#my friend has him and she speaks so highly of him!!!! but she also wants to fuck him so it's hard to tell lmao
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Kinda wanna try and pull for Althaitham this banner, kinda just wanna keep saving my wishes jsadadasda
#i mean I don't have enough to get him YET but I should at the end of the banner#maybe I'll wait until his next rerun lol because I do wanna save for Fontaine#my friend has him and she speaks so highly of him!!!! but she also wants to fuck him so it's hard to tell lmao#I already have Kazuha and I think he's perfectly fine at C0! so I probably won't pull for cons YET#sky rambles#lol shouldn't have wasted 50 pulls on the weapon banner but at least my Lisa has Yae's wepon since that's what I ended up getting#F2P life innit#I mean i'll also have next patch to keep saving so hmmm#having the same struggles on Honkai wanting to pull since everyone is new but I'm saving for blade because I love his design lol
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chemical override (7)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
a/n: again, I'm thanking all of yous for fueling the chemical override fire! Your comments/messages are so sweet and hilarious and wild - just as this story demands <3 Happy reading!
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
The arrangement you and Ewan share is in place, but jealousy rears its ugly head when another costar takes an interest in you. It isn't Aemond's allegiance that renders Ewan green-eyed, so to speak...
London
Whenever Ewan needs you, you answer the call.
Because, in truth, you need him too. This might not be the most savoury of arrangements; it might not be what you pictured in your head when you thought of getting back together.
But this way, you can have him, and he can have you.
It's a win-win situation. Even if you're not his, and he's not yours, as he so nicely put it.
So you're there when his need arises. Which, as it happens, arises often - intense, wanton, and greedy. He takes you for himself, your body left littered with markings that can only be from his teeth, his fingers, his aching manhood.
Beads of sweat would cloud your vision as the side of your face is pressed to the mattress, your legs bent to give him better access, so that he sinks deeper. He would whisper, - you're mine... you're mine... fuckin' mine, darling - when he leans down to pant roughly in your ear, momentarily forgetting about the one condition of this whole thing.
You're not his. But as he finishes inside of you, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss, you also have it in you to conveniently forget.
Your respective apartments in London set the stage for your trysts. Ewan comes over so often that he's had to use the back entrance, after getting papped once on a foggy Sunday morning, leaving your apartment building in the same clothes that he wore when he entered at midnight.
LATE NIGHT RENDEZVOUS! - on page 6! Game of Thrones spinoff stars can't get enough of each other!
When Ewan said that the whole thing was going to be a secret, he must have failed to account for the near-impossibility of that notion for a celebrity.
What can be kept secret for those in your line of work?
A romance between two young, highly coveted actors will see the light of day eventually, aided by the blinding flashes of papparazzi cameras.
Predictably, your friends catch on and demand to know how you little lovebirds found your way back together, because of course, they always knew you would.
Sadly, you have to burst Phia's bubble when she calls one evening. "We're not back together."
A pause. She mulls it over. "But the papers..."
"I know."
"He's been seeing you... " She claims, her tone growing unsure.
"He has."
"Then what... oh." You can practically picture the realisation coming across her face. Would it be accompanied by distaste or disappointment? Neither is good anyhow.
"We're seeing each other. But, not really, if you get what I mean."
"No!" she exclaims. You can hear shuffling in the background, like she just slammed the book she was reading shut. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"
"That's doesn't mat - "
"It's Ewan's, isn't it?" she answers, confirming her own suspicion. "That little devious bastard."
"It's not his fault," you find yourself shaking your head, then you startle as the buzzer to your apartment gets your attention. The routine is in place - it's the receptionist letting you know that Ewan is in the lobby. Speak of the devil...
Hmm. You walk to the intercom to let him upstairs, thinking of him coming to claim his prize. But he's not the devil - he's my twisted angel, whose heart I broke.
Phia isn't finished. "What do you mean, it's not his fault? If this was his idea, then let me just talk to the lad and screw his bloody head on straight."
You stand by the door, waiting for his arrival, because whenever Ewan needs you, you're there.
You need him too.
"Phi, I... I want this," you reply. "I have to go."
"Babe, we're not done here. You're not getting off easy."
"I know, I know," you smile at her genuine concern. "Maybe you're right, maybe this all wrong." But...
You know you don't have to say it outright. It's there to see, clear as day.
You love him.
She sighs loudly, resigning herself to the truth of her friend's predicament. "You'll figure this out, the both of you."
"Hope so, Phi." The doorbell rings. You rush through your goodbyes, dropping the call with a promise to keep her updated on what she deems a ridiculous situation.
You greet him at the door, and he stands there, with his black hoodie obscuring his face like he's Daemon about to do some nefarious act of sorts. And he just might. He chews on his lip, and smirks as he takes you in.
"Darling," he greets as he lets himself in. He shrugs off his hoodie and drops it in its usual corner, before beckoning for you with his arms reaching.
He runs his fingers through your hair, as he kisses your neck and inhales your scent, purring, " - fuckin' missed you, beautiful - " as his skilled fingers find the hem of your old shirt.
"My darling girl," he says, and you so badly want to hate him, because he's not being fair. Why does he get to act like this matters to him, when he made it clear that this is only so both your needs are met? Why does he look at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat in hope, with those same blue eyes that blazed when he once said he loved you?
How can you make sure that you don't fall back in love with him, when that love was never truly gone?
"Ewan," you moan as he pushes you against a wall, his rough hands kneading your flesh. You help him pull his shirt over his head, and your fingers drag upward along his skin until it finds the silver chain around his neck. You use it to pull him even closer, not a breadth of space between you.
He kisses you, and it's like an anchor finding home.
Yours or his, it matters little.
It nearly bubbles out of the two of you - those forbidden three words - each time his hips slam right into yours. It's almost there, fighting, waiting to be heard. His 'I really do fucking love you', and your 'I'm sorry about everything, about lying, all I ever wanted was you.'
Nearly. If only things were that simple.
He never stays for long afterward. Small talk is shared - about his new film, the ongoing production for yours, the upcoming engagements you both have for season 3 of House of the Dragon. The bloody weather, even.
The holidays have come and gone, and soon the two of you will again have to fly out to work - you, back to Atlanta; him, to LA for the pre-production of his film with Jenna Ortega.
He took on the film after all, and you should be relieved, but it's hard to feel any sense of ease when you know he will have to be with her in a way that he can't be with you. To the rest of the world, soon enough, they will have to play at being together. Your only claim to him rests in between the sheets, in the countless hollow trysts to be shared.
He doesn't reach for you after the deed is done, after his clothes are back in place and his hair is relieved of that post-sex tousle. As if touching you would cast him aflame.
But you feel his eyes linger on you, all the time, especially when you try to avert your gaze.
What is he thinking, you wonder. Who does he see?
On his way out, he has to deal with an obstacle in order to retrieve his hoodie. An adorable one, at that. Your black Bobtail cat, Sansa, nestles comfortably atop it. Her paws grip the cotton material of the hoodie as Ewan tries to pull it away.
"She likes you," you smile at the sight of Ewan gingerly trying to lift Sansa so she doesn't lash out at him. Even though the likelihood to that is low, with Sansa taking so well to Ewan's constant presence, so much so that you sometimes find her meowing at the door waiting for him to come back. The traitor.
"Good girl," he whispers to her, his hoodie almost released from the weight of her fluffy shape. "That's it."
Then he turns to you, smiling as he shrugs his hoodie back on. "I don't think she wants me to leave."
Like mother, like daughter, comes your thought. But when he straightens, and appraises you with a sideways glance, an amused hum escaping his lips, you realise that you said it out loud.
He smirks openly to himself, his ego blossoming. You roll your eyes at him, mumbling, "Oh, give me a break."
He simply shrugs, walking over to the door.
"I'll call you," he calls over his shoulder as a matter of courtesy, but he sounds uncertain, and the question lingers. Please don't say no, his tone practically begs.
How can you ever?
Arms crossed in an attempt to act nonchalant, leaning against the wall, you smile and say, "Try not to miss me too much, Mitchell."
His eyes linger as they always do. "Impossible task," he responds, casually, unaware that he just upended your whole world with his words.
He solidifies the grip he has on you, before he leaves.
And so the fucked up cycle continues.
Los Angeles
A ginger tabby cat slinks around Ewan's ankles as he sits in the director's office, reminding him of your Sansa and the way she would slink in between your bodies the moment she finds an opening, which is usually after the heated roll in the hay.
He smiles to himself on instinct, remembering how you once shared that you wanted to adopt another cat, preferably a Ragdoll, and name him Benjicat.
"Benjicat?" Ewan had asked.
"Yeah," you smiled, as you stroked a purring Sansa between her ears. "Benjicat Blackwood."
Ewan merely blinked, the connection dawning on him, the brilliance of your idea not lost on his supposedly indifferent mind. He could not hold back his warm and appreciative smile as he gazed at you, and for a moment, he pretended that things were back as they were.
He briefly had the idea that, perhaps, you should adopt the future Benjicat together.
Until the bitter thought crossed his mind - he wasn't the one who quashed that possibility first.
In the office in LA, Jenna sits daintily across from him, still aloof and somewhat of a stranger. She had given him a shy smile when she sat down at the table, exchanged pleasantries and surface-level compliments, the works.
Ewan feels nervous, almost ill at ease, and he normally would be able to single out the reasons why. It could be the notion of meeting an acclaimed director and his future costars. Trying not to stumble on his words, messing up their first impression of him. Maybe he had chainsmoked one cigarette too many before the meeting, worsening the anxiety-inducing effect of his staple black coffee with six sugars.
But this is different. He knows the thing he is dreading is when the matter of the PR business will be brought up.
So he doesn't know what emotion comes over him when the director, Autumn de Wilde, lightly remarks in an attempt to break the tension, "So, Ewan, how's your girlfriend?"
"M-my girlfriend?"
"Yeah," she says jovially, "your costar right? It's all over the socials."
"Oh, I love her," Jenna chimes in. "Is she back in England or is she filming somewhere?"
She's not my girlfriend, is what he should say, but he can't push the words out of his mouth. He's not even sure he wants to. After all, that is why he had the idea for the friends with benefits arrangement in the first place - because he can't cope with the fact that you're not his girfriend anymore.
"Mmm, yeah, she's - uhhh - she's filming in Atlanta," Ewan answers, dodging the main question, but not really.
"Well, say hello to her for me," Autumn says. "She's a keeper, huh? What with her being okay with the PR bullshit you will have to do."
Jenna purses her lips apologetically at him, then remarks, "I don't like that Bruce guy. I know some people who worked with him, and they share the sentiment."
Ewan feels lighter, knowing that they're on the same page. He asks tentatively, "That PR thing... is it set in stone or - ?"
Autumn sighs, "Apparently so, kid. But I heard along the grapevine that great ol' Brucey is dealing with some suit and he might have to pull out of the film."
"Some suit?" Ewan asks.
"A lawsuit," Jenna says.
"Oh." What the fuck. "If he pulls out then what that does mean for us?"
"Halle-fuckin-lujah, that's what," Autumn laughs. "More creative control, more logistics control... more happiness for everyone, really."
"Does that mean the PR relationship will be scrapped?" Ewan blurts out, before sheepishly adding to Jenna, "I mean, no offense - "
"None taken," she shakes her head at him. "I never had a liking for that stuff anyway."
"Well, we'd have to consult with the rest of the execs but they're a lot more likely to be conducive to requests," Autumn says.
Ewan feels a rush of relief, one he immediately wishes he can share with you. If you only you stuck it out with him. If only you didn't leave him hanging at the first sign of trouble.
If only you weren't unsure of how you felt about him.
He calls you afterward, because he wants to, the last remaining shred of his resentment towards you be damned.
"Production nearly finished, darling?" He asks, the pretense of holding back from using the term of endearment long since abandoned.
"Mhmm, I've got one more week here in Atlanta, Mitchell."
You've gone back to calling him Mitchell - not baby, love, or anything remotely romantic.
It bothers him, but he's determined not to let it show.
"I've got about a week and a half here still."
"Then we've got season three prep in London, right?"
"Yeah," he mumbles. "I'll see you back there I suppose."
"Okay," you reply, sounding uncertain of what to say next. "Are you... is everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," he automatically says. "I just thought... maybe I can come see you."
He listens to your steady breathing at the other end, and it calms him. He waits in silence, until you respond with, "Aren't you busy out there, Ewan?"
He is, and he is aware that it makes him seem desperate. It has only been a few weeks since your last rendezvous back in London, and he is supposed to remain nonchalant. Unaffected. This is not supposed to be some kind of lifeline for him. The thought of you should not be what runs through his mind at every waking moment.
He contradicts all of that, when he admits, "I am, but I want to see you anyway. I can fly out for a day and we could - "
"Ewan - "
"I need you."
You sigh deeply, and he pictures the silhouette of your shoulders rising and falling, the pinch in between your brows, the concerned frown your lips take the shape of.
He misses you. Do you miss him too?
"I know," you say. "But I'll see you soon in London, okay?"
That was not the answer he wanted. There are times when you sound dispassionate and he feels like you couldn't give less of a shit about him, and it kills him.
Even though it shouldn't, and this is what he should have expected, after proposing the arrangement.
But there are also times when you give him a spark of hope to cling to.
"Besides," you muse, "we'll soon have to prepare to give the fans what they want. All the love for Aemond and Alyna surely will not be ignored by the writers. I know I'm rooting for them."
Ewan laughs, "I am too."
Aemond and Alyna. You and him. There are fans, and there are fans, and Ewan is proudly a member of the latter.
"Okay, so, I have to head back inside," you say. "I - uhhh - "
"Yeah, darling, I'll see you soon." I miss you.
"Hmm," you respond, stealing his signature line right from his lips.
He stays on the line, unwilling to let you go.
"Mitchell?" you ask.
"Yes, love?"
"I guess you missed me too much after all."
He smiles wistfully, "I guess I did."
London
Production for your film wraps in early February, just in time for the initial preparations for the upcoming season of House of the Dragon.
You arrive back in London a week before the table read, just in time to join the rest of the cast for a mini reunion at Matt's apartment.
A few drinks in, with numerous tales regaled amongst the large group about what everyone has been up to for the past half year, and you realise just how much you missed being with the cast.
They truly are the best bunch of people you could have ever dreamed of working with.
You eventually found yourselves branching off into little groups, with some preparing food in the kitchen, others smoking out in the balcony, and the rest scattered in the expanse of the apartment.
Matt's place is well-decorated for a bachelor pad, with personal knick-knacks at every corner. You note this to him, as you sit on the plush carpet in his living room. Your little half-circle consists of yourself, Matt, Phia, Liv, Bethany, and Tom, all in varying degrees of inebriation, but either of the lads arguably take the cake.
"You see that?" Matt leans close, pointing to the green shelf nestled in the corner. "On the second level right there, is a prop I stole from season one."
"No way," you squint in that direction, unaware that he gives you a good once-over, the admiration in his eyes plain to see.
The others are quick to point it out in typical fashion.
"Now, now, Smithy," Tom quips. "Try not to burn holes in the girl with yer eyes there."
"She's my babe," Phia jokes, winking at you.
"Oh really?" Matt simply leans back on his palms, unaffected. "Not Ewan's?"
"Oop - " Liv's eyes widen like saucers. "Don't even go there, Smithy."
"Why ever not?" Matt shrugs.
"Guys," you shake your head, waving a hand in dismissal. "it's fine. It's... whatever."
"He's not here," Matt says. "We can talk about it."
"Gossip girl over here," Bethany smirks.
Matt was right in pointing out that Ewan is yet to arrive back from the States. Of course, Ewan had given you a call letting you know that he would be spending the night before the table read at your apartment.
But right now, in this moment, you didn't really feel like going through the sordid details of your affair.
"We can talk about it," you say, "but I'd rather not."
Matt laughs, "Okay. But are you or are you not together?"
"Matt," Tom groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in amusement at his mate's boldness.
"Hey, it's a simple question!"
"It is, isn't it?" you shrug, allowing him that, because he is speaking true. It is supposed to be simple. "We're not actually together... but some of you already know - " you shoot Tom and Phia pointed glances " - that we had a thing once, and we may have a thing still, only lesser and more casual." You look around the group, hoping they got the gist, and that no follow-up statements are necessary.
"Hey, I get it," Bethany replies. "It sounds complicated, but it's your business, sweetheart."
You hum gratefully. The others jump on another topic, but Matt slinks closer to you, with the on-brand glint in his eyes. He says, lowly, "That's good, then."
Your mouth parts in pleasant surprise, as you finally take notice of the way he looks at you. "Say that again, Smithy?"
"You heard me," he answers. Smooth. Matt has been known to be the resident casanova of the cast, with his undeniable charm on and off set. He can get along with absolutely anyone, and this includes the array of women who get pulled in by his charisma.
It's lost on you why he would now set his sights on you, but you can't deny that you enjoy the attention.
Fabien suddenly comes into view with that digital camera of his pointed towards your group. He snaps one of Tom whose raised bottle of beer half covers his smirking face. Then he turns to you and Matt, saying, "Give papa a smile, kids!"
Matt quickly slings an arm around you, making you lean against him. He coolly points to the camera, posing like he usually does. You smile widely, your brain in a pleasant daze from the alcohol, the banter, and the alluring scent of Matt's perfume.
"Send me a copy of that, Fabs," Matt comments after. Fabien will probably post the photo on his usual Instagram slideshow, but Matt happily stays off the socials.
"Gonna get it framed?" you joke, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.
"Oh, you bet," he winks at you, making you swallow nervously. Speaking to him now, in this way, you realise just how easily the Matt Smith is able to get with the ladies. Charm practically oozes off of him.
And Daemon was your original favourite, after all.
Fabien and Matt walk you and Phia back to your apartments in the wee hours of the morning. Though your neighbourhood was only 5 minutes away, the lads gallantly insisted that they wouldn't let you go without an escort.
Your group weaves its way through the empty streets of London, chatting and laughing away, the effects of the alcohol yet to wear off. At some point, Matt wraps an arm around you, and you let him keep it that way.
You have grown fond of him, having spent a lot of time with him during filming. And, well, you needed to keep your balance anyway.
Not to mention, he offers a pleasant distraction from having to yearn all the damn time for what you once had with Ewan.
Fabien and Phia walk ahead to her nearby apartment, so you're left with Matt in front of your building.
"We'll be spending a lot more time together this season, fortunately," he says.
"That's kind of a given," you laugh. "Alyna's never going to drop her oath to the Queen."
"And the King."
"Consort," you finish for him.
He laughs freely, shaking his head, before his expression turns a bit serious. He dips his face closer to yours, whispering, "And in real life? Is Alyna sticking with Aemond?"
That stumps you. Matt's blue eyes are indeed arresting, but one mention of Aemond is enough to bring you back into the Ewan Mitchell spiral.
But... you're not his.
You shrug in response, smiling softly, "I guess some things just aren't meant to be."
You become convinced that the universe must be testing you because your phone buzzes in that moment, revealing an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye.
Matt spots it easily, challenging you with, "So what then, beautiful? Are you going to answer the call?"
It buzzes once more, and another time, before you press decline.
Matt doesn't give you the time to regret your decision. He swoops down and plants a soft kiss at the corner of your lips. Nothing too much, but just enough to toe the line of simply being friendly.
"I - I better head inside - " you stammer, your face heating up.
"You better."
"I'll see you soon, Smithy."
He nods, "See you soon, my Alyna."
Ewan can hardly focus on the script in front of him. He struggles to get his lines out efficiently during the table read, and he hopes that no one else notices.
It would be a miracle if you actually take notice of him, with Matt stealing your attention as he sits to your right.
The cast and crew are positioned around the room, and you just happened to be directly across Ewan, right in his line of sight. He would revel in it, but not now, with Matt leaning in once in a while and whispering something in your ear that makes you softly giggle.
How unprofessional. Whatever he is telling you, it sure must be fucking fascinating.
He isn't entirely oblivious of your growing closeness with Matt. He saw the photos of the two of you walking the streets of London, snug against each other, but he chose not to think much of it. After all, how many times has Matt been pictured with an arm wrapped around a costar? That is just how he is. Open and friendly.
Ewan had not been inclined to think it meant something more in your case.
"Ewan," he hears Tom sharply whisper to his left. "It's your line."
The room is silent in anticipation, eager to get on with the script. You lock eyes with him and offer an encouraging smile, and he is just about to reciprocate, but then he notices Matt's arm resting on the back of your seat.
Like he has laid a claim on you.
Ewan ends up grumbling out his lines, lacking the vulnerability that Aemond is meant to be displaying in that scene.
His keeps his expression stoic, trying to do his best to accomplish the task at hand. A tiny consolation is that the script to season three seems to be marginally better than that for the previous season.
There is not a single scene of Aemond and Alyna thus far, but the script is littered with those of Daemon and Alyna. Which makes complete sense, since they're fighting for the same cause, and Daemon has been somewhat of a mentor to the young Alyna.
Ewan liked their dynamic, being a fan of both the characters, and their real-life counterparts. But the scene that is playing out before him may be enough to sway his bias to the contrary.
Daemon and Alyna. You and Matt.
Ewan scoffs to himself, forgetting where he is for a moment. Tom side-eyes his weird behaviour, thinking, the lad must have left his marbles back in America.
Ewan doesn't notice. His thoughts race a mile a minute - Do the writers not see the potential goldmine they've got with the Aemond and Alyna dynamic? Do they not know how crazy it would drive the fanbase?
Is Matt unaware that it was his name - Ewan's, and no one else's - that you were screaming last night?
Your sputtered little pants of his name rise from his memory, your breathing ragged by the time he finished making love to you the third round in the same night.
That... that was his.
You are -
"Mate," Tom clasps him on the shoulder, "drink some water, yeah? You look bloody flushed."
Ewan hums gratefully, nodding once, shaking the image of you from his mind.
After all, he wears his Adidas joggers today, and the thin material would not be able to conceal it if he ended up having a raging hard-on, in front of everyone during the damn table read.
When another scene of Daemon and Alyna comes on, with you and Matt eagerly reciting your lines to each other, the boyish lust that Ewan entertained essentially dies.
He purses his lips, a ghost of a smile, ever the good and supportive costar.
He raises his head to distract himself by looking around the table, eventually locking eyes with Phia, who had already been looking at him strangely.
You okay? she mouths.
His head snaps toward the sound of your laughter before he could respond.
"Shoot, sorry," you smile, apparently having read the wrong line. Everyone at the table waves it off, a cacophony of 'it's alright' and 'you got this' heard around the room.
When you finish the rather long, drawn-out speech Alyna makes, there is an intermission before the next scene.
People begin turning to each other to make comments, some stand to stretch their legs. Then Ewan hears it - "How'd I do, Smithy?" followed by "Not too shabby, my Alyna."
His Alyna?
Ewan flips the bloody table over in his mind.
Ewan calls you the following night, under the pretense of the arrangement.
In truth, he'd take anything. He could sit on your couch and watch paint dry, if it meant being around you.
"Not tonight, Ewan," you say, and his heart sinks.
"Why not?" he asks, uncaring about how downright needy he sounds.
"Uhhhm, I have a friend over," you reveal.
"Phia? I'm sure she'll understand."
"Oh, come on, Ewan. It's not Phia, and even if it was, I wouldn't just send her away."
"Who then?" he insists, but some part of him already knows the answer.
"Fabien," you say, "and Matt. But Fabien already left to go see Bella, so it's just - "
"You and Matt, huh," he spits bitterly. For an actor, he sure is unable to mask his emotions.
"What are you insinuating? We're friends. You're his friend too, Ewan."
"Hmm," his grip on his phone tightens, "you seem a lot closer than friends to me."
"You're being ridiculous," you scoff. "I would ask you to still come over if you want to hang out with us but not if you're being this unpleasant."
"Forget it," he practically snaps, immediately regretting his tone, "let me know when you're less occupied."
"Ewan - "
"It's okay, darling," he cuts you off, wanting to be done with the conversation already. "I'll come see you before the cast shoot." He refers to the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot the entire cast is slated to do in the coming week, the first offering of season three promo.
