#at least dor now

[birdiepaws]

autism compelled me to make another undertale au. bondtale is getting a sibling

[ouroboobos]

cannot even downplay it anymore i think if im still living with my mother 6 months from now i may politely excuse myself from this mortal coil

[dyna-myght]

Nothing went how I wanted it to and the frosting was kicking my ass but we got… somewhere lmao.

[owlhousefangirl203]

Burn out gang rise up

[tenrose]

I know I've been raging about my work for years now. But I think it's the first time I might cry directly because of it today. I mean I have cried several times cause I'm exhausted and shit. But right now I'm talking about a direct cause. It's always do more, do better but it's never enough. Everything is working against us, we have goals that are purposefully unreachable so they can take away our bonus. And it's always, more work, more hours, you should have the quantity and the quality, which at some point you can't have both. Like how the hell are you supposed to have everything perfect but you have to be fast. I'm not even pissed, I'm just tired. Basically I work for nothing.

[livelaughlovesubs]

F-yo-dor~

Dom!reader x sub!fyodor (reader is gender neutral)

Warning: pegging (can be read as a dick), CNC, dacryphilia, feminisation

I wrote this before, but I changed some stuff

Fyodor positioned himself in your lap, straddling you before sitting down completely. He could feel a throbbing sensation as he let himself be filled. Then he shifted around for a bit, gaze not leaving yours for a moment. It was adorable how he thought he’s in control, just because he was on top. Once the man settled down comfortably, he started going up and down at you. Riding and bouncing on your dick with a hint of desperation. His hands gripped your shoulders, and he quickened his pace, revelling in the power he held in this situation. For example being able to choose the intensity of the act as he pleased, he smirked at you the entire time. Even though he tried to be more domineering in this case, he couldn’t keep his voice down. Moans slipped from his lips, mixed with an occasional whimper.

You just sat down and let him do, watching him getting off on top was you was amusing to say the least. How he looked at you was playful and smug, but you didn’t care, you were going to let him have his moment. The play unfolding in front of you was pathetic but also arousing. The sound of skin against skin reached your ears, along with his gasps and whimpers. Slowly his movements heightened in intensity, you could tell he was close already. “Ahh~uuUhhmm!" an especially loud moan slipped from the male as he came on top of you. His panting was heavy, torso rising and lowering with every breath.

After he came down from his high, he smirked at you. Looking at you through half lidded eyes, which were a bit hidden by his bangs. His cheeks had turned reddish, and he stopped holding onto you. “You aren’t satisfied, right? But I won’t keep going unless you beg.” Fyodor said, while his hole clenched around you, and thighs trembled with excitement. Then your hands suddenly gripped his hips. The grip was very rough, next day there would be marks. He yelped, shrieked and wrapped his arms around your neck again. Without wasting time you forced him to move back and forth, grinding the toy against his walls.

That look on his face! It was so lewd and perverted! How his eyes widened, mouth hung agape and shock washed over him. Out of nowhere his blush intensified, and was spreading to his shoulders now. “Did you have fun pretending to be in control? Haha~” you teased him, mocking him for his delusion.

A mixture of horror, confusing and pleasure blend within him as you kept forcing him to move. He didn’t know what to think about this situation, so all he did was moan on your dick like a slut in heat. “Ah..aAHHH..! oOH, nghh..” the sounds he made were amazing, you lost yourself in it and subconsciously fastened the pace. The grip on his waist tightened, almost painfully as you forcefully guide his movements. Pressing and trusting into him at an even faster pace then before. How you abruptly shifted the dynamics shocked him, the male was still irritated as to what just happened. His earlier teasing and confident gaze changed to one of vulnerability, your words reminding him that he is still at your mercy.

The pace which you set was so rough, it was too much for him. Pleasures and ecstasy rippled through his body, his eyes rolled back while his whole body shivered. Poor boy was drooling while he pleaded with you, “stop! AHhh s-stop~” tears were decorating his pretty face as well, hands gripping your arms now as you kept your steady movements. "Slow downnn! Nghh, ple-ase..gentler...”

You were still rutting into him, forcing him up and down your dick. His cries and whines were like music in your ears, causing you to increase the intensity once again. Making him surrender to the overwhelming sensations of pain and bliss. Each rhythmic snap of your hips against his got his head spinning around, the feeling maddening but also addictive. Things only got worse for the boy when you started hitting his sweet spot with precision. Now his dick throbbed and leaked uncontrollably, this was evidence of the pleasure he was receiving. “I-it's so..intense, hAah- you are so.. so rough with me! Nghh…please gimme a breaAAK~”

Without listening to his begs, you kept degrading him, “Hah, you are dipping wet down here, Fyodor. What, have you become a girl? Do you like this so much?” You snickered at the display in front of you. The words you whispered to him mingled with his brain, making him feel humiliated even somehow even more embarrassed than he already was. “N-no..'m not a girl.! I'm a guy- ahhh~ please, i-I'm not wet..!" He tried to defend himself even though he knew it's hopeless and that he was playing right into your palm. “It that so? F-yo-dor~?” The way you said his name made him shudder, how did he even turn into this mess? Wasn't he a feared ability user before? Reduced to a mere whore- no, your whore.

“AHHhh..pleA~se! I-I can't- uhmm, gahh..” “Are you close again? Go on, Fyodor, hehe.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, his unfocused eyes were really erotic after all. Luckily got him you gave him the permission he needed, he didn't think twice about it before white ropes of cum shoot from his arousal. Body shaking in your grip, head thrown back as he let out small begs for mercy. His legs trembled, unable to move after the intense play of you two. You were still holding his slim body, his soft skin against your fingers. He could feel his conscious fading, unable to keep his eyes from closing. The last thing he heard was, "mine." Before the exhaustion overtook his body and he slumped against your chest.

[slut4slytherinss]

Labyrinth

Pt. 1 - Gold Rush

SEND REQUESTS!!

Summary: reader finds herself falling in love, hard, for Mattheo not long after she broke her own heart over him. Initially convinced that she will never recover from her pain that he caused, she marvels at how she finds comfort in the boy that hurt her.

1,470 words

Warnings: cursing, basically the same as pt.1 minus the angst, so much cheesiness it’s gross, lovey dovey!mattheo bc I’m extremely soft, sort of angsty but in a beautiful way, these aren’t even warnings atp, the other students being jealous cunts, possible references to books or movies, Regulus is STILL dead (wdym he’s literally in bed beside me rn), Dorothea being kind of rude (dw my girl is still your bestie), Drastoria(to all you Drarry shippers I’m sorry), mention of ronmione, slight rush and basically no plot, SUPER FUCKING SHORT IM SORRY😞

2nd person pov

Hufflepuff prefect reader

Female reader

“It only hurts this much right now.” Was what I was thinking the whole time.

You walk down the hallway aside Mattheo, fingers intertwined. You agreed to try it out and it’s lasted a month, but that doesn’t stop everyone in the castle from starting rumors. He traces circles on the back of your hand with his thumbnail, in a comforting manner, he leans in to whisper in your ear “Let’s go back to my dorm, okay?” You nod. You two go to his dorm a lot, not to hook up, you haven’t had sex since the party, his dorm is like a safe space — and his friends are fucking awesome. You’ve barely even told Dorothea what your relationship has been like, becoming closer and closer with the Slytherins.

-

When you get into his dorm you take your robe off, leaving you in your white button-up, skirt that rests appropriately at your knees, calf high socks and black Doc Martens. Mattheo places your robe gently atop a chair next to his desk before taking his own robe off and kicking his shoes off. “Lay with me, love?” He asks sweetly which causes you to roll your eyes, but oblige. You lie next to him in the bed, just talking. That’s all you two ever do lately, though, it gives you a fair bit of anxiety — trusting him with your secrets. It terrifies you, actually. You need to just—

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out. I’ll be getting over you, my whole life.

