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mmani-e · 24 days

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Hello! After all this effort, behold:

DANGANRONPA DEMIX, THH EDITION!

Finally got the talentswap designs I have for the THH characters one and done with! You can click through the read more section for some fun design insights. I'm intending on uploading a doc containing short lore bits about them eventually.

Kyoko Kirigiri - Ultimate Affluent Progeny

So Kyoko's design was both kinda simple, kinda not, wanted to give her a very fine and regal kinda attitude to her but not arrogant as that's very much Byakuya's thing. Her story is that she loves her dad more than the family business and her grandpa so she abandons detective work and just uses her brain to help her dad out.

Makoto Naegi - Ultimate Novelist

Makoto is a wonderful guy, just great all around. He loves writing children's books and happy stories. This is his main coping mechanism so he doesn't have to process any negative emotions he gets, the rest he can't process… well they go into a murderous psychopath alter.

Aoi Asahina - Ultimate Lucky Student

Shoujo protagonist Aoi. Cute, headstrong, affective, competitive, these are all the traits that make her fight for her friends and clash with Kyoko (and more often than not Byakuya) in the killing game, even when all hope seems lost… she pushes through, unafraid to let tears spill from her eyes for all those lost, but pushing all the same.

Byakuya Togami - Ultimate Detective

This one, I wanna go into more lore territory, cause I kinda memed around his last desc I gave him so here goes:

"A disgraced heir of the Togami household, Byakuya lost the competition that would've secured his riches. Disdainful and bitter, he sought out to get to the bottom of why he lost, uncovering a rabbit hole in the process. By the end, he proved his sibling a cheater, but it didn't matter because by the end as he found the sweet satisfaction of uncovering secrets and crushing liars and cheaters under the weight of their hubris far more satisfying than any inheritance."

Sayaka Maizono - Ultimate Spirit Medium

So Sayaka isn't a clairvoyant at all like Yasuhiro, in fact her entire skillset is completely different, first of all she is like an actual psychic, and I based her design off of the japanese Itako, quite loosely. Very interesting group, look it up, also she'll never use these powers in the killing game because I dunno how to even approach these rituals or what they look like or how to write them while remaining respectful, so she won't do it in a killing game for the express reason of her not having the right tools available and not wanting to disrespect her traditions.

Leon Kuwata - Ultimate Swimmer

I really wanna draw him again, all these characters again tbh, and I wanna show off the patterns on his wetsuit. It's a whole coral reef under there, that anemone and clownfish bit is only one part of a whole reef stretching his midline.

Sakura Ogami - Ultimate Programmer

Sakura has installed chips into her body to help optimize her body processes and also cause why not. As for the muscles, she's an Assembly programmer, the programs she's made can run on calculators she loves it.

Chihiro Fujisaki - Ultimate Martial Artist

Chihiro's design here with the two belts is an explicit nod to his preferred martial art - Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, so unlike Sakura in canon who'd be easy to imagine cracking someone's skull in half with a chop, Chihiro's approach is more crawling onto someone and bringing them down to the floor with grappling like an angry halfling monk. As for the belts themselves, on his head is his final junior belt, while around his waist is his current belt, he's not a black belt yet because he's still too young for it.

Celestia Ludenberg - Ultimate Baseball Star

Celestia actually isn't a legend in this AU, Taeko is. Celestia hates that and wants to start a baseball career going international, whatever the hell that means is up to her own definition, but she wants to be remembered forever as Celestia, not Taeko. Also extra sentence, but this is the SINGLE hardest design I've ever had to deal with here, I think in the future I'll be drawing all her little accessories and I have an alt costume for her I have in mind.

Hifumi Yamada - Ultimate Pop Star

So I changed Hifumi's story as I originally outlined in the OG post with him. He was friends with Aoi all his life, pretty much his only friend at all, and ever since he was little he had an obsession with writing songs, because he was obsessed with stuff like anime openings and was content to just keep the songs to himself. It wasn't till Aoi convinced him to share some of his songs that he started his journey to success, but bc he's not traditionally attractive, his first hits were literally just… his voice being played over other more attractive singers and it wasn't until very very recently that he even performed a song of his for the first time.

Toko Fukawa - Ultimate Fanfic Writer

So while Hifumi was clearly a Doujinshi but due to weird translation, ended up as fanfic creator, Touko is straight up a FF then Wattpad then AO3 girl, who would get obsessed with this really shitty, tripe manga that she didn't even like reading. It did however have super hot dudes in it, so she wrote good stories of those characters when she got frustrated with the actual authorial content - which was always.

Yasuhiro Hagakure - Ultimate Gambler

Quite LITERALLY the never stop gambling meme personified into a guy. He can lose 3 mil on slot machines but always comes out fine because it means if he keeps gambling he'll eventually run into his 1/3 and win giga millions, what he needs to pay off his debts. It isn't just with luck though either because his personality and lack of intelligence or understanding of most the rules of the games he plays means he'll never react the way he should when getting a good hand in poker or a bad draw in blackjack, so he wins those games almost always through just… stupidity.

Mukuro Ikusaba - Ultimate Biker

She's number 16 in her gang, and is easily the most loyal enforcer and taskman of the gang. She does anything she's told, to a grim and disciplined degree not typical for hooligan bike gangers, she doesn't really desire a seat as top dog of the gang though, after all she's got school to worry about, and her sister.

Mondo Owada - Ultimate Warlord

So his relationship and Kiyotaka's is gonna be interesting, because I don't want him to be exactly like Mukuro at all, who was just sort of an all-obsessed Yandere. It's more like he's always chafing under Taka, who is less than friendly with him in this AU, really the main way he even lets Taka boss him around is because he pays incredibly well and helps keep his gang members from devolving back into the unstructured, chaotic criminal life, the same that took his brother years ago.

Oh and yeah, he still looks like Guile, as he should.

Sparkling Justice - Ultimate Killer Killer

Yeah it's a reference to Killer Killer, sue me I love the manga. He has Hajirahara's ahoge, and I thought it'd be cute to also give him a mask just like the other Makoto from a Kodaka game series (Raincode.) Also, while Genocide jack stuffs all her scissors in her skirt, Makoto keeps a truth gun with "truth bullets" as his main weapon, the gun he stores inside the big book in the chibi of just Makoto, and the bullets kept on his person as the red buttons all over his body, which he pulls out when he needs to reload.

"Kiyotaka Ishimaru" - Ultimate Fashionista

Unlike Mukuro and Junko, Mondo absolutely cannot hide the fact that he acts nothing like Kiyotaka, though this is surprisingly fine to everyone else, because unlike Junko who plastered herself onto literally everything, Mondo always obfuscated himself from the public spotlight, at most showing only his suits while he hid his face behind something conveniently placed. Which played primarily to his vision of an ultimate fashionista, who was above everyone and catered to the rich and powerful.

Junko Enoshima - Ultimate Moral Compass

This was a fun one, I decided to let her have her red hair because I believe it to be the "natural" look of her hair, while attaching little clips of dyed hair to her buns as a replacement to keep her shape sorta and keep the strawberry blonde somwehere on her. Understand that while she is the "moral compass" she is still pretty deranged, and the only reason she focuses so much on keeping everyone on their best behavior is because it's endlessly entertaining to her to make her fellow moral committee members upset when she blatantly makes a mockery of the rules while still keeping kids on their best behavior to make a point.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru - Ultimate Fashionista and Tyrant, the Iron Hand of Despair

Taka's design I wanted to sort of focus on this sort of, holier-than-thou idea, where I wanted to make him look a lot fancier and upper-class than Junko does in his standard highschool fit compared to him. I wanted him to have an upper-crust sort of look

If you're reading this after reading this all, thanks! You're a wonderful person :) Signing off...

Mani

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marlynnofmany · 23 days

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Secondhand Solutions

Mur gave me a smug look, curling and uncurling one tentacle like a yo-yo. “Told you it was a waste of credits,” he said.

I sighed. “If those human ships were here, it wouldn’t be. This stuff is prime Earth nostalgia.” The small pile of items on the hoversled had seemed so full of promise when I’d bought it at our last stop: cat posters, harmonicas, and a dozen packs of googly eyes.

“Pity we’re far from Earth,” Mur said.

“Yeah,” I agreed, eyeing the locals of this alien marketplace. Lots of scales and exoskeletons. Not many hands that would appreciate the softness of a cat’s fur, and very few mouthparts that would be able to do much with a harmonica. The merchant I’d gotten the stuff from had been a Heatseeker all too happy to unload her stock of cut-rate human nonsense. These folks would likely have similar opinions. I said, “At least it doesn’t expire.”

Mur straightened the individually-boxed harmonicas. “And it shouldn’t take up too much space in your quarters until we meet up with more humans eventually. The captain won’t want to hang around here waiting for them to show up.”

“True,” I admitted. It was gossip from our last stop that had told me they’d be here now. I should have known better than to trust it.

“Well, back to the ship,” Mur announced. “Maybe you can cheer yourself up by decorating your quarters with eyeballs.”

I had to smile at that. “Maybe.” He was already walking back to where we’d parked, on the far side of an over-cultivated garden area. I towed the hoversled after him.

Then I caught sight of some locals who’d run afoul of multiple birdlike beasties, and an idea started to form.

The locals, a half-dozen Heatseekers whose scales ranged from red to pale yellow, were trying to eat a nice lunch at the dining section of the garden. The squawking bird-things, which were half-lizardy with speckled brown feathers and wide beaks, had apparently claimed the bushes for their own. They were contesting this claim by spitting at the Heatseekers every time their backs were turned. These looked like pretty gross spitballs, impressive for birds.

It occurred to me that I’d seen those feathery characters all over the place here. A look behind confirmed it; they lurked in nearly every tree I could see. And judging by the way the locals were abandoning this picnic table, they were a known hazard.

They still only spat at fleeing enemies, hiding or freezing in place when pinned by eye contact.

And that was my idea. “Hey Mur,” I said. “I’ll bet you one shanty sung on a table that I can sell some of these googly eyes right now.”

He stopped and looked around, full of skepticism. “To who?”

“Do you take the bet?”

“Ah, sure. There’s no way anyone here is interested.”

“You say that now,” I said, grabbing a pack and waving down one of the hurrying locals. “But you don’t know how we deal with tigers and magpies.”

“With what?”

I didn’t answer, busy as I was explaining to the local that the false eyes were adhesive, and would give the impression of eye contact from both directions. They were just as interested as I’d thought they’d be.

After a demonstration, during which I strolled through the picnic area and didn’t get a single spitball on me, the birds were unsettled and the locals were more than happy to buy everything I had.

This was a new colony town, you see, and no one had come up with a good solution for the annoying fauna that came with the territory. But these folks were prepared to make everyone’s day.

They certainly made mine. That was five times as much as I’d paid for the stuff in the first place. And they didn’t even want the posters and harmonicas.

I waved goodbye, but they weren’t paying attention, so I turned my grin on Mur instead. He had draped a tentacle around his pointy squid head in exasperation.

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken the bet,” he declared. “But I was so sure it was pointless.”

“And I am sure that whichever song you choose to regale us with at dinnertime will be delightful,” I said, tugging the hovercart around the bushes. The birds watched me carefully, noting the eyes still stuck to my hair, and leaving us both alone. “If it’s a song I know, maybe I can play a backup melody with a harmonica.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#my writing #this one's relatively short so I'm going without the read-more #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #googly eyes #I do enjoy some good be-googling #just made up that word; like bedazzled #it may not catch on #but that's okay #I'm still having fun

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horeformilfs · 3 months

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Rescued From the Nightmares

Miracina x Fem! Reader

TW: Blood, Mentions of ED Behaviors, Mentions of Poison and Torture

Liniștește-te, îngeraș. Ești în siguranță = Calm down, little angel. You're safe

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Amidst the dense forest, Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, Cassandra, Bela, and Daniela, prowled gracefully, their senses sharp and instincts honed for the hunt. The crisp air carried whispers of prey, but something else lingered—a foreign scent, unfamiliar and intriguing.

Bela's keen nose twitched as she caught wind of it, her brows furrowing in curiosity. "Mother," she murmured, her voice a soft melody in the twilight, "do you smell that?"

Alcina, towering and regal, nodded, her crimson lips curling into a predatory smile. "Yes, my dear. I've noticed it too," she replied, her golden eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Let us follow it and see what secrets this forest holds."

With a nod from their mother, the Dimitrescu daughters ventured deeper into the woods, their steps silent and purposeful. Alcina's directive echoed in their minds—explore, hunt, but remain vigilant.

Bela suggested they split up to cover more ground, a notion that Alcina entertained. "Very well," she conceded, her voice carrying authority softened by maternal concern. "Bela, Cassandra, you shall pair up. Daniela, you are with me."

And so they dispersed, weaving through the shadows with practiced ease. Bela and Cassandra navigated the labyrinth of trees until they stumbled upon a clearing, where a young woman lay unconscious, her form draped in a cloak of darkness and blood.