"Okay," you exhale, then say, "Sansa misses you."
That earns a weak smile out of him. If only her owner could say that she misses him too. "Does she?"
"Mhmm," you respond, and he hears the smile in your voice, "so... so you better come over soon or she might start clawing at the door."
Matt makes his presence known, his voice becoming audible as he walks into the room where you are, asking, "You alright, love?"
"Ewan, I gotta go," you say in a rush.
"Okay," he sighs in defeat. He drops his phone on the couch, then paces around his apartment, needing to get the picture of you and Matt canoodling out of his mind.
He audibly groans. Why must he torture himself so? If you say that you and Matt are just friends, then that must be the case.
My Alyna, Matt had called you.
In a sudden flash of madness or genius, Ewan picks up his phone and redownloads a certain wretched app.
It takes less than a minute, and soon he finds himself back in the mostly uncharted waters of Instagram. Careful not to accidentally like any post as he had before, he makes his way to the section that lets him create a new post.
Scrolling through his photo gallery, it doesn't take long before he finds one to his liking.
No editing is needed. He knows that the image and its subjects need no addition.
In his eyes, you are perfect as you are.
That night marks Ewan's second ever official post on his Instagram, yet again sending the entire fandom in a wild tailspin.
It's a picture of you sitting on top of your bed, hair slightly dishevelled, and with an old pyjama shirt on. Sansa is cradled on your bare thighs, and a smile graces your face as you pet her dotingly. The angle is from the side, where Ewan lay on his designated part of your bed, surreptitiously taking the picture.
The morning light cast a soft glow on your face, and the entire scene had made Ewan wish he never had to leave.
Under the post, reads the caption -
My Alyna.
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Some notes in the margins...
In part 8 - the EW photoshoot, more season three prep, and big news regarding Ewan's upcoming film!
I'm taking all your amazing ideas into account, and you'll continue to see smatterings of them in this story.
As always, I can't wait to talk with yous in the comments! Which couple is your endgame? <3
#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell imagine#ewan mitchell x reader#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#hotd#chemical override#aemond targaryen x reader
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You know Nesta really is HER.
She laughed at the children of the blessed.
She can see through Fae glamours and magic.
She told the human queens they were cowards.
She stole from the Cauldron.
She had the Cauldron, the most revered artifact of the fae that has the ability to create life and destroy everything by basically being the womb of the Mother, terrified of her to the point it went after anyone else but her.
She slapped her sister’s toxic fiancé in the face and told him he never deserved her anyway after he insulted her.
She scared off her baby sister’s toxic ex, told him off for his treatment of her sister, pointed her finger at him, and told him she’d rip his head off if he told anyone they were in spring.
She changed the entire trajectory of the books bc Sarah just couldn’t hate her
Sarah’s original plan was to have her with Lucien but the moment Nesta and Cassian saw each other it was a done deal and Sarah (basically the real life mother/cauldron) had to rewrite the books.
She did the math on how many ships the human lands would need in order to evacuate from the war.
She scared a death lord with her Made Sword
She can willed all three dread troves and has a special connection with them to the point of being able to portal them to her
She has a special connection to THE MOTHER. And a bargain with the Cauldron.
She’s been called a Death God, Kingslayer, Lady Death, Queen of Queens, Witch, Pillager of Death, Witch from Oorid, and Death Herself.
She is a Valkyrie and Oristian.
She encouraged some of the priestesses from the library (ones who have spent centuries in there without leaving) to join training by showing them there was nothing to fear.
She got a a usually disdainful blacksmith to smile with her inquisitiveness.
She marked the king with a death promise then beheaded him in the war when she got the chance. And held up his head in victory of her promise being acomplished.
She killed the first Kelpie seen in hundreds of years. Beheaded it and held it’s head in the same way.
She awoke a House and made it sentimental by befriending it with her magic.
She stabbed a man’s dick in the Blood Rite.
She led her team through the Blood Rite. Like any good General would do.
She held the line, giving up the chance of the win, so her found sisters could survive.
She spoke about becoming the leader of the first complete female fighting group in Prythian after five hundred years.
She had actual Death Gods speaking highly of her. Fearing her too.
The most powerful high lord in prythian feared her.
She unmade someone to avenge her mate. Her power stopped time when she unleashed it fully. She saved her sister, nephew, and brother-in-law all in the same morning after completing the blood rite. Gave up a fraction of her power for it, but made a bargain with the cauldron and spoke with the mother. Told her baby sister “I love you” for the first time, this was also the first time Nesta had ever said ily out loud to anyone. Decided that she wanted to have a mating ceremony. Hugged her brother-in-law after his mate and babe almost died even though they had some issues. Again all of this happened in the same morning.
She gave her Mask to an untrustworthy friend and by doing so saved both Prythian and Midgard. Perhaps other worlds and universes too.
She has infinite range👏👏👏
Please add anything that I left out! My girl has done so much I forget to list them all.
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she devil - charles leclerc
(black cat) ferrari driver reader x (golden retriever) charles leclerc social media au
a/n: the concept is stone cold driver meets sunshine driver, is infected by the happiness, and is cool with it because she fell in love. face claim is bella hadid :) ❤️
requests are open!
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scuderiaferrari
liked by 2,034,924
scuderiaferrari: We are extremely proud to announce our 2024 driver line up: Charles Leclerc, Il Predestinato, and Y/N L/N, La Diavolessa. We are certain this is a step closer to bring the championship back to Maranello, and to our Tifosi. ❤️
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charles16s: why is she named La Diavolessa?
y/nsupremacy: she’s from Italy and the tifosi have loved her forever, so they nicknamed her She Devil because of how she drives
y/ncupid: i have been dreaming of this for YEARS
leclercfosi: i wonder how she’ll team up with charles, she has always been a handful lol
fallingfory/n: she is a great sportswoman. women don’t have to be complacent to be good people, fck outta here w/ that narrative
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y/nusername
liked by 1,925,024
y/nusername: Ferrari 2024.
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charles_leclerc: Give them hell. Welcome to the team! ❤️🔥
sebastianvettel: I’m sure you will bring glory back to Maranello ❤️
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y/nusername:
liked by 1,234,245
y/nusername: New season, new cars. That was a great first race.
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charles_leclerc: 👊❤️🔥
scuderiaferrari: We are so proud of you!
lewishamilton: Welcome, huge start 💪🏼
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y/nusername
liked by 1,562,924
y/nusername: Amazing team results so far, let’s keep up the good work after the summer break.
leclercstarlight: miss girl doesn’t smile much does she
wildflowery/n: imagine being in 2024 and still being a “you should smile more” ass bitch, she’ll smile when she wants to
charles_leclerc: Amazing season 🏆❤️🔥
eurougeleclerc: he’s so whipped lol i’m calling it not
ferrarisduo: me when im delusional
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charles_leclerc
liked by 1,134,385
charles_leclerc: We did everything to maximize our results today. Big congrats to y/nusername for her first win; so very happy for you! ❤️🔥 The pizza celebration was better than anything.
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y/nusername: Thank you, Charles. You’ve been a great teammate.
alliny/n: what goes ON
shadowleclerc: she gives kimi and i love it
mastermindy/n: she’s like race win? cool
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y/nusername
liked by 1,035,475
y/nusername: Things didn’t go to plan in my race, but I’m genuinely happy for charles_leclerc. We will be back stronger.
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y/nsupremacy: y’all don’t get it she’s SMILING after a dnf because of A MAN
y/nhaven: she also literally defended for him. strategy had already fucked her up but the fact that she wasn’t coming for his throat… she must really like him lmao
charles_leclerc: Thank you, Y/N. Couldn’t have done with without you ❤️🔥
midnightcharles: he keeps using the heart fire emoji i can’t lmfao
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formulanews
liked by 54,724
formulanews: Charles and Y/N have been interviewed together for GQ magazine, and they were asked about the nature of their relationship as teammates or friends. Charles said: “I think the world of her and I admire her mentality and race craft a lot. I also think she is a great friend to me and everyone around her, I don’t know why people think she isn’t. Y/N brings a lot of passion to the grid.” Meanwhile, Y/N told the publication: “Charles is a good guy, and a better driver. Being his teammate is fruitful; so is being his friend.”
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starleclerc: y/n doesn’t speak much but when she does it’s meaningful
y/nheart: charles also spoke so highly of her like wow
leclercsplanet: honestly charles likes her a lot and y/n also seems comfortable with him which unusual
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f1waggossip
liked by 104,483
f1waggossip: We are as shocked as anyone else but Charles and Y/N have been seen acting very cozy on a yacht in Monaco. New relationship just dropped, out of literal nowhere!
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lovebirdleclerc: THERES NO MF WAY
eurougeleclerc: i was called delusional I CALL IT MANIFESTING
y/nhaven: what, and i can’t stress this enough, the fuck just happened
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y/nusername
liked by 2,794,924
y/nusername: Love :)
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charles_leclerc: my sweet girl ❤️🔥🤍
y/nhope: i am fainting rn like actually afraid for my life rn
dazzlingleclerc: pinch me fr
landonorris: she does smile everyone, i’ve seen it when they (disgustingly) kiss
danielricciardo: don’t be so jealous (it’s true, it’s disgustingly sweet)
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charles_leclerc
liked by 2,034,835
charles_leclerc: She is actually an angel 🤍❤️🔥
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y/nusername: Still she devil, just in love.
charles_leclerc: Give them hell forever.
carlossainz55: Can I just say you’re welcome for leaving Ferrari and letting Y/N join?
#f1#f1 au#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#formula 1#charles leclerc#Charles leclerc fanfic#Charles leclerc x reader#Charles leclerc social media au#Charles leclerc smau#Charles leclerc au
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looking through your eyes + nine
authors note: i know i've said this before, but this one might be my favorite. there are a few subtle hints spread throughout as well.....
i also listened to the song i named the story after while writing most of this chapter, so maybe recommended listening?
if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!
cw/tw: fluff, angst, language, inebriation, character being triggered, references to past csa, and suggestive themes
song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
masterlist
words: 12k (i can't be stopped, clearly)
And I see a girl Who is learning to trust
---Leann Rimes
In many ways, Roman is a simple man. The kind that believes obvious gestures, actions, or even lack of inaction should speak for itself. That there are some things that are just so clear as day, it doesn’t make sense for him to have to explain himself.
For him to have to repeat himself.
Well, that’s gone out the window as of recent months, because he’s constantly found himself having to do just that. And his day is starting off no different with a surprising and unwanted guest showing up at his office demanding to speak to him.
Bayley stands across his desk with her arms crossed and an almost glare on her face. “I’ve been texting you.”
The fact that she even has his number is an issue in and of itself, but he’ll tackle that another day. “I’m aware.”
The avoiding of said texts is that obvious thing that she seemingly doesn’t understand the why behind.
Bayley nods, very visibly keeping in a comment she’s at least smart enough to not make to the head of the Bloodline. Friend of his wife, or not. “Well, I would like to talk to you.”
Roman rolls his eyes, moving up from his desk to his filing cabinet to swap out expense reports he was trying to review before her rude, unwanted interruption. “I bet you would.”
“Seriously?” Ignoring her once again is the plan, Roman hoping that’s all it takes so that he doesn’t have to lose his temper before he even has his first meeting of the day. “It’s about Solana.”
And that is what finally catches Roman’s attention. He’s quick to turn around, expression suddenly hardened. “Talk.” She has his full attention. “Now.”
Bayley takes note of how easily it is to gather Roman’s attention with the simple mention of Solana. It’s surprising to say the least and telling as hell to say the most, but she keeps this little observation to herself.
“We’re having a Cinco De Mayo celebration at my family’s restaurant tomorrow night.”
“What does that have to do with Solana?”
Roman watches her hesitate for a second. “I want to invite her.”
For a split second, Bayley thinks she may have hit a stroke of luck when Roman doesn’t immediately shoot down her request. He seems to actually be thinking about it. And then he asks the question she knew would be the nail in the coffin. “Will Escobar be there?”
She’d like to just say no, as it’s highly unlikely he will attend, Bayley unsure if her cousin is even in the country. But, lying to the man before her has never turned out well for anyone, so she answers as honestly as she can. “I don’t know. You know he pops up at random times—”
Roman doesn’t even need to hear the rest. “My answer is no.”
She can’t be too surprised. Bayley wisely anticipated getting Roman to budge would be damn near impossible, if not entirely impossible.
“Roman—”
“Why the fuck would I allow her to be anywhere around that son of a bitch?”
To be fair, Roman’s relationship with Santos Escobar is tamer than most. They’re not allies, certainly not friends, and he doesn’t hate the man. It irritates him a bit how Escobar is a stubborn bastard and refuses to pledge loyalty and allegiance to the Bloodline, but that anger is eased by the fact that Escobar gives an even bigger middle finger to the Nightmare Factory.
His loyalty is to himself and the Legado Del Fantasma. That makes him a wildcard and potentially dangerous.
Roman won’t have Solana anywhere where danger could be present.
“You know as well as I do that while both you and my cousin have this weird ass Qué en es más macho thing going on, there’s all but a ceasefire. You've never attacked one of his men the same way he’s never attacked anyone in the Bloodline. That’s not going to change overnight just because your wife is present at a chorcha.”
Roman isn’t too full of himself to admit when someone has made a valid point, but as this involves Solana, the standards are a bit different. He won’t give Bayley that much. “Why should I even take the chance? You want to do something with Solana, take her somewhere else that’s on Bloodline or neutral territory.”
“My family’s restaurant is on neutral territory.” Bayley is happy to have another point of his she can counter. “And contrary to what the average, ignorant American thinks, Cinco De Mayo is an important part of our culture and our heritage, Solana’s heritage. I think she would really enjoy herself, that it would….that it would help her feel close to her mom.”
Roman is excellent in the way he remains absolutely unreadable even at Bayley’s point that has him seriously reconsidering his prior answer.
He has no doubt that would help her feel connected with her mom, being around reminders and in a space that’s so representative of half of who she is, who her mother was. He can’t see her not enjoying herself, which is something that doesn’t seem to happen a lot in her life thus far.
Just as he continues to mull over the options, Bayley adds on another defense. “I get where you’re coming from with the safety angle, but I’ll be there and Naomi will be there. Between the two of us, no one will touch her.”
Roman easily reads between the lines and identifies her unspoken request. “You don’t want Solo there.”
On one hand, he can understand it. Bayley not wanting his Enforcer there. Solo’s presence could be seen as him potentially scoping versus the real reason of serving as Solana’s personal guard.
Bayley doesn’t seem to be backing down, reminding with all the confidence in the world of her capabilities. “Like I said, Naomi and I got this.”
Roman will give her that. Bayley and Naomi could fight on his team any day. They’re just as brutal as the men, if not more when pushed. He knows they’d be able to keep Solana safe if need be. It’s that realization as well as the concern of depriving her of something that could make her happy that brings him to a revised answer.
“Fine, she can go.” Roman is quick to add on as an ominous warning, borderline threat, “but if anything fucking happens to her while she’s with you—”
“It won’t,” Bayley vows. “She’s our friend, and she’s family to Naomi. We look out for each other.”
Roman believes that. Believes that Bayley has seemingly pledged a loyalty to Solana that matches that of Naomi, and while he’d never fucking tell her this, he’s grateful she has someone like Bayley to talk to.
At his fill of socialization with people he doesn’t like, Roman is quick with the dismissal. “If you don’t have anything else to discuss with me about Solana, you can get the hell out of my office.”
Bayley is actually surprised she made it this long without being kicked out, so it’s under her breath she mutters, “a true gentleman.” She’s halfway to his door when manners get the best of her. “Hey, Roman.”
He’s back at his desk, gaze as irritated as when she first stepped in. “What?”
With a nod of respect and appreciation, she simply says, “thank you.” Whatever his response, or lack thereof, is after that is unknown because Bayley is out the door and on her way to invite Solana to what is sure to be a night of fun.
________
“Man, I tell you every dish Solana makes seems to get better and better.” Jimmy is rubbing his stomach as he places the now cleaned plate on the coffee table. “Where she been at all our lives?”
Once upon a time, Roman had a nice, quiet house that was his and his alone. Now though, it’s shared with a wife who really isn’t an issue, two obnoxious cousins who need to start paying rent at this point, and a dog who’s currently at the sliding door leading to the backyard having a one-sided bark off with a squirrel.
“Why are ya’ll always fucking over here?” Roman’s question is said with all the irritation manifesting in his muscular body. At the same time, he stands up from the sofa to retrieve the puppy he doesn’t feel like yelling at to shut up.
She might piss herself in fear or something.
“Come on,” he grunts, leaning over and taking up Dulce who is almost instantly quiet. “Making all that damn noise for nothing.”
Roman places Dulce in her bed in the living room and returns to his previous seat on the sofa when she hops up and walks her ass right over to lean up on the sofa to stare at him with her unspoken request.
Jimmy is the first to notice this. “I think lil Nacho Libre likes you, Uce.”
Jey chimes in between bites of whatever Solana’s latest dish is that she’s made for them. “She know English yet or Soso still got her only speaking Spanish?”
“Man, the dog can’t speak.”
“You know what I mean, motherfucker. Damn.”
Roman ignores the two imbeciles currently freeloading in his house and relents to just letting Dulce on the sofa. He’s not sure why she’s downstairs with them instead off on the second level where the girls are getting ready, but she’s already here now, so no sense in transporting her.
Dulce seems satisfied with her placement right next to him.
“I still can’t believe we weren’t invited.”
“I can get why they didn’t invite us, but they could have at least given Nicki an invite.”
Jimmy is quick with the obvious answer. “You know Nicki don’t fuck with Naomi like that, or Bayley, and definitely not Soso.”
“Cause she’s fucking psychotic.” Roman has zero issues with his cousin’s wife having little to no interest in getting to know Solana. It’s for the better. As he said, the bitch is psychotic.
“Once again, Big Dog, you ain’t gon keep disrespecting my wife like that.”
Roman is as unfazed by Jey’s threat as Dulce is.
“I gotta agree with Uce on that one. Nicki ass crazy as hell. One minute she love you, the next minute she pulling a Left Eye and burning your shit.” That emits a chuckle from him. His cousin's sneaker collection being burned in the backyard that one year was pretty funny.
“Look, that was during a rough patch. That’s all.”
“Damn bruh, ya’ll must got a whole goddamn quilt then, cause your relationship been nothing but rough patches since we was in high school.”
“So what, you and Naomi never have no issues, huh?” Jey lives up to his hotheaded reputation, jumping into defensive mode. “Ya’ll just got the perfect marriage, right?”
“Of course we got issues, man, but never to the point where she turned into a lil arsonist!”
Completely disinterested in hearing dumb and dumber argue, Roman grabs his phone and shoots out a text.
Roman: You almost ready?
Solana’s reply comes in less than five minutes later.
Solana: Just about…..is Dulce by you?
Roman: Yeah. Sleeping….as always.
Solana: Lol….sorry about that, I meant to grab her before we got started.
Roman: It’s fine.
Roman: I need to talk to you before you leave.
He’s not surprised by the longer time it takes for her to reply. He can imagine she’s reading too much into his text.
Solana: Okay....I can come now?
Solana: I just have to put my shoes on….
Roman: I’ll come to you.
Roman knows better than to ask the bumbling idiots to watch Dulce. Their attention span when they get this heated is almost non-existent, so he opts to just take her upstairs with him, figuring he can deposit her in her bed in Solana’s room and that’ll be it for the night.
One down.
Two more to get rid of.
Roman is standing outside of Solana’s door ready to knock when it’s ripped open, and he’s met with an instantly smiling Naomi.
She’s smiling at the damn dog, of course.
“There you are, Dulce.” Roman has no issue whatsoever with letting her take the puppy, talking to it in that weird ass baby voice everyone seems to use around Dulce. He doesn’t get it, but it’s not something he desires to try to get anyway. Naomi calls out over her shoulder, “I’m gonna take her out to pee.”
Bayley shouts from inside the room, “I’ll come with you.”
Roman also has zero issues with that as well. He wants to be alone with Solana before she heads out.
Naomi is heading to the steps when Bayley walks past him, throwing out a rushed, “tell her she looks nice.”
That’s a given, but he gives her a nod, easily stepping in and closing the door behind him. He looks around the room, eyes settling on the connected bathroom where the door is suddenly swung open.
“Guys, are you sure I should wear—” Solana stops when she sees that Bayley and Naomi are no longer present, just him. “Oh, sorry, I thought—never mind.”
Roman would call her out on her apologies, both in the text and just now, but his attention is on something entirely different.
Solana is fucking stunning.
Her dress is orange, thin sleeved and hugs her in a way that makes his jaw clench and dick stiffen. It’s more low cut in the front than he knows she’s probably comfortable with, but if anything, it accentuates just how fucking nice her chest is. There’s a slight split on the side of said dress that shows off her thighs, thick and soft to the touch, he’d imagine. She also has her hair down, something he hasn’t seen in some time, makeup that covers the scar, and lips painted in a teasing red.
Roman has to catch himself because for a brief second, he’s tempted to completely change his mind. She looks too good to leave the house, especially without him present because there’s not a single doubt in his mind that she’ll turn heads.
She always does.
Finally, he’s able to get words to leave his mouth that aren’t as filthy as the thoughts he’s trying to keep locked in the back of his mind. “Jesus, you look amazing.”
Roman has noticed an increasingly difficult time in restraining himself around Solana, not in the sense where he’d completely ignore her trauma and try to touch her in a way that would trigger her. Never that. More so in the way he fantasizes about her in that way, dreams of having her in that way, solely because of his growing physical attraction.
Granted, it’s always been there.
Anyone could see her beauty even in how she would dress down and try to hide her figure, but now that Naomi and Bayley have been encouraging her to be less conservative in her appearance, it’s increased that difficulty exponentially.
“Thank you.” The makeup on Solana’s cheeks helps to mask her growing blush at Roman’s unabashed compliment. She suddenly looks down, nervously running her hand down the dress. “Is it….is it too much?”
Not at all. He might not want anyone else looking at her, but Roman could see her dress like this everyday and never grow tired. Still, his approval isn’t needed nor should she ever look for it. “Do you think it is?”
“I always think it’s too much.” It’s an honest answer, one that’s followed up with a caveat he’s surprised but pleased to hear. “But….but, I do like it.”
“Then that’s all that matters.”
Solana’s smile does something to him. She looks even more beautiful when she’s smiling. “Look….” Roman steps closer to her, trying to ignore her perfume, sweet and soft, a dangerous combination that matches her perfectly. “You need anything tonight, you call or text me, alright?”
She nods and asks. “What about Solo? Isn’t—isn’t that his job?”
It’s not a conscious in as much it is a unconscious thing when he steps even closer to her, moving his hand to the small of her back. Roman gently tugs her toward him, and to his surprise, she doesn’t tense under his touch. “You’re my wife, Solana. My job is always to protect you. He just guards you when I can’t.”
She looks like she’s trying to memorize this piece of information, storing it for future use as necessary knowledge. “Do—do you want to come with us?” Solana’s hand resting on his chest is as surprising as her question. “I could talk to Bayley.”
Roman has never been a social person. To say he hates most people isn’t necessarily an exaggeration. So, the thought of being around a bunch of people he doesn’t know or like outside of Solana and maybe Bayley—she’s not entirely awful—is not appealing as well. That doesn’t stop him, however, from considering the question at hand.
He’s tempted to ask her if she wants him to come, because Roman can find it in himself to withstand socialization for a couple hours.
He’ll do it for her.
But, there’s another part of him, a larger part of him that thinks she needs to do this on her own. That she needs to establish a life and something for herself that doesn’t include him. It’ll be good for her.
“No.” Is his final answer, delivered much gentler than if she was literally anyone else. Roman reaches and plays with a piece of her hair. “Not my scene. Too many people.” Not to mention that his presence would draw too much attention, potentially not good attention. He won’t do that to her. Won’t’ risk ruining her night. “Go. Have a good time.” Again, for good measure, he reminds, “but I mean it. Something is wrong. You call me.”
