Tumgik
#drawing her is a bit of a challenge though
rafecameronssl4t · 3 days
Text
Reminder || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: It was just harmless banter between you and another socialite, but rafe reminds again you what the diamond ring meant on your finger.
Warnings: angst, jealous/possesive rafe hehehehe
Word count: 2,160
A/n: guys guys guys it's getting hot in here.
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
Tumblr media
divider by @h-aewo
The gala is in full swing, the grand ballroom echoing with the hum of conversation and the soft clinking of champagne glasses. You stand next to Rafe, dressed to perfection in an elegant gown that draws more than a few eyes in your direction. Rafe's hand rests lightly on your waist, his touch possessive but distant—as it usually is during events like this—as you mingle with other high-society figures.
The night feels long, your polished smile tiring as you listen to half-hearted pleasantries from the guests surrounding you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Alexander Hawthorne making his way over, his smile wide and confident, his eyes locked on you. He’s known for his silver tongue and effortless charm, especially with married women. Tonight, his gaze feels particularly intent.
"Well, well, if it isn't the most beautiful woman in the room," Alexander says smoothly, his eyes lingering on you just a little too long. "You always manage to outshine everyone, don’t you?" You offer a playful smile, aware of Rafe's tightening grip on your waist. "Oh, you flatter me, Alexander," you reply lightly, not fully dismissing the compliment. "But I’m sure there are plenty of others here more deserving of your attention." Alexander chuckles, clearly pleased that you're playing along.
"I highly doubt that. No one else in this room could possibly compare." His eyes flicker briefly to Rafe, but he seems unfazed by his presence. "I was actually hoping to steal you away for a dance, if I may be so bold." You glance at Rafe from the corner of your eye. His jaw is clenched, his posture rigid, but he says nothing. The tension between you and him has been building over the past few weeks, and part of you enjoys testing his limits.
"A dance?" you echo, your tone teasing. "That sounds tempting." Rafe’s hand tightens even more on your waist, his irritation palpable. "I don’t think that’s a good idea," Rafe’s voice cuts through the playful banter, his tone sharp and controlled, though you can feel the storm brewing beneath the surface. His grip on your waist has gone from possessive to borderline painful, but you don’t flinch.
Instead, you tilt your head and glance up at him, your expression sweet yet defiant. "Oh? Why not, darling?" you ask, your voice dripping with mock innocence. "It’s just a harmless dance." Alexander, sensing the tension but relishing the drama, grins wider. "Come on, Rafe, it’s just a dance. Surely you trust your wife enough to let her have a bit of fun tonight?"
You notice Rafe’s jaw clench even tighter. He glares at Alexander, but the challenge is unspoken, simmering beneath the surface. You can feel Rafe’s jealousy in the way his body stiffens beside you, and for some reason, the idea of provoking him further feels oddly satisfying. "I don’t mind," you continue, turning your gaze back to Alexander.
"After all, it’s not every day a charming man asks me to dance." Rafe’s fingers dig into your side, and you suppress a wince, though your heart flutters at the possessiveness. "You’re not going anywhere," Rafe says, his voice dangerously low. His eyes lock on Alexander, who merely raises his brow in amusement.
"Rafe," you start, keeping your tone light though there’s an edge to it, "you’re being dramatic. It’s just one dance." But you know you’ve pushed him too far. The moment the words leave your lips, you feel Rafe's grip on your waist disappear, replaced by an icy tension that makes your breath catch. In one swift motion, Rafe steps forward, his broad shoulders blocking Alexander from your view entirely.
His stance is commanding, exuding an unmistakable fury, though his face remains composed—a deadly calm that’s somehow more terrifying than if he had exploded. "Back off, Hawthorne," Rafe snaps, his voice a cold, simmering threat. Each word is sharp, delivered with a quiet intensity that sends a chill through the air. "You don’t want to test me right now." If it wasn't Rafe height that loomed over him that intimidated him, it was the icy look in Rafe's eyes that did.
Alexander’s usual bravado falters, and though he holds up his hands in a gesture of nonchalance, the gleam in his eyes fades. If it wasn’t Rafe’s towering height that made him take a step back, it was the icy, penetrating look in Rafe’s eyes. Alexander hesitates, his playful smirk faltering, eyes flickering between you and Rafe.
"Alright, alright. Didn’t mean to step on any toes." He glances at you with a wink before adding, "But you can’t blame a man for trying, right?" Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver. His silence hangs heavy in the space between them, tension crackling like electricity. It’s clear that Alexander, for all his charm and wit, knows better than to push Rafe any further.
As soon as Alexander retreats, Rafe's shoulders remain stiff, his body radiating with tension. The darkness in his eyes lingers, the anger now fully redirected toward you. Without a word, his hand closes around your wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough to make it clear that this conversation isn’t over. He pulls you with him, weaving through the crowd and out of the grand ballroom, into the quieter, more secluded hallways of the estate.
The moment you’re alone, Rafe spins around to face you, his body towering over yours as he leans down, his breath warm and rapid against your ear. The fury in his gaze makes your stomach twist with both dread and excitement. "What the hell was that?" Rafe growls, his voice barely above a whisper but thick with anger. His grip on your wrist tightens just slightly as he looks down at you, eyes wild with accusation.
"Flirting with him right in front of me?" You lift your chin, meeting his gaze with a calmness you don’t quite feel. "It was just harmless fun, Rafe," you reply, though your voice lacks its usual conviction, "you’re the one who overreacted." "Harmless?" Rafe repeats, his voice growing even lower, his face so close now you can feel the heat of his hander.
"He was crossing the line, and frankly, so were you" Rafe steps closer, his body looming over you, his hand gripping your waist. "You think I didn’t see the way he was looking at you? Or how you were playing along?" You swallow, your heart beating faster at the intensity in his eyes. "Maybe I was," you admit, your voice steady but challenging. "Maybe I wanted to see how far I could push you. Like I said, it was harmless."
Rafe's grip on your waist tightens even further, his fingers pressing firmly into your side, the pressure bordering on painful. You let out a small groan, a sound that escapes involuntarily from the mix of discomfort and the charged intensity of the moment. The pain is sharp, a physical reminder of his anger and possessiveness, and you can’t help but shiver at the heat of his touch.
"I don't care if it was harmless," Rafe growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not playing those fucking games with me." Each word is punctuated with a barely restrained fury, his breath hot against your skin. You want to speak, to push back, but the fire in Rafe's eyes freezes you in place. The fierce protectiveness radiating from him mixes with his jealousy, overwhelming and intoxicating.
His hand moves from your waist to your hand, fingers brushing over the large diamond on your wedding ring. "Did you forget what this ring meant?" Rafe's voice is low, almost a growl, as he taps the diamond, each tap a reminder of the vow that binds you both. The possessiveness in his touch sends a shudder through you, your breath catching as his lips graze your ear once more.
You can feel the tension thick in the air between you, the hallway around you fading into insignificance as his words cut deep. "You’re mine," he whispers, his tone raw, dangerous, and resolute. "And I don’t share." Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of thrill and fear coursing through you at the intensity of his words. You glance down at the ring he’s tapping, a tangible symbol of everything that’s between you—love, control, obligation, desire. It’s suffocating, yet addictive.