Seriously. He’s unforgettable. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to ease your nerves. Mattheo must feel how tense you are because he begins to trace stars on your back, it’s his little form of comfort. I’ve never been good at that, he’d told you once. Which seems like total bullshit because he always manages to calm you, or at least make you forget about your issues for a while. That also scares you, the fact he can make you want to cry, strangle him, and yourself, but also smile, laugh, hug him. Terrifies you. No one has ever impacted you this much. Everything is moving so fast, but Mattheo is there with you, along for the ride.

You know how scared I am of elevators. Never trust it if it rises fast, it can’t last.

-

You walk into your dorm, laying down on your bed and dropping your bag on the floor. You quickly turn over when you hear Dorothea’s voice “Look who’s finally home.” She says in an annoyed tone. “Dor? What are you doing in here?” You sit up, she looks at you with raised brows and crossed arms. “Really? You start dating Mattheo Riddle, leave me alone for weeks, get new friends and you’re asking me why I’m here?” You swallow, “You told me you’d get over him, you lied to me.” “Dorothea, c’mon, this is like—like a trial, to see if we’re good together, he’s really sweet.” You try to justify your actions “He’s Mattheo Riddle!” She whispers aggressively, shaking her head. “He’s my boyfriend!” You spit out, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. Dorothea visibly flinches, “What?” “He’s—he’s my boyfriend,” you repeat, more confidently. “You just said that the relationship was a trial.” “Well it is, but he’s still my boyfriend. Mine. So stop trying to criticize him and me simply because I care for him.” You breathe out that last part “You care for him?” She asks with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, I care for him. It’s not like—I’m in love with him or something, I just care.” You say quickly. You’re not in love with him. You can’t be, right?

Uh oh, I’m falling in love again. Oh no, I’m falling in love again. Oh, I’m falling in love. I thought the plane was going down how’d you turn it right around?

-

The day after your interaction with Dorothea is, odd, to say the least. You sit outside in the courtyard, leaning against a tree, you’ve been avoiding Mattheo like the plague ever since your revelation. This whole things just feels so—raw. But of course he found you.

It only feels this raw right now, lost in the labyrinth of my mind.

“Hey,” he gives you a small smile. “Hi.” You reply, he sits down next to you. “I haven’t seen you all day, you avoiding me?” That causes you to laugh—and also tell the truth with a few nods. “Yeah, yeah I have.” He tilts his head but doesn’t seem upset in the slightest. “Why’s that?” “Well—um,” you try to get the words out but they seem a little stuck. “It’s okay, take your time.” He brings his hand down to hold yours, tracing gentle circles on your palm. You smile and lean your head on his shoulder. “I care about you, Mattheo.” You admit. He grins, really grins. “I care about you too.” The boy says, “Really?” He nods “Always have,” he leans down so his lips are right next to your ear, “always will.” His whisper is like a secret for only you to hear, a promise that will never be broke, a sacred oath.

Break up, break free, break through, break down. You would break your back to make me break a smile.

-

“Boys!” You call out in a sing-song voice, “I’ve brought sweets!” They got in trouble for talking too loudly during class and were removed from this weeks Hogsmeade weekend, you decided to buy them some sweets. Blaise is the first to you, “Thank Merlin, Y/n!” He snatches a bag from you as you giggle. You toss some sweets onto Draco’s bed as all the boys thank you, Mattheo stands up and wraps his arms around you from behind, kissing your cheek. That action causes all the others to groan and tell you to “Get a room.” Pansy and Astoria walk into the room, talking animatedly, Astoria sits on Draco’s bed beside him, tossing bags of clothes at him, “I’ve got you a new suit.” He grins and kisses the side of her neck in thanks. “Y/n! You totally missed it,” Pansy exclaims, practically shoving Mattheo off of you to lock her arm onto yours. “We caught Weasley and Granger snogging in the bathrooms at Three Broomsticks!” You giggle at her words and sit down on Mattheo’s bed with her, “Seriously? You steal my girlfriend and now my bed?” He asks Pansy, in a mock-offended way, she sticks her tongue out at him. “C’est la vie.” Blaise shrugs with a smirk playing at his lips as he eats the chocolate you gave him. “Speaking of that,” Theodore begins “how’s the sex Matt?” He teases, which causes you to blush and Mattheo to shove Theodore. “Shut it man, that’s so gross.” “Oh c’mon!” Astoria exclaims, “Y/n never tells us anything about it.” She shakes her head. “Maybe she doesn’t want to.” Mattheo defends you, you just stay silent. You tune them out, you just hate how everyone already wants you to be sleeping together. Why would you? It’s taken you long enough to call him your boyfriend, let alone touch him (approximately three weeks). Sure, you’ve hooked up before, but never as a couple. That act is supposed to be intimate with a person you care about. So why do it so soon? You’re taken away from your thoughts by the feel of Mattheo’s hand gripping yours.

You know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back. Just like that.

-

It’s now been around two months, officially dating, Dorothea has apologized and became friends with the Slytherin’s, it’s all perfect. Except, you and Mattheo still haven’t kissed nor done anything but cuddle and hold hands. You’re not sure why but the act feels too intimate, too scary for you. You’ve kissed lots of guys before—granted none were your boyfriend—but still. You can’t seriously be falling for him, right?

“Hey love,” Mattheo murmurs, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. “Did Dorothea let you in?” You question with a yawn, he just hums and nods, sitting next to you on your bed. “How’s my girl doing?” He asks, “Stressed and exhausted.” You reply as you trace your quill along the parchment “You’re seriously doing that extra credit essay?” “Yes, Mattheo, I am. I’m totally failing Slughorn’s class and he never lets us do shit like this for extra credit, I’m savoring it.” He chuckles and pulls you closer to him by your waist. “Just take a little break. For me?” You groan but end up giving in, leaning back against his chest. “You’re so lucky I lo—“ you cut yourself off quickly, immediately looking away from him. He stiffens, “You what?” He murmurs, you swallow. “Nothing, nothing important.” You say quickly. Mattheo desperately wants to change the subject so he just nods and looks forward.

Uh oh, I’m falling in love again. Oh no, I’m falling in love again. Oh, I’m falling in love. I thought the plane was going down how’d you turn it right around?

After a few minutes of silence, Mattheo speaks again “What were you going to say?” He asks in a whisper, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hip bone. “It doesn’t matter.” You murmur, but Mattheo is quite persistent and asks again, you finally give in and mutter “I love you.” Which causes his breath to catch, I love you, those words shouldn’t be a big deal—you aren’t asking him to marry you or anything—but they are. He swallows before murmuring “Really?” To which you reply with a timid “Yes.” A slow smile creeps up on his face. “Well, I love you too.” You grin like an idiot, love, a silly thing to be obsessing over—but alas, you are.

Uh oh, I’m falling in love again. Oh no, I’m falling in love again. Oh, I’m falling in love. I thought the plane was going down how’d you turn it right around?

-

A/N: sorry this one was so short, I just wanted to end this on a sweet note.. sooooo yeah. And sorry for the wait lol🙈🙈

[ananiel]

Okay, I know and I'm very sorry that I am bothering you again. I just thought about something crazy.... What if Sherlock and William baby traped Obanai!Reader? And she can't bring herself to kill the babies because it's not babies's fault? It's twins by the way. Girl and Boy.

And if you are writing NSFW can you do it too?

And I am very sorry again for bothering you with my requests😭

I just like how you write about it and how you are imagining it. I have plenty scenarios but I don't know how to write them🥲

Yes, i am not the best at writing nsfw but i can certainly try, and do not worry, You are of no bother at all, i like taking requests, and that is a very good idea!

Yandere sherlock holmes x reader x yandere William james moriarty

Tw : mentions of killing intent, non con, yandere themes, baby trapping, drugging, dark content, read at your own risk!

Nsfw!

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

IT had been days since they saw your scars... Days since they started making side comments, side comments that became more and more disturbing for You

"do You think that the child Will have your beautifull eyes?"

