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queers-gambit · 2 years

Text

Distraction

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: at a rare family dinner, you have news for your husband.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.9k+

note: i didn't want to like him but the pirate baby war criminal does something to me.

warnings: cursing, spoilers, Aemond being a little shit, basically the dinner scene with Aemond's wife. canon-level incest (?) and dialogue. not edited!! ❗️major season one, episode eight spoilers

"How's this?" You asked Amira, your handmaiden, showing her the sixth dress you've tried on. You observed all angles of yourself in the mirror, smoothing over the material of your dress in worry.

"I like it better," she nodded, admiring your figure. "And you can't even tell you're hiding - "

"Mira," you warned, sighing sharply.

"When are you going to tell him, my Lady?" She demanded, helping you into your shoes as you fixed jewelry around your neck, wrist, ears, and fingers. "It's killing me!" She whined lowly.

"Soon, Mira," you rolled your eyes.

"You've been saying that for a month, and now you're starting to show!" She snipped, hands on her hips. "He's not stupid - "

"He's been distracted as of late," your eyes rolled. "He is not paying attention to me right now, I've time to think."

"I beg to differ, but sure, let's be ignorant."

"Mira," you sighed, or more like whined. Your head tilted back and you sighed sadly, pinning her with an exasperated look.

"I'm being honest, Princess, and I'm telling you the Prince absolutely adores you. How he's not noticed yet is beyond me."

You sheepishly admitted, "I might've... Lied a wee bit."

"And said what?"

"I was bloated from bad fish and my cycle," you shrugged. "He doesn't know much different, and he's been coming to bed in exhaustion that he doesn't much stay awake to notice my growing figure."

"Well," she sighed, hands slapping her thighs as she shrugged with defeat, "this dress hides everything better, it fits nice. It's a winner for tonight's dinner... Just - "

"Don't eat too much," You ended for her, smirking. "I know... I know."

"You should just tell him, Princess. Rid us of this game, please."

"I will..."

"He has the right to know," she whispered.

"He will - just once I figure out what to do."

"What do you - "

"Once I figure out how to be okay with this," you sighed sadly. "Look... I just... Aemond doesn't seemed thrilled by the idea of being a father but his mother insisted on lineage. He only did his duty," you shrugged, fiddling with your fingers as emotion caught in your throat, "and I'm nervous to tell him, because... T-Then it's over."

"What's over?" Amira asked softly.

"The marriage," you sniffled, "the bliss, the partnership. I just become a cast-aside-milk-machine."

"You know the Prince would never - "

"Truthfully, Mira, we don't know," you cut her off sadly, "because nobody can predict what Aemond will say or do next."

"He wants to be a father," Mira nodded, but both of you froze when a new voice asked from the doorway,

"Who wants to be a father?"

Recognizing your husband's voice, Mira was swift to answer when you froze in fear, "My husband's brother. He's trying for a baby with his wife and I was telling the Princess how excited he is because he really wants to be a father."

"Hmm," Aemond considered a moment, stepping into the room in-full and letting the door close softly behind him. "Well, speaking of my dear wife, are you almost ready, love? We've dinner arrangements."

His eye raked over your form and when he settled on your face, he smirked with mischief. Gulping from the flush of heat his gaze brought, you glanced at Mira before affirming, "I'm ready, my Prince Ameond."

His brow furrowed as Mira showed herself out, Ameond asking, "Since when do you address me so formally, my love?"

"Oh, well, just - you know, we're going to have dinner with your whole family, Ameond, I just wanted to remember formalities and, you know, my place..."

"Your place," he reaffirmed as he reached for you, "is at my side, sweet girl. You worry for nought, my family adores you."

You sighed lightly, "As if you gave them a choice but only to accept me."

His smirked broadened, "You're right - I gave them none. Come, you're worrying yourself silly. It's nothing, my sweet girl, Father called for this dinner to celebrate us being together."

"Might you promise me something, then?"

Aemond sighed, "You know I cannot break promises to you."

"Exactly," you smirked lightly, feeling his arms tighten around your waist to keep you pressed to his front. You worried he'd feel the small curve of your belly, but distracted him by asking, "Do not antagonize anyone while your King Father is present, my love, please. He's old, he's sick, let us grant his wish of having a meal together - in harmony, in peace..."

He sighed again, letting his eye shoot over your face as you pouted lightly. "All right, my love," he agreed, "I will behave myself while Father is present."

"Thank you," you whispered, thinking that was the end of it. Your Lord husband smiled and took your hand to tangle his fingers with yours, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

"Shall we, my love?" He muttered softly.

"Hmm," you hummed, kissing him again. "All right, yeah, let us go. Shouldn't keep the family waiting."

He smirked, "Come."

Aemond liked keeping you close, moving from your shared rooms and down the halls to reach the private dining room the Royal Family was to take their meal in tonight. Upon entering, you discovered the fires ablaze and torches set to provide ample lighting, making you smile as the room was the perfect temperature for your pregnant, flushed-flesh.

As custom dictates, you bowed to the Queen Mother first; greeting the Hand of the King after, then with similar bows, greeted the crowned heir to the Iron Throne, your birth mother, Princess Rhaenyra. You gaze shifted to your mother's husband, the Prince Daemon, your step-father, and offered him a polite greeting. Truth of it was that you were always cautious of Daemon, and the way he looked at you was hard to decipher; never knowing if he even liked you or not. You skin was toned down from your father's, the late Lord Laenor Velaryon, but your hair was as bright as your mother and father's, and all who shared your blood.

Your marriage to Aemond was a bid for peace after your younger brother, Jace, took the young Aemond's eye about 6-7 years prior. To placate tension, your hand was offered only 2 years ago, and it turned out to be a surprising love-match. You and Aemond grew closer after the years apart, and though you tried to understand all sides of the situation, you knew the truth behind the loss of his eye, and only tried to offer comfort for your husband on day's he became overwhelmingly insecure.

You loved your family, but you loved the man you shared your life with now and did your best to keep the peace.

You greeted your brothers and cousins before looking back at your mother, who grinned in excitement.

Your mother breathed your name and stood from her seat, making you match her excitement as you let go of Aemond's hand to hug her tightly. "Mother," you gasped into the tight embrace. "Oh, how you glow! Pregnancy has always agreed with you. How are you feeling?"

"I'm well, my sweet love," Rhaenyra nodded, pulling away to gently pet a stray hair from your forehead. "Your hair's grown so much in these years."

"Do you like it?"

"You look beautiful, my love, I adore it," she promised, squeezing your hand. "How are you fairing?" She glanced over your shoulder to your husband - who was greeting his own siblings.

"I am doing well, Mother, you do not need worry," you assured. "Aemond is good and kind to me, I promise. I have known only love and warmth from him, and I feel I should both apologize to you for protesting the arrangement, and then thank you for it..." She smiled fondly, caressing your jaw and chin. "It has worked out better than I ever could imagine."

"I am delighted to hear it," your mother spoke with so much love and kindness that a light sheen of tears coated your eyes. "You look well, love," she sighed lightly, petting over your long hair. "You know I miss you daily, my sweet girl. It is not the same without you."

"I miss you, too," you swore. "More than words..."

She sighed, "Well, go on, we should find our seats..."

"We'll talk again soon," you assured softly, giving her hands another squeeze before breaking apart. You nodded to her husband, "Prince Daemon."

"Princess," he nodded back, watching you move around the table to snag Aemond's hand in yours, and together, the two of you made it to your seats at the head of the table. Aemond pulled your chair out and let you sit before taking his seat between you and his grandsire, leaving you between him and his sister, the Princess Helaena.

"Good evening," Otto muttered to you, nodding with a soft smile. "You look beautiful, Princess."

"Thank you, my Lord," you smiled. "You look well yourself. And you, Princess," you directed at Helaena, "that dress befits you."

"Thank you, my Lady," she smiled, "you're glowing... In this light," she spoke with a knowing twinkle in her eye.

"Love?" Aemond muttered, a servant holding a goblet. "Would you like wine tonight?"

"Oh, please," You accepted, Aemond taking the goblet to pass along to you. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"Hm," he acknowledged with a small smirk, raising his own to his lips as he observed the whole of the table and slowly turned in his chair to crowd into you. "Say the word, love, and we'll leave..."

"We're fine," You assured in a soft whisper, bowing your head to speak in his ear. "You are on edge, my Prince."

You could almost physically feel his nerves.

"With reason," he sighed, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck. "Aegon wants a word, my love. I'll be a moment."

"Go on," you sighed, smiling with a nod as he stood from his seat; leaving you with a parting kiss on the top of your head. The table was still being dressed for dinner and the Targaryen-Hightower families all sat around as they all waited for the King to arrive. Aemond and Aegon stood for their conversation at the corner of the table, leaving Helaena to rise to her knees in her chair; giggling with you over whatever riddles plagued her mind in that moment. Otto smiled as he watched you two for a moment.

From your place, you could feel the tension from Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra, knowing all of their feud from your limited years at court prior to tonight. When the doors opened and a procession of Kings Guard was seen, you all pushed from your wooden chairs to stand for the King's arrival; your husband reaching for your waist to stand together as a united front. Aemond always took your union very seriously as your birth appearance only left room for rumors to fester about your brother's lineage, and Aemond took immense pride in calling you wife.

You, who had the color of your father's skin, and the hair color of your mother; you, who was a highly desired prize to the courts; you, who was desired over others, and looked at only as a trophy - but being that you wed a man who had known you your whole life, he treated you as much more. You were proud of your marriage, and stood tall at his side.

The King was carried in a chair that would double as his seat for the evening meal, requiring a set of guards to carry him up to the table before being lowered.

When everyone was allowed to reclaim their seat, Aemond held a hand to the servant boy who meant to push your chair in; smirking at you as he took the liberty himself. Say what you wanted about the lad, but his mother raised him right...

Much could not be said for his brother, but Aegon was not your worry.

Aemond took his seat after, letting his hand drift to your thigh in invitation; smirking again when both your hands tangled with his. You noticed both of your brothers now sat with their betrothed, who were Daemon's daughters with your Aunt Laena - who passed seemingly only days before your father. Both tragedies left your mother, Rhaenyra, and uncle (?) Daemon available to marry, and you remember standing on your ancestral home of Dragonstone, watching the Old Valyrian customs come to life as they wed.

A beautiful ceremony in truth.

Around the table, all members of the Targaryen-Velaryon-Hightower family claimed their seats as King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, was set down at the large gap separating your mother and step-mother...

How odd to think about the relations around this table.

As the guards retreated, Viserys croaked, "How good it is... To see you all tonight... Together."

You smiled at Aemond and let your head fall into the crook of his neck when he glanced at you; his arm readjusting to better hold your hand, both attentively listening to the King's words, but not before his chin caressed the top of your head when he returned your brief show of affection.

The tension at the table was nearly palpable, leaving Alicent to ask her husband, "Prayer before we begin?"

"Yes," Viserys agreed.

Everyone took proper prayer form, you glancing at your seemingly confused mother for a moment before to your lap as Alicent lead the prayer: "May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith men the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the Gods give him rest."

You ignored the under-breath huffy responses to Queen Alicent wishing for rest upon a man slain in court today, nodding when the prayer was over and lifting your head to reclaim your husband's hand in your own. Viserys continued, "This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our Houses." You nudged Aemond gently when you saw him staring at Jace with unnerve. "A toast to the young Princes and their betrothed!"

"Hear, hear," Daemon mocked as he took up his goblet, your husband spying your smirk of amusement.

And though he lowered his voice so his father did not hear, Aegon's words reached your own ears as he muttered to your brother, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."

Jace let his goblet set to the table forcefully, catching your eyes as you subtly shook your head at him. He ignored Prince Aegon's antagonizing words.

"Let us toast, as well, Prince Lucerys... The future Lord of the Tides."

"Hear, hear," his future sister-cousin toasted with a soft smirk.

"You'll be great," his cousin-fiancé assured.

"Love," you reprimanded softly, catching his stare again. He only sighed at you as Aegon was turning to Jace again.

"You do know how the act is done, I assume? As least, in principle? Where to put your cock and all that?"

"Let it be, cousin."

"You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed," Jace defended, keeping his voice low so the adults would not hear him.

"Hmm," Aegon sighed, nodding once before sitting forward in his seat. You sighed to yourself, feeling Aemond's hand stroking over the meat of your inner thigh and leaning into his arm slightly.

But all came to a stand-still when Viserys grunted and stood uneasily to his feet, leaning forward on the table to hold himself up. His words were spoken between huffs of breath, "It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table." He looked around with meaning, "The faces most dear to me in all the world... Yet grown so distant from each other... In the years past."

Aemond blinked once, then twice, and lowered his gaze to the table before looking down at you. You offered a silent smile and pet over his hand. But both of your smiles dropped when you looked up again, watching Viserys reach for the latch that kept the golden facemask in place; realizing his intention. You were used to Aemond's injury and scar, but the King's was something else entirely, and with your pregnancy stomach - you were unsure how you would react seeing it.

Aemond's hand squeezed yours when the King dropped his mask and gave a front-row-viewing to his decaying face. Aegon and Helaena refused to look, their eyes set to the table as Viserys looked around; Rhaenyra seeing the extent of his illness, and how his children could not look at him for longer than a few seconds.

Viserys continued, "My own face... Is no longer a handsome one," he snorted lightly at his own joke, "if indeed it ever was. But tonight... I wish you to see me... As I am." Otto watched the King directly, boldly, and your eyes could only handle small glances, focusing on the way Aemond was distracting you with his fingers running up and down your thigh in your lap. "Not just a King," Viserys continued through haggard breathing, "But your Father!" He turned his eye to Daemon, spitting, "Your brother!" His head turned to Alicent, "Your husband." And then he looked to the middle of the table, "Your grandsire. Who may not, it seems... Walk for much longer among you." He slammed the gold mask to punctuate his point, all eyes staring at him now. "Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances." You felt emotion swell in your chest as Aemond's hand paused to squeeze your hand. "If not for the sake of the crown... Then for the sake of this old man! Who loves you all so dearly!"

He panted in exhaustion as he fell back into his seat with Alicent's aid; fixing the mask back over the decaying half of his face. Suddenly, your mother, Rhaenyra, was shooting up from her seat with her goblet in hand; making you sit up straighter almost subconsciously. Aemond fought off his knowing smirk as he watched your mother hold her goblet with intention.

After a moment, the crowned Princess spoke, "I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen." When Alicent had helped secure the gold mask, she looked up in curiosity. "I love my father," she continued to Alicent. "But I must admit that no one has stood... More loyally by his side than his good wife." After a meaningful look, your mother spoke to the rest of the table, "She has tended to him with... Unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude... And my apology."

When your mother's eyes caught your own as she sat down, you nodded with your own toast, "To the Queen Mother."

The others echoed your words and took their obligatory sip of wine, watching Alicent accept your mother's words. "Your graciousness move me deeply, Princess." Daemon sat forward at the Queen's words, your mother watching her as your own husband seemingly stilled to watch the tense exchange. "We are both mothers... And we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow." Your mother accepted her words, in turn; and the Queen Alicent Hightower stood to her feet, and hoisted her cup high, "I raise my cup to you and to your House." After a moment, she ended, "You will make a fine Queen."

You smirked gently as your mother fought off her emotion, raising your cup again to call, "To Princess Rhaenyra, our future Queen!"

The rest of the table followed suit, and with King Viserys, took their gulps of wine. Aemond smirked and pecked your temple, earning your attention for you to grin at him - feeling as if this was a perfect moment to announce to your husband and family that you were pregnant. But his attention drifted when his brother drained his goblet, cleared his throat, and stood from his seat.

He sighed and kept close watch as you silently turned your attention as well. Aemond knew better than anyone how protective you were of your brothers, and though you shared different traits in appearance, they were still your blood, and you, and your gorgeous green dragon, Kasta, would defend them until your death day.

You could not make out the words Aegon was muttering to your cousin, but you knew the lad liked to instigate; his farce of pouring himself a new goblet of wine only getting him so far.

Whatever was said upset the Prince enough for his hands to bang on the table as he stood; Aegon's smirk assuring you he meant for this reaction. "Jace," you heard Rhaena try to intercede.

But as Aegon made for his seat, your husband stood to his feet, and stared Jace down as if in challenge to say anything. The table all stilled, and even Viserys, who had witnessed your husband ferocity, waited with held breath. "My love," you whispered, reaching for Aemond's sleeve to give a simple tug. "You promised," you reminded softly, begging him to sit down again. But when his fist formed, you stood from your seat to press into his side, whispering urgently, "Aemond, please, do not do this, I am begging you."

His arm slithered around you to keep you at his side as Jace only pounded his fist into Aegon's shoulder in a show of good faith; noting the way Aemond went rigid even under your soothing touch.

Jace toasted with his own goblet, "To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years," Jace glanced from Luke to you and Aemond, "but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And it is obvious the love, devotion, and respect you show my sister - and for that, I give both gratitude and thanks." He paused to look at Aegon, who looked sour at the show of responsibility and educated-tongue. "And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your families good health, dear uncles. Or, should I say, dear uncle, and brother," he smiled at you after, seeing you return it with all-teeth.

But when Aemond's hand tightened on your waist in anger, you whispered again with urgency, "Please, let it go."

Behind you, Jace had gripped Aegon's shoulder, giving a tight squeeze, before another friendly fist pound - making the Prince reply tightly, "To you as well."

"A moment," you called, making Aemond pause in his descent to his chair, and prayed you could cause reason to smile again, "because I'd like to toast my good and loving husband." He offered you a solemn smile, but cocked his head in confusion. "And... I'd like to take this moment, before our families, to share the good news..."

"Love," Aemond whispered in shock, Alicent perking up as Otto did. "You speak what I think you do?"

You nodded, glancing at the table, but telling Aemond, "I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby, the Seven's heard us at last, my Prince."

There was a round of cheers and applause as Aemond breathed in relief and pulled you in, letting both his hands caress your cheeks as he kissed you tenderly. "Truly?" He muttered, making tears brim your waterline.

"Yes," you confirmed, feeling one of his hands drop to press against you gently swelling womb. "Just a bit over three months in."

He laughed and pulled you in for a proper hug, the table sending their congratulations to you both - and you foolishly thought you were successful in distracting Aemond enough. You took your seats again, him fully turned to keep his arms around you, as the family all muttered in good tidings.