She nods, and he readies to remind her of his need for words when she answers, “okay.” She then adds on, “I already gave Dulce dinner, so she should mostly sleep, but if you could take her outside every so often….”
“I got it.” He’d much rather sacrifice the couple minutes it takes to bring her outside than risk her shitting or pissing somewhere in his house. Granted, he has to give credit where credit is due. She’s doing great with her potty training. Solana takes great care of her, but that’s not surprising. It’s obvious how much she loves the puppy. “You should be back by midnight, though.”
It’s more a strong suggestion than a demand. Solana is a grown woman. He’s not going to dictate what she does and doesn’t do. She’s had enough of that in her life. He had to give his approval for her to go with Bayley because of safety issues, but this, he wants to leave up to her as long as she understands the later she’s out, the riskier things can get.
After a certain time, only bad or not so great things can happen.
“Of course.” She seems to understand this clearly, but he’d also bet that’s her preference to be back earlier than later. Solana grabs her purse and walks towards the door, having to pass him in the process. Roman catches her, arm around her waist.
She looks up, curious, and he makes note of how she again doesn’t tense under his touch. That’s happening less and less, it seems.
He likes that.
“Text me when you get there.”
She smiles, and Roman suddenly feels a layer of his irritation with his cousins melt away. “I will.” Solana gives him one more glance before walking out the room.
Roman scratches his beard, a part of him wondering if he made the right decision to let her go alone. Granted, he knows he would have never even initially agreed if he didn’t trust Bayley and Naomi’s abilities.
They’d defend Solana as ruthlessly and violently as any of his best men.
That helps to chip away some of his second guessing along with the fact that this is something she clearly wants, and he wants to give her that. Give her anything he can that makes her happy.
She deserves that much.
Granted, that temporary peace is short-lived with the shout from one of his cousins who are apparently still present.
“Ayo, Big Dog, did you change the WiFi password again!”
________
Roman needs a new house.
Maybe have Solana let him know what she likes as far as interior designing goes and have something built with an impenetrable wall around it.
That seems to be the only thing that will keep his annoying ass twin cousins from being at his place so much.
Roman just knew that when the ladies left, they’d leave too. But no, that’s too good to be true, because they’ve been gone almost an hour, and their asses are still here.
Even Dulce is sleeping peacefully like the unemployed bum that she is in her bed kept in the living room.
And as always with them, they’ve been talking damn near the whole hour. One would think Roman straight up ignoring them as he works on his laptop would be a clear sign they need to go the hell home, but that would be too much like right.
He either needs an Excedrin or for his cousins to leave, the latter being preferred most. It’s especially needed when they seem to be watching whatever dumb ass Tok or Reel video over and over again.
“Wait. I know that song,” Jey announces, face scrunched up as he tries to recall the name. All Roman knows is that it’s in Spanish and repetitive as hell on top of being played on repeat. Annoying as hell too. “That lil freak from Miami I used to mess with used to have this shit playing at her crib all the time.”
Jimmy sucks his teeth, asking. “What happened to her?”
“Man, she moved.” Jey shrugs. “She went to go be a freak in Cali.”
Finally, Roman snaps. “Would ya’ll use some damn headphones or something?”
Jimmy is the first to speak. “You might want to watch this, Uce.”
“I don’t care.”
Jey slaps Jimmy on the arm, knowing how to get his cousin’s attention. “Yeah, why would he want to see a video of Solana?”
At that, Roman lifts his gaze.
Jimmy smirks knowingly. “Naomi sent some videos. Check your phone.”
That would explain it. Why Roman was out of the loop. It wasn’t from Solana.
He’d selected a specific text and ringtone notification for her, so he wouldn’t be unnecessarily checking his phone. Hence why he hasn’t checked it since she text that they’d made it to the restaurant.
Opening up the thread that has himself, Naomi, and the twins, he sees the set of messages and videos.
Naomi: Having a blast! Solana especially. I kinda feel like the odd one out cause clearly I don’t know none of these dances 😩 I kinda got the Bachata one, but Merengue and Punta are killing me.
Naomi: Bay and Solana keep trying to teach me, but it’s not going well lmao
Roman watches them all. Every video shows Solana smiling and laughing as she dances with Bayley and Naomi. One of the videos shows her and Bayley trying to instruct Naomi who seems to be failing miserably at learning what he’d guess are traditional Hispanic dances. There’s even a clip of her trying to help a little girl learn whatever dance they’re doing, and she looks just as patient as he’s seen her with the kids she reads to at the library.
She looks fucking gorgeous and happy.
He likes that for her. After everything she’s been through, she deserves all of the happiness.
But, it’s in watching the last video with the song that he kept hearing on loop from his cousin’s phone that he understands why they have it on repeat.
It’s a different kind of dance Bayley and Solana do together along with other women he doesn’t know or give two fucks about. What he gives a fuck about and focuses in entirely on is the way Solana’s hips and ass move, rhythmically, teasingly, drawing out an uncomfortable tightening in his pants.
Fuck.
Roman does his best to push his erotic thoughts away, still trying to figure out how to balance his sexual desire for Solana with the knowledge of her sexual trauma. It almost feels wrong, to feel and want her in that way when he knows how traumatizing that subject is for her. It doesn’t stop the desire though.
“Damn, I knew it had to move, just not like that.”
“Like water.”
It’s probably a combination of his pent up usual, general and sexual frustration, but the dangerously slow way Roman lifts his head and equally slow way he sets his murderous gaze on his cousins is all they need to see to know they’ve gone too far.
And they know it.
Jimmy is instantly on damage control. “I meant—Bayley—you know, cause she—she’s also thick.”
Jey coughs awkwardly, hitting Jimmy on the arm. “I think, uh, we should—we should head out.” And Roman is just as slowly rising from the sofa when the twins literally almost trip over their feet and make a mad dash for the door.
It takes a couple minutes for him to calm down, and he too suddenly finds himself watching said video, casually commenting to Dulce, “about time they fucking left.”
Dulce barks in agreement.
________
Solana laughs along with Bayley and Naomi as they plop down in their seats after an almost four minute song of full out merengue. All are reaching for their respective drinks as Bayley playfully nudges Solana.
“Aren’t you glad you came?”
Just then, Juanita Escobar walks over, Bayley’s mother who carries the same dimple and friendly disposition. She places her hand on Solana’s back, reminding in Spanish, “you must come back and see us again!”
Solana smiles, agreeing, “I will.” She then looks over at Bayley. “If that’s okay?”
Bayley waves her off. “Are you kidding? With how soft and girly you are, you can come be my replacement any time”
Juanita glares at her youngest, muttering to Solana, “maybe you can rub off on my Bay, hmm? Never wanted to do girl stuff. Always wanted to fight with the boys.”
Bayley chugs back some of her drink. “Hell yeah.”
Solana thinks she’d prefer the fighting too. Maybe then she could have defended herself better. Defended her mom even.
Juanita shakes her head, looking at Solana. “Yes, come again, child. You look so much like someone, but I can’t put my hand on it. I’m sure my husband would know. He knows everyone.”
That doesn't necessarily make Solana want to come back, meeting someone, a man specifically. However, if he’s anything like Bayley or Juanita, maybe…maybe it won’t be so bad.
And maybe…maybe she could ask Roman to come with her. That’d make her feel moderately to significantly better. Safer, even.
Juanita is soon pulled away from the table by a customer at the same moment Solana’s phone rings.
Roman: You good?
Solana: Yes.
She bites down on her lip, contemplating if she should hit send on her message. It feels like a risky thing to say, but it’s also how she feels.
And he’s always telling her to be honest with him.
So she is.
Solana: Kinda wish you would have came.
Her fingers nervously tap against the table as she wait for his reply that ends up coming almost immediately.
Roman: That’s your world. Not mine.
Roman: Do you not feel safe?
Solana: No, not that. I guess…...Nvm.
Roman: Tell me.
Again, more hesitation, and she’s not entirely sure where this desire to be honest and almost vulnerable with him comes from, but she does her best not to push it away, almost welcoming the slight discomfort that comes with sending such a risky text.
Solana: Idk, I feel better when you’re around.
He doesn’t reply after that.
Bayley and Naomi share a knowing expression, having watched Solana quietly for the past few minutes. Naomi ends up being the one to lead the conversation. “So how are things going with Roman?”
The question takes her off guard, Solana trying her best to think just how to handle said question.
Roman no longer confuses her. Not nearly as much as her feelings about him confuse her.
She wasn’t lying. She does feel better when she’s around him. And it’s not even that she feels unsafe currently. It’s just that he makes her feel safe in general. That’s such a foreign concept. One she hasn’t experienced in such a long time.
If ever.
Because the truth of the matter is that while Solana felt an indescribable amount of happiness with her mother, there was never really safety. Not with her father’s wrath always waiting around the corner.
So while this is new and unfamiliar, it’s also nice, and she finds herself enjoying his presence. She likes being around him beyond the safety aspect. The way he talks to and with her, like he genuinely enjoys their conversations. When he meets her for work and asks how her day was or finds her in the house to see how her day was, it makes her feel like he actually cares about what she has to say.
Like he actually cares about her.
It’s such a stark contrast of how she sees him interact with others. Always on edge, it seems.
He’s never made her feel that way though. Maybe at the beginning, but that’s starting to feel less like anything he’s done and more like her own trauma.
Trauma….
That’s also been an interesting experience. For the past few weeks, she’s worked out of The Courage to Heal, reading every page as instructed. And it’s been….an emotional time, to say the least. Definitely tears. A lot of them. Mostly shed in the middle of the night when she can’t sleep or on the bathroom floor as she sits against the tub, reading and writing, Dulce right beside her, offering that unspoken emotional support.
It’s been therapeutic and challenging and awful having to confront her demons but also freeing in a strange sort of way. Especially the poems. The words of other victims who express so eloquently and hauntingly beautifully what she still cannot.
One of the things she’s really latched onto and tries to remind herself of is that there are different kinds of touch. Because of the assault, her brain has naturally associated any kind of touch as dangerous, which isn’t always true. Especially in the past few months.
So, there’s been a conscious and active effort to remind herself when Naomi and Bayley hug her or playfully bump her, that it’s safe. That she’s safe.
Especially….especially with Roman.
Especially with how touch between them has seemed to also increase over the past couple weeks. Or maybe less increase in levels and more in frequency. She’ll find his hand on the small of her back, or him taking her hand in his, and sometimes, if they’re close enough, Solana also finds herself reaching for him, for his hand, her hand on his chest.
It’s all so innocent in presentation but something much deeper for her. A level of comfort she’s developed with him that she never had in any prior relationship.
She likes it.
She likes him.
“Solana.”
Jumping at being pulled from her inner dialogue, Solana remembers the initial question being posed.
She clears her throat, finally answering, “umm….good. It’s—it’s good.”
“He’s not being an ass to you, is he?” She asks, almost protectively. “I mean outside of the natural ass that he always is.”
Immediately, Solana is shaking her head, almost feeling a duty to defend him. “No. No. He–he would never. He’s….always nice to me.”
Bayley nearly spits out her drink. “Nice?” She coughs a bit, also shaking her head. “Are we still talking about Roman here? Roman Reigns? That man has never been nice a day in his life.”
Naomi shrugs. “I mean, she has a point. I don’t think I’ve seen him be cruel to her.”
Cruel….Solana also could never find it in her to use that word to describe Roman’s disposition towards her. Maybe others, but never her.
Bayley sits on Naomi’s point, suddenly sharing to the table, “you know what, now that you mention it, when I went to go ask him if I could invite you tonight, he was ready to bite my head off for bothering him. But, the minute I said it had something to do with you, he was all ears. Like an instant switch.”
Solana is also all ears, slightly intrigued. “Really?” Doubt and insecurity creeps in as she weakly suggests, “he was probably like that with Samantha too.”
At that, Bayley and Naomi laugh aloud, Naomi nearly in tears.
“Now that is funny. Solana, Roman don’t give a fuck about that girl. Not outside of sex.”
Solana must look unconvinced, so Bayley points out, “think about it. She’s been around for years, and it’s not her he took down the aisle, so…..” She then adds, “arranged marriage or not.”
The girls bringing up their points takes Solana back to her run-in with Samantha in the bathroom and Nia’s jaw-dropping information.
An idea appears, and Solana is instantly torn on whether to pursue or pop it. Something tells her it’s a bad idea, that she should take his information to the grave, but there’s also that side that feels like she can trust Bayley and Naomi to keep it between the three of them.
Sitting forward, Solana decides to take a risk. “Can I—can I tell you guys something?” Nervously, she stipulates, “but it has to stay between us.”
They look expectedly worried. “Solana, if it has something to do with your safety—”
“No, no that.” Solana almost feels confident enough to say that she’d go to Roman if that was the case. She trusts that she could talk to him if it was something like that.
“Of course, then.”
“Solana, you can tell us anything.”
And for some reason, she knows this to be true. It’s why she battles against her trepidation to open up. “It’s—ummm. I….I found out that when….when Roman was…..having sex with Samantha, he….” There’s a pause caused by the discomfort of such a discussion, but Solana manages to push through. “He said my name.”
Both Bayley and Naomi wear shocked expressions, the former of the two whispering harshly, “holy shit, what?”
Bayley then asks, “wait, how do you know?”
“Nia told me.” Solana has zero desire to wholly revisit that night in the bathroom with Samantha, so she only provides the important part. “She said that Samantha told her friend, I guess. T something?”
“Tiffy.” Bayley rolls her eyes. “Makes sense. That girl can’t hold water.”
“I don’t get it then. He obviously was imagining it was you and not Samantha, so why go fuck her and not you?”
Naomi’s question makes all the sense, but Solana doesn’t really know how to tackle it. This conversation is already difficult enough for her.
But her face must give it away, Bayley seemingly putting two and two together.
“You two haven’t slept together…..have you?” Solana simply shakes her head, unable to verbally confirm and slightly mortified that it’s reached this level of detail.
Solana is certain they must have a million thoughts floating around their head, starting with the how and why. That part…..that part she doesn’t know if she is ready to discuss.
An ironic thing considering she’s just started the chapter in her workbook on sharing her story with trusted people.
The irony.
But instead of invasive questions that heighten her anxiety, Naomi places a comforting hand on her arm.
“Look, I’ve known Roman my whole life, and the guy has been a dick the entire time. He would never hurt a woman, I know that, but he’s also never given a fuck about any of them either. So for him to be the way he is with you when you two haven’t even had sex……there’s something there, Solana.”
“I agree,” Bayley cosigns, saying what Solana has struggled to admit even to herself. “I think he really does like you. In his own Roman sort of way.”
Solana can’t deny the fact that it’s getting increasingly difficult to push away that possibility, even if she still can’t understand the why.
Just what has she done to deserve him liking her?
Maybe it’s not like. Maybe he just tolerates her better than he does others for some reason. Whatever it is, she can’t negate the fact that it must mean something if Naomi, who’s known him her whole life, believes that something is there.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Solana just needs to get away. Just for a couple minutes. This conversation took a turn she wasn’t expecting, and she needs to settle her emotions.
Bayley seems cautious. “Want me to come with you?”
“No.” The rejection is paired with a kind smile. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
And before she can get any pushback, Solana makes her way through the dancing crowd and to the back restroom that she’s grateful to see is vacant. Closing and locking the bathroom door, she goes straight for the mirror.
Despite the unexpected amount of dancing and slight sweat, she still looks relatively the same.
The same….
Same.
Even with the makeup and tight little dress, she’s still the same person. She’ll go home tonight, take off the makeup and remove the dress to find the same damaged, scarred girl who can never have something like what Jimmy and Naomi have.
Even if Roman does like her, it won’t last.
She can’t please him.
She could never make Roman happy, could never truly satisfy him, satisfy his needs.
She’s too broken for that.
It brings tears to her eyes.
Unable to withstand the sight of herself, Solana grabs a couple napkins to blow away her tears, tosses them out and heads out the bathroom. Instead of heading back to the table, Solana makes a beeline for the bar.
She’s only had white wine, but white wine isn’t enough. She recognizes where her emotions are taking her, and it’s nowhere good.
Solana refuses to ruin this night for Bayley and Naomi.
The bartender is a young girl, pretty, early to mid twenties. She asks in a friendly, deeply accented voice, “what can I get you?”
Solana is naive to this, to the great array of alcoholic options that litter the counter before her, so she answers the best way she can. Thinking back to the few events she’d be forced to attend with her father and brother, the drinks she always heard people order before getting drunk.
“Vodka and Gin, p—please.”
________
Meanwhile, Bayley and Naomi sit at the table still partially stuck on this unexpected news. But also not entirely surprising. With how sittish Solana can be at times, they have a good, albeit depressing guess as to why sex hasn’t happened between them.
It does bring up a valid question though.
“Wasn’t the whole marriage for the purposes of giving Roman an heir? How is that—”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Naomi murmurs. “But, I think we both know it’s obvious Solana has some trauma. Touch is clearly hard for her.”
“I know.” Bayley frowns. “I guess I’m just surprised Roman of all people has been so….patient with her.”
“You and me too.” Naomi blows out a breath before again reiterating what she said to Solana. “He must really like her.”
“It’s just hard to tell with him. He’s so damn stoic, but….I think you’re right. I think she likes him too. She’s just…..scared.” Fear is also something Solana deeply struggles with, though Bayley and Naomi both can recognize the progress she’s making towards overcoming those fears.
With a gasp, Naomi grabs her phone, directing Bayley. “Get your phone.”
Bay is confused but follows suit just as Naomi says, “I know who may know.”
Less than a minute later, Bayley’s phone dings with a text notification from a new group she’s in that includes herself, Naomi, Jimmy, and Jey.
Naomi: Sooooo, Bay and I were just talking, and between the four of us, how do you think Roman feels about Solana?
Bayley: And please be honest.
Bayley quickly ensures. “We’re not going to tell them what Solana said, right?”
“Hell no. We could never betray her trust like that.” Bayley is relieved but also not surprised.
Naomi values loyalty just as much as she does.
Jey: Man, I think he really like ole’ girl. Bruh got her a dog, seems to drop whatever he doing when she needs something, and I don’t think I ever heard him say nothing bad about her.
Jimmy: He was definitely annoyed at first when Soso had her lil breakdown at the Warehouse, but that didn’t last long at all.
Bayley: Plus Roman is always annoyed with something or someone.
Naomi: Except her 👀
Jey: Why ya’ll ask?
Naomi: We think Solana really likes him too but is scared to push on it because of her past and just don’t want to encourage her to give it a chance if he’s just gonna hurt her. Ya’ll know how Roman is.
Bayley: A certified ASSHOLE. And a hoe.
Bayley: But, it seems like that’s not the case with her.
Jimmy: I would say he definitely likes her too.
Jey: I mean they are married so….
Naomi: It was arranged. That doesn’t count.
Bayley: Do we know if he’s still fucking around? Primarily with Samantha since she’s been his go-to the past couple years?
Jimmy: I don’t think so. Matter of fact, I guess she said some smart shit to Soso in the bathroom on NoC and Big Dog wasn’t having it.
Jey: He’s apparently planning to pay her a lil visit….with Nia.
Naomi: Oh my god, is he finally gonna let Nia kill her?
Jimmy: Naw, just fuck her up real good, I think.
Naomi: Damn.
Bayley: That’s wild for him to cut her off like that after all this time. Def sounds like he likes Solana to me too…..
Jey: Ya’ll really think he about to admit that shit though?
Naomi: No more than she is. He’s stubborn, and she’s so insecure.
Jimmy: Ya’ll thinking what I’m thinking? 👀
*Jimmy changed the group chat name to Operation RoSo*
Naomi: Bae, what is this damn title?
Jimmy: It’s our latest covert operation. We gotta get Roman and Soso to admit they like each other!
Jey: And just how the hell is we supposed to do that? Like Bay said, Uce is an ass sometimes.
Bayley: All the time unless you’re Solana….
Naomi: I mean, not to be vain, but if you look like Roman, you can kinda get away with being an ass. To some extent.
Bayley: You’re not wrong. He is gorgeous. 😮💨
Jimmy: He alright, I guess. His ears kinda big.
Naomi: Bae, I love you, but let’s not lie. Your cousin is an asshole, yes, but he’s also fine as hell.
Bayley: That’s not the only thing said to be big…..
Naomi: Girl….
Bayley: They can’t all be lying.
Jey: ANYWAYS!
Jey: What if they’re coming together at they own pace and we should just leave shit alone?
Jimmy: 😐
Jimmy: That’s about the dumbest fucking thing I done heard all day. What next you gon say, huh? That they just magically gon fall in love on their own too? No! They clearly need our help!
Naomi: Maybe less help and more a shove in the right direction?
Bayley: A gentle push!
Naomi: Yes!
Jey: All I know is if shit backfires, I’m not taking the heat for none of ya’ll asses. Ya’ll gon have to deal with Big Dog.
Jimmy: Then we’ll just put Solana in front of us. He can’t hurt us then!
Jimmy: See…..I’m smart with this shit. That’s why Imma be the brains of this operation.
________
“What do you mean she’s drunk?”
Roman’s night suddenly went from uneventful and quiet, his preference, to unexpected and infuriating, all with a walk from upstairs to downstairs where he finds Solana awkwardly standing in the living room. Bayley and Naomi wait at the bottom of the steps with nervous expressions.
Good.
They should be scared shitless, because one glance at Solana, the gloss over her eyes, and he can tell she’s all but wasted.
“You were supposed to be watching her.” Roman is fucking irritated. He knew it was a bad idea to leave these two in charge of Solana.
Bayley, however, seems unbothered by his anger. “She’s not a child, Roman. Were we supposed to stop her from drinking too? We had no idea she asked for something stronger.”
It’s an excuse, and Roman doesn’t do excuses. “What happened?”
Naomi answers this time around. “We don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” One. They’re lying, and Roman hates liars. Two. They’re lying, and Roman has literally killed people for less. Three. They’re lying, and he wants to know why. “You’ve both got less than a minute to give me the truth—”
“Look, we talked about some things, and we promised to keep it between the three of us, so I’m not telling you what exactly it was, but I can tell you she’s not in danger.” Bayley is smart. She must know that he’d literally torture the information out of her if it had anything to do with Solana’s safety.
“It was just…some stuff about her past. I think it may have been too much, and she decided to get drunk to not think about it.” Naomi’s suggestion makes sense and pans out, but Roman can’t stop thinking about just what she shared with them.
Was it the rape? But why? He remembers her terror in the locker room that day, the fear and pain in her eyes and voice as she pleaded with him to not make her talk about it. It doesn’t make sense why she would suddenly share it.
Even with how close she seems to them.
“Just leave.”
Roman will deal with them later. Right now, his priority is getting Solana settled.
They seem to know better than to push his patience, asking that he at least keep them updated on how she’s doing in the morning.
He neither agrees or disagrees. It’ll heavily depend on how fucked up Solana is.
Once they’re gone, Roman walks into the living room to find her laid on the sofa, eyes glazed over from her drunkenness but that same beautiful smile on her just as beautiful face.
“Solana.” She’s so gone that it makes him wonder even more again just how upset she must have been. “I need to get you to bed.”
He needs sleep too, feeling the length and weight of the day starting to take a toll.
She’s protesting almost right away. “I’m not t–tired.”
“Maybe not, but you will be tomorrow.” Roman knows she’s in for one hell of a hangover.
“I don’t—I don’t want to sleep.” She’s almost pouting, brows caved together as she stumbles through more words. Solana suddenly stands up, and he naturally moves closer to her, noticing the almost sway she does onto the floor. “I just—have bad dreams and—and you’re just—just gonna leave once I sleep anyw—way.”
“What do you mean by that?” He asks. Getting answers from a drunk person usually isn’t the best or smartest thing in the world, but something tells Roman that Solana is the type of drunk person who ends up spilling secrets. And he’s certain there’s a lot she’s probably still keeping in.