You shiver as Rafe’s words linger in the air, thick with possessiveness. His grip on your wrist tightens, but it’s the way he looks at you that keeps you frozen in place—intense, unrelenting, a silent challenge burning in his eyes. You try to keep your composure, to push back against the overwhelming force of his jealousy. "Rafe," you say softly, your voice barely steady. "It was just a dance. It wouldn’t have meant anything."
"That’s not the fucking point," he snaps, his tone sharper now. He steps closer, his body pressing against yours, almost forcing you to look up at him. "You knew exactly what you were doing. I saw the way you looked at him—like you wanted me to react." You swallow hard, but you refuse to break eye contact. "Maybe I did," you admit, your voice low but challenging. "Maybe I wanted to see if you even care."
The words hang between you, and for a moment, Rafe’s expression shifts—his anger momentarily flickering into something else, something raw and vulnerable. But just as quickly, his walls slam back up, his face hardening again. He releases your wrist, but not before pulling you closer, his lips inches from yours, the tension crackling between you.
"Care?" he growls. "You think I don’t care when I’m right here, watching you entertain someone else? You’re mine, and I won’t let anyone forget it." You feel the possessiveness in his words like a pulse between you, and despite the storm raging inside him, there’s something about it that draws you in. His jealousy, his frustration—it’s all because of you, because deep down, beneath the cold exterior, he does care. You can feel it, even if he won’t admit it out loud.
Your voice softens, just enough to break through the tension. "I wasn’t trying to make you angry, Rafe." "You know that’s a lie," he murmurs, his eyes locked onto yours. His voice drops lower, and you can feel the intensity in his words. "But you succeeded. And I don’t like being tested." You glance down for a moment, trying to gather yourself, but when you look back up at him, your heart beats faster.
"Maybe I wanted to see if you still care. Lately… it feels like you’ve been distant." His jaw clenches at your confession, his eyes narrowing slightly. For a brief second, something softer flickers across his features—a trace of regret. But Rafe doesn’t back down, his hand still resting on your lower back, firm and possessive. "I’ve been busy," he mutters, but you know it’s not the full truth. You’re about to push him on it when he pulls you closer, his breath warm against your cheek.
"But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. You should know that by now." You let the silence stretch between you, your body pressed against his as you absorb his words. His anger, his frustration, all boil down to the same thing—he doesn’t want to lose you, not to someone like Alexander or anyone else. "You don’t have to act so cold all the time, you know," you whisper, your voice soft but daring.
Rafe’s lips curl slightly into a smirk, though his eyes remain serious. "You think I’m cold?" "Most of the time." You challenge him, your tone laced with honesty. His hand moves from your back to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Then I’ll remind you," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "how I feel about you."
Before you can respond, Rafe leans in and captures your lips with his, the kiss fierce and possessive, like he’s trying to prove something—to himself, to you. His hand tightens around you, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you, every inch of his body pressing against yours. The kiss is raw, full of unspoken frustration, but also something deeper—something neither of you are ready to name.
When he finally pulls back, his breathing heavy, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours. "Don’t ever doubt that you’re mine," he whispers, his voice ragged but full of conviction. Your breath comes in shallow, your heart racing from the intensity of it all. "And you’re mine," you murmur back, your fingers curling into his jacket, holding him close.
Rafe pulls you back into him, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Let’s get out of here. I’m done with this place." Without waiting for your response, he takes your hand and leads you out of the manor, his grip possessive, his pace quick. You follow silently, your heart racing, knowing that tonight’s encounter has stirred something deeper between you both—something raw and dangerous that neither of you can ignore any longer.
604 notes · View notes
whack-patty · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tryina figure this lady OUT
69 notes · View notes
moe-broey · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Miwabiwis.......
I actually do like her official outfit! I just... had a deep need.... put that girl in a nightgown and slippers RIGHT NOW‼️‼️‼️‼️ Also it is admittedly so much easier to draw 🧍
I did try to keep in line with most of her official look though! Or add more emphasis to little details, like the red berries... other details I added, like the bloomers, keep the roundness of her og dress! BUT ALSO.... they are just so cutes.... I imagine they're made of rose petals...... I was also thinking angelic motifs. With the dress shape, and the smaller wings shaped as such!
#fire emblem#feh#so much of this was just. trusting her color palette actually. like i feel there are just A Lot. of colors here.#some of which idk if the even should work together!!! in combination like this!!! red/pink! easy! pink/purple! easy!#pink/green! ONE OF MY FAVES. pink/blue? CLASSIC. pink w a rainbow gradient? THE CROWD GOES WILD I LOVE THAT SHIT#pastel pink/hot pink! YIPPEE!!!!! all together?? um. all? together? all of them? you said. all of them?????? hhngh. OKAYYY....#ADD A LITTLE PINK/YELLOW IN THERE. JUST FOR FUNSIES. FOR THE BIT. ALRIGHT!!!! WHY THE FUCK NOT!!!!!!!#trying to balance this w my own touches too. like the butterfly clips. they add SO much whimsy.#you can tear those from my cold dead hands. do they match the berries at the bottom of her hair....? um. well#idk i just think she's so cute she makes it work.#another challenging thing from a logistical level though was trying to get the shapes right...#like. turning down the business of the design. trying to draw the eyes to a focal point (which i think is the gown?)#then your eyes can parse out ooohh big fluffy hair and cute round bloomers peaking through. and wings!#LIKE... i think the sleek simple gown w just a bit of ruffliness at the bottom does help a lot#she feels. balanced. i hope LMFAOOO#either way this is how i'm going to draw her now and you can't stop me. if i'm going to be drawing a chara one million times#I NEED. TO MAKE IT EASY ON MYSELF. and fun! i am SO in love w her little nightgown it's INSANE... look at hwr.... 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺#mirabilis#my art
22 notes · View notes
sud-scribbles · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
nearing the end of my 100 mlp character wheel, and before i finish up i wanted to do another round of redos!
these are from a few different sets, and they're the ones where even when i originally posted them i thought i could do better. so i finally did!
Tumblr media
here are the originals!
Sunburst was originally part of Set 2, Rarity was in Set 4, Rainbow Dash and Ember were both in Set 5, and Doctor Whooves was from set 9!
for Sunburst and Rarity i was actually able to reuse my original sketches because i still thought they were solid, i just wasn't able to render them as well as i wanted to for whatever reason. i completely revamped the other three, and love where the new ones landed!