Cassandra's brow furrowed in concern as she knelt beside the fallen figure. "What do we do, Bela?" she asked, her voice a whisper in the stillness of the night.

Bela hesitated, her gaze flickering between her sister and the stranger at their feet. "We bring her to Mother," she decided, her tone resolute. "She will know what to do."

They carried the unconscious woman back to the agreed meeting point, where Alcina and Daniela awaited their return. Alcina's gaze narrowed as she took in the sight before her, her maternal instincts tinged with caution.

"Who is she?" Alcina inquired, her voice a velvet whisper laced with authority.

"We found her while exploring, Mother," Bela explained, her voice steady despite the weight of uncertainty.

Alcina regarded the stranger with a measured gaze before nodding in agreement. "We shall bring her back to the castle," she decided, her voice commanding yet gentle. With practiced grace, Bela transferred the injured woman into Alcina's arms, their journey back to the castle beginning in silence.

The grand halls of Castle Dimitrescu welcomed the returning huntresses with an air of quiet anticipation. Alcina's wife, Miranda, awaited their arrival, her presence a calming anchor amidst the storm of their nightly endeavors. As the Dimitrescu daughters approached, Miranda greeted them with a warm smile, her gaze flickering with curiosity.

"How was the hunt, my darlings?" Miranda inquired, her voice a soothing melody in the cavernous hall.

Cassandra's lips curved into a satisfied smirk as she recounted their exploits, her words painting a vivid picture of the night's escapades. But Miranda's smile faltered when her eyes fell upon the unconscious woman cradled in Alcina's arms, her brow furrowing in concern.

"What happened?" Miranda asked, her tone laced with worry as she turned to Alcina for answers.

Bela stepped forward, her voice steady as she explained their unexpected encounter in the abandoned base. Miranda listened intently, her expression softening with understanding as she absorbed the tale.

Alcina, ever composed, interjected with a gentle reminder of the woman's injuries. "Miranda, she is in need of your expertise," she stated, her voice a velvet whisper tinged with concern.

Miranda nodded, her resolve firm as she accepted the responsibility thrust upon her. With a graceful motion, Alcina transferred the unconscious woman into Miranda's waiting arms, their gazes locking in silent reassurance before Miranda disappeared down the dimly lit corridors, her burden cradled close to her heart.

Left alone with her daughters, Alcina's focus shifted to the task at hand. "Clean yourselves up," she instructed, her voice firm yet gentle. "Dinner will be served in a few hours."

The Dimitrescu daughters nodded in understanding, their movements fluid as they made their way to their chambers to prepare for the evening ahead. Meanwhile, Alcina dispatched a maid to fetch Miranda's equipment, ensuring that her wife had all she needed to tend to their unexpected guest.

Alone in their shared room, Alcina found Miranda tending to the stranger's wounds with practiced expertise, her hands gentle yet sure as she worked. With a soft smile, Alcina offered her assistance, their bond a silent testament to the strength of their union.

Miranda's skilled hands moved with precision as she tended to the unconscious woman, her focus unwavering despite the weight of uncertainty that hung in the air. Alcina stood by her side, a silent sentinel ready to offer assistance at a moment's notice.

As they worked, their conversation drifted to the mysterious circumstances surrounding the woman's appearance in the abandoned base. They speculated quietly, weaving tales of intrigue and danger, each possibility more fantastical than the last.

With practiced ease, Miranda finished attending to the woman's injuries, her touch gentle as she wrapped them in sterile dressings. She cleaned her equipment methodically, her movements a ballet of efficiency and grace.

A faint stir from the woman interrupted their quiet conversation, and Miranda's hand instinctively reached out to steady her. Alcina's voice, a soothing balm in the darkness, reassured the woman of her safety, her words a promise of protection amidst the unknown.

But the woman, disoriented and confused, attempted to rise from her makeshift bed. Miranda's gentle touch halted her movement, her voice soft yet firm as she urged the woman to rest.

"You're safe now," Alcina assured her, her gaze unwavering as she met the woman's eyes. "You're in good hands."

The young woman's words cut through the air like a chilling breeze, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. "I need to leave," she pleaded, her eyes darting nervously towards the door. "They'll hurt me if they find me here."

But her legs buckled beneath her, and she stumbled, leaning heavily against the sturdy wooden doorframe for support. Alcina approached her cautiously, her voice a soothing melody amidst the woman's turmoil.

"You're safe here," Alcina reassured her, her tone gentle yet unwavering. "No one will harm you."

Miranda's keen gaze softened as she observed the young woman's distress, her heart aching with empathy for the pain etched in her features. "You need antibiotics," Miranda explained calmly, her voice a steady anchor in the storm.

At the mention of needles, the woman's eyes widened with fear, her body tensing in anticipation. "No, please, not again," she pleaded, her voice tinged with anguish.

Alcina's brow furrowed in concern as she listened to the woman's words, a sense of foreboding settling over her. "What do you mean, 'again'?" she inquired gently, her voice laced with quiet concern.

"They..." the woman trailed off, her voice choked with emotion. "They always give me shots," she confessed, her words heavy with the weight of trauma.

Miranda guided the woman to the bed, her touch gentle as she offered comfort and reassurance. She sat beside her, her presence a steady anchor in the tumult of emotions swirling around them.

As Alcina administered the injections, Miranda offered words of encouragement, her voice a soothing balm to the woman's frayed nerves. With the first needle's prick, the woman held her breath, her knuckles turning white as she clutched Miranda's hand in a vice-like grip.

"Remember to breathe, sweetheart," Miranda murmured, her voice a gentle reminder of their shared humanity.

The second injection followed, and the woman squeezed Miranda's hand tightly, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Miranda praised her bravery, her words a beacon of light in the darkness of her fear.

"You did very well, my dear," Alcina added, her voice warm with pride as she applied bandaids to the tiny puncture wounds.

The young woman's eyelids grew heavy, the effects of the medication beginning to take hold. With a soft sigh, she swayed dizzily, her strength ebbing away as she slipped from the edge of the bed. Alcina's swift reflexes caught her before she could hit the ground, her voice a steady anchor in the swirling sea of confusion.

"Easy now," Alcina murmured, her arms enfolding the woman in a protective embrace. With gentle care, she lifted her and settled her back onto the bed, beside Miranda.

The woman, her name still a mystery, sought solace in Miranda's presence, her heart yearning for the warmth of connection amidst the chill of uncertainty. Miranda welcomed her into her embrace, her touch tender as she brushed a stray lock of hair from the woman's face.

Alcina watched over them, her gaze soft with compassion as she took a seat beside the young woman. She reached out, her hand resting lightly on the woman's shoulder, a silent gesture of support and reassurance.

"You're safe here, sweetheart," Miranda whispered, her voice a gentle caress in the darkness. "Rest now, and let your worries fade away."

Alcina's voice joined Miranda's, their words weaving a tapestry of comfort and solace around the woman. "We'll protect you," she promised, her tone firm yet gentle. "You're not alone."

The young woman's lips parted in a feeble attempt to speak, her voice barely a whisper amidst the quiet of the room. Miranda's gentle touch silenced her, a soft shushing sound soothing her restless mind.

"Rest now, my dear," Miranda murmured, her voice a gentle melody in the darkness. "There will be time to talk later, once you're feeling better."

The woman, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion, nodded weakly, her protests silenced by the comforting embrace of sleep. She sank deeper into Miranda's arms, her body yielding to the pull of slumber as the warmth of safety enveloped her.

Curiosity flickered in her eyes as she gazed up at the two older women, a silent question lingering on her lips. Alcina's voice, warm and reassuring, broke the stillness of the room as she introduced herself and Miranda.

"I am Alcina Dimitrescu, and this is my wife, Miranda," Alcina explained, her tone gentle yet proud. "And you, my dear, what is your name?"

Miranda's gaze softened as she awaited the woman's response, her heart brimming with compassion for the stranger in their midst. "We would like to know who you are sweet girl," she added, her voice a gentle invitation to trust.Y/n's voice, soft and hesitant, broke the silence of the room. "My name is Y/n," she murmured, her eyes flickering with uncertainty as she met Miranda and Alcina's gazes.

The apology tumbled from Y/n's lips, her voice laced with self-doubt. Alcina's brow furrowed in confusion at the unexpected apology, prompting Y/n to explain her concern about intruding on their relationship.

Alcina's gaze softened, a flicker of understanding passing between her and Miranda. "You have nothing to apologize for, my dear," Alcina assured her, her voice warm with reassurance. "You are not an inconvenience."

Miranda echoed Alcina's sentiment, her touch gentle as she urged Y/n to rest. "Sleep now," Miranda whispered, her words a soothing lullaby in the stillness of the room. "We'll talk more later."

With a tender kiss to Y/n's forehead, Alcina bid Miranda and Y/n farewell, her footsteps fading into the distance as she left the room. Y/n shifted slightly, pulling away from Miranda's embrace, her eyes clouded with uncertainty.

"Are you alright?" Miranda asked, her voice soft with concern as she observed the turmoil in Y/n's expression.

Y/n's response was hesitant, her words tinged with guilt. "I shouldn't be getting so close to a married woman," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

But Miranda's touch was gentle yet firm as she drew Y/n back into her embrace. "If you need comfort right now, that's what matters," Miranda reassured her, her words a beacon of understanding in the darkness of Y/n's doubts. "You're not doing anything to jeopardize our marriage."

Y/n relaxed into Miranda's arms, her fears melting away in the warmth of their shared embrace. Miranda pulled the duvet over them both, cocooning them in a blanket of safety and comfort as Y/n nestled closer to her.

With a final kiss to Y/n's forehead, Miranda whispered words of comfort as Y/n drifted off to sleep, the weight of the world easing from her shoulders in the embrace of those who dared to care. And in the heart of Castle Dimitrescu, amidst shadows and secrets, a stranger found solace in the arms of those who welcomed her with open hearts.

Amidst the quiet intimacy of their room, Alcina returned from her brief check on the girls, her footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit chamber. She approached Miranda with a questioning gaze, concern etched into the lines of her elegant features.

"How is she?" Alcina inquired, her voice a gentle murmur as she regarded Miranda with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

Miranda's gaze softened as she turned to face her wife, a small smile gracing her lips. "She's sleeping now," Miranda replied, her voice soft with reassurance. "She was worried about us being married."

Alcina's brow furrowed in confusion at the revelation, prompting Miranda to explain Y/n's concerns. "She doesn't understand why she feels that way," Miranda added, her voice tinged with empathy.

A tender silence enveloped them as they pondered the complexities of Y/n's feelings. "I don't mind that she's come into our lives," Miranda confessed, her words a testament to the depth of her compassion.

Alcina's gaze softened with understanding, her hand reaching out to intertwine with Miranda's. "I agree," she murmured, her voice a whispered affirmation of their shared sentiment.

They lingered in quiet companionship for a while longer, their thoughts drifting amidst the gentle ebb and flow of conversation. Two hours passed in the blink of an eye, and soon, the aroma of dinner wafted into the room, heralding the arrival of their meal.

Miranda stirred Y/n gently from her slumber, her touch tender as she guided the sleepy woman to sit up. Y/n instinctively gravitated towards Miranda, seeking solace in the comforting embrace of the older woman.

Alcina's voice broke the silence, her tone warm with affection as she informed Y/n of their dinner. With her help, Y/n sat up and began to eat, the simple act of nourishment a testament to the newfound bond forged between them.

But as Y/n pushed the food around on her plate, Alcina gently urged her to eat, her voice filled with concern. "You should try to eat something, my dear. It will help settle your stomach," she suggested, her eyes flickering with worry.

Y/n hesitated, her appetite diminished by memories too painful to share. "I'm not hungry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Miranda exchanged a concerned glance with Alcina, her brow furrowing in worry. "Is there a specific reason why you don't want to eat?" she inquired gently, her voice filled with empathy.

Y/n's gaze flickered with hesitation, her mind torn between the desire to confide in them and the fear of burdening them with her past. But finally, she found the courage to speak, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession.

"When I was given meals at the base... they were usually poisoned," she admitted, her words heavy with the weight of truth. "They wanted to see which poisons I was immune to."

Shock and anger rippled across Alcina and Miranda's faces at Y/n's revelation, their hearts heavy with the weight of her suffering. "We would never do such a thing," Alcina vowed, her voice laced with righteous indignation. "We want you to be safe here."

Miranda's hand reached out to gently touch Y/n's, her touch a silent reassurance of their commitment to her well-being. "We want to help you," she murmured, her voice soft yet determined. "Please, try to eat something small. It will help with the antibiotics."

With a shared understanding passing between them, Y/n nodded slowly, her trust in Alcina and Miranda growing with each passing moment.

