tainted bathroom with an overtly equivocal smile, where he had embraced her hastily against the hot stone walls. Exploring her curves with his hands over her clothes, he had devoured the base of her neck with his kisses under her delighted gasps. Reaching for the bottom of her skirt, he had lifted it up until he could reach her bare legs underneath, caressing along her thighs to her crotch. He had then slid his hand under the loincloth, gently rolling the tender flesh of her labia under his fingers. When he had felt the moisture escape, he had inserted his fingers into the slit and felt Briga's grip tighten on his back.

As usual, the expression of her pleasure always increased his own. Always so restrained at the beginning, her moans intensified with the increasing rhythm of his fingers penetrating her. Watching her lose control had become Tenax’s favorite view, and at it he was, admiring her eyelids quiver frantically over her incredible eyes and her lips being bitten in a vain attempt to hold back her whimpers, when someone knocked on the door.

They held their voices and moves, unsure first of what they had heard, but the knocking resumed, soon followed by a childish voice calling for Tenax.

They both sulked while puting their clothes back in place and Tenax came to the door.

“What?” harshly let out Tenax while opening it to a young boy. Briga recognized one of the orphans her master took care of.

The poor kid looked mortified for an instant until Tenax put on a vague sorrowful expression as an apology for his rudeness.

“Tenax,” the boy started, “Lady Antonia is asking for you.”

“Antonia Servilia?” asked a worried Tenax with a sudden bad feeling crawling under his skin.

“Yes, huh, she came by the tavern after the race. She wants to see you at her house right now…”

This did not bode well.

“Something happened?” Tenax kept on questioning with a rising nervousness.

“Well, err… Scorpus lost the race…” the boy added, timidly eyeing at Briga who had joined them.

Tenax looked uneasy, lost in his thoughts for a second. It was never a good omen to be summoned by powerful owners of a faction, even the more when there was money loss involved.

“Alright, I’ll go now.” he said, “You can go.”

“Huh…” the boy hesitated, stomping on his feet with anxious looks at the slave who seemed to share Tenax’s concern from her frowned look, “She wants to see her too…” he whispered.

The puzzlement in Tenax’s expression deepened as he looked at Briga, adding more to her trouble.

 

***

The Aquiline mount was a beautiful place like Briga had never seen in Rome. So different from the Subura and even more striking at this dusk. The streets were clean and bright and still full of life as if no danger lurked in the dark corners.

That was where the influential and rich people of Rome lived, and the house of Antonia Servilia and her husband, Marsus Servilius, was the definition of opulence.

They were made waiting in a richly decorated and lighted living room, almost as vast as the entire apartment of Tenax. She could see her master was trying to keep his composure, restraining from pacing back and forth during their wait. He thought he knew what this meeting would be about until Briga had been mentioned; the question of how she could have anything to do with Scorpus' defeat wouldn’t stop harassing his mind.

A gracious curly red-haired woman finally arrived, tall and distinguished, her white veiled dress floating around her in soft rustles as she walked towards Tenax with her chin held high and an arrogant smirk on her face.

“I hope you were not too busy, Tenax?” Antonia inquired upon her entry with evident sarcasm.

Showing a polite smile, Tenax bowed slightly his head at her : “Of course not, Antonia. You summoned me?”

“So, here she is…” resumed the mistress of the house going towards Briga, overtly ignoring Tenax, “the cause of our predicament.”

She smiled but there was no mistaking it for kindness by the scornful tone she had used.

“Predicament ?...” hastily questioned Tenax feigning ignorance, wary of how Briga was reacting to Antonia’s approach. To his relief, the patrician woman finally turned to him.

“Oh… you weren’t at the race today, that’s right, you haven’t seen it.” she retorted with irony, “Scorpus made a fool of himself today!”

Tenax pouted smugly: “Well… he has lost in the past already, I”m sure he will get over it…”

“He did not just lose, he didn’t finish it at all!” cut off Antonia with a rising anger in her voice.