She then issues an unexpected accusation. “You—you’re—you’re gonna go be with Samantha—that’s who you want.”
Roman finds her question slightly ironic considering he’s been letting Samantha think she got away with whatever disrespectful shit she said to Solana on the Night of Champions. He’s letting her think she’s safe and waiting for the right moment to set her ass straight, Nia tagging along to deliver the physical message he can’t.
“Af–after all.” Solana continues, surprising him with her openness that’s most definitely fueled by her inebriation. “Why—why would you want me?” She points to herself, voice taking on a softer, vulnerable tone. “Why—why would anyone want me?”
He’s silent for a good minute, sitting on such a heavy question. “Is that really what you think?” It’s asked in a low voice, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s more him thinking aloud or if he genuinely wants to know if that is how she really views herself.
She shakes her head, nodding in a way that further signifies how drunk she is. “It’s like you said, I’m mentally u–unstable.”
For a second, Roman’s confused, but he quickly thinks back to their wedding night, to his hurtful words to her. Words he’d give anything to take back now.
With an almost frown, he acknowledges his fault. “I was wrong to say that to you, Solana. You are not that.” Truthfully, with all she’s been through, even if she was, he couldn’t fault her.
With a family like hers, she never had a fucking chance.
Solana seems almost confused by his apology, taking him back with the next thing that leaves her mouth. “Is it—is it true you—you said my name when you were with S—samantha?”
He definitely wasn’t expecting that, has no idea how she even knows that. Is that what Samantha told her in the bathroom? Why would she? It does nothing to make her look good. Regardless, drunk or not, Roman sticks with his word that he won’t lie to her.
“Yes.”
Even drunk, he can tell how shocked she is by his admission. Shaking her head, she says either to herself or him—he can’t really tell. “I—I don’t get it.” Before he can say anything else, she starts on this train of self-hatred. “She’s pretty and—and—skinny and—she’s not—broken like me.”
That does something to him, Roman moving closer to bring one hand to the small of her back and the other to her face. “You’re not broken, Solana.”
“Yes–yes, I am. You don’t—you don’t know what—what happened to me.” Her bottom lip trembles as she shakes her head, hands on his chest. “I can’t—I can’t do what—what she does—can’t—give you t–that.”
He shifts his hand to the back of her head, forcing her blurry gaze to stay on him. “Baby….” It tears him the fuck up hearing her acknowledge the lingering trauma he’s certain she’ll always carry to some extent, but even more to hear how lowly she really thinks of herself. “I don’t—”
“I can’t—I can’t because—” Her voice cracks, her eyes focused everywhere but him as she almost comes to this heartbreaking realization that her drunkenness briefly helped her escape these thoughts that have now returned. “—b–because they r–raped me, and now I don’t—I don’t know how—how to be with anyone.” She gasps and sniffles, shaking her head. “I should—should have f–fought h-harder—”
“Don’t you ever fucking say that, you hear me?” Roman’s voice somehow contains all the conviction yet gentleness he can muster. Hearing her even think that makes him feel something he can’t fully describe. It’s heavy as fuck though. “You were a child, Solana. It wasn’t your fault.”
“You were a kid.” He has to say it again, because that’s the hardest part in all of this, knowing how young she was. “You should have been protected, and you weren’t, and I’m going to make sure every son of a bitch involved in what happened to you pays for that shit. I promise you that. The same way that I promise with my life, I’ll never let anyone ever hurt you again.”
She’s clearly taken back by his words, by his vow. “I don’t—I don’t—understand w–why? Why—why would you do that?”
Roman isn’t sure he has an answer for that specifically, but he does have something else he can provide her, a small part of him knowing, hoping maybe, there’s very little from tonight she remembers come tomorrow morning.
“Because someone needs to protect you.” Roman swallows, adding before he even realizes what he’s saying. “Because I don’t want Samantha.” He brushes his thumb over her cheek, intentionally wiping her tears. “I want you.”
And suddenly, it’s so much easier to say it aloud, to voice to her what he still doesn’t entirely understand, why he feels drawn to her in ways he doesn’t understand. There’s a connection almost, a connection of mutual loss that’s formed some sort of bridge Roman is unsure just when he started crossing
She looks more stunned at his admission than anything else he’s ever said to her. Still, she seems to try to discredit him. “But—but she—”
“She’s not you.” His voice unintentionally softens. “No one’s like you.”
Selfishly, he hopes she doesn’t remember much or any of this conversation, less painful for her, more time for him to figure out what it is about this woman that he feels so deeply drawn to.
Again, she tries to downplay her worth. “I can’t—I can’t—give you what you need.”
And somehow he knows exactly what she means. What she’s referring to.
“I don’t need that from you.” Truth be told, he doesn’t want to need anything from her. Needing anything in general has never been his thing. He just knows that, for some reason, he wants her around.
He likes having her around him.
She’s blinking again and places her hand against her head, sharing, “my h–head hurts.” It’s not an intentional deflection, he’s certain, but it’s appreciated.
This is a much deeper conversation than he anticipated having tonight.
“You need to get to bed. The sooner you can start sleeping this off, the better.” He eyes her skeptically, asking, “can you walk?”
He should have already known the answer, because the minute she tries to pull away from him to walk, she sways almost immediately, Roman going right back to holding her. “Come here.” He expects her to tense up as he moves to lift her up bridal style, but she doesn’t. She just continues to look confused, clearly overwhelmed with all of her emotions.
Roman doesn’t say anything as he carries her up the stairs and doesn’t think twice about taking her to his room instead of hers.
He needs to monitor her tonight, and that’s easier done with her in his room.
She looks around still confused but doesn’t say anything as Roman lowers her down on the edge of his bed. Naturally, he’s on one knee before her.
“I’m gonna take these off.” He refers to her heels which could largely be a contributing factor for her to inability to walk. She nods, and he quickly unstraps and tosses the heels to the side. “Do you want to change?”
She nods and then adds, “I don’t have—my clothes….”
Roman is at his dresser, pulling out a shirt that he reaches to her. “You can wear this for tonight.”
She accepts it from him, turning to walk to the bathroom, Roman relieved to see the removal of her heels helps her to at least make it without falling.
While she’s changing, he heads back downstairs to get Dulce.
He knows she’s used to sleeping with Solana and will probably throw a fit or spend the night crying if that doesn’t happen, so a small sacrifice is made as he also brings up Dulce’s bed from the living room and places it on the side of his bed.
One night of her sleeping in his room won’t kill him.
It’s then that Solana walks out the bathroom, changed out of her dress and her face free from the makeup.
“I washed my face….hope that was o–okay.”
“It’s fine, Solana.” Roman is half expecting to have to instruct her to lay down, but she again stays with the theme of surprises tonight and walks over to the bed, pulling back the covers and climbing in.
He’s again ready to explain that he’ll be in the guest room across the hall but will be available if she needs anything. He’ll still be checking in on her occasionally, regardless.
But, before he can explain as such, she asks in the softest, most vulnerable voice, “will you lay with me?”
It’s an extremely unexpected question with an easy answer.
Roman’s answer is to move into the bed with her, half expecting her to freak out in one way or another. This close proximity is so unlike her, a complete contrast to what she’s usually comfortable with.
However, what he doesn’t expect is the way Solana moves her body close against his, pressing herself into his side, arm over his stomach and head on his chest.
In a switching of roles, Roman is the one to initially tense. This is more physical contact than they’ve ever had, and there’s not a doubt in his mind that if not for the alcohol in her system, she’d have a fucking meltdown touching him this much.
But in her drunken, highly intoxicated state, that’s not an issue. She wants to be close to him, wants to be pressed up against him.
She’s looking for comfort.
And truthfully, he wants it too. Roman likes the feel of her next to him, actually uses his other arm to tug her closer, noticing how she adjusts her head on his chest.
Her hand is planted against his chest, and he starts to tell her to rest, to encourage her to sleep this off. But, she once again beats him to it, asking yet another question.
“Why—why are you doing this?”
To be fair, Roman only answers her truthfully because he’s betting on her being so close to the edge of sleep that the chances of her remembering this rare shred of vulnerability are slim to none.
“Because—because I know what it’s like to not have anyone.” There’s a sense of hesitation and discomfort as he verbalizes what he’s never once openly discussed with anyone. “Because I didn’t just lose my mom when I was ten. I lost my entire family. My parents. My aunt. My uncle. And all of my siblings. I—I was the only one who made it out alive that night, and I spent years not knowing why, why I was left alone.”
Roman doesn’t want sympathy, doesn’t want people feeling fucking sorry for him. He never has. But the way Solana lifts her head to look at him is a look of something else, something that likens understanding and compassion.
The latter of which is almost an unfamiliar concept.
“I didn’t—I’m sorry.” She lays her head back against his chest, moving even closer. She then murmurs into him, almost reassuringly, “you don’t—you don’t have to be alone anymore.”
Roman doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn’t.
He says nothing.
________
Waking up in Roman’s bed wearing only his shirt is the last thing Solana expects along with the fact that the minute her eyes open, she’s hit with instant throbbing of her head.
She winces, confused about so many things as she forces herself to sit up, mind immediately wandering to a single question.
Where is Roman?
Her question is easily answered when she spots the notebook on his nightstand. She reaches for it, squinted eyes reading over his words.
Solana,
I’m sorry I had to leave. I have a meeting with the Elders I, unfortunately, can’t miss. I’ll be back right after.
If not for that, I would have stayed with you.
You most likely won’t remember last night, but you got drunk. Very. You’re gonna wake up with a nasty hangover. Take the Aspirin. It’ll help.
I gave Dulce her breakfast and took her outside. She should be fine.
I also let your job know you’re not coming in today.
Rest.
Roman
There’s so much to process in such a straightforward letter. What did he mean by stay with her? Did—did they sleep in the same bed?
For some reason, that’s not as anxiety inducing as she imagined it would be. She doesn’t know the why or how, but it doesn't bring that heavy weight on her chest.
The drunk part triggers brief memories of the night prior. Bayley and Naomi. The celebration. Dancing. Fun. Happiness.
A switch.
At some point in the night, her mood shifted into something else. Solana remembers asking for a drink, but she doesn’t remember much after that. Glimpses. An almost sympathetic look from Roman. His arms around her. Him holding her.
It makes for a confusing story she doesn��t really have the wherewithal to deal with. She instead reaches over and swallows the Aspirin.
And she goes right back to sleep.
________
Roman finds himself completely bypassing his office, clearing his schedule, and moving his phone’s status to Do Not Disturb.
He’s not in the mood to deal with any of that shit today. At least not for a couple more hours. He needs to make sure Solana is situated first.
Thinking about her resurfaces his earlier level of anger at how the meeting with the Elders ended.
“What of the girl?”
This was the part of the hour meeting that caught his attention the most. Everything else was trivial and, in his opinion, a waste of time. But, it’s when Elder Aleki brings up Solana that Roman’s focus is recentered.
“What about her?”
He’s not stupid. Far from it. Roman knows exactly where this is headed. It was partially expected. What he didn’t expect was the anger that’s already brewing at just how Solana was referred to as ‘the girl.’
Aleki is bold with his questioning, jumping straight to the point. “Is she still not pregnant yet? It’s been almost four months.”
Roman’s jaw clenches, and he finds himself squeezing the armrest of his chair as he does his best to keep his voice somewhat subdued. “I’m aware of how long it’s been.”
Another elder, Sione, decides to join in on this conversation that Roman is about to shut down in less than a minute. “Perhaps she should have another medical evaluation. By one of our doctors—”
“The hell she will.”
Rikishi shoots Roman a warning look, quietly, muttering an equally pleading, “language, Uce.”
Roman straight up ignores him. Rikishi still adheres to those outdated traditions that just because someone has more years on this earth than you that they automatically deserve respect. Fuck that. Roman gives respect when it’s earned, and Aleki and Sione have been on his shit list for years.
He’ll never forgive them for their behavior after the death of his family, their questioning of Roman’s birthright to the throne.
Aleki releases a heavy sigh, and Roman has to restrain himself from not bashing the old man’s head into the table. “All we’re saying is if she is incapable of producing a child to continue the Bloodline, then we have no use for her and should seek to find you a better—”
That’s when Roman has enough. To suggest Solana be examined again. which would no doubt be triggering as fuck for her, is one thing. But, it’s an entirely different thing for them to have the unmitigated gall to suggest he get rid of her.
Over his dead fucking body.
Roman shoots up from the chair. “My wife isn’t going anywhere nor is anyone at this fucking table going to make her do shit.”
Rikishi shoots more than just his subtle warning this time around. “Roman, please—”
Roman’s not trying to hear that shit from him, though. He’s not trying to hear shit from anyone.
“Our marriage is nobody’s fucking business but our own. That includes when she gets pregnant. We’ll share it when we want to.”
Truthfully speaking, this isn’t something Roman has thought much about, an intentional thing. The fact that the marriage was originally and solely arranged so that she could give him an heir is irrelevant to him right now, regardless of what they think.
That’s not a priority.
“You may be the Elders, but I sit at the head of the table.” The Bloodline has always been successful and profitable, but it’s no doubt exceeded any and all records and expectations since Roman became the head. That’s an indisputable fact. “Don’t fucking forget who made this table what it is today.”
The ending of the meeting is still playing in the back of his head like a bad song on repeat. If not for his semi level of respect and acknowledgement of their standing as Elders, he would have put a bullet in their heads the minute that disrespectful shit started leaving their mouths.
In no fucking universe is anyone taking Solana from him. He doesn’t give a flying fuck whatever the original reason was for their marriage. She’s his now, and nothing is changing that.
Roman makes active efforts to calm himself before walking back into the house. After last night, the last thing she needs is to be unintentionally triggered.
He finds her on the sofa, writing in her journal, Dulce right beside her sleeping peacefully without a care in the fucking world. Roman halfway expected her to be out back on the patio, a seemingly favorite spot of hers.
But the sunlight would no doubt exacerbate the remnants of her hangover he’s certain she’s still battling, so it makes sense she’s indoors. It’s when she looks up, noticing his presence that Roman also realizes she’s still only wearing his shirt.
For some strange reason, he likes that. Likes seeing her in his clothes.
“Hey…”
“Hey.” Roman sits on the sofa opposite from her. He takes her in, watching her set her journal to the side and as he notices her hair is pulled up. “How you feeling?”
She shrugs, making a face that suggests some level of discomfort. “My head still kinda hurts, but I guess—that’s to be expected.” He starts to ask her if she’s drunk enough water, recognizing the importance of staying hydrated a night after heavy drinking, but she’s suddenly pleading with him almost. “Please don’t be upset with Bayley and Naomi. It’s not their fault.”
To be fair, he hadn’t thought about them until now. “They were supposed to watch you.”
“They did. I—I got back fine.” She seems almost worried for them, for their safety. He would never actually kill either woman. He’ll just probably never trust them to take Solana out again in life. But no murder would actually happen. Still, it’s the part where Solana says she got back fine that irks him. He does his best to mask that irritation though.
“You weren’t fine last night, Solana.” She was far from it, more emotional than he’s seen her in some time, if ever.
Her shoulders drop, almost in shame. “I don’t—I don’t remember much of it.”
He’s thankful for that. For the both of them. “You were upset.” It’s not a lie nor is it specific. It’s just the truth.
She then asks with almost hesitant curiosity. “W–what did I say?”
Roman shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He doesn’t like being dismissive towards her, doesn’t like being dishonest, something he swore he wouldn’t do. But, she was an emotional wreck last night, and the last thing he wants is for her to go through all of those emotions yet again.
He doesn’t like seeing her upset.
But then she looks at him, studying him almost, a sad, almost tearful chuckle leaving her mouth. He watches as she brings her legs up to her chest and rests her chin against her knees. She asks, volume barely over a whisper, “I told you last night, didn’t I?” Roman realizes it’s less a question and more a heavy realization. “That—that I was raped. Didn’t I?”
It’s a bit of a lose–lose situation. Either he tells her no and risks her feeling bad for sharing something she didn’t have to or he confirms what she already knows and still feels not great.
They’re both shitty options, but he ultimately goes the route of honesty. “Yes.”
“It’s weird. I—” She looks away, eyes shutting for a minute before she unexpectedly explains, “I’ve been—I’ve been working out of this book for people who were…assaulted like me, and I’m–at the part where its recommended I tell at least one person because—because it’s not healthy to keep it to myself.”
Roman knows exactly what book she’s talking about. It was the key that led to him figuring out just what happened to her. That still fucks with him. Still makes him fill with silent rage at her piece of shit family letting that happen to her.
“You’re now the first person I’ve ever told.” Roman hates that even more.. Hates that someone like him is who she ended up breaking her silence with. He wishes it was either Bayley or Naomi. They’re much better at this sort of thing. The feelings thing. “I don’t—I don’t like talking about it.”
“You don’t have to.” He isn’t sure he’d be able to control his anger hearing details, hearing anything about it to be honest, not coming from her. His rage would be intractable.
She nods, almost appreciatively. “That's why sex is—it’s hard for me.” He fully understands that, and a small part of him hates how he tried to initiate that with her on their wedding night. He figured her nerves were because of her naturally anxious personality. Never once did it cross his mind that it was because of something much darker. “And it’s not—it’s not like I don’t think about it sometimes, about being close to someone like that, I do.” This piece does surprise him, but he works hard not to think too much about it right now. He wants to be in this moment with her. “ I—I have. But, every time I try, I just—I get flashbacks, and I can’t.” She ends on an almost whisper, Roman’s stomach tightening as she quickly wipes at a tear.
He doesn’t like seeing her cry.
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Solana.” Not him or anyone else, for that matter.
She doesn’t say anything for a good minute before asking, “what happens now?”
That’s a great fucking question, and he almost has the same towards a lot of things. He’s curious though what she’s specifically referring to. “What do you mean?”
Solana seems almost frightened as she asks, “are you—are you gonna send me back to my father?”
Yeah, he could have never in a million years guessed that. “Why would you ever think I would do that?”
And he suddenly hates asking, hates seeing the way the emotion builds back up. “I’m not—not a virgin, and—” Her eyes close, her grip around her legs tightening. “You….you only married me because—”
“I don’t care about that.” This is his second time today having to face some level of this discussion, but this round is significantly gentler. Roman does his best to illustrate the conviction in his voice while also being mindful of her emotions. “What do you want, Solana?”
He has no idea what she’s going to say, but he does know for a fact he would never send her back to that hellhole. It would be like sending her to her own death.
She seems to really think about his question, think about something he’s certain she’s never had a lot of.
Options.
Finally, after what feels like hours, she answers. “I want to stay here.” Roman’s unsure why he feels a small sense of relief at her answer, like anything other than that would have made him uncomfortable or upset. Solana wets her lips, continuing, “I like—I like living here.” And in an even smaller voice, she adds, “I like being with you.”
He doesn’t say anything, and neither does she. Roman is certain it’s because they’re both trying to process and register what this may mean, what this new piece of information means for them moving forward.
Roman sits forward and motions with his index and middle finger. “Come here.”
He sees it instantly. The initial hesitation, the brief flash of fear, but it’s gone before he can offer reassurance. Solana lowers her legs and walks over to him, Dulce remaining sleeping and unmoving. Not once does Roman remove his gaze from her as he takes her hand, giving a gentle tug to guide her down on the sofa next to him. He slides his arm behind her, holding her body against him, his tattooed forearm across her stomach.
Roman watches the way her eyes close, recognizes that she’s trying to manage her emotions. He sees the little nod she gives herself, as if assuring herself that she’s safe. And he swears he sees her mouth as such.
Mouth the word ‘safe.’
Solana moves her hands to his forearm, as if holding onto him for some sense of comfort.
He does his best to reassure her. “Relax…”And it seems to do something to help her, offering such a simple yet strong form of solace. “I’d never send you back there. Ever.” And that’s a fucking promise. “You’ll stay here. With me.”
“I’m—” Her voice is less emotional than before. It’s still there, but he can tell it's waning with each second that passes, her comfort level growing. “I’m supposed to give you an heir. What if—what if people start—”
“I’ll take care of it.” And he will. He already started with the Elders earlier today, but she doesn’t need to know that.
She angles her head up to look at him. “But—”
Roman brings his hand to her face, gently palming her cheek. “I’ll take care of it.” He moves his thumb over the apple of her cheek and part of her scar. “Alright?”
Solana nods with her acknowledgement but says nothing else as she lays back against him. He notices the absence of tension and discomfort. She’s fully relaxed against him, and Roman acts more out of instinct than anything as he presses lips against her temple for a brief kiss, still mindful of her comfort level. “I’ve got you…”
Everything happening in the past few minutes has been both unexpected and confusing, but there’s nothing confusing about the way Solana suddenly turns her body into him, laying her head on his chest. He watches her eyes close, signifying another layer of fear being peeled back.
He sits there for who knows how long with her, holding her, noticing the slight rise and fall of her body against his, a sign that she’s fallen asleep. He lets her sleep, lets her rest, lets her stay close to him, under him, with him.
Roman thinks back on his question to her about what she wanted. He’s not sure what he would have said if she said she wanted to leave, because the truth of the matter is that Roman’s starting to think that he couldn’t let her go.
That he can’t.
Even if she wanted to leave.
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Jervis Tetch A.K.A The MAD HATTER 🎩🫖
OK So someone sent me an ask on here and unfortunately I can't find where it disappeared to-SO I'M VERY SORRY!
This person asked if I could make a reference sheet of my Hatter and share some headcanons, if I had any. I've never really done this before, or even had many headcanons so please bare with me lol. I didn't go into too much detail, Im not really a writer so I just tried to get the main points through.
Down The Rabbit Hole:
Has paranoid schizophrenia, and often hallucinates, especially when stressed. He mostly sees characters from Alice in Wonderland, seeing the Cheshire cat or “Alice” the most.
When very stressed or feel like hes losing control of a situation, he begins to stutter horribly. His words get jumbled in his mind, and thats when he starts reciting quotes or poems from AIW relevant to the situation hes in. Before he became the Mad Hatter, and became a criminal he stuttered constantly while speaking to anyone.
Jervis controls people by drugging and hypnotizing them, But the strongest form of mind control he has are the masks he puts on his “Guests”.
For goons or regular street thugs he manages to get, he mostly uses cards on them instead of wasting materials to make masks for them. Figuring It would be easier than having Batman break them and forcing him to constantly remake the same ones over and over.
Also its a chance to call his thugs the “Card Guards” which amuses him.
His goons don’t matter much to him, but if he assigns you a specific character, you are highly important to his “Tea Parties” and are at risk of being forced to attend indefinitely.
For his “Tea Party” guest list, he has crafted actual masks for them to wear, in correlation to the Character he assigned to each guest. He does make sure the guests are drugged with his special tea before putting the masks on them. Wouldn’t want to risk having you manage to break free of his control during the party! Or ever.
March Hare=Scarecrow, Dormouse= Riddler, White Rabbit= Ventriloquist, Cheshire Cat= Catwoman, The Dodo= Penguin, Mock Turtle= Mr.Freeze, Queen of Hearts= Poison Ivy, The Walrus= Bane, The Jabberwocky= Batman
He customizes the masks so they even resemble the actual people.
His closest friends are Jonathan Crane, and Edward Nygma, his March Scare and Dorrat.
Jonathan was a psychologist so he knows how to handle Jervis, and can tolerate him for the most part. Edward on the other hand may think Jervis is a useful ally, but he's not nearly as patient with him as Jonathan is. Neither of them like being called by their "nicknames" Jervis gave them.
Jervis fell in love with the woman he had been working with, before he became a criminal, that put everything into motion. Her actual name wasn't Alice, but they both bonded over their fondness for the story, and he started to call her Alice as a fun nickname or inside joke. Though his obsession with her had already begun.
After losing it, and becoming a criminal and kidnapping "Alice" he was defeated by Batman, (Much like how it happened in BTAS). "Alice" fled Gotham after this, but Jervis doesn't know that, and is too far gone to realize that she would leave him. SO he roams the streets of Gotham looking for his beloved "Alice".