As the weeks passed, Y/n found herself gradually integrating into the life of Castle Dimitrescu. She formed bonds with Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela, the Dimitrescu daughters taking a liking to her gentle nature and welcoming her into their fold. But it was with Alcina and Miranda that Y/n grew closest, finding solace and security in their presence.

Despite the warmth of their companionship, Y/n continued to sleep on the floor each night, a silent testament to the lingering trauma that haunted her dreams. The softness of the bed and the comfort of the room were foreign to her, a stark contrast to the harsh realities she had endured before being rescued by Alcina and her daughters.

To Y/n, the comforts of the bed were reserved for those who had earned them, not for someone like her. So she sought refuge on the familiar embrace of the floor, finding solace in the hum of the heating and the warmth of a simple rug beneath her.

It was only when Miranda and Alcina gently encouraged her to embrace the comfort of the bed that Y/n began to realize the true extent of her fear of sleep. The gentle weight of the comforter, the warmth of the mattress, and the softness of the pillows were foreign sensations, overwhelming in their unfamiliarity.

But with their reassurance, Y/n tentatively allowed herself to sink into the embrace of the bed, the promise of safety and comfort beckoning her into the realm of sleep. Yet, as the night wore on, the darkness of her dreams crept in, suffocating her with its tendrils of fear and despair.

The first night in the shared bed was plagued by bone-deep screams, the echoes of her nightmares reverberating through the quiet of the room. Alcina and Miranda at her side in a n instant, their gentle words a soothing balm to her troubled soul as they guided her back to the shores of wakefulness.

But even as they slipped back into unconsciousness, the nightmares returned with a vengeance, tearing through the fragile veil of sleep with relentless ferocity. Hour after hour, Y/n fought against the darkness, her throat raw from screams and her body drenched in sweat.

Yet, through it all, Alcina and Miranda remained steadfast at her side, their unwavering presence a beacon of light in the darkness of her nightmares. And as the night faded into dawn, Y/n clung to their comfort, the promise of a new day offering a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows of her past.

The echoes of Y/n's screams filled the room, jolting both Alcina and Miranda from their sleep. Right away, they were at her side, their comforting presence a shield against the encroaching darkness of her nightmares.

Miranda gently cradled Y/n in her arms, feeling the tremors that coursed through her body. "Draga mea, shh, you're safe," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody in the night.

Alcina's hand rested on Y/n's shoulder, her touch firm yet gentle. "Îngeraș, we're here for you," she reassured, her voice a comforting murmur.

Y/n, caught in the throes of her nightmares, clung to Miranda, her tears soaking into the fabric of her nightshirt. Between sobs, she tried to articulate the horrors that plagued her dreams, but her words were disjointed and unintelligible.

Miranda pressed a tender kiss to Y/n's forehead, her voice a calming presence amidst the storm. "Shh, my dear, it's okay. We're here with you," she murmured, her fingers gently stroking Y/n's hair.

Alcina leaned in, her lips brushing against Y/n's temple. "Take your time, îngeraș. We're not going anywhere," she said, her voice a steady reassurance.

The trio remained intertwined in the bed, a tableau of comfort and solace in the face of Y/n's turmoil. Alcina and Miranda worked in tandem to calm her racing heart and ease the tension that gripped her.

As Y/n continued to cry into Miranda's neck, Alcina whispered soothing words in Romanian, the melodic cadence a balm to Y/n's restless soul. "Liniștește-te, îngeraș. Ești în siguranță," she murmured, her voice a gentle lullaby.

Miranda continued her soft reassurances, offering a comforting refuge for Y/n to lean into. "It's alright, my dear. We're here to help you through this," she whispered, her words a promise of unwavering support.

After some time, as Y/n's sobs began to subside, Alcina and Miranda exchanged a knowing glance. "Let's talk about it in the morning," Alcina suggested, her tone filled with understanding.

Miranda nodded in agreement, gently wiping away Y/n's tears. "Sleep, Draga mea. We'll face this together when the sun rises," she murmured, her words a gentle promise of a new day, free from the shadows of the night.

#resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #alcina #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x female reader #alcina dimitrescu imagine #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x female reader #mother miranda #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda x y/n #mother miranda imagine #miracina #miracina x reader #miracina x female reader #miracina imagine

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rafesapologist · 3 months

Text

the setback ─ rafe cameron; part two

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: substance use, alcohol, mentions of crime, infidelity

Rafe navigated through the throngs of partygoers, a forced grin plastered on his face as he exchanged pleasantries with familiar faces. Topper and Kelce were holding court near the keg, their laughter mingling with the music as they regaled their friends with tales of their latest conquests.

"Hey, Rafe!" Topper called out, clapping him on the back as he approached. "Glad you could make it, man. This party's gonna be legendary."

Rafe forced a chuckle, the weight of the small bag tucked into his pocket suddenly feeling heavier than ever. "You haven't seen anything yet," he replied, flashing a sly grin as he reached into his pocket and produced the bag of coke.

Topper's eyes lit up with excitement as he took in the sight, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. "Now we're talking," he said, his voice barely audible over the pounding music. "This party just got a whole lot better."

Kelce nodded in agreement, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for the perfect spot to indulge. "Hell yeah, let's do this," he said eagerly, his voice tinged with anticipation.

Rafe felt a surge of adrenaline course through him as he handed the bag to Topper, a sense of reckless abandon washing over him. In that moment, surrounded by the pulsing beat of the music and the raucous energy of the party, he couldn't help but feel alive in a way he hadn't in a long time.

But beneath the surface, a nagging voice whispered warnings of the dangers that lay ahead, a reminder of the thin line between euphoria and despair. As he watched Topper and Kelce prepare to indulge, Rafe couldn't help but wonder if tonight would end in triumph or tragedy. Only time would tell.

The living room pulsed with the rhythmic beat of the music, the air thick with anticipation as Rafe, Topper, and Kelce huddled together on a couch and chairs arranged around a coffee table. With shaky hands, they set out lines of coke, each one a promise of temporary escape from the realities of their lives.

"Ready, boys?" Topper asked, his voice a hoarse whisper as he leaned in close to the table.

Rafe nodded, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Topper and Kelce prepare to snort a line each. He felt a strange mixture of excitement and trepidation coursing through him, a sense of danger lingering in the air like static electricity.

"Let's do this," Kelce muttered, his voice trembling slightly as he leaned in closer to the table.

With a shared glance, the three of them leaned down simultaneously, their noses hovering just above the lines of coke. In unison, they took a deep breath, their hearts racing as they prepared to snort the powder.

And then, with a swift motion, they each inhaled sharply, the powder disappearing into their nostrils in a cloud of white dust. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they savored the rush of euphoria coursing through their veins, the world around them fading into oblivion as they surrendered to the sweet embrace of escape.

As the boys lifted their heads from the table, Rafe couldn't help but let out a low groan, the rush of the substance hitting him with a jolt of energy. For a moment, he tilted his head back, allowing the sensation to wash over him before shaking his head quickly to clear it.

"Alright, enough of that," Rafe exclaimed, his voice cutting through the haze of the room. "It's time for shots!"

His words were met with enthusiastic cheers from the group of boys, their excitement palpable as they eagerly rose from their seats and made their way towards the makeshift bar. The promise of alcohol served as the perfect complement to the rush of the coke, a potent combination that promised to take the night to new heights.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Rafe led the way, his steps sure and steady as he navigated through the crowd towards the bar. As he reached for a bottle of liquor, he couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through him, the thrill of the night stretching out before him like an endless expanse of possibilities.

Tonight, he would embrace the chaos, revel in the euphoria of the moment, and forget, if only for a little while, the weight of his troubles. And as he raised a shot glass in a silent toast to the night ahead, Rafe couldn't help but feel a sense of freedom wash over him, a fleeting glimpse of paradise in a world fraught with uncertainty.

With a grin plastered on his face, Rafe passed out shot glasses to his friends, the anticipation of the night's adventures coursing through their veins. The room buzzed with excitement as they raised their glasses in a silent salute, the clinking of glass filling the air like a symphony of celebration.

"Here's to tonight!" Rafe declared, his voice ringing out above the din of the party.

The group echoed his sentiment with enthusiastic cheers, their voices blending together in a chorus of anticipation. And then, with a simultaneous motion, they threw back their shots, the fiery liquid burning a path down their throats as they swallowed it down in one smooth gulp.

For a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of their shared experience hanging in the air like a heavy fog. And then, as if on cue, the music resumed, the party roaring back to life with renewed fervor.

Rafe grinned, the rush of the alcohol mingling with the remnants of the coke, sending a surge of energy coursing through his veins. Tonight was shaping up to be one for the books, a night filled with adventure and excitement, a night where anything was possible.

As he glanced around at his friends, their faces illuminated by the pulsing lights of the party, Rafe felt a sense of camaraderie unlike anything he had ever known. In this moment, surrounded by the people he loved, he knew that no matter what the night held in store, they would face it together, united in their pursuit of the ultimate thrill.

As the effects of the alcohol and coke began to course through Rafe's system, a warm and intoxicating haze enveloped him, dulling the edges of his inhibitions. Sofia, the beacon of his thoughts just moments ago, faded into the background, her presence replaced by the allure of the party and the promise of new experiences.

With a devilish grin, Rafe's gaze wandered across the crowded room until it landed on a girl nearby. She caught his eye, returning his smile with one of her own, and Rafe felt a surge of confidence surge through him.

"Hey there," he said, sauntering over to her with a cocky swagger. "What's your name?"

The girl laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she sized him up. "I'm Lily," she replied, her voice low and sultry. "And you are?"

Rafe flashed her his most charming grin, leaning in closer as he extended his hand. "I'm Rafe," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "And I have a feeling tonight's about to get a whole lot more interesting."

Lily's amusement danced in her eyes as she leaned in closer to Rafe, the tantalizing promise of the night hanging in the air between them. With each exchange of words and lingering glance, the tension crackled like electricity, a palpable energy drawing them closer together.

As the music pulsed in the background, Rafe and Lily engaged in a dance of seduction, their banter filled with innuendo and playful teasing. Subtle touches and shared laughter further fueled the flames of desire, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment.

Rafe couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through him as he reveled in the thrill of the chase, his heart pounding with anticipation. Lost in the heat of the moment, he allowed himself to be swept away by the allure of this mysterious girl, his thoughts consumed by the promise of what could be.

Deep down, beneath the veneer of confidence and bravado, a nagging voice whispered warnings of caution in Rafe's mind. This wasn't him—not the Rafe who valued loyalty and sincerity, the Rafe who would have never considered flirting with a stranger while in a committed relationship.

Two years ago, he wouldn't have even looked at Lily twice, let alone engage in the flirtatious dance they were now entangled in. But the potent mixture of substances coursing through his body had clouded his judgment, turning him into a stranger—a ticking time bomb on the brink of something self-destructive.

Despite the thrill of the moment, a sense of unease gnawed at Rafe's conscience. He knew he was playing with fire, dancing dangerously close to the edge of a precipice from which there might be no return. But in the haze of the party, with the allure of the substances pulling him further into the abyss, he found himself unable—or unwilling—to pull away.

As he continued to exchange seductive glances and subtle touches with the random girl, Rafe couldn't shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of a precipice, one wrong move away from tumbling into the darkness below. And yet, in that moment, the pull of the unknown was too strong to resist, and Rafe found himself surrendering to the intoxicating rush of desire, heedless of the consequences that awaited him on the other side.

As the heat of the moment intensified and Rafe found himself locked in a passionate embrace with Lily, a sudden surge of clarity pierced through the fog of intoxication. In the midst of their heated makeout session, an unexpected image flashed before his eyes—a haunting vision of your face, your eyes filled with hurt and disappointment.

The sight stopped Rafe in his tracks, his heart skipping a beat as the reality of his actions came crashing down around him. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled away from Lily, his mind reeling with confusion and guilt.

"Wait," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

Lily blinked in surprise, confusion flickering across her features as she searched his face for answers. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

But Rafe couldn't bring himself to answer. The image of your face lingered in his mind like a ghost, a haunting reminder of the person he used to be and the choices he had made.

As the image of your face flashed before him, a pang of longing pierced through Rafe's heart, stirring up a torrent of conflicting emotions. In that moment of vulnerability, he found himself grappling with the overwhelming desire to seek solace in the arms of the girl before him, even as the memory of you lingered like a specter in his mind.

With a mixture of desperation and resignation, Rafe seized the opportunity to pull Lily close once again, his lips crashing against hers in a feverish kiss. But despite the physical connection, his mind was elsewhere, lost in a whirlwind of regret and yearning.

As their kiss deepened, Rafe's thoughts drifted further away from the present moment, consumed by the memory of you—the person who had captured his heart and held it captive, even in your absence. In the heat of the passion, he clung to the fleeting illusion of intimacy, desperate for a temporary reprieve from the ache of longing that gnawed at his soul.