15 notes · View notes
mars-ipan · 2 months
Text
i do love my family very dearly but the internalized ableism the men in here struggle with is. so much
#marzi speaks#it’s worse with my brother but he’s doing more to actively work on improving that#my dad however has very subtle internalized ableism that i don’t think he recognizes is there#which is. fun#like earlier. either last night or this morning i don’t remember#i was talking to him about how while ideologically i have nothing against accepting needing help and things like that#in practice it’s very challenging to adjust to being disabled even temporarily. and that if i do end up with a diagnosis that’s gonna be#a lot to handle. both mentally and just with the lifestyle changes i’ll have to make#and he makes a bit of a face and goes ‘i wouldn’t quite call you disabled. i’d just say ‘ill’’#and i just sort of look at him. and i blink. and i go ‘i am physically Un-Able to do things i am normally able to do’#‘i can’t walk long distances at all. i can’t sit in chairs for too long without causing pain’#‘i’ve spent the last 24 hours staring longingly at my computer because i want to draw but am currently Not Able To’#he didn’t argue with me but i can tell he was still unnerved by the idea of picturing his daughter as disabled#also like . illness and disability are not mutually exclusive? several disabilities are or involve chronic illness#i shouldn’t be surprised though. i mentioned considering starting lexapro#and he went on his ‘you’re an adult and it’s your choice in the end but i wouldn’t recommend it’ spiel#(he’s anti-psychiatry bc he doesn’t like the idea of breaking the brain down into smth so purely physical)#(and also doesn’t like the idea of someone being dependent on pills their whole life)#(which i’m giving him some slack on rn bc he is a just-got-clean recovering opoid addict. so)#(btw before any of you say SHIT abt my dad he took his pills legally prescribed for chronic pain and did not abuse them)#(and even if he DID that would give nobody a right to make a moral judgement on him. ok cool)#i then reminded him that my mom takes anti-anxiety meds and they really really helped her#and he just goes ‘true.’ and moves on#king u got some shit to unpack#it’s fine if u didn’t want to start antidepressants when it was recommended to you meds aren’t for everyone#but like come on now. u don’t gotta be so fundamentally against it when literally ur own wife who you adore takes psych meds#anywho my mom handled me making the disability comment much better. she was basically just like ‘ur fear is totally understandable’#‘u have a good support system we’ll help you through it’#which. thanks mom 👍 that was very kind of her to say
2 notes · View notes
Note
Hi may I request Spotfur and her kits?
Tumblr media
Sure!
29 notes · View notes
shiftycatstudios · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
➢ So, how did you become a Grey Warden?
Same way you did. You drink some blood, you choke on it and pass out. You haven't forgotten already, have you?
➢ If you don't want to answer, then say so.
You're cute when you get all irritable, you know that? You get this little knot right between your--oh, never mind.
➢ Linktree
34 notes · View notes
animatingforfun · 5 months
Text
This was a pure joy to work on.
For the behind-the-scenes story of how I made this animated mini-short, click “keep reading” below.
I started this 6 weeks ago, just before Nintendo shut down its 3DS and WiiU servers. The server shutdown meant no more multi-player online play for 3DS games, like Mario Kart 7, but also no more uploading to the Butterfly Animation online gallery directly from the app.
As an homage to the Inchworm and Butterfly Animation apps for the DSi and 3DS that I’ve been animating on since 2011, I originally was just going to animate just a single shot featuring something butterfly related.
But the story evolved as I began asking myself a series of "what if" questions that I had fun answering, like, “what if it was a little girl playing dress up as a butterfly?” And then “what if she was first cosplaying as a caterpillar then the butterfly?” “If this is a story of growth, what if she stumbles? What is her attitude when she stumbles?” “What if the design of the girl was something like Isao Takahata or Yoichi Kotabe would draw?”
Making this was the embodiment of everything I hope to achieve with my personal animation: to let creativity flow and just have fun animating and creating.
Since this mini-short was animated on my Nintendo 3DS, there was a memory limit of only 100 drawings, which was a bit of a challenge for longer or complex actions, but was a fun puzzle to solve. Sometimes limitations force you to come up with even more creative solutions. (I was able the squeeze in more drawings than the memory allowed, and filled it to the max!) :)
The song I used is from Rebecca Sugar’s album, "Spiral Bound", and perfectly fit the theme of the short. Initially, while I was drawing the character, I found myself humming a tune from Steven Universe that dealt with beginnings, endings, and not being ready. It’s amazing how the brain can subconsciously pick the playlist!
In the end, that song, sung by Steven’s father in the show, didn’t quite fit, but then I remembered another song by Rebecca Sugar which was more on theme with my story, called “My Own Way to the End”. The whole album is wonderful! You can check it out here:
Painting the backgrounds for this was the most challenging thing for me, but also the most eye opening! After painting, I would look around at the trees in the neighborhood differently. So many colors when you really look closely.
There’s so many talented people at my work and it was great that I could ask them for advice. One person I asked was the talented Tia Kratter, who happened to teach a mini-painting class for the animators while I was working on this short. I asked her for advice on one of the background paintings and she asked great questions which challenged me to try different things, but I still felt like I was having fun and playing without fear of failure. I mean, it was still hard though! Hahaha!
If you’ve read up to this point, thank you for reading this. :) I hope you enjoy this mini-short as much as I enjoyed making it!
1K notes · View notes
kozachenko · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Finally decided to play around with my old lineless style again! Also figured out a way to draw Reimu that I actually really like!
Artist's Notes;
I've mentioned in a few earlier posts that I've been wanting to draw in my lineless style again for a while as a way to test what I've learnt from my previous style in regards to lighting. I did the face first and then for a while was thinking about doing a full body illustration of Reimu just to draw her outfit again. I'll talk about the face first since that's the first drawing I did in this batch.
For the longest time I really couldn't find a way to translate Reimu's face into my style. I was able to make her clothes work out well, just not really her face. I did like elements of how I drew her face a few other times, namely the tiny eyebrows and her pupils, but they didn't really feel like Reimu to me, or at least how I imagined her in my head. I then realized that it was less of a problem with the entire face and moreso the eyes, and it took me quite a bit of trial and error to make something that I was happy with. Also, as much as I thought the tiny eyebrows were cute, it didn't really make sense with her character. Like, from what I know about Japanese history, plucking your eyebrows was something that nobles (rich people) would do, and since Reimu is...neither of those things, I decided to just give her some thicker eyebrows instead (I will be saving the plucked eyebrows for another character though, so they will return). After I got to a face I was happy with, my next challenge was the hair. I did the front part first and liked that enough to continue, and then after more trial and error I realized that deep down I was a short-hair-Reimu-is-best-Reimu-truther this whole time because once I gave up on the long hair and gave her shorter hair something just clicked in my brain. And so, after drawing her outfit in again (this time without the yellow tie which is kinda sad but I'll find a way to incorperate it into future designs because it just was not making sense to me in context with the rest of the outfit) and finnicking around with the bow, I came to a version of Reimu's face that I actually liked. I thought that it made more sense for her character to have her cut it short, mainly because she's doing a bunch of Youkai extermination and she has to keep her hair out of her face somehow. I still wanted to make it kinda messy though, as Reimu is probably too lazy to clean it up herself. I think another reason I like it so much is because in Forbidden Scrollery, Moe Harukawa gave Reimu short hair and that really suited her, so I guess that was just a subconcious reason as to why I liked it so much. I also think that the shorter hair helps to separate her a lot from Marisa, as I think Marisa looks really good with longer hair. Speaking of, now I wanna do a drawing of her and Reimu together to really solidify how I draw them (unlike the previous version where it was just them standing). As much as I do like the face, I am concerned if she looks too much like how I drew Keiki now, but that might just be a product of the stylistic choices I made with her eyes and I might just be overthinking it. I am hyperaware of same face syndrome so that's probably the reason I'm so concerned about it lol.