OK THAT'S IT! At least these were all I could think of. Obviously my Jervis is heavily based off the Arkham series and BTAS. But I love this little crazy guy.
#jervis tetch#the mad hatter#batman#batman rouges gallery#batman arkham series#batman the animated series#arkhamverse#jonathan crane#edward nygma#oswald cobblepot#arnold wesker#selina kyle#victor freeze#bane#scarecrow#riddler#the penguin#mr. freeze#catwoman#the ventriloquist#pamela isley#poison ivy#alice in wonderland#digital art#fanart#my art#headcanon
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gale & his mother, morena dekarios
i thought it'd be nice to have a place to compile everything i could find about gale's mother, morena dekarios.
the first time you as the player get a vague mention about gale's parents is after saving mirkon, when gale brings up a story about his parents denying him a kitten when he was still a child:
Gale: One time my parents denied me akitten, so I summoned myself a tressym.
if you play a gale origin playthrough, you get a mention of her much earlier from tara, after she joins the camp.
this is a camp dialogue with its variants from act i:
Tara the Tressym: Well, if it isn't my favourite fellow himself. Player: How are things back in Waterdeep? Tara the Tressym: More or less the same - though news of some mad faction calling themselves 'Absolutists' is starting to trickle in. Tara the Tressym: I told your mother not to worry. That if they were anything to worry about, Baldur's Gate would handle things quick-sharp. Keep them from spreading their tendrils north. She still wants to know when she'll see you again, sir. I avoid giving any answers. But she misses you. Player: I miss her too. Tara the Tressym: I'll tell her. With my Cat Flap of Displacement, I can afford the occasional visit. I'd bring you along, if I could. Perhaps some day. - Player: I can't risk putting her in danger. Tara the Tressym: I know that, but she doesn't. She'd keel over if she knew just how you'd tried to manipulate the Weave. Or maybe she'd just say something like, 'My Gale always was one to make the impossible possible.' Oh, but she adores you. - Player: No more guilt trips, Tara. Please. Tara the Tressym: But then whatever will we talk about? Anyhow - I'm keeping my senses pricked for any sign of another item that might be of use to you. Hopefully something will turn up soon.
it's clear from the dialogue that gale's mother worries about him and loves him - adores him, really.
it also becomes clear that she doesn't know what happened to gale and that he nor tara has not told her.
another mention from act i, again from tara:
Tara the Tressym: Please tell me you've at least made inroads when it comes to finding someone to settle down with. Myself and Mrs Dekarios are starting to think you intend to die alone. Player: You've been visiting my mother? Tara the Tressym: Naturally. After you abandoned her, there was only me left to keep her company. She's very good company, though. Ah, the stories we've traded over toast and tea. You're a highly entertaining source of speculation. But speculation only goes so far! Tell me, Mr Dekarios - how have you been?
tara and morena are implied to have tea together regularly enough to trade stories about gale. tara is implied to be a sort of messenger between the two of them, likely after gale's isolation and subsequent abduction by the nautiloid, keeping morena informed, yet without revealing gale's secret and shame.
the devnotes also state that tara loves morena - high praise since other devnotes states that tara hates everyone except gale - and that she talks of her in an affectionate tone.
this is a dialogue in act ii after mystra has tasked gale to use the orb the moment he finds the heart of the absolute:
Tara the Tressym: Promise me, Gale. Promise me you'll find another way. Promise me you'll return home, when this is all over. Player: I can't make that promise, Tara. Tara the Tressym: You're going to kill me. And your mother. And then there'll be no one to mourn you when you've wasted yourself for no good reason at all.
i find it very interesting here in terms of other relationships that tara explicitly says that there will be no one to mourn gale except morena and her should he heed mystra's instructions and sacrifice himself. it speaks of the bond between tara, morena and gale - but also even more of gale's isolation and loneliness. we know from tara that she considers herself to be gale's only old friend and gale echoes as much. we also know that gale describes the dekarios family as the dekarios clan, that is "scattered" far and wide.
at the same time, the loud silence about gale's father becomes really apparent again. a while ago, i speculated about gale's father and i truly do still think that he abandoned morena and gale.
another snippet from an act ii convo, before gale reveals the details of elminster's letter to tara (or chosing to keep it to himself):
Tara the Tressym: I'm not one to pry. I'd rather make up all the juicy details myself over tea with your mother.
which again ties in with a similar line from act i, further cementing the fact that this is a regular thing between tara and morena.
still in act ii, tara says this if gale asks her if she'll still love him if he is a mindflayer:
Player: Will you love me when I'm a mind flayer? Tara the Tressym: Depends. Are mind flayers warm-blooded? If so, my prize napping spot on your lap won't be compromised. In which case, I suppose we could find an accord. And, of course, your mother would still think you a prince, no matter how many tentacles you had. And with a nautiloid, you may even manage to visit her more often.
again, gale's mother truly adores him. tara is utterly convinced she'd love him even if he'd turn into a mind flayer. at the same time, the dialogue again hammers home the fact that gale's been keeping his distance from his mother after he has acquired the orb.
the following lines are a compilation of some of tara's lines from act iii, all once again stating that she is a messenger between gale and morena, keeping morena informed about gale's well-being, while also looking after morena in gale's absence from waterdeep:
Tara the Tressym: You're almost at the end of this, Gale. You're nearly there. And not a moment too soon. Myself, I must away to Waterdeep. Your mother will be worried silly not to have heard from either of us - and now I can bring her the good news. When this is all over I'll be waiting for you, with a crackling fire and good book at the ready. Good luck, darling. - Tara the Tressym: I'm well past due to return to Waterdeep. I'm going to tell your mother that you'll be home soon. Don't make a liar of me, darling. - Tara the Tressym: I'll have to make up some good news for your dear mother, then. I'm going home, Gale. To look after Mrs Dekarios, and to remind you that there are people waiting for you in Waterdeep.
going back to companion gale, the next mention of gale's mother after saving mirkon, is from gale in an ambient with karlach:
Gale: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep? Karlach: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say... a long way away.devnote Gale: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. No matter - what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway.
it echoes the lines of dialogue that origin gale has, believing he endangers his mother with his condition and thus keeping his distance.
gale mentions his mother in an act iii dialogue after meeting tara on the rooftop of the open hand temple:
Gale: My tower in Waterdeep boasts an excellent kitchen and a wine cellar to rival Ondal himself. Not to mention a larder stocked with my homemade hundur sauce. Player: Hundur sauce? Gale: A Waterdhavian delicacy, spiced to leave exactly the right amount of heat lingering on the tongue, and served with that most sharp-toothed of aquarian residents, the quipper fish. I make it to my mother's recipe. It packs quite a wallop. As does she.
we know that gale's the designated camp cook from a conversation with wyll, and i think the conversation makes it fair to assume that gale's mother taught him how to cook.
still, maybe it's because i'm not a native english speaker and i might be missing some cultural context here, but the line "it packs quite a wallop. as does she." stuck out to me:
wallop. to hit something / someone hard.
this could mean that gale's seen her hit someone and packing quite a punch behind it. with what's been described of morena so far, i doubt it's because gale's ever been on the receiving end of that.
or perhaps it's less literal and more in relation to her seemingly larger than life personality that gale also hints at later, describing his mother as "intimitable" and "sometimes unavoidable". this description is from the following conversation that is currently sadly still bugged:
Player: So your last name is Dekarios? Gale: It is. Courtesy of my mother, the inimitable, dare I say it sometimes unavoidable, Morena Dekarios. It's been so long since I've used it. 'Gale Dekarios' cut a poor figure next to the wizard prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep'. Player: Gale Dekarios... I think I like him more. Gale: You like to many things about me I'd have sooner discarded... Your generosity is quite wonderful. Gale Dekarios likes you too. Very, very much. Though let's keep his exitence between ourselves for now. - Player: Doesn't your matter mind? Gale: Oh, she's happy if I'm happy. Morena couldn't care one jot what I call myself. Tara's the real stickler for using it. Has done since I summoned her. I'd prefer you not follow her exmaple, if that's all the same to you. 'Gale' is more than sufficient. - Player: You're right. Just 'Gale is better. Gale: I agree. And on the plus side, if I get myself into any truly cataclystic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.
i love this banter so much and it makes me very sad that larian still hasn't fixed the issue of it not triggering. there's so much lore to explore here:
from gale dropping 'dekarios' in favour of 'of waterdeep', at first, to appear perhaps more grandiose, more suited to the ambitions he held when he was younger, to morena, apparently, not minding it, yet tara clinging to 'dekarios' (perhaps to keep gale's feet on solid ground as much as she could), to finally finding out that the reason that the gale we meet now is not using 'dekarios' still is because he doesn't wish to tarnish his family name should he indeed fall victim to the orb.
the last mention gale makes of his mother is during his act iii post final battle dialogue, in which he proposes to the player:
Gale: That being said, I wondered if you might consider accompanying me back to Waterdeep as a new member of the Dekarios clan? Player: Are you asking me to marry you? Gale: I suppose I am. Tara would be delighted. Not to mention my mother. But I'd be just as happy without such ceremony, so long as we're together.
this again mirrors what tara has been saying in her dialogue with an origin gale in act i: that morena and her were hoping he would find someone to find happiness with.
i think overall, even with only the very few bits and pieces we learn of morena, it's easy to tell that she truly loves and adores and cares her son, and that that love and care is clearly echoed back from gale to morena.
still, or perhaps more likely because of that love, gale keeps his secrets and his distance to morena because of the orb and the shame he feels he brought to his family.
it's all too easy to imagine that he wishes her to be proud of him and that he feels he has disappointed her and given her little reason to be proud of him in the same vein that he feels he has done with tara:
Gale: She'd [Tara] be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I've given her little to be proud of recently.
anyhow, i hope i caught all mentions and that this was helpful to someone. 🖤
#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#morena dekarios#tara the tressym#baldur's gate 3#bg3#bg3 meta#ch: gale dekarios#ch: morena dekarios#ch: tara the tressym#vg: baldur's gate 3#series: baldur's gate#meta: mybg3
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I've noticed this pattern with antis in fandom where, in their attempt to distance themselves from anything and everything "problematic" in their fandoms, they refuse to acknowledge when they DO enjoy something problematic. Therefore, they don't recognize the problematic elements of the ship, character, media, etc. They'll also heavily downplay or deny any problematic. aspects of their favorite fandom thing.
I just saw an example of this and it is blowing my mind right now and I need to share this with y'all.
It involves the comments on this video.
youtube
Some context for Princess and the Frog: the blonde girl is Charlotte, also called Lottie. She's the main character Tiana's best friend. Charlotte's goal was always to marry a prince, and she almost marries (who she believes to be) Prince Naveen, but once she sees that Naveen and Tiana are in love, she tries to help them turn back human so they can be together.
At the end of the movie, Tiana and Naveen get married, and this scene plays after. Charlotte dances with Naveen's kid brother, and says "I've waited this long" in response to him saying that he's 6 and a half years old.
Now Charlotte's line here, if you look at the context clues of her story line, implies that she's saying "I've waited this long for a prince to marry, so I can wait longer for Naveen's younger brother to grow up." It's just a joke. Albeit, a joke that many will find to be very uncomfortable and inappropriate, but a joke nonetheless. I highly doubt Charlotte is actually going to "wait for" this child to grow up to marry him. She's making a joke at her expense, about her desperation of her dream to marry a prince.
BUT FOR SOME REASON.... many of the comments are like "she means that she's been waiting to DANCE with a prince."
I'm completely and utterly serious y'all. Here are some of the comments along those lines, with thousands of thumbs up each.
If you've seen this movie, you'll realize that these comments make absolutely no sense for more than one reason.
1) Charlotte danced with Prince Naveen (or at least with the villain disguised as him) earlier in the movie. She danced with a prince already. Why would that still be her dream if she already accomplished that?
2) Lottie speaks multiple times (during her childhood and in present day as a young adult) about her dream of "marrying a prince." Not dancing with a prince. Not meeting one. No, she wants to MARRY A PRINCE AND BE A PRINCESS.
This video has some clips of her saying this, at the time stamps 0:20, 2:52, 4:08, and 5:21.
youtube
Charlotte does give up her dream of marrying Naveen specifically for Tiana, because she see that he makes Tiana happy. But with how she jumps in like a wide receiver to catch the bouquet at Naveen and Tiana's wedding, it's clear she still has her dream of marrying *A* prince, just not Naveen.
But back to the comments on that video.
The comments seem to be downplaying the actual implication of her line. It's almost like they're desperately trying to ignore what she actually meant and make it more wholesome because they don't want to admit that their favorite movie has an uncomfy and inappropriate joke.
It's disturbing that this is yet another example where people in fandom (who are fantis or have been influenced by that fanti mindset) are downplaying a scene (or a ship, trope, etc) that is ACTUALLY problematic because they personally like the movie or the character and they don't want to admit that it has some issues. Instead of just admitting "yeah that scene/line was kinda fucked up and gross," they are jumping through HOOPS to make it seem more innocent than it was. And this is completely blowing my mind and is honestly concerning.
If you want to personally interpret it in a different way, in a way to make it more palatable to you, be my guest. That's what fandom and fanon is all about and I do that a lot too. But to see so many people outright deny the actual implications of this line is... bizarre af. It's one thing to be like "hmm yeah I don't like that, so I'm going to personally interpret this ship/trope/scene differently so it's more comfortable to me." It's another thing entirely to be in complete denial and ignore the actual context of the character and their story.
Also, so many of the other comments on the video aren't even commenting on the actual scene or on what Charlotte said. They're just generic comments on how much they love Charlotte as a character or how they miss this 2D animation. It's like they're trying reallyyyyyy hard to ignore the joke that's being made.
On the grander scheme, this is concerning because these people are refusing to acknowledge something that's inappropriate at best and predatory at worse (an adult "waiting" for a child to grow up) because they don't want to be caught enjoying/supporting something "bad."
All their talk about normalizing and normalization, but they're the ones kinda normalizing bad things by downplaying them or being in denial of it when it's in THEIR favorite media. And that is very concerning and a big issue.
#throwing salt#uh what other tags did i use to use? I legit can't remember#fandom discourse#fantis#Youtube
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What If - Part One
Summary: Tensions between the clans are high so to ease the reclaiming of Mandalore, an old tradition is reintroduced.
Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader
Wordcount: 6.0k | Rating: E (18+ only!)
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), finger sucking, oral fixation maybe, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk and loving verbal humiliation, exhibitionism (lite)
Here we are! Last year, April did not go so well for our favourite Big Blue so I decided the only way I can get over it is by rewriting That Episode in a way that I find acceptable. Naturally, that also meant adding A/B/O dynamics.
Joke aside: I love love love my Calmer AU and I love love love it even more if we can pair it with a fix it AU so this is what that is. However, I won’t be super stringent with adhering to the rest of the canon either. Both because I am here for the vibes only atm and also because I still haven’t seen the S3 finale so I have no idea how it actually ends. lol
Anyway, I would be very happy to hear what you think in a comment or a reblog, those really do give me life.
masterlist | crossposted on AO3
“This is a joke, right? This has to be a joke.”
You watched as Axe Woves, captain of the privateers and the most insufferable alpha you had ever met, looked at Bo-Katan as if she had lost her mind. And to be fair you could not really blame him. When her suggestion had first been made public knowledge, everyone had thought she had lost her mind.
Well, almost everyone.
“You want to reinstall an ancient rule just because these primitives cannot control their emotions?”
“It is not only about them controlling their emotions,” Bo-Katan pointedly interjected, her arms crossed in front of her chest. You had heard a lot about her but the actual experience of seeing her and hearing her speak was … underwhelming. “It is about bringing the tribes closer together.”
The alpha scoffed, clearly unimpressed and you scrunched your nose, not really liking the scent he emitted. As an omega, you were used to having strong-scented alphas all around you but there was a difference between a casual run-in and standing in a small room with the alpha leaders of opposing tribes. The difference being that under any other circumstances, you would have been able to escape the stench of this arrogant alpha.
Now, though, you were stuck between what felt like a rock and a hard place.
“It might be ancient for you but it is not for us,” The Armourer said calmly.
Your eyes flitted to the alpha leader of the clan that you had only gotten to know as a “cult”. She had a very demanding presence, one that almost rivalled that of Briggs. Which you knew he noticed by the way he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.
“What do you think?” Sluice asked you. Briggs was standing next to her, looking as stoic as ever and you knew it had to be serious when they rested their decisions on you. Not that they never asked you for your opinion, you were a respected member of the council, after all, but it was your first term as the voted omega representative and you had relied on their guidance a lot when it came to decision-making – especially on this scale. But now it seemed they were relying on yours.
You looked back at your fellow council member and friend, Chants, who gave you a slight nod.
“I think I would do anything to get us peace,” you said, finally, highly aware that next to your friend you were the only omega in the room and the person who everybody’s eyes rested on, “And the ancient rules lasted for centuries for a reason. They worked then and I cannot think of anything why they would not work now.”
“Maybe because they will use any chance they get to exploit the innocent omegas of other clans.”
You frowned, not liking any of Axe’s implications. Were omegas of Djarin’s tribe not innocent? Did he think you were incapable of defending yourself?
You were about to think of a retort when another alpha across the room stood up from his seat. He was clearly from Djarin’s clan as he was wearing a helmet and smelled so offended, you had to fight the urge not to snap at Woves himself. What startled you most, however, was how big that man was. You had thought him to be standing already with how tall he was and he was even taller when he actually stood up, his figure demanding a lot of space and everybody’s attention.
“I am not sure how you were raised but where I come from we respect our omegas,” he thundered, his voice deep and cracking through the beskar barrier, “And especially our calmers.”
Axe Woves looked as if he was biting his tongue not to say anything and you had to suppress your smile when you saw the strict look on Bo-Katan’s face. She was obviously trying her best to keep everyone in line.
“It is decided, then,” The Armourer announced, “We will collect the names of those willing to be calmers and distribute them amongst our tribes. This is the way.”
*
It did not come as a surprise that the desire to be a calmer in these times was … almost non-existent. You knew Sluice and Briggs did their best to present a united front but it was hard to convince omegas across all clans of something by having their highest-ranking alphas making decisions for them.
Still, given the circumstances, you were glad to find that a decent number of omegas seemed to be at least willing to hear you out.
You and Chants had been the first ones to volunteer, figuring that if you, as omega representatives of the council, chose to volunteer, it might assure other omegas who were still on the fence. And it had a surprisingly positive effect because, from all clans, omegas signed up. And the more omegas signed up, the more they seemed to encourage other omegas to sign up as well.
Soon, the sun had settled over Nevarro and a few fires had been made by which the Mandalorians of all clans huddled together. Crates and ship pieces had been pulled to create some circle-like shapes and make-shift benches and once the foundlings had all been sent to bed, the announcement began.
One after the other, names were drawn, pairing an omega with an alpha. You watched friends, acquaintances and strangers make their way to the centre when their names were called, before walking away together.
When you heard your name called, it was like you were in the clouds. Far away from everything and everyone. Maybe you could still say no, maybe you could just go and disappear forever. What if you were paired with someone horrid? Would people be angry if you decided to leave even though you were the first to volunteer? What if you weren’t good at the whole claiming thing at all and your failure resulted in a war that was to last centuries?
“ … Paz Vizsla.”
The giant of a man stood up and your heart stopped. That was the man from the council meeting, the one who had spoken against Woves. The one whose head had almost touched the ceiling and who was wearing a blaster on his thigh even now. There was nothing on his body that looked as if it could not be used as a weapon. If this was how he was in his home, how hostile was he in places he did not know?
Your heart raced in your chest as you walked towards him, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at you. You felt sick to your stomach and your breathing had to be abnormally loud. What if everyone could hear how nervous you were? How panicked? What if that was reason enough for other volunteers to change their mind and then it was all for nothing?
When your hands touched, his proximity pulled you back down to Nevarro.
You followed him wordlessly to the back of the group, passing a few couples that already seemed to get acquainted. You tried not to look at them, the same way you tried not to look at him for fear that his giant stature would terrify you into leaving.
Paz Vizsla was a warrior through and through and it showed in the way he was sitting too. He took up almost all the space on the little bench and even when he was sitting down and you were standing up, he seemed so much bigger than you.
“Hello,” he said and you were taken aback by how gentle he sounded. He did not look gentle. He looked dangerous. He looked like he could snap you in half. He –
“Hello,” you replied shyly.
He tilted his head and you reminded yourself to look into his visor and not take in his very large presence. Was he as large underneath the plates of armour? What was that colour all about? Did it mean anything?
His hand tugged on yours and it took you a moment to realize he wanted you sit to on his lap.
Careful not to come too close, you perched yourself on his knees even though it resulted in his knee pads digging into your thighs uncomfortably. Ironic, considering you were about to get to know this man in the most intimate ways.
“I don’t bite, you know?” he sounded surprisingly amused, his legs spreading under yours and you squeaked, throwing your arms around his neck to keep your balance.
“I suppose the helmet would make that very hard,” you replied, not thinking about how you wanted to keep this alpha happy and not risk antagonizing him.
But to your surprise, the alpha warrior roared with laughter, sounding nothing like the stern and dangerous man you had imagined. You smiled a little, loosening your grip around his shoulder and allowing yourself to truly rest your weight on him.
“What is your name?” he asked, his big hand running over your back before coming to rest on your lower back. The heat of his touch did not feel unpleasant and you took a deep breath.
“What is it to you?” you asked right back, keeping your tone even as you kept your eyes on the front of the fire where the announcements continued to pair up calmers and alphas.
“Do you not think I should know the name of the omega I am about to make very happy?”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his flat joke but the corners of your mouth tugged up nonetheless. “Aren’t you going to call me omega all the time anyway?”
“Yes, but as an endearment,” he stated, his helmet resting next to your cheek, “Not because I won't know your name.”
That was weirdly touching.
You told him your name, then, and your body shivered as he repeated it in a deep voice.
“I gather you have more experience in this than I do,” you shifted, “What, uh, how … how do we proceed?”
“However we want to,” he replied as if that was not easier said than done, “There are a few things I need to know first, though. Are you here out of your own free will?”
“Of course, I am,” you protested, “I was the one to agree to this whole scheme if you recall, why would I not be here of my own free will?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice was calm and his second hand brushed over your arm up to your neck where you could feel your pulse race, “And because you smelled … hesitant.”
“You can smell me with that helmet on?”
“You would be surprised at the things I can do with that helmet on.”
You raised your eyebrows, feeling your cheeks heat up at the innuendo. This man was nothing like you had imagined at all. He seemed ... funny, oddly enough. And kind in a way you had not expected. And gentle, too, with the way his hold on your body was strong and supportive but certainly loose enough that you could leave any time you wanted to.
“Are you wet?”
“Uh, what?”
His voice dropped an octave and his gloved hand brushed over your neck, barely brushing your scent gland. “Are you wet, omega?” he repeated his question, “Does your body react to my scent? To my voice? To my touch? Do you like the idea of being close to me?”
“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, shifting your legs and trying to ignore the low pulsing in your core. How could a voice be so enticing in a man?
“Good,” he grunted, “Open your mouth.”
You did, opening your mouth for him and feeling your heart skip three beats at once. He pulled off his gloves, revealing thick, weathered hands and fingers. There were inked designs on them, tattoos whose meanings you did not know but you wanted to. You wanted to ask him and listen to his stories while putting your nose on his neck, just close enough to the edge of his helmet so you could smell him. And scent him, maybe, if he would let you.
Shocked at your own daydreams, you tried to focus instead on what you could see and not the images your brain came up with. Every one of his fingers had at least one tattooed knuckle but his ring and middle finger had the most designs on them, some of the lines already a little washed out from age. Much like the rest of his body, his hands and fingers were big and thick. And despite your best intentions, your mind instantly wandered to what it would feel like to have them on your body.
“Wider,” he instructed you, his hand flexing, and you glanced around, wanting to make sure that no one else was watching. But you were his calmer and you wanted to calm him. Even if it meant other people saw you in a more vulnerable position than you would prefer.