As the intensity of their embrace deepened, Rafe found himself losing himself in the moment, the rush of desire clouding his senses and driving him to seek solace in the arms of the girl before him. But as their passion reached a fever pitch, a sudden surge of guilt and longing welled up within him, threatening to overwhelm his fragile facade.

As the name slipped from his lips, a surge of panic shot through Rafe's veins, but the intoxicating blend of substances clouding his judgment stifled the impulse to address his slip-up. With a reckless abandon fueled by the drugs coursing through his system, he ignored the weight of his mistake and instead doubled down on the kiss, burying the nagging voice of guilt beneath a veil of indifference.

Lily pulled back, her eyes wide with surprise and confusion as she searched his face for answers. "What did you say?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Lily's momentary confusion was met with Rafe's feverish embrace, his lips moving hungrily against hers as if trying to drown out the echoes of your name with each fleeting touch. The urgency of his actions masked the turmoil churning within him, a futile attempt to escape the truth of his betrayal and the longing that threatened to consume him whole.

As the kiss intensified, Rafe lost himself in the sensation, allowing the rush of desire to wash over him like a tidal wave. With each passing moment, the boundaries between reality and illusion blurred, and he surrendered himself to the reckless abandon of the night, heedless of the consequences that awaited him on the other side.

In that fleeting moment of abandon, Rafe relinquished himself to the seductive allure of the substances coursing through his veins, allowing them to guide his actions and shield him from the harsh glare of reality. And as he sank deeper into the embrace of the girl before him, he pushed aside the lingering doubts and fears, choosing instead to embrace the fleeting ecstasy of the present, no matter the cost.

As Rafe's lips moved against the stranger's, a wave of ecstasy washed over him, momentarily transporting him to a place where reality and imagination intertwined. In that fleeting moment of bliss, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to succumb to the illusion, imagining you standing before him as if you had never left the islands, as if you had never vanished without a word of explanation.

In his mind's eye, he saw you as vividly as if you were there in the flesh, your presence filling the empty spaces within him with a warmth he had longed for since the day you disappeared. He imagined the sound of your laughter, the sparkle of your eyes, the gentle touch of your hand against his cheek—all the things he had missed and yearned for in the lonely nights that followed your departure.

With each passing moment, the line between reality and fantasy blurred, and Rafe found himself lost in a reverie of what could have been, of the life they could have shared if only things had been different. The weight of his longing mingled with the intoxicating rush of the substances coursing through his veins, amplifying the intensity of his emotions until they threatened to consume him whole.

But even in the midst of his ecstasy, a nagging voice whispered warnings of caution in Rafe's mind, reminding him of the painful truth he had tried so desperately to bury. As he opened his eyes, the illusion shattered like glass, leaving him grappling with the harsh reality of your absence and the wounds it had left behind.

Rafe's mind raced as he looked at the girl before him, torn between the conflicting desires warring within him. The potent cocktail of liquor and coke coursing through his veins clouded his judgment, blurring the lines between right and wrong, desire and regret.

For a moment, he entertained the dangerous idea of surrendering to his desires, of allowing himself to indulge in the illusion that the girl before him could fill the void left by your absence. But deep down, he knew that she could never compare to you—that no one could ever take your place in his heart.

As he weighed his options, Rafe felt the weight of your memory pressing down upon him, a constant reminder of the love he had lost and the pain he had endured in your absence. The thought of betraying your memory filled him with a sense of shame and guilt, but the allure of escape proved too tempting to resist.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe made his decision, choosing to give in to his desires for just one night—to pretend, if only for a fleeting moment, that you were still here by his side. It was a reckless choice, driven by the desperate longing that gnawed at his soul, but in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care about the consequences.

As he leaned in to resume their embrace, Rafe pushed aside the doubts and fears that threatened to engulf him, allowing himself to be swept away by the illusion of intimacy and the promise of temporary escape. And as he lost himself in the heat of the moment, he couldn't help but wonder if, just for tonight, he could find solace in the arms of a stranger and forget, if only for a moment, the pain of your absence.

With a reckless abandon fueled by the intoxicating mix of substances coursing through his veins, Rafe found himself surrendering to the moment, his inhibitions drowned out by a desperate longing for escape. Ignoring the warnings of his conscience, he turned to the girl beside him with a daring glint in his eyes.

"Hey," he said, his voice husky with desire. "Wanna go upstairs?"

The girl's eyes widened in surprise, her lips parting in a silent gasp as she met his gaze. But instead of recoiling, a mischievous smile spread across her face, a silent agreement passing between them.

"Lead the way," she replied, her voice a sultry whisper.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

As you lay on the towel, the golden warmth of the sun kissing your skin, the rhythmic lullaby of the ocean waves enveloped you in a soothing embrace. Lost in the tranquility of the moment, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the worries of the world melting away with each gentle caress of the breeze.

Suddenly, the serene ambiance was shattered by JJ's arrival from the ocean, his surfboard in tow. Standing above you, he unleashed a playful assault, shaking his wet hair vigorously, sending a cascade of droplets raining down upon you.

You let out a surprised squeal, laughing as you shielded yourself from the impromptu shower. Despite the initial shock, you couldn't help but join in JJ's infectious laughter, the carefree joy of the moment washing over you like a wave crashing upon the shore.

"JJ, seriously!" you protested, your voice tinged with mock annoyance as you brushed the droplets from your face.

As you reclined on the towel, still recovering from JJ's playful assault of seawater, he settled in beside you, a grin playing on his lips as he observed your sun-kissed complexion.

"Hey there, beach babe," he teased, nudging you gently with his elbow. "You're looking pretty tan today. And check it out, your freckles are making a comeback."

You couldn't help but laugh at his observation, running a hand self-consciously over your face as if to confirm his words. The summer sun had indeed left its mark, sprinkling your cheeks and nose with a smattering of freckles that seemed to multiply with each passing day.

"Blame it on all those hours we've been spending out here," you replied, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Guess I can't complain about getting some color, though."

JJ chuckled, the sound mingling with the gentle rhythm of the waves as he settled back on the towel, his gaze lingering on your face.

"Nah, you're rocking it," he said, his tone genuine as he reached out to give your shoulder a playful squeeze. "Besides, freckles are cute. Adds character."

You rolled your eyes playfully at his compliment, but couldn't help the warmth that spread through you at his words. As you settled into conversation with JJ, the cares of the world seemed to melt away, replaced by the easy camaraderie and warmth that defined your friendship. And as you laughed and joked together, surrounded by the beauty of the beach and the comfort of each other's company, you couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like these—for the simple joys that made life worth living, and for the blond boy who made every day a little brighter.

JJ's azure eyes lingered over your sunscreen-covered skin, the sunlight casting a soft glow upon it, enhancing its silky texture. A smile played at the corners of his lips as he took in your lively demeanor, the way the sunlight danced in your hair and the warmth of your laughter filled the air. In that moment, it seemed as though you had been brought back to him, vibrant and full of life.

As he watched you, a sense of gratitude welled up within JJ, grateful for your presence beside him, for the easy companionship and genuine connection you shared. In a world filled with chaos and uncertainty, you were his anchor, grounding him in the here and now, reminding him of the beauty that surrounded them.

With a gentle sigh, JJ leaned back on the towel, content to bask in the warmth of the sun and the comfort of your company. As he gazed at you, a sense of peace washed over him, knowing that as long as you were by his side, everything would be okay. And in that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the beach and the warmth of your friendship, JJ couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the gift of your presence in his life.

You caught JJ's gaze lingering on you, and with a playful grin, you raised an eyebrow in mock suspicion. "What are you looking at?" you teased, nudging him gently with your elbow.

JJ's expression softened, his azure eyes warm and genuine as he met your gaze. "Just admiring the view," he replied with a lopsided smile. "I haven't seen you this happy in a long time."

A blush crept up your cheeks at his words, surprised by his observation but warmed by the sincerity in his tone. "Well, I have you to thank for that," you admitted, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Being out here with you, it's like all my worries just melt away."

JJ's smile widened at your words, a flicker of pride shining in his eyes. "Glad I could help," he said, reaching out to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, you know."

You squeezed his hand back, touched by his sincerity. "Right back at you, JJ," you said, your voice soft but earnest. "Thanks for always being there for me."

JJ's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching your expression as if trying to read your thoughts. A curious furrow creased your brow as you met his gaze, wondering what had prompted his sudden inquiry.

"Do you ever miss your life back on the cut?" he asked, his voice quiet but earnest.

The question hung in the air between you, the weight of its implications sinking in. Memories of your past life on the cut flooded your mind, a mix of nostalgia and pain intertwining as you considered JJ's question.

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you thought back to the carefree days spent on the islands, the salty sea breeze and the warmth of the sun on your skin. But beneath the surface, there was a darkness—a shadow that lingered in the recesses of your mind, a reminder of the trials and tribulations you had faced.

"It's complicated," you replied finally, your voice soft but tinged with emotion. "There are definitely things I miss about it—the freedom, the sense of adventure. But there are also things I'm glad to leave behind."

JJ nodded understandingly, his gaze softening with empathy. "I get that," he said, his tone gentle. "Life on the cut wasn't always easy, but there were moments of magic too."

As you sat together, lost in contemplation, a sense of camaraderie settled between you—a shared understanding of the complexities of life and the bittersweet nostalgia of memories past. And as you gazed out at the endless expanse of the ocean before you, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the present moment.

But JJ's question lingered in your mind like a persistent echo, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions as you contemplated your past life on the cut. Memories, both sweet and bitter, flooded your mind—the bustling streets of the chateau, the familiar faces of the locals, and the thrill of adventure that had once defined your days.

But amid the nostalgia, there was a darker undercurrent—a reminder of the tumultuous relationship you had shared with Rafe Cameron. For a fleeting moment, you found yourself swept up in memories of the highs and lows, the dizzying rush of passion and the crushing weight of betrayal. There had been a time when you had believed in him, when you had thought that love could conquer all.

But as you reflected on the pain and heartache he had caused, the illusion shattered like glass, leaving behind a bitter taste in its wake. The truth was clear now—Rafe Cameron was nothing more than a manipulative and selfish individual, incapable of genuine love or loyalty. And with each passing day, your hatred for him grew stronger, fueled by the wounds he had inflicted and the scars that still lingered.

In that moment of clarity, you realized that while life on the cut had held its moments of magic, it had also been fraught with danger and deception. And as you looked to the future, you knew that leaving it all behind had been the right choice—one that had freed you from the toxic grip of Rafe Cameron and paved the way for a new beginning.

"I'm just glad to be away from Rafe Cameron," you admitted, your voice steady but tinged with a hint of defiance.

JJ nodded in understanding, a flicker of sympathy flashing in his eyes. "I get that," he replied, his tone somber. "He's caused a lot of pain for a lot of people."

You nodded in agreement, the weight of his words resonating with your own experiences. "Yeah," you said, a bitter edge creeping into your voice. "But I'm not going to let him define me or my future. I'm done with that part of my life." As you spoke, a sense of determination settled over you, a steely resolve to move forward and leave the darkness of your past behind.

As the memories flooded back, you found yourself transported to that fateful day—the day you arrived on the island that would change your life forever. The sun beat down mercilessly as you and JJ made your way through the dense underbrush, your hearts pounding with a mixture of fear and determination.

John B stood at the center of the group, his expression grave as he recounted the events that had led to their current predicament. "They're framing me for murder," he explained, his voice tinged with desperation. "But it wasn't me. It was Ward, trying to cover up what Rafe did." His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of their implications settling over you like a suffocating blanket. The betrayal cut deep, leaving you reeling with shock and disbelief.

As John B's words hung in the air, a wave of confusion and disbelief washed over you. "What do you mean, 'what Rafe did'?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mixture of shock and incredulity.

John B met your gaze, his expression grim as he recounted the harrowing truth. "Rafe… he's the one who killed Sheriff Peterkin," he explained, his voice heavy with sorrow. "Ward's been covering for him, making it look like I'm the one responsible."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as John B's words sank in, the enormity of the revelation hitting you like a ton of bricks. Rafe Cameron, the boy you had once known, had committed an unforgivable act—a crime that had shattered lives and torn apart families.

A swell of emotions rose within you—anger, disbelief, betrayal. How could Rafe, someone you had once been in love with, be capable of such a heinous act? And how could Ward, his own father, be complicit in covering up the truth?

As John B's words sank in, a cold shiver ran down your spine, and your knees threatened to give way beneath you. The world around you seemed to blur, and your stomach churned with a sickening mix of disbelief and horror.

The boy you had once loved, the boy whose laughter had once filled your days with warmth and joy, was capable of something so heinous—a crime that had torn apart lives and shattered families. It felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath you, leaving you reeling in a sea of uncertainty and despair.

But even more devastating was the realization that Rafe, the boy you had once trusted and cared for, could be so shallow as to let his own father accuse one of your friends for his wrongdoing. The betrayal cut deep, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and a knot of anger and sorrow in your chest.