Now for the fully body drawing. I was struggling to think of a good pose for her, so I just took a picture of myself and used that as a reference while still making slight adjustments for readability's sake. This is another case of, "I've looked at this too long and can spot every single issue with it" but this time I'm still happy with the final product mainly because this was a test drive for how I want to develop my lineless style in the future and for what it is I am more than pleased with the result. The main reason I deviated away from my lineless style was mainly because I was having a hard time with the lighting and making it interesting, and I am so glad that I've finally found a way to make it work! I'm especially happy with the clothes, as I think clothing folds are really fun to draw. I was somewhat inspired by the works of J.C. Lyendecker and the way he draws clothes, though admittedly it is not a one to one, since I mainly wanted to try implying the shading of the clothing folds with shapes (I do really want to do a study of his style one day as his art is incredible). So for the sleeves, I drew in a bunch of triangles where I wanted there to be a strong highlight, roughly coloured in the inside, and then blended them all so it looks like a more subtle. On both of these drawings, I also added in a noise filter to give it some texture (as that's what I used to often do with my drawings) and while I do like it, I might want to experiment with making it more subtle in the future, as it's pretty noticeable in both these drawings. Overall, I'm really happy with the lighting and colours of this drawing, and while I could nitpick several aspects of it (her hand holding the gohei looks too tense, I tried making her look like she was standing on the balls of her feet but the positioning of her Gohei's trail of papers ends up making it look weird, and I could've put more effort into the hair and bow and so many more things), this is more of a piece for me to experiment with my style again, and I'm excited for when I get a new idea for a piece, as I really wanna try some more stuff out with this style!
600 notes · View notes
reidsdimples · 21 days
Text
“He pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue.”
Paintings With His Tongue
Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader
18+ ❤️‍🔥MDNI ‼️
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Come on, just tell me what you’re thinking,” Reid smirks and tosses a ball of tissue paper at you.
You cross your legs and tug up your knee high socks. The carpet in his apartment is soft on your legs and you shake your head as you continue to wrap JJ’s baby shower gifts from the team.
You had gotten her a puzzle with the new baby’s name as the pieces ‘Michael’ it read. You thought it went so well with Henry,
“I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s a me issue,” you shake your head. You had bit your tongue on a risqué joke that could have been taken as a pass at him.
The truth was, you were extremely pent up. You dumped your abusive ex weeks ago when he bruised your eye. Even before then, your needs were not being met. But you have always had a thing for Dr.Reid and now being alone with him in his apartment… you were barley holding yourself together.
He moistened his plump lips with his tongue in frustration and sighed. The movements of his deft fingers as he wrapped a present caused you to squirm. How exactly the two of you got roped into present wrapping duty was still a mystery. Though you guessed Garcia was trying to finally push you two into each other like Barbie and Ken dolls. You smile to yourself.
“See? What was that- what are you thinking?” He calls you out.
“You may never know,” you flirt and snatch the tape from his grip.
He raises an eyebrow at you, those deep brown eyes pleading.
You stretch your legs out in front of you, placing your crossed feet on his lap. His eyes travel up to your short skirt which allows him a view of your creamy thighs. You swear he swallows hard.
“I was just thinking…” you start slowly. He leans forward attentively.
He rests one hand on your shin, his long fingers wrapping it completely.
“Thinking what?” The air charges and he separates your crossed legs only to lean forward and closes the distance between the two of you. Your heart hammers and you forget how to breathe.
“I…” you think he’s about to kiss you as he gets closer, forcing you to pull your knees to your chest to give him room as you lean back on your palms.
He snatches the other wrapping paper from behind you and moves back to sit. You inhale sharply and shake your head. Fuck.
He pushes his hair back from his face and you nearly fall apart. You know you need to do something about your neediness. He’s your coworker for fucks sake.
Then an idea pops into your head.
“You know what, we’re profilers. Why don’t YOU tell me what I’M thinking,” you challenge him.
He looks up at you through his messy long hair with the handle of the scissors in his mouth. His fingers quickly work to tape up the diaper bag for JJ.
“I don’t know if I…”
“You doubt your abilities Dr. Reid?” You sit up straight.
“I doubt you’ll like what I profile,” he reasons.
That makes you doubt he knows what you’re actually thinking.
“Try me,” you demand and stuff a bag full of tissue paper.
He narrows his eyes on you and loosens his tie. The dark cardigan was already tossed into the couch three presents ago and he begins rolling up his sleeves.
“You’re healing from your recent break up. You feel guilty that you miss him because he hurt you but you do. What you don’t quit understand is that you miss attention, not him. You deserve better but you don’t think so,” he pauses to sip his wine. You tilt your head.
“Is that it?” You jest.
“You knew you and I would be alone so you’re wearing something more revealing than you might have otherwise. You flip your hair over your shoulder to draw my attention to your neck. You lean back and allow me to see your thighs because you want me between them.”
Your mouth falls open at his words. But he doesn’t stop there.
“Not because you want me specifically but because you want that attention I mentioned before. Perhaps a distraction or…”
“No- that’s not true,” you cut him off.
“You’re wearing glasses, knee high socks, and a school girl style skirt because you perceive me as intellectually superior. You have a school girl and teacher fantasy you wish to act out.”
He leans forward between your legs again. He braces himself above you when you lean back on your elbows and he keeps talking.
“You’ve been trembling since you got here, you won’t stop biting your lip, and you keep squeezing your thighs together. You were about to make a joke that showed your hand but thought better of it because you fear rejection. You also don’t want to cross professional boundaries, and you can’t gauge where my interests lie.”
You’re dumbfounded, actually speechless as his breath fans across your face.
“Your inability to read my micro expressions leaves you feeling uncertain about the chemistry we have and I intended it to be that way. The truth is I want nothing for than to bury my face between your legs and make you scream my name until your throat is so sore that you remember it everytime you speak tomorrow,” he holds your gaze and you’re melting.
You feel your cunt pulsing with need and you want to squeeze your thighs together for some relief but you can’t because he’s kneeling between them.
“Please,” is all you can manager to whimper.
He grips you behind the knees and slides you forward so quickly you barely register it. You fall willingly onto your back with a soft huff and watch him meticulously roll your skirt up. His hair is messy and disheveled and he seems to be panting with need just like you are.
Wrapping paper crinkles beneath you but you don’t care when he leans down and begins kissing your thighs.
“Spencer,” you inhale in shock at his lips on your skin.
He continues to kiss your soft skin then starts nipping it gently. His fingers dig into the outside of your thighs, pinning them open. You never would have thought he’d be so… demanding?
He starts to kiss your pussy through your underwear and you writhe against him. The friction is heaven but the view of him there could send you both straight to hell. He moves one hand up to your hip to pin you down why he uses a thumb to rub your clit. He’s kissing your pussy gently and you know you’re soaked, you know he can feel it through the thin fabric.
Finally he rolls your panties down and out of the way. He looks up at you for consent ones more and dives in like he’s been waiting to his entire life.
It’s too much, it’s everything. His nose pushes against your clit, his tongue drags up between your folds, he comes back down to your interest and pushes his tongue into it into you mewl.
He’s moaning and he licks and laps at your cunt, slowly to savor it. He moans as he sucks your clit into his mouth and moves back down to your hole.
“Oh my god,” you cry and tighten your thighs around his head.