Or

"... Ha, you'd look so good round, full with children, my darling"

You weren't dumb either. You knew what they were hinting at, all the soft touches, sugestive looks and most importantly, on the rarely ocasions that they let You go outside... The way they would stare at pregnant or mother's with their children, especially if the Young ones were still babies. Every time, You would see at least one of them stare long, with a small smile as his hand went to your stomach, holding it tight (and You in place)

Of course, You expected what came next, a talk with them, over tea, which, as a fool, You took, in which they wanted to prepare You, and say that You are at a Point in your relathionship in which the time for kids is right... They were old enough, and so were You for that.

You protested, screaming at them as You told them that You would never want to raise children, or have sex, with either one... And they took that... Smirking?

When your vision got slightly blury You understood why, of course, they planned this, they knew You, they knew You wouldn't accept it in no way posible. But drugging? This was low even for them, You wanted to say, but do You truly know them both so well to say that? Can You even say that, knowing You were talking about your kiddnappers and possible rapists?

.

.

.

"no... No...." You breath out, trying to pull yourself togheter as You saw them inch closer.

Maybe it was your tired mind, but You could swear that You saw their faces twisted in that awfull smirks of theirs.

Sherlock was the one to grab You to your feet and making You grind against his erected cock while he let out a shaky breath of pleasure.

"now sherlock... Be patient Will You? Your turn Will come"

William says wraping his arms around your waist and holding your ass against his pants.

"it is easy for You, Liam, You will be the first to take her"

You shooks your head, your ears ringing as sherlock comented, and his rough hands adictinvly went and unbottined your shirt, giving them acces to your bare skin.

Seeing that, William's lips made contact with your neck and shoulders, whispering sweet nothings about how You will see that this is the best for You, that You were made to be a mother and that You will thank them for impregnating You when You would see the beautifull baby that will come out of you all.

You fall on the sofa, them soon following and taking their positions, with William behind You and Sherlock in front of You, Sherlock captured your lips in a pasionate kiss, his hands going to your hips as his toungue plays around your mouth, his hands guiding Your hips to meet William's, earning a few moans from the blond as he continued to pree open mouthed Kisses to your neck, making You unconsciouly moan against Sherlock's mouth, which grew his need dor You.

They continued to whisper sweet nothings here and there, but that didn't help, didn't help at all, as tears weild up in your eyes and their hands opened up your pants.

You were too weak to fight, and the combination of sherlock's roughness and the way William softly rubs his hands all over your skin... It was getting good, as much as you hated to admit it, as much as you hated the fact that they did make You wet.

William smiles mischevously as he felt the wetness from your panties, bring to of his fingers to tease your entrace before inserting them slowly, making You yelp weakly against Sherlock's mouth.

William started thrusting his fingers, making small pauses that had You embarassingly trying to meet his thrusts.

"see? Told ya she's gonna come around eventually, now hurry up Liam, am getting impatient... "

William playfully rolls his eyes as sherlock Kisses down your chest, ending up sucking on one of your nipples as his hand massages the other one.

William continues to thrust his fingers up, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but before You can come, he removes his fingers, making You grown.

You left soft moans spill out of your lips from sherlock's actions as your eyes widen when You heard the William's pants falling down.

"easy now..." he shushes as he gives himself a pump before guiding You on himself, making You take him inch by inch. Not giving You time to get used to him before he bottoms out

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as You felt him slowly snap his hips back in you, earning a very loud moan from you, followed by more small muffle ones.

"hey... I'm getting jealous, pay attention to me too... " sherlock whispers, his hands playing with your clit as William thrusted his hips fast, making You reach your High that was denied earlier

"oh... This is... Better than i could've ever dreamed" he says in between groans and pants, his motions continuing for what felt like hours, as he continued to thrust, not giving You time to come down from your High

You moaned louder.

"we talked that after cumming we Switched William" sherlock bites into your shoulder, as if to show that he is very serious, not that William could seem to care less

"Said about switch ing after coming, she did, i didn't, wait till i finish and have your turn, it's not like she is going anywhere"

William rests his head against your shoulder, shotting his load inside you.

Panting, he gives one more thrust before pulling away.

"finally!" sherlock exclaims as pushes inside you, causing You to yelp, thinking that ha wasn't prepared, and that You would get a small break.

But no, the overstimulation was making You even more lightheaded than You already were because of the druged Tea. And jesus, You didn't know if You liked sherlock's aproach more, or William's. William was more calculated, having a rythm that he trusted in, while at sherlock it felt like every single thrust was difrent from the other, making your stomach twist and turn. You were close again, and if they fucked You thought this orgasm again, You are more than sure that You will pass out

"forgeting about me?" William asks as he presses down on your stomach, making You moan as he could feel sherlock's dick against his finger. You let out a loud moan as You came, William kissing your neck whole smiling as sherlock seemed to lost in his pleasure tto give a reaction other than a moan from the aditional squeze "you'll see my darling, once this children are born, You will thank us"

Sherlock nods, too lost into his pleasure to respond properly as he chases his high, bitting down on the opposite shoulder that is planting the Kisses.

His movements get more sloppy, and after 2 more thrusts, he cums. You fall against his chest, breathing in deeply as tears start pooling from your eyes again, but You don't know what they are. Maybe fear, maybe overstimulation, hatred .

"your turn now, Liam" Your eyes widen at that

"let her rest a minute, she needs it if we want her to not pass out and remember everything"

.

.

.

And remember everything you did, You felt disgusted at yourself, You looked into the mirror at your stomach almost 8 times a day, trying to see a difrence, trying to see if truly You were pregnant with their children.

You dreded the fact that You were late, that You were sleeping more, that You were more picky, and they couldn't seem to get enough of them.

They had, physician after physician come, but after the first one was killed right in front of You after You tried to tell him the truth, that You were forced into this. You weren't trying to take any risks now, You didn't want a poor man's blood on your hands.

Twins.

Twins, oh how happy they were at the sound of twins, how empty You felt, thinking that instead of one reminders of what happend, You had two. Two little beasts to resemble the bigger ones.

At month 5 You were already big enough to cause some disconfort, which they took grade pleasure in, helping and always holding your stomach... You considered more than once to fall down a fight of stairs, to end this pregnancy and posibly yourself, but something stopped You, the vow You made to be better than your parents.

You hated those kids, and it made You hate yourself more, that You couldn't love them, that You will end up maybe worse than your whole clan. What choice did the children have? It's not like they were at fault for who their fathers are...

You saw them put the cribs, You saw them react and tell everyone, and soon, You will see them hold the babies too. You saw the obbsesion, the need in their eyes more than enough to know that, that was the case now too. The children were a way too keep You close to them, but also, to have another piece of you.

They were obssesed with the kids too.

For You, they were the snake demon You had to cut your face for. They were the monster that your parents failed to protect You form, they were the demons You won't leave your children in the hands of those demons.

When they were born, You held them, You held one beautifull boy with blue hair and your striking eyes, and one girl, the spliting image of William, of it weren't for one colored eye that wasn't Red, her heterocromia made her somehow cuter, in the eyes of you, someone that was crytisized for them your whole life.

You were tired after birth, but You held strong, making sure that the two men have as little contact with the babies as posible that is until You heard one private discusion

"oh Liam, You genius, she doesn't even know that the children Will have our possesive traits!"

What? You looked at the baby in your arms, feeling lightheaded

"Who would expect a child being obssesed sherly, and You saw the babies' eyes, how they follow her... Our little copies. She can't escape now, and with the children, it's not like she wants to, the door has been opened and left unguared for a week, she won't ever escape now "

Door opened... You rushed to their cribs, putting each one of them in their respective cribs, looking at them for one last Time...

Not survivours like You... No... They were tiny baby demons... They were holding You out of fear for them in a Cage, only that it was opened, this time, the Cage is opened...

This time You can run...

You don't look back, You don't take anything... Foolled, You were tricked by the offsprings of demons.

And You won't accept it, won't accept being held hostage no more.

