#proper tags TBA

[82mitsu]

{18Trip} The Homescreen Voice Lines Vault

Collection of all the voice lines I have translated on my Twitter account. Uploading it on here for archival purposes.

Note: A lot of them were made to fit the Twitter character limit, sometimes they're a bit freestyled.

Mostly Raito oriented, with some others thrown in the mix.

Chihiro: Raiting, you spend a lot of time watching vids, don'tcha~ What channels got you hooked?

Raito: Let me see, channels all about information over ramen and the occult stuff like Muu☆Tan's are vital to me.

Raito: Kuguri, you can do what you want but, have you considered to stop sleeping naked from time to time? No doubt you'll catch a cold.

Kuguri: I'd prefer for you to leave me be. A certain Someone who can't properly wake up in the morning has no right to police others on how they sleep.

Raito: According to this scripture of taboos that I procured on my own, it appears that Pandora's Box will open up again soon. The theory of hope remaining at the bottom is plausible but, let's just wait and see...

Akuta: Uugh... I can't... I can't go on like this anymore.... Raito-san, please do the usual thing again tonight!!

Raito: A hopeless guy, aren't you... Got it, I'll take care of you. I will... feed you the best late night ramen that there is.

Netaro: Raito~! Trouble's afoot! There's hearsay of a unfamiliar flickering luminant body appearing behind the dormitory~!

Raito: What!? An unidentified flying object, in other words!? We must unravel its true identity! Let's go right away, Netaro!

Kuguri: Sometimes Nanaki looks at me cutely and pleads for advice on composing music. Well, my involvement is limited to hearing him out and giving a nudge, however.

Kuguri: I don't disagree with your way of living, Ten... It smells sweet, exclusively so. How about we go on a drive together again sometime.

Ten: Aha, it's an honor to get invited by someone like Kuguri-san~ I don't mind the kinda relations where you stay outta each others affairs either.

Chihiro: Geez~! Taotao, you play Anigun way too much! Didn't you like promise you'd go shopping with Chii today! And here I sat looking forward to it~!

Tao: Sorry. To think there'd be an event out of nowhere... I'll buy you some pudding as apology. So let's go shopping. Okay?

Akuta: Like, during flower viewing... adults do /that/, right... Y'know... the thing... s- s- s- strip rock paper scissors....!

"yakyuuken" is a Japanese game on based rock paper scissors, where the loser ends up stripping.

Akuta: Ten-san, I heard you talking to a woman on the phone earlier, but is she for real... wrapped around your finger!? Like both hands all over a beaut and...!

Ten: Aha, the hell man. Don't slander me. She's just a plain ol' friend. Maybe you're still too young for this though~?

Akuta: That freakin' Kiroku, he put a kinda bracelet that girls would wear in his desk. Ah, wonder if he's like also doing the do with her...

Ushio: Oi Stupidtake, record what I make all you want but don't snatch food while i'm not looking. You itching to get banned or something?

Akuta: Geh... got caught, huh... I regret my actions! Please spare me from being exiled! Oh great god from heavens above Ushio-samaaa~!

Nanaki: Kugunii, come over whenever you feel like it again. I'm sure Dad, Mom and Big Bro all are eager to see you.

Kuguri: Perhaps so. ...I'll go if the mood strikes me.

Nanaki: Spring is the season of encounters, huh... I already have crossed paths with my G.O.A.T though.

GOAT: Gen Z slang, means "Greatest Of All Time".

Ushio: Listen Murakumo-san, I know you're fooling around, but can you please refrain from putting any weird ideas into the younger guys' heads?

Ten: Oh-hoh~ look at you sounding all cool there. Dunno what you mean with "weird ideas" though.

Ushio: ....I curse the freaking guy who dared to use my shampoo without permission to go bald from losing 10 hairs every second...!

Ryui: Toi, your hair's sticking out. Here, sit still. I'll fix it to make it pretty.

Toi: Wah... Thank you dearest Big Bro. My beloved Big Bro really is the coolest in the whole wide world... My heart's skipping a beat...

Toi: A mature seductiveness like Yodaka-san's... How can i end up having that too? I'm jealous, you see.

Yodaka: Fufu, but Toi. Don't you have your own kind of charm that I lack. I admit I'm also envious on that front.

[amischiefofmuses]

.

[disturbnot]

i guess now that the carrd is done, not much left to do but — — starter call! ✨ like this for a starter, or maybe i'll message to plot :)

[princessmacedon]

“ Ah! Lady Maria! It does me well to see you again, ”  Kent beams as he addresses the young redhead.  “ I actually have a present prepared for you for the Winter Festival, if you would be so willing to accept it. ”

A large wrapped box passes from his hands to hers. Upon unwrapping it, it would be revealed to be a huge set of various thread and ribbons all of different colors, full enough to complete the rainbow and then some.

“ Seeing as you seemed so pleased to do embroidery work multiple times in the past, I thought it a hobby of yours, so I wished to help procure you some supplies for it. I am sure you have a great many things you might wish to give or some fine work you would like to practice. I shall hope this shall suffice to give you the opportunity for either case then. ”

“Hello, Ser!” And she beams back as she replies in kind, eyes narrowed at him in happiness as she accepts the box without a second thought — truly without a second thought, for it is the beat after his words that her eyes drop down, blinking with a sort of awe as she realizes what it is.

Oh, but it is the excited sort — the sort that draws her eyes clear and round, that crinkles at their corners and shimmers at its center, that glitters with anticipation — all the ‘really truly’s and the ‘what could it possibly be’s!— and her mouth drops into a little ‘o’ before clacking shut, bared with pearly whites and laughter. Hoisting the box up higher, the little princess lays her cheek against its top, hugging the gift with affection.

“Wow…! Heehee… Thank you, Ser — I love it!” A statement honest and true for the simple fact of who gifted it, or that it exists at all.

Of course, she is delighted when she opens it, eyes all moon-roundness and new inspirations bright as the sun. Fingertips glide over spools of thread and colors beyond counting (or, well, countable but no less plentiful and delightful for it), and when she smiles yet again, there is a tautness to the corners of her mouth— appreciative… if also touched.

“Thank you…! I’m really, really happy, hee hee… Happy Winter Festival to you too, Ser!” At that, she presses a finger against her lips, a secret to cleave her grin in twain. “Something is a little late… so you’ll just have to look forward to it, okay? Heeheehee!”

(Some few days later she will stop by his office between classes, a package delivered with a smile and wave; if he is to open it, he will find a modest collection of tea blends with cards accompanying each tin — most notably, there is a blend from Macedon (complete with a happily-chattered story about wyverns and the sky) and another most carefully picked…)

(And, neatly folded in the corner, a white handkerchief trimmed with warm and sunny gold, the boughs of an apple tree embroidered into its southern corners.)

[corvidmagicae]

　 　 “... What?”

It's a very simple response, one heard by the witch many a time before. Any other mage who knew her reputation may have been cowed by her annoyed glower, those sharp red eyes glowing beneath the brim of her hat... but those who had actually gotten to know her would recognize the subdued disbelief and confusion in her expression was vastly dwarfing any irritation.

The suited human shoving a manilla folder in Bridgette's face? She fell into the later category. If anything, the woman - affectionately self-nicknamed 'Gadget' (since she refused to even remotely share any other name) - would just give a snicker at the elder's expression, rolling her eyes.

　 　 “C'mon, Biddie. You're old, but i know you're not deaf. Some of the younger fanged folk haven't gotten the memo yet that we're 'off the menu.'”

And immediately held her hand up to interrupt Bridgette's attempt to shoot a quip back at the wording choice.

　 　 “Yeah yeah, i know vampires aren't your forte. That isn't why the old ladies are putting this on your radar. THIS is.” The youngster opened the folder, slipping a couple of photographs out - the first a message scrawled at the scene of the crime, mentioning a particular newcomer to the local gangs.... and the second? A candid image of a familiar blonde. And Bridgette bit back a snarl, one of her fangs showing.

　 　 “The kid's alive - someone outside our group got to her first, obviously. Hopefully they know what they're doing to mitigate vampire bites. Something something, gotta wait out the poison, yeah? Keep them alive long enough? You'd know that sort of thing better than me. The problem is the group in question, and what happened to the biter. The dude's uh... he's not presentable. Not gunna show those images. But a little bit of clairvoyance got us a look at who decided to do some vigilante justice."

Gadget nudges the photo of the blonde towards Bri.

　 　 “So... yeah. That one's yours, isn't she?”

　 　 “She's not mine-”

　 　 “Yeah yeah, fae bullshit. But the point is, she's involved. And the old girls upstairs don't really don't care whatever rivalry you two have going on.... but they've decided that she's your responsibility. For uh... obvious reasons. If it were just her, it wouldn't be a problem, but this Vulcan thing has them rattled. Just... keep an eye on her maybe? Or give her a history lesson, or something. I dunno. You're the most contact she's had with the rest of SIBYL, so if anyone's going to get a better read of her and what she's trying to do, or better yet maybe get her to be less public, it's you.”