He sucks on your pussy and audibly devours you on his living room floor. He skillfully and artfully brings you to climax and before you know it you’re coming over and over again for him. You pant beneath him and whimper but he doesn’t stop.
He makes small whimpering noises of approval and eats you like a man starved. Your pussy quivers and responds to him as he continues to beckon more cum out of you. You swear his tongue must be painting a masterpiece or spelling every word in the English language.
“One more,” he pants from between your legs.
You roll your eyes back as the fourth orgasm siezes you. You can’t even try to tense your legs anymore, they’re jell-o. You’re shocked when the last orgasm is more squirting that your usual.
“I’m sorry!” You squeal but he laughs and dives back into you, his strong hands still gripping your hips. You cover your face in embarrassment, not ever having had more than one orgasm per sexual encounter.
Ones he fills himself on that last orgasm which left you red faced and embarrassed, Spencer sits up from between your legs. He’s on his knees looking down out you when he brings his shirt up to wipe his face.
You cover your eyes with your hands, utterly shy under his gaze.
“You are incredible,” he breathes.
“Me? You… you’re the one that did all the… that,” you stammer gesturing between the two of you. You sit back up and pull your skirt down.
“Mhmm,” he grins sinisterly at you.
You remain in awe that this man just did that to you. You crushed on him but you never imagined him to be so skilled, so dirty mouthed, and egotistic about his abilities. You glance down and see just how much he enjoyed himself, taken aback by the length of said enjoyment.
You lick your lips hungrily.
“For the record. It’s not about attention for me, I genuinely like you,” you assert and reach for his belt.
He raises his eyebrow in a ‘touché’ manner and crosses his hands behind his back as he watches you pull him free from his pants.
905 notes · View notes
marysfics · 15 days
Text
In the Silence of the Night
You’ve noticed that your girlfriend has been withdrawing a bit lately due to her busy work schedule. You really need her help with your medical injections, but you don’t want to add to her stress. You’ve tried doing it yourself, but it’s been more challenging than you thought it would be.
Angst, Needles, Fluff, Happy Ending
It was nearing 8 PM when you heard the front door finally creak open. You didn’t need to check to know it was Alexia. The sound of her duffel bag hitting the floor with a soft thud, followed by the weary sigh she let out, told you everything you needed to know. She’d had another long, draining day at the club, just like she had the day before… and the day before that.
You lifted your head slightly from where you were curled up on the couch, trying to suppress the flicker of hope that had bubbled in your chest all day. That small, irrational hope that maybe tonight she’d come in, smile, and ask how you were doing. Maybe she’d sit next to you, brush a kiss across your forehead, and offer to help with your injection like she always used to. But the moment was fleeting as soon as she stepped inside.
Without even looking your way, Alexia walked past the living room, her footsteps heavy as they disappeared down the hallway. "I’m just going to shower," she mumbled in your direction, the exhaustion dripping from her voice like water from a leaking tap. "I’ll be quick, I promise."
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You watched her disappear around the corner, the hum of the bathroom light flicking on soon after. And just like that, the bubble of anticipation burst, leaving nothing but a sinking weight in your stomach.
She didn’t ask how your day was. Not anymore.
Your gaze dropped to the small black case sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You stared at it for a moment, your throat tightening. The case held the injections—your injections—the ones you’d always relied on Alexia to help you with. It had become a kind of routine between the two of you, an unspoken pact of support and care. You hated needles, but when she was the one doing it, it didn’t seem so bad. You always felt safe when she was by your side.
But lately… things had changed. She had changed.
You bit your lip, drawing in a shaky breath. You understood that she was busy. You really did. Being captain came with more responsibilities, and there were new players to help, more training sessions to oversee, more late-night meetings, more everything. You could see how much it weighed on her. And you didn’t want to be another burden.
Still, it stung. It stung that, even when she was finally home, she seemed distant, distracted. It stung that she didn’t seem to notice how much you’d been struggling, even though the signs were all there, clear as day. She used to notice everything. Now, she barely noticed you at all.
I’ll talk to her tonight, you told yourself, trying to push back the rising tide of frustration and doubt. She’s just tired. It’s not her fault. She’ll listen.
But as the minutes passed and the steady hum of the shower continued to echo through the walls, the doubt began to creep in. The words you’d been rehearsing in your head all day started to feel inadequate, too small for the growing gap between you. What if she brushed it off again? What if she said she didn’t have time?
You pressed your hands into your lap, your fingers twisting together nervously. The thought of doing the injection on your own tonight filled you with a quiet, gnawing dread. You could do it. You should be able to do it, after all these years. But the idea of going through the familiar process without her there, without her steady hands and calming presence, made your chest feel tight.
You heard the water stop, the shower shutting off with a quick squeak of the faucet, and moments later, the sound of Alexia padding back down the hallway reached your ears. She didn’t stop this time either—just a quick, tired, "I’ll be in bed," tossed over her shoulder as she headed straight to the bedroom.
You sat there for a long time after she disappeared. Long enough for the apartment to fall into a deep silence, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. The case still sat on the table, staring back at you, waiting.
It wasn’t just the injection. It wasn’t just about the needle piercing your skin, or the act itself. It was what it represented. It was about the growing distance between the two of you, the way it felt like you were slipping further and further apart with each passing day. You didn’t want to feel like you were losing her, but you did. And what scared you most was the thought that she didn’t even realize it.
You rubbed your palms over your face, trying to shake the thoughts away. Maybe tomorrow would be different. Maybe, if you waited long enough, Alexia would come back out, sit beside you, and everything would go back to how it used to be. You could hear her voice in your head, soothing and gentle: I’m here, cariño. I’m always here.
But tonight, she wasn’t.
And that thought was enough to leave you sitting in silence, the weight of the injection case heavier than it had ever been.
You sat there for what felt like an eternity, the silence in the apartment growing heavier with each passing moment. Finally, with a resigned sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked toward the bedroom. The weight of the black case felt like an anchor dragging behind you, each step a reminder of the challenge ahead.
When you entered the bedroom, the dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over Alexia, who was already half-buried under the covers. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady, and for a moment, you hesitated. But the ache in your chest pushed you forward. You needed to talk to her. You needed her help.
You approached the bed slowly, the quiet creak of the floorboards the only sound in the otherwise still room. “Alexia,” you said softly, trying to sound as calm as possible. “Can we talk for a second?”
Alexia stirred, blinking sleepily as she turned toward you. She looked up, her expression a mix of confusion and fatigue. Without waiting for a full response, she leaned in and pressed a quick, tender kiss to your lips. The gesture was familiar and comforting, but it felt rushed, almost automatic.
“Sorry, cariño,” she murmured against your lips, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m so tired. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. The issue was complicated, and you were too weary to fight for your point. You tried to start again, but your voice was barely a murmur, lost amidst the tangled blankets and Alexia’s already retreating sleep.
“Um… I just—” You tried to say, but she had already turned her back slightly, clearly ready to drift off again. “I need your help with…”
But the words wouldn’t come. The term injection seemed to lodge itself in your throat, too difficult to utter. Instead, you stood there feeling small and overwhelmed, the conversation slipping through your fingers like sand.