Not to mention that the way he rumbled out instructions as if you were the best thing in the whole wide galaxy made the wetness between your thighs spread.
Something in his voice made you want to please him and so you pushed out your tongue, just the tiniest bit but it seemed to be enough. “Stars,” he hummed, thick fingers settling on your tongue and pushing down, “I think we are going to have a lot of fun, aren’t we, omega?”
It was instinct to suck on his fingers, coating them in your saliva and you closed your eyes, trying to think one thought at a time. Like how big they were in your mouth and how heavy. How he did not move them at all, before gently pushing down on your tongue. You followed his silent order and opened your mouth again, your eyes fluttering open when you heard the rumble in his chest.
You could not see his eyes through the visor but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense. He did not say anything when he pulled his two fingers away. Your eyes followed the movement, spotting the wet trail that connected them to your bottom lip, still, and found yourself wishing for them back in your mouth.
What had this man done to you?
He put three fingers together, then. His ring, middle and pointer fingers landed on your tongue before pushing inside, deeper than before. You took a deep breath through your nose, feeling the touch tickle at the back of your throat and you swallowed around the digits, trying not to gag.
The alpha hummed, his legs moving and thus jostling you in his lap. He pulled his fingers away again and you whined, your mouth following him as if you could pull his fingers back by the power of sheer will alone.
Heat collected in your cheeks and between your thighs at the realization that you liked this. You liked him in charge.
You looked around nervously, trying to gauge if anyone had seen this moment of weakness. And it seemed that no one had, except for the alpha that had put you in this position in the first place. “No one is watching us,” he assured you, pushing his fingers back in your mouth, “No one is looking at you, omega. Wanna know how I know?”
Relaxing your throat so he could get his fingers deeper, seemed to be answer enough.
He tilted his head, a pleased hum leaving him when you swirled your tongue around his fingers. “Because everybody knows I don’t share my omega, and that includes seeing how beautiful you look drooling on my fingers like it is my cock.”
His fingers were pulled from your mouth again, only to be pushed back in and you realised what he was doing. “Open your mouth for me again, sweetheart,” he said, “Let me see how good you take my fingers.�� Like they are my cock.
It remained unsaid but the thought that he was … fucking your throat with his fingers made you wetter than you would have admitted. But you opened your mouth for him nonetheless, letting him see how his fingers glided over your tongue, playing with it before pulling out, dragging over your bottom lip and leaving a drooly mess behind.
“Thank the stars it was you,” he whispered, running his wet fingers over your lips, “I hoped it would be you.”
His words caused something in you to stir. Confusion, mostly, but also a feeling of flattery that he seemed to have noticed you before. That it wasn’t just duty for him. That, maybe, it wasn’t just duty for you. Not when he caused your blood to stir like that with just his fingers in your mouth.
“Can you open your dress for me and still be comfortable, omega?” he asked, his voice almost drowned out by the crackling of the fire, “I want to claim you once out in the open. So everyone can see what a good calmer you are.”
“What if I’m not though?” you heard yourself ask. Your voice sounded way too small to your liking, not at all teasing and flirting like you wanted to but insecure and a little hoarse from where he had been using your throat.
“I know you are,” the alpha replied steadily, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip, “I know it from the way you try to be so good to me. Know it from the way you don’t recoil from me. Do you have any idea how long it has been since I smelled someone as beautiful as you?”
Beautiful, his voice echoed in your head and you looked at him with wide eyes, the desire to touch him growing stronger.
“To be honest,” he murmured, his fingers running over your cleavage, playing with the top button of your dress, “I don’t think I ever smelled an omega that I wanted to claim as much as you.”
“Then you haven’t met many omegas,” you replied, trying to ignore your trembling hands as you undid your dress. The fabric fell open on your middle and you could see the way his chest moved a little heavier.
“Stand up,” he instructed you, meddling with a little pouch on his thigh. Your eyes fell to the where his legs had shuffled apart even more. He was not wearing a codpiece, you noticed, and the bulge in his pants was huge. Or, when it came to him, proportional.
At the thought of him putting that … thing inside you, you squeezed your thighs together. You had never been with an alpha before, and certainly not an aloha of that kind of size. Not even your toys to help you through your heats were this big.
“What is that?” you asked, watching as he pulled a little tube out of his pocket.
“Lube,” he explained, holding the little bottle up, “I am big and I don’t want to hurt you.”
Your entire body tingled with desire and you shuffled your legs again. The cool evening breeze reminded you of your state of undress and you glanced around nervously.
“No one is watching,” he reminded you. “Now,” he put the bottle down next to him, petting his thighs, “Up you go.”
Your dress fell open and just like that, you were completely bare to him. It did not make you as nervous as you had thought it would. Knowing this strange man was looking at you, touching you, did not fill you with a sense of dread. Because he did not feel like a stranger. He felt … familiar.
The way Paz Vizsla was touching you only made your entire body thrum with pleasure, like he knew exactly just where you were most sensitive.
His bare fingers brushed over your chin, down your neck, between your breasts down your middle until they just barely grazed your folds. You rocked your hips, just the slightest bit, to get him closer but the alpha pulled his fingers away.
Then he repeated the motion, touching you but avoiding the places where you wanted – needed – him most.
Your mouth fell open, your tongue slipping out in a moment of weakness. But as soon as you noticed what you were doing, you closed it again, hoping he had not seen it. But of course, he had.
The warrior chuckled. “You want my fingers back in your mouth, don’t you?”
You swallowed, your eyes flicking to the tree line behind him in the hopes that he could not see the embarrassment so clearly written on your face.
“This is not the time to be shy,” he reminded you, his fingers tipping your chin up. You knew he was looking at you, could feel the weight of his gaze on you. And you also knew that he knew the answer already. There was no denying it. So, you nodded.
“Good girl,” he praised you, “Open your mouth for me again.”
Pushing out your tongue as he pushed his fingers back in your mouth, you allowed yourself to really enjoy it this time. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked on them and it did not take long before you wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to get closer to him. With you straddling him – and wearing barely anything – the cool night air made you feel cold and exposed.
Until his other hand was on your pussy again.
When his fingers brushed over your clit, gathering the wetness between your folds, your entire body tensed. His fingers felt thick and calloused, a stark contrast to what your own fingers felt like and you breathed through the initial stretch of having two of them pushed inside you. Your toes tingled with pleasure as he edged them deeper and deeper, his movements slow and controlled until you felt like you were blinded by pleasure.
He crooked his digits inside you, rubbing over a spot you could only reach on the rare occasion that you took a lot of time for yourself.
Now though, it seemed like it was effortless for him.
“Paz,” you mumbled around his digits, your voice muffled.
“Deep breaths,” he instructed, “Open up for me, sweetheart, let me in that pussy.”
Surprisingly enough, his words got you to relax and you sucked on his fingers again. Focussing on the weight and the feel of them on your tongue like he was not fingering you surrounded by dozens of people. No one is looking at me, you remembered his words and they felt safe. They felt true.
He kept moving his fingers, working you until three thick digits were stretching you further than you had ever been stretched before. Your walls were already fluttering around him and you could feel the wetness seeping down his hand.
“You're ready,” he stated, pulling his fingers from your pussy and your mouth. You were not sure which loss you mourned more.
You looked down between you, observing as he opened his pants, freeing his cock to your eyes. He was big, that was no surprise. But it was a surprise how thick he was. His shaft bobbed between you, the weight of it almost dropping him down.
How is that supposed to fit inside me? you wanted to ask How am I supposed to take this?
His hand wrapped around himself, pumping his shaft a few times and before you knew what you were doing, you reached out, your fingertips brushing over the head of him. He felt hot and soft. Paz groaned, the sound beautiful in your ears, and his hand reached for yours, helping your hand wrap around him.
Your fingers barely met around him and you let him guide your hand up and down his shaft, letting him direct the strength of your grip. “Stars, that feels good,” he murmured, moving so his cock bumped against your folds, running it through them again and again until it met your clit. You jerked at the touch, your pussy clenching.
Deciding to take matters into your own hands – literally – you continued to hold his cock, rubbing your thumb just under his head before grinding on top of him. The touch of him against your wetness was everything you needed as you started to rub yourself against him. Your breath came faster and you could feel how dripping wet and needy you were for him.
And Paz felt it too.
He seemed completely at ease and if it were not for his rock-hard erection between you, you would have wondered if he had been affected by you at all. But when you whimpered once again as his head rubbed over your clit, you could see his hand reaching for the little bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount of fluid on his fingers before reaching between you and spreading it on himself.
“You ready, omega?” he asked you and you could not nod quickly enough.
With a racing heart and a dripping pussy, you lifted yourself up to your knees, the wood of the bench digging into your joints. But you could not care less as your pebbled nipples pressed against the cold beskar of his armour and he leant back, allowing you to rest your weight onto him.
This position gave you almost all the control and you appreciated it. You appreciated it even more when his warm hand slipped under the dress covering your back, landing just above your butt.
“Go on,” he encouraged you, holding his shaft for you, his tip breaching your entrance as you first started lowering yourself into him.
“Oh shit,” you gasped, sinking down on him a little more, “A-alpha, you’re – you're –“
“Big, I know,” he teased you, his fingers digging into your back, “But you can take me, sweet omega, I know you can.”
And you did.
It took minuscule thrusts and encouraging hums paired with his thumb drawing circles into your skin but when you felt his thigh plates under your legs, you were fuller than ever before. Not even the toys you had to keep you company through your heat filled you like this.
And yet here you were, seated on the biggest cock you had ever taken, facing a faceless alpha whose hands had shifted to your hips, his fingers brushing circles into your skin as if he was just as in awe of what was happening as you were.
“There we fucking go,” he praised you, his voice gentle even through the helmet, “Look at you, taking such a big cock almost all the way.”
The glow of the fire was warm against your back. You felt tense and full, your body constantly trying to adjust to his size. With how your legs were spread around him, you felt like you were barely holding on and you did not know how you could possibly take him to the base.
Which was exactly what you said.
But Paz only chuckled, the sound warm and you sighed when one of his hands drifted up to your neck, brushing over your scent gland. Your back bowed in pleasure and you took a deep breath in, tilting your head so your nose could run over his wrist. His scent was spicy and comforting and you breathed in deeply, feeling your thighs relax.
The alpha beneath you made a soothing noise, his thumb brushing over your scent gland again, just enough to have you clenching on his cock.
“Relax, omega,” he whispered, his helmet tilting forward, “Relax for me.”
“Easier said than done,” you murmured, tightening your arms around him, “I’ve – stars, I’ve never felt so full.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he rumbled and you snorted out a laugh. You could smell how pleased he was with himself for the joke and you leaned forward, burying your head in his neck and in his scent.
“I bet I can make you take it all the way,” he said, his hand on your back pushing you just a little bit closer.
“Feeling cocky, huh?” your joke ended in a hiss as you wiggled your hips, his cock shifting inside you.
“One could say that,” he rumbled, jerking his hips as if to prove his point, “So what do you say? Wanna take the bet?”
“What do I get if I win?”
“You get to come.”
“And if you win?”
“I get to make you come.”
“Seems like a win-win,” you gasped, trying your hardest to lift yourself up. Your legs were straining with the effort and despite how wet you were, he was big inside you and any movement felt like it would end you in the best way.
Paz put his hand between you, his fingertips gently circling your clit. Another hiss left your lips and you could feel your walls clamping around him. Or trying to clamp around him. He was so big it felt like all you could do was simply sit there and take whatever he gave you.
Another shift, You could feel his legs move beneath you and you squeaked in surprise when he spread them further apart, your weight suddenly no longer supported by his legs. You tightened your grip around his neck shifting just that much lower on his shaft that had your walls pulsing.
His big hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, helping you stay up. It took you a second to realize that he wanted you to relax like this, that he wanted to help carry your weight like this, and you frowned.
“Trust me,” he murmured as if he could read your mind, “Let me lead, omega, I promise it will feel good.”
Before you could protest, he started to move you, lifting you up until only the tip of him remained in you. Your fingers dug into his until you could feel the blood leaving your knuckles. But Paz did not let you fall. Instead, he slowly sank you down again, just a little bit, before lifting you up again.
You gasped out a breath, his slow and shallow thrusts opening you up for more. Soon, the first few inches did not feel like they could ever be enough and when you wriggled your hips in his grip he let you sink lower until you felt like there was nowhere left to go.
“See?” he whispered, grinding you down on his cock, your clit rubbing against him, “This is how you relax, omega, all you needed was a little help to take my cock all the way.”
“Alpha,” you whimpered, trying to get him to move, “Please – please –“
“You know what I think?” he asked you his voice cool as ever as he moved you on his cock, “I think you don’t even want to win the bet,” he revealed, the coolness of the beskar against your cheek, “I think all you want is to come on my fat cock and get all cock drunk on me.”
“I have,” you gasped, your body opening up for him even more, “I have never been cock drunk.”
“First time for everything,” he teased, his hands gripping the back of your thighs even tighter, “Now rub your pretty clit for me,” he instructed, “Let me work you on my cock and you get to come all over me, hm?”
It was not difficult to get your fingers on your pussy, working yourself into a frenzy that was only helped by the way he lifted you up and down on his cock like it was no work at all. You felt like a toy almost, in his hands, letting him move you this and that way so that his cock hit a spot inside you that made you see stars.
The squelching noises told you how wet you were and they made you even wetter still. It had never been like this for you, giving up the control of your pleasure and yet you did not want it to change. On the contrary, you wanted to revel in it.
You wanted to see how big he was inside you, wanted to see how he split you open, how small you were against him, how his knot would swell against you. The images made you clench around him and the man underneath you let out a grunt, his hips thrusting up against you.
His movement hindered yours and so you decided to relax against him, leaving everything completely up to him except for the fingertips working on yourself.
His thrusts were forceful and your tits bounced with the movement. Your fingers continued to circle your clit and you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to your release.
“Prettiest omega that ever sat on my cock,” he praised you, “I can already tell you were made to calm me. Made to take my cock.”
“Y-Yes,” you nodded eagerly, thinking of how the next days were going to be filled with nothing but taking his cock over and over and over again. Stars, you were lucky.
“Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, working his, “Are you going to take my cock like a good little calmer? Sit on my knot all day? Take my come when I need you to?”
With your mouth open in a silent moan, you could only nod again. You had never felt like this before, this free and shameless. Like all that mattered was your pleasure and his because you felt like his pleasure would give you more than you had ever imagined.
The images his words caused in you made your walls pulse even more. You could see yourself spending most of your days just like this, full of his cock and breathing in his scent. Or kneeling between his legs, trying to swallow all the he could give you.
It was no surprise that with your fingers on your clit, his fantasies in your ears and his cock in your pussy, you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. And with the way his fingers tightened on you, he was close too.
“Want me to come inside you or on your face?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse, “Or I could come on this pretty pussy? Make you play with it?”
“Inside,” you gasped, throwing your head back when his thrusts started to speed up, “Stars, please – please inside me.”
His groan slipped from under his helmet and when he hit a particular spot inside you, your vision went white. You could feel your walls spasm around him as pleasure rippled throughout your entire body. Everything tingled, from your head to your toes, and something shifted, like the world was suddenly … different.
Paz’s hands held you down on him, burying himself as deeply inside you as he could and as you sagged against him, your chest against his beskar chest, you could feel him pulse inside you.
He really was filling you to the brim.
Where before you had hardly been able to focus on what was going on around you, now you were only left with your heartbeat in your ears and the silence between you.
Hone hand swept over your back, up to the back of your neck and you leaned into his touch.
“How was that?” he asked quietly, his fingers once again seeking out that sensitive spot under your ear, “How are you feeling?”
You ran your nose over his scent gland, taking comfort in the smell that was already becoming familiar. The contact made him twitch inside you, again and again, and you swore you felt another spurt of come filling you.
“Tired,” you admitted against the fabric of his undershirt, “Tired and full and great and …” you trailed off, taking in another breath, “Good. I feel good.”
His body shook under yours in a warm chuckle. “I’m glad,” he replied, “Though it sounds like you need a good night’s sleep before the meetings tomorrow.”
“Sleep sounds good,” you mumbled, “Sleep sounds wonderful.”
“Let me get you to your bunk, then, love,” he whispered, gently untangling himself from you. “I will see you in the morning.”
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That Damn Polaroid™ (and Some Thoughts on the Events in April/InStyle Stunt)
This polaroid... Nicola, Nicola, Nicola 😂
This polaroid still gets me today. Like, yes, this was for PR to some extent, BUT this was also SUCH a public statement. We know N has her phone ALL THE TIME. And (from what we know) the picture was on her phone for WEEKS (MONTHS technically). L appeared fine too with it being there (at least from what we know in the interviews where they talked about it). And that wasn't just like a cutesy little picture of two friends/coworkers. It was a 🔥/powerful pic. And as I mentioned here, N uses pictures as a way of communicating with others. And her excuse that she just "didn't have any pockets at the time", so she put the photo there (and proceeded to keep it there for MONTHS) 🙄 Sure Jan... So, with all of this context, I'm first going to talk about some of my thoughts on what was going on between L/A between the end of February to beginning of April, what was going on between L/N in April up until the Italy stops (including thoughts on the InStyle Stunt), and then at the end I will talk about my thoughts on WHY N had that photo on her phone for such a long time and the deeper meaning it might have had then just promoting the show.
Heads up, this is going to be a longg post...
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I think this post from @newghlan pretty much sums up what I think was going on between L/A during end of February to early April. There was MAJOR flirty energy between L/N during the VDay event and BAFTAs. I talked a little bit here about how there was a very brief clip from the BAFTAs where they look like they got caught when they were embracing each other. I highly recommend checking out the video if you haven't already, because the noverbal cues speak VOLUMES. And it's just interesting that they would look like they got caught at this public event? It read to me that for SOME reason, they did not want that small clip to be captured and put out to the public 🤔
My theories are that by the BAFTAs, A was NOT happy about L/N's chemistry and connection. Maybeee L promised to redirect his attention to A, which is why L wasn't seen at/didn't go to the Big Mood premiere, and why L took A to LA with him and agreed to the InStyle Stunt to appease her. I've never doubted that L has probably had feelings for A (although I still think it was/is fairly casual), but like tbh, I'm CERTAIN his feelings for N are SO MUCH DEEPER. So when those feelings came flooding back when they did reshoots in December 2023, and then had to proceed right into working on promotion in January (which I think just made all the feelings stronger), I feel like he probably had some guilt because he was TRYING to explore his relationship with A. BUT L was reconnecting with N, and I think emotionally, that's where his heart is at. And A noticed this, so she was upset (which honestly, is understandable imo- some of A's actions though because of these feelings she was having I definitely don't agree with). I think L was unsure though about going there again with N, and so he wanted to prove to A (and SPECIFICALLY to himself) that A was the one he wanted to be with. So he focuses his energies on A, agrees to the InStyle Stunt so she gets SOME kind of public acknowledgement (which was a BIG goal of hers in the relationship), and tries to distance some from N. That didn't reallyyyy work though, and then we got what we did for the rest of the tour between L/N.
Before I get to my thoughts on April between L/N, I want to list some specific timeline things around the InStyle Stunt:
L does the InStyle interview (in LA I believe?) near the end of March (so that's when L/A were in LA)
A posts the LA photos on her IG on April 7th and April 14th (and L likes these posts)- I believe she has since deleted another set of these LA photos, so idk what date she posted those photos (sometime in early April though I believe)
The InStyle article comes out on April 29th (with the accompanying Polaroid pics that prove A was in LA with him- this also confirmed that L had coordinated these photos with A to acknowledge (without publicly acknowledging) that he and A were an item)
L posts the non-polaroid photos from the InStyle article on his IG on April 29th (and N likes the post and comments (on April 29) "Yess dude!!")
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April/Early May Between L/N
L/N attend the Bridgerton Season 3 London Photocall on April 12 (which is where the photo above was taken AND where the infamous polaroid was taken). Earlier that day (I believe), L/N also did a series of interviews for the show, and those interviews had some SERIOUS flirty/sexual energy to them (including one of L's (not so subtle) butt pinches with N). I would highly recommend rewatching those interviews if you haven't. If anyone has the links to these particular interviews (N is wearing the same necklace, and L the same tank top and jacket that they are wearing in the picture above), please link them in the comments below.
L/N are at events in Bowral, Australia from April 21-23
L/N in Milan May 9 (with the interviews where they are disconnected and likely beefing)
L/N in Verona May 10 (and they are all cutesy with each other and seem back on the same page)
So here are my thoughts (and why the InStyle Stunt/article might have come into play as to why they had been beefing in Milan):
As I mentioned, I think L was TRYING to distance himself some from N in March and refocus his attention on A. However, I think that pull with N was still really strong, and BTS they were still having to see each other and communicate in order to prepare for their upcoming promotional events. My guess is that all this sexual/flirty tension was building up between them BTS in March, which is why they were soooo unhinged in those interviews before the London Photocall on April 12. I also think early April is when L was starting to realize that his feelings for N were coming back full force, and was maybeeee getting a little green light from N that the feelings were reciprocated (but they weren't actually addressing it because I think they were scared/nervous). However, I think they continue flirting with each other in April (maybe secretly through messaging, and also when they were in person).
Note: We also have to remember that L gave those polaroids to InStyle (most likely) at the end of March when he did the interview. Therefore, the InStyle Stunt was set in motion by that point. I've been wondering though recently, if he had known what was going to happen between him and N in April and early May, if he might not have gone along/set up the InStyle stunt 🤔 Just some thoughts I've been having...
Then we get to the Bowral events near the end of April (BEFORE the InStyle article comes out though, confirming L had coordinated this with A), and it seems pretty obvious to me that L is trying to test the water with N and see how she's feeling about them (they are both being a little publicly flirty, but L much more so imo (N still seems to have a lot of her walls up in public)). It makes sense L might be hesitant to open himself back up to N when, as I talked about here, I think he got his heart broken a little by N. However, I think N was starting to open herself up to the possibility of really trying with L (because I think she has ALSO loved him for a while, but just was never in the place to really commit to the relationship for various reasons). I think she was finally feeling though that she was ready to give this relationship a serious shot, but knew L was kind of in a relationship. I think N was under the impression though that it wasn't super serious, so I think she was hopeful she and L might be able to figure it out.
A lot of people have been commenting that the InStyle Stunt/article wouldn't have upset N because she would have already known about it because of the pictures A posted in early April. I disagree. Now, we obviously don't know 100% if N knew that L was going to add those polaroids to the article. Tbh, we also don't 100% know if she even knew about the pictures that A posted of the LA trip (because I don't get the sense N exerts a whole lot of energy and time following what A does). Yes, N commented and liked L's post on April 29 related to the InStyle article. However, that does not confirm that she had already read the article. And she wasn't going to unlike and remove her comment, because fans would have noticed and flipped out. I am more inclined to believe that she really wasn't aware that this was all going to go down, mainly because I think L didn't want N to know/was trying to be sneaky about it. I think once N figured it all out after the article came out, the thing she was most upset by was how this article proved L had coordinated with A to indirectly publicly announce that they were an item (while L was continually putting out to the press at that point that he was single). Therefore, I think N was pi**ed because she didn't want this to impact their tour/her (their) public image. And secondly, I think she was upset because of the feelings she was having for him, and how flirty he had been with her the last few months. I think it all caught N off gaurd, and her walls went WAY back up. And we have to remember that this all happened just a few days before the Milan event, so I think that energy between them just spilled over and resulted in their very disconnected nonverbal cues in Milan.
I talked a little bit more about my thoughts on Italy here, but I think after L/N got back on the same page emotionally, it was pretty much game over emotionally with A for L. His heart wasn't really in it anymore (and tbh, I don't think it ever really was). Also, I've said this multiple times, but Italy is when N starts posting the "boyfriend pics" of L (which L obviously agreed to). Personally, I think N (and indirectly L) were sending a message to a certain someone 🤔 But just a theory... I have also already talked about it here and here on my theories on why L was never going to be able to publicly untangle himself from A for a while, regardless of what was going on BTS with L/N.