As you struggled to process the enormity of what John B had revealed, a sense of determination ignited within you—a resolve to seek justice for Sheriff Peterkin and to clear John B's name of the false accusations that had been leveled against him. No matter the cost, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead, you would stand by your friends and fight for what was right, even if it meant facing the painful truth about those you once held dear.

As Sarah's voice broke through the heavy silence, her words filled with remorse and sorrow, you felt a pang of sympathy wash over you. Despite the betrayal her family had inflicted, she remained steadfast in her loyalty to her friends.

"I'm so sorry," Sarah murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. "I never thought… I never wanted any of this to happen."

Kiara's comforting presence at your side offered a small solace amidst the storm of emotions raging within you. As she wrapped her arms around you, you buried your face in her shoulder, the weight of the truth crashing down on you like a tidal wave. Tears streamed down your cheeks, unchecked and unbidden, as the shock and disbelief threatened to overwhelm you.

"How could he do this?" you whispered brokenly, your voice choked with emotion. "How could Rafe… How could he let Ward frame John B for something he did?"

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of betrayal and grief. The boy you had once cared for, the boy you had once believed in, had committed an unspeakable act of violence, and in his cowardice, he had allowed another to shoulder the blame. As you grappled with the painful truth, Kiara's presence offered a glimmer of comfort, a reminder that you were not alone in your pain.

As the weight of betrayal and sorrow pressed down upon you, a fire ignited within your heart—a fire fueled by anger, pain, and a deep-seated sense of betrayal. In that moment, you made a solemn vow to yourself, a vow born from the depths of your anguish and despair.

"I hate him," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I hate Rafe Cameron and all that he stands for."

The words hung heavy in the air, a declaration of war against the boy who had once held your heart in his hands. With each syllable uttered, you felt a surge of determination wash over you, a determination to rid yourself of the toxic influence that had poisoned your past and tainted your memories.

In that moment, you swore to yourself that you would forget—forget the love you had once felt, forget the pain of betrayal, forget the boy who had shattered your illusions and broken your heart. You would bury those memories deep within the recesses of your mind, locking them away behind a wall of resentment and indifference.

And though you knew that forgetting would not be easy, you were determined to try—to scrub clean the slate of your past and start anew, free from the shadows that had haunted you for so long. With each passing day, you would strive to leave behind the pain and sorrow of yesterday, forging ahead into a future untainted by the darkness of your past.

As you grappled with the decision to erase Rafe Cameron from your life, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that physical distance now separated you from him. Thousands of miles stretched between you, a vast expanse of ocean and land that made the chance of a chance encounter slim to none.

In some sense, the physical separation made it relatively easy to move forward without him. No longer would you have to worry about catching a glimpse of him on the street or in public places, no longer would you have to navigate the awkwardness of shared social circles or mutual acquaintances. He was now a world away, a distant memory fading into the depths of your past.

But despite the physical distance, the reminders of his presence lingered like ghosts in the corners of your mind. The memories of the love you had once shared, the laughter and the tears, the moments of joy and heartache—they were all still there, etched into the fabric of your being. And though you tried to push them away, to bury them deep within the recesses of your mind, they persisted, a constant reminder of what once was.

The hardest part, you realized, would not be the physical absence of Rafe, but rather the emotional weight of his memory. The knowledge that he had once been a part of your life, that he had once held a place in your heart—it was a bitter pill to swallow. But with each passing day, you vowed to chip away at the walls he had built around your heart, to reclaim your sense of self and your identity, free from the shadows of the past.

In your mind, he was dead to you—a relic of a bygone era, a chapter in your life that had come to a close. And though the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and uncertainties, you were determined to walk it alone, forging ahead into a future untainted by the ghosts of your past.

As you forged ahead with your determination to leave Rafe Cameron and the memories of your past behind, unbeknownst to you, he remained trapped in the very place where you had once shared countless memories together. Every corner, every street, every familiar landmark served as a haunting reminder of the love that had once bloomed between you.

But for Rafe, these reminders were not bittersweet echoes of a bygone era. Instead, they were a constant source of torment, a relentless barrage of memories that threatened to consume him from within. He had no idea of the repulsion you felt towards him, no inkling that you had moved on and left him behind.

Instead, he found himself spiraling into a downward spiral of self-destructive behavior, his mind clouded by a fog of regret and longing. Despite the passing of two long years, the pain of your absence still gnawed at him like a festering wound, leaving him adrift in a sea of loneliness and despair.

And as he wandered the familiar streets, lost in a haze of nostalgia and longing, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness, a void that no amount of alcohol or drugs could ever hope to fill. He longed for the comfort of your presence, the warmth of your touch, but knew deep down that it was a longing that could never be fulfilled.

In his mind, you were still the girl he had once loved, the girl who had changed the trajectory of his life, his first love. And though he tried to push you away, to bury the memories of your time together deep within the recesses of his mind, they persisted, a constant reminder of what he had lost.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, Rafe began to realize the depth of his mistake—the magnitude of the pain he had caused and the consequences of his actions. And though he knew that he could never erase the past, he vowed to do whatever it took to make amends, to find redemption for the sins of his past and to prove himself worthy of the love he had once taken for granted.

For you, the decision to leave Rafe Cameron and the memories of your past behind was a choice born from a place of strength and determination. With each step forward, you felt a sense of liberation, a freedom from the chains of your past that had once bound you so tightly. Though the road ahead was uncertain, you walked it with a newfound sense of purpose, determined to carve out a future untainted by the shadows of your past.

But for Rafe, the passage of time had done little to ease the ache of your absence. Despite his best efforts to bury his feelings deep within the recesses of his mind, they persisted, a constant reminder of the love he had once lost. The pain of your departure gnawed at him like a festering wound, leaving him adrift in a sea of loneliness and regret.

As he wandered the familiar streets of the island you had once called home, Rafe found himself trapped in a downward spiral of self-destructive behavior. Each reminder of your absence served as a cruel twist of the knife, a relentless barrage of memories that threatened to consume him from within. Though he tried to drown out the pain with alcohol and drugs, it was a futile effort—a temporary reprieve from the agony that lingered in his heart.

And though you despised him, repulsed by the thought of the boy he had once been, Rafe remained unaware of your feelings, his mind clouded by a haze of longing and regret. In his eyes, you were still the girl he had once loved, the girl who had captured his heart and changed his life forever.

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#rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #rafe angst #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx

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just-j-really · 4 months

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Unsoulmates AU, part two!

Part one is here.

Hob isn't exactly expecting to run into his not-soulmate again. The man doesn't text him after Will's engagement party, not even to provide his name, and after a week of valiantly staring at his phone and willing it to buzz Hob is forced to admit that maybe he hadn't been serious.

It stings. For once it would have been nice to have someone realize he means it when he says that soulmates are bullshit.

But he's too busy to dwell on it, much. He has sets to build and an anxiety-inducing new job to get used to and about seventeen different hobbies he's accidentally abandoning.

He's at a party with some of Will's Strange Art Friends, digging through the top shelf of Will's absurdly tall cabinets, when a deep, familiar voice asks, "What are you doing?"

"Banditry," Hob says cheerfully, once he's finished not concussing himself on the cabinet door in shock. "Will promised me he'd bought some of 'those gross licorice things only I like' but he was really unclear about where they are." The cabinet he'd been rummaging in is clearly not the place, being full of expired soda and electrical tape, so Hob closes the door and leans over to the next one. "Did you come in here for snacks, too?" he asks, when there's no response from behind him.

"No," his not-soulmate replies, blandly. "I was hoping for a moment alone." His tone clearly implies that Hob's presence is ruining his evening, and Hob should either leave the room or cease to exist immediately.

"Ah," Hob replies. It stings, again, even though that's utterly absurd and he barely even knows this man. "I'll be gone in a sec," he adds, because he'll be damned if some asshole sabotages his Snack Quest, "just let me find my licorice."

The man- Hob should really get his name if they're going to keep running into each other like this- sighs loudly, but doesn't make any sort of verbal objection to Hob's continued presence. Hob ignores him, and resumes his Quest.

It takes three minutes of stony silence, but Hob eventually uncovers the licorice in a bowl on top of the fridge, which is not even close to being 'in one of the cabinets', Will. He's about to retreat from the kitchen with his prize, when the man says, "You actually do know Will," in a tone of utter confusion.

"Yeah," Hob says, slowly turning to face him. The man is sitting sprawled on the counter, his bearing almost regal except for the part where he's staring at Hob like Hob is a dog who unexpectedly started doing calculus.

"How???" the man finally asks. Hob can hear the extra question marks in his voice, even if his tone stays even.

"Used to date his archenemy," Hob says, with a shrug. "We stayed friends after Kit moved."

If anything, this seems to confuse the man further. "Or we became friends after Kit moved, anyway," Hob adds, possessed by a desperate need not so much to fill the silence as to keep voicing his thoughts. "Up until that point I'd wanted to support my boyfriend and all, but then he left and I wanted to keep building sets so I started to work with Will instead."

"You. What?"

"I volunteered to help build sets at that little theater Will used to work at," Hob says. "That was how I met both of them, actually. But then Kit and I started dating and that doesn't actually matter to what you were asking, does it?"

To Hob's utter bafflement, his not-soulmate nods at him to continue. Again, 'regal' is the only word for the gesture, even though he's sitting on a grimy counter in the nasty, yellowish lighting of Will's kitchen.

So Hob makes himself comfortable against the fridge and starts again, detailing the entire stupid saga of Kit-and-Will-and-Hob-making-the-whole-thing-much-worse-in-an-attempt-to-be-a-supportive-boyfriend. And at some point he swerves off into just talking about Kit-and-Hob, which is nice, because most of his friends were there for Kit-and-Hob, and don't find his sappy reminiscing terribly interesting.

And somehow that loops all the way around to how he was technically working for the government at that point, which, of all things, was the root cause of him getting on speaking terms with Will again. That and Kit moving, although it is really weird talking to Kit now because he can't avoid talking about the fact that he's accidentally befriended Kit's mortal enemy-

"You're still in touch with him?" Hob's not-soulmate asks softly.

Hob turns to fully look at him and regrets it immediately. Over the course of his ramblings, he'd moved from the fridge to the counter next to his not-soulmate, so that he could sit down and also easily share his licorice.

This means that his face is much closer to his not-soulmate's than he'd expected it to be, and for a moment he's lost in the blue of the man's eyes, the open intensity of his gaze.

"Oh. Uh, yeah," he says, when he's managed to remember the question. "The breakup was..." he trails off, looking for a word, and finally settles on, "amicable?"

His not-soulmate gives him that little 'go on' nod again. And Hob knows- he knows- that he should get some higher standards, but the quickest way to his heart is, and always has been, prompting him to keep talking, and he can feel himself falling as surely as he can feel the blush overtaking his face.

So he tips his head toward his not-soulmate, so that he can keep his voice low and still be heard above the crowd in the next room, and says, "Faustus got picked up. And like half of the filming was going to be overseas, but I couldn't leave London, at least not right then." His not-soulmate gives a look that isn't so much 'confused' as 'entirely uncomprehending,' so Hob adds, "I'd messed up my knee real bad." He gives the offending kneecap a hard tap and immediately regrets it. "Long story. I spent most of that summer in doctor's offices. And hospitals. So. 'Quit your job to travel with your boyfriend for a few months' was not really an option, for me. And he didn't want to do long-distance. So we broke up."

"Your soulmate left you alone, in pain, because he 'didn't want to do long-distance'?" Hob's not-soulmate asks. There’s something raw, close to pity but more tender, in his face, which makes Hob feel unbelievably guilty for laughing at the question.

"Oh, god, no," he says, with an expressive wave of his hand. "Kit wasn't my- No. Met his soulmate while he was filming Faustus, actually, otherwise we might have-" And then Hob shuts that sentence down, hard, because the breakup itself doesn't hurt as much as that part.

"Anyway," he says, and is about to ask if his not-soulmate wants to hear the story of how he busted his knee, it's pretty funny, actually-

"But if he wasn't your soulmate-" his not-soulmate asks, leaning toward Hob.

There hadn't been much space between them in the first place, is the thing. And now Hob's not-soulmate is leaning even closer, staring at him like an entomologist studying a particularly fascinating insect, and leaving Hob with exactly two options: tilt his head up, just a bit, and kiss him, or succumb to gravity and fall backwards into the sink.

"Hey, Hobs, I just realized-" Will says, walking into the room. He proceeds to choke on his own tongue, while Hob's not-soulmate jerks away from Hob like he's on fire, and Hob gracefully avoids the sink by falling off the counter entirely.

Will is the first to regain his composure. "Oh. Morpheus," he says, nervously, "I thought you left."