You sighed deeply, retreating from the bed. The small black case on the coffee table in the living room seemed to mock you now. The thought of trying to manage it yourself filled you with a mix of determination and dread. You had no choice. You needed to handle this on your own.
Returning to the living room, you took a deep breath and retrieved the case. Your hands were trembling as you set it up, the familiar steps feeling foreign and daunting without Alexia’s calming presence. You tried to remember each part of the process, focusing intently as you prepared the syringe.
The first needle prick was sharp and uncomfortable. You winced, struggling to keep your hand steady. The injection was awkward, and you knew it wasn’t going in smoothly. The needle wobbled, and you felt a sharp sting that was far more intense than usual.
When you finally finished, you pulled the needle out, but the skin around the injection site felt sore and swollen. The sensation of an impending bruise began to settle in. You looked at the result, the slight redness and unevenness telling you that it hadn’t gone as smoothly as it should have.
You felt a surge of frustration and sadness. The injection was done, but it had left more than just a physical mark. The emotional weight of it all—trying to manage alone, the growing distance between you and Alexia, the unspoken words—was almost too much to bear.
Sitting down on the edge of the couch, you held your arm and looked around the room, feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness. You had managed to do it, but it was clear that things needed to change. You needed more than just a quick kiss and a promise to talk tomorrow. You needed to find a way to bridge the gap that had grown between you.
With a heavy heart and a painful bruise forming, you lay down on the couch, trying to push aside the frustration and hurt. As you stared at the ceiling, the quiet of the apartment felt like an echo of your inner turmoil. You were left alone with your thoughts, the ache of the day settling deep into your bones.
The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the curtains in a hazy, indifferent glow. You woke up to find Alexia already up and moving around the apartment, her movements quick and purposeful. It was clear she had another busy day ahead.
You stretched out beneath the covers, trying to muster the energy to join her. As she prepared to leave, you rolled over and reached out for her, hoping to get a few more moments of closeness. “Alexia,” you murmured, voice still heavy with sleep. “Can we—”
She turned to you, her eyes tired but focused. She gave you a faint, distracted smile. “I’m sorry, cariño, but I really need to get going. The team has an early meeting today.”
You tried to pull her closer, wanting to cuddle up to her before she left, but she gently but firmly stepped back. “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you later, okay?” Her tone was soft but final, and before you could say another word, she was out the door.
You watched her go, feeling a familiar pang of loneliness. It wasn’t that you were trying to be clingy; you just needed more connection, more reassurance. But it seemed like every attempt to bridge the gap was met with increasing distance.
As the day dragged on, you found yourself increasingly withdrawn. You tried to distract yourself with small tasks, but the weight of the previous night and the ongoing tension with Alexia hung over you like a dark cloud. By evening, the thought of going to bed early to escape the pain seemed like the best option.
However, the reminder of your injection brought you back to reality. The small black case sat on the coffee table, taunting you with its presence. You had hoped Alexia would be home in time to help you, but she had texted you a brief message around 7 PM—“Hey, still at the club. Things are running behind. I’ll be home late. Miss you.”
You stared at the screen, feeling a mixture of frustration and sadness. You missed her too, but the text felt impersonal compared to the support you really needed. You glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and you knew you couldn’t put off the injection any longer.
You tried to psych yourself up, determined to handle it alone this time. But as you fumbled with the needle and the syringe, the anxiety and discomfort from the previous attempt came rushing back. Your hands shook uncontrollably, and your attempts at administering the injection were clumsy and painful.
After several failed attempts and tears of frustration, you felt a growing sense of despair. You couldn’t do it. The pain was too much, and the thought of another bruise or worse was overwhelming. You sat on the couch, feeling defeated and helpless.
In a moment of desperation, you picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you found Alba’s number. Your fingers hovered over the screen, and then you pressed the call button. The phone rang, and as you listened to it ring, you felt a lump forming in your throat.
“Hello?” Alba’s voice answered, calm and soothing.
“It’s me,” you said, your voice trembling. “I—I need help. I can’t do it. I’m so sorry to call you, but—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Alba interrupted gently. “I’m on my way.”
When Alba arrived, she looked at you with a mix of worry and determination. You led her to the living room, where the black injection case was waiting on the coffee table. Her eyes fell on your bruised arm, and she winced.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with concern.
“I tried to do it myself,” you said, your voice trembling. “It didn’t go well. I know it’s not right, but Alexia’s been so busy, and I didn’t want to bother her.”
Alba nodded, her expression resolute. “Alright, let’s figure this out. I’ve never done this before, but we’ll get through it.”
You took a deep breath, trying to remember how Alexia used to do it. “Okay, so you need to… first, clean the area with an alcohol swab. And then you have to make sure the needle is ready, and…”
Your words came out in a rush, filled with a mix of anxiety and desperation. Alba listened carefully, trying to follow your instructions as best as she could. You could hear her taking deep breaths, her voice steady despite the situation.
“Alright, I’ve got the swab and the syringe,” Alba said, her tone more confident now. “Just talk me through the rest.”
As you guided her, you felt a mixture of relief and tension. Alba was doing her best to stay calm, but you could hear the slight tremor in her voice. It was evident she was nervous, but she was trying not to let it show.
“You’ve got this,” you said softly, trying to reassure both her and yourself. “Just remember to be gentle and to get it in quickly.”
Alba nodded, her hands steadying as she prepared the needle. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”
You guided her through the final steps, your heart racing with every movement. When she finally managed to complete the injection, you let out a shaky breath, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing.
As Alba finished the injection, you let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders slowly begin to ease. She gave you a reassuring smile before heading out, promising to check in later. You sank into the couch, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. Despite the relief from the injection, the emotional strain was heavy.
The weight of it all was too much. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and drifted off to sleep on the couch, hoping that tomorrow would bring some clarity and resolution.
A few hours later, the soft click of the front door woke you. You stirred, groggy and disoriented, as the familiar sound of Alexia’s footsteps filled the apartment. She must have come in quietly to avoid disturbing you. You squinted, struggling to sit up as she entered the living room.
Alexia paused when she saw you on the couch, her eyes immediately landing on the bruise on your arm. Her expression shifted from tiredness to concern as she approached you. “Hey,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep here.”
You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. “Yeah, it’s been a rough day.”
Alexia’s gaze flicked to the black case on the coffee table, the remnants of Alba’s visit still visible. It was then that a flicker of realization crossed her face. Her shoulders sagged slightly as she took in the situation—the injection kit, the bruise on your arm, the signs of distress etched into your features.
“Oh dios mio,” she murmured, her voice breaking with a mix of guilt and worry. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…”
Her hand reached out to gently touch your arm, and the softness of her touch was both comforting and heartbreaking. “I should have been here for you. I didn’t know it was this bad.”
You looked up at her, your eyes filled with a mix of relief and lingering hurt. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been so busy, and I thought… I thought I could manage on my own.”
Alexia shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “No, you shouldn’t have had to. I should have been paying attention. I should have been here.”
As the days passed, the efforts Alexia made to mend the rift between you were deeply moving. The grand gestures, the thoughtful surprises, and the sincere apologies helped to heal some of the wounds, but rebuilding trust was a journey that needed both time and patience.