At Tenax’s decomposing expression, she kept on: “He was completely drunk, he couldn’t even keep a straight line on the tracks before collapsing in his chariot!”

He suspired deeply at the information while rolling his eyes, clearly thinking “Damn, Scorpus…”

“He mentioned your slave's name among his incoherent and drunken ramblings, asking why she keeps on resisting him!” she kept on, turning back to Briga and tilting her head to the side with a cold smile. “Now, why does YOUR slave, Tenax, get in the way of OUR victory?”

As Tenax was reflecting on how to come out of the situation, Antonia slowly advanced further towards Briga who had kept still, holding her hands in front of her, looking at the woman with the most emotionless face she could put on. But as she came closer, planting herself in front of the slave, Briga felt a tension build up in her shoulders.

“Hmm… I really don’t see what’s to be so obsessed about…” let out softly the Roman woman, reaching for Briga’s chin and inspecting her face with an unveiled disdain.

“Don’t touch me.” coldly spit out the slave, harshly moving her head away from Antonia’s grip with an angry look.

Antonia opened her eyes wide with outraged disbelief and swiftly slapped Briga across the face in a sonorous blow. Tenax let out an uncontrolled gasp before watching Briga’s face turn into an expression of primal fury and her body tensing, about to snatch at the woman who recoiled with a fearful look. 

In a swift movement, Tenax interposed himself between them and addressed Briga with a strained face and an icy tone: “Go wait for me outside…”

The furious gaze of her master revolted her as first effect, but she complied nonetheless, unwilling to put him in an even more difficult situation, but the Gods be witness, she was dying to rip this woman to shreds.

“I beg your pardon, Antonia.” Tenax bowed slightly at the woman, trying to regain her aplomb while watching Briga leave the room with an undisguised relief.

“You better tame that beast, Tenax, or I will!” she scolded, frantically straightening and fixing her dress which didn't need it.

“I’m sure a little frustration won’t kill Scorpus, he’s a grown man.” lightly declared Tenax, eager to steer the conversation away from his slave’s behavior.

“I couldn’t care less about Scorpus’s ego!” she hissed back with a furious look, “I care about what his little craving for that girl will cost us! You are going to fix this, Tenax.”

He looked at her with a hardly dissimulated wariness in his blue eyes, holding his breath in anticipation of what the Roman woman would demand of him.

“Put your slave in Scorpus’s bed before the next race. If he’s still useless by then, I’ll make sure he won’t be a burden to our faction anymore, nor to any other faction for that matter...” Antonia demanded in a threatening voice, turning back and imperiously leaving the room without waiting for an answer.

 

Now they were both furious, and none of them uttered a word while walking back to the Subura, carefully avoiding each other’s gaze. Tenax led Briga to the tavern where only a few drunk men lingered, the rest having deserted the place to go and sleep off the rest of the night. Ignoring his handymen guarding the place, he promptly went directly to the back side of the betting counter, the most isolated part of his establishment, and stopped, his hands on his sides with his head low, waiting to feel Briga’s presence behind him.

“You can’t act like that with these people.” he started, breathing deeply to maintain a calm trône. At her silence, feeling her angry stare tickling his back, he turned around and faced her with eyes darting with anger. “You hear me? Patricians aren’t to be fooled around, even less when they’re faction owners AND senators like Antonia’s husband! These are powerful, dangerous people that will ALWAYS have their way!” he ended up almost yelling.

Tenax could literally see the anger inflating inside of Briga’s eyes, and he should have stopped, he knew only too well how unable to think she was at the moment and yet, all kinds of fears were clashing inside him at that moment, he was unable to control himself.

“You can’t overpower them so stupidly when you’re nothing. Remember your place!” he let out ragingly and out of breath.

The change in Briga’s eyes from anger to deceit was instantaneous, her jaw dropped as if she had been hit in the stomach. That is how she had received his words at the moment, physically reflecting the decomposition her mind was going through.

Tenax fleetingly grimaced in remorse at this expression he had never seen on her face before, but it was too late, he couldn’t unsay what had hurt her. 