You were a better mother than your parents could ever be, and that made You proud, but after your past was hunted by snake people, You won't let another kind of those people control You any longer

(i am thinking to make a continuation of this, like, iguro obanai darling escapes without the children, and while sherliam are busy trying to find her, Louis and entity! Reader, that he didn't love at first, take care of the kids, but seeing her so motherly, he slowly starts to get obsesive, seeing the children as their own and the entity as his partner. What do You guys think?)

[melestasflight]

Happy happy birthday!! I hope it’s such a lovely one!

Hmm, perhaps some gen of Fingon, Finrod, and Aegnor at Barad Eithel being very cousin-siblings and giving each other a hard time about whatever you will?

What a lovely idea of how to celebrate on here!

Aegnor, Finrod, Fingon, Galdor, seducing the Edain. Rated G, 840 words. Written by @polutrope and @melestasflight and right in time for @arafinwean-week On AO3.

Aegnor looks up from his cup to where Finrod is still interrogating Galdor on some obscure Edain lore regarding fire rituals. From what he has absently gathered, they have existed among the House of Hador since bygone times in the East.

He was eager to meet his eldest brother at Barad Eithel, both of them having come for Fingon’s begetting day feast. They have not seen each other in over a year, and there is so much to catch up on, but for most of the night, Finrod has ignored him utterly. Aegnor is not surprised: he cannot compete for Finrod’s attention in the presence of any mortal person even remotely willing to engage in discussion.

Aegnor pours himself a fourth cup of wild rice wine and has downed half of it when Fingon plops himself on the bench beside him, half sitting on his lap, and throws his arms around his neck.

“My dearest cousin, I am so glad you are here.” He kisses his cheek. “Why are you not dancing?” Fingon is deep into his cups already; his fair face is flushed and he is even louder and more cheerful than usual.

Here at least is one who will take interest in what he has to say, Aegnor thinks, and hooks his arm around Fingon’s waist with a squeeze. “I am happy to see you, too. Sit with me for a while?”

Fingon grins at him and then collects himself a little. “How have you fared? What’s the news in Dorthonion?”

“Nothing much since you last visited, but we completed the watchtowers overlooking the plain,” Aegnor begins. He goes on to talk about his construction projects, the new foals born in his herds, the collection of poetry he’s begun writing.

Fingon nods enthusiastically and asks questions here and there. Before long, however, his gaze strays across the table and he interrupts Aegnor mid-sentence. “Is that Galdor?”

“Yes, the poor lad, my brother has had him trapped for the past two hours.” Aegnor is eager to return to the subject of his poetry, but Fingon is no longer listening. His cousin’s eyes are blown wide and dark, and he rakes them up and down the man’s body.

“Your staring is not subtle at all,” Aegnor teases.

“I have never seen him like this, in his princely attire,” Fingon mutters, seemingly more to himself than in response to Aegnor.

Aegnor follows Fingon’s gaze. Galdor has only recently come to manhood; he is even taller than his father, Hador, but no less blond. Free from the helmet and heavy armor that usually hide most of his face and body, he is resplendent, his hair falling to his shoulders in fine golden waves and a handsome stubble adorning his chin. He is most fine to the eye, Aegnor has to admit.

Galdor is, undoubtedly, Fingon’s type. His cousin has a history of seducing the Men of Dor-lómin: a brief affair with Hador himself before his marriage to Gildis; then, Hador’s cousin Handar; and now, it seems, Hador’s own son.

“You cannot be serious, Findekáno. Again?” Aegnor rolls his eyes and smacks Fingon’s shoulder.

“You are a fine one to talk, Aikanáro,” Fingon hisses. “It's not me who patrols bëorian villages in the moonlight.”

Aegnor glares at him, but Fingon pays him no heed. His cousin stands up, downs the cup of rice wine he has been nursing, straightens his clothes and the circlet upon his head, and resolutely marches to where Galdor and Finrod are conversing, heedless of whatever it is Finrod is now explaining to the man. Fingon grins like a fool as he looks down to where Galdor kneels to kiss his ring finger, then he pulls the man up to his feet and whispers something into his ear that washes Galdor’s cheeks pink.

Fingon turns to wink at Aegnor and then he is gone, leading Galdor by the hand, and disappearing among the crowd of dancing pairs.

Aegnor cannot help but chuckle, easily forgiving his cousin. This is Fingon’s party, after all, and he deserves to have a merry time. He picks up his cup, the bottle of rice wine, and walks over to take the seat recently vacated by Galdor.

“Another failed attempt at learning the lore of the House of Hador, brother?” he jests with Finrod.

“Did you know their people worshipped Arien as their God at first? I was so close to having Galdor reveal the meaning behind their fire rituals,” Finrod blurts out, mildly frustrated. “Damn you, Findekáno,” his brother curses, but he chuckles as he says this; there is no true resentment in his words.

They both watch Galdor and Fingon, now twirling on the dance floor. Fingon’s hands are firmly planted on Galdor’s waist, and the man grins brightly at him, blue eyes all for Fingon.

“The boy looks quite smitten with him,” Aegnor tells Finrod.

“He has no chance against our cousin’s charm,” Finrod snorts.

“Care for a dance, brother?”

“Why not,” says Finrod with a smile, and jumps up, pulling Aegnor from the bench with him.

[pharawee]

So. Addicted Heroin Thailand.

A small disclaimer first: I have neither watched any of the Chinese adaptations of Addicted Heroin nor did I read the novel. No wait, that's not true. I watched a few eps of the first series years ago but I barely remember anything about it (just global pandemic things, I guess).

Also, I only watched the tv-version of the first ep, which is apparently a whole 10 minutes shorter than the uncut version (and whatever they decided to cut, it's probably not spicy - unless it involves som tam or something) but ... I really like it so far? The cheap cash-grab argument that I've seen on MDL (🙄) doesn't hold up at all because they clearly put a lot of thought into this to turn it into an adaptation that (to me as an interfan at least) feels genuinely Thai - from ror dor to the public school backdrop to Pop reciting a poem by Sunthorn Phu (fun fact: it's the same poem that was prominently used in I Feel You Linger in the Air).

I also really like the production quality. It feels light and soft, kind of nostalgic actually - and while that's not how you'd describe the tone of the original novel (which is at least somewhat dark and toxic, I believe?) I don't think it necessarily has to since it's an adaptation and not a remake.

This is only the first episode of course and if you're hesitant about how this show will navigate around the age gap of the actors in light of the mature source material I'd hold back on watching for at least a few more eps.

That being said, I'm reasonably sure that Addicted Heroin Thailand will be a lot more soft and lighthearted than the original(s) - not unlike Jinloe's last show Hit Bite Love that had the younger cast in a separate, much more fluffy storyline.

Unfortunately, some people seem to expect or even want the show to be as dark and explicit as the novel, and there's of course nothing wrong with that, except that's not really a possibility with a cast that young. Going by what I've seen of the show so far, Jinloe are aware of this and have adapted the source material accordingly.

Granted, they could have chosen another, more lighthearted novel to adapt, but personally I don't think that an adaptation needs to be 100% screen-accurate (or is it novel-accurate?) to be an entertaining watch. There's plenty of themes to focus on, after all. Afaik, Stay With Me (the second Chinese adaptation) was well-received and the main characters didn't even kiss, so why single out this production as exploitative and unsafe* before it's even aired?

*Oh, and I've also seen people explicitly bash the show for its Thai-ness which is another matter entirely.

With the way things are right now (and I say this in good faith - don't go where I can't follow, Jinloe! 🙏) I don't really see how this show could ever live up to the controversy. Right now at least, it's got gmmtv-levels of toxicity (so, uh... about none).

tl;dr: The first episode of Addicted Heroin Thailand was cute and well done. That's about it.