But above them, you could hear Helaena mutter, "Beware the beast beneath the boards."

You didn't get to question it because you were leaning over to give Otto's hand a squeeze - thanking him for his good tidings. Your mother caught your eye after, giving you a bright and happy grin; silently toasting to you, making you return the motion and take a sip.

Thinking you had ended the toasts for the evening, imagine the surprise when Helaena, a usually quiet girl, stood from her seat as if it burned her. Aemond and you both paused to look up, listening as she spoke, "I would like to toast Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon. 'Tisn't so bad," she assured sincerely. "Mostly, he just ignores you..." Then, a thought came to her, "Except sometimes when he's drunk."

You honestly didn't mean to, but you laughed a little - eyes widening as you look at Aemond with your hand over your mouth. But he chuckled, too; and dare you say it, but you swore Otto let out a singular chuckle to his granddaughter's words. In fact, you knew he did, when Helaena found her seat again and he nodded at her, muttering, "Good."

"Let us have some music," Viserys spoke, and a moment later, the live musicians struck a tune. Curiosity burned in your gut when Jace stood from his seat, muttered to his fiancé, and then stepped around the table to approach Helaena with an offered hand.

"Jace," You warned your brother when he halted beside you; watching as Aegon could not tear his sights away from his wife as she accepted, and let the Prince lead her to a small clearing for a dance.

Aegon turned and shared a hardened look with his brother. Aemond let his chair push back some to give him a proper view of his surroundings, taking your hand, and encouraging you closer. You sighed with mild worry, muttering, "Won't you eat something, my love? Please?"

He hummed, tearing his gaze back to you. "No, sweet girl, you go on. Eating for two now, aren't you?"

You sighed lightly, "W-Was this alright?"

"What?"

"Telling you here?" You wondered, genuine fear flooding your chest.

Aemond sighed and leaned forward to crowd into you again, despite the head of the table posing with natural privacy. "My love... This is," he sighed lightly and took your hands in his, meeting your gaze, "The best news you could've given me - in any way. But in front of our families? That is special, indeed," he smirked some, leaning in to press a linger kiss to your forehead. "Worry not, sweet wife, for this is joyous news. I am just..."

"Uneasy?" You filled in with a frown. "I know this family likes to push buttons but please do not say or do anything - not with the King here, my love."

"I know," he assured softly, "I made you a promise, I will not break it."

You nodded in response, letting his lips meet yours for a slow kiss, his nose nuzzling against yours before he leaned back in his chair - nodding at your plate to silently encourage you to take another bite.

Some minutes passed and after laughing with Otto over something silly, you caught your husband's gaze again. You offered him a small look before leaning in, making him sit up and bow his head to hear your words, "You're staring again."

He chuckled, "Perhaps I am enjoying the view."

"Oh, of me eating, is it?"

"Of my beautiful wife, yes," he smirked, leaning back again, and leaving you to get sucked back into whatever was being spoken of now. You did not notice how the King gazed fondly at you all, taking note of his gathered family, until he was wincing and moaning in pain.

Slowing your chewing, you watched silently as Alicent called for the guards, and Viserys was then being pulled away, and carried away from the table. You stood with respect as he was dismissed, Aemond's hands smoothing over your waist to guide you back into your seat - a moment before he did the same.

Aemond sat at an angle, not eating, and leaving place at the table before him for the servants to raise and set a roasted pig before him. You eyed it wearily, knowing of the torment your brothers and Aegon put Aemond through for being dragonless in his youth, and tried not to think further of it. You reached to lay your hand on Aemond's knee in comfort, just placing your next bite to your mouth as Luke's snickering amusement enraged Aemond.

"Don't," you gasped after you swallowed when you noted the way his entire body turned to regard your younger brother; sighing in defeat when Aemond's fist rapidly pounded into the table's top as he climbed to his feet and swiftly picked up his goblet.

"Final tribute," Aemond proposed, ignoring the way you sighed and remained still in your seat. When the hall quieted and turned their attention to him, Aemond continued, "To the health of my nephews: Jace," he looked to the boy still-standing, "Luke," his sights turned to your brother that slashed his eye from its socket, "and Joffrey. Each of them handsome," your eyes met Alicent's, as if anticipating his words, "wise..." He paused, the tension brewing to a new height.

"Love, please," you whispered, watching him nod silently, and then finish,

"Strong."

"Aemond," his mother tried, but was ignored.

"Come!" Aemond barked as you slowly stood to your feet out of worry; his arm extending to wrap around you and settle you on his other side - as if to protect you. "With my sweet wife, let us drain our cups to these three..." Aegon rose his goblet with enthusiasm, ever the one to hide behind his brother's brute, words, and strength, "Strong boys."

"I dare you to say that again," Jace barked.

"Why?" Aemond instigated as his head snapped to look at your brother, you sharing a look of unease with Alicent. "'Twas only a compliment." He let go of you as Jace started forward, turning instantly to meet him. "Do you not think yourself Strong?"

Luke stood in anger as Aegon met him, Jace launching his fist into Aemond's jaw - making you wince slightly upon the impact, and making you call your brother's name in protest. You felt Otto raise to his feet and pull you back from the fray, as Aegon smashed Luke's head to the table. "THAT IS ENOUGH!" Alicent raged.

Seemingly unfazed by the fist to his face, Aemond smirked at Jace before pushing the younger boy back off his feet. He sprung up with a growl - making two guards lunge forward to restrain him - as your husband turned with a broad grin and his goblet, still in hand.

Jace and Luke were both restrained as you freed yourself from Otto's grasp to reach for your husband, who sat his goblet down in order to hold onto you. "What was that? Huh? You lost your mind finally?" You demanded in disappointment, hearing your brothers still growling and grunting with effort to free themselves.

Alicent descended upon you two, demanding in a lowered tone, "Why would you say such a thing before these people!?"

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother," Aemond rounded on her, one arm still tight around your waist. "Mm," he considered, raising his voice as he let go of you to turn, "though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs."

Jace broke free and charged forward as Daemon barked, "Wait, wait!" With a silent finger held, he stalked between the two Princes; easing Jace backwards without uttering a word. When the boy was back by his brother and both of their betrothed, your mother was demanding of them, "Go to your quarters. All of you go, now."

Daemon turned and settled his sights on Aemond, making the hair on your neck stand on end with worry as you held your husband's hand tightly - as if it would keep him at bay. Your step-father came to a halt and sighed, still staring at Aemond, and you knew that just because your husband was unhinged, didn't mean you were, and Daemon genuinely made you nervous. He was undefeated and rumor of his win in the Stepstones was told to you directly by your father, who bore witness to the Rogue Prince taking the entire beach by himself.

Daemon was not someone you were eager to cross, but your husband loved a good challenge - and by the look in both man's eye, you knew they had met their matches.

Aemond sized Daemon up for a moment before your hand tightened in his, begging quietly, "Can we go, please?"

He hummed in response and tightened his hand in yours, leading you past your mother and step-father, but pausing when Rhaenyra spoke your name. Your mother reached for you, smiling, "Congratulations, my sweet girl. You'll make a beautiful mother."

"Thank you," you whispered to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek, and whisper, "I'm so sorry."

She winked at you in return, letting Aemond take your hand again and lead you onward into the torch-lined hallway. You sighed when you pushed from the room, leading in the other direction of the guest rooms, meaning, you did not have to worry about running into your brothers.

"You're angry," he mentioned in observation after a few moments.

"No," you answered quietly, leading up to your chamber door. "Just uneasy."

"Over me?"

"Over all of this," you admitted softly, entering first and hearing him follow. When the door closed, you continued, "It pains me to feel and see the divide in the family. And I walk both lines of it..."

"'S not easy," he agreed.

"No, it's not," you sighed, pulling your jewelry off. "And now isn't the time for petty games, my love. We've a child on the way, the time for grudges has passed - though I will not tell you to let this go." You turned to look at him in the firelight. "I know the pain caused, and I know what was taken from you..." He lowered his gaze, making you slowly approach him and reach for either hand. "But I need my husband with me, and not lost to some vendetta. We're having a baby, Aemond, and I'd like for them to know their uncles."

He sighed, nodding as he wrapped his arms up your waist. "Aye... I'd want that, too. But they can't call me brother, please, my love - "

You chuckled, "I will make sure they understand. We do not have to see them often, but the times we do, I'd like for some semblance of peace and normalcy."

He nodded with understanding, "Aye. For you, my love, I can do that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," He sighed.

"Then please - no more Strong comments," you begged quietly. "They're leaving soon, please, do not instigate this further. You do not have to see them again, but I'd like to see my siblings off."

He nodded, "Whatever you want, my sweet."

"Well, I want my brothers and husband to get along but that's not happening, is it?"

"Not likely," he teased. "But I will do my best to restrain myself."

"I only ask that you try," you agreed, pecking his lips. "Now, are you gonna run off anymore or do I have my husband for the night?"

He smirked, "You have me, my love. I am here with you."

"Good," you smirked, letting a hand snake along the back of his neck to pull him down; searing a heated kiss to his lips.

[ series masterlist ]

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond one eye #aemond hotd #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd imagine

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babygorewhore · 5 months

Text

Touch her and Die

On your drive to your best friends Sarah’s house, your car breaks down and you’re attacked. But Rafe comes to your rescue. Her older brother you’ve barely spoken too. And he’s eager to replace your fear into pleasure.

Yeah okay I needed to get this out too omg. “Touch her and die.” Is absolutely him. Idk when Prey part three will come out because I need to flesh out another idea. But yeah this man has me in a boxer hold.

Moodboard

Warnings! Reader gets hit and Attempted assault (not by Rafe) Violence! Female recieving oral! Praise! Dark! Rafe (Kinda but canon he would do this) very short and not proofread okay bye.

You were running as fast as you could down the sun setting dark road. Your car broke down as you were driving to your best friend Sarah Cameron’s house. You called her repeatedly but she didn’t answer and normally you’d have the patience but it was cold and rainy. You had decided to walk to the nearest fishing shack when you heard someone whistling.

A man in a hood was obviously following you and gaining momentum. “Hey, I fucking see you!” He shouted.

That’s when you started running. Thankfully you wore casual shoes but your legs were growing tired as minutes went by and he wasn’t letting up. “Stop fucking running, bitch!”

Your hair was whipping around your face, sticking from the rain as your arms flailed. You dropped your phone a dozen feet ago. “Help!” You started screaming. “Someone help!” But there were no houses nearby. Only a swamp.

You distantly heard a car as a hand grabbed the back of your shirt. “No!” You shrieked as you were thrown on the gravel. The man was middle aged, lust and anger lighting up his dark eyes.

His intent was clear as he ripped off your jacket, exposing your low cut t-shirt. “Perfect tits,” He licked his teeth and you kicked him.

He let go for a second, giving you time to turn on your side and attempt to claw yourself away. “Get off of me!”

“Shut the fuck up!” The blow came across your face. A hard backhanded slap. Tears sprang in your eyes as he covered your mouth with his free hand.

Your heart was slamming in your chest and you had no idea how this would end.

That was until you heard rapid footsteps approaching. A blur of a tall figure went past your blurry vision.

“Get the fuck off her!” A deep voice bellowed and the weight was ripped off your body. You gasped for air, coughing from the anxiety that froze your whole body.

You sat up on your elbows and gasped. Rafe Cameron had tackled the man, straddled him as his own jacket started sticking to his body. His hair falling in front of his eyes. “Motherfucker,” He growled and clenched his fist.

He started punching him, holding him by the shirt and wrestling him easily in place as his beating became relentless. “Don’t. You. Ever. Fucking. Touch. Her! She’s. Mine!”

Rafe was probably starting to black out. The man’s face was completely bloody, his nose crooked and his eyes were shut. The sounds were wet and another crunch came from his fist flying. You didn’t want him to go to prison for murder so you quickly scrambled to your feet.

“Rafe! Stop!!” He didn’t hear you.

“RAFE!” You screamed louder, causing him to jolt and freeze. He spun around, still holding him by the collar and his eyes were wild. Blue irises blown out by his pupils.

“It’s okay, let’s go. He’s probably dead.” You whispered, almost inaudible as a storm started crowding the sky. Rafe cast him a dark look and threw him down. His shirts were dripping with rain and blood.

Rafe walked over to you and his hand settled on either side of your cheeks. You flinched, pain started to settle in from the slap and he shook his head. “My poor girl, I couldn’t get here soon enough.”

You were taken back by the affection in his touch and voice. He barely paid any attention to you when you were over. Only a nod in passing and a friendly hello. You on the other hand were obsessed much to Sarah’s dread. His handsome face softened as he wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted you bridal style. “Come on. Let’s get you to the car.”

His hold was strong and secure as he placed you into the gray SUV back seat where there was more room for you to stretch. Your legs were sore from running, your throat scratchy from screaming. Rafe rummaged around and brought out an extra shirt, a long sleeved white one that you would swim in.

“Here. This is nice and dry,” he said softly.

Without a care, you lifted off your soaked shirt, exposing your breasts in your bra as you shimmied his on. His eyes never left yours.

Rafe was too tall to fit in comfortably with you but he managed to shrink himself into the floor in front of you. “Shouldn’t bruise too bad.” His mouth pressed to a thin line. “I should make sure the fucker is dead.”

“No, please don’t leave me,” you started crying openly, clutching at his shirt. “I don’t want to be alone. You saved me,”

“Shhh, no don’t cry, baby. I’m here. Thank god I was driving by,” He cooed and his long digits cupped your jaw while his other skimmed your shorts around your hips.

“I can’t stay away from you anymore. You need me. Need me to protect you, hold you and…” Rafe leaned up and pressed his lips to yours.

You eagerly returned the kiss, opening your mouth and sucking his bottom lip. You needed the distraction and his entirely dark demeanor.

Rafe expertly unbuttoned your shorts with one hand, his ravaging mouth inhaling every breath, his tongue against yours with a pornographic moan.

Your own fingers locked in his blonde strands and pulled. You needed him closer, impossibly close. He defended you. Willing to kill for you.

“No one touches you, no one lays a hand on my girl. You’ve always been my fucking girl.” Rafe grunts as rage radiates off him as he rips away.

He drags off your panties. Wet from both outside and your own arousal. His big fingers spread you open as he sinks lower and lifts your thighs over his shoulders. “This is all mine. This cunt is mine.”

Rafe's face buried in your pussy and a whimper escapes you as his tongue lays flat and laps at your clit with a moderate speed. You were grasping at anything, your mind going hazy as he rolled your hips against his face, making you grind as he fucked you with his tongue.

He dipped it inside you, pressing through your tight walls as you cried harder. “Please make me cum, please,”

“Good girl, that’s it. Beg for it,” He said with desperate commands. “That’s what I needed to hear.”

Your core tightened, your stomach tensing as a bolt hit you with more intensity than you’d ever made yourself cum. You spilled all over his still moving lips and his chin. He let you ride it out, satisfied with your submissive and grateful attitude.

Rafe pulled back, the lower half of his face gripping with your cum, and he swiped it away with the back of his hand. “Hmmm. I love the taste of a good girl. But let’s go. I need to make sure you’re feeling completely taken care of.”

Tagging @scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @slvt4jamesmarch @imyourdaninow @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @reidsbtch @chrrymunson

#rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe Cameron smut #rafe Cameron angst #Rafe Cameron imagine #rafe Cameron female reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe Cameron hurt comfort #dark! rafe cameron

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

Note

Thanks for sending this lovely surprise in, Cia! 🥰 this gif tho…🥺🥺🥺 it immediately made me think of my mini-series, Girl Dad.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Loud Sounds

Tommy Shelby x Reader (from the mini-series Girl Dad)

Warnings: ptsd fueled episode (brought on by sound)

Tommy and his daughter, Thea, are out on Arrow House’s grounds. Thea asked if her father could take her fishing for the day and Tommy, surprisingly, agreed. (Y/N) was rather pregnant with their second child, and Tommy knew she needed a rest.

With their rods in hand, Tommy still managed to get Thea’s favorite horse, Sammy, out of the stable and the two rode him to the pond that was on the property.

Things were going well. Tommy had shown Thea how to properly cast the line and the little three and a half year old was more than happy with reeling in lily pads and soggy sticks. Tommy was happy that he was able to spend some quality time with his daughter; he’d been guilty of thrusting himself fully into his business these past several weeks.

But the baby was coming soon, so Tommy decided to cut back on the hours in his office. He even found that the more time he spent with his family, the less he was trying to find ways to quiet his mind.

He was usually ok with loud sounds, bangs in particular, and horses getting startled, so having this happen truly scared him. Afterwards he reasoned that maybe it was because the two sounds happened together, but in the moment he shutdown.

There was either a car that misfired, or someone in the woods shot their weapon. The loud bang that came from it startled Sammy to the point where he was rearing back and whinnying loudly.

Hearing these sounds made Tommy hit the ground; his mind transported back to France. He slid down the slight slope of the pond, flattening his body as best he could against the mud as he covered his head with his arms; waiting for the imending gun and canon-fire. He squeezed his eyes shut, prepared for it once again.

But it didn’t come. Instead, the sweet voice of his daughter filled the silence that returned after the horse had calmed down. “What’s wrong, daddy?”

Her voice made Tommy open his eyes and look around. He was breathing heavily, adrenaline still coursing through him and he was still able to hear his heart beating in his ears, but that was the only sound. Removing only one of his arms from his head, he checked his surroundings. It quickly became apparent that he wasn’t in France. Then he saw Thea. She was looking at him with an expression that was a mix of confusion and worry.

“Daddy?” she asked again, her head tipping to the side as she made her confusion even more clear.

“Noth…nothing, sweetheart. Nothing’s wrong,” he told her, not trusting his voice enough to sound confident at first.

“Mumma’s not going to be happy that you got your shoes and pants wet,” she pointed out in a warning tone, making Tommy realized that the lower half of his legs were now submerged in the pond.

“I don’t think she will be,” Tommy agreed with his daughter, taking a few more steadying breaths. He hated that he’d reacted like that; especially in front of Thea…but it was thanks to Thea that he was able to snap out of it. She quickly made him realize that he was no longer in France.

“I can help you up, daddy,” she then said to him, extending her hand out as she crouched down next to where he was laying.