You had forgiven her. The love you felt for her hadn't wavered; it was simply shadowed by the hurt of her absence and the loneliness you had felt. Forgiveness was a step forward, but you knew that true healing required more than just saying the words. It meant working together to rebuild the trust that had been fractured.
You began to talk openly about your feelings, your fears, and your needs. It was a new kind of dialogue for both of you, one that involved vulnerability and honesty. Alexia listened with an open heart, her understanding growing with each conversation. You both acknowledged that communication had faltered, but you were committed to changing that.
One evening, as you sat together on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, you found a moment of clarity. “Alexia,” you said softly, “I’ve forgiven you, but it’s going to take time to rebuild that trust. I need us to keep working on this, to communicate better and to be there for each other.”
Alexia nodded, her eyes filled with both sadness and determination. “I understand. I’m committed to working on this with you. I want to make things right, and I want us to be stronger than before.”
Her words were a balm to your wounded heart. The sincerity in her voice and the effort she was putting into making things right made a world of difference. You could see how much she wanted to be the partner you deserved, and that gave you hope for the future.
That night, as you lay in bed, Alexia held you close. The warmth of her embrace was a reminder of how much she cared, and it seemed to envelop you both in a cocoon of love and safety. You felt her breathing become uneven, and when you looked up, you saw tears glistening in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m so grateful that you still choose me, that you’re willing to work through this with me.”
Her tears fell softly onto your shoulder as she held you tightly, her emotion raw and genuine. You could feel the weight of her remorse and her overwhelming love. The sight of her crying, holding you with such deep gratitude, was both heartbreaking and reassuring.
“You’re my everything,” she continued, her voice cracking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you for giving us a chance, for choosing to be with me despite everything.”
You held her tightly, feeling her tears mix with your own. “We’ll get through this together,” you said softly, your voice filled with conviction. “I believe in us, and I believe in our future.”
In that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the pain of the past began to dissolve. The trust that needed rebuilding was a journey, but you both knew that with love, effort, and open communication, you could create a stronger, more resilient bond. Alexia’s overwhelming love and gratitude were a testament to the depth of her feelings, and it filled you with a renewed sense of hope and commitment for the days ahead.
520 notes · View notes
sm-baby · 9 months
Text
The Chosen One
Freakshow AU by: @hootbon
WHATS UP FREAKSHOWERS, SM-BABY HERE-
Banned myself from drawing for a bit but my creative juices were still screaming at me 😔 gonna also repost this on ao3 later when I set up the account
Word count: 6795
Freakshow AU Able with some indulgent Showtime teehee~ no beta, we die like Queenie HOOTBON DONT MIND HOW OUT OF CHARACTER THIS IS LOVE YOU GIRL MWAH MWAH MWAH MWHA
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Caine and his brother sometimes take bets during games.
There are also times when they get especially bored, and take the games up a notch.
They don't simply place their bets on a chosen human, no. Instead, the brothers figure out a set of games, choose their humans, and steal them away to mentor them. 
Caine’s punishments are especially harsh during these occasions. Although he usually kept a cheerful facade, he would be especially antsy, tap his feet, cross his arms, much less masked. It must sting to have the person you trained lose. Not only is it a bad choice of character, but it's also a bad reflection on you as a teacher. Inadequate. Unworthy. Pitied. 
Able himself was a special man. He never took these sorts of challenges seriously, but rather a bonding activity between him and his dear brother. Maybe because he hadn’t led the circus firsthand, rather, did the business side of things in the background. He never cared for the humans, and simply visits now and then. Caine would often be more strict during his visits. Telling the group in subtle ways to behave for an hour or so.
When he visited though, it was always a treat.
Gangle broke her mask? He supplied one that's—
“A little harder to break. “
Kinger was feeling especially antsy? 
“A 6 legged friend to keep you company!”
Ragatha, did you anger Caine?
“ I will speak to him." 
The group often preferred when Able was over as Caine would be distracted for a few hours-- even if they did have to behave. One would imagine the relief someone would have when Able chose them for a game and be whisked away from the dreaded halls covered from trap to trap. 
That day, the brothers chose a series of games based on the arts. As they stood in front of the number of players forcefully aligned like a character select screen, the brothers pondered their options. 
A series of games based on the arts… It's wisest to pick more of the artistically inclined members of the group, so not someone who specializes in strength or speed… perhaps Gangle or Ragatha or-
“You! At the very back."
It was almost like a death sentence the moment his digit pointed at their person. The group sighed in relief after silently begging, pleading, holding their breath that they would stay out of it, or at least have Able take care of them… but this time it was curious. 
The group stared curiously at Able’s chosen person, who was purposefully placed at the back. Enough to be considered “participating" but not enough to be a quick option. 
Pomni trembled, and just from the beckoning of his finger, she could feel her gravity to be pulled towards the blue ringmaster, the tip of her shoes dragged along the floor as an invisible squeeze engulfed her body. 
“N-No! No no!" Pomni gulped, trying to word a nice way to decline. “ Y-You don't want me! I’m-- not really.." 
Able beckoned her closer. " A ballerina is perfect for a game of art! Apologies if she was your chosen freak brother, but—"
Suddenly, a different kind of gravity pulled on Pomni’s body, in the exact opposite direction from Able. Silently, the older brother, Caine, was pulling the doll away in protest. Pomni was lucky the men were being civil, The opposite poles of gravity would be enough to rip her straight in the middle. 
Still, she grit her teeth while it felt like two children were fighting over a toy. 
“ Oh!" Able laughed. “ That’s cheating brother! I chose her first, maybe you should be more decisive next time you-”
“ No thank you!" Caine said, and Pomni suddenly felt a stronger pull towards him. 
Despite the calm/cheery tone of voice, Caine kept a spot of jealousy at the back of his mind. Usually, he would not care. But this was a special case. Pomni has not yet held a good impression on Able— mostly because she hasn't exactly met him one-on-one—And Caine was not about to let her… 
“ Nonsense!” Able said. Pomni felt a pull from the opposite direction, putting her back in the middle. She could feel her muscles tense from the pressure.
It was … strangely entertaining for the rest of the humans. “ Better her than me." One of them whispered. 
The brothers continued their quarrelling. Able continued." Oh dear brother, the purpose of our freaks is to perform! I don't see why this little thing wouldn't be able to have the same opportunity. “
" Our ballerina is off-limits! You can choose from any other assortment of freaks." A pull.
" She looks perfectly well to me! “ pull. 
“ I won't let you! “ A pull again.
“ Oh, I promise I'll take good care of her! " A pull again!
" No, I don't think so! “ a pull again! 
" You seem to be holding quite the issue with her being with me, brother, why is that?"
“ Because I want her."
Silence… 
The blue Brother stared. 
Caine didn't yell, he didn't speak any louder really, but it was a frustrated tone of voice, more aggressive than passive. Why, Able hasn't heard that kind of tone in a long time. His brother spoke like he was gritting his teeth… curious.
“ I..'' Pomni stammered. “ I think im gonna throw up… “
Quickly, Able let go of his pull, sending her flying towards Caine before being set gently on her knees to the ground. Her hands held to her mouth closing in any sort of vomit.