[aracaranelentari]

People always talk about Fingolfin "following Fëanor" during the Flight, but hardly ever mention that his words to Fëanor are just an afterthought, a bonus, not the main reason he went. The first and one of the two most prominent reasons was because Fingon urged him. And Fingolfin marching in the Flight of the Ñoldor against his wisdom because Fingon urged him is so fascinating to me, mostly for what it may imply for Fingon angst.

I mean he was at the forefront of Fingolfin's host until at least Alqualondë; though after Alqualondë it's never mentioned again, so I wonder if he stopped leading first after that. But my point is: Fingolfin marched behind him, he followed Fingon. And what became of him following Fingon into exile? The Doom of the Ñoldor, Alqualondë, Fëanor abandoning them, them needing to cross the Helcaraxë and losing tons of people, Argon and Elenwë's deaths, etc etc...

Not that any of this is directly Fingon's fault, of course, but I wonder if Fingon had a moment where he looked at his father after Fëanor abandoned them and just thought "This is my fault, he's here because of me. He could have been happy with his wife, mom, and brother in Valinor but instead he followed me and now we're Doomed and in despair".

Because after that, Fingon followed Fingolfin. He followed his father across the Helcaraxë, he saved Maedhros in part to heal the rift between their hosts and make things easier for his father, he held Dor-Lómin for his father and then vacated it when it was given to Hador, he worked seemingly directly for his father as a war commander during the Siege (beating back Glaurung, that orc host that tried attacking them from the north etc). It just seems to me that he was glued to his father's side and did almost everything for him, for his sake. I wonder if this was to "make it up" to Fingolfin in his mind for dragging him into this mess, and/or maybe because after Alqualondë Fingon no longer trusted his own rash decisions.

This is just one potential theory/interpretation, I know, but... Mmm, yum, yummy angst,,,. ..

[multific]

Sugardaddy Jesse Cromeans - Preference

Jesse Cromeans x Reader

Warnings: Smut

You were nothing like the woman he killed. You were so different and yet, you piqued his interest more than anything.

He knew he needed to have you in one way or another.

You were too precious to kill, so he used the one thing he had, money. 

Seeing just how bad of a financial situation you were in, he knew he didn't need to use much convincing. 

And soon you became his sugarbaby. Although you hated the title so he just called you 'My Girl'. At least that was your name in his phone.

You at first found his text to speech thingy a bit scuffed, but it was a good communication form. And you got used to it quickly.

At the beginning of your relationship, he wouldn't tell you about his hobby. It is because he decided to distance you from his bad side.

You are the most precious flower, how could he ever taint your perfection with such horrible scenes? You were not meant to see blood and bodies laying around. 

He would often tell you that he is on a trip and he would always come back with many many gifts. Forget any clothing you had in the past, Jesse would hire a stylist to help and create a new wardrobe for you.

Clothes, jewellery and anything you can ask for.

It was all yours within moments of you saying anything. No matter the price.

You would fail to notice, but in a way, these techniques were so you wouldn't start poking your nose around. 

He would walk around with you, showing you off to everyone. You wouldn't know why he loved to see you in silver metallic dresses, but who were you to ask?

When he finally decided to share that side of him with you, if you were honest, you kind of expected it.

He was happy to see you not freaking out, he paid special attention to you and you not even once tried to call the cops.

He loved that.

It was proof you were fully his.

And as a reward, he planned a romantic weekend.

Now, sex with him before and after knowing wouldn't be different.

First and foremost, he would never do something you are not comfortable with. Communication is key. So expect him to bring up topics like that during dinner.

He loved to tie you down. Of course, he is the dominant, no matter what position you two are in.

You would call him Daddy, of course. 

Loves to hear you moan and groan. Wants you to keep making those sounds, he even records them if you give permission. He would use it as your notification sound.

Imagine him, sitting in an important meeting, all business, everyone serious and then, you send a text. Your loud moans echo in his meeting room, everyone freezes as he reaches into his pocket and replies to your text. No one dares to ask. No one dares to comment or even give a side eye to him.

In bed, he could be rough, never to the point of hurting you. He would love to edge, overstimulate and make you squirt. Even if you say you can't, doesn't mean he wouldn't try.

Aftercare with him is always sweet.

He would never run off after, he would stay and make sure you are okay. You can be fucked out to the point of being delirious, he would always take care of you. Clean you, shower you, and give you many many kisses.

Being his sugarbaby would not last longer than a couple years, because after having you around long enough, he would have to have you fully to himself so he would ask you to marry him.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[veny-many]

Wolffe: They says Kel-Dor can live for hundreds if they are great Force user.

Wolffe: So it means that even we all live peaceful, my General will outlive us...

Plo: Yes, but we will make sure you will fulfill the rights and happiness you can make in your lifetime.

Wolffe: General...*tearing in eye*

Rex: Brother, in that case many of us would be outlived by Jedis.

Gree: In my case, Yes, he would definitely outlive us.

Anakin: Hey, don't think about it heavily. Snips will outlive me so your in same ship with me, Rex.

Yoda: Many of my friends joining the Force, I already saw. In great times of my memory, they will be always remembered. You too, even after the long time we will part apart, I will remember.

Gree: We would be honored, General...*tearing in eyes*

Anakin: Yes, I would be too, Master Yoda.*tearing in eyes*

Ahsoka: And I will always remember you, Skyguy. Even the most chaotic and disappointing times!

Anakin: Wow, I have a faith you will do that for me.

Plo: Ah, you makes us proud with your kindness, little 'soka. :)

Neyo: Many of us emotionally weeping over Jedi's kindness. Not that I can't understand, but still feels like idiotic.

Wolffe: Because you're Neyo, right? You always hides your sensitive emotions with your cynical words.

Neyo: What, you're the one who has reputation of grumpy Commander.

Wolffe: Hey, at least I'm being honest!

Bacara: Stop it, it's rarely peaceful evening. You are always bickering each other.

Bacara: Well, in my case, I don't think I need to worry about same thing.

Ki-Adi:

Wolffe: *gasps*

Gree: *gasps*

Rex: *gasps*

Bacara: ...That doesn't mean you should die earlier.

Ki-Adi: Of course I know lad

Wolffe: Quick! It's rare chance to mock Bacara again!!

Neyo: Aww, Bacara, you still struggling to communicate?

Bacara: Yes.

Bacara: And I will make sure your Generals outlive you all, RIGHT NOW.

Wolffe, Neyo: *running for their lives*

Ki-Adi: But what about the peaceful even- nevermind not that I can stop you.

Yoda: Joyful evening, we have. Cherish, we should.

Anakin: Yes, and it's also chaotic. And I LOVE it.

[marta-bee]

@outofangband liked my zeroing in on Tolkien's comparing Erendis's beauty with Morwen's in the last post. I actually made a verbal slip and used the wrong name, so that post ended up seeming more focused on Morwen than I meant. But @outofangband's comment got me thinking more about Morwen's story, and that lens is turning out to be quite interesting. So let's dig in a bit more.

(Also: This, kiddos, is why you comment, on Tumblr and AO3 and everywhere else. It's the back and forth that really makes fandom worth the effort.)

It's been entirely too long since I've read the Quenta Silmarillion, and I've not read the Narn i Hîn Húrin at all, so doubtless there's people more familiar with their story than me. But briefly: Húrin was a lord in one of the Elf-friend Houses of Men. He was part of the Union of Maedhros (First Age political alliance between elves, men, and dwarves to resist Morgoth), fought in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad/Battle of Unnumbered Tears beside Fingon. Said battle earned its name, Fingon and countless others (including most of his household) is killed, and Húrin himself is captured and tortured for decades.

Morwen is his wife and the mother of Túrin and Nienor. She stayed behindi n Dor-lómin (Húrin's settlement), and after the Nirnaeth Easterlings allied with Morgoth sweep in and take over. They leave her alone, at least at first, thinking her some kind of a witch. If memory serves it was connected to her beauty, which they thought was preternatural and suspected her of having dealings with elves that made her dangerous. Túrin she sends off to Doriath so Thingol can raise him in safety; Nienor stays with her in Dor-lómin until Nienor is grown and the two women go searching for Túrin at last.