Tommy’s heart instantly swelled at her offer, wondering how he managed to be blessed with a child who had such a pure soul. “I’ll get up on my own, love. Thank you though,” he politely turned down her offer, pulling himself up, out of the water then so that he was standing again.

“All better?” Thea asked, looking up at him now.

“All better,” Tommy nodded, sending her a smile, making one form on the little girl’s face.

The creaking of the door made Tommy glance up from the paper he was reading over. He decided that he’d take some time alone in his office after the incident that happened at the pond. He brought the newspaper down to his lap when he saw that (Y/N) was in the doorway. He smiled at her, silently waving her over.

(Y/N) listened, moving into the room and shutting the door behind her. She waited until she was a step or two away from him to finally speak. “Thea told me about what happened at the pond today,” she said softly, testing the waters to see if he wanted to talk about it or not. Tommy was always hit or miss when it came topics such as these. She didn’t want to push him if he didn’t feel comfortable with it.

“She told me about my pants and shoes then, eh?” he asked, chuckling slightly he rubbed the back of his head. He looked down at his lap as his smile faded, thinking back to what had happened earlier. “It was just loud sounds, love. They happened at the same time and…” he trailed off, exhaling the rest of his breath as a sigh.

(Y/N) sent him a sympathetic smile, knowing how tough it was for him to express these types of things. The fact that he even began talking about it was a rarity. “I know,” she began, catching herself before continuing, “well I don’t actually know, but…”

“I know what you mean,” he cut her off, seeing that she was getting ready to talk herself into a circle. “I’m fine now…got over it pretty quickly once I realized Thea was there. She helped me,” he told her, sending her a closed-mouth smile.

“She didn’t think much of it,” she informed him, smiling back, “just thought it was funny that you got wet.”

Tommy chuckled at her statement, waving her over to sit with him. (Y/N) obliged, happily taking a seat on his lap. “Thanks for checking on me,” he mumbled against the skin of her neck before he pressed a kiss to it.

“Of course, love,” she smiled at him before she rested her head against his shoulder.

They sat in the comfortable silence for a few minutes before Tommy spoke again: “maybe I ought to go take Thea fishing again,” he mused, his hand brushing lazy circles against her swollen abdomen, “she really seemed to like it.”

“You should,” (Y/N) answered, nodding the best she could with her head rested against his shoulder, a smile forming on her lips.

“Maybe I’ll even take this one out there too,” he continued, referring to the child that would be born any day now.

“Even better,” (Y/N)’s smile grew as she lifted her head and pressed a kiss to his lips.

So I got a but carried away with this one 😅 I hope you enjoyed it!

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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undercoveravenger · 10 months

Text

In Your Arms

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Male Reader

Requested: Yes

Request(s): “I heard you wanted HungerGames and came running 🏃‍♀️ Alright so it’s after the book series and Finnick and reader are finally living the life they want and obviously Finnick is alive and well because fuck that he deserved so much better. Finnick isn’t on his capital diet and he has a little fat on his body and reader loves it and always touches it but Finnick gets insecure because he thinks reader hates it.” + “Can I request a finnick x male reader with angst and comfort where they comfort each other after the quarter quell?”

A/N: Combining these two requests since they seemed like they could fit together well

—--

For the first time since the revolution, Finnick wakes up alone. He is cold - the damp sand at his back has long since lost its warmth - and freezing water laps at his legs as he jolts upright. His first instinct is that he’s back in the Arena - that something, someone, is coming after him. He scrambles to his feet, sand sucking his feet down in a way that feels claustrophobic rather than the way it normally grounds him and the cold rain plasters his hair to his face.

Thunder booms in the distance, the sound echoing the canons that haunt his nightmares and sending him further into his panic. He’s jerky, out of practice in a way that he can normally take comfort in but now only serves to make him feel all the more on edge. He could see shadows flickering in his peripherals, tree branches and whispering grasses coalescing into hunters, other tributes just out of sight and beyond his perception though just close enough for him to feel like a fish being hunted by a heron.

As he struggles to regain his balance he realizes that he is alone, the indent you had left in the sand beside him long abandoned. His heart stops in his chest, feeling suddenly like he’s had the air kicked out of him - if you were gone, did that mean you were…? No. No, you couldn’t be. If you were dead-

“Finn?” Your voice snaps Finnick out of his spiral almost instantly and he whirls to face you, a massive smile breaking across his lips as he stumbles up the beach toward you.

“Where were you?” He gasps, tucking his head into your shoulder as he throws himself into your arms, unable to even pretend to care as he knocks whatever you’d been carrying out of your grasp.

His nerves start to settle as you clutch him close to your chest, arms curled tight around him. “I’m sorry,” the words rush out of you quickly as you realize what he must’ve been thinking, “I’m sorry Finnick. I woke up and it looked like you were cold so I went to get blankets from the cabin. I meant to be back before you woke up and then it started raining and it took me longer to get back-” You trailed off as you took in his state, pulling back just far enough to look at him, “God, you’re freezing. C’mon, Finn, let’s get you home and warmed up before you get sick. I’ll come back for the blankets later, when it’s not raining.”

Finnick allows himself to be tugged along after you, stumbling over the slight hills in the sand as he follows you back to your shared cabin at the other end of the cove. He’s still a little out of it as the front door swings shut behind the two of you, but he has enough presence of mind to toe off his shoes and follow you into your bedroom.

“C’mon love,” you say, digging through his dresser to find him some dry pajamas. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”

He blanches at that, suddenly far too aware of the way he’d changed since the Games. His wet clothes clung to him, sticky with water and plastered to the soft stomach and curves that’d formed in the years after the Hunger Games had been ended. He knew that you liked knowing he was comfortable and felt safe enough to relax, but he couldn’t help but feel less worthy of the attention, especially with the way he had been treated in the years between his Games and the Quarter Quell. He eventually follows your request, tugging off his soaked shirt and holding it in front of his chest and stomach subconsciously.

You turn back, eyes narrowing as you notice his defensive body language. “You okay, Finn? You seem… tense. Is it still the nightmare?”

He shakes his head, slowly forcing himself to approach you, dropping his shirt as he gets close. “‘M’okay.”

You step toward him, cupping his face in your hands fondly. “Sweetheart, I’m here for you. You know I love you, right? And whatever you’re dealing with, I’m here to support you.”

Finnick hesitates, but presses into your palms and closes his eyes after a moment. “I don’t feel strong enough for you anymore.” He can feel the way your hands start to shake where he rests against him and he knows that you must be heartbroken to hear what he had been thinking. “I just- I don’t know if I could protect you if something happened and I don't look-” his voice breaks a little as he voices his insecurity.

You interrupt him with a fond eye roll and a tender kiss, “You look like the love of my life,” you murmur quietly, pressing soft kisses across his cheeks and forehead. “And I love that you are safe and don’t need to be fighting ready unless you want to be. I love who you are, Finn, not just how you look and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if that’s what it takes for you to know it.”

Finnick feels like crying - to have gone from being treated as little more than a toy for strangers’ pleasure to being so wholly loved in just a few short years was a little overwhelming to think about, but he knows that he couldn’t be happier if he were anywhere else and he wouldn’t want to be. He is more than happy to be here, safe and loved and willing to carve out a new place for himself in the world with you. He knows that there is nowhere he would rather be than in your arms.

#finnick odair x male reader #finnick odair x male!reader #male reader x finnick odair #male!reader x finnick odair #hunger games x male reader #hunger games x male!reader #hunger games x reader #hunger games reader insert #x male!reader #x reader #male!reader insert #male reader insert #male!reader #male reader

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rubra-wav · 3 months

Text

Vox HCs entry #2

Warnings/CW: discussion of toxic masculinity, SFW

A/N: just various thoughts I've had about this man.

- He is a musical theatre/drama fan

He gives me this energy so much due to how dramatic he is in general. His first instinct when Alastor comes back is to instantly make a callout on live TV in the form of song. 💀

I feel like he listens to musicals in 'secret' - but it's not actually nearly as much as a secret as he thinks it is. I feel like in general he gets very loud when he's passionate or excited about something.

I just have a mental image of him thinking nobody in Vee tower can hear him while he absolutely yells the lyrics of a song with headphones on at full volume while dancing out the choreography to the song.

He'd deny everything about it if you brought this up however. He grew up in the 50's and due to that I feel as if he would be very insecure about it. I'll elaborate more on that in the next point.

- Still has a fair few beliefs to deconstruct

He is from around the 50's time period, and due to that I feel like he would have a lot of internalised toxic masculinity.

He is on and off with Val who's obviously GNC, so I think he doesn't gaf too much about others and what they wear and do anymore

But I think he has a lot of shit he directs towards himself still.

Elaborating on the liking theatre thing and denying it: I think he would stubbornly deny it because he thinks it's 'too feminine' for himself to be interested in and that he thinks it makes him 'less of a man' and shit kinda like that.

I also think because of this he also has horrendous perspectives on showing emotion.

It is already canon that he hides behind a mask at all times, but I feel like even if he 100% trusts someone to be genuine around them he still wouldn't let himself do so due to thinking he's 'less man' if he does things like cry or directly seek any kind of support - especially emotional - outside of his usual compliment fishing behaviours.

I don't think his perspectives usually pertain to others as he's had a lot of exposure to different more up-to-date / nonconforming people with Val and Vel - but I do definitely feel like he has hella internalised bullshit.

Dating him in this aspect would be hard because you would need to be there reassuring him that it's okay to do things which society deems as 'feminine' - especially with what 1950's society deemed as being normal and abnormal for men.

He needs reassurance so bad about it.

I can see him as trying to keep up his mask of not needing any kind of help from you even when it's obvious he's cracking under whatever (pressure, overwhelm, stress, etc. Etc.)

- This man can't dress himself well for shit

(Mostly based upon past Voxtagram posts)

This man's closet outside of his usual outfits is largely button-up/polo shirts and cargo shorts with the most horrifically ugly patterns you've ever seen in your life.

The only reason his outfits look good ever is because of Vel forcing him to not dress like shit.

I can imagine him walking out of his room in a blue and red polo and black cargo shorts with a snapback on and Velvette and Valentino just looking at him in utter horror. 💀

I also like the idea of him having equally chaotic socks. Like you have the usual put together outfit he has on, but then he takes off his shoes, and they are eye shatteringly ugly with words printed on them.

It's ironic because if you date him he will be probably pissy about you dressing well going out together.

He's a hypocrite 🙏

- He doesn't like sweets

I can see him as not liking things that are sweet at all.

He absolutely takes his coffee black as well, it's the most bitterest gag-worthy flavour ever and you are terrified at how much he seems to like the taste.

The sweetest thing he does like in the way of drinks is diet coke.

I feel like he survives on energy drinks, but I don't think he enjoys them at all and just tolerates them.

He doesn't like desserts either. Maybe tiramisu but not frequently.

I can see him actually liking dark chocolate though. I feel like he likes bitter things.

He's totally an absolute cunt about it as well.

If he sees you having coffee with milk/creamer and sugar he's the type of person to go "ugh. I don't know how you can drink that." While fake gagging at you.

He's that mf

A/N I have multiple ideas for drabble/fics, but my brain decided to write this out for now.

If you like sweets a lot he would be annoying as fuck about it 100%

I'm a bit hesitant to post like full fics or drabbles as I don't want to in the moment be like 'yeah, this is great!' Then look at it the next morning and be tweaking out because it feels OOC or I could have worded things better. Perfectionism is a fucking nightmare 🗣/lh

#vox #hazbin hotel #vox headcanons #vox x reader

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newvegascowboy · 1 year

Text

food & agriculture in fallout: extrapolation and speculative worldbuilding

Okay, well. This is going to be an extremely long and data heavy post. Bear with me.

I'm going to go into detail about the crops and available food given to us canonically and textually. I'm going to be drawing some real world parallels between the crops we see in Fallout and what we have here. I'll be pulling relevant data from all the games, but the majority focus on this post is going to be about the east coast and Massachusetts in particular because it gives us the opportunity to participate in the agricultural climate of the wasteland.

Is there a point to this? Not really, but I'm pedantic and I take things too seriously.

my sources will be linked in the text throughout. for those of you who want to read about agricultural and growing zones of the continental united states, please follow me under the cut.

Growing zones and real world agriculture

Shown here are the growing zones of the united states, divided into a temperature map of about 19 different regions. It's fairly intuitive to read -- colder temperatures are north and east, while warmer temperatures are south and west. The majority of the Mojave desert sits between 7a to 9a, a temperature range of about 20 degrees. DC and the nearby section of the southeast coast sits between 7a and 8a. The interactive map linked below will tell you where your growing zone sits.

The 2012 USDA Plant Hardiness Zone Map is the standard by which gardeners and growers can determine which plants are most likely to thrive at a location. The map is based on the average annual minimum winter temperature, divided into 10-degree F zones and further divided into 5-degree F half-zones.

For the moment, we are going to focus on Massachusetts.

Using the temperature above, we can see that the growing zone of Massachusetts is 5a (-20f) at it's very coldest, all the way to 7b, (5f) at it's warmest during winter. Most of what we see in fallout 5 sits in the 6a to 6b zone, which is middle ground during the winter, but cold enough to want to warrant crops that can withstand the frost.

There is a solid 5 month window for planting annual crops, like corn, melons, and gourds like pumpkin. Your perennial crops are limited to fruit trees and possibly grains, depending on the variety and whether or not a perennial variety has been bred.

Cold weather crops include beets, carrots, greens like cabbage, collards, kale, and potatoes. These aren't the types of crops that will survive the winter as much as these are foods that can go in the ground as soon as it is unfrozen enough to be workable. Root vegetables and greens can germinate in soil as cold as 40 degrees Fahrenheit, which provides some leeway with unpredictable frosts and late planting times.

Much of the agricultural landscape of Massachusetts is dependent on the dairy industry, farming cattle, and aquaculture -- fishing and catching shellfish. Those with access to the coasts, fish and shellfish ought to provide protein during lean months.

Why are we talking about this? Well, if we're stepping into the shoes of a subsistence farmer in the fallout universe, we're going to have to take into account climate and ideal planting times for certain crops. It's not wholly important in terms of things like fic writing, unless you happen to be writing about the life and times of wasteland agriculture, in which case, I hope this is helpful! Again, I am pedantic, and this section is to provide a template when considering and discussing other parts of the game and what their specific diet and agricultural landscapes might look like.

Something to keep in mind when thinking about how farms might function in the Mojave, for instance, or if you're doing worldbuilding for a different part of the US.

Crops in the fallout universe

Now that we're familiar with growing zones and why certain crops are planted and when, we're going to apply some speculative worldbuilding to fallout itself. We will be revisiting growing zones when we talk about other climates, but for the moment, we're going to focus on fallout 4.

Now to preface -- I don't think that the food that is given to us in game is wholly representative of the plants or animals that survived the apocalypse. If some managed to mutant and survive, I'm willing to bet others did. I certainly won't deduct any points from anyone who wants to talk about growing cotton, or farming peaches or cherries, and I won't raise any eyebrows if someone includes things like spices into their wasteland cuisine.

In the 210+ years since the bombs fell, I do not think that the majority of the US is a desolate wasteland, but this post is not going to be my beef with the devs about how brown everything is. This beef is about food in particular. However, for sake of ease, I'm mostly just going to focus on the food that is presented to us in game.

There will be some extrapolation and speculation later, but if I do that for everything, then we'll be here all day, and we've all got things to do.

I would also be remiss to mention that agriculture in the US is old. It predates colonialism. The Native Americans cultivated the land long before any European settlers. They practiced a type of crop growing referred to as Three Sisters planting, which utilized corn, pole beans, and squash -- all things that exist in the agricultural landscape of Fallout as we know it.

Corn

I'm not going to say much about corn because there's not a lot to say about it. We all know what corn is. Fallout's corn is visually similar to wild violet, a hybrid corn.

But I am not going to say Fallout's corn is one such variety or another. In the 210 years since the bombs dropped, I imagine corn varietals have been bred and interbred a thousand times, and it is probably it's own unique strain. It's kind of a moot point. Corn is corn. You can do with yellow corn what you can do with wild violet, and whatever special breeds that make up Fallout's corn.

Corn is the third largest plant-based food source in the world. Despite its importance as a major food in many parts of the world, corn is inferior to other cereals in nutritional value. Its protein is of poor quality, and it is deficient in niacin. Diets in which it predominates often result in pellagra (niacin-deficiency disease). Corn is high in dietary fibre and rich in antioxidants.

You can do a shit ton with corn. It's a staple grain. It would not be incongruous with the fallout setting to have settlers making tortillas, cornbread, polenta, grits, tamales, etc. Corn can also be used to make corn whiskey. The husks can be spun into yarn and woven into garments similar to cotton, which I thought was interesting and also solves the problem of where the hell wastelanders are getting their clothes. Corn can be used as livestock feed, especially in the winter when cattle can't graze. While corn is a staple grain of the US, the east coast has minor corn production compared to places like the midwest. Corn is a staple, but it does not consist of the entire diet of your average wastelander.

Carrots

Not going to say much about carrots either. They're carrots. They grow well in colder soil and tend to have a lot of natural sugars. The carrots we're shown in FO4 seem to be a mutated variety different than the "fresh carrot" consumable in FNV, but there's virtually no difference, so I'm not counting it. Make some carrot cake.

Razorgrain

"This species appears to be quite promising. It's a toothy grain that we may be able to grind in order to replace wheat, which is untenable in the Wasteland. We are uncertain how to increase crop yields, which are very unpredictable. Will continue to study."

Razorgrain is our first unique mutated crop in the fallout setting. It most closely resembles a barley or a rye. Both are a fairly hardy species and can grow all across the continental united states; rye can germinate in cold weather temperatures. It wouldn't be outrageous to assume that razorgrain is similar too or a crossbred variation of both rye and barley. I have decided to base the majority of my research assuming it is a barley variant. Barley is also a major crop on the east coast near the Commonwealth, so that would explain why razorgrain is present in FO4 and not in the other games.

Barley requires a mild winter climate and can grow in growing zones 3-8, so it would be viable in Massachusetts. Barley can be milled into flour and it contains gluten; the gluten content of North American wheat and barley tends to be higher to survive the colder climates, so razorgrain would likely be very glutenous. It is also less susceptible to ergot than rye, but barley can still become infected -- and, I am assuming, razorgrain could as well.