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What Could be the Deeper Meaning Behind the Polaroid?
So, my point with everything is this. I think early April was a MAJOR turning point for N in terms of her feelings/emotions for L. Here are my thoughts (outside of PR) on why N put THAT Polaroid on her phone from the London Photcall event on April 12 (and for MONTHS):
First, we need to acknowledge that L obviously approved of this photo being on her phone (or at least was complicit to it), which I think speaks VOLUMES about where L was at emotionally with N at the time (and where L WASN'T at emotionally with A). This confirms to me that things just weren't that serious with A, even if he was TRYING to refocus his attention on A. L's heart was still with N.
N wanted people to know that they were a unit through this experience, and that N truly loves him and their friendship/connection. She wanted to share to the world how special he AND their experience on Bridgerton is to her.
I think she put that SPECIFIC picture on her phone because her feelings were STARTING to change for L around this event/that general time period. I think N was starting to see L in a bit of a new light (in a positive way), and was seeing some real potential between them.
Lastly, I think one of the reasons she kept the photo on her phone for so long (outside of the PR), is because her walls were starting to come down, things were getting more serious between her and L, and she was happy (and she wanted the public to know 😉). And L/N could kind of hide behind this unspoken public narrative that it was just for "PR" (which I NEVER bought).
Now yes, she has since changed the polaroid. However, we have NO idea what the photo is of now (or if she is consistently changing it out/or completely changed her phone case). She knows our obsession with the Polaroid though, so I think she likes to tease us about it. She knows what she is doing 😉 That OG polaroid though during the PR tour had a MUCH deeper meaning than just promoting the show, and was a significant public statement about her relationship with L. Just my theory though...
#just my thoughts#lukola theories#timelines#InStyle Stunt#that damn polaroid 😂#a picture is worth a thousand words#April was a MAJOR turning point for N me thinks 🤔#What I wouldn't give to know EXACTLY WHY N had that polaroid on her phone for the whole world to see 😂😅
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« i’m so stupid to have believed you when you said you would only take a minute to get ready » your friend hanbin says
the both of you were currently heading towards the gymnasium, actually going to see the basketball match instead of changing your plans last minute like the both of you usually do
« what can I say? a lady must take her time upon preparing herself » you answer slightly shoving your friend as yes, technically he did have every right to complain but he had been doing so for the past half an hour.
« lady my ass, you still look just as ugly » your friend says as you gasp and before you could even respond, somebody had beat you to it
« y/n is not ugly how dare you say that » your friend jaemin (whom you had not seen) accompanied by his 5 friends greeted you
« yea listen to jaemin i am not ugly » you retorted as hanbin just rolled his eyes and sighed
« what brings you here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a game before » jisung asks, curious and lowkey surprised to see you in an athletic vicinity (the man did not think of you as highly athletic you presume)
« some guy tried to ask her out and since she wasn’t down he also asked me to go to the game with her so we’re here now » hanbin replies all too nonchalantly, you’re low key appalled at the twisted version of the events your friend is telling.
« that is quite literally not what happened, the guy you see over there just told me i should come to the game and invite hanbin too » you reply clarifying
« sooo, it’s exactly as hanbin described it » mark said.
you couldn’t have your man think that he has any competition when it comes to you (not that he cares anyway, this is very much a one sided relationship and you know it). but still, upon seeing the five other men nod you truly start to wonder if all of them are just collectively stupid because they’re men or if you’re the one that’s being dense
« OH! you’ll get to meet chenle, he’s been wanting to meet you for awhile- speak of the devil there he is! » your friend jaemin starts then waves at a man that is currently running towards all of you
« you guys actually came -» chenle starts before being cut off by hyuck « yea we did » . while all of the guys sigh and shake their heads you’re snickering as that is 100% a joke you could’ve made yourself, and meeting eyes with your friend hanbin that’s giving you a look that screams ‘this is a joke you could’ve made’ gives you all the reassurance you would need.
the loud noises erupting from the stadium managed to drown out the voices of the friend group in front of you. it isn’t until you hear your name being said that you realize not only where you are but who you’re with
« it’s good to meet you, i was feeling left out as i was the only one who hadn’t met you yet. I wish i could speak more but i need to go back to stretch a bit before the match, talk to you after? » chenle asks, to which you only nod before he scurries back to his team
that’s right, chenle IS a basketball player of course his friends would be there..
« cmon guys, let’s go sit » jeno hurries all of you as he wants to get good seats before ‘the fangirls arrive’ (you secretly thank god the man doesn’t know about your little mark obsession seeing how he feels towards the basketball groupies)
« dude what if during the game a basketball comes flying to your head and your man catches it going like ‘you alright’ tryna rizz you up just like the meme you posted on twitter yesterday » hanbin whispers, still all too loudly for your liking tho
« i beg of you to shut the fuck up the man is quite literally three people away from you » you whisper back slightly pinching his arm as he winces in pain.
you can’t have mark know about your delusions. ever.
and even though the seating system (hanbin, you, jaemin, jisung, mark, haechan and jeno) would make it difficult for mark to hear the whispers you share about him you don’t want to take any chances. you are practically surrounded by his friends after all.
and two hours later the match was done, chenle’s team winning of course and you were heading out when the guys stopped both you and hanbin
« we’re going to celebrate, not sure how yet but you guys wanna join? » jeno asks and hanbin agrees without even caring if you wanted to join them or not. when confronting him the only thing he replied was «what? we’ll probably get free food or drinks outta this, you should thank me ». the audacity of a bitch.
25. the game
previous chapter masterlist next chapter
notes: i'm back with another (written chapter) hope you guys don't mind the written bits cause there are more coming lol (also sorry to user @jising-jisang-jisung i really tried to make mark say it but i couldn't so.. sorry)
also to the anon that requested the jaehyun or huyk fic i am working on that i'm sorry to be so slow i'll try to publish it asap!
as always, requests/reaction/anything are open and appreciated!! hope you guys have/had a lovely day!
taglist (open): @imsiriuslyreal @iscocohere @simpforarmihn @replayenthusiast @lovm4rk @youreintheclubb @polarisjisung @sour-chaos @jising-jisang-jisung @aerivrs @multifandomania @tiddygang2020 @roseangelxfuma @skepvids @morkiee @yangasm @artstaeh @pussyslayerhd @bacons-thighs @bugcattie @leefullsun @jkslvsnella @alethea-moon @marvelahsobx @haechansbbg
#nct dream#mark lee#nct imagines#nct#renjun#kpop#mark smau#haechan#mark lee smau#nct dream texts#mark texts#mark x reader#mark imagines#nct drabbles#nct x reader#lee jeno#lee haechan#na jaemin#chenle#park jisung
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i've been thinking a lot about Suo and i need it to stop, so i wanna analyse him a little bit and say things into the void. normally i like to psychoanalyse characters in fics but i've seen that side of the fandom and i do NOT wanna go there, so i'm saving myself by pulling the same thing i did with Nanao ig.
disclaimer: this isn't necessarily a theory about his backstory as much as it is what i personally wanna see happen. see, if i were writing him, i'd do very specific things that could go in various directions, but since i am not, unfortunately, writing him and he's not my character to fuck with, all i can do is yap. which, also, probably won't be very eloquent.
manga spoilers for literally the whole manga up to date btw.
i don't think we won't be getting a backstory on him, to be honest. with a character like him, yeah, the mystery is part of the charm, and having this much anticipation can suck ass if once the secret gets revealed, it doesn't stick the landing. but i doubt Nii Satoru doesn't have something planned for him. why would bro be leaving Suo's room illustration out of the fanbook if there wasn't something there to talk about? what is in his room to talk about? but that's not what this is about.
anyway i'm gonna be so fr Suo's built like a dog. he's clearly full of shit, and yknow, that's fine, good for him, but there are things that are so painfully obvious he's just straight up lying about. after his fight with Kanuma, which is deadass the first time we see him fight, he says he "doesn't usually get so emotional," which ?? shut the fuck up? that's not true.
i know a liar when i see one. we've seen him fight five times? six if i wanna be generous; in three of those he got crazy emotional (Kanuma, keel, and Endo), and just a tiny bit miffed with the gymnast guy idr his name fuck that freak. which, listen, to be fair, if someone touched a single hair on Nirei's head in front of me, real me too i'd kill a guy. but look me in the eye lil bro don't lie to me. real talk, though, he was more than ready to kill the keel dude, and was going to. he wanted to. he was shaking while Sakura held him back, don't play with me. he wasn't gonna stop just cause someone was interjecting.
bro was itching to kill, side-eyeing Sakura, spitting snark cause how's the hot-headed mf who jumps head-first into a brawl without a second thought staying more rational than him, the rational one? Sakura's talking to him the same way i talk to my dog after she tries to kill my cat. i'm ngl my dog has better self-restraint than this kid. he also just straight up xd's his way out of it? like "oh whoopsies! mb gang! i was just feeling silly goofy! 🤪" like he forgets he's not supposed to glare at people with murder in his eyes.
speaking of murder! this is where i want him to have killed someone before Bofurin. he's, like, 15? so there's not much time to work with, but the same way Kaji was going feral at idk 8 years old, i can see a world in which Suo actually went overboard when he was a younger kid. (i'm not saying this is what things are pointing at, but i want this to be the case. i would do this myself.)
he is emotional, i don't think that's up for debate. i understand why he gets so emotional and i do think it's very noble and cool and swag of him, that's a good person, somewhat, he cares about his friends and it pisses him off when they get hurt. i fuck with that. that's great, get him an ice cream (if he even eats fucking weirdo). but why are we acting like "i am chill ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ" when, clearly, that's not true?
here's where his teacher comes in. for how much grief i'm giving him, i don't think he's all lies at all. i don't think him liking Nirei and Sakura enough to not only speak highly of them, but also fuck a guy up for them, is a lie. i think he is as kind as Umemiya describes him to be, cause honestly, if Umemiya says someone is kind, then they probably are.
i don't think this is necessarily fake as much as i think it's borrowed. it's learned behaviour. it's teachings passed down to him by his teacher. it's discipline. it's not something that comes naturally to him, but it is something a person he respects and looks up to taught him, so he tries to live by it. he's very clearly been disciplined, probably got beaten into the ground by his teacher, got his ass handed to him again and again and again until he sharpened his reflexes and learned how to control himself in a fight.
he talks a lot about adulthood, talks a lot about maturing, talks a lot about self-control and whatnot. which, by the way, this is a child? lil bro you're fifteen go play on your switch idk. but i'd like to think this comes from someone telling him, "hey, what you did was not okay. you have a lot of strength and you're not an animal. use it wisely so you can one day grow into a proper adult." solely cause i want him to have killed someone. that's all i want.
i think it would make sense, really. how funny would it be if he was living similarly to Sakura? i've seen people headcanon him as a rich kid, but he lies a lot, and i wouldn't put it past him to be living in a sad, lonely one-room apartment. there's a billion ways things could be done with him. maybe his parents didn't care to try disciplining him, maybe he grew up with no parents at all. he has a short fuse, that's easy to tell, even if he acts like he's got everything under control. it's a very Suzuri type of situation, so maybe it's not the direction Nii Satoru is gonna take things, but one can dream.
as for the eyepatch, i haven't really thought much about it. the way i see things, he's gotta come from a neglectful background, so losing an eye would make sense. or maybe he did it himself, i'd love to see that (i would do that with a character like this if he was mine). if his eye is even missing at all, cause all things considered, it might be sort of just a way to give himself a handicap to remind himself not to go overboard.
which, circling back to the self-restraint thing, i like to think that's the reason he doesn't really use much excessive force. not to say he doesn't kick and punch, cause lil bro packs a mean punch, but he doesn't gravitate to hitting people. he's usually using his opponent's weight and momentum against them, which is why i was decently surprised when i saw him grab the keel dude and wind back to bash his face in. he's not violent, until he lets go of what little self-restraint he has, and then he is. it's values and principles that come from someone else telling him how to behave, except he still struggles to hold himself back.
to put it in simple terms, if he were my character, this is what i would do. i'd have him kill someone by going overboard as a kid, have him be taken in by this teacher, have him disciplined and clean his act up by beating his ass, and then have him parrot all these teachings at people he meets later. cause that's essentially what he's doing, he's just repeating things someone else told him. what does bro know about being an adult he doesn't even pay taxes go do your trig homework. but he tries, and you can tell he's trying, even if it doesn't come natural, he cares about his friends and he cares about becoming a better person, he's just a little too quick to snap.
you know what i mean? he cares about Nirei in particular, he loves Nirei, he tries to learn from Nirei. (guys i love Nirei i wont shut the fuck up). but fr, he's got that Nanao complex where he instigates things or sets things into motion and doesn't quite participate. he watches from the back, for better or for worse, but he doesn't necessarily involve himself in things. he keeps a distance. he feels like the other side to Sakura's coin sometimes, learning about people and how warm they actually are. he's all prim and proper and nonchalant, but he recognises he's no match for Sakura and maybe even Nirei. after all, it's always Nirei the one grabbing both of them by the arm and dragging them places.
he talks so big and maturely about not meddling too much with people who can't quite handle friendship yet, and then goes "!" when Nirei tells him "? fuck are you talking about? that's the more reason to teach Sakura about friendship." it's the look on his face after Nirei, despite Suo's long-winded and logical argument, goes to Kotoha and insists they help Sakura anyway. he's learning from Nirei too. also Nirei's crazy endearing so real me too but that's beside the point.
i don't think these parts of him are fake, but they might just be artificial. he's still integrating them into his own person and making them his, but he still slips here and there. he's not quite there yet. i hope he killed someone when he was 8yo. that's all thank you for reading thumbsup
#wind breaker#hayato suo#nirei akihiko#me when nanao has nothing to do with wind breaker but i still find a way to bring him up#real talk tho um ?#idk suos a little weirdo#excited to see what nii satoru does with him#knock knock sensei let me in i have ideas!!#i love nirei so much you dont understand#kids get behind me ill fight these mfs for you#if this doesnt make sense then idk skill issue or smth
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Hi! Hello! Welcome to Tokyo debunker fandom! I just saw your post abt sharing or asking for ideas , so if it was not an ask feel free to ignore it !
My biggest frustration is MC especially the vagastorme ep (I donthqte Leo because he's Leo I hate him cause th game wouldn't let me answer to him the way I wanttt ugh)
. I get that Devs are attempting a character fits all approach (would have been better if we had more choices for types of Players but alas)
My ask is: what type of what kind of personality would each of the characters be drawn into? For current MC I think she'd be more compatible with Mido,rui , Haku ,subaru,luca ...aka guys with more patience for the more tough guys ot's eother gonna be bery slow burn as in cooking on a candle kinda slow cause she needs to be more assertive (not the stubborn , angry kinda assertive , but the stop your attitude kinda assertive ) what do you think?
Also welcome again to he fandom! May you get the characters you want (I'm still trying to get Haku but no success 😭)
Hi Anon! Thank you for your request (and the official welcome to the fandom)! I had to break this one up into a few different posts separating the characters into their houses but I'll link them all here. I hope you like the headcanons!
What's Your Type? - Frostheim Edition
Fandom: Tokyo Debunker
Characters: Jin Kamurai, Thoma Ishibashi, Lucas Errant, Kaito Fuji x gn! Reader
Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken
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What sort of personality are the characters drawn to?
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Jin is drawn to someone with a strong enough personality that they can withstand his abrasive nature. Someone with a backbone.
At the same time, he doesn’t mind people who will do what he tells them to, no questions asked. Sometimes following orders on a dime is a matter of life and death.
He’s drawn to people who have high self esteem and good self confidence. Jin can be rough with his words sometimes and his partner needs to be able to withstand that to a certain extent.
I think he would also be drawn to someone who knows what they want in life and is willing to work for it. It would be nice if they weren’t afraid to ask for help from him on occasion as well. It makes him feel needed and wanted.
Thoma is drawn to hard workers. He’s got a busy life himself so he needs someone who’s used to a fast paced day.
He also needs someone loyal and passionate in his life. He seems to have a lot of conflicting loyalties, including loyalty to himself so he needs to be able to trust whoever he’s in a relationship with.
I can see him being drawn to someone who is quick witted and has some degree of intelligence. Whether it’s book smarts or street smarts, he doesn’t have a preference, just so long as they’re able to demonstrate intelligence.
He would also be drawn to someone who is observant and empathetic. Someone who can recognise the signs of burnout and give him a helping hand when it's needed.
Luca’s a tricky one. I see him as someone who falls for someone slowly based on their personality and actions rather than seeing a few things and being drawn to someone.
I do see him being drawn to loyalty and honesty. These are both traits he values highly in himself and others so it’s necessary that his romantic partner has them as well.
Luca would also be drawn to people who speak their mind. He’s not the best at social cues so being with someone who can say how they’re feeling clearly means a lot to him.
A mothering personality would also attract Luca. He’s a bit of a mum friend himself but it’s nice being on the receiving end sometimes.
Okay, we’ve got to address the elephant in the room for this one. Kaito is definitely going to be drawn to appearance initially. If you’re conventionally attractive, he’s going to be fawning over you.
Personality wise, he’d be attracted to someone who enjoys having fun. As long as that fun’s not life threatening, he’s happy to tag along and have some fun too.
I see Kaito as someone who would also be drawn to someone who has a lot of energy. He’s got the reserves to keep up and he enjoys seeing people making the most of life.
Kindness is another thing that draws Kaito to people. If you’ve got a soft heart, he’ll find himself wanting to make sure he’s the person you think of most fondly.
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Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.
ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms
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#writing#fanfic#headcanons#headcanon request#request#tokyo debunker#tokyo debunker x reader#jin kamurai#jin kamurai x reader#thoma ishibashi#thoma ishibashi x reader#lucas errant#lucas errant x reader#kaito fuji#kaito fuji x reader
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SPY × Family: Chapter 93 analysis
this is my first time doing something like this, and I'm no expert so please take my analysis with a grain of salt! all of this is my own theories, so you might disagree with me. please don't be mean, though (also, long post incoming!)
SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 93 UNDER THE CUT
The chapter opens with the Eden kids getting the results of their marks, with Anya's...
overall rank shooting up, from 213th to 168th. Showing how she's slowly adjusting to the school and its pace of learning, despite being younger than everyone else (and, also, presumably doing extremely advanced things.... I remember seeing the pythagorean theorem on the board once in the anime)
Damian got highest in History (good job, buddy!), and Anya got second-highest in Classical Language (the one exam she genuinely studied hard for). But what I want to focus on is her expression:
Shock. She'd put up that front (that fake-face, if you will) in front of Becky, Damian, Emile and Ewen, pretending to be all cool and suave but when she sees her results, she's genuinely surprised to get good marks in Classical Language. And even her excited reaction. She was scared of disappointing Twilight (and maybe even Sigmund and Barbara) because she'd genuinely worked hard for this exam, tried to understand, and gave it her best attempt.
But, then, it all comes crashing down with her 24 points in math: but a win is a win!
Maybe this is Twilight's turning point in the fact that acquiring knowledge can be interesting, exciting, and not just a tool of survival? Twilight himself doesn't have a great relationship with studying, (see: his father scolding him as a child for not studying, later: his friends dying because he didn't know enough about the campaign they were going on... but Twilight's relationship with knowledge and its pursuit is a whole other post in itself).
Honestly, him realising that Anya is actually thriving in the setup where education is fun for her, opens up two new avenues:
Twilight himself trying to make learning fun for Anya (unlikely, he tried that before... it didn't work.)
Him leaning on Sigmund and Barbara to tutor Anya (this seems more likely- Endo is probably going to cement the Authens as recurring characters, so them being Anya's surrogate grandparents/neighbors/tutors would seem like a great way to do so!
And then...
My main focus is on the fact that he mumbles this (also his face. But that's irrelevant). Twilight may claim, "I don't understand children", but he's an extremely perceptive man. As much as I love to clown on him, he's highly skilled at picking up on cues of people's feelings. The few times he's failed are mostly due to Anya's shenanigans trying to hide her telepathy, mixed with his usual flavour of overthinking.
But the couple of things he knows about Anya are this:
She was probably raised in an environment where Classical Language was used.
She's not fond of talking about or remembering her past.
Which is why he didn't have the heart to fully sound out the question. In the case of Anya, this is an extremely delicate matter, and he doesn't want to upset her (or, in his words, "ruin Operation Strix.") The way he asked the question and it's portrayed made it feel like he'd been pondering on it for quite a while (which he has; since the beginning of the Cruise Arc), but more so usually. Most likely due to her high marks in the Classical Language tests (aka a dead language), and the fact that she got excellent marks in it, despite formally studying it for less than a year (at least, as far as he (and we) know.) He's been thinking of the possibility, and also thinking of a way to ask her. In the end, when he does ask her—
she lies.
and he lets her. (at least, that's my interpretation)
Obviously, he knows she's not ready to speak about it yet (though we know it's probably connected to her telepathy, so she's not ready to divulge that info).
Look, as much as I love talking about how clueless he is with his own feelings, in this scene, he was just... perceptive? I don't know if that's the right word. But he was trying to keep Anya happy, and bringing up this complex topic without ensuring proper care for her wouldn't be fair to her. And he knows that. So, he leaves it at, "Just forget about it, okay?"
This entire scene felt so... tense, and in itself felt like a fucking gut punch, so I don't know how I'll react to the reveal.)
And now, onto the main focus of the chapter:
him.
If I'm being honest, I thought Demetrius was, like, 16-19 (judging by his voice in the anime), and not... fucking twelve.
Honestly, that just makes his character all the more tragic: he's barely a teenager, and yet... he's going through this. From his awards ceremony, we can see that he got, what, 6 stellas? In addition to the eight he's gotten to be an Imperial Scholar, and if he performs this well in every exam... bro is literally hoarding the Stella supply of the school (sorry, bad joke).
But...
this panel comes up. It's definitely not Anya's telepathy malfunctioning, (heck, it works on Bond and even penguins). Honestly, I think, again, it could be one of two things:
He was experimented on, like Anya
He was trained, (most likely by Donovan), to keep his mind blank.
We're told that he and Donovan had an extremely close relationship:
This could be in support of both the theories: it could be Donovan checking up on his "experiment's" progress (a crude term to refer to him), or, it could have been him subconsciously training Demetrius to hide his thoughts, keep them safe. Anya's project is connected to Desmond's administration, and at the time she was "made", Demetrius would have been around 7 or 8. Old enough for him to figure out what he wanted to have been in life (ofc, that's different for everyone! It takes time, and 8 is an extremely young age to figure out what one wants to do). But, like, how Damian wants to be a politician, it's most likely that Demetrius, the prodigal, studious, first child, would have to follow the path of politics laid before him.
So it could have been Donovan teaching Demetrius to protect his sensitive thoughts from the "weapons" he himself was making: the test subject(s) of Anya's project (again, a crude term to refer to them). Donovan was putting a lot of faith into creating telepaths (most likely for covert work), and them having unwavering loyalty to his administration was not very likely.
And, even if Anya's project was the work of another administration or even country, there's no doubt that Donovan would want to keep his thoughts hidden from these kinds of spies: ones than can see into your very mind, especially if the world is at war: a physical battle or a war for information.
The first theory of Demetrius himself being a test subject is probably Not What Happened; so I think it's probably just Demetrius being trained to keep his thoughts hidden.
But then, we get some of his thoughts:
Which is a lot reminiscent of:
So, it's probable that Demetrius imbibed this from his dad.
It's honestly a bit scary to see how Donovan's "parenting" has affected him: for him, age 12, to be like this.
After this, the chapter ends lightheartedly: Anya trying to emulate Demetrius, and Loid Being Tired™️.
I'm mostly curious about Demetrius: I was so excited when he was finally revealed! But I hope we get to see more of his thoughts, soon. Especially more about his relationship with Damian. But, this chapter was fantastic!
(This was super fun to do- if i do posts like this for chapters as they come out, would you all like it? Again, I'm not an expert in psychology (or even analysis). It's just me and my silly lil thoughts. I hope you liked it!)