*******************

It's such a different situation in so many ways to Erendis's, so it's a bit fascinating how similar their lives are here.

After their marriage, Aldarion and Erendis lived together in Armenelos, and had a daughter. They planted the elven-tree in their garden, and the song-birds settled there. "

This got long, I'm afraid, but is a good read in its entirety. "In heart Erendis was glad [to have a daughter rather than a son], for she thought: "Surely now Aldarion will desire a son, to be his heir; and he will abide with me long yet." For in secret she still feared the Sea and its power upon his heart; and though she strove to hide it, and would talk with him of his old ventures and of his hopes and designs, she watched jealously if he went to his house-ship or was much with the Venturers."

It doesn't take a genius to understand how these stories work, and it shouldn't be surprising it didn't work out that way.

Erendis learned of these things, though Aldarion had not spoken to her of them, and she was unquiet. Therefore one day she said to him: "What is all this busyness with ships. Lord of the havens? Have we not enough? How many fair trees have been cut short of their lives in this year?" She spoke lightly, and smiled as she spoke. "A man must have work to do upon land," he answered, "even though he have a fair wife. Trees spring and trees fall. I plant more than are felled." He spoke also in a light tone, but he did not look her in the face; and they did not speak again of these matters. But when Ancalímë was close to four years old Aldarion at last declared openly to Erendis his desire to sail again from Númenor. She sat silent, for he said nothing that she did not already know; and words were in vain. He tarried until the birthday of Ancalimë, and made much of her that day. She laughed and was merry, though others in that house were not so; and as she went to her bed she said to her father: "Where will you take me this summer, tatanya? I would like to see the white house in the sheep-land that mamil tells of." Aldarion did not answer; and the next day he left the house, and was gone for some days. When all was ready he returned, and bade Erendis farewell. Then against her will tears were in her eyes. They grieved him, and yet irked him, for his mind was resolved, and he hardened her heart. "Come, Erondis!" he said. "Eight years I have stayed. You cannot bind for ever in soft bonds the son of the King, of the blood of Tuor and Eärendil! And I am not going to my death. I shall soon return." "Soon?" she said. "But the years are unrelenting, and you will not bring them back with you. And mine are briefer than yours. My youth runs away; and where are my children, and where is your heir? Too long and often of late is my bed cold." "Often of late I have thought that you preferred it so," said Aldarion. "But let us not be wroth, even if we are not of like mind. Look in your mirror, Erendis. You are beautiful, and no shadow of age is there yet. You have time to spare to my deep need. Two years! Two years is all that I ask!" But Erendis answered: "Say rather: 'Two years I shall take, whether you will or no.' Take two years, then! But no more. A King's son of the blood of Eärendil should also be a man of his word." Next morning Aldarion hastened away. He lifted up Ancalimë and kissed her, but though she clung to him he set her down quickly and rode off. Soon after the great ship set sail from Rómenna. Hirilondë he named it, Haven-finder; but it went from Númenor without the blessing of Tar-Meneldur; and Erendis was not at the harbour to set the green Bough of Return, nor did she send. Aldarion's face was dark and troubled as he stood at the prow of Hirilondë, where the wife of his captain had set a great branch of oiolair��, but he did not look back until the Meneltarma was far off in the twilight.

So: two women, left behind by their husbands to raise young daughters. Húrin's departure makes sense -- he's going off to fight Morgoth, to make Dor-lómin safe. Aldarion's seems much more voluntary and optional if not downright selfish. I'm trying to remember the almost physical compulsion he had before he married Erendis, to go adventuring again. I'm trying to be sympathetic. But it's not Erendis trying to "bind for ever in soft bonds." It's what Tar-Meneldur warned him about when he first became engaged to Erendis: that a man cannot have two wives. If these are soft bonds, it's just what Aldarion chose for himself.

But for the first time, Erendis doesn't exactly seem blameless.

All that day Erendis sat in her chamber alone, grieving; but deeper in her heart she felt a new pain of cold anger, and her love of Aldarion was wounded to the quick. She hated the Sea; and now even trees, that once she had loved, she desired to look upon no more, for they recalled to her the masts of great ships. Therefore ere long she left Armenelos, and went to Emerië in the midst of the Isle, where ever, far and near, the bleating of sheep was borne upon the wind. "Sweeter it is to my ears than the mewing of gulls," she said, as she stood at the doors of her white house, the gift of the King; and that was upon a downside, facing west, with great lawns all about that merged without wall or hedge into the pastures. Thither she took Ancalimë, and they were all the company that either had. For Erendis would have only servants in her household, and they were all women; and she sought ever to mould her daughter to her own mind, and to feed her upon her own bitterness against men. Ancalimë seldom indeed saw any man, for Erendis kept no state, and her few arm-servants and shepherds had a homestead at a distance. Other men did not come there, save rarely some messenger from the King; and he would ride away soon, for to men there seemed a chill in the house that put them to flight, and while there they felt constrained to speak nail in whisper. One morning soon after Erendis came to Emerië she awoke to the song of birds, and there on the sill of her window were the Elven-birds that long had dwelt in her garden in Armenelos, but which she had left behind forgotten. "Sweet fools, fly away!" she said. "This is no place for joy such as yours."

Erendis locks herself and Ancalimë away. When the two years passed, she shut down the house in Armenelos and isolated herself in the house "ordered the house in Armenelos be shut, and she went never more than a few hours' journey from her house in Emerië. "Such love as she had was all given to her daughter, and she clung to her, and would not have Ancalimë leave her side, not even to visit Núneth and her kin in the Westlands. [...] But the women were chary in their speech to the child, fearing their mistress; and there was little enough of laughter for Ancalimë in the white house of Emerië."

This... is not healthy. This is concerning, actually, and from the outside it seems avoidable. It's not, quite, because she's been abandoned by her husband, twice now in a way. And from Erendis's perspective there was nothing compelling Aldarion to leave. If anything, he turned it around on her and blamed her for trying to imprison him on land.

Compare them to Morwen and Nienor, whose husband and father did have a good reason to leave. I'm not entirely clear why they stayed in Dor-lómin rather than going to Doriath with Túrin, except that the story needed them to be separate. Maybe they thought Húrin would escape and come back to them there? Maybe it just seemed safer than traveling somewhere else, since the Easterlings left them alone? But her isolation comes from being surrounded by enemies, and she doesn't seem to isolate Nienor more than their security requires, at least not that I remember. Whereas Erendis bars all men from the main house, makes Ancalimë's whole life surround her in a smothering sort of "love," keeps Ancalimë separate even from her grandparents.

I keep thinking about the Hobbit narrator's line, that  "things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway." This is a story, and stories require things to happen. Morgoth provides a convenient villain, whatever else he is, that drives Húrin and Morwen apart. But Númenor in these early days is a land of peace, this is the golden age, things are supposed to be happy, which is precisely what they can't be if there's to be a story worth telling. It almost seems the nature of Men that if there's not a conflict near at hand they'll invent one; or that something deep inside them, their striving nature will compel them to do just that.

Psychologically, I don't want to blame Erendis because I like her so much. She's become a kind of Blorbo for me. And I do think she's got a right to feel betrayed and abandoned, even as she's materially well taken care of. However unhealthy her actions are here, and however much she's hurting Ancalimë, it's clearly coming from some deep pain. But Morwen's isolation is so easy to understand, compared to Erendis's! It's rational in its way, whereas this just seems unnecessary. That's probably what makes the story so interesting, even if I do want to shake her a bit by the shoulders, and send Ancalimë off to Núneth's house for her own protection.

What can I say? God save us for ourselves when there's no baddie near at hand. It's all so depressingly human.

[hauntingblue]

Aaand back with one piece. Not even a week

[bucketsofmonsters]

Where the Light Enters - Part 9

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, cheating, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 4k

ao3 link

Masterlist

It turned out her last outing was not to the desert she’d gotten hurt in. She knew this, of course, because now she was being dragged back to the desert she had been hurt in. 