Razorgrain fills the nutritional niche of carbohydrates and can be used to make breads, cakes, pastas, etc. It produces darker breads that have an earthier flavor than milled white flour. There has to be some method of actually milling the grain, though, which is an intensive process that can often be dangerous. Grain can also be used to make malted candy, which is our first option for wastelanders with a sweet tooth. Obviously, razorgrain can also be used to make malt or grain alcohol and is probably the source of all the beer you find littered around the wasteland.

Gourds and melons

Gourds and melons are actually a part of the same family, Cucurbita. The category of 'gourd' covers several different kinds of vegetables, including ornamental fruits that shouldn't be eaten. We aren't going to spend a whole lot of time on this one, simply because canon doesn't tell us that much and there's a lot of wiggle room in terms of interpretation.

FO4's model looks the most similar to a pumpkin, but it could be some other squash varietal from the Cucurbita family, which includes watermelon, honey melon, cucumber, squash, zucchini and pumpkin.

Melons is another pretty broad category. Melons and squash are part of the same family, as mentioned above. If we're going visuals again, the model is likely intended to resemble a watermelon. Watermelons grow best in humid and semi-arid environments between 70 and 8- degrees Fahrenheit. It's not impossible for wastelanders to be growing watermelons, but considering the humidity and frequent rainfall in Massachusetts, the melons would be vulnerable to fungal infections.

There isn't a lot of information on what specifically gourds and melons are in the fallout universe, so you could get away with writing in a pretty wide variety. Personally, I lean a little bit towards melons being a muskmelon variety, like cantaloupe or honeydew. Squash fills in some vitamin requirements for the human diet, and can be canned and stored for winter. It tends to be high in vitamin C and magnesium.

The limit to this one seems to be your imagination. Go crazy.

Mutfruit

This wiki claims that the mutfruit (it has a scientific name apparently, malus maata) is a mutated species of apple and crabapple. There are two different wikis about the mutfruit, both distinct. The first is linked above. The second is linked here -- I got most of my information from this second wiki.

There is a handful of "canon" information we can take from this set of wikis.

Priscilla Penske in Vault 81 is attempting to create foods that have increased resistance to radiation. She mentions the mutfruit would do well, but isn't certain how the hybridization would affect the flavor and texture.[5]

This claim is taken directly from the second wiki, but in comparison, it makes no sense. If the mutfruit tree is a product of mutation, then radiation shouldn't really affect it at all. It's survived and propagated to this point, hasn't it? I am disregarding this claim on the basis of being stupid.

Farmers in at Warwick homestead will comment on the fruit's characteristics, such as tasting sweet and being versatile in recipes.[1][2] The vault dwellers of Vault 81 trade for mutfruit with the outside world, and use it to make special occasion desserts such as pie.[6][7]

If the mutfruit is an apple variant, then it likely has a high sugar content, and it would have to be harvested in the peak of summer or in early fall.

There are fresh apples the be found across the wasteland, implying the existence of apple trees that have been unaffected by the bombs. Personally, I was assuming that the mutfruit was some kind of blackberry, given its appearance as a clustered fruit, or maybe even a type of plum. Regardless, the mutfruit is a fruit, which means that it would preserve well by being jarred or canned, has a high sugar content, and could likely be reduced to form sugar syrups. Like any fruit, it could be used to make alcohol.

Tatos

I want to stop myself from editorializing too much, but goddamn tatos. The crop that makes the least goddamn sense in the fallout universe. The bane of my existence. Let's get into it.

First off, we're given some pretty damning canon facts about tatos:

Tatos are a mutated hybrid of the cross-pollination of the tomato and potato plants.[1] The new consumable looks like a tomato on the outside, but the inside is brown.[2] Commonly cultivated in the Commonwealth, Appalachia and on the Island, its fruit is easy to grow and can keep one from starving, but their taste is described as "disgusting"[2][3][Non-game 1] and resembling "ketchup-flavored cardboard."[1]

According to some old botany texts we found, this appears to be combination of a now extinct plant called a "potato" and another extinct plant called a "tomato." The outside looks like a tomato, but the inside is brown. Tastes as absolutely disgusting as it looks, but will keep you from starving.

Note: This text was written from the perspective of someone who is unaware that both the tomato and the potato are being cultivated elsewhere. The writer also does not mention any sort of DNA test. However, the potato is also found in the Capital Wasteland, and the writer is a scribe in the Brotherhood of Steel, which originated from that area.

Both potatoes and tomatoes are from the nightshade family. They have the same nutrient requirements, and would compete for resources if planted separately but in the same soil. There is a method for planting them together where you splice a tomato stalk onto a potato root, but this is not the same as cross pollination and will not result in what fallout presents as a tato. What will happen is that the roots will grow potatoes and the fruit of the tomato will branch off the stems.

The potato itself is a stem tuber -- high in starch and calorically dense. A stem tuber is an offshoot of the parent plant that will grow beneath the soil as a type of asexual budding reproduction. We all know what a potato is. The tomato is a berry. It's the ovary of a flowering plant -- again, we all know what a tomato is.

I am going to give Fallout a little bit of grace and not comment on how mind bendingly stupid their description of a tato is. The outer skin is a tomato, but the inside is brown and starchy like the potato? I am not going to comment on how it makes little to no biological sense. The starchy tuber is starchy because it's an energy and nutrient storage device. The tomato is the enlarged ovary of a fruit. Why did those things, which are separately very good, combine into one very terrible thing? I don't know. It doesn't make sense. I don't really want to think about it. But these are the facts as they are given to us in game and I suppose I have to live with that. Obligatory "goddamn you todd howard. a pox on your house."

The tato is probably extremely calorically dense. It's specifically mentioned as being easy to grow and it is a better alternative to starving. It's probably grown as a staple crop throughout the planting season. I'm not entirely sure if the tato can produce glycoalkaloids like the potato does (that is, the green sections of the potato that can become poisonous when exposed to light) but if they can, and if stored improperly, it would negatively impact the health of whoever ate them.

I suppose since the taste is so offensive, tatos are better served as a carrier of some other type of food. Fried, mashed, baked -- the purpose of the tato is simply to get calories into your body. Starch can also be turned into alcohol, which I am going to need a lot of after reading the canonical facts of this stupid fucking plant.

Fallout: The Roleplaying Game Rulebook p.158: "A mutated hybrid of the pre-War tomato and potato plants, with the stem and reddish skin of the former and the brownish flesh of the latter. Tatos provide decent nutrition, but taste disgusting. However, they’re relatively easy to grow and thus are a staple of wasteland agriculture and is an ingredient in a variety of recipes."

fucker

"non farmable" crops

You can't cultivate these plants, but again - we're taking what's given to us and interpreting it extremely literally. There is no reason that these crops could not be domesticated and farmed.

Siltbean

Siltbean is likely a type of bushbean, rather than a pole bean. It's squat and low to the ground. Bush beans require little care or attention and you can pick them when you're ready to harvest them. Historically in North America, beans and corn were grown side by side (though those beans were pole beans using the stalks as support). Bush beans require successive plantings since harvests are early.

There's no good allegory for what type of bean this might be. The potato bean (Apios americana) is native to North America and also produces edible tubers, but there's no reason this couldn't be just some other type of bean. No beans that I could find had red/orange pods.

Beans are a good source of both proteins and carbohydrates, and another crop that can store well for the winter.

Tarberry

Tarberry is a little iffy, considering it is farmed by the ghouls at The Slog, but they're the only farm shown capable (or willing?) to farm the berries. Originally, I had assumed that tarberries were a type of mutated cranberry, and I thought the wiki was supporting me in that claim by saying this:

Tarberries are small, dusty orange berries of the tarberry plant. It is a water-grown crop similar to cranberries.

But cranberries themselves are also canon in the world of Fallout. So who knows! There's no canon information presented on the tarberry's characteristics, so it can be treated the same as any other fruit or berry.

Fungus variants

Glowing fungus: Glowing fungus is one of the few real world equivalents we have. It is a Japanese mushroom called Enoki. It is also farmable as shown in FNV at Hell's Motel.

Brain fungus: This is harvestable, but there aren't any "crops" shown as we would consider them. Considering it's benefits as a mentat replacement, then it's likely that there could be a dedicated space for growing it.

Food and Plants mentioned in the text

Potato

Thank god almighty, potatoes are canon in the universe of Fallout. Fresh potatoes are found as consumables in FO3 and FNV but potatoes are also mentioned in the text of FO4:

Mentioned in dialogue -- {Angry} Shut up Jake. If I hear anything out of either of you, you'll both be peeling potatoes for the next year.

I'm taking this as word of god. Potatoes are canon and I don't care what anyone says.

Tomato

Tomatoes are mentioned in the text, but are never actually seen in game. The only hint that this plant survived extinction is this excerpt from the wiki.

Note: As fresh tomatoes and potatoes are seen in the Mojave Wasteland as of 2281, with the potato seen in the Capital Wasteland as of 2277, the claim of either's extinction by 2287 in the Commonwealth Plant Database could be taken to mean local extinction in east coast regions, as opposed to global extinction. This entry may also just be in error.

There's potential for leeway here, but take it as you will!

Fresh apple

We discussed this back up in the mutfruit section of the essay, but the existence of fresh apples implies the existence of non mutated apple trees. They're found in both FO3 and FNV as a consumable item, so the apple tress have either proliferated across the continental united states, or multiple varieties survived the bombs.

Fresh pear

See above. Pears are also naturally high in pectin, which makes them useful for making jams and preserves.

Pinto beans

Pinto beans are a consumable in FNV and is another W in the bean category of the agricultural landscape.

Jalepeno

Look, I'm picking out this one specifically because I need to believe that other spices and peppers exist in the world. Where would we be without her? Nowhere good.

Raw sap

I am going to say that sap collecting is probably where most of the sugars and sweeteners in the wasteland come from. It's relatively easy to tap trees and collect sap, and it only takes a few hours to reduce the sap down into useable syrup.

Wild Blackberry, Lime, Cranberries, as well as Watermelon as being distinct from simply 'melon' are all mentioned in the text. The list of fruits mentioned or found in the games can be found here.

Animal husbandry

Fallout doesn't give us a lot of canonical information on the animal side of farming. The biggest real world agricultural export of Massachusetts is dairy and cattle farming. Chickens are canon in the worldbuilding of fallout as of Far Harbor, but canon feels both restrictive and extremely loose with regards to what animals can be cared for and how.

We aren't going to spend a whole lot of time on this one, only because the information is pretty limited.

Brahmin

There are plenty of brahmin found throughout the landscape of the wasteland. We most commonly see them as either livestock or beasts of burden. Things like milk, cheese, and other dairy products would be common if a farm has access to dairy cows. The investment to raise cows would be enormous for a subsistence farmer. Dairy cows would likely be kept for a number of years, where steers would be raised 12 to 24 months before being slaughtered; they'd likely be grass fed in the summer and corn or grain fed in the winter. Leather and beef would be products, of course, and things like soap and candles can be made from the beef tallow.

Chickens

Chickens are largely easy to keep and care for, producing eggs and necessary proteins. Chickens can provide niacin, filling in the nutritional gap that would be left by a heavy corn based diet. The investment for keeping chickens is lower than raising brahmin, but so is the payoff.

Bighorners

Bighorners are mutated bighorn sheep native to the American Southwest.[1] Humans have since domesticated them for their horns, meat, milk, and hides,[2][3]

Granted, bighorners are only seen in FNV, but I don't think there's any reason they couldn't have migrated east. In the text, it says they're kept for meat and milk, but there's no reason that they shouldn't provide a fleece as well. In the colder climate of Massachusetts, they would find value in wool, which can keep its warmth even when wet. They may be sparse across the commonwealth, but that would make wool and fleece all that much more valuable.

Fish

Yeah, I know. Technically we can't fish in Fallout (and depending on the game you play, you might not even know what a fish is). But aquaculture is huge in Boston, and with access to the coasts, it's completely fair to say that fish, shellfish, and hydroponics is a completely viable source of food in the wasteland. We see dead fish washed up on shore all the time, along with whatever the hell those shark things are. There should be fisheries and fishing towns all along the coasts.

New Vegas and Fallout 3

Consulting our growing zone chart, we can see that much of the southwest sits between 7b to 8b. The winters in the southwest are fairly mild, and while you can get seeds in the ground sooner, the majority of the battle is going to be finding a reliable water source.

The farming we see in New Vegas has one distinct notable inclusion: the NCR sharecropper farm.

The sharecroppers are growing a number of crops, including maize, tobacco, pinto beans, and honey mesquite. Corn can handle hot, arid weather, it's just not commercially grown out west. Barley can also handle hot, arid climates, and razorgrain would be suitable for the western front -- maybe we can assume it's made it's way that far west and is being cultivated alongside corn.

Most of the plants we see in FNV aren't the type we would see typically domesticated for agricultural use, but that doesn't mean people haven't adapted to their surroundings. It makes a lot of sense for locals to have domesticated local plants like prickly pear and banana yucca. There are a number of fresh produce items to be found as consumables, alongside local fruits the local fruits.

Heat-loving plants are best suited for summer production in desert climates. The plant families that fit into the heat-loving category are nightshade or Solanaceae (tomatoes, peppers, eggplant) and squash or Cucurbitaceae (cucumbers, melons, summer and winter squash). Corn and beans also perform best in hot climates.

Most plants CAN handle the heat and climate of the southwest, the issue is just finding a reliable source of water. Somewhere close to Lake Mead or the banks of the Virgin River would be prime real estate for farming, since irrigation could be accomplished without the use of pumps, like the sharecroppers use.

If we look back at the history of agriculture, it's developed along established waterways in almost every ancient civilization because that's what's easiest. There should be thriving communities surrounding the lakes and rivers in the southwest.

Comparatively, DC was formerly a swamp. It's hot and humid in the summer, though the winters are fairly mild. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that farming practices in the Commonwealth don't differ all that much from farming in the Capital Wasteland -- you could even posit that food from the Capital is of better quality ever since the successful activation of Project Purity. Fresh and unirradiated food was growing there before, so it's entirely likely that even more is growing now. YMMV!

Other consumables

We would be here all damn day if I did research onto every single consumable item available across all three games, so this mostly just because I'm covering my bases.

Look, I'm picking out this one specifically because I need to believe that other spices and peppers exist in the world. Where would we be without her? Nowhere good.

Pre War food

Most shelf-stable foods are safe indefinitely. In fact, canned goods will last for years, as long as the can itself is in good condition (no rust, dents, or swelling). Packaged foods (cereal, pasta, cookies) will be safe past the ‘best by’ date, although they may eventually become stale or develop an off flavor.

The risk with improperly canned good, or damaged canned goods, is botulism. Botulism will straight up kill you. You don't even have to consume that much of it; just a little bit will leave you dead in days. As desperate as I might be for a meal, I'm not going to risk dying because that can of two hundred year old peaches looks really tasty.

If properly sealed and in a dry, ideal environment, I... guess things like cereal and instant food could be okay? But again, with access to fresh grain, sugars, and yes, even potatoes and pasta, why would you want to risk eating InstaMash that's been around since before your great grandmother.

Pre War drinks

Sigh. Okay.

Unless stored extremely, extremely well, most bottled drinks aren't going to last much longer than 9 months. A year, if you're lucky. Exposure to sunlight and improper storage will break down the contents -- the best bottles are brown, then green. Clear glass is the worst because it does nothing to protect the liquid inside.

All the Nuka Cola you find throughout the world is flat, nasty, and will probably make you sick. I don't think that really needs to be pointed out, but there we go. I suppose the soda could probably be reduced to form sugar syrups, but with access to sap syrup and grain malt, I'm not sure why you would be desperate enough to do that.

So what does food look like in Fallout?

If there's one thing I know about humans, it's that humans like to eat. Food is culture, as much as culture and community is built around food. Good food and access to it is paramount to human happiness. All this to say is that food in fallout is whatever you want it to look like.

I can extrapolate and theorize all day long based on what Fallout tells us definitively, but I'm not going to tell you what the culinary landscape in the wasteland looks like. The only point that I will stress is that humans are really, really good at making things appetizing.

The fandom is already so creative when it comes to developing their idea of what food means in the wasteland. It's what's directly inspired me to write up this stupid, long ass post about farming and agriculture.

Obviously this is not a comprehensive list of all the base ingredients you can find in Fallout. I picked the ones I did because of the potential for consistent farming. Wastelanders have had two centuries to develop agricultural practices based around subsistence farming. I am not a subsistence farmer, and I have no idea how wasteland cottagecore would work at the heart of it. Running a farm is extremely labor intensive, and so much of your investment has to be immediately recouped in the form of eating what you harvest.

What a farm is likely to look like will start in the early spring when the ground begins to thaw, and a farmer can plant his cold resistant crops, like green vegetables and razorgrain. Potatos, carrots, and tatos will also weather the spring chill. When it starts to warm up, the more delicate plants like corn, beans, and squash or melons will get planted and tended to.

If your family is lucky enough to have a greenhouse, you can keep crops growing all through the winter and have a surplus for trade and barter, or just to preserve and refill the pantries.

A lot of the investment will have to be immediately recouped. Eggs from the chickens can't be preserved, obviously, but there will be meat from hunted animals, milk from the brahmin, probably an early harvest from the beans and tatos, and whatever else is in the pantry from the previous harvest.

Some of it will be canned or preserved in the forms of jams or jellies (just remember what I said about botulism). Meat from animals that get hunted can be smoked or otherwise preserved. Grain can be milled into flour or eaten whole and unshelled. Even the corn silk can be woven into clothes for the summer.

There really is no limit to what can be done in the end. While a lot of this information was taken from what we're given in the text, there's no rule that says you have to follow it word for word. If you believe something exists out there, then write it! We're all just making shit up as we go along anyway. If you need permission, then here it is. You can do whatever you want. Make up recipes! Go insane. Follow whatever your little foodie heart desires.

#fallout #kal talks #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #fnv #fallout 3 #fallout meta #fallout food #fallout headcanons #behold. the agricultural masterpost of my farming headcanons #here she is

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fatallyfalling · 5 months

Text

Bitter Water 0.00 ~ ♆

“ Let the Reaping of the 67th annual Hunger Games begin, “

warnings: typical Hunger Games violence/trauma/themes, language, blood, injury, insinuation of forced prostitution, enemies to lovers, slow burn, etc.