Oh, now Gadget's actually taking a moment to breath. Not before smacking the shorter witch on the forehead with the folder, unspoken yet light reprimanding, before dropping the folder in Bridgette's hands, but she's ceased talking none-the-less.

Not that Bridgette's taking the chance to talk. No, she's just running a palm along her face in an exasperated motion, pinching the bridge of her nose while she takes a moment to process what she's been told.

　 　 “Oh, goddammit Krupp. The hell have you done?”

[kuraikyu]

@adsevel : " Don't tell me 'stop'. You know you want it. That you need it. " [ geto <3 :) ]

ㅤ𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 ill-timed and warned of approaching crisis. These two ... they mattered to him. Suddenly a retrospective image flashed through his mind-scape; Mimiko and Nanako clinging happily to him and calling his name. Where first instinctively tightened expression distortedly soured ... no. ' Hey you two, the air is getting bad here. You should go back inside and keep your eyes peeled as you go. ' Jinta and Ururu looked at him in confusion first, then at one another, but without second ados, they would listen in the end and haste safely within the walls of the shop.

---

Second.

Second special grade and 57 other semi-grades ranked 2 and bellow ... all in one day. That was it for him, limit trespassed. To ease dreadfulness of the situation and summarize it humorously - he felt like sh*t. Geto knew very well one more exorcism over his limit will leave a mark, that's why this whole time he profoundly ignored another curse tailing after him across the city until its new target was supposed to become Jinta and Ururu. He shouldn't have been here at all and certainly should not have done that, especially, when he knows what it does to him but -- [ ... ] Tendrils of discomfort shot through his throat and scalp in order to obey necessary contumacy charged down the slope and pause. A fit of tremble, like delirium tremens, upsets the composure of confidence and throws off balance a blissful wish for feigned distress. His throat muscles tightened in compulsive terror, aware of what should / has to happen next.

Bit by bit ... with back pressed against the outdoor wall he slouched down behind the shop. Focused diligence failed to redress genuine grievances where the very walls of psyche have been damaged by some otherwordly mighty force. A minute. He needs just one full minute to re-collect his scattered sentience ... In spasm-like convulsions, orb pressed against quivering lip-line debilitating his continual imaginary all tiresome and hollow. There was another presence, but at this point, Geto was hardly perceptive enough to pay heed 'ward adamant bravado of benevolent wisdom coming nearer in distance of time.

Just when lips reluctantly parted between elapsing seconds to take in and absorb, something else replaced cold, glassy surface, something softer, sweeter ... a whiff of fresh air with resonance of strange energy ... plucking him from the suffocating embrace of nothingness. The cultist's hand was stopped by another. Rot waned away, and his senses were re-filled with taste of spring. Reassurances laid upon Hades' pedestal enkindled bewilderment behind disciplined cages of facial expressions. Someone did not let him swallow the shimmering black-gold. There was no space for grandiloquence or to be surprised but be he in better shape, he definitely would be. Black pearls now full of abyssal void bared in no anticipation, yet in a fluttering blink.

? '' ... '' Mutter falls lightly in mutual orbit. In accordion responding to what beckoned him with weak yet, firm low voiced semi-growl, " stop. " How dare you be soft to me like that. The ridge fell sheer, in steep crags and a distraction of the day couldn't dilute vastness of kaleidoscopic strobe.

" Don't tell me 'stop'. You know you want it. That you need it. "

He felt shiver whispering through him, jovial voice heavy in his mind. But these words did not stop hovering restlessly inches away from his face, so the manipulator's breathing grew shallow. Kisuke's contributory to silken purple of virulent vices left no demand to linger, instead lengths of low timbre's subtlety tried to soothe heft of his state.

ㅤ

'' You don't understand ... , '' he finally utters after a short pause until a self-derisive chuckle sails mistly from his lips, '' you should not be near me when I am in a state like that. ''

ㅤ

This wasn't even a matter of pride or wounded ego anymore but dangers of what he could do while unhinged. Locked for hours indulging in grandeur of destructive enormities until the feeling passes away - that's what should happen, not this. The merchant had no idea what is he fueling right now ... but it seemed like it did not matter to any of them anymore. He was just trying to help; with anything anyhow, but it was nearly impossible. No one could help him, except for himself and time. Still, it was a gesture of utmost kindness ... Mindless nebula taking over him once again. A drop of invisible scarcely latent, crimson thread carefully woven in a trice of giggles and controlled by feminine hands that unleashed anchor into dark waters not to embed stay but puncture sternum and pull closer one coronary artery to another; until grand collision happens in all its foul magnificence but till full reparation. Stirring astounding unreasoning and adrenaline surging through rattling bones and loose heart shaking feverishly in ribcage, such promising resolve hankers after electrifying intimacy as if it is the only salvation but alas! by the skin of one's teeth - solely a grinder for naked knife.

Digits intertwin in an acrimonious gesture of incomprehensible language with black haori clothing the Shinigami's shoulder. Instantaneously trying at first to maintain their separation at bay, but the hardness of his unrelenting grip gradually lost its dexterity and softened.

Lava rooted to the spot without binding nor fighting.

When adequate time occurs he will proceed with greed; for he still planned to swallow the special grade cocooned in his palm. Geto just needed a minute, but at the same time he understood the other would not let him have it, not yet, not now. Not until he's ready for it.

In the wake of resounding enormity of his own desire and faltering momentum of self-perception, masonry to provide continuity between new and old remembrance no longer firmed spinal support and produced space for bad decisions or best. A decision with slight possibility he won't remember a thing if his mind falls victim to blackout. In the loops of perpetual incapacitation, Kisuke reminded him how to breathe again. Perhaps, he might listen to him today ...

He inspires drawing in a full and deliberate inhale. It would give the Sorcerer but one grain of the mountain but he dives back as if in fierce competitiveness with his lungs, pursuing this new catharsis with breathless haste. Joys that were so trifling for one would terminate continual fainting for another.

But until again he is out of oxygen Geto decided to give in to the trickery just as endless. Until the hand holding orb lowered and was no longer a priority within his scope of attention.

[computerkisser]

that ask reminded me of how much i love squidward please look at these images of him he is soooo cute and silly

[amitsuma]

META ASKS: If Your OC Was Canon. // Accepting  

@unboundpower​ asked:

What would be the ‘incorrect but wildly popular’ interpretation of your character in fandom? / for amandine!

The first thing that comes to mind is she would be taken and treated as a tsundere, and just that, because she's got such a hard exterior but she does reveal a softer side and that would be taken out of proportion. She may also be taken as softer than she actually is because of that as well, opening up and trusting people more often than she actually would. The 'exception' would be made the 'rule', and it would be easier to get past her wall. 

[advnterccs-archive]

in reference to this

@dynamoprotocol sent; Clarissa—unaware of the little exchange had between her partner and her partner's grandkid's girlfriend—also happens to be harbouring a few Morty-based concerns.

"What the hell do you have that poor sucker grandkid of yours doing, Rick? I've seen project devs who have been awake 40 hours and looked more rested."

...and she's not as delicate about it as Meg was, either, but Rick's gambling on his life (and/or his chance of getting laid any time in the next fortnight) if he gives his girlfriend the same attitude the kid got back off of him.

Maybe Meg (@shctupmeg) couldn't see the subtleties, but Rick knew that Clarissa might. Sure, he didn't have the dark circles under his eyes. Nor the exhaustion in his stance. Though, he wasn't that better off. His hair slightly messy and clothes wrinkled. Just the faintest hint of a five o'clock shadow.

And to think he was much worse until Morty took over the task from last night.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, he seems fine to me," A classic, pretending to not see anything that might've been wrong. Surely that would help distract from blatantly lying to her. "Besides, y-you know how the kid is, he spends all night jerking off, watching wh-whatever on YouTube, it's not like I control him all of the time."

That might have been a small slip. The insinuation that he controlled the teen. In some ways, the darker part of his psyche, he felt as if he owned Morty in a sense. Normally a thing he never admitted to anyone else or even to himself. Not unless he was drunk or tired.

Shaking his head, he let out a groan. "I-It -- d-does it even fucking matter? Whatever happened, i-it's not my problem, so can you just -- I don't know -- not ask questions?"

And before he could even hear her out, he slipped past the ajar door, closing the garage door behind him. The sound of it locking loud enough to prove a point.

[korinthiakos]

@wildscratch has sent this in: ❛ i have nothing i could offer you. ❜ [ atticus, rdr verse! he too is new-ish to dutch's group-- ] | &. 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. ( accepting !! )

Connor leaned against the post that supported one of the tents at the camp. They had a grin on them - like a wolf in sheep's clothing. They peer through their small circular sunglasses before stepping forward. "Now that's a lie. A weak one. Atticus, buddy. You could do better than that. Bet you could offer me somethin'."