Hob looks sharply up at- at Morpheus, apparently, biting back a litany of questions. It makes sense that his aloof, mysterious stranger is the same aloof, mysterious stranger that Will credits for editing his first successful play to the point that it was a success. But with the way Will talks about Morpheus he'd been half-expecting a deity.

"I did not," Morpheus says. He's back to looking bored and regal, not a hair out of its artfully disheveled place, which is just rude given that Hob is still in a heap on the floor.

"Well if you're planning to stick around," Will says, "I'd been meaning to ask you about Midsummer-"

Morpheus' eyes light up, and he slides off the counter and sweeps out of the room, Hob clutching his candy in both hands to stop himself from physically reaching out to say, No, wait.

Will, at least, lingers for long enough to mouth, "Sorry," and shrug, before following him.

"What the fuck was that?" Hob asks aloud, when he's left alone with his bruised dignity.

The cabinets have no response.

He's not sure what he's expecting after that, but it certainly isn't for Morpheus to text him, Would you like to meet for coffee? the next day.

Of course Hob says yes.

He's smarter about it, this time. Makes sure he's seated in the café, with a double espresso and a plan, by the time Morpheus comes in. He doesn't even ask so what the fuck was that when Morpheus sits down next to him, no matter how much he wants to.

Instead, he says, "Why did you ask me to come here?" with all the frustration he'd felt the exact moment he'd hauled himself off of Will's kitchen floor, knee protesting viciously, trying to make sense of Morpheus, who'd willingly listened to him talk for close to an hour and then left without bothering to say goodbye. It's a step above what the fuck was that, but not by much.

"Because I'm interested," Morpheus says, his voice low.

"In. Me?" Hob asks.

"In your experience," Morpheus says, with more exasperation than Hob thinks is really fair for someone who just said he was 'interested' while staring at Hob's lips. "I want to know what it's like. Dating without looking for your soulmate."

Ah, Hob thinks. At least that makes sense. He's aware that avoiding his soulmate makes him an anomaly- sure, actually Waiting For Your Soulmate is less common these days than it used to be; plenty enough people are willing to have casual relationships in the meantime, but even then in the meantime is an implicit part of the equation.

He can accept it, if Morpheus' 'interest' in him is purely curiosity, as long as he knows where they stand.

And, to be honest, the fact that Morpheus is curious at all is... gratifying. Most people aren't even that.

So Hob downs his drink, grins at Morpheus, and proclaims, "It's fucking brilliant."

[Part Three]

#dreamling #unsoulmates au #my fic #I am renaming this universe because i feel like 'anti-soulmates' gives the impression that i think soulmate aus are bad or something #I do plan to write more of this #I have like. an outline and shit #but I cannot make any promises about when i will do that #i've got 17 WIPs and 0 attention spans

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moremousewrites · 24 days

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Through your Eyes

Pairing: Astarion/Tav (gn)

Request link

Summary: Your companions had a difficult time understanding what exactly you saw in Astarion. It seemed as though you were polar opposites. When you meet a young girl named Yenna, the camp starts to consider that maybe there's more to Astarion than they realized

Tags: Fluff, comfort

A/N: thank you for the request! They don't explicitly make a comment about letting Yenna stay with them but it's implied at the end. There's also some spoilers about the game but nothing too revealing.

Astarion had a reputation in camp for being a bit rough around the edges. Well, moreso that he was a manipulative jerk with no regards to other's feelings. You didn't share that opinion at all and your party was not sure why.

It isn't as though they hated him, just that he was sort of impossible. And what seemed more impossible was your love for him. You had sacrificed time and time again for total strangers- ones Astarion encouraged you to abandon and yet you couldn't stand to be apart for even a moment.

It made everyone a bit uneasy. Except Lae'zel who just thought you had a death wish and it was irritating to watch you put yourself in danger. But you trusted Astarion, he'd shown you that you could, even after he confessed his ulterior motives to you, you knew he was trying to survive just like you.

In Rivington, a child named Yenna asked for your help. The companions you traveled with knew Astarion was not a fan of children, he'd made that clear. They expected him to shoo the child away, until you helped her and he… approved? No snarky comments, no chastising. He thought you were doing something right.

It came as a bigger shock when she asked to stay with you at camp and Astarion said nothing of it. She wasn't the first stray you'd let in your camp. He'd made a fuss about Arabella. But it seemed your generosity was rubbing off on him.

Still, the camp wasn't convinced.

“I don't mean to doubt their wisdom, but it seems like an odd choice to trust him” Gale whispered to Shadowheart.

Shadowheart shrugged. “They're an adult. Besides, if we say anything we'll probably drive them closer together” she said, watching you help Yenna set up her things. Astarion offered a pet to Yenna's cat but it evaded him, looking very skittish.

“You're not wrong, I just don't understand what they have in common. Tav is so selfless and he's… Astarion” Gale mused. Rainclouds formed in the sky, blocking the sun. Your companions built their tents in preparation.

But Yenna looked very pale. Night came and the storms became violent. Wind blew the rain sideways and thunder exploded over the camp. You stayed with her in the barn, holding her as she shook like a leaf. Astarion brought extra blankets from your tent, giving you some warmth while you waited out the storm.

He could tell the young girl was terrified. It was a novel thing for him to see someone so scared and want to help. It wasn't something he'd go out of his way to do, but you were so caring and seemed important that he tried; for you.

“Yenna, would you like to hear a story about when Tav was scared?” He asked, a sincerity in his voice he rarely showed. Yenna nodded and bundled up more. Astarion began regaling her in stories of your adventures, painting a dramatic picture of you trembling in horror but gaining the courage to strike down your foes.

Gale had to leave his tent, nature was calling and the sound of the rain was not helping. As he made his way to the edge of the woods, he heard a sound through the heavy rainfall. It sounded like a child's laughter. There you were, holding Yenna in your lap, and watching intently as Astarion made animated gestures and scary monster noises. Gale was in shock. This couldn't be the same vampire that nagged at you for helping the children at the grove. Surely he was some doppelganger sent by Orin.

But it had to be him. Orin wouldn't have acted so out of character. This perplexed Gale. He left to the woods, doing what he initially set out to. And when he returned, Yenna was asleep in your arms. Astarion looked into your eyes, sharing some thought only the two of you would know. Gale waited, wondering if perhaps you knew this side of Astarion that he did not. Perhaps he had changed for the better. For you.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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soulofapatrick · 8 months

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Behind Closed Doors - Henry Fox x Male Reader

Summary: Henry is in your bed having sneaked into the Whitehouse with the help of Amy and it's been nearly six months since you've seen each other

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Smut; very gay smut; anal fingering; anal sex; blowjobs; fluff

Y/N’s POV

The laptop screen flickers to life, casting a cold, bluish hue across the dimly lit room. On the screen, Prince Henry is the epitome of regal composure, his posture immaculate, his expression stoic and controlled. The tension in his shoulders is palpable, the lines etched on his forehead telling tales of the countless responsibilities that rest on his shoulders. His azure eyes, although mesmerising, appear guarded, a perpetual veil of restraint concealing the depths of his emotions. The smile that graced his lips is a well practiced one, polite and diplomatic, but it never truly reaches his eyes, leaving them to shimmer with a distant glint.

I glance away from the screen to the very same Prince fast asleep beside me. The contrast striking.

Here, in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Prince Henry is just Henry. He’s a world away from the formalities of his public and royal life. He lies on his side, his body sprawled in a relaxed, unguarded manner that defies the rigid protocols of royalty. His chest rises and falls in a gentle, even rhythm, his breaths syncing with the tranquility of the moment. The meticulously coiffed hair that graced my screen is now a disheveled mess, each strand of his golden locks framing his face in wild abandon. His cheeks are tinged with a natural, healthy flush, a stark contrast to the pale veneer he often wears in public.

As I observe him, I can’t help but notice the subtle shifts in his expression as he dreams. The stoic mask he wears for the world has slipped away, revealing the true Prince Henry beneath. A small, contented smile plays on his lips, and it’s genuine - unburdened by the expectations of diplomacy. It’s a smile that comes from the heart. In his slumber, he’s just a man, stripped of titles and obligations, free to express his emotions without restraint.

I can’t help myself, reaching out and gently brushing my fingers against his cheek, marvelling at the softness of his skin and the warmth beneath. He stirs slightly, nuzzling his face into the pillow, seeking comfort and letting out a small snuffle before those beautiful eyes flutter open sleepily.

The cool, distant glint in his azure eyes has been replaced with a sense of serenity and vulnerability. He blinks a few times, adjusting to the soft lighting in the room, and then he turns his gaze towards me. It’s a moment of unspoken connection, as if we share a secret, a world of our own.

With a lazy, contented smile, Henry reaches out to gently take my laptop from my hands, placing it on the bedside table. Then, in a slow and deliberate move, he grips the front of my pyjama shirt and tugs until I find myself hovering over him.

Our lips meet in a tired, yet passionate kiss. It’s a kiss that speaks of comfort and love. Our mouths move together, synchronised in a dance of affection, and I can taste the lingering sweetness of sleep on his lips. It’s a gentle, unhurried kiss, having all the time in the world as no one knows he’s here in America or the Whitehouse let alone half naked in my bed.

Henry’s hands, warm and exploring, roam over my back, causing a shiver to run down my spine. His blunt nails trail sensually, raking down my skin in a way that elicits a gasp from me. It’s a delightful mix of pleasure and surprise, encouraging him further. He seizes the opportunity, slipping his tongue past my parted lips, deepening the kiss. Our tongues dance together, an intricate and passionate tango, conveying desire and longing. The taste of him, mingled with the faintest hint of mint from his toothpaste, is intoxicating.

My hands, guiding by instinct and desire, find their way to his tousled hair, My fingers thread through the golden strands, and I revel in the sensation of the soft, silken locks between my fingertips. Our bodies press closer together, the heat and desire building between us like an irresistible force.

Suddenly, in a move that leaves me breathless, Henry flips us over, his body now hovering above mine. His lips trail down from my mouth to my neck, and I’m arching into his touch, granting him better access, a soft man escaping my lips. His hands find my hips, pressing them into the mattress to keep them still, a silent declaration of his intentions. His warm breath against my skin as he places tender kisses along the sensitive curve of my neck. Each kiss sends waves of pleasure radiating through my body, and I clutch the sheets beneath us, my heart pounding with anticipation and my dick jumps in my boxers.

Henry’s movements are deliberate, and his plump lips leave a trail of fire in their wake as they journey downward from my neck. Each kiss, every brush of his mouth against my skin, sends a surge of pleasure radiating through my body. As his lips continue their descent, I arch my back, offering more of my chest, and a soft sigh escapes my lips. His hands, still on my hips, hold me firmly in place when his thumbs dip under the waistband of my boxers. I can’t stop the whimper or the way my hips jerk when he grazes his teeth down my lower stomach.

“Now, now Darling,” Henry murmurs, voice a velvet whisper that washes over me like a soothing balm. It’s gentle and loving, a stark contrast to the passionate urgency of our actions. His words are tender, carrying an undertone of teasing and deep affection, “Be a good boy for me.”

“Fuuuckkkk,” I’m throwing my head back when he mouths over my almost painful erection, the thin layer of my boxers making me want to scream, “Hen, please.” I’m whining and he’s grinning up at me through those pretty eyelashes, eyes dark and wanting. He’s tugging my boxers down my thighs and discarding them somewhere to my left before he’s mouthing at my hips and inner thighs. Lips trailing across every bit of skin except where I want him… where I need him.

Then suddenly, his tongue is on my lower stomach, lapping at the precum leaking onto my bare skin from the teasing and it takes everything in me not to grab his hair and stop this teasing or he will just drag it out even more. I think I let out a strangled sound, too loud for these walls when Henry finally wraps those fantasy inducing lips around the head of my aching dick as he also shoves three fingers in my mouth to muffle the sounds. Obediently, I begin to suck on them, lathering them up with saliva while he teases his tongue over the frenulum and hollowing out his cheeks.

Before long his fingers are slipping from my lips and are circling my entrance, my whole body tensing in anticipation which has Henry pulling away, “Darling, you need to relax.”

He pushes a finger pass the tight ring of muscles at the same time swallowing me down whole, my body jerking with pain and pleasure. His free hand is rubbing soothing circles against my hip, trying to relax me enough for him to add another finger and loosen me up enough. His throat constricts, trying to gag around me and I have to throw a hand over my mouth as my older brother’s room is just next door.

Almost too soon he’s pulling away, drawing himself up and his azure eyes meet mine, a silent question there. I don’t reply, wrapping my legs around his waist and finally tangling my hands in his soft locks to drag him into an almost bruising kiss. Somewhere between him stripping me and now he’s rid himself of his boxers. His right hand caresses my cheek while his other moves to help guide himself in place, the tip pushing past the ring of muscles. I can’t help but tense up at the intrusion but then his lips are on mine, sweet and delicate, coaxing whimpers from me as he slowly pushes into me.