{{ word count }} 2.6 k

{{ prompt }} Panem is cruel - bloodthirsty even. Every year twenty-four children must fight to the death as a sick form of entertainment. Today is the 67th annual reaping in the seaside District 4 - may the odds be ever in your favor.

{{ a/n }} Warning there’s a lot of exposition for what i think life in District 4 would be like though it may not sound 100% accurate to the canon ideation! I did way too much research on District 4’s presumed location and the general pacific northwest seafaring system for accuracy. This chapter is a lot of scene setting to reference later on top of the reaping occurring - please enjoy !

The Pacific-Northwestern region of Panem was home to District 4. Otherwise known as the “Fishing District”.

Most of its citizens are concentrated directly on or near the salty coast of the sea, working the many sailboats or on the bustling ports that harbored them. Children of the district learn to help from an early age, shucking oysters and various mussels or helping their mothers weave and repair nets for the local fishermen. Everyone smelled of the sea - fresh air, sea salt, and a damp pine, with sand clinging to their shoes and linen clothes.

Though a majority of the year brought overcast skies and rainy weather, the better parts of mid-July through late August were filled with warm, sticky sunshine and cloudless skies. Come autumn and winter, cold snaps and heavier rain storms were regular visitors, with many homes donning rain barrels to collect the excess liquid to be boiled down for drinking or bathing. The northernmost edge of the District sometimes saw snow, bringing ice fishing and skating to measured popularity amongst locals.

The port towns were anything but sleepy. Community in a constant hustle and bustle while watching out for one another in tandem with the intense seafaring labor. Days spent on the beach were filled with tugboat horns, captain's orders, and elated shrieks of children wading in the spray of the ocean. There was always a game of who could find the best cliff to dive from, or conch shell to hear the distant whispers of waves inside and whatnot. A group of older kids developed a make-believe currency of sand dollar bits to trade wooden beads, small clusters of natural quartz, seashells, rope bracelets, and more to entertain the younglings on an outcropping speckled in tide pools on the rocky shore.

More often than not, a walk down the boardwalk as dusk neared brought warm golden lights flooding from old taverns with deep, joyous shanties of the past and banter amongst hardworking sailors merging with joyous whoops and hollers of young women and barmaids. Everyone knew one another like family, and the seaside town practically breathed on its own with the rolling push and pull of the tide.

However, the Fishing District was silent today.

Waves crashed on the beach as boats creaked in their ports. Scarred wooden tavern signs wailed in the eerie breeze on salt-rusted chains. The absence of sound in the sand swept cobble streets was almost unsettling. There’s only one day a year that invokes such an abrupt halt in District 4’s beating heart.

The annual Reaping of one female and male Tribute set to compete in a fight to the death against twenty two other children from the districts all for the Capital’s sick reminder of what rebellion once cost the “great nation” of Panem.

The Hunger Games.

You knew the odds were never in anyone's 'favor'.

“It’s fine. Everything - everything is going to be fine…”

The repeated mantra is barely a whisper under your breath as you make a futile attempt the smooth the front of your lightweight, sage colored ensemble. There was a tremor in your fingertips. The idea of getting cleaned up like this just to attend your own prospective funeral made your stomach twist painfully. Tucking a few stray hairs behind your ears and a deep sigh through your nose, you take one last look in the foggy mirror on your dresser before making your way out to the main room of your home.

Although the Fourth District was deemed wealthy among the remaining 12, your seaside cottage was quaint - and quite a ways from the beach, in all honesty. The home was small, if not cozy. The outside wooden panels were worn with smears of grey from age due to the weather, paired with a tin slabbed roof that allowed every raindrop to be heard throughout the house when it rained. The inside wasn't much better. Little furniture adorned the household and appeared washed out in the summer light. Ivory walls were marked with the mayhem of childhood and clumsy hands. The large main room held a mantle and hearth with a makeshift stove built in and a rickety dark stained wood table with four chairs connecting to a barebones bathroom and two bedrooms. There were fixtures and switches for lights but no electricity. Candles were placed where lightbulbs would be for nights when the hearth wasn't keeping the house warm.

"Come on, we've got to get moving, or we'll be late."

You groaned as the younglings, twin boys with hair like your father's, sat on the oval roving rug you had finished braiding two springs prior. "You were supposed to get them washed up." You quip towards the older man seated at the worn-out table. His only reply is a gruff rumble as you scoff, stooping to rub soot off the boy's cheeks with your thumbs. They burst into giggles, and you can't help the tight-lipped smile that crosses your lips.

You tried to be patient with your father. There had been too much loss in recent years, but it wasn't an excuse to neglect his boys. You had enough trouble picking up the slack as it was, from taking extra hours on the shipyard and staying up late mending sails like your mother used to. She passed away some years ago. There had been complications delivering the twins, and there wasn't anything the midwife you'd called could have done. It left your father resigned to himself, taking up more time at the nearby tavern than on the shipyard hauling crates due for the Capital. A foolish miscalculation and one too many drinks ended up costing him his dominant hand and forearm in a freak accident at the port.

To say you had fallen on hard times would be an understatement. It was more akin to plummeting down one of the tall cliffsides bordering the port and smacking face-first into the water like concrete.

Eventually, you managed to wrangle the little rascals into their shoes and straighten the collars of their matching olive-green tunics. Hoisting one onto your back with a huff, you tried to calm the drumming of your racing heart. Your father stood with another grunt and shrugged on a deep brown leather coat to cover what was left of his arm. Allowing the other half of the youngling pair to weave their fingers through his, your father offered a firm nod in your direction, and the four of you set out toward town.

Looking back on that moment, you regret not taking in that quaint little cottage one last time.

The trek to town was about a mile or two. The beat down from the summer sun brought sweat to your brow and the nape of your neck, forcing you to set down the toddler on your back halfway. "I know it's hot, but we have to keep going," You cooed when the pair began complaining about the lengthy trip. This would be the first Reaping they might remember, not to mention the first they weren't in diapers for. You'd done your best to keep them healthy, sometimes at the expense of yourself, but it was worth all the risk in the world.

With a little more commentary from the twins, the tall brick clock tower above the judicial complex at the center of town came into view above the pine trees, and you let out a shuddering breath that made your chest squeeze. "Almost there," You muttered. Averting your gaze to the dirt path under your feet. The sun was almost at its peak when you converged with the lines of other citizens. Many reeked of sweat and body order, having traveled through most of yesterday and this morning to get to the Reaping on time.

You didn't allow your fear to show more than a tightness in your jaw as you gripped your siblings tight in an almost bone-crushing hug. You refused to say goodbye as it felt like admitting defeat before the duel with death had even begun. After a few long moments, you heard the automated voices of Peacekeepers in stark white uniforms and government-ordered guns slung across their chests, and you had to let go. "I'll come back in just a few minutes," You promised, though your voice felt meek and caught in your throat. Ruffling their hair and sparking a fit of spritely laughter, you lifted your gaze to the hardened eyes of your father. "See you soon."

"See you soon."

Another brief, tight-lipped smile, and you forced yourself to turn away and join the other prospective tributes for check-in. Families were forced to remain in a balcony above the judicial complex due to such a large population and past "complications" from reaped children's family members. Anxiety and anticipation brought a tension thick enough to be cut by a knife through the courtyard of people. Wetting your lips following a thick swallow, you tried not to focus too much on the looming Peacekeepers overseeing the procession. When it was your turn to check in, you didn't stutter when asked for your name but scrunched your nose as they pricked your finger, squeezing to pool the blood before pressing it into the paper list and scanning with a device that flashed green. "Next!" The peacekeeper barked, shooing you away with a wave of their hand. Your gaze danced around the all too familiar formation of children as you fell in line with the older Tributes.

You were led in groups through a few back hallways before being brought into a widely open auditorium. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the back wall with long Red capital banners hung on the dividing stone pillars. Clenching your trembling hands into fists, your fingernails digging into your palms, you tried again to steady your racing heart as it pounded against your ribcage.

Things were going to be fine.

Another thick swallow forced its way down your throat, and you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth. The anxious habit often left your bottom lip puffy, if not bleeding from the repetitive action, but you couldn't help it. Shuffling into place to stand in rows and columns with the other prospective Tributes, you had to will yourself not to look anywhere but ahead. You couldn't break till this was all over. It was a long process to get everyone inside. But once the large wooden doors behind you slammed shut with a contagious shudder shifting through the crowd, you knew this was it.

The deafening cry of an unfocused microphone wails through the room, causing your nose to scrunch and your head to lean into your shoulder in discomfort. A stocky, overdressed Capital escort appears on the short stage made of stone to match the rest of the auditorium. They release a small gasp at the noise and allow a brief dismissal before tapping the microphone twice, the poor device exerting two loud "thumps" for good measure. Clearing their throat with a phlegmy cough, the escort begins a crawl of lines that were evidently rehearsed and regurgitated the same way every year to every district.

"Welcome, welcome! Happy Hunger Games!"

The escort's tone is elated, making you feel sick at the pride they seem to take in their position. Your jaw set in place as they continued their spiel.

"Before we begin, I'd like to share this wonderful message from our dear President and our beloved Capital!" They exclaim while gesturing to a letter they seem to pull from thin air. A small "shink" whispers through the mic as the letter is opened. The escort pulls a sheet of parchment out, discarding the envelope in a dramatic toss behind themselves and another phlegmy cough before reading the page.

"Dear Prospective Tributes,"

"It is an honor as the President of Panem to welcome you all to the annual Reaping for this year's Hunger Games. As you all have learned from birth. War, destruction, and rebellion have brought great shame to our nation. A shame that runs so deep that our Districts must be reminded of the consequences and retribution that rebellion costs. War brings death. War brings dead children, dead mothers, dead sisters, and dead brothers. To raise war against your Capital, which has provided you all you've ever needed, is treacherous. To bring war against your home is treason. These Games preserve our past. And these Games protect our future."

Signed, President Coriolanus Snow."

There isn't a single round of applause that rolls through the crowd once the escort finishes reciting the letter. The letter has been identical at every Reaping you've attended since you were twelve. The silence in the auditorium is loud enough to hear a pin drop. Your palms grow warm as blood slowly seeps from where your nails dig in, but you don't bother to take notice.

"Well then, if all is said and done, we shall now move on to selecting our two wonderful tributes who will hold the greatest honor of representing District 4 in the 67th annual Hunger Games. As always, ladies shall go first." The escort exclaims once more, accompanying animated waves of their gloved hands towards the pristine crystal fishbowls on either side of the stage. Both bowls are brimming with slips of paper. Your heartbeat thrums in your ears now.

Everything is going to be fine.

The escort all but skips their way to the crystal mouth of death on the right side of the stage. Your heart feels like it might as well burst out of your chest and splatter against the backs of those in front of you. Your eyes are glued ahead as the escort makes a show of sifting their gloved fingers through the name slips for what feels like an eternity. At last, a slip is chosen in a dramatic swipe up into the air to be displayed to the crowd.

The anticipation is suffocating.

The escort comes back to center stage, coughing into the microphone again as they peel away the black seal of the name.

As the chosen name booms through the auditorium, it's as if you're suddenly underwater. But you can't be underwater because you're standing still, and nothing's wet.

The name booms through the open room again.

This time, you're shocked out of your thoughts at the recognition.

It's your name.

You have been chosen as the female Tribute for the 67th annual Hunger Games.

You barely register the prod of a gun at your back or the jab to your side to force you out of line towards the stage.

This really was going to be your funeral, and you couldn't stop it.

A wail rips apart the blanket of silence as one of the twin younglings cries out for you. On instinct, your head whips towards the cry, but your temple connects with the butt of a gun, and you're knocked to the concrete below. Somehow, a sound akin to a growl emits itself from your throat on your hands and knees as you force yourself to stand back up. Your head throbs with white hot pain from the contact point, but a bitter, spiteful decision solidifies itself in your mind as you're led towards the jaws of certain death on that stage.

You will not die.

@emerald-09 @reader-bookling123 @finnickodaddy

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valynne · 4 months

Text

my house would miss you (and so would i)

pairing(s). finnick odair x gn victor! reader word count. 2.2k description. your porch swing in the victors village has always been your favourite place to watch the ocean and her troubles. the ocean has always loved watching a gentle love story from her shore.

content. reader never wears their shoes (loves their skirt tho), gentle love, trauma from the hunger games, death of childhood, mentions of murder

a/n. i finished work not even half an hour ago and had the beautiful idea that is this fic while walking back along the beach while it rained <3

The porch wood beneath your feet is scratchy, the salt weathered wood has splintered in places and the finish has peeled back with the years of use. The book in your hand sags into your lap as you lift your gaze to look through the grey and rusty iron bars of the Victors Village.

There had been a weather prediction earlier in the week that you had waved off, thinking little of the percentages and weird lines they used to indicate winds. Rain, gods above did you love rain.

You pull your feet up onto the cushioned porch swing. The wind makes the chair sway as you tuck your feet beneath your skirt, leaning further into the armrest as you slot your bookmark between the pages that you were sure you had just been rereading for 3 minutes.

You strain your eyes to see over the fence of the village, to catch a glimpse of the waves lapping at the shore. For someone who grew up around the smell of the ocean you would never get tired of it; the smell of fish from upwind, the sight of the waves and the sun melding at the beginning and end of each day, the water lapping at your calves on especially hot afternoons, the spray of the brine during storms.

You missed it during your games, good lord did you miss it. You had been clutching your knife to your chest and praying with the power of every kind deed you had done that it was a fishing rod instead. That the blood under your nails was from deboning fish and scrapping their scales off. That the nasty scars that run along your shoulder and back had been from a boat propeller and not a particularly cruel Career girl. You had cried when you won, an ugly howling as you sat astride the body of the last tribute. During the interviews he had been strong, his cheeks full of muscle and fat and his eyes gleaming with a knowing type of jollity. You had seen him during the Last Feast, he was as gaunt as you were, he looked fearful and starving. During the last few minutes of your Games though, his dark hair was matted with mud and his cheeks were swollen with blood as rain ran in rivulets in the cuts on his soft skin.

Finnick had told you the doctors that fixed you up when you won had to realign all four knuckles on your right hand, and entirely replace one on your left. He said that the Capitol had gone crazy when you chose to use your hands instead of a weapon. Had applauded so loudly when you knocked his weapon, Terce Steelbrand from District 2, from his hands and brought blow-after-blow down on his face. The canon had gone off before you stopped, way before you had. It was gruesome, bloody, and foul and gut-wrenching. You had beaten a boy a year older than you to his death.

“You alright?” You shudder slightly as you turn to the sandy haired man, a gentle smile spreading across your lips as you pat the seat beside you.

“Yeah.”

He hums as he stands at the threshold of the house, the creaky door squeaking as he weighs his options. He chooses you; he always does. The seat creaks as he adds his weight to the chains load, swinging his feet as he pulls your legs over his lap. He makes sure to tuck your long skirt under your feet, the way you like too.

“What were you doing out here?” He traces a gentle finger over the patterns of your skirt, the other arm sitting over the back of the chair.

“Was readin’ but… I couldn’t.” You glance over at him. “Realised it was gonna rain just before.”

“Mmm, I think you should be a weather reporter.”

You try and force the smile that licks at your lips away, but you can’t help it as you decide to glare at Finnick. It’s a half-assed glare; it’s hard to be angry at the Finnick Odair.

You sit silently for a moment, just taking in his features. The gentle slope of his nose, the angle of his cheeks littered in tiny freckles you could spend an entire afternoon kissing, and his eyes. Those eyes that stare back at you fondly, gently. You never feel scrutinised under those sea-green eyes —never feel small like under the gaze of the Capitol— you could compare being stared at by Finnick with feeling the sun on your skin after a sleepless night.

“What’re you staring at?” His voice feels like having silk dragged along your ears. You can’t look at him anymore —not with that look swelling in those sweet eyes of his— you opt to watch his thumb work circles into your skirt-clad calf.

“You were looking first, Fin.” Your hand drifts to rest on his forearm, thumb brushing over a burn scar. The aftermath of a small cooking incident weeks ago.

“Oh, was I now?” You can see him through your lashes. Can see the way he peers down at the fingers that brush along the warm skin of his forearm. “I didn’t even realise.”

“Mhmm.” You smile a soft little thing. Fingers finding the dip of another scar. You’d accidentally scratched him when you were on your Victory Tour. There had been an accompanying bruise on his jaw, but it had long since faded. A nightmare you can’t even remember now, woke you up screaming bloody murder. Finnick had run in and tried to settle you, and you were still high on adrenaline with one thought in mind. Survival.

There’s a rumble of thunder in the distance, a streak brightening the sky and showing heavy rain clouds. You can hear the raindrops before you see them. They’re hitting the roof of your Victors house, pattering gently on the dark roof as it begins building. You can barely bring yourself together as the man beside you begins speaking.

“Y’know, I thought we could do some shopping today, your pantry’s looking empty. Maybe coffee and flo–”

“You.” He stops speaking, the word dying on the tip of his tongue.

Your eyes drift back up to him, his brows furrow as you meet his gaze head-on. Before he can ask what you mean by it, your hand dances up his arm. You slide your legs out of his lap and curl your toes up as they hit the grainy wood. You hook your fingers into the crook of his elbow and pull him up. He doesn’t waver at all as he stands, following you mindlessly. You take a step towards the stairs as you stare at him. Both hands drifting down to hold his wrist and tangle loosely with his calloused fingers. Line work hasn’t been very kind, but he insists on it. Something about not wanting you to cut yourself.

The wind catches in his hair, making the messy strands and his loose pyjama shirt flutter as you make your way down the sandy cement pathway of Victors Village. He doesn’t say anything but you can feel the trust he has with the way he squeezes your hand every so often.

You sigh and grin something toothy as you feel the raindrops grow heavier as you move faster. “C’mon, Fin.”

“I’m coming.”

As you finally pass the daunting iron bars of the Villages gates the gentle droplets have turned into heavy downpour. You can barely hear them hit the ground over the push-and-pull of the sea, it’s bliss. District 4 hasn’t been taken out of you, there’s no way it could be.

You only look back at Finnick when you reach the dune that separates you both from the waves, and it is a sight. His hair’s damp and random curls stick to his forehead as he comes to a stop with you. You wait for him to toe off his shoes before you’re letting your hand slip from his and you’re running messily down the sand hill. Wet strands of hair slap you in the face as you run, sticking to your cheek as the rain begins doubling down. Flashes of thunder lighting up the dark morning sky. You take a quick tumble that brings you to the bottom of the dune, you hear a call of your name from the top but you’re unaffected.