[amischiefofmuses]

In honor of sinday, here's some after hours with Recks and also just me practicing poses. This is sketchy and the proportions are a bit shoddy but -shrug noises-

[sttoru]

⠀𝝑𝑒 ⠀ DARLING, CAN I BE YOUR FAVORITE?

a series of (separate) fictional stories including true form!sukuna x concubine!reader. these stories take place in the heian era—an era where the king of curses ruled the jujutsu society in terms of power & strength—and focuses mainly on his harem. ྅

note. there are general warnings that are implemented in each piece down below ; size difference, being the main one. for more specific warnings please read the tags on each work.

requests are open, check the req rules on the author’s blog.

status. ongoing, until said otherwise by the author.

ONE SHOTS. I’LL BE YOUR GIRL, LET YOU TASTE IT

sukuna’s favorite concubine’s not-so-hidden jealousy ; sfw to suggestive

trying to break his favorite concubine’s innocence ; nsfw

dealing with harassment from the other concubines ; hurt to comfort, fluff, sfw

claiming ownership over his favourite concubine ; nsfw

letting his favorite concubine try to be on top of him for once ; nsfw

only kissing his favorite concubine and no one else ; sfw

sukuna’s favorite concubine stands up for herself, finally ; sfw

sukuna’s favorite concubine being clingy ; sfw

using his favorite concubine as stress relief ; nsfw

showing off his clingy favorite concubine in the throne room ; nsfw

his favorite concubines being injured and hiding it ; sfw

breaking his favorite concubine’s heart ; sfw

sukuna’s urges take over when being intimate with his favorite concubine [i bet on losing dogs] ; (n)sfw

sukuna’s jealousy evolves into another bloodbath ; sfw

soon: teaching his favorite (bratty) concubine some proper manners ; nsfw

DRABBLES. I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, YEAH, JUST TAKE IT

using his tummy mouth to please his concubine ; nsfw

sukuna coming back home ; sfw

HCS / OTHER. MY NAME IS WHATEVER YOU MAKE IT

sukuna’s favourite little concubine on her period ; sfw

tba.

CR. STTORU 2024

[peggyao3]

Relic - Pt. 15 "Herr God, Beware"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧ Dreams are messages from the deep ✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: Third person POV, she/her AFAB FMC, explicit sexual content, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum and big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, plans within plans, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced abuse, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable/ Emotional/Possessive Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, murder, teaching the universe about feminism, female rage, Frank Herbert would frown, No actually he would kneel in front of me, putting the science and the porn in sci-fi, angst with a happy ending

WORD COUNT: 3k

A/N: Thank you so much for your comments on the last chapter in particular. It was my favorite out of the entire fic 🥺🥺 And now, just some smut before we enter the finale (3 more chapters) 🥹

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

← Previous Chapter, Next Chapter (tba) →

Feyd-Rautha's strong hand clutches the wrist of his giggling, ticking time bomb as he herds her down the hollow hallway, back to her own chambers. Blackened water still dribbles down the thick curve of his pale calves and his feet leave wet imprints on the tiles. A black bathrobe clings damply to his shoulders, fabric curling around the salacious shape of his muscles.

Lilia quickly vacates her Lady's quarters and closes the door, Glugo at her hand, when the half undressed na-Baron and his beloved rush past her into the bedroom in a hurry.

His darling had wanted to have him right there in his tub. He had to stop her, rising out of the diluted healing concoction dripping wet. For their first time as proper betrotheds, he doesn't want to be submerged in claustrophobic bath water. He has a special place in mind, one that has her eyes growing round when she realizes that Feyd-Rautha does not intend to fuck her on the bed.

"Feyd! It's meant for cryo sleep, not for—"

"Open the lid, my darling, please."

Desire claws at his belly and a near perverse delight floods him when his fiancée obeys. Her pupils give a telltale flicker to the side and the top of the Sarcophagus swings open by her invisible command.

"What are you doing?" She giggles, her voice still high-pitched from the afternoon's victory.

Feyd-Rautha lets the bath robe drop to the floor and her eyes fall from his broad shoulders to his narrow waist and the muscles of his glutes that flex beneath his fair skin when he raises one long leg and climbs into the man-shaped mold that had sheltered his darling during her long journey between the stars.

"I want you to have me in here."

His semi-hard cock falls against his navel as he sinks down. The gel padding of the mold is surprisingly soft, cool to the touch but quickly warming up to his damp skin. The surrounding walls are lined with tubes like blood vessels and the chamber hugs him like he was transferred back into the womb.

"It's designed for one person," she scolds, but her hands are already at her waist, sliding under the hem of her trousers.

"And your trousers are designed for men, yet you are wearing them." Feyd-Rautha lets one corded arm dangle out of the sarcophagus, beckoning his betrothed closer with a curl of his hand. "Come here," he purrs. "Sit in my lap."

"You dare lecture me on my clothing when I've just discovered—?" Her trousers and boots are kicked to the floor with ferocity and when she climbs into the mold to him, Feyd's cock swells to full hardness without even a touch. His woman's eyes flash with the kind of indignance that he had hoped to spark.

His pelvis leaves just enough space on each side of the chamber for her to slot her folded legs, though it is a tight fit. Feyd-Rautha's hard flanks warm her knees and she frees her torso from the cover of her tunic with a swift curl of her arms that has her chest popping out and her breasts lifting as she stretches her arms high. The garment tumbles to the floor and Feyd-Rautha's hands are immediately at her hips and belly.

When she meets his gaze and lets the apex of her thighs sink down on his pelvis, feeling the soft squishiness of his balls against her cunt, she realizes the true nature of Feyd's provocation. While her eyes are glaring with fire, his are glossy and wanton like the deep-blue oceans of her old home.

The hand with which she intends to aim the gun at the Baron slides over Feyd-Rautha's warm chest, where his heart beats, and he makes no move to overpower her or coax her into action, just holding her expectantly to his straining manhood. She lowers her voice, wild giggles replaced by a sultriness that comes from the overflowing well of her earlier victory. 

"Is that what you desire right now?" She coos, eyes gliding proudly over the hard, masculine body that lies so docile beneath her. He has been vulnerable with her before, when he needed her touch to keep himself from drowning, but never like this. Not with his pretty mouth open and his blue eyes rendered so dark with lust, like he's going to come apart willingly at a fleeting touch of her hand.

His submission is not an escape tonight, it is triumphant.

Feyd-Rautha nods and his tongue darts out briefly to wet his pink bottom lip. She eclipses the light of the golden glow globe and he readily cranes his head for her trailing hand, moaning when her fingers encircle his throat. The thick tendons that stretch from base to jaw strain against her palms, yielding under pressure, because despite how hard he looks, Feyd-Rautha is made of soft flesh, like anyone else.

As he gazes up admiringly, he briefly wonders how old his betrothed actually is. He's never asked her, but she glances down at him with a wisdom and confidence that melt his bones. Willingly, his knees fall apart against the walls of the man-sized cavern.

She's going to make it alright. She's going to cure his rot.

"Can you ask me again?" He demands pleadingly, his voice a low rasp that vibrates against the palm of her hand.

"Ask you what?" Her thumb brushes over the sharp tip of his Adam's Apple. It is cute, the way it jumps away from her touch, like a frightened animal.

"To be your husband."

"But you already said yes," she purrs and makes sure that he feels the weight of her against his pelvis. With the way she's seated on him, her clit comes to rub against his smooth pubic mound as she leans forward a little.

"But I want to say it again," Feyd-Rautha confesses. A part of him yearns for her to ask him again every new day, so he knows she hasn't changed her mind.

"How about you ask me now?" At that, her betrothed's strong fingers twitch around the soft flesh of her hips.

"Will you be my wife, my darling? Will you honor and serve me til death do us part?" His pupils fill out the blue pools of his irises with comical dilation and a heavy inhale raises his chest a bit closer to her breasts.

"Is that how Harkonnens ask for the hand of their Lady?"

"You need to say yes," Feyd-Rautha snarls with a pleading darkness gathering behind his eyes.

"I will, if you ask me right." Her cheeks are rounded in a coy grin, infuriatingly disregarding the distress that pounds against Feyd's ribs. His hold on her tightens and so does hers around his pale throat. At the possessive touch of him, her cunt provides moisture that flows across Feyd-Rautha's sac.

"Will you be my wife and let me honor and serve you til death do us part?"

She laughs brightly and the flexing of her muscles brings the cradle of her thighs against his pelvis in an involuntary jerk. When her betrothed moans, she repeats the same motion, this time deliberately, and leans down to his face, nestling it within her palms.

"I was thinking more of loving and caring for each other til death do us part, but I suppose honoring and serving works too, as long as we both do it."

"And does that mean yes?"

"Of course it does, silly boy. Yes, I will be your wife. And my wedding gift to you will be death."

He shudders obscenely at the power that lies at their fingertips. The power to not only put an end to his tormentor's regime, but to throw the universe into a new dark age — The universe that had always looked away from his suffering, endorsed it.

"Would you say this is a worthy gift, my love?" His woman purrs lovingly and slowly grinds her sweet, wet cunt against the base of his cock. 