“It’s okay Darling,” He cooes against my lips, “That’s it Sweetheart, just breathe.” He finds my hands, intertwining our fingers as he begin to rock his hips, watching my face for my reaction. I can’t stop the wince, hips twitching as Henry tries to find a steady rhythm, his lips parted and eyes fluttering shut for a second, breath coming out in gasps as he seems to be holding himself back to not hurt me. The sight of him like this and stretch of him filling me oh so full has my dick twitching between us and his eyes fly open again. It’s a prickling sensation, somewhere between pain and pleasure and has me needing something more.

“Henry, please.” I don’t know what I’m asking for, clenching around his thick length and rocking my hips down to meet his, drawing out a low sound from him and his head falls against my shoulder.

“Darling,” He moans out, pushing back in quickly, hitting that bundle of nerves that has my hips jerking and him grinning into the crook of my neck. My hands scrabble for purchase when his grip my hips again, settling in his hair and raking down his back. It’s not just the physical connection with Henry as our bodies intertwine, it’s as if time itself slows down and we exist in a world of our own making. Every touch, every caress, carries the weight of emotions that can’t be expressed in words.

Every rock of his hips hits that bundle of nerves, and I can’t help rocking my hips up to meet his, my back arching into every movement. I’m sure I’m speaking, sounds leaving my throat as Henry picks up his pace, making me see stars.

“Kiss me.” I hear myself whine and Henry’s chest rumbles with a broken chuckle before his lips brush teasingly against mine. His hands grip my hips almost bruisingly, pulling my hips down to meet his harsh thrusts as that knot in my stomach begins to tighten. Low and guttural sounds rumble in his chest as out bodies shine with a thin layer of sweat, his blond locks sticking to his forehead, pale skin flushing as he makes love to me. Henry and I have had sex and made love before but this feels different, more intimate somehow as he whispers sweet nothings against my neck, nose nuzzling my jaw and lips soft and breath hot. The coil in my stomach tightening as he lets my hands go to wrap around me and pull me closer to him, my hands finding his hair and tugging his lips back to mine as a sound leaves his kiss swollen lips again. It’s all hot and heavy and sensual, full of love and passion and a promise of forever.

“Almost there Baby,” he’s murmuring and I think I’ve lost the ability to speak as all I can do is nod so fast I think I’m going to break my neck. I’m whimpering, my hands trying to fins purchase on his back, nails raking almost painfully down his smooth and muscular skin. One of his hands ghost down my chest and stomach to wrap around my throbbing erection, barely making one full jerk before that coil snaps and I’m crying his name with no care for how loud we are. My whole body convulses and shakes as my vision whites out and I’m clamping around him. He bites down on my bottom lip almost painfully as he comes, his seed filling me up. The aching pain of him pulsating inside me makes me almost come again, a new feeling that adds to the pleasure and I think I might pass out from the bliss of it all.

“Baby, hey, Y/N.” Henry’s murmurs to me and his thumbs soothing my cheeks gently, “There you ar pretty boy.” He peppers kisses all over my face, and I can't help but let out an almost embarrassing giggle, despite our passionate activities just moments ago. His hips are still moving in gentle circles of overstimulation against mine, but his focus now is solely on me, his affectionate touches like a soothing balm.

"BREAKFAST WHEN YOU TWO ARE DONE!" Alex pounds his fists on my door, making me jump, and I instinctively tense up, causing us both to wince. Henry carefully pulls out, his gaze never leaving mine.

”BE QUIETER NEXT TIME!" June’s voice rings through the door as well, and we exchange amused glances before bursting into quiet laughter.

"Breakfast?" Henry asks softly, his arms wrapping around me as he pulls me close, his warmth enveloping me in a cocoon of love.

I shake my head, my heart full of contentment. "Hell no."

With a loving smile, Henry leans in and captures my lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. It's a kiss that speaks of all the emotions we've shared, the love that binds us, and the intimacy that's brought us even closer.

As our lips part, Henry murmurs, "I love you, Y/N."

I smile back at him, my heart swelling with affection. "I love you too, Henry."

In each other's arms, we drift off to sleep, the world outside forgotten, and our love the only thing that matters. Wrapped in the warmth of our embrace, we know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, we have each other—a love that's deep, passionate, and unbreakable.I’ll deal with the outcome of Alex and June later but for now, it’s just me and Henry and that’s all I need.

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lagoonalake · 3 months

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NCT DREAM IDEAL TYPE

MARK

Personality: the sun, 6 of wands, the star

Boss energy. Someone confident and proud, spontaneous, connected to their inner child who would help him let lose a little. Someone a bit loud and cocky. Assertive, who would probably lead the relationship. Someone very visible, could be someone famous. Someone charismatic and funny, the life of the party. Someone who has a lot of energy and vitality. very optimistic and positive, who can see the light in the darkness always. Very generous and giving, could be a humanitarian. Bubbly, comic relief type of energy, a prankster. Very reliable and stable. leo, aquarius, aries, jupiter

Appearance: 2 of wands, king of wands, the hierophant

Someone who looks very strong and healthy, almost unbreakable. Someone regal, with a very shining and bright aura, could have narcissistic tendencies though! XD Muscular or fit, more of a stocky or compact body type. Thighs and calves are well shaped. Squarish face, solid features. Radiant. Warm colors. More of a traditional style or look. leo, taurus

Turn offs: strength, king of cups, 7 of swords

When the bossy energy gets out of control and the relationship becomes a power play, someone who doesn't take care of their health, someone unkempt, someone who is too restrained, controlled, who lacks spontaneity, someone too secretive, who uses their emotional depth to manipulate others, a coward, someone passive aggressive, a trickster, someone who is two faced. negative leo, capricorn, scorpio, gemini

RENJUN

Personality: the lovers, the devil, 5 of pentacles

Could be attracted to people who need help. Very sensitive, affectionate people, very passionate. Romantic people who understand that relationship are about sharing, that this is an exchange, who give as much as they receive. He is the kind of guy who wants to merge with his partner, so he attracts people who are like that too, who can be needy, possessive, clingy, but he can be clingy too. There is codependency in his relationships. There is a fear of abandonment coming from him and his partner, so they tend to get strongly attached but afraid to lose the other person, so there can be emotional manipulation as well. But the love is very deep, very strong, sometimes overwhelming. Us against the world type of love. cancer, scorpio, pisces, pluto, libra

Appearance: 3 of wands, 2 of wands, 8 of swords

Someone who looks both tough and vulnerable. He tends to go for people who look like they need help. But he also likes to see that the person is combative, is trying hard to rise above their issues. Someone who could be small in stature, but with a very strong body, muscular. Could prefer someone a bit skinny. Someone who could look a bit nervous, always in movements. Someone who looks like they could handle themselves in a fight, or outdoors, NOT the type who would be scared to break a toenail or mess up their hair and makeup XD A survivor. Short hair. Still who can look a bit fragile, shy, sensitive, youthful. aries, pisces, virgo, capricorn, scorpio

Turn offs: queen of wands, king of cups, knight of pentacles

Divas, people who think they are all that. Show offs. People who had it easy in life, spoiled people. People who use their connections to get ahead in life. People who are too calm, too comfortable, who seem to have everything and are happy about (he tends to be attracted to people who are a bit more complex). People who seem like they don’t need any help. taurus, leo, cancer

JENO

Personality: 5 of swords, the wheel of fortune, the hermit

He is attracted to an independent thinker with strong opinions, who doesn’t let anybody influence them. Someone who learned things on their own. Someone who could be a bit outside of the mold, have an alternative lifestyle, or simply like to spend a lot of time alone to read, educate themselves, focus on their own interests. Someone a bit philosophical. Definitely very cultured with a lot of knowledge. Very opinionated and could enjoy debates, could have a tendency to be contrarian, a bit rebellious. Someone adaptable, resourceful, open minded and who sees life as full of possibilities. Someone who enjoys change and need variety in their life. Someone who enjoys traveling. aquarius, sagittarius, virgo

Appearance: 6 of swords, 4 of swords, 9 of wands

He doesn’t have a specific type. He can be attracted to a lot of different people, and enjoys diversity. But he likes them sexy. Fierce, expressive eyes. And with a bit of a tough, intimidating. Street style. Colorful, warm. Someone who looks intelligent, vivacious, active. aries, gemini, mars, mercury

Turn offs: knight of pentacles, the hermit, 4 of pentacles

People who are very slow, stoic, who follow the same routine everyday, boring people. Although he likes the more closed off misfit type, he also doesn’t like some aspects of it when the person is too close off to the point they don’t want to see him anymore, someone who never allows any intimacy to happen, someone who is stingy, selfish, so focused on their stability they don’t allow for any change to happen, too structured, no spontaneity, people who never let their guard down, who are paranoid. capricorn, taurus, cancer

HAECHAN

Personality: 9 of swords, 10 of wands, justice

He tends to go for people who have a lot on their plate, with a lot of responsibility, worriers who are overworked, anxious, and who are hard on themselves, extremely serious, intelligent, fast-paced, hard-working and disciplined. He wants to lighten up these people and make them happy, because these people are very giving and dedicated, but they can also be the type who don’t get too much credit, who could work behind the scenes. He wants to be the ray of sunshine in their life, help them relax, let loose. He likes people who are humble and supportive, reliable, with a lot of integrity. People who are honest and polite. always ready to help. Secretary vibe. virgo, capricorn, gemini, saturn

Appearance: 7 of wands, the hanged man, 10 of swords

So if the person looks like they have a lot going on, he’s in. XD He likes someone who looks a bit tired, anxious, he can’t help but gravitate towards those people to comfort them, brighten their mood, make them laugh. Could like blond hair, or light hair color, feminine style, a bit dreamy, sleepy, soft type of beauty. Someone who looks a bit wounded (could even be physically wounded), he has a bit of a savior complex and wants he would want to assist or help in some way. pisces, neptune, virgo

Turn offs: 10 of swords, 8 of wands, 7 of pentacles

Although he likes the overwhelmed anxious and even a bit depressed type, he admires someone who holds on and keeps going no matter what. But he doesn’t like when a person doesn’t try, when someone is quick to give up, is passive, procrastinate, is lazy, let their emotions overwhelm them to the point they become completely numb, or is easily overwhelmed and makes impulsive decisions, runs away from their responsibilities. Sudden mood swings. negative pisces, sagittarius, uranus, gemini

JAEMIN

Personality: 3 of swords, 7 of cups, knight of wands, knight of pentacles, devil

(I pulled more cards because his reading needed clarification for me to understand)

Jaemin has a lot of options and likes to test them all. On one hand he wants to be with someone who is adventurous, feisty, fun, quick to move on. On the other hand he also wants to be in a relationship with someone who is more committed, and it would require more patience from him, more time to get to know that person. With the first type, he tends to be unsatisfied as it is fun but doesn’t give him that stability that he needs (but that he isn’t ready to offer himself anyway). And with the second type, he is afraid of commitment and runs away, breaking their heart in the process. There tends to be a lack of trust in his relationships, leading to manipulation, jealousy, either from him or his partners (especially the second type more interested in commitment). He needs to reconcile these different aspects of love within himself and find himself someone who can give him both the fun and the stability, and needs to be honest with his partners about what he wants and what he can currently give them. sagittarius, aries, gemini, aquarius/taurus, virgo, capricorn/libra

Appearance: ace of wands, page of cups, 2 of wands

A creative, artistic type. Someone who inspires him. Someone who looks dreamy, innocent, cute, cuddly. He needs to feel the passion and physical chemistry. Someone spontaneous, expressive, with a cute laugh, sunny vibes. But also someone who may be looking a bit shy, kind, more reserved. Could like it if he sees someone taking care of animals or children. Nice shapely legs and calves. Crop tops, abs or a cute tummy. Short hair. Small petite stature, short height. mercury, gemini, cancer, leo, pisces

Turn offs: ace of wands, 3 of cups, the emperor

Bossy people, people who are a bit rude and unfriendly, tactless, people who turn him down and friendzoned him, people who are too independent and see through his bs, people who come off as a bit too masculine, harsh. People who he feels no physical or sexual attraction with. aquarius, capricorn, aries

CHENLE

Personality: page of coins, the sun, queen of swords

He likes someone who is a ray of sunshine, very positive and kind, relaxed, with a fresh, innocent aura. Someone popular and loved by all, warm, friendly, compassionate, helpful. Yet when it comes to him, they can be a bit cold and closed off. For some reason, he could come off as untrustworthy to this person, or maybe this is the kind of person who has prejudices when it comes to him, or has heard rumors about him and doesn’t want to let him in. Maybe they are close to someone he has a beef with. Or maybe they are both from very different environments that don’t mesh well. I feel like this could be a specific person I’m picking up on. It could also be that he can come off as a bit of a bad boy, or a bad influence, or maybe he doesn’t know how to express his interest and comes accross as rude or disrespectful to that person. Good girl/bad boy type of dynamic libra, leo, pisces, virgo, aquarius

Appearance: 3 of cups, 4 of swords, the fool

This is probably the same person as above, a specific energy he is very interested in right now. Clean, friendly appearance. Kind, innocent face, long hair, slim shapely compact body type, petite frame, popular, has a lot of friends and is very well liked by colleagues but also the public, smiley, looks relaxed, charming, spontaneous, authentic, expressive. Very likable, disarming charm. Could be a good dancer. Most likely an idol. Radiant, warm skin and aura. Cute and sexy. pisces, virgo, libra, aquarius

Turn offs: 2 of wands, the fool, 8 of swords

Delusional people, people who are too easy to charm (he clearly likes the chase), people who are immature, naive, weak, cowardly, whiny people who don’t have their own opinions, wall flowers. People who are mean, unlikable, rude, always negative, selfish. People who are weird or unwilling to fit in, awkward, always killing the mood, different just to provoke others. negative cancer, scorpio, saturn, neptune, aquarius

JISUNG

Personality: judgement, 2 of cups, knight of swords

Someone who would make a big impression on him, a soulmate, karmic type of connection. Someone who would sweep him off his feet. A passionate, tumultuous, immediate connection. Someone who is a bit aggressive, impulsive, moves quickly, would express his feelings towards him or wouldn’t even be able to hide them as their emotions run so high. Someone who would understand him deeply, that he could share his deepest secrets with. He wants to start over with someone who would be 100% invested in the connection. Transformative, healing, intimate connection. Someone opinionated, witty, intelligent, quick to react, who can be blunt with words. Someone brave and dedicated to their path, with a strong sense of purpose. aries, gemini, scorpio, saggitarius, pluto, mars

Appearance: the world, 4 of swords, strength

He doesn’t care about looks, just that this person is strong and honest. That he can connect with them on all levels. He likes people from all over the world, and is not too attached to beauty standards.