You roll onto your stomach and rub the sand off your tongue and off your brow.

You laugh, openly and unabashedly. Something you used to do before the Games. When young 13-year-old you would race to the ocean with your friends. Or when your father brought home a tire and a rope to hang on the tree in your backyard. Sticky hot summer days.

You push up and spin to look up at Finnick who’s taking clumsy steps down the dune to reach you. You smile up at him wickedly, and he see’s it. A wash of relief easing his features as he exhales slightly. There’s rivulets of water forming on his cheeks, they nearly look like tears but the look in his eyes is far from sad.

It’s easier to run on wet sand you find —a memory unlocked after so long, you remember running from bullies on a rainy day, this is different—your feet slap the sand as you run from Finnick. You come skidding to a stop just before the oceans foam, your skirt clinging to your legs as you breathe deeply. Flicks of brine mixing with rain water on your cheeks. Cutting clean paths through the grit of sand.

You spin to look at Finnick again, but not even halfway turned and you’re swooped off your feet. Skirt slapping your calves as the man in question swings you. Arms constricted around your middle as he spins with the momentum of his catch.

You squeal, a hand threading through his wet hair and the other looping around his neck.

You gape down at him, incredulous. “Finnick!”

As he echoes your name back to you he mimics a fake accent in the back of his throat, something posh. A new Capitol accent maybe?

“Put me down!” He adjusts his hold on you, a large hand splaying between your shoulder blades. “Down Finnick!”

He smiles up at you as he brings you both to a stand still, his hands keeping you close. The rain drenching you both, running rivers between the both of your chests. “No.”

He has a toothy grin on his face as he stares up at you. Something that makes your heart constrict, swelling in those sea-green eyes. You can’t help yourself, not with the way he’s holding you so gently.

Your lips fall on the arch of his brow, you lean fully into his touch. Your lips skate down his face and find the apple of his cheek. He grins, widely and wildly. You hook your legs over his hips as you press another to the tip of his nose. Your hand moving to stroke his cheek and the other holding the side of his throat. Your thumb brushing over his adam’s apple that bobs as you press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

You pull back, eyes meeting his as you look down at him through droplets of rain that settle on your lashes.

“Finnick.” Your throat feels tight as you wait for him to react or say something, rejection or something softer. What you’re praying for.

His hand finds the back of your head as he pulls your foreheads together, his eyes are far too beautiful this close up. Everything about him is just–

You’re interrupted from the thought as they flutter shut and his lips meet yours. You immediately melt into it, your hands holding his face as you press yourself further into him. His lips are far too soft to be normal but you love it. You pull away for not a second to get air before he’s pulling you back in. Like he’s been starved of it for years, like he needs you more than breathing. And the thought of him needing you so badly, so desperately has your pulse fluttering and your heart beating harder.

Your heart swells and you feel tears gather behind your lids. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips. The kiss turns clumsy as his teeth clack against yours, you can’t help the soft giggle. You can feel his lip curl up against yours as you’re both smiling now. Breathing each others air as you rest your foreheads together.

There’s a crack of lightning that illuminates his face, colours his face in a white glow.

“I love you.” You’re breathless as you say it, eyes searching his desperately.

He echoes your words in the most heart-wrenching whisper, his thumb smoothing over your jaw. As he stares up at you.

There’s a tear that drips from his waterline, mingling with the droplets of salt water and the rain on his tanned cheeks. You press another kiss to his upper lip, bumping your nose against his as you do so.

Something about kissing Finnick in torrential downpour beside the strand of beach you grew up on —it feels right— makes your fingers tremble and your bones ache.

You think of the ocean and him, of the salt clinging to your lips, as you dive back to kiss him again.

#hunger games #district 4 #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #he's my everything #finnick odair you sweet thing #the hunger games #trauma galore #the capitol #a ballad of songbirds and snakes #snow when i catch you

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midnighmoonligh · 1 month

Text

Agere CoD Animal Crossing Head Canon's

(this is just for fun)

Item list; Denim Overalls (white), Kerokerokeroppi Pin, Pacifier (baby grey), Simple-accent Socks (white), Rubber-toe Sneakers (black), Dreamy Backpack (mint), & Panda Umbrella.

Big on-island design

Plays religiously when little

He will harass anyone he can to play with him

Ghost has to aggressively avoid Kyle when playing, he makes him regress

Has a Dark Academia theme

Favorite holiday is a mix of Halloween (favorite character is ofc Jack) and Turkey Day

Aggressively collects amiibo cards, has two binders full of them

The villagers he has are; Apollo, Wolfgang, Skye, Dobie, Chief, Kyle, Fang, Freya, and Vivian.

His starters had been Apollo, Daisy, and Pecan

Ghost's favorite villager is Kyle (looks like Riley & has Gaz's name)

Item list; Annyeong Tee, Baggy Shirt (gray), Dreamy Pants (blue), Jogging Shorts (black), Diaper (light blue), Mohawk Wig, Punk Hair Wig (orange), Pacifier (baby gray, Pacifier (baby mint), Holey Socks (blue), Knee Bandages, Knee Brace (black & blue), Basketball Shoes (light blue), Crossbody Boston Bag (blue), and Blue Umbrella.

All his villagers are jocks

His first animal crossing game was New Leaf

Prefers new leaf, but doesn't mind new horizons

The villagers he has are; Kid Cat, Samson, Stinky, Tank, Teddy, ED, Tad, Moose, Mac, and Lyman.

He collected the amiibo cards for a small time to get jock villagers, but he gave his collection to Ghost.

Soap's favorite villager is Tad

His favorite holiday is Bunny Day

His favorite character is Zipper

His original villagers were Teddy, Deirdre, and Poncho

Soap's Island is a cross between city-theme and kidcore

Obnoxiously into animal crossing conspiracies

He has loads of theories about Zipper

Item's list; Anorak Jacket (red), Colorful Striped Sweater (white, yellow, & red), Diaper (cream), Formal Shorts (white), Track Pants (gray), Crown, Colorful Striped Knit Cap (red), Pacifier (baby gray), Pacifier (baby pink), Color-blocked Socks (brown), Kerokerokeroppi socks, Pompompurin boots, Rubber-toe High TOps (berry red), Bug Cage, Butterfly Backpack, and Rainbow umbrella.

Big on bug collection

Maxed out the bug half of the museum

Gets so excited when seeing Flick

Casual player & often hangs out with ghost

Has had the same villagers since he started

Only really plays if he can play with someone

Got the crown from Ghost (both Ghost & Soap worked to get it for him)

The villagers he has are; Molly, Fauna, Beau, Erik, Deirdre, Pecan, Poppy, Kiki, Mapple, and Ike.

His starter villagers were; Fauna, Deirdre, and Pecan.

His favorite holiday is Festivale and Bug-off

Will take a day off just to sit and play the Festivale event

He'll spend an entire day running around collecting flowers because shiny

His favorite characters are Nat, Flick, & Kiki

The island theme he picked is a sort of glow forest

Item list; Colorful Striped Sweater (navy, light blue, & pink), Oilskin Coat (red), Explorer Shorts (beige), Pineapple Aloha Shorts (red), Outdoor Hat (red), Pacifier (baby yellow) Pacifier (baby orange), Pacifier (baby pink), Rounded Beard, Frilly Knee-high Socks (black), Knee Bandages, Rubber-toe Sneakers (yellow), Rain Boots (red), Fish Pochette, and Fish Umbrella.

The museum is fully maxed out

Shares an island with Gaz, doesn't decorate

He will get super anxious when things are suddenly different

Fishes ALL THE TIME

Only plays to fish for hours

Rich from the fish he catches

Gets lost on the island a lot

Will excitedly shake Gaz if he finds out CJ is roaming around

Is a pro at the fishing tourneys

He has all the special items you can get from CJ

Has the same villagers as Gaz

His favorite characters are CJ and Chip

Gets upset when things block the view of where he's fishing

Will complain about how clapped the villagers look

His favorite holidays are Fishing Tourney and International Museum Day.

Item list; Energetic Sweater (purple), Konnichiwa Tee, Mod Parka (green), Cargo Pants (avocado), Chino Pants (gray), Labelle Cap (midnight), OK Motors Cap, Pacifier (baby gray), Pacifier (baby green), Color-blocked Socks (green), Pom-pom Socks (green), Kerokerokeroppi Boots, Rubber-toe High Tops (olive), Nook Inc. Pochette, and Frog Umbrella.

Loves when it rains

Decorates like crazy

Super pretty and aesthetic island

Specifically created places where Price and fish

He's on fashion and his storage is full of clothes

Doesn't have enough space for his clothes and gets really upset about it

Island aesthetic is neutral neighborhood

He borrows Ghost's cards. He thinks they're really cool

His villagers are; Pietro, Julian, Elmer, Papi, Victoria, Roscoe, Winnie, Savannah, Reneigh, and Annalise.

The original villagers he had were; Julian, Alice, and Elise.

Gaz specifically picks the most obnoxious villagers to annoy Price

He forgets to warn Price when making changes to their island

Favorite holiday is Toy Day

Favorite character is Isabelle

Item list; Chick Tee, Culottes (white), Diaper (light blue), Boa Parka (gray), Denim Overalls (avocado), Kiki & Lala Pin, Pacifier (baby gray), Pacifier (baby mint), Color-blocked Socks (white), Nordic Socks (gray), Tube Socks (navy blue), Cinnamoroll Sneakers, Cute Sneakers (blue), Rubber-toe High Tops (blue), Bear Backpack (brown), and Pineapple Umbrella.

Only plays with Logan and/or Hesh

Shares an island with Logan & Hesh

Hesh's wife plays with them too!

Loves collecting shooting stars & their crafting recipes

Doesn't do anything in particular, mostly just follows Logan & Hesh around

Often watches Logan & Hesh fight over decorating (sometimes antagonizes it & finds it funny)

Logan enjoys having a fall scene, always skipping time to stay in it. Hesh prefers winter. So to compromise they split the island into three parts

Keegan went for a dark cottage-core on his side

Their villagers are; Phoebe, Charlise, Katt, Tybalt, Claudia, Filbert, Kitty, Tammy, Graham, and Vesta.

Their original villagers were; Phoebe, Kitt, and Charlise

His favorite holiday is New Years and Christmas

He always makes sure to play on holidays!

Favorite characters are Timmy and Tommy

Item list; Dreamy Sweater (blue), Garden Tank (blue), Kids' Smock (cherry blossom), Culottes (white), Diaper (light blue), Dreamy Pants (blue), Cinnamoroll hat, Prom Crown (silver), Pacifier (baby gray), Pacifier (baby mint), Pacifier (baby blue), Kiki & Lala Socks, Lace Socks (white), Cinnamoroll sneakers, Mary Janes (blue), Dreamy Backpack (mint), and Blue shiny-bows parasol.

Doesn't share an island with anyone, but is always having shadows play with him on his island

Half the island is worked on the other half isn't. It's been this way for two years

Has a fairy-tale aesthetic (mostly greyscale)

His favorite villager type is dogs

His favorite villager is Cookie

Favorite event is New Years (for the fireworks) and Fireworks show

Favorite character is Redd

His current villagers are; Goldie, Cookie, Portia, Shep, Bea, Butch, Maddie, Daisy, Lucky, Bones, and Boom.

His original villagers were; Lucky, Sparro, and Bam

He has a small collection of cards. He only bought them to collect the dogs more easily but ended up giving up

Plays more than anything when he's injured

Item list; bone Tee, Cardigan School Uniform Top (beige), Two-tone Pants (yellow), Worn-out Jeans (light blue), Paper-bag Hood, Ski Mask (black), Halo, Cosmos Crown, Pacifier (baby gray), Pacifier (baby yellow), Aran-knit Socks (white), Cute Sneakers (yellow), Mary Janes (red), Vivid Socks (yellow), Nook Inc. Knapsack, and Eggy Parasol.

Shares an island with Horangi

Horangi plays way more than he does

Plays New Leaf more than New Horizons

Only really plays when regressed

Absolutely terrified of the bugs and will run away from them or yell until Horangi catches them

Their villagers are; Bangle, Bianca, Claudia, Leonardo, Rolf, Rown, Tynalt, Patricia, Spike, and Merengue.

Their original villagers were; Bianca, Dozer, and Shari.

He really likes talking about animal crossing

He loves playing with people online

His favorite characters are Isabelle and Digby

Horangi conned him into having all the tigers

Island Aesthic is kid core (he begged Horangi)

He has ALL the fruits

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thedivineflowers · 11 months

Text

So like remember that little animal hc of the dorms thingy

And like middle schooler!mc just goes to visit the dorms for no fucking reason but when they go with the animals. Different things happen

I have little knowledge about treating scratches so you're gonna be hearing about rubbing alcohol a lot 🧍‍♂️.

But basically you get hurt in almost all of them and get scratches

Let's start 😋

You were walking to Heartslaybul to visit the flamingos and hedgehogs as usual and when you sat down to play with the hedgehogs. They started pulling at the end of your hair. Pulling your head down to the ground and then they started pulling at the ones closer to your scalp and BABE

That shit hurt like a mf and you couldn't do shit to the hedgehogs because you were too scared to hurt them so you just held onto the pieces of hair they were chewing on to avoid most of the pain. When Riddle came outside he was running in his fucking HEELS to get to you. After some assistance from others you finally got the hedgehogs out and away from your hair.

"Phew. Some hair strands were pulled out but your hair should be fine for the most part." Trey said while Cater put your hair in a ponytail when you mimicked him "#almostlostmyfuckinghair!" Ace and Deuce walked out later to see you with watery eyes and your hair in a messed up ponytail being pampered by the three upperclassmen. “Why does she look like…” Ace waved his hand over your vicinity as Deuce just checked your scalp even thought Trey checked over it a bunch of times. “The hedgehogs got to them and now this is their third time crying because of how bad the rubbing alcohol feels on the bite marks on their hands and scalp.” Riddle sighed and patted your hand as you just huffed and ate the pudding that Cater was feeding you.

You were barging into Savannaclaw to go play with their dog because you were bored and wanted to burn off some energy. You put your stuff on one of the pool chairs and did the most randomest shit with the dog when it started making biscuits on the chair and you were just standing there. It spotted you and when it did it paused. You two were standing in dead silence when Ruggie along with Jack and Leona walked in. They stood there confused but then noticed that you and the dog were having a staring contest. You grabbed your jacket and took it off as you rolled up your sleeves, threw off your tie/bow, took off your socks and shoes and held a stance in front of the dog. You also put your phone in the safety of Ruggies hands (don’t fucking trust him. You’ll look through your photos to find your gallery full of him and goofy baby photos.) You made the move to run away first and the dog started barking and chasing after you as you screamed. You ran around the pool and you ran to Jack and jumped on his back and up to his shoulders as the dog tried jumping to bite you. “GET YO FUCKING DOG!!” You screamed. “It doesn’t bite.” Leona shrugged and you started kicking the air. “YES IT DO LOOK AT IT!!” You shouted and jumped off of Jack and ran towards the pool. The dog chased after you as you Canon-balled into the pool. They eventually had to pry the dog away from you as it started scratching you and pulling you by your hair.

“It keeps on looking at me funny!” You whined and leaned more towards Leona who was sitting next to you and rested his arm on the couch for you to cuddle him if you wished. “He’s gonna haunt your nightmares..” Ruggie said seriously as you whined “Great now the kid and the dog are screaming …” Leona sighed as you and the dog had a yelling match.

You were walking happily to Octanvile to count the fish and do your homework because Azul promised to help you with your math homework. (He also has a soft spot for middle schooler!mc) When you got there Floyd squeezed you very tight and offered to take you up to feed the fishes and such and you of course said yes but this dude left you unsupervised because he forgot he was supposed to do something. You didn’t even know he left.(you could've been fine right?) So you were feeding an eel and this thing pulled you into the water when you didn't expect it and your head was submerged in the water and you were trying to pull yourself out of the tank which didn’t work and you went even deeper into the tank. Jade came around the corner and heard some thudding from where the top of the tank was and saw your lower body struggling to pull you out. Jade grabbed you and pulled you out quickly, you were coughing everywhere and shit and that's when Floyd came back. Azul brought you some clothes and hot chocolate while Floyd apologized "I'm sorry little shrimpy! I thought that if I went and came back quickly you would be fineeee!" Floyd squeezed you while you were sipping on your hot chocolate and pulling the blanket closer to you"It's fine. But that water kinda tasted weird."

You were happily playing some games with Kalim when Jamil and the dog walked in. You and the dog were happily laughing and playing when you threw a toy down the hall for the dog to fetch when it didn’t run for the toy but held a stance in front of you as you stared at it confused. It ran down the hall a little too far and you chased after it but guess what 😟…. the bitch thought that it was a game and kept on running down the hall. “KALIM! JAMIL! HELP ME! GET YOUR FUCKING DOG!!” You shouted for the two but they stayed behind laughing at you. You eventually gave up and let yourself drop to the ground in exhaustion, the dog looked back at you and ran to you just to pull at your hair to signal for you to chase after it. Kalim and Jamil grabbed the magic carpet to get to you two because you guys went VERY far. They broke you two apart and the two offered for you to stay the night to spend more time with them as Kalim got lonely when you weren’t there and Jamil missed you too but kept quiet about it. “There’s still some knots in your hair, looks like we’re gonna have to cut it off…” Jamil sighed and you complained “Nooooooo!! I took a long time to grow my luscious locks and I will not have them cut off!!” You huffed and crossed your arms. “It’s okay Y/n! We can find a way to fix it!” Kalim said to try to cheer you up but you ended up cursing the dog out. As it tilted its head in confusion

You were wearing the pomefiore uniform provided to you and you were walking around with Vil, Epel and Rook and you four ended up sitting around the lounge when the cat walked in and sat down on the table. It started shedding so you all had to be cautious of where you sat and how close you got to the cat so fur didn’t get on your robes (?). Vil thought that it would be a good idea for you to take some pictures with the cat so after it was brushed of its loose hairs they TRIED placing the cat on your lap but it didn’t feel like cooperating and kept on leaving your lap to go sit somewhere else. On the last try you tried petting it to ease it into getting comfy and staying still with you but it hissed and left nasty scratches on your hands and face. You were now crying as Rook had to restrain you to keep you from squirming so much because the rubbing alcohol stung a lot. It got even worse because as you cried your makeup started coming off and seeped into the cuts on your face.