Briga felt betrayed, again, and that was not an unfamiliar feeling for her, except she had carefully watched their relationship evolve with suspicion and awareness this time. And she had let go of her doubts, she had acquired the certainty that he was the man who would never think of her as a lesser person for they were so similar in their resilience. But she had been wrong. Whatever she did, or said, or think, she was a slave, and that seemed to be now the root of who she really was for Tenax and all the likes of him. Everything else was mere decoration. 

With a resigned pout, he called for Dacia:

“Take her home, I have to find Scorpus.” he ordered dryly, imperiously looking down on Briga who had put back on her cold mask with the neutral look she used to have before they had become close. 

Before Dacia could agree, Briga retorted sharply: “Yes, master.”

Tenax froze, almost in shock at her words. Never had she resigned herself at acknowledging him as her master, nor had he ever really expected it from her despite what he had demanded of her the day they had met. She had said it in such a direct manner, as if these were common words in her mouth. He knew it was in reaction to his own demeaning words that did not match his thoughts at all, and he really hoped she didn’t mean it either.

This was not the time, however, to dwell on the subject, and he made no protest at her cold, silent departure.

 

***

Silence was all he found when coming home after his mildly successful search: Scorpus was found dead drunk in the training room of the charioteers, snoring so loud he could be heard from outside, and completely unresponsive to Tenax attempts at waking him up.

Dacia’s guarding presence near Tenax’s apartment ensured him that Briga had not gone anywhere, and yet, upon entering it, the sounding emptiness of the place struck him deeply. Although everything was in its place, the air felt dry and the darkness heavier than usual.

His first instinct was to go see Briga that he foolishly thought would be waiting for him in his chamber; after all, that’s where she had spent all her latest nights, but she wasn’t there. So he went towards her room, suddenly seized by a hint of panic at the thought of finding it empty too. Opening the door in precipitation, he let out a relieved sigh when seeing her there, laying on her bed.

There was no way to say if she was sleeping or faking it from the door, all he could see under the faint night gleam was her back gently rising and falling at every breath she took.

But there he stood for a moment, pondering if he should approach or just let all the hurtful words fade into the night. He chose the latter, unsure on how to address Antonia’s demand with Briga or even with himself for the moment being, which would just add more bitterness upon an already draining evening.

That was a decision Tenax would regret for the next couple of days.

Briga had come out the next day acting more distant than ever. Like in her first wild days beside him, she would just disappear from his sight every time she wasn’t needed, and when addressed to, she would comply without showing any emotion and a mechanical “yes, master” was all she would ever say.

But time was running, the next race was two days ahead and she still didn’t seem any more forgiving. Perhaps it was better that way, if he really thought about it in an incongruous burst of divine optimism. The prospect of pushing her into the arms of another man made him nauseous, even more so knowing what she had endured in the past, but the man in question was Scorpus and somehow it reassured him, he was his friend and despite all his bad habits and manners, he was not a wicked man. But he also thought that Scorpus was no match for Briga, and should she refuse to submit to him, he was the one in danger in every turn of évents. He and Tenax’s ambition for the future for that matter, and having Briga defiantly acting like the obedient slave she wasn’t, was probably the best time to see things happen as they should.

He almost laughed at himself for such silly thoughts. His life would probably be a lot easier if he didn't have feelings for that woman. How could he ever demand this of her, how could he come up with an alternate plan in such little time?

The Gods, should he ever pray to them, had decided to ease things for him somehow. In a trickster way however, as they should.

The day before the race, a messenger knocked on Tenax’s door, bringing a summon from Scorpus addressed to him and Briga for that evening. Tenax did not have the opportunity to meet with him in the meantime and was planning on finding him to try and talk some sense into him. 

Although still not believing he would succeed there either; he knew too well the stubbornness and pride of the charioteer, but he did not know what else to do. And out of the blue came this message, as if the odds had finally turned in his favor. 

The timing seemed too good to be true and that strongly tickled Tenax’s suspicion that something was unraveling.