#spy x family#spy x family manga#spy x family manga spoilers#spy x family chapter 93#loid forger#spy x family chapter 93 spoilers#agent twilight#twilight#anya forger#subject 007#sigmund authen#barbara authen#donovan desmond#demetrius desmond#damian desmond
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Hiyori Reader and please? She’s Qin Shi Huang, Hades, Hercules and Apollo’s wife and has just as much confidence and authority as an Empress/Queen as well as for being the Daughter of a Shogun, her father Oden, espite that she’s actually a caring, kind and gentle woman with her Husband, the man who won over her heart (As he didn’t see her as an object but instead a person)
Reader is good friends with Aphrodite and loves to play her music for Shiva as he became a fan of her father’s and likes to dance to her music
She and (Love) keep their marriage a secret as they don’t want attention
However when an arrogant god has been abusing others, mainly humans, well as repeatedly tried to hit on her for her beauty and trying to make her marry him, she’s had enough especially when he insulted her father Oden for being a ‘Fool’ and harmed him with a divine tool and after she slapped him
“I’m the Shogun’s Daughter, I am Y/N, when you speak to me, mind your tongue!! Even when I was starving, even when I was dressed in rags, I carried with me the honor that my father brought to our name! You have never been a proper god a day in your life! You’re nothing but a thief! An imposter! You’re a lowly worm and a coward!! And the longer you live your pathetic excuse of a life the more innocent people die!!”
I love how much of a queen Hiyori is and her speech to Orochi gave me CHILLS
-You were a stunning beauty- one that so many in Valhalla admired and worshipped- your stunning beauty and grace was known to rival even Aphrodite’s- who wasn’t bothered, as she was a good friend of yours.
-Your beauty was something natural, your parents blessing you with your mother’s looks, but your father’s heart- as you were a proud woman, always willing to help those who needed it the most.
-That’s another reason so many admired you- for your kind and gentle heart- you were especially popular with the kids, who loved to come and see you, listening to your music or watching you dance.
-You had many friends in Valhalla, not just Aphrodite, many warriors found themselves drawn to you- they could sense you were more powerful than you let on, but you were very careful not to reveal any of your secrets.
-Shiva and Rudra loved to listen to your music, as they would dance, showing you unique dancing that you had never seen, and in exchange you would show them and others in the Hindu Pantheon your own dancing, which was something they had yet to experience, but they loved it.
-While adored and loved by all, but when others would come confessing their love to you- you would tell them that you were already married, and happily so. Many were distraught to learn this, but you never said to who.
-Only a small handful of people knew who you were married to- as you and (Love) kept it quiet, mainly because the two of you didn’t want to deal with the headaches, as he was also highly desired by others in Valhalla.
-The way you carried yourself was a good hint, as you carried yourself like an empress, someone of great power- but that was only part of it- as you were the daughter of a Shogun, and you wouldn’t let anyone forget it.
-You were at a party in the Hindu Pantheon, your husband was there as well, as it was a gathering of humans and gods- the warriors from Ragnarok. Shiva had asked you to play some of your music, which you were happy to do.
-Your angelic smile caught the attention of many as you played, putting your heart and soul into your music, something that (Love) couldn’t help but smile over- you were so passionate.
-When you were done playing for the moment, so you could take a small break and get something to drink, you flashed a small smile towards (Love) who was across the room.
-You then heard a familiar voice, and you groaned softly internally, hearing the voice of Kand, a cocky god who wasn’t taking your rejections with grace- he didn’t believe that you were married, thinking you were just saying that to keep others away, and that you were just shy!
-He quickly approached, asking you, loudly, to marry him again. Everything went silent- seeing the proposal and Shiva sent a worried glance over at (Love), as he was one of the few who knew who you were married to- he was all for brawls- but he didn’t really want one at today’s party.
-Your voice was firm, as were your eyes, “I am not interested.” Your constant rejections were annoying him- he was willing to give you a chance, because you were a human, because you were beautiful- but you were being so stuck up about it!!
-He glared hard, “Get off your high horse Y/N- you’re nobody special so I don’t know why you are walking around here like you own the place- that loser of a father of yours lost his title when he was killed so you can just-”
-The moment he mentioned your father, you saw red and SLAP!!!!
-The slap echoed around the party, stunning everyone into silence again as he was sent spinning before falling to his knees, his ears ringing as you glared harshly down at him, “I am the Shogun’s daughter- I am Y/N! When you speak to me, mind your tongue! Even when I was starving, even when I was dressed in rags, I carried with me the honor that my father brought to our name! You have never been a proper god a day in your life! You’re nothing but a thief! An imposter! You’re a lowly worm and a coward!! And the longer you live your pathetic excuse of a life- the more innocent people die!!”
-Your speech was so passionate that so many were staring at you in awe as he finally managed to stand, furious that you had struck him, “How dare you-”
-He was cut off when you took a step forward, then another, “Don’t like it- then cut me down! I won’t stop when I know I am right- I am a samurai’s daughter. I will not live in disgrace!”
-A hand clapped down on your shoulder, and you turned to see (Love) there, looking quite unlike himself, as he was furious looking, making Kand fold in on himself, before he spoke, “I don’t take kindly to others speaking so rudely to my wife- worm. Get lost.”
-Many were surprised that (Love) outed the two of you as a couple, but you weren’t bothered, you were going to stand by your husband’s decision as the two of you looked like such a power couple together as Kand was quick to rush out of the party.
-Everything was silent for a moment, before loud cheers filled the room, surprising you as Shiva cheered, happy that you two finally announced yourselves publicly.
-You smiled demurely, cupping your cheek as the party got started again.
-He turned to you, taking your hand in his own, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself with such a powerful slap, “Are you alright, Y/N?” you just smiled, taking your hand back, not looking at all bothered, “I am- it hurts but I am not bothered.” He smiled softly, seeing your strength as he pecked your forehead softly- he knew that you could handle yourself with ease.
-Hercules and Hades
-Held your hand softly, massaging it once the two of you were sitting again, “I can’t believe that bastard tried to take you away from me!” you just laughed softly, seeing him jealous as you reached up, cupping his cheek gently, “He would never have me- not while you still live. And even then- I would chose death first before being with such a man.” He beamed at your praise, pecking your cheek softly, making you smile.
-Qin Shi Huang and Apollo
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Starting over | Part 16
Materlist
Summary: With Jake and Bradley deployed y/n can't help herself but count the days when they're finally back home. But when mysterious messages appear on her phone and a sleazy guy gets a bit too close to her she once more realize how her safety depends on the both pilots she dearly loves. Thank God she has a safety net and friends at base.
Trigger Warnings: 18+! Minors DNI! past abusive relationship, reader has health issues (migraine, kidney), throwing up, previous assault, blood, obstrusive man, poly relationship
A/N: It gets angsty! Please tell me if you like it and rebelog my little story. Thank you for the support :)
Word Count: 3.9k +
The day of Jake and Bradley’s departure came quicker than the three of them anticipated. Y/n wasn’t able to sleep that night, tossing and turning, changing her position ever so often, touching her lovers to memorize every inch of their bodies.
And now standing in the kitchen watching both pilots taking their bags into the trunk of Jake’s truck the whole situation is sinking in. She will be alone for the next two weeks, maybe longer.
Since she left the hospital after surviving the last attack of her boyfriend and the mayor operation marathon she endured to save her kidney she wasn’t alone. She lived for some weeks with the family of her former boss and after her physiotherapy she moved to Miramar immediately living with Rooster and Hangman. It would be a lie to say that she isn’t afraid to be on her own. She fears the lonely nights, laying in the dark alone with her thoughts and memories with no one there to hold her after a nightmare or to hold her in general. While drinking her coffee she gives herself a pep talk for the upcoming farewell. ‘Don’t let on anything. You’re a grown up woman. You can do this. They’re highly decorated Navy aviators, you can’t burden them with your fears shortly before their departure.’
---
“And if there’s a problem…anything you need help with… Mav is there, you can call him or Penny anytime! Bob also said that he can come over if you need someone…”
“Jakey, slow down. I’m not a child…” Y/n tries to calm the blonde pilot down. But he just interrupts her attempt to lighten the mood. “Of course you’re not. But imagine you feeling sick or what if you pass out because of a migraine or your kidney acting up…y/n, we’re just worried. And with limited phone reception on the carrier we would feel better when we know that you will call Bob, Coyote, Penny or Mav. Please baby.” Jake looks deep into her eyes, she sees the worry in them. She is also worried but tries her hardest to hide it in front of them.
She feels Bradley enveloping her with his muscular arms behind so that she’s now fully secured between the two men.
“What Jake wanted to say is: We love you, princess.” He speaks softly into her ear his warm breath making her shudder.
“But we have to go now. Otherwise the Admiral will have our asses for being too late for the departure.”
The two men once more tighten their hug kissing the smaller woman passionately.
She watches Jake’s truck disappearing down the street. She stands there in the driveway for some more minutes until the cold wind produces goosebumps on her entire body and her body starts to shiver form the cold and from the loneliness which slowly settles into her heart. She smells the lingering odor of both her boyfriends on her skin. She loves when their aftershaves mix up into a fully new smell and when she can smell it on her own skin after they cuddled. The delicious sore feeling from their intense night together lets her lips form into a soft smile. She’s not lonely they’re still here with every breath and step she takes in their shared home. They will be back and then their relationship will be just as strong as before or even stronger. With a heavy heart but a small smile on her lips she closes the front door behind her soaking into the warmth of the cozy house.
A cup of tea sounds like a good idea to calm her nerves. Standing on her tip toes to reach her favorite cup a small sticky note on the inside of the cupboard door attracts her attention.
A huge smile is spreading over her face, she takes the sticky note from the cardboard door and sticks it on the coffee maker, that way she can always read the note and admire the accurate handwriting of Bradley. She’s the luckiest woman on earth, finally.
You probably are trying to reach one of the cups, standing on your tip toes stretching out your right arm. Usually one of us would come to your aid or to tease you. Enveloping you in our arms, kissing the top of your head, inhaling your intoxicating scent.
We love you <3 JB
---
Her first day back at the base after her short sick leave and her boys leaving was better than she expected. Her day was busy and with Bob bringing her a cup of steaming hot coffee in the morning just the way she likes it and how Rooster would’ve done it she was able to stay alert and awake during a long video call with a software company. But to be honest she nearly hasn’t slept that night. Her brain was a spiraling mess, thinking of Bradley and Rooster, but she was also nervous to run into Welsh at base. After their encounter the other day when he had to take her home, his slimy hand touching her arm and his inappropriate comment in the car, she doesn’t want to see him let alone run into him alone.
Now sipping her second coffee in the late morning she wonders if her two boyfriends had a similar hard night, at least they have themselves. Her vibrating mobile is bringing her out her daydream. When she looks at the display a bright smile forms on her face.
Jakey: Hello love, we’re about to leave the coastland to start with the flight training. Soon there will be no phone reception. We just wanted to make sure you’re ok. We love you.
Her smile grows brighter when she looks at the attached photo Jake sent her. The blonde and the brunette aviator in their flight suits smiling at her, in the background nothing but the endless blue sea.
Y/n: You two look really stunning. I’m so proud of my two Navy men <3 Everything is good back home. Please just come back in one piece, I need you. Both! I love you. Please tell Roo-y I love him, too. Take care. I think of you!
Jakey: Roo-y says he loves you, too! Take care yourself. In case you need anything, call Penny, Mav or the two idiots that stayed back at the base :-P we have to go. Love you so much!
A loud knock is startling her, shouting a small ‘come in’ she is greeted by the last person she wants to see right now, especially when she’s alone in her office. What does he want from her? She puts her mobile away, not risking that this sleazy guy sees the adorable selfie of Hangman and Rooster on her phone.
“Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes. You feeling better, y/n? This migraine must’ve hit you hard.” Welsh voice makes her shudder which doesn’t go unnoticed by the taller man, perfectly noticing how the woman in front of him shrinks further into her chair as if she wants to hide herself behind her big wooden desk.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” She talks in a small voice.
“Good, good. Finally you have this big and cozy house for yourself, with Rooster and Hangman deployed. I bet the first night was a huge relief.” Welsh asks in an amused tone. Of course the first night was far away from a relief. At first y/n tried to settle down in her own bed but after tossing and turning she wandered into Jake’s bedroom to grad his pillow and went straight into Bradley’s bedroom to sleep in his bed with Jake’s pillow in her arms. That way she could be near both of them. Their familiar scents united created a small feeling of safety in the dark and lonely night.
What does he want to hear from her? She tries to gather her thoughts not to show this man any weakness. But before she can form a suitable answer she’s saved by the bell.
“Hey y/n. You ready for lunch?” She hears Javy’s voice before she can see him enter her office.
“Welsh. What ya doin’ here? Mav is looking for ya…” Javy’s voice immediately changes from friendly to professional and even colder as he looks at the man towering over y/n’s desk.
Daniel straightens his posture but before he turns around to leave the younger woman’s office he winks at her and lowers his voice. “See you later, darling.” Too hushed to be heard by Javy but loud enough for y/n to hear.
She gulps at his words. He has this dangerous aura she’s more than familiar with thanks to her ex.
Javy steps into Welsh’s way bumping slightly into his shoulder. “Keep track of your own appointments, Lieutenant. We’re not your secretary.”
“Yes, Lieutenant Commander.” Welsh replies in an annoyed tone but formal when Coyote pulled ranks.
---
Y/n’s lunch date with Bob and Javy really helped to get her nerves under control after Welsh’s performance in her office today. She just hoped that the two didn’t notice how she played with her food, just shoving it on her plate from left to right. She didn’t build a huge appetite with her boyfriends away and the dreading prospect of coming back to an empty home later that day.
Now utterly exhausted she’s sitting on the huge couch snuggled under the cozy blanket Jake bought for her last Christmas, reading the second note which she found in the snack drawer where Bradley stored his favorite protein bars. Not on the mood to cook something she was in search of something to munch on while lounging on the couch.
On the verge of falling asleep her vibrating mobile gains her attention. She really hopes for another message from her boys but that was likely unrealistic with them in the middle of the Pacific.
I knew you would steeal my banana protein bars in our absence :-P What have I done to deserve two little thieves.
I love u.
Jake says eat as much protein bars as you can. Love <3 JB
She grabs the device from the coffee table curious who would’ve texted her that late in the evening.
The message from an unknown number makes her frown.
Unknown: You looked so hot today in your cute office outfit. You should wear that tight skirt more often.
Her hands begin to tremble that must be a mistake. Who would text her something like that? The person on the other end probably made a mistake while typing in the number and now she got that message accidently. Just as she wants to put her phone away and get ready for another lonely night in Bradley’s bed her mobile chirps with another incoming message.
Unknown: Didn’t think of you as a classic car kind of girl. But that Bronco looks good on you.
The last straw that the message could’ve been a mistake is brutally cut when she reads the next one. Bradley left her his beloved Bronco so she can drive to base and get grocery shopping or whatever she wants to do safely and doesn’t have to rely on Bob or Javy to drive her. At first she was hesitant to drive his beloved car but Bradley told her more than once that he insists that she drives his Bronco and he made it more than clear that he trusts her with his baby.
Panic bubbles in chest. Someone watches her, the person saw her in the Bronco driving home or to the base, saw her outfit. Is this person watching her now? Hiding in the dark? She jumps up from her position on the couch and hurries to the front door checking the locks. They’re closed, thank God. She closed all curtains in every room and when she finally crawls into Bradley’s bed, after she even locked the bedroom door, she can’t hold back her tears anymore. She is afraid, more than that. She’s terrified.
---
Y/n wakes up with a jolt. The bedroom pitch black and her eyes need some time to adjust and make out the familiar furniture. What woke her up in the middle of the night? But before she can wonder any further the door knob jiggles. Someone is trying to enter the bedroom.
“Y/n, come on open the door, I know that you’re in there.”
She knows that voice. No, no, no, that can’t be true. He can’t be in their house, not now.
Frantically she searches for some kind of weapon to defend herself. But when she turns around to look at the bedroom door he’s already inside the room.
"I'm here to take you home, silly girl." His dark eyes nothing but dangerous and filled with hate. She got so used to the warm love filled eyes of Jake and Bradley. But the ones that are piercing her now are cold and she knows that look, it's full of rage.
How did he get past the safety locks at the front door and how did he even open the lock of the bedroom door? She feels like his prey sitting in a trap. His body fills the doorframe, blocking her only way out of the room. On trembling legs y/n backs off but there's nowhere to go for her. He finally gets what he wants, either he kills her right there or he takes her back to their hometown. If she has the choice she would choose death over going back with him. But she has no choice, never had. He once more has her life in his hand.
"You not only cheated with one but with two men? Y/n, that's not how I taught you to behave. You should know what treatment sluts like you deserve." He takes a step closer to the trembling woman. A shimmering object in his right hand attracts her attention. It's a knife, a huge kitchen knife. It's the same knife he attacked her with back home, still bloody. Thick droplets of blood are dripping from the blade on the hardwood floor.
A loud scream echoes trough the bedroom the young woman feels herself shaking like a leaf, drenched in sweat, sheets tangled around her body. All she hears is the blood rushing in her ears. Her heart nearly beating out of her chest. Her lungs seem to refuse to work, like someone is crushing her ribcage. Spots are dancing in her vision and she knows she has to try to take prober breaths otherwise she is going to pass out from oxygen deprivation. The small woman fists one of the pillows in her shaking hands in an attempt to ground herself. She has to overcome this panic attack alone, but her thoughts are with Bradley and Jake, thinking about their happy times, smiling and laughing. Their beautiful laughs, their calming touches, their words of endearment. Y/n doesn't know how long it took her to finally be calm enough to take her first steady breath. The first thing she hears is her alarm annoyingly blaring, signaling her it's time to get up. It's already morning, thank God. Going back to sleep seems so far away after this nightmare that she's somewhat relieved that it's already time to get ready and head to work. With her still trembling hands she shuts the alarm off, but as she sees an unread message her breathing picks up one more time.
A sigh of relief tumbles out of her mouth when she reads the sender of the message.
Bobby: Hey y/n, sorry I forgot to ask you earlier. Coyote and I want to hit the Hard Deck after work, I can fetch you in the morning, in that case you don't have to drive tomorrow to work and to the Hard Deck. I would be at your place at 0715.
---
When she is finally buckled in Bob's car it's the first time she can breathe a bit better, feeling a bit safer in the presence of a Navy Lieutenant and friend.
A soft 'good morning' fills the car, not trusting her voice to speak more words after screaming bloody murder an hour ago. She still feels a slight tremble in her hands. Not only the dream has her so shaken up but the messages from that unknown number make her even more uneasy. Who's watching her? It can't be her ex. He doesn't know where she lives now. And he is still in prison, isn't he?
"Y/n? Everything okay?" Bob turns in his seat to take a proper look at her.
His soft voice brings her out of her thoughts.
"Ehm, yes. Sure. Everything's fine." She tries to talk as calm and collected as she can, not wanting to alert the good-natured aviator in the driver seat.
"You sure? I said your name like ten times." He once more takes a look at her, noticing her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes.
"Sorry, I'm just tired, Bobby. Nothing serious, pinky promise." She hates to lie at her friend, hell she hates to lie in general. But her need to not make a fuss, to not burden other people with her problems is often bigger than her need to be honest.
For now Bob let's her excuse pass but he will keep a close eye on her, even more than usual.
---
Sipping her favorite drink y/n feels a bit better than hours ago in the morning after her nightmare. Bob and Javy are always good company and so far she liked the distraction of her two friends and the hustle and bustle of the packed bar. But without the other aviators, especially without her two boyfriends, there's definitely a huge part missing.
"I'm still wondering how you do it, sunshine." Javy spoke over the music and the loud voices in the packed bar, bringing y/n out of her revive.
A curious frown is splayed on the young woman's face.
"I mean, you really brought some peace and quiet into our squad. Since you're living with Hangman and Roo, their constant bickering and dick-measuring contests nearly stopped."
Y/n can't hold the amused laugh that tumbles out of her mouth. "Javy, watch your mouth." She playfully hit the taller pilot on his arm. But he is right, since the young woman lives with the two men their behavior somewhat changed drastically. Of course the hostility they had during the fateful uranium mission was long gone before y/n stepped into their life, but obviously their friendship deepened in a special way since the shy woman is part of the group. The other aviators surely didn't miss the huge protectiveness Jake and Bradley have over their new addition, y/n just fits in perfectly in the Bradshaw/Seresin household. Y/n wonders if Javy wants to imply that he supposes that three of them are now in a relationship. Until now the three kept their love life a secret, well except for Natasha who gave the last shove in the right direction.
"Hey, got a strong right hook, y/n." The dark haired man rubs his arm as if she hurt him really bad.
"What this moron wanted to say is, you're good for them." Bob barges in looking intensively at the now blushing woman.
"Thanks, I guess?" She says slightly uncertain. "They're the best that ever happened to me. You all are…" Y/n admits in nothing more than a whisper.
Bob puts his larger hand on her right one which is placed on the table beside her now empty glass. When he softly squeezes her hand he adds a quiet 'we support you, no matter what'.
Her heart skips a beat, so they all seem somehow to know or feel that Jake, Bradley and y/n are more than just roommates or friends and with Bob and Javy's promise of support a huge load is taken off her mind.
---
"So, another Root Beer for you, what can I get you, sunshine?" Javy asks as he was about to stand up and head to the bar to get them all a refill.
"Oh no, let me. It's my turn. A Root Beer and a Miller?!" Y/n puts her hand on the taller pilot's shoulder to keep him in his seat and makes her way to the restrooms before she is going to order another round of drinks for herself and her two friends at the back of the bar.
Deep in thought she steps out of the ladies' room bumping into a tall figure making her stumble back. Two strong hands grip her shoulders uncomfortably tight but keeping her from falling flat on her ass.
"Wow, look what the cat dragged in. Y/n, nice to see you." She immediately recognizes the sickly sweet with a hint of evil voice.
"H - hello, Sir." She stammers feeling more and more uneasy the longer she feels the two strong hands grip her upper arms.
"Y/n, we're already beyond the formalities and we're not on base. It's Daniel for you." Welsh winks and twists his lips into a daunting grimace.
Y/n feels her heartrate picking up, she doesn't like this guy and being alone with him is only adding up her anxiety. She tries to wiggle out his strong hold but he doesn't budge, cornering her in the hallway of the restrooms.
"Looking cozy with Bob and Coyote, with your two guard dogs deployed." Welsh strokes both his thumbs over her upper arms, sending a shiver of disgust over the smaller woman's spine.
"We - we just having some drinks." Finally able to wiggle herself free of the uncomfortable hold she takes a step back, the need to extend the distance to the dangerous looking man in front of her is growing every second he looks hungrily at her.
"I knew you have a thing for pilots." The man takes a step and strokes once more one of her arms. Panic bubbles up in y/n's chest, she doesn't like to be touched by strangers and this is much worse than just some physical contact in a crowded bar. He corners her and definitely knows what he's doing. Her body starts to tremble and her chest feels too tight to breathe comfortably.
"Everything okay here?" Y/n hears a familiar voice but Welsh is still blocking her view.
"Yeah, everything's good, Captain." Welsh takes a step back as he feels a hand touching his shoulder, turning him around slightly. Y/n takes a sigh of relief. Thank God for Maverick making an entrance. The smaller man is taking a close look at the young woman in front of him. He can see her distress with the taller man in front of her, towering dangerously over her smaller frame. His presence alone is enough to make Welsh leaving the situation and the small hall to the restrooms.
"Are you okay, y/n? Did he - ehm…did he make you uncomfortable?" What Maverick really wanted to ask is if that prick touched her or made inappropriate comments, but he put a bridle on his tongue, not wanting to make the shy woman in front of him more uncomfortable.
"No, no… sorry I was on my way to the ladies' room." And with that she turns around in a hurry disappearing in the restroom. Her intention to get a new round of drinks long forgotten she rushes into one of the stalls falling onto her knees just in time to throw up the small contents of her stomach.
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