You started kicking and thrashing as you didn’t like the feeling of the stinging and Rook started holding you a little too hard while Vil was roughly rubbing your face with a towel and Epel was off to the side trying to reassure you by rubbing your arm but it did almost nothing in comforting you. “NO!! It hurts!” “Easy enfant, we can’t have you making those wounds worse on your delicate face.” Rook tried calming you and patted your shoulders but it didn’t help and You cried even more "You're scarin' 'em!" Epel shouted as he noticed you started moving away from Vil. Vil finished cleaning your wounds and sighed as he slapped the towel down on the vanity. “I know I know, I’ll just put some ointment on them for you and then you’ll feel better.” Vil said as he caressed your face and patted you cheek as you sniffled. “That hurt like a bitch.” You said as Vil sighed “Language Y/n.” He said “ Shut up you Micheal Kaiser look alike. I can say what I want! Fuck, shit, bitch, pussy-“ Vil yelled over you as he covered your mouth with his finger tips. “Epel what have you been teaching them?”

You were walking around ignihyde with Idia and Ortho and you guys were about to go down some stairs and you specifically happen to pass by one of the cats passageways and the cat scratched your ankle which caught you off guard and it also caused you to fall down the stairs. Ortho checked on it and you could tell it did not look pretty by the look on his face. You ankle had deep scratches and alot of bruising and getting you to stand up would be a challenge. Ortho ended up carrying you to Idias room where you can relax your foot. You got a leg cramp when you were laying which fucking sucked. "That cat hates me- owowowowow!" You winced as Ortho started putting rubbing alcohol on your scratches. "Sorry Y/n. I should have given you a warning but from my scans the scratches should heal with little to no scarring in a week or two. And no picking at the scabs!" Ortho said as he scanned your ankle again. "Your ankle isn't broken and doesn't have any sprains, but the bruises will affect your walking for three days or more before the pain goes away." Ortho said as he moved your ankle around. "Ortho please don't make my leg cramp up again.." you sighed as Ortho laughed and warmed up his hands. "Y/n I'm back. I got you chocolate covered pomegranates, chips, popcorn, and stuff to make battery acid." Idia said as he came in and placed down a butt load of stuff. "I'm gonna tumble your ass on that game from last week." You said as you sat up on the bed and grabbed a controller. "Dont push your luck!" Idia said as you two started the game and immediately you two started going crazy on the controls as Ortho spectated

You walked into the lounge at Diasomnia and place your things down before sitting yourself at the couch. What you didn't know was that you sat on a part of the snake (that you didn't know was left out and alone) which lead it to biting your arm. You screamed in shock and pain as the snake bit you and wouldn't let go. The snake wasn't venomous but had nice fangs as they dug deep into your skin. You heard running and you saw Sebek, Silver, and Lilia as they ran towards you. "Get the potion along with Gauze and some bandages. Once Malleus comes back he can speed up the healing process, we'll have to make do with what we have right now." Lilia said to the two as they nodded and ran to look for the items. Lilia turned towards you as he crouched. "Hey... You're doing great, just hang in there and then you'll feel fine in no time little one." Lilia said as he wiped the tears that quickly fell down your cheeks. "We have the kit and potion." Sebek said as he and Silver rushed to the two of you. "Okay Y/n this is gonna hurt so make sure to hold someones hand." Lilia said as you held onto Silver and Sebeks hand and you squeezed their hands really hard because they were turning red and by the end of it they both sighed in relief. Silver carefully patted your wound with warm cloth and then he placed gauzed dampened with more of the potion as Sebek wrapped your wound. "Alright, are you feeling better?" Silver asked as you nodded. "What a brave and strong child Y/n is!" Sebek said as Silver nodded "they've got a good grip." Silver said as he shivered. Malleus suddenly appeared when he suddenly smelt blood. "Is everyone alright?" He asked as he walked near YOU specifically and saw your bandaged arm. "May I?" He asked as you nodded. He unwrapped your arm and saw the dots on your arm as he hummed. "Hold still. The healing spell I'm going to use will only hurt a bit.." he said as he placed his hand on your arm and wind started forming and you could feel a bit of pressure which made you wince but you tried your best to stay still and after a few seconds the wind calmed down and there were only four pale dotted scars on your arm. "There we go, now you can go run around, how about you go play with the rat. I must have a word with Mr. Snake." He said as you nodded and took a deep breath and reclined on the couch. "Oh, I forgot to say that it will also take some of your energy." Malleus said as he turned around and saw you dozing off next to Silver.

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bwabys-scenarios · 11 months

Text

Reunited

Part 26

Illumi x Reader x Feitan

part 25

part 27

warnings: feitan is still rude, but he’s getting a lil better… just a lil tho. Also mentions of human trafficking and cleaning/cooking a fish, and uvogin eating roosters alive(he was just hungry ok)

A/N: I refuse to contribute to the “uvogin is dumb” stereotype because he’s canonically intelligent.

taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream @canthebest1

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

“I’m headed to town, I’ll be back before dark.”

Feitan watched as (Name) pulled on her second shoe. She wore a pair of overalls over a tshirt, the outfit making Feitan frown.

She was still acting strange, even 2 days later. He’d thought her little mood change would end quickly, but her nervous fidgeting and refusal to eat around him stuck around.

She also wouldn’t wear anything that was slightly revealing, even when the heat was too much to bear. He would catch her pulling off her long sleeves as soon as she thought he wasn’t looking, sighing in relief.

For some reason, this pissed him off.

He didn’t reply to her, focusing on slowly moving his fingers. Over the past day, he’d started getting feeling back in his fingers, so he’d been trying to get them to move as much as possible.

“… bye Feitan.”

——————

(Name) unloaded her goods onto the shelves, making sure the labels were facing the street. A tired sigh left her lips, the girl pulling at her overalls with a huff.

Feitan’s insult had been a hit to her self esteem. She had heard that word a lot growing up, having to hide her body in some vain attempt to keep attention away from her.

After moving out and living alone, she’d grown much more comfortable with herself, wearing tank tops and shorts that barely covered her ass.

Maybe she’d been a bit too comfortable.

Feitan’s presence did make her a bit nervous, but she’d been able to keep her confidence up due to his disinterest in her appearance. He hadn’t seemed to care what she looked like, only ever insulting her intelligence or handiwork, but never saying anything about her physical appearance.

So she was shocked when he said what he did. (Name) didn’t know what to do or say, the memories of a lifetime of bullying and harassment surfacing in her mind.

Usually, the best thing to do was to diffuse the situation by agreeing then distancing yourself, so that’s what she did.

But it was hard to distance herself from someone she was taking care of.

(Name) hadn’t cared what he thought of her before. She didn’t mind if he didn’t find her pretty, not many people did, but the thought of him possibly finding her repulsive HURT.

Over the past 3 weeks she’d come to care for him, maybe not as a friend but as a fellow human being. He’d been hurt, both physically and mentally, and she wanted to try her best to help him.

Although she didn’t expect anything in return for her help, she had at least hoped he would be nicer to her after a while, but it seemed he wasn’t warming up to her. It was a bit depressing. (Name) had thought they could become friends…

She was stirred from her thoughts by the vibration of her cellphone. She reached into her pocket and pulled the device out, seeing Chrollo was calling her.

“Hello, (Name).”

He talked as soon as she’d answered. “Hi Chrollo! Not to be rude, but is there a reason you’re calling?”

“That’s not rude to ask at all. I am calling to inform you that my comrade will be arriving at your stand in…”

He paused for a moment, possibly looking down at his watch or phone screen.

“5 minutes. I tried to call you earlier, but the call wouldn’t go through. I assume it was because of the signal issue you told me about last time.”

“Yes, most likely. Thank you for telling me. Can you tell me your comrades name?”

“His name is uvogin. Don’t worry, you won’t miss him. He’s… large.”

(Name) raised an eyebrow at this. “Alright… thank you again. Is there anything else?”

“Mmm, no. Goodbye (Name). I wish you good luck.”

“Good luck? What do y-“

He hung up before she could finish her sentence.

—————

Chrollo hadn’t lied about him being huge.

(Name) watched as a beast of a man went from stall to stall, asking for her. She stepped out from behind the counter and waved. “Hi, I’m (Name).”

Uvogin stopped in his tracks, taking in her appearance.

She was short, but taller than Feitan. Her face was pretty, and appearance soft. He hummed as he gave her a once over, nodding approvingly. She was definitely someone he could see Feitan being interested in.

“Hey there, doll face. Name’s Uvogin.”

(Name) shrunk under his gaze, peeking at him shyly. “Nice to meet you, Uvogin. You’re a friend of Feitan, right? Come in!”

The man had to crouch to enter her booth, sitting on a chair in the corner. “I have to work for a bit longer, then we can go home. If you get bored you can explore the town, just meet back up with me a-“

“I’ll stay here.”

The girl only nodded, turning her attention to a customer.

Uvogin watched her work, taking in every small detail of her behavior. She was kind, always thanking each customer and smiling even after they left. (Name) rummaged around under her counter and pulled out a box.

“There’s some pastries in here if you’re hungry. The old lady that runs the booth across from me traded some for a few jars of jam. Just leave a few for Feitan, he has a huge sweet tooth.”

Uvogin opened the box, seeing rows of pastries of differing types. “You gonna eat any?”

She paused, looking from the box of pastries then back to the street. “No, I’m not hungry. Please, help yourself.”

He shrugged and complied, eating as many as he wanted.

An hour later and (Name) started packing up her basket, humming to herself as she lifted the leftover jars. Uvogin picked up her basket once she was done, not listening to her protests.

“Can’t let a pretty lady like you carry everything, can I?”

She couldn’t argue with that.

———————

(Name) walked through town with Uvogin, picking up a few things off her grocery list before they made their way to where she parked her bike.

“Oh. We can just walk home, I wouldn’t want to-“

Before she could finish her sentence, Uvogin lifted the girl up and threw her over her shoulder, then grabbed the bike with the hand he held the basket with.

“H-hey! Put me down!”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. He smacked her leg gently to stop her from squirming.

“Quit wiggling, this way will be way faster. Trust me.”

Although (Name) didn’t like it, she complied. “… alright, but don’t drop me.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

(Name) had never gone so fast in her life. The man moved at a speed she didn’t think was humanly possible. If she didn’t close her eyes, she’d get motion sickness.

“U-Uvogin, you’re so fast! Are you like… a track star?”

He laughed again. “No, nothing like that. I do have a lot of experience running away, but never from a fight.”

(Name) gasped. “Oh, you must be very brave then! I dislike fighting myself.”

“Hmm, is that so? I woulda pegged you for a little brawler.” He teased. (Name) giggled at that.

“Oh, you’re funny. It’s strange, you’re nothing like I imagined you would be. Feitan’s so…”

“Unsociable?”

“Yeah!”

They reached her home way quicker than (Name) thought possible, the usually 45 minute bike ride cut down to a 10 minute run.

He dropped her off onto the ground gently, helping her stand. “Yeah, he’s always been like that. Don’t take it personally.”

He patted her butt affectionately, the girl jumping at the contact.

Feitan kicked open the front door, staring at the two.

“… Uvogin.” He said in a greeting.

The man grinned down at him, his hand still on her butt. “Now who got you looking all fucked up?”

Feitan scowled, leaning against the doorway. His eyes drifted from Uvogin’s face to his arm.

Uvogin caught him staring at his hand on her butt and got a mischievous look in his eye.

“You got yourself a cute little nurse taking care of you here, don’t you?”

He pulled the girl closer to him, (Name) stiffening.

Feitan didn’t say anything, instead walking back inside with a huff. Uvogin held back a laugh, letting the girl go and entering her house.

“Um… welcome to my home…”

She followed the two in, wondering if inviting him into her home was the right choice.

“So… Uvogin, what do you want for dinner?”

(Name) sat between the two on the couch. Uvogin took up a majority of it, forcing (Name) to lean her leg against Feitan. For once, he didn’t seem to mind her physical contact.

“How about some roasted chicken?”

“Sure! Any specific sides you want?”

“Whatever you think is best, sweetheart.”

Feitan shot the man a look, (Name) getting up to prepare dinner.

“Feitan, is there anything you’d like?”

“… rice.”

(Name) leaned over the back of the couch, peeking at him. Her face was dangerously close to his.

“What was that Feitan?”

He turned his face away quickly. “Said rice. You deaf?”

She rolled her eyes and walked over to the kitchen.

“Man, Fei, what’s got you all worked up?”

Not many people would be able to notice his stiff posture being a sign he was uncomfortable, but Uvogin did. The shorter man sighed.

“Nothing. What boss sent you for?”

Uvogin grinned, leaning against the couch. “Boss was worried about you.”

Feitan’s eyes were on (Name)’s figure again. “I see. Anything else?”

Uvogin pulled out a cell phone and tossed it to Feitan. The man blinked at Uvogin, the cell phone falling into his lap. “Ah, forgot you can’t move your arms. Boss asked me to give you this. It’s a cellphone that can get signal anywhere, he had Shalnark work on it for you.”

He picked the phone back up and turned it on, showing feitan the screen. It only had the options to call, take pictures, and text.

“It’s simple, but it’ll get the job done.”

Uvogin sniffed the air and raised an eyebrow in Feitan’s direction. “Why do you smell like a chick?”

Feitan groaned. “Shut up.”

——————

“Uvogin, could I ask you for a favor?”

(Name) stood behind the couch, wearing a frilly pink apron over her overalls.

“Sure, you’ve been taking care of this piece of work for a few weeks now, what can I do for you, sugar?”

Feitan shot him a glare, glancing between him and (Name). He wasn’t sure why, but the way Uvogin acted so flirtatiously with her was getting on his nerves.

“I have my hands full in the kitchen, could you go gather some eggs from the chicken coop?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The large man stood, towering over (Name). “I’ll be right back.”

(Name) waved as he left out the door, calling out a sweet thanks before returning to the kitchen. “Hey, Feitan?”

The man didn’t reply, but turned to look at her.

“Since you’re able to move your fingers, do you want to flatten out this pie crust? It might help loosen them up!”

She set the pie crust on the table, smiling at him. Feitan stood up and approached the table, plopping into the chair. (Name) helped to lift his arms, placing his hands in the pan.

She stood behind him and held his hands, showing him how to press down correctly. “Here, like this.”

The feeling of her chest pressed against his back as she helped him only caused Feitan to stiffen. He struggled to concentrate when she was so close that he was able to smell her perfume.

“Oh, you’re getting it! Okay I have to work on dinner, just keep at it and tell me when you’re done.”

She leaned back and walked away, checking on the chicken before pulling out a cutting board.

Feitan tried to steady his breathing. She was always so warm, every time she touched him it was difficult to think.

He watched her from the corner of his eye as he pressed the pie crust down with his fingers. There was a strange warm feeling bubbling in his stomach.

BAWK BAWK!!

(Name) lifted her head at the sound of her chickens panicked calls. She raised an eyebrow in Feitan’s direction before stepping into her flip flops and sprinting out the door. Feitan was quick to follow after her, the man having a hunch to what was happening.

“Uvogin WHAT THE HELL!?”

(Name) threw open the coop to see the remains of two of her roosters lying on the ground, Uvogin having another one in his mouth.

The man looked up nonchalantly, blood dribbling down his chin. “Hey, your chickens attacked me, so technically this is self defense.”

(Name) wasn’t hearing any of this. The girl had taken off her flip flop, smacking him on the back repeatedly. “DROP IT!”

The man did little to protect himself, not even feeling the impact of her blows. He simply caught her wrist.

“Why, it’s already dead. Does it matter?”

He was right, the first thing he did was break the roosters neck, but (Name) used her other hand to tear the chicken from his grasp.

“I know that, but if you eat raw chicken you’ll get sick! At least wait until dinner!”

The girl wrenched her hand free and stormed off, brushing past Feitan. The shorter man blinked, looking between her and Uvogin.

Feitan didn’t often see THAT look on Uvogin’s face, but it never meant anything good.

“Oh ho ho, I like her. She’s feisty.”

He brushed the blood from his mouth, kicking the chickens corpse out of his way. Feitan didn’t like the way Uvogin’s eyes followed (Name)’s hips.

“Uvogin.”

Feitan gripped the man’s arm, his eyes narrowed. “Control yourself.”

Uvogin glanced at Feitan’s hand before brushing it away. “Why? Not like you own her.”

Feitan didn’t answer. Uvogin wasn’t wrong, she wasn’t his, and he didn’t even want her. So why did the thought of Uvogin wanting her in a not-so-friendly way make him seethe?

Feitan knew he found her somewhat attractive, but that’s where his connection to her ended. She meant nothing to him other than being a means to an end.

The black haired man turned on his heels, walking back inside behind (Name).

——————

Feitan couldn’t help but feel annoyed with the current situation.

(Name) sat a plate in front of Uvogin, giving him a smile. “Here you are! I hope the food is to your liking.”

She smiled a bit too sweetly in the man’s direction for Feitan’s liking.

Again, (Name) sat down next to Feitan without a plate of her own, feeding him as Uvogin watched. It was a little embarrassing for Uvogin to see him like this, only worsening his mood.

“There, all done. Would you like some dessert-“

“No.”

(Name) tilted her head. “Are you sure, you always w-“

“I said no.”

(Name) stopped, suddenly standing up and pushing her chair in. “Goodnight Uvogin, I hope the pull out couch will suffice.”

Uvogin nodded through a mouthful of food. “Yeah, should be alright.”

The girl began to walk away.

“(Name)?”

She turned back to look at Uvogin. “Yes?”

“You gonna eat?”

She paused, looking between him and Feitan before pulling at the fabric of her shirt. “Maybe later.”

Then she was gone, shutting her bedroom door behind her. Uvogin glanced at Feitan between bites of food. “What’s up with her?”

The shorter man shrugged, huffing. “Been like that for a few days. Maybe started period.”

Uvogin shook her head. “Doesn’t smell like blood. Would’ve thought you’d known that, Fei.”

“Was joking.”

The muscular man let out a laugh. “I see.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, the only sound being Uvogin’s chewing.

“She acts strange lately. Unnerving.”