Feyd-Rautha nods, moaning quietly. His hands just lightly aid the rolling of her pelvis that has his cock jump longingly against her abdomen, plump head almost nudging her navel. She feels the velvety hardness of him against her belly and arches her spine to meet the next twitch of his aching length.

"Then so be it."

One hand abandons his neck and embarks on a journey down the length of his smooth, tapered torso.

Feyd is the perfect harmony of strong and vulnerable. Thick muscles wrapped around his chest and shoulders, his thighs powerful and hard, his wiry forearms entwisted by prominent veins that stretch all the way down to his hands, knuckles still dusted in the purple remnants of bruises from the afternoon brawl. 

Yet, there is a graceful felinity to his long limbs and slender core and the way he carries himself, every muscle in a perfect equilibrium of poise. The skin she skims is made soft by lotions and oils, the perfectly delicate cover for the hard swells of his abdominal muscles that flex deliciously in the wake of her fleeting fingertips.

"Woman~" he moans low and sweetly and her gaze falls on the absurd dip of his cupid's bow and the plump curve that defines his bottom lip.

"Yes?" Her fingertips gently dance around his twitching length, indulging his abdomen in ticklish caress while avoiding the place where he aches all over.

"Please." Feyd's pelvis rolls up against her cunt, bare feet seeking purchase against the odd, cushioned floor of the sarcophagus.

To Feyd-Rautha, tonight is a night of self-indulgent weakness. He has grown long tired of living behind the guards of violent defense that he has erected around himself, sick of the impotent fear and rage his uncle has cultivated in his misshapen boy heart.

Perhaps Feyd would have been able to kill the Baron without her. But an animal may not be able to free itself from its cage, even when the key in the lock is turned. It may just need someone to push the handle and open the gate.

His darling may be diabolical for the knowledge she has unlocked with the aid of the machine that calmly hums beneath his back, but she is not diabolical to him. One sweet plea from his lips has her lifting her pelvis and his cock readily jumps against the folds of her cunt.

Another day, his hand would have been around the thick base of his cock to angle himself into her entrance, but tonight he waits for her smaller hand to guide him. The briefest of touch has his mouth open and his neck strained in anticipation, and then the wet heat of her meets his weeping slit.

"Oof~" A little sound escapes her lungs when the blunt tip of him spears her open wide, generously slick but otherwise unprepared. She holds herself there, fingers twisted into the skin of his tensing stomach. Feyd-Rautha waits with agonizing patience as the head of his cock is veritably crushed by her tight walls.

He is so absurdly sensitive, the impossibly slow descent of her pelvis has him hissing through his teeth.

"God, what did they, agh, feed you to make you grow to this size?"

Feyd-Rautha lets out a burst of boyish laughter, then curses to the Sun in Harkunnin  before he can tell her that, if not genetics, it could have only been the extraordinarily carnivorous diet he had enjoyed as a boy. She raises herself and the slow glide of her cunt massages the aching inches of his cock.

His voice grows guttural and deliciously pathetic as she establishes a slow, rolling pace, aided only gently by the push and pull of his hands. He feels truly cocooned in the way her walls wrap around his cock and her soft hands on his chest press him down into the cushioned gel pads.

The moisture from the bath has long dried on his skin and what dampens it now is a warm flush of arousal. Blue eyes are glued to the movement of her flesh, trailing over her tummy and breasts before meeting the calm, simmering confidence in her eyes. Her torso folds itself halfway over his chest, one hand propped against the gel cushion next to his head, the other cupping his flexing jaws.

"My baby just needs someone to take care of him, isn't that right?"

Feyd-Rautha's brows twitch briefly at the unfamiliar moniker, but its meaning is clear and his pelvis shudders against his will. A deep, sweet desire blossoms at the base of his spine, waiting to be spilled.

"My baby boy has been so lonely all his life, but I'm here now. I'm taking care of you."

He wants to be something for someone, something of value, something precious, something coveted and even vulnerable. For once in his life, someone is standing up for him and Feyd falls head first into the white-hot ignition of love that pulses at his core and reaches so quickly into his balls and the root of his cock.

"Yeeesss," he moans, brows scrunching together tightly. The steady rocking of his beloved's hips milks him dry of his cum and his lungs wheeze in breathless huffs. Tears prick at his eyes below closed lids.

"My darling," she sighs, her voice a shiver that flows across his face along with her hot breath, so close, so sweet.

"More," he demands even though his empty cock begins to burn from the deep rhythm that fills her out from entrance to navel. Feyd-Rautha's strong fingers cling needily to her hips and she grins upon his request, straightening herself. A bead of sweat dribbles down between her breasts.

"Then be good and help me, yes?"

His thumb is on her bundle of nerves before she can even finish her sentence, blue eyes wickedly gleaming with determination. It is the least he can do to reward her for being an angel sent to him across space and time. 

Her pelvis rolls back and forth, meeting the perfectly placed pressure of the pad of his thumb. Even with him half flaccid, she still feels deliciously full, and the gravelly moans she pulls from his throat sinfully aid the approach of her climax, a tightening pressure against the base of her spine that seems to be pulling every muscle inwards to her core.

In their wake, they make a mess all over his lap and balls, inky seed marking them both in sticky trails.

Where another man might struggle, Feyd-Rautha has little trouble growing hard again from having his future wife around his overstimulated cock. The pleasure-pain of it makes him sink his teeth into his plush bottom lip and his fingers into her waist, taking back a smidge of control. His shaft twitches against her tender walls.

"Just like thi-is, ahh, Feyd—!" Her toes curl against the outsides of his thighs.

"Almost there, sweetling," he promises, positioning his soles safely against the cushioned ground and then pistons up into her cunt. The force and stamina behind his thrusts is effortless, splitting her poise. Her torso falls against his, breasts flattened against the hard planes of his chest, lips finding his.

Feyd-Rautha drinks up his to-be wife's needy whines like wine from a chalice, wraps one strong arm around her middle while his thumb remains on her swollen, little clit. His cock does the rest, rhythm powered by his thick thighs, he slams himself into her slick cunt.

Moments away from climax, her tongue squirms against his and her pelvis tries to escape from his hold, the first tendrils of white-hot pleasure so overwhelming that her first reaction is flight. But Feyd-Rautha's grip screws itself tight around her waist and the next, perfect circle of his thumb has her coming apart on his cock, drool slipping into his open mouth, in glistening rivulets down his black teeth.

Feyd gives himself to the sweet strangulation of her cunt, shuddering from each burst of seed that is wrenched from his balls. Each clench of their combined release sparks like a bang of fireworks, a rumble that shakes the fundament of the universe.

Their bodies grow still aside from their lungs' heaving and Feyd-Rautha's cheeks are dusted in a blush, lids drooping low as he lets his big hands wander over the curves of her body in blissful delirium. When his hand arrives in her nape, their lips meet again for a slow dance in the afterglow of their release — lazy, sloppy kisses and slow grinding of their hips while sweat cools on their flesh.

A silly thought tugs on the strings of his drowsy mind. If he fell asleep right here and she closed the lid of her sarcophagus over him, he could time travel to a world where the Baron is already dead and burned. He has not a doubt in his heart that she will make it happen.

With a sweet sigh, his darling straightens herself, fingertips lingering on his belly as she admires him from above. Golden glowglobe light spills from the crown of her head down her shoulders like a bridal veil, like a ruler's cape. Feyd-Rautha's hand moves up her sternum and cups her warm cheek. Her lashes flutter shut and she exhales slowly, and by the time she casts them open again, her gaze has sharpened itself to the tip of a spear.

She was an unshaped piece of wood, pulled out of the grave, then carved into a lumpy shape by the Bene Gesserit and set on the board, a wildcard pawn with promising genes, ready to play.

Now, she is about to shatter the chessboard with a fractal hammer, because now she has a reason. 

For him. For her new kin. And out of rage. And for freedom.

The Bene Gesserit didn't just open a relic from space. What they did is unleash an invasive species from a time capsule into a delicately stable ecosystem, and she intends to unravel it like a tumor from within.

Ash, ash — You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there---- A cake of soap, A wedding ring, A gold filling. Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out of the [ice] I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.

   - Lady Lazarus by Sylvia Plath

A/N: Because I'm an asshole, I will say the following: Two characters will die in the next chapter, and one of them you're looking forward to. Give me your best guesses 😌✨ If anyone guesses correctly, I'll eat my own arm.

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring, @meetmeatyourworst, @gravesdiggergirl

[arcade-sekai]

Finding comfort in flickering neons…

A dream collaboration of an aspiring artist with her secret companions! 

ZERO +-ox or ZERO control, sometimes abbreviated as ZC and Zerocon (ゼロコン) is a unit founded by a schoolgirl and her secret bandmates that bond over their shared ambitions.

@charactervocal02 here with my first ever big scale project released into the public! I admit I don’t have much material to post here and this is pretty much still a work in progress, but I’ve had this thing sitting around since January and I don’t want to just collect dust on it.