Turn offs: 6 of swords, high priestess, 8 of wands

People who are quick to move on, a bit shallow, who don’t have long lasting emotions, people who are nosy and want to know everything about him but don’t share anything about them, overly secretive people, impulsivity, mood swings, people who change their minds all the time. People who can’t sit still. Unreliable, unstable people. Vague, overly “mystical” people. The type of spiritual people who have their head in the clouds, speak about “angels” and “auras” and things that for him are not real and a bit weird. XD negative scorpio, gemini, aquarius, sagittarius, neptune

#nct dream #nct dream tarot #nct dream ideal type #mark lee #haechan #jaemin #jeno #chenle #renjun #jisung #kpop #kpop tarot #kpop ideal type

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lick-me-lennon22 · 13 days

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How they'd react to an ordinary reader/reader who doesn't know them

(big thanks to anon for this request!! I tried my very best 💕 I hope this is what you were looking for ✨️ enjoy!)

John

John would be incredulous at first, wondering how on Earth you didn't realize who he is

it would take him a moment to recover from that blow to his ego

once he does, however, he realizes he's stumbled upon a golden opportunity to mess with you

he'd regale you with elaborate and nonsensical tales of his past - so outlandish, not even a child would believe a word he'd said

you'd be skeptical but play along, asking questions and feigning great curiosity about his (clearly made-up) backstory

John would come to admire your individuality and respect your rare ability to stay true to yourself

he'd enjoy challenging your thoughts and ideas, dropping by often to spark witty debates and intellectual discussions with you over a cuppa

Paul

Paul is surprisingly endeared to your ignorance of his fame, finding you charmingly aloof

he approaches you with curiosity and warmth, eager to learn more about your interests and passions

he finds he is able to relax a bit, no longer having to bear the weight of pressure fans' expectations place on him

he'd share with you stories from his own life, careful not to divulge anything too wild in his pursuit to find common ground

Paul quickly grows to appreciate your creativity and unique perspective

he often invites you to come down to the studio with him and be a test audience for new melodies/song ideas

sometimes he'll request songwriting critiques from you just so he can hear your voice as you speak your mind freely to him, gazing at you with a dreamy look in his eyes

George

upon realizing that you don't seem to recognize him, George breathes out a sigh of relief

to him, you're a breath of fresh air amidst the deafening crowds and bustling mobs of fans and press alike

he really resonates with your introspective nature and individuality, respecting your withdrawn lifestyle

over time, he begins to open up around you and abandon his shyness a bit

you're privy to a more talkative side of George, a rare sight and a far cry from his usual quiet and reserved demeanor

he takes great interest in your passions, asking questions to gain a better understanding of the inner workings of your mind

he listens to every song and reads every book to recommend to him, always one to broaden his horizons and look at things from a new perspective

Ringo

Ringo first approaches you with his trademark warmth and humor, radiating confidence and passion

eventually making the connection that you don't seem to recognize him, he feels himself growing shy

usually, his career is his go-to talking point

regardless, he does his best to entertain you by sharing anecdotes from his colorful life

though you suspect some exaggeration, you find yourself charmed by the man's embellished stories and are happy to lend an ear

Ringo would come to enjoy your refreshing take on life and want to accompany you everywhere, no matter the occasion

the two of you share many new experiences and adventures together, discovering more about yourselves and one another

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weirdmorefics · 17 days

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benedict with a younger sister who he catches at one of the parties he goes to talking to a man who has less than innocent intentions with her and she’s oblivious and just thought it would be a fun place to drink bcs that’s what she’d heard when was out at the park earlier that day

A/N- Sorry for it taking a while I really am starting to believe in the fanfiction curse. I also made up the seedy guy who had unhonorable intentions in this story just an FYI.

Readers Pronouns- She/Her

TW- Sexism

Word Count- 1,653

Summary- Benedict goes to a local gathering of artists and happens to find his darling younger sister enjoying the company of some of Benedict's unsavory friends.

Unhonorable Intentions

I am a rake. I take no shame in this fact. I am allowed to be a free spirit it is my birthright as the second-born son. No obligations no responsibility. I would loathe to be in Anthony's shoes. Though Y/n seems to have made it her mission for me to walk in his shoes tonight. What is she even doing in a place like this? Last I knew she preferred literature over the arts. Yet she hangs on a man's arm as he explains his next work. in progress that he is sure will be his Magnus opus. I glare at them hopefully sister notices my gaze burning into her side so I can continue my night as if nothing happened. However, when I glare at them I realize who the man she is talking to is and now I know there is no way I can continue my night. Unfortunately said man felt my gaze instead of Y/n and smiled and pulled her forcefully along with him.

"Bridgerton! It's grand to see you! We've missed you at the club!" Alexander shakes my hand roughly and I return it with an insincere smile. "Saw you eyeing my new muse, I regret to inform you I don't share." God, I want to gag as I know what he does with his so-called muses. Y/n smiles at being called his muse she does love it when I draw her but this man does not have honorable intentions. He and I have very different definitions of what a muse is. My idea of a muse is someone who inspires you to create, Alexander's idea of a muse is a woman to sleep with and then abandon.

I straighten back to assert my taller posture over the man, "And I regret to inform you your so-called muse is my darling baby sister." I look down at her with demanding eyes, "I do say it is time we get back to Mother. Isn't Y/n?"

She looks taken aback by my tone, "What do you mean? I just got here."

Alexanders' grin increases tenfold, "A Bridgeton! Benedict I had no idea you were hiding such a beauty to yourself! If I was her brother I'd never let her out of the house either." This man is truly revolting the artist community here is unfortunately very small and I have to find a way to remain civil.

Y/n smiles, "So you know Alexander? That's too bad really I was hoping to learn some different art techniques from him to impart to you! I had no idea you knew such a famous artist!"

I grit my teeth, "Famous now Alexander are we?"

This flusters him for a moment but he recovers quickly, "Aren't all artists famous in a different sort of way?"

I want to laugh at such an absurd response… sadly Y/n is far too naive for her own good.

"I agree wholeheartedly! Benedict is the most famous artist in our family! I'm quite jealous of his talent I must admit! It makes sense he would be at such a regal event filled with so much talent. To be truthful I overheard this soiree would have fabulous drinks on this morning's promenade and couldn't resist," she gushes over my talents and breaks my heart for not being more present in my siblings' lives.

Anthony just seemed to have it all handled, Daphne was married off, Eloise could certainly hold her own ground, Francessa was so busy with her studies, and Mother had Gregory and Hycanith under control. Even though Y/n is Eloise's twin she couldn't be any more different she believes the best in everyone and is too quick to forgive in my opinion and Alexander is taking advantage of that and I will not let that stand.

I smile down at Y/n, "Y/n you downplay your own talents no need to associate with a man whose talents consist of preying on women through false pretenses."

Her eyes widen to the size of quarters, "Benedict you can not make such outrageous claims!"

I pretend to not know exactly what she is talking about, "You mean your talents? Your poetry talent is outrageous and that's not a claim it's just a fact."

She blushes at the compliment but for some asinine reason still wants to defend Alexander. Though it seemed her brain could not keep up with the unusual compliment from me and the unflattering words I spoke about Alexander she just stuttered unintelligible anger, shock, and joy all marking her face. Alexander on the other hand was just fuming red.

"First you insult me Bridgerton then you demean poetry as a genre by encouraging a woman to write it." he snarls.

I have never seen Y/n turn so quickly and before anyone in the room knows what's happening a resounding slap is heard over all the chatter and everyone turns to the noise. Alexander's eye is twitching and a red welt in the shape of my sister's hand is forming on his face. He glares at her with murderous eyes but she holds her head high I have never seen her this determined and it makes me wonder what else I missed while she was growing up and I was galavanting around with men like Alexander.

She points an angry finger at him like Mother would when she would scold us, "Gentleman like yourself actually I wouldn't even call men like you gentleman but that's beside the point. Men like you say women are too emotional to do anything but care for the home. Poetry is all about emotion it's supposed to make you feel something like the art you make, or apparently don't make from what I just learned from Benedict's side comment. I would also like to remind you who is in charge of our country or rather what sex they are?"

All eyes are on us and Alexander looks like he might strangle Y/n with his two hands if the vein bulging out of his forehead is any indicator.

"Oh and by the way when I complimented your line work on your latest piece I was lying it was shit but you know how men can be so emotional I didn't want to hurt your feelings," she fake pouted. This is definitely not the young sister I once knew she may still be naive but she has now learned to use her talent with words as a knife.

Alexander's arm shoots to roughly grab her but I am quick to block, "I'm Alexander but we must be going. It was so nice talking to you as always. I would definitely take my dear sister's words under advisement to spend more time working on your line art." I then pull him very closely into my body and if anyone hadn't seen the previous incident they would have thought it was just two chaps hugging. I whisper, "Less time with lines of ladies and coke you might find yourself able to make straight lines. And if I ever hear you laid a hand on my sister I will kill you myself." I roughly release him and he scrambles backwards ungracefully as all eyes on him.

I link arms with Y/n, "Come on we must really be going now."

Once we make it outside away from prying eyes she quickly bursts into sobs, "Gods what have I done! I was just so angry he'd judge me just based on my sex. God, what if Lady Whistledown writes about me!" She starts pacing with her hands on her forehead and this is the Y/n I am all too familiar with, " Oh God what if Mama reads it! What if I ruin the Bridgerton name? Anthony will never forgive me!"

I clap and quickly gain her attention back, "You certainly won't be the first Bridgerton featured in Lady Whistledown and I am certain you will not be the last."

"Not helping!' She shouts back.

"No one will be mad you stood your ground… in fact, I am quite proud of you."

Her eyes study me, "Are you serious? I just slapped your friend in a soiree full of your peers."

"Anthony was more of an acquaintance," I add.

She rolls her eyes, "That is not the point!"

I sigh, "Yes, I am proud. You defended your honor and didn't need my help to do so. Though I am sure any of your brothers would be there in a heartbeat to defend it including me."

She smiles, "You're proud of me."

"I am not saying it again," I state.

she starts to repeat you're proud of me in a sing-songy voice.

"My pride in you is diminishing and my worry is growing. I think I will be around more often seems like Anthony isn't keeping a watchful enough eye on you if he let you go to a seedy event like this."

She tilts her head, "But you were at the event?"

"Exactly I only attend seedy events, though it appears now I must reform. Think of me has your second Anthony," maybe having responsibilities won't be so bad if I get to see Y/n chew out more men like Alexander.

She groans, "I don't want another Anthony how will I ever do anything fun."

"That's the point Y/n," I smile.

She groans, "I hope Lady Whistledown writes you into the story and makes you sound dreadful."

"As long as she writes how daring and smart my younger sister is we will be on good terms," I smile as she groans again at her failed attempt to get under my skin.

"Thank you, I guess," she responds.

I may be late in helping my siblings but at least they all still have some more growing to do and I plan to be there for all of it.

#bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x you #bridgerton request #bridgerton siblings #bridgerton!sister x reader #bridgerton!sister x y/n

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