Feitan broke the silence with his statement, leaning back against his chair. Uvogin raised an eyebrow. Feitan wasn’t usually the type to care about how others acted if it didn’t affect him, so obviously it was affecting him somewhat.

“Did something happen to make her… upset?”

Neither of the two men were that informed on women, with Uvogin having a bit more knowledge that Feitan.

“Don’t know. Just started acting like that one day.”

“Think back to that day. Did anything happen that was unusual?”

Feitan tried to think back to it, remembering her in her bathing suit and being slapped by a fish.

“She got slapped by fish?”

Uvogin chuckled. “That’s not exactly fun, but she doesn’t seem the type to be mad over that. By the way she’s been acting, maybe you said something to upset her?”

Feitan kept thinking. “Called her idiot, but never got upset with that before.”

He hummed in thought, and then it hit him.

“Called her… something different.”

Uvogin put his elbows on the table, leaning into his hands. “And what exactly did you call her?”

Feitan thought back to all the signs he should have noticed. Wearing less revealing clothes, not eating in front of him, struggling to keep up her happy face in his presence…

“Fatty.”

Uvogin physically recoiled, giving his friend a ‘holy shit’ look before hissing out a low yikes.

“That’s possibly the worst thing you could call a woman. You’ve really outdone yourself, Fei.”

Feitan groaned. “So what? Called her fat, not like it’s untrue.”

Uvogin sighed. “Buddy, it doesn’t matter. Have you commented on her appearance before that?”

“… no? Why matter?”

Uvogin clicked his tongue. “It matters because she probably didn’t think you cared what she looked like, and after you called her that it solidified in her mind that you see her as fat. Probably made her think that’s all you see her as.”

Feitan scrunched his eyebrows together. “But I don’t?”

“Yeah but she can’t read your mind, Fei. Why don’t you try talking to her about it?”

Feitan made an uncomfortable sound, tapping on the table nervously. He didn’t want her to know that he cared about her, even if slightly. “Don’t want to. She’ll get over it.”

With that, Feitan stood and walked to his room. “Gonna sleep. Goodnight.”

Uvogin watched the man leave, a frown on his lips.

He wasn’t an idiot, Uvogin could tell Feitan had at least some kind of affection for the girl. And from his brief time spent with (Name), he could tell this was really affecting her.

‘Guess I’ll have to be a villain in this story. You’ll thank me for it later, Fei.’

——————

“How long will you be staying?” (Name) asked as she placed a stack of pancakes in front of the large man. Uvogin stabbed the top pancake and shoved it into his mouth, chewing for a moment before answering.

“About two days. My ride will be here either Wednesday or Thursday. Depends on how fast he finishes his job.”

Feitan hummed. “Nobunaga?”

Uvogin nodded in response.

“Figured.”

After breakfast, Uvogin and Feitan followed (Name) outside. She had requested the two help with her work, neither able to complain. After all, she was feeding and housing them, did they have the right to?

“Feitan, how are your arms feeling?”

He replied by making his hands into fists, only grimacing slightly. “Can move hands now.”

(Name) gasped, patting his back. “Oh wow, that was quick! You can pick up fruit and drop them into this basket! That way, you don’t need to lift your arms!”

She demonstrated by squatting down and picking up a fallen apple and dropping it into the basket.

He only grumbled at her touch, moving away. Feitan didn’t want to admit to her that he had gained movement in his hand because he had gotten angry Uvogin was leering at her, so he remained silent.

(Name) ignored his attitude, moving onto Uvogin.

“You task is catching some fish for dinner. There’s a fishing pole I-“

“I won’t be needing a pole, sweetheart.”

(Name) followed Uvogin to the river, Feitan only able to watch as he picked up apples. “I’ll be back and forth. I like to use the river water when watering my garden.”

In her hands was a large, elephant shaped watering can. It was cute, something Feitan could picture her using.

She seemed to like the softer things in life, like stuffed animals, magical girl anime, and romance novels. These were all things he’d noticed during his observations.

During the few times he’d entered her room while she was sleeping(to wake her up of course, definitely not to watch her sleep), he’d seen at least a dozen plushies littering her bed, and anime posters taped to her walls.

Her interests were endearing, and he hated how cute he found it. He hated that he LIKED when she’d ramble out her newest interest as she washed his hair.

(Name) was carrying the now full watering can with both hands, the weight of it causing her to groan. Before Feitan could (grumpily) offer his help, Uvogin appeared next to her and grabbed it from her hands.

“I got this, beautiful. Why don’t you rest your pretty little head?”

(Name) blushed at the compliment, quickly hurrying inside. Feitan gave Uvogin a dirty look, his hands gripping the fabric of his pants.

She never shied away with a blush like that with him. What was it about Uvogin that made her react that way? Did she find him handsome, more handsome than HIM? Was it that he was taller, more muscular?

Feitan shook those thoughts from his head.

‘Don’t care. Don’t care what she thinks at all. Just a stupid girl.’

Uvogin wasn’t used to being able to see Feitan’s entire face. Now, he could see every subtle emotion cross over his friends face. Jealousy, self consciousness, embarrassment. Most people wouldn’t be able to pick up on this, but Uvogin knew Feitan better than most.

That meant his plan was working.

The large man had decided that if he wouldn’t admit to his feelings or talk with (Name), he’s flirt with her until Feitan had no choice but to act. After all, they were thieves, and were very possessive of what they viewed as THEIRS.

————————

Around lunch time, (Name) exited the house carrying a tray of sandwiches and drinks. “Hey boys, I made lunch!”

She settled the tray onto the table on her porch, waiting for the two to arrive. Feitan was the first one to walk up, plopping down onto the cushioned chair with a huff.

“Lemonade?”

(Name) nodded, setting his food and drink in front of him. “Yep! Made just how you like it?”

Oh. She’d made it with his taste in mind. Feitan sipped on his lemonade as Uvogin plopped down next to him.

“This is delicious. You know, you’d make a good wife (Name).”

(Name) waved her hand dismissively as her cheeks heated up. “Oh no, I don’t think I’m fit to be a wife. Men have never really been interested in me.”

Uvogin raised an eyebrow as his eyes dragged down her figure and back up to her pretty face. “I don’t see why, you’re easy on the eyes.”

Feitan could tell (Name) wasn’t used to this type of attention by the way she quickly covered her face and ran away. It was confusing to him too, had no one ever told her that she was attractive before? Was it not glaringly obvious?

“Ain’t she just a cutie? I might just have to snatch her up when I leave.”

Feitan sends him a dirty look, gritting his teeth. “No. Need her assistance.”

Uvogin hums. “Ah I see. I won’t take her then.”

Feitan visibly relaxed when he stated this, but Uvogin leaned forward, meeting Feitan’s eyes as a wicked grin spread across his face.

“You wouldn’t mind me just fucking her then, right?”

——————

(Name) jumped at the sound of something crashing on her porch. She left the jars she’d been cleaning in the sink as she raced out the door to see what the commotion was.

Feitan stood over Uvogin, his umbrella pressed against the man’s throat.

“You push your luck,” feitan said through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed and angry.

Uvogin didn’t seem fazed at all, he even looked… excited.

“If I knew all it would take is a little teasing to get you so riled up, I would’ve done so long ago.”

The man easily pushed the umbrella away and jumped into a standing position. He leaned down to whisper something in Feitan’s ear (Name) couldn’t hear, but the shorter man’s enraged expression relaxed slightly, his uneven breathing slowing down.

He grunted in response, shrugging the man off and walking past (Name). Feitan began walking alongside the river, kicking rocks as he disappeared from view.

(Name) turned to Uvogin, perplexed on how Feitan was able to take down such a large man so easily. “… what happened?”

Uvogin shrugged, leaning against the porch railing as he continued eating his 3rd sandwich.

“Just some teasing. Fei’s a bit on the dense side, so I’m just helping him out.”

(Name) didn’t understand how teasing would help him figure out anything, but didn’t question it. It wasn’t her business, but a part of her worried for Feitan. He’d been in an even worse mood than usual.

“Well… go easy on him. He’s…” she stopped before she could call feitan her friend.

“He’s sensitive.”

Uvogin noticed this. It wasn’t often that people stuck up for his unsocial friend, the last time he could remember being in childhood.

(Name) grabbed a sandwich and took a big bite before stepping off the porch and running down the riverside.

Uvogin watched, smirking to himself.

‘Boss will be happy to know Feitan is in good hands after all. She might just be the one.’

He looked down to her half eaten sandwich.

“Can’t let this go to waste.”

——————

(Name) jogged along the rocky terrain until she could see Feitan’s silhouette sitting with his feet in the cold water.

Feitan spared her a glance before continuing to stare into the water, his hands gripping the fabric of his shirt.

“Hey. You doing alright?”

(Name) plopped down beside him and pulled her knees to her chest, joining him in staring at the flowing river.

“… yes.”

(Name) thought about the what to do next for a moment, weighing her options. She took a deep breath and leaned her head against his shoulder, her hair ticking his cheek.

“You’re a bad liar.”

The man didn’t know how to react, his shoulders stiffening to the point she could feel the tension. He didn’t yell or shy away from her touch, staying silent next to her.

(Name) stayed like that for a few more seconds before pulling away and standing up, offering him her hand.

“Come on. I’m gonna show you something cool.”

He looked from her face to her hand, before hesitantly taking it.

———————

(Name) led him by the hand further down the river. Although he wasn’t the biggest fan of physical contact, his hand in hers didn’t bother him, much to his chagrin.

The pads of her fingers rubbed against the back of his hand gently, causing him to tighten his grip. The feeling of her soft, unscarred palm against his calloused one was a nice contrast.

He let himself enjoy the feeling of comfort, silently following her like a loyal dog.

“Just a little further. I think you’ll really like it!”

Their journey continued for a few more minutes before (Name) let go of his hand, jogging toward a forest tree line. Feitan looked down at his hand, the warmth (Name) had provided slowly fading away. He rushed toward suddenly, grabbing her hand again before his mind could stop him.

(Name) continued jogging, only looking back for a second to give him a confused smile.

The two entered the forest, (Name) leading him between trees and over a small stream before she finally stopped.

“Here we are.”

Feitan stepped forward, not daring to let go of her hand as he took in the sight before him.

Wisteria trees created a circle, the center holding a small shack. It had a tinfoil roof and solid wooden walls.

“This is my hideout! I come here when my family visits and I need a break.”

She let go of his hand after giving it a gentle squeeze, opening the door to the shack. “Come on in!”

There was enough room for the two to stand inside comfortably, a few pillows on the ground serving as cushioning. There we a bookshelf full of manga and fantasy novels, the girl pulling a few off the shelf and stuffing them into her bag.

“My parents send me manga and books every month. They have a friend that works at a library so whenever they retire old books they’re sent my way. Is there any that interest you?”

Feitan crouched down next to her, perusing the collection of manga. It wasn’t much, only having a few different series, but Feitan spotted something he’d read before.

It was a dark sci-fi, a manga Chrollo had gifted him after they’d raided an abandoned library.

“This manga doesn’t have a lot of dialogue. I think you’ll like it, Feitan.”

Feitan pulled the first two volumes out of their place, flipping through the pages before nodding. “This one.”

(Name) grinned, stuffing them into her bag. “Alright, anything else?”

He picked a random romance manga, feeling drawn to it for some reason. After filling her bag, the girl sat on the cushion and pushed her hair out of her face.

“So, how are you feeling?”

“Why you ask?”

(Name) poked her lip out in a pout. “Hey, at least answer my question before asking one of your own.”

A ghost of a smile graced his lips. “I’m… okay. Tired.”

She nodded, lying on her back. “Yeah. Uvogin said he was teasing you earlier.”

Feitan scowled. What all did that oaf tell her?

“Really? That all? Didn’t try anything else?”

“No, just ate your sandwich.”

He grumbled at that, crossing his legs. “Always does that.”

(Name) giggled. “You two must be good friends. He seems to care about you a lot.”

Feitan glanced at her, pulling the hood of his jacket over his head. “Yeah. Could say that.”

(Name) didn’t ask anymore questions, instead deciding to chat about his recovery and show him her favorite manga. He didn’t reply much, but he was way less hostile.

An hour passed, the two now quiet. (Name) suddenly stretched, standing up and offering her hand once again.

“Let’s head back, I need to get started on dinner or Uvogin will eat my chickens again.”

Feitan snickered, allowing her to pull him to his feet. His hand remained in hers the entire way back, the man only letting go when the house was in sight.

—————

“Oh wow!”

(Name) peered over the edge of the bucket, several fish staring right back out her. “How many did you catch?”

“13. Already ate some though, so there’s 9 left.”

(Name) didn’t question him on how he ate the fish, instead getting to work descaling and deboning them.

Feitan watched in mild surprise as she worked. He hadn’t expected a soft girl like her to be able to kill an animal and skin it without so much as a squeal.

“Wow pretty lady, you’re good with your hands. How many times have you done this?”

Uvogin sat at the counter, Feitan next to him. They had been watching her work quietly, following every movement she made with curious eyes.

“Oh, I’m the oldest child of a family of six. For a while my family didn’t have much money, so we relied on fishing and hunting to feed ourselves. My momma had her work cut out for her raising my youngest sister, so I ended being the one to clean up any game my dad would bring home.”

She placed the cleaned and battered fillets into a skillet, the sound of them frying echoing through the kitchen. “Although, they’re not my real family, I still love them a lot.”

“Real family? So you’re not their kid?” Uvogin asked, curious. (Name) nodded.

“Yeah, I was adopted when I was four years old. My mom and dad used to participate in an organization called “Bakers for the Broken”. They’d bake bread and pastries and hand them out the homeless kids where I came from. I think the place was called…”

She dropped another fillet into the skillet, humming in thought.

“Oh! It was called Meteor City. Apparently that’s where I was born.”

The two made eye contact, their expressions softening ever so slightly.

“Meteor City, huh? You remember anything about it?”

(Name) paused, her hand instinctively moving towards the left side of her lower back.

“No, not really. Mom and Dad found me wandering around, wearing nothing but an oversized tshirt and shorts. I kept saying that ‘they’re coming for me’. I can’t remember who they are or what they did to me, but apparently it was too awful to tell me, even as an adult.”

She lifted up the back of her shirt, showing a small scar. It was a simple star, with an eye in the middle.

“Apparently they were human traffickers. They cut this into my skin to brand me as their merchandise.”

Feitan’s eyes bore into the mark, his grip on the table tightening. Uvogin wasn’t doing much better.

The memories of their deceased childhood friend flooded their mind. Would (Name) have suffered a similar fate if she hadn’t been saved by her parents?

“I’m getting the mark removed this winter. It’s for the best, considering they could still be looking for me.”

(Name) pulled her shirt back down, taking the finished fish fillets out of the pan and onto a piece of paper towel.

“Sorry, that was a lot to dump on you two. Sometimes when I start talking I just can’t stop.”

She turned to the two, her eyes widening.

They were angry, but she could tell it wasn’t at her. Feitan stood up and approached her, grabbing her wrist. “No. Don’t say sorry. Didn’t deserve that.”

She slipped her hand into his, smiling down at him. “Thanks. I don’t know if I have the right to be upset, since I can’t remember it. There’s a lot of people out there that aren’t so lucky.”

Feitan looked away, squeezing her hand before letting go.

There seemed to be an unsaid agreement between the two. This girl wasn’t their enemy, and although Feitan would continue to be guarded, just knowing she was raised in meteor city created an almost kinship with her in his and Uvogin’s heart.

She may not remember the city, but it would always live on within her. The residents of the dumping city never truly left, their nonexistent birth certificates being the only evidence they’d ever been abandoned there.

Feitan wondered how she’d react to knowing him, Chrollo, and Uvogin hailed from the same city. Uvogin didn’t mention it, so decided to keep quiet on the information as well.

Dinner was more peaceful than usual, Feitan gladly taking dessert this time. (Name) and Uvogin chatted as she fed him his dessert, the air relaxed.

(Name) actually ate with the two this time, laughing at Uvogin’s jokes and poking Feitan’s cheek when he groaned at her puns. He only narrowed his eyes and frowned, when before he would have lashed out with his teeth or words.

She was the first to head to bed, her eyes sleepy. Feitan watched her leave, knowing that Uvogin would want to speak alone.

“So she’s from Meteor City. Ain’t that crazy?”

The large man tossed another pastry into his mouth, his eyebrows drawn together in thought.

“Isn’t unusual for kids to be taken. Must of wandered from residential area.” Feitan stated, staring at her closed door. There was still some residual anger that bubbled in his stomach. What had happened to her, and who had left that mark on her soft skin?

“I got a picture of the mark. When I get into town I’ll send it to the boss. He’ll want to make sure the organization isn’t still active and hunting in that old dump.”

Feitan nodded. He couldn’t stop thinking about her sad expression. Was she telling the complete truth when she said she didn’t remember anything? He wouldn’t press on that, Feitan knew better than most that some memories were better left buried in the dirt.

“He might want to meet her. Pakunoda could be able to see into her memories and get more details about the people that took her.” Uvogin cleared his throat.

“Maybe. This girl more useful than first thought.”

Uvogin shook his head. “Oh stop beating around the bush. You’re interested in that girl aren’t you?”

Feitan paused, his expression unreadable. “Interested? In what way?”

Uvogin groaned, his chair squeaking loudly as he leaned back. “You like her. It’s so obvious that it’s annoying. Every time I flirt with her you look at me like you’ll actually kill me.”

Feitan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t feel that way.”

The larger man rolled his eyes, pushing back his long hair. “Whatever you say, man. Just try to be nicer to her, huh? Seems like she wants to be your friend.”

The black haired man looked up at that, his eyes widening ever so slightly. “Friends? Why?”

Uvogin shrugged. “Dunno, if we hadn’t been friends for years I wouldn’t be able to stand your cranky ass.”

Feitan glanced back at her door, his heart beating faster. He hadn’t made a new friend in years. Sure he met new spiders and wasn’t hostile towards them, but he wouldn’t call them friends.

“I’m leaving early tomorrow. My job here is done.”

Feitan raised an eyebrow at this. “Your job?”

Uvogin pressed a finger to his lips. “That’s a secret, Fei. I’m going to bed.”

Feitan rolled his eyes and left, closing his bedroom door behind him. As he slipped under his covers, he wondered if (Name) would really ever consider him a friend…

Or maybe even something more.

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