I will try to frequently post doodles and attempts at proper art, but I don’t have a clear schedule or routine. Everything in my life is such a mess (wwww)

The ZC story stars Odaka Momoko or P1, as she likes to be addressed; alongside Arcade SEKAI’s inhabitants, the Virtual Singers. Her band is rather small, it’s hardly a band, but one can present their music in any way they want, right?

Follow Momo on her journey of acceptance, but I beg of you, be nice to her. She is of weak heart.

tags:

#arcade sekai = general tag

#arcade sekai fa = for possible fanart

#odaka momoko or #momoko odaka

#arcade miku

#arcade rin

#arcade len

#arcade luka

#arcade meiko

#arcade kaito

[more TBA if needed]

about asks

Feel free to drop questions directed at me or at the characters themselves, greetings, nice messages or art prompts. I’ll try to get to all of them in due time, but please, do not send anything NSFW or otherwise inappropriate.

about ships

There won’t be any ships confirmed in this project, however, you can expect hints of MikuRin and KaiMeiLuka. Feel free to make ship art, but know that in canon, the Virtual Singers are incapable of true romantic attraction.

That being said, I am uncomfortable with RinLen, as I view them as siblings more than anything.

fanart + other content

Please please please don’t hesitate to make fanart or form headcanons or do any other kind of stuff! I want nothing else than the community to engage with this project. However, please make sure to somehow point to this blog so people know what you’re talking about ^_^

Also please tag me in your works! I absolutely do not mind the extra notification + it’s easier for me to find that way!

I will make weekly or monthly fanart highlights if this ends up blowing up…

launch tags

@mirpkechi @bobcross1010 @sillystringstar @vee1021 @sillysillynoodles

go forth and spread this around /j

[amitsuma]

🔥 Atropa and Sukkali: he don’t know them very well, but Fu finds them very pleasant to the eyes 👌🏾

Send 🔥 if your muse is attracted to my muse'

❝Oh! Thank you so much, that's so kind of you.❞

❝Ooh, is that so? How sweet of you. You aren't so bad yourself.❞

[xxchumanixx]

Lilies and Conspiracies pt. 4

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Lilies and Conspiracies pt. 4 - Safeguard

Warnings/Tags: fluff, Max being Max

Word count: tba

Authors note: Hello my loves! I know it's been a while, and I'm so sorry for it! Im not really happy with this yet, and im still not a hundred percent sure how this story will fold out.

Im sorry if this seems like more of a filler (or if it doesn't make any sense idk) or if it's too much time with the brother, but I'm trying to build this story into something that has a certain depth... even though I'm not sure if it works or not...

Anyways,

Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Dear reader,

One would say a stroll in the park would cool one's mind, but I have the feeling that maybe for some it will not. This author is sure that some of them will burn rather quickly in the sun. Maybe even some heads will start to smoke soon, too.

We can only wait to find out.

Lady Whistledown's Society Papers, April 1814

You changed into a more proper gown for the park, your maid helping you. She made your hair,  applying some blush to your cheeks, before you went downstairs again, searching for your brother.  

Max was waiting in the foyer, leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed. He looked up as he heard your footsteps approaching. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he took in your appearance.

"Looking lovely, darling sister." he said, pushing himself away from the pillar. "You're sure to capture some hearts at the park with that outfit."

You chuckled. "That's the goal, right?" you asked. "I'm ready to go."

Max nodded, offering you his arm. "Indeed, the more hearts you capture, the closer we are to finding you a suitable match." 

He led you out the door and towards the waiting carriage. Once you were both seated comfortably, he signaled to the driver to start the ride.   

"Now," he said, leaning back against the seat. "We have some time before reaching our destination, so I have a question for you."  

You cocked a brow at him. "What question?"

Max shrugged casually, a playful glint in his eye. "Consider it a... hypothetical question."  he said and paused, studying you for a moment before continuing. "Let's say, hypothetically speaking, a particular Lord has caught your eye." 

He paused again, waiting for your reaction.  

You didn't react to it, though, not letting him see anything in your posture. He had a thing for making everything complicated.

Max smirked, noticing your lack of reaction and the way you kept your composure. "Oh, don't play coy with me, darling sister. Your poker face is not quite convincing." he said, chuckling. "But for the sake of the hypothetical, let's say this Lord is handsome, charming, and has a bit of a reputation as a rake."  

You rolled your eyes, slumping back in your seat. "Really, Max?" you asked, getting annoyed. "What are you getting at?"  

Max chuckled, enjoying your reaction. "Just a hypothetical, darling sister, a simple what-if scenario." he shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "But I'm just wondering, if this hypothetical Lord was interested in you, would you be interested back?"  

You blinked a few times in confusion. "Only if I like him, if he piques my interest. Why?"  

Max feigned innocence, shrugging slightly. "Just curious, is all. Hypothetically, of course."  he smirked, unable to resist teasing you a bit more, and you groaned. "But let's say, hypothetically, this Lord has a reputation, a wild and carefree past. Would you still be interested?"  

You frowned, irritation clear on your face. "Really, you're insufferable, Max." you said. "But yes, I might be still interested."  

Max chuckled, not seeming at all offended by your remark. "Insufferable, or just enjoying myself immensely?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. "So, you wouldn't be intimidated by a Lord's reputation? Even if he has a tendency to partake in... debauchery?"  

You huffed, not sure why he was asking that stuff. "You're no better, Maximilian." you said. "What would you say if someone was interested in you?"  

He chuckled, grinning at your comment about his own reputation as a rake. "Ah, touché, darling sister." he said, leaning forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. "If someone were interested in me, eh? I would say, firstly, that they have good taste." he explained, smirking. "But beyond that, I suppose I would be flattered. Provided they are not a dreadful bore, of course."  

You rolled your eyes again. "Would you tell her the same you tell me?" you questioned further, leaning slightly forward, too. "To be cautious because of your reputation as a rake? Or what would you tell her?"  

Max raised an eyebrow, sensing the hint of a challenge in your words. He chuckled, playing along.  "Why, I would be honest with her, of course." he said, holding your gaze. "I would inform her of my past. My time spent in college, the parties, the dalliances. I would not attempt to sugarcoat my reputation. Honesty is, after all, of the utmost importance." 

He smirked, leaning forward as well. "And if she were still interested after that, well, then perhaps..."  

"See." you cut him off, before he could have ended that sentence. "So why lecture me then? Lord Bridgerton seems honest about his reputation, no different than you are. Why shouldn't I be interested? Why should I be cautious?" 

Max chuckled, realizing you had caught him in his own argument. “You sneaky minx.” he said, unable to keep the smile off his face.   

Then he sighed, leaning back in his seat again. “Very well, you have a point. But you must understand, I am merely acting as your older brother.” He paused for a moment, his expression turning a bit more serious. “Lord Bridgerton is honest about his reputation, but… sometimes honesty can be dangerous, especially to an unguarded heart.” he then said a bit softer.

You shook your head at your brothers words. The carriage luckily took the moment to halt in the park, and you sighed to yourself. This argument would have been pointless – it had been the last few years, and it wouldn’t change.

One reason more to proof him wrong about it, to show him that love and practicality were both possible in a marriage. 

Max stepped out of the carriage first, offering his hand to help you out. He smiled reassuringly, as if sensing your thoughts. “Chin up, dearest sister.” he said softly. “Enjoy this day. Perhaps the perfect admirer will catch your eye.”   

He linked his arm with yours as you began to stroll through the park.

You looked around the people gathered, trying to make out if Anthony was there, too, whilst the servants put up the pavilion and stuff. 

As you glanced around the park, looking for Anthony, Max noticed your subtle gaze and smirked slightly. “Looking for someone in particular, darling sister?” he asked, his voice teasing. 

You shook your head. “No, just checking who is in the park. Might be someone amongst them I could have a pleasant conversation with.” 

Max chuckled, knowing full well who you were looking for. “Ah, a pleasant conversation. How dreadfully boring.” He squeezed your arm playfully. “Come now, have some fun. Let loose a little.” 

You chuckled slightly. “Be grateful you don’t have to have these pleasant conversations.” 

Max pretended to shudder, feigning disgust. “Indeed, it would be a dreadful fate, having to engage in boring conversations.” he chuckled, nudging you lightly with his elbow. “But you, dear sister, have a knack for making even the dullest conversations bearable. I’m envious of those poor sods trying to charm you.” 

You scoffed. “I could find a wife for you, if you’re so lonely.” you offered playfully. “Maybe someone that likes to talk all day.” 

Max pretended to consider this for a moment, stroking his chin theatrically. “Hmm, an endless conversationalist, you say?” He let out a exaggerated groan. “Oh, the horrors. The incessant prattle. The never-ending barrage of chatter. What a nightmare you would inflict upon me.” 

“Serves you right.” you gave back. “For making fun of me.” 

He chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh, come now, darling sister. A little teasing between siblings is just part of the family bond.” he said, playfully nudging you with his elbow again. “Besides, where’s your sense of humor? I’m just trying to lighten the mood. Can’t you take a little jest?” 

You nudged him back, maybe not the most ladylike act, but you didn’t care. “I’m full of humor.” you said. “Why do you think I can endure your presence like that?” 

Max let out a hearty laugh, pretending to clutch his chest in mock pain. "Ah, you wound me!" he exclaimed. "I’m hurt, dearest sister. I pour my soul into entertaining you, and this is the gratitude I receive?" 

He grinned, his laughter dying down. “You know you love me.” 

“You’re lucky I do.” you retorted, eyes still flitting through the park in search of Anthony. 

Max chuckled, his grin widening as he noticed your persistent glances around the park. He knew full well who you were looking for, but decided to play along, feigning ignorance.   

“Looking for someone in particular again?” he asked, his voice laced with playful innocence. 

“Cressida Cowper.” you shot back. “I’m feeling like some dreadful company.” 

Max raised an eyebrow, his expression mimicking surprise. “Cressida Cowper? My, my, you are in a rebellious mood today.” He chuckled, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “And here I thought you valued pleasant conversations. Seems like you’re craving some chaos.” 

You chuckled. “Where would be the fun without some occasional chaos?” 

He laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "Ah, there’s the mischievous side of my dear sister." he said playfully. "I was beginning to worry you had completely taken on the role of the perfect young lady."

He squeezed your arm lightly. “You do know you’ll drive me to an early grave one day, don’t you?” 

“Oh, I certainly hope so.” you muttered, though you didn’t really mean it. You bit your cheek, slowly fearing Anthony wouldn’t show up. You didn't even know why you were so excited yet anxious to see him again, yet you weren't able to suppress it either.

Max chuckled at your response, knowing fully well you were merely jesting. However, he sensed your subtle disappointment, noticing the way you bit your cheek.   

“What’s the matter, dearest?” he asked softly, his tone somewhat more serious now. “You were hoping for someone in particular to join us, weren’t you?” 

You sighed. “Maybe.” you admitted, spotting Lord Pendale. Stiffening, you fought the urge to turn around and run. 

Max noticed your sudden change in demeanor and the way you became more tense. He followed your gaze, spotting the lord in question and immediately understanding your reaction.   

He leaned closer, whispering discreetly. “Ah, Lord Pendale. Should I be concerned?” 

“He seems uncomfortably interested in me.” you said. “Though it’s one-sided.” 

Max frowned slightly, not liking the sound of Lord Pendale’s unwelcome advances. “I see.” he said, his voice laced with a hint of protective concern.   

He glanced over at Lord Pendale, sizing up the situation. “Do you wish me to intervene? Throw him off your scent for the afternoon?” 

You huffed. “And ruin my reputation? No, thank you.” you gave back, giving his arm a light squeeze. “I can handle him. He just doesn’t seem too fond of the idea of his wife being well-read. And he talks way too much about finances, just like this morning.” 

Max chuckled, amused by your description of Lord Pendale. "Ah, a man of dull conversation and limited interest." he mused. "A true gem indeed." He smirked, feigning a shiver. “I can’t imagine how dull it must have been, listening to him go on about finances. My condolences for your ears, darling sister.” 

You huffed again. “You can’t imagine the relief I felt when you walked into the room to announce we have an appointment.” 

Max chuckled, recalling the events. “Ah, yes, my timely entrance to rescue you from the drudgery of financial discussion." he said. "I was merely looking out for your sanity, dear sister.”   

He leaned in closer, a playful glint in his eyes. “You should be grateful for my impeccable timing.” 

You nodded. “I am, believe me, brother.” you assured him. You still didn’t see Anthony, and your mood slowly dropped by the minute. You had hoped for at least one pleasant conversation.

“Don’t fret too much, dearest sister. The day is still young." Max said. "There’s plenty of time for your special someone to appear.” 

You nodded, not convinced. “Maybe.” you mumbled. “Or maybe you were right, and he really isn’t interested in a courtship… Even though it seemed different this morning…” 

Max noticed the slight waver in your voice, sensing your uncertainty and disappointment. He placed a comforting hand on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.   

“Darling sister,” he said softly, his tone sincere. “Just because he hasn’t arrived yet does not mean he isn’t interested. Perhaps he has been held up by some unexpected business or other obligations. You mustn’t let your mind run away with negative thoughts.” 

You nodded again with a sigh. “Right, how foolish of me to not consider that.” you mumbled, biting your cheek. “I only met him yesterday after not having seen him for years, I shouldn’t be so disappointed.” 

Max gave you a sympathetic smile, understanding the depth of your feelings. “It’s only natural to be disappointed, dearest." he assured you. "But you mustn’t be too hard on yourself. These things take time.”   

He paused for a moment, thinking over his next words carefully. “But remember, it is important not to get too invested too quickly. It can be dangerous for your heart.” 

You nodded. “Yeah, you’ve been telling me about it for the past few years.” 

Max chuckled faintly. “Ah, yes, I suppose I have, haven’t I?" he said, smiling softly. "But my advice comes from a place of concern. I only wish to protect you from potential heartbreak.” 

“I know, I know.” you sighed, patting his arm. “But fear not, dear brother, I will be careful.” You looked around again, silently hoping Lord Pendale wouldn’t notice you before you found Anthony.

Where could he be? Was he really just delayed? Or did he not wish to see you again? 

Max chuckled, noticing your subtle attempt to avoid Lord Pendale’s notice. He gently guided you, slightly altering your position so that you wouldn’t be easily spotted from where Lord Pendale was standing.   

“Ah, attempting to play hide and seek with our dull-minded friend, are we?” he whispered, amusement obvious in his voice. 

You chuckled uneasily. “Is it that obvious?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer. “I am simply not ready for a conversation with him again. My brain would decay.”  

Max laughed, thoroughly entertained by your witty remark. “Ah, you and your sharp tongue." he chuckled. "I can’t blame you, sister. Lord Pendale’s conversational skills are akin to watching paint dry.”   

He patted your shoulder lightly, a hint of playfulness in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you hidden from him as long as necessary.” 

“Thank you, Max.” you said. “I appreciate it.”  

He smiled warmly, a hint of brotherly affection in his eyes. “Of course, dearest sister. That’s what brothers are for.”   

He leaned in slightly, his tone more conspiratorial. “We can pretend to have a long, elaborate discussion about something exceedingly dull." he offered. "That should deter Lord Pendale from approaching us.” 

You chuckled. “Oh, I hope so.” you said. “Otherwise I’d have to be Cressida and suddenly faint.” 

Max laughed heartily at your suggestion, clearly amused by the idea. “Oh, please do, dearest sister." he laughed, hand on his chest. "I should like to see Lord Pendale’s expression as you take a dramatic swoon on the grass.”   

He shook his head, a grin on his face. “But let us hope it won’t come to that.” 

“Fingers crossed.” you mumbled, biting your cheek once more, the sensitive flesh stinging already. Some of the lords looked your way, but they didn’t come over to talk yet. 

Max noticed the lords stealing glances your way, too and chuckled. “Ah, it seems you’re quite the topic of conversation among them, dear sister.” He gestured discretely towards the men, a smirk on his face. “I can almost hear the gossip starting to spread.” 

You refrained from rolling your eyes and instead smiled at the men politely. “Or they’re talking about how ridiculous you look.” you joked, keeping that smile on your face. 

Max feigned mock offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “Ridiculous, you say?" he wanted to know. "Now that’s just hurtful, sister. I’ll have you know the peacock blue waistcoat is quite the fashion statement.”   

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “But let’s not kid ourselves, they’re more likely staring at your radiant beauty than my exquisite sense of style.” 

You chuckled. “Ever the charmer, are you not?” Then you looked around the park again, spotting the pavilion of the Bridgertons, and your heart stuttered before doubling its speed. “Let’s go over there.” you said, wanting to look if Anthony was amongst them.  

Max followed your gaze, spotting the pavilion where the Bridgerton family was gathered. He raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile slowly spreading across his face. He caught onto your subtle motive for wanting to go over there. “Ah, so that’s why you suddenly want to saunter over there." he teased. "Hoping to catch a glimpse of someone special, perhaps?” 

Oh, he very well knew who you were looking for. But if you wouldn't tell, he wouldn't say.

You shrugged, pouting but lightly tugging him in the direction of the pavilion. “No, I just decided I like the grass over there better.” 

Max chuckled at your not-so-subtle attempt to hide your true intentions. He feigned obliviousness, going along with your explanation of liking the grass better. “Ah, of course.” he said, playing along as he allowed you to lead him towards the pavilion. “Because the grass is so much greener there, right?”   

He suppressed a smirk, fully aware of your real purpose for wanting to go over there. 

“It is indeed.” you agreed. “It’s a much greener shade than the rest of it.”