Dorian and Bull were both tagging along, alongside Cole of course, and Dorian seemed intent on not letting her forget he’d accidentally hurt her here, absolutely focused on mentioning it every few minutes. 

Now that she was healed, Bull seemed to find it all very amusing. 

“I learned some protective magic,” Dorian said, for what was not the first and would certainly not be the last time this outing. “So even if any stray spells fly your way you’ll be completely fine, my dear.”

“Dorian,” she said, whipping around and kicking up sand as she did. “I swear, I forgave you moments after it happened. There are no hard feelings between us and I trust you implicitly, you do not need to keep doing this.”

He nodded, seeming to take her words to heart. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

“Good.” She nodded with a finality that she hoped would put an end to the issue once and for all. 

And then they were back to walking through the goddamn desert. She was going to throw a fit one of these days. They needed the powers in her hand so badly and yet they seemed intent on letting her die of heatstroke. Let’s see how well they can seal rifts then.

She’d told Cole she’d forgo the hat, this time at least. It was too risky of a behavior to do in front of Bull, might start him asking questions about their relationship she didn’t want him getting the answers to. 

Frankly, it had been too risky of a behavior in front of Blackwall and Sera, but she’d been getting sloppy lately. Sera had already seen them together and Varric clearly knew something was going on so any attempt to maintain total secrecy was already going poorly. 

But so long as Bull didn’t find out, everything would be fine, and neither Sera nor Varric seemed the type to snitch on her. 

The trip was far from comfortable. Bull had come and dragged her off with little explanation and she was relieved to see that Cole was coming along at all, half expecting him to be excluded from Bull’s chosen companions. But he seemed to have picked up some sort of budding friendship between her and the spirit and respected it, or perhaps had just randomly chosen him and she’d gotten lucky.

But then, luck was so rarely on her side. She hated giving Bull credit for anything, but it certainly seemed the more likely answer. 

She wasn’t entirely sure why he’d brought Dorian along until their trip had gotten underway. At first she’d thought maybe he needed a mage and Dorian had been the least awful option, but that didn’t really make sense. Solas and Bull seemed to have a largely pleasant relationship, besides the minor petty bickering that Solas seemed incapable of avoiding with anyone. 

Dorian, on the other hand, seemed to have a general and continued dislike of Qunari, for fair reasons. She was pretty sure she’d caught wind of Qunari disfiguring mages, sewing their mouths shut to keep them from being a threat which was horrifying if it was true. 

Not that she really cared, she’d heard equally horrifying stories of what Tevinter mages did to their slaves, ones that Dorian had done very little to put out of her mind. 

As they journeyed, Rosemary began to wonder if Bull had brought Dorian just to antagonize him. He seemed fond of doing that, poking at the mage with subtle little jabs that reminded her that Bull wasn’t just a warrior, he was something of a spy too. 

Dorian did everything but take it in stride, sputtering out poor counters to Bull's jabs, making it very clear how much the Qunari was getting to him.

“Hey Dorian,” Bull called up, kicking up sand as he walked. “Very shiny staff you’ve got there, do you spend a lot of time polishing it?”

Dorian sputtered out something barely intelligible before asking, “Does anyone mind if I kill him?”

“I mind,” Cole declared. “But you didn’t mean it.”

Rosemary realized with a spike of irritation what this was. 

Bull wasn’t goading Dorian on, he was flirting. The disgust she saw in Dorian’s eyes when he looked at Bull was disgust at himself for being attracted to him. 

She couldn’t help but feel a little bitter that she couldn’t flirt with Cole but here he was, doing this in front of her. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. 

At the very least, it didn’t seem like a serious instinct Bull was pursuing, moreso having fun watching the mage squirm. 

She felt another jolt of annoyance at the fact that he’d noticed this in Dorian before she had. He could be a better fighter than her but she couldn’t allow him to be better at reading people than she was, then what was she even left with. 

It also made her incredibly nervous. She was already being too obvious about her relationship with Cole, especially if he was displaying far more potency in reading people than she’d assumed. 

Why had he brought Cole along? What if it was to trap them out, to test his suspicions.

Paranoia roared its ugly head inside her. But it wasn’t paranoia, not really, not when he was clearly demonstrating his abilities like this. It was reasonable caution and she had been far from cautious. 

She had to stay away from Cole for the rest of the trip, there was no other way about it. 

Cole spoke then and for a moment, she was worried he was going to declare her thoughts to the whole group. After a moment, she realized he was pulling his words from someone else’s head, bidding herself to relax, “You like the way he talks, strong words, but sometimes you think he could be soft too. They’re never soft with you.”

“Cole,” Bull said, voice firm but patient. “Let the man have his thoughts.”

“But they want to get out,” Cole said. “He wants to say them, can barely keep them in.”

“And they’re still his. Leave it be.”

She wondered if Bull’s caution was for her sake or for Dorian’s. She wished she could tell them that she didn’t really care and that she supposed she was glad that at least someone was enjoying Bull’s flirting, but she couldn’t. 

It turned out when she swore to herself that she wouldn’t talk to Cole, she ended up not speaking to anyone at all. Cole seemed happy to chatter away, dictating the others' thoughts to them and pestering them with questions whenever it was allowed, and Bull continued pushing Dorian’s buttons. She honestly wasn’t sure if Dorian was more likely to kiss or kill Bull. 

They closed a few rifts, Dorian diligently keeping her safe with his magic throughout, terrified of hurting her again. She couldn’t help but think that outside of this whole performance, Dorian had good reason to want her dead. It would get her out of the way, free Bull up. She really wished she could tell him she wasn’t a threat, that he was welcome to take Bull from her. 

But Bull was too good of a contingency plan in case things went south, so she held her tongue. 

The rifts were not the only threat in the desert, and after they closed a few Rosemary found herself sitting in her protective bubble on the sand, watching her three fighters take down a horde of bandits. 

When she knew no one was looking at her, she usually watched Cole. The way he danced between enemies, fading in and out of the physical world, every blow placed perfectly and intentionally. 

But now she was too wary to do that, instead propping her head up on her hands and watching Bull with a dazed, content look on her face. Just in case. 

When the fight was over, Dorian let her out and she immediately started looting through the bandit’s items, a well worn tradition. Dorian always gave her a funny look when she did it, insisting that she surely had enough money to not have to scavenge what she needed. Bull seemed to understand the instinct, taking from the spoils himself. Cole only ever wanted trinkets, letters and pendants and little figures stored in people’s pockets. 

She always looked for things for him but rarely was there anything he would find useful. The human sized enemies they fought tended to wear the heaviest armour they could find and wield big swords and crossbows. 

But this time, deep inside one of the bandit’s jackets, lay a dagger. 

It was tinged with green, flickering in the light, like it was fade-touched. 

She passed it to Cole, breaking her sworn silence. “You want this?”

He looked down at it, face unreadable, before he nodded, hiding it under his jacket with the rest of his knives. 

They took down as many rifts as they could before they had to camp. Rosemary tried to subtly signal to them that it was time for rest, yawning whenever someone looked her way. 

Eventually they got the hint.

As they began to set up tents, a smaller one for Dorian and a larger one for Bull, she realized that maybe she shouldn’t have been so eager. 

Of course she would share a tent with Bull. Why wouldn’t she?

She couldn’t even make an excuse and stay with Cole if she wanted to. It was pretty well known by now that he didn’t sleep and any tent they set up for him would just sit there, unused, so they’d stopped bringing one. 

She just didn’t want to be stuck with Bull. 

As such, she was spending as long beside the campfire as she could

Cole had offered to start it, pulling out his little fire starting kit that she hadn’t seen in a very long time. She honestly didn’t think he still had it. 

Dorian waved him away and started a fire with a flick of his wrist, roaring over the wood immediately with no need to carefully stoke it up to a full flame. 