As you walked closer, you tried to scan the people, see if he was amongst them – but he wasn’t. You felt a pang in your chest – if his family was there, but he wasn’t, that could mean he was delayed – or he didn’t want to come.  

Max followed your gaze as you scanned the people at the pavilion, noticing your slight disappointment as you didn’t spot Anthony. He tried to keep his tone casual but couldn’t help the hint of concern in his voice.   

“Looking for someone in particular, dearest sister?” he asked softly, his eyes observing your expression. 

You shook your head. “No.” you said, trying to hide your disappointment and wanted to turn in another direction when Violet Bridgerton spotted you – Anthony's mother. “Miss Barton!” she called out, walking over. “Lord Barton.” 

Max smiled and inclined his head respectively as Lady Bridgerton approached. “Lady Bridgerton,” he greeted warmly. “A pleasure to see you.”   

Max glanced at you, knowing of your initial attempt to turn away, only to be thwarted by Lady Bridgerton’s call. He gave you a subtle nudge, silently telling you to compose yourself and engage in the conversation. 

You smiled at her politely, not sure why she chose to address you. “Lady Bridgerton.” you greeted her with curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to see you.” 

Lady Bridgerton returned your polite greeting with a warm smile. “I must say, dear, you certainly look delightful today.” She glanced around, her gaze lingering on the group of lords who had been looking at you earlier. Then her smile widened a bit, as if she had an idea. 

You smiled meanwhile, blushing slightly. 

Lady Bridgerton chuckled softly at your blushing. “Ah, such a charming blush. I remember when I was your age, dear.”   

Max, on the other hand, was watching the entire interaction with a mixture of amusement and caution. He could sense that Lady Bridgerton had something up her sleeve. 

She always had, didn't she?

You chuckled quietly. “Oh, I bet you must have at least looked as wonderful as you do now, lady Bridgerton.” you said with a smile.  

Lady Bridgerton chuckled at your compliment, clearly pleased. “Ah, what a delightful charmer you are, dear.” She turned her attention to Max for a moment. “She’s quite the catch, isn’t she?”   

Max nodded silently, a knowing smirk on his face. He slowly got a hunch of what she was doing. 

Lady Bridgerton turned back to you, her gaze appraising. “You know, dear, I’ve been thinking…” she said, pausing.

Max raised an eyebrow at the same time as you did, silently wondering what she was about to say. He discreetly nudged you gently, signaling for you to listen intently.

You elbowed him back but listened nonetheless.  

Lady Bridgerton smiled slightly at the exchange between you and Max before continuing. “With the season in full swing, I’ve noticed some young lords expressing interest in you.” she said before she paused, gauging your reaction.   

You swallowed, blushing slightly. “Not as many as Daphne had last year.” you pointed out, smiling.  

She chuckled softly, the corner of her mouth lifting in amusement. “Ah, darling Daphne’s success certainly set the tone.” she said dreamily. Then, she paused for a moment before returning to her initial line of thought. “The thing is, my dear, with so many young lords vying for your attention, well…”   

Max interjected, his voice smooth yet layered with a hint of humor. “Yes, Lady Bridgerton, do get to the point of it all, please.” he spoke pleadingly, fearing she would never get to the point.

You elbowed him again; maybe not as subtle as you wanted to, though. “Let her talk, Max. You’re so impolite.” you scolded him.

Max chuckled softly at your elbow, feigning offense. “Impolite, you say?" he asked. "I am merely trying to keep the conversation moving forward to its intended point, dearest sister.”   

Lady Bridgerton chuckled as well, amused by the banter between you and Max. She resumed her thought. “You see, with so many young men expressing interest, it’s natural for a mother to consider their… intentions, let’s say.” 

Max nodded, silently agreeing with her point of view. He could sense that she was leading up to something.   

Lady Bridgerton continued after a moment, her gaze fixed on you. “It just so happens that some of these young men are, well… less than honorable in their intentions.” 

You nodded. “Yes, I can imagine.” you said, biting your cheek. Your mother would have told you the same if she was still alive.

She nodded in agreement. “Precisely, dear. And as a mother, I have a certain responsibility to ensure that those intentions do not… shall we say, veer towards the Inappropriate.” she continued to explain.

You blinked at her a few times before you chuckled under your breath. “Oh, don’t worry, Lady Bridgerton.” you assured her. “I can protect myself if need be. But I appreciate your concern. It’s a fresh change to my brother’s non-stop babbling."

Lady Bridgerton chuckled softly, appreciating your confidence. “Ah, the overprotective older brother always has his ways, doesn’t he?”   

Max rolled his eyes playfully, feigning annoyance at your comment. “Oh, yes, I’m sure my ‘constant babbling’ is quite an annoyance to you, dearest sister.” he muttered.

“You have no clue.” you mumbled but smiled.  

Max chuckled, a hint of affectionate annoyance in his eyes. “Yes, I can only imagine how difficult it is for you to bear my company.”   

Lady Bridgerton chuckled as well, amused by the back-and-forth banter between you two. She cleared her throat, bringing the conversation back to the topic at hand.   

“Now, dear, while I have confidence in your ability to handle young lords, it is always beneficial to have… a safeguard, shall we say?” she explained, head tilting slightly.

“A safeguard?” you echoed, brows furrowing. Where was she going with this?

She nodded, her expression serious. “Yes, a safeguard." she nodded. "Someone to ensure that those less honorable young men don’t overstep their bounds.”   

Max, sensing her intention, raised an eyebrow, his expression silently asking where she was going with this, too. He was already said safeguard, so why was she inclining this?

Lady Bridgerton smiled discreetly, her eyes glinting with determination. “And, I believe I may have found the perfect solution to our little dilemma.”   

Max looked at her with curiosity and slight amusement. “Oh, really?” he asked. “Do enlighten us, Lady Bridgerton.” 

She chuckled, clearly pleased with her own cleverness. “It occurred to me that having a trusted, available member of the family who can keep an eye on things might be beneficial.”   

Max chuckled, a knowing smirk on his face. “A member of the family, you say?" He asked. "And pray tell, who did you have in mind for this esteemed role if not me - her brother?” 

Before Lady Bridgerton could continue, though, he stepped closer, his tone slightly teasing. He leaned in closer to her, a sly smile on his face. “Ah, let me guess, Lady Bridgerton. Is it perhaps a certain eldest son of the Bridgerton family…”   

Lady Bridgerton chuckled, seemingly amused by his guess. “Ah, always astute, aren’t you, Lord Barton?" she retorted. "Indeed, I was thinking of Anthony.” 

Your heart stopped for a moment before it doubled its speed. “What do you mean, Lady Bridgerton?” you wanted to know, brows furrowed slightly.  

She chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the effect her words were having on you. Max observed you with a watchful eye, noticing the slight change in your expression.   

“Well, dear…” she began, her voice smooth and measured. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Anthony has a certain… reputation among the young ladies.”   

Max couldn’t help but bite back a chuckle at this.   

“Lady Bridgerton,” he interjected, his voice light. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?” 

You frowned even more in confusion, gaze flicking between them.  

Lady Bridgerton chuckled softly, amused by your confusion. Max watched you closely, his eyes silently asking if you’d caught onto what they were implying.   

“I’m saying that, perhaps, having Anthony look after you might… deter the less honorable young men from getting too close.”   

Max chuckled quietly, unable to help himself. “Lady Bridgerton, you’re being quite subtle, aren’t you?” he quipped.   

She smiled mischievously. “Well, sometimes subtlety is a lady’s best weapon.” 

You bit your lip. “Are you trying to make it look like Lord Bridgerton is courting me, to scare less honorable men away from me and lift his reputation as a rake?” you wanted to know, cocking a brow.  

Lady Bridgerton chuckled softly, impressed by your astute observation. Max smiled, silently admiring your sharp wit.   

“I must say, you’re quite perceptive, dear,” she admitted. “But yes, that’s essentially the idea.”   

Max chuckled again, enjoying the discussion. “I must admit, it’s a rather clever plan, don’t you think, dearest sister?” 

You frowned at him. Was she trying to manipulate the ton - just like her daughter did last year? “And what does Lord Bridgerton say about this?” you asked.

Lady Bridgerton sighed, her expression slightly concerned. “Unfortunately, Anthony is… less than enthusiastic about such prospects." she admitted. "He’s quite stubborn, that boy.”   

Max chimed in again, a sly smirk on his face. “Ah, yes, quite the reluctant participant, I imagine.” 

It hurt a bit that he didn’t seem interested in a courtship, even though he’d been at your house this morning. You didn’t show it, though, thinking about the offer. “So you’re trying with me and your son what went on with Daphne and the Duke of Hastings?” you asked. “But wouldn’t it result in me having more suitors and your son…” you thought about it. “Either they would leave him in peace, or they would throw themselves at him.” 

Lady Bridgerton chuckled softly at your observation. Max snickered quietly, unable to hold back his amusement. “Ah, you really are quite astute, dearest sister,” he commented, a smirk on his face.   