She knew Cole well enough to know he was disappointed, but Dorian didn’t, and he brushed right past the interaction. 

“So,” he said. “Time for an early night? I’m sure we’re all tired.”

Rosemary shook her head despite the exhaustion tugging at her bones. 

Bull laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. “Not quite a surprise, not like you did much out there.”

He was entirely right and that didn’t stop the comment from grating at her. 

“Well,” Dorian said, brushing off his clothes as he stood. “I need some rest. The rest of you can stay up all night if you wish but some of us need sleep.”

“Enjoy your beauty sleep,” Bull said with a scoff and Dorian glared at him before retreating, 

“I gotta turn in too,” Bull said, pressing a warm hand into the small of her back before getting up. “You should come join me soon.”

She nodded and gave him a soft smile. “Will do.”

He left and she lingered still. Just a little longer, surely Bull wouldn’t fault her for just a little longer. 

“Can we trade?” Cole asked from beside her, holding out the dagger she’d given him a few hours before. 

“What?” she asked. “Are you tired of it already?”

“No. I would like yours.” He spoke in an almost whisper, clearly making some effort to be quiet. It seemed the most secretive he could get and she found it as horribly endearing as it was dangerous.

“Mine? It’s way too small, not made for your type of combat. You’re better off with that thing.”

He shook his head. “I want yours. It wants to be seen.”

She pulled her dagger out. It was as ordinary as a knife could be, a little smaller than average, meant for stealth kills and not outright battle. 

She had no real attachment to it. It was just useful, a good size and fairly sturdy. 

She pressed the hilt of it into his hand. “Keep them both.”

His nose wrinkled, a displeased expression crossing his face. “I wanted to trade.”

“Consider it a gift. Owe me one if you have to.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have anything to protect you.”

She shrugged. “I’m supposed to be practicing with the bow anyways, maybe this will motivate me. And besides, when do I ever end up actually fighting people?”

“You never need it in a fight,” Cole insisted. “You need it in the dark, when it’s your only way out, when you have to run.”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to be there the next time that happens,” she said, nudging him with her elbow. “You can bring the knife with you.”

She jumped as Bull yelled from behind her, calling “Kadan, you coming to bed?”

She was an idiot. Not even a day into swearing to be more discreet and she was saying deeply suspicious things right in front of Bull. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, why Cole had thrown her off her game so badly. She needed to get herself back in check. 

She gave Cole a nod that was friendly at best and then disappeared into Bull’s tent. 

He pulled her into his side instantly, tugging her down to the oversized bedroll. 

She hated the way he touched her. 

She recognized, intellectually, that it wasn't his fault. She responded to it, pushed back into wandering hands, cooed over soft touches, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hate it, couldn’t hold resentment towards every one. 

This time, she squirmed out from under his hand, allowing herself this just this once. Even though she didn’t deserve it, having just been incredibly stupid. 

But it was too late to second guess, she’d done it already, now she needed to justify herself. 

“They’re right outside,” she said with a little giggle. “They’ll hear.”

“Who cares. Dorian would probably love it.”

“You’re so mean to him,” she said, voice quiet and light. “Don’t toy with him too much, you’ll give the poor boy hope.”

“Let him hope. Not like anything will come of it, but some hope can’t hurt.”

She rolled over with an amused little huff, hoping that was the end of it.

Barely a minute later he started snoring behind her, holding her tight to his chest. 

With no pillows to maneuver with, she was stuck. She didn’t sleep that night. 

Eventually dawn came and she could pretend to awaken, poking Bull until he woke and insisting she needed to use the restroom. He freed her and she sat outside beside the long extinguished fire. Cole was out there, exactly where she’d left him, polishing her knife and gripping the hilt of it hard enough that it made his knuckles even paler than they already were. 

She sat with him and watched him work until the other two stumbled out of their tents, Bull ready for the day and Dorian looking exhausted after Bull dragged him out of bed. 

She made them go home. 

Per usual, by the time they got back, all four of them were sweaty and gross. 

Maybe that wasn’t true. As she looked back, she realized Cole looked no more disheveled than he typically did. 

They had to report back, which was irritating, especially as filthy as they were. The others wanted to give Leliana notes about some dragon so she could adjust her maps and report some signs of stray wardens who apparently hadn’t been informed they were part of the Inquisition now. 

She had not been aware of either of these developments, to be entirely honest. Although, it seemed largely irrelevant, so long as it was getting to the proper channels. 

It did seem like surely her presence here was not needed though. It wasn’t like she had any extra information. Bull just would not let her run off, insisting that she stick around until he was done giving his report. 

Cole did not have the same issue. He could disappear, fade away before anyone noticed. 

The power was wasted on him as he lingered in the hall, looking around at the various people that gathered in the heart of the Inquisition. 

She could tell by the distant look in his eyes that he was listening in, categorizing the thoughts in people’s heads, planning what to leave them later, seeing what someone might not miss that another person might desperately need. 

He kept his eyes off of her, though they did dart back on occasion. She wondered if she was being loud. 

She could tell he was trying not to pay attention to her, doing his best to go along with her plans with Bull despite it being against the very core of him. 

He was shockingly willing to give into her, despite everything inside her running contrary to him. She wondered why sometimes, wondered what he saw in her that pulled that little selfish instinct from him, to help her despite everything. 

He shook his head at that, just barely, entirely incomprehensible to anyone watching him. She wasn’t sure if it was towards the idea she was selfish or that she didn’t deserve his aid. Perhaps both, they each seemed like equally likely sentiments. 

He adjusted himself, shifting on his feet and moving to be just a little less hunched over on himself, clearly rooting around in her head, although she imagined he was in a lot of heads right now. He had an uncanny ability to do that, though he did tend to focus on her more often than not. Maybe it was the tether that tied them together. 

She watched him shift, looking over at Bull and Dorian occasionally, clearly taking stock of the both of them, and she watched his eyes trace the cracks in the walls. She wondered if he heard someone worrying over the cracks or if the cracks themselves wanted to be healed. She watched him tilt his head back far further back than he needed to as his eyes followed them up so he could see out from under the brim of that ridiculous hat. 

And she thought that she might love him.

She knew he heard it because before she had the chance to worry over what the realization meant for her, he was kissing her.

Her mind went blank and her only instinct was to reach for him. She was glad she wasn’t given time to react, she would’ve given herself away in a heartbeat. 

But instead of being there for her to hold, Bull was now slamming Cole into a wall with a crowd of interested onlookers gathering. 

She immediately went into damage control mode, rushing to his side. 

Bull had Cole pressed up against the wall, his feet dangling below him and his hat awry. His eyes were wide, but then again, when were they not. 

Bull didn’t look that mad, more curious than anything. 

She willed her thoughts to Cole, pleading with him to take an easy road out, to tell Bull what he wanted to hear. All he had to do was tell him that he was overcome with some incomprehensible emotion and he just couldn’t stop himself, that he just wanted to know what it felt like to be a real boy. 

“I’d never kissed someone before,” Cole said. “I wanted to know what it was like.” It was monotonous and he was clearly uncomfortable with the lie, at least to her trained eyes. 

Bull dropped him unceremoniously and he landed on his feet with ease. 

A big, booming laugh escaped Bull and he slapped Cole on the back. “Can’t blame him, I would’ve wanted to kiss her too. Come on kid, let’s find you someone better to kiss. Someone more available.”

Bull walked off with Cole, hand firmly grasping his shoulder in a way that was vaguely threatening, and Dorian and her were left behind to give their reports. She hoped Dorian had been paying attention because she was in no shape to relay any real information. The way he stared after Bull did not boost her confidence. 

She slipped off while he wasn’t looking. 

Later that night Bull came back in a fantastic mood, which at least bode well for how Cole had been treated. 

According to him, he’d taken Cole to a brothel, sent him upstairs, and saw him come down an hour and a half later with a crying woman who’d sent him off with a kiss on the cheek and a ruffle of his hair and she didn't doubt it for a second.