Lady Bridgerton sighed. “Yes, it’s a bit of a gamble, I must admit. But I believe it’s necessary to at least give it a try.”   

Max laughed slightly, finding this entire situation rather humorous. “Oh, Anthony is going to absolutely love this,” he said sarcastically, unable to hide his amused expression. 

You huffed. “I have the feeling he won't.” 

Lady Bridgerton chuckled softly, her expression hinting at her agreement. Max smirked, his eyes glinting with playful humor.   

“Ah, you’re probably right,” he chimed in. “Anthony isn’t one for being told what to do, particularly when it comes to… well, anything, really.”   

Lady Bridgerton sighed, a mixture of frustration and resignation in her voice. “Yes, he can be quite… difficult." she admitted.

After what happened with his father, he'd built that wall around himself, closing himself off to the world in a sense of way.

And boy, did she hate it.

You nodded. “That seems rather… interesting.” you said. “And you’re sure this will work? I mean, what exactly do you promise yourself from this, Lady Bridgerton?” 

She smiled slightly, appreciating your curiosity. “Well, dear,” she began. “I'm hoping that by having your presence around him, it will somehow… calm his rakish behavior.”   

Max snickered, unable to contain his laughter. “And perhaps it might even improve his own reputation, eh, Lady Bridgerton?”   

Lady Bridgerton nodded. “Yes, that’s the hope, of course.” 

“Well, that either means I’m desirable and he is supposed to only have eyes for me, or it means I’m undesirable, and he will lose his… what did you call it earlier, brother? Appetite?” you said, fingers fumbling with the fabric of your dress.

The idea seemed strange, yet it seemed to promise more time with Anthony.

If he was willing to participate in this.

Max chuckled, amused by your observation. “Ah, you’ve hit the nail on the head, sister." he agreed. "Precisely, the idea is that he shall only have eyes for you.”   

Lady Bridgerton nodded, her expression hopeful. Max raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “And if you are, indeed, undesirable… well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, shall we?” he quipped jokingly. 

You shook your head slightly. “So this all depends on him agreeing, right?” 

Lady Bridgerton sighed, her expression a mixture of determination and mild concern. “Yes, unfortunately, you’re correct. Anthony’s cooperation is essential for this plan to work.”   

Max chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with wry amusement. “And let me tell you, dear, getting Anthony to cooperate when he doesn't want to is like trying to tame a wild animal.” he teased.

You huffed. “I can imagine.” you mumbled. “But tell me, Lady Bridgerton, why me?” 

She smiled slightly, appreciating your directness. “Well, dear,” she began. “I’ve watched you over the years, and I think you’re quite an admirable young woman. You have a certain grace and strength about you that I find quite commendable. Your mother and I always joked about connecting our families. It only seems fitting.”   

You mulled about it for a moment. You could picture your mother and Lady Bridgerton making plans, always having been curious about their tea times when you were younger.

You had to find someone to marry you, and even if Anthony wouldn’t be that one, his attention would surely make more lords interested in you.

“Okay.” you then said slowly.

Lady Bridgerton's expression lit up with hope, her eyes shining with optimism. Max chuckled quietly, a smirk on his face at your unexpected willingness to agree.   

“Excellent,” she said, a hint of relief in her tone. “I’m glad to hear that you’re on board with this plan, dear.”   

Max chuckled softly, still finding the whole situation slightly amusing. “You’re going to be the talk of the ton with this little scheme, dearest sister. Lord Briderton is not going to know what hit him.” 

You nodded. “We shall wait what he says about this.” you said.  

Lady Bridgerton nodded in agreement, a hopeful expression on her face. Max stifled a laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, I have a feeling he will protest quite loudly.” he chimed in. “But I think we’ll eventually wear him down, my dear.”   

Lady Bridgerton chuckled softly, a hint of determination in her tone. “Yes, I’m sure it will require some persuasion." she agreed. "But I’m confident we’ll convince him in the end.” 

“Where is he, may I ask?” you asked, gaze flitting through the park. “I thought he would be with you, seeing as almost your whole family seems gathered here.” 

Lady Bridgerton glanced around as if expecting to see him nearby. Max chuckled quietly, his smirk widening. “Ah, Anthony has a habit of keeping to himself, even at family gatherings,” he said. “He’s probably off in some corner brooding, or perhaps trying to drown himself in a glass of bourbon.” 

Lady Bridgerton rolled her eyes slightly, her expression slightly exasperated. “Yes, my son does enjoy solitary moments.” she said. “And his tendency to brood is… quite remarkable.”   

Max chuckled, his smirk growing wider. “Ah, don’t mind him, dearest sister,” he joked. “He’s just allergic to anything resembling a joyful occasion.” 

You huffed. “That’s great for this… deal.” you said, sarcasm shining through. “How shall this work if he doesn’t want to participate in such activities?” 

Lady Bridgerton sighed, her expression a mix of frustration and determination. “That’s definitely a challenge,” she admitted. “Anthony does have a tendency to… isolate himself sometimes.”   

Max snickered quietly, his smirk betraying his amusement. “Oh, yes, he prefers to wallow in his own misery rather than engage in social activities. It’s quite annoying, really.” 

You sighed. “Great.” you mumbled.  

Lady Bridgerton chuckled slightly, a hint of resignation in her expression. Max rolled his eyes playfully, his smirk growing wider.   

“Oh, don’t worry, dear,” he said. “Anthony may try to resist, but we’ll find a way to drag him out of his brooding cave eventually.” 

You nodded as you saw Lord Pendale approach. “God, no.” you mumbled under your breath, sending him a smile, but hoping he would take a sudden turn and go the other way.  

Lady Bridgerton raised an eyebrow, silently observing the situation.   

“Ah, the illustrious Lord Pendale,” Max quipped, a smirk on his face. “I can see why you’d prefer he doesn’t come over.” 

You kept smiling. “Now would be the perfect time for Lord Bridgerton to appear.” you said to Lady Bridgerton through gritted teeth, keeping your voice quiet.  

She chuckled softly, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Max stifled a laugh, enjoying the unfolding of this little scene.   

“Oh, wouldn’t that be quite the spectacle?” he mused. “The brooding Lord Bridgerton rescuing you from the clutches of Lord Pendale.” 

“I would be so- Lord Pendale.” you cut yourself off to greet Lord Pendale with a small curtsy. 

Lord Pendale approached with a confident smile, his gaze fixated on you. He returned the curtsy, his voice dripping with a false charm.   

“Ah, Miss Featherington,” he greeted, giving you a sly smile. “A pleasure to see you, as always.” 

“Miss Carina Barton.” you corrected him politely, surpressing a huff. “The pleasure is all mine.” 

Lord Pendale furrowed his brow, his expression momentarily taken aback. He recovered quickly though, his charming smile returning.   

“Ah, my apologies, Miss Barton,” he said, a hint of arrogance in his tone. “How silly of me to forget such a significant detail.” 

You bit your tongue to refrain from any sarcastic remark. To be mistaken for a Featherington, was… definitely something to remember. “No worries.” you assured him.

Lord Pendale chuckled, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively. Max observed the interaction silently, a smirk on his face. Lady Bridgerton watched quietly, her expression a mixture of amusement and concern.   

“How is it that someone as… captivating as yourself remains unwed for so long?” Lord Pendale asked, his tone dripping with false flattery. 

You chuckled politely. “Well, I guess I simply haven’t found the right one yet.” you said. “But there’s still plenty of time this season to change that.”  

Lord Pendale chuckled, his smirk widening slightly. Your brother suppressed a snort, enjoying the unfolding conversation. Meanwhile, Lady Bridgerton observed quietly, mentally noting your composure and polite demeanor.   

“Ah, yes, there is indeed plenty of time left this season,” Lord Pendale agreed. “Although with so many gentlemen clamoring for your attention, I’d imagine the decision must be quite… difficult.” 

You smiled. “I’m sure the right one will be chosen in the end.”

You silently pleaded for Anthony to make his appearance. Even though you only engaged with him once after years a day ago, you preferred his presence much more already.  

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” Lord Pendale said, his confidence seemingly unwavering. “I imagine you must have many suitors vying for your favor. Quite the envy of the ton, I must say.” 

You smiled, feigning shyness. “Well, I must have missed it then.” you said.  

Lord Pendale chuckled, his arrogance growing a bit in response to your feigned shyness. Max stifled another chuckle, silently finding this interaction far too amusing.   

“Oh, come now, surely you must know the effect you have on gentlemen,” he said, his tone slightly condescending. “Don’t deny it, my dear. You are a vision to behold.” 

“Thank you, my lord.” you thanked him politely, feigning flattery with a downcast glance.

Lord Pendale’s smirk widened further, seemingly satisfied with your response. “You’re most welcome, my lady,” he replied, his tone dripping with false charm. “A beauty such as yourself deserves nothing but the finest compliments.” 

Your patience thinned with every passing moment, but your mask stayed in tact, as you suddenly saw someone approach out of the corner of your eye: Anthony.  

You could have cried out in luck.

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