Pomni could sense reactions from her fellow freaks, snickering, whispers… Although Ragatha wanted to feel bad, even she could feel a sort of satisfaction from the display.
Still…the group couldn't help but figuratively roll their eyes.
Why is it always the new girl?
❄︎ ✌︎ ☹︎ 😐︎ 📬︎ 
Before they knew it, the brothers stared directly at each other… silent, expressions blank yet intense as the two seemed to have a form of communication they could not grasp. The room was as quiet as ever, but the group couldn't help but sense a dangerous amount of tension between the two.
“📬︎📬︎📬︎ 👍︎◆︎❒︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎♏︎♎︎ ♐︎♋︎❖︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎⬧︎📬︎”
“✋︎♐︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♍︎●︎♏︎♋︎❒︎●︎⍓︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎♏︎📬︎”
“⬥︎♒︎⍓︎✍︎ “
“💧︎♒︎♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎❒︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎📪︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♍︎♋︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ●︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♓︎⬧︎🙵 ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎📬︎”
“📬︎📬︎📬︎👎︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♏︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎✍︎”
“✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎📬︎”
Pomni stood up from her form, walking back to her fellow freaks, hand rubbing her arms, looking down-- she stared at the brothers for a moment like everyone else did, not only did she sense how eerie the sight was, but she also couldn't help but feel a strange form of self-blame for the situation. Pomni, what the hell did you do this time? 
“ Oh." Jax wheezed. " If I were you, I’d kill myself. “
" Ragatha said to shut up." Kinger piped in, and Jax turned to Ragatha already on her way to write down a string of text. 
" What! Tell me Im wrong, dollface. “
Ragatha rolled her eyes before turning to Pomni, slumping her shoulders and bending her knees to give her a note. “Caine said you were ‘off limits’. So I think you're safe for now at least." 
" And… what does it mean if Im… not off limits?” Pomni stammered.
Ragatha stayed quiet and turned to Kinger, not needing to sign her next words.
“ Then you'll be just like the rest of us. “
“⚐︎♒︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♌︎♋︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ❍︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎⍓︎❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎✏︎”
“❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎◆︎♎︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ◻︎❒︎♓︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎♍︎□︎◆︎❒︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎⬧︎ □︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎●︎♏︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ “
“☟︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♑︎□︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎⍓︎✍︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♋︎♓︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ॐ︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♍︎♏︎◻︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎✍︎”
“⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ □︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎✍︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ॐ︎♏︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📬︎”
“☹︎♏︎⧫︎ ❍︎♏︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎□︎●︎●︎📬︎”
“■︎□︎📬︎ “
The brothers looked distracted. Jax was first to try and see if he could escape the situation, but he was interrupted when Caine pointed his finger at him, forcefully grabbed him by his neck, and set him back to his original position. His eyes never left his brother’s yet they were still all too aware of their surroundings. 
Pomni swallowed…Off limits ...Off limits he says. She knows she should be safe. And so, Pomni took a breath and exhaled.
She’ll be fine. 
She'll be fine.
She's fine. 
Shes—
“ Fine." The sound of a cane tapped on the floor, almost spiteful. " You can use her.”
What!?
" What!? “
The rest of the freaks felt their hair stand up again. Although Caine kept his calm tone of voice, that didn't reassure the others all that much. That kind of quiet anger was familiar. Caine being convinced to change his mind was not something that often happened. 
When all was said and all was done, Ragatha sighed, and turned back to Pomni, finishing off a note she's been writing. “Don't worry. Able is much more pleasant to be around. You're in safe hands. “
“ I sure hope so. His hands are very big!" Kinger piped up. 
Pomni was practically shaking in her heeled boots, the wood of her skin making clicking sounds as she did. Pomni doesn't exactly trust the situation at all, let alone the brothers, and to be alone with someone related to Caine didn't sound the most safe. 
Ragatha frowned seeing she was not convinced, and went back to writing. “ If It makes you feel any better, I feel a lot worse for Gangle than I am for you. “
They turn to Gangle, whose tragedy mask was on the floor weeping and in tears upon being chosen by Caine, while her happier counterpart horrendously verbally abused her from above.
For a moment Pomni laughed from the humor, despite the terrible context… but it was quickly interrupted by a gasp as she was suspended from the ground again and closer to the head of cards.
“ Hello, doll. Last chance to say goodbye to your friends! " Able said in an almost sing-songy voice.
Pomni, in fact, did not say goodbye, rather just stood there, like a plank of wood, frozen in fear. She gulped.
Able continued. “ ...Or stand in silence. That's okay too." The humans stared at the two as they went higher in the air. Able waved with all four fingers. “ We'll be off! Thank you for your company." 
Caine was silent. But Pomni swore she could feel his eyes tracking her as she disappeared. 
Snap!
Blip! 
Pomni gasped as if her head had been forced underwater for the past 6 hours.
She would open her eyes, wide, before turning them in confusion. Her gasps followed suit as they lessened.
“ Huh!?… Where-… What!? “
She didn't know what she was expecting but it was certainly not this. Pomni woke up in a bed much more luxurious than what she was used to, and a room much bigger than the one at the circus. The room was rather well-kept. Clean. A standard good but a comfortable one. 
Whatever injuries Pomni had back in the freakshow were no longer there, little scratches or dents, dusts in certain crevices… disappeared. Almost like she had just been born yesterday.
Pomni climbed off the bed which was-- admitted a little too tall for her, and went to search around.
*(A closet made of fine wood)
> Check
Upon sliding the closet door open, Pomni would see… an assortment of clothing… but not just any clothing. A set of six mannequins shaped like the other performers lined up… 
Pomni would see the one for Ragatha with an eye patch as well as a note…
 “ *Greetings, Ragdoll! I recall you saying it bothered you to have two eyes again. I cannot change your form, but I hope this will suffice.   -Able AI “ +2 armor
Kinger had a robe on his mannequin. “ * Clothing fit for a king… and to keep you warm.    - Able AI “ +8 armor
Zooble had knuckles on theirs. “ * If you ask me, you certainly don't need this. And no, you cannot bring it back home to use it on your rabbit friend.    - Able AI “ +6 Attack
And plenty more! Pomni supposed she wasn't the first one to come here… that explains the scratches on the door. 
*(Take items?)
   > Yes
   > No
   > Yes
*(Trick question! Those aren't for you, silly!)
Pomni would turn her head to the corner of the closet, the mannequin right next to Zooble, the last member who came before her.
The mannequin for her was seemingly empty until she looked down… hers were ballet shoes. White with golden balls in the middle. The note reads: “ *Salutations, Pomni.  I've heard all about you from the Audience but I haven't met you myself. I hope we can be comfortable in each other's company. My brother seems pleased with your performance.    -Able AI“ +5 speed
*(Equip Ballet Shoes?)
    > Yes
    > No
    > Yes
*(Equipped Ballet shoes! Your speed has increased.)
Pomni opened the door and peeked her head out first. The hallway was quiet… but the decor was noticeably a lot more Victorian… 
Huh. Pomni suspects that this would feel right at home for the brothers.
Anyways, this freaked her out.
Pomni walked down the halls with knees faced with each other. This was a new area in the game that she didn't know about— her eyes scanned every corner, a misplaced brick, levers she dared not switch, she didn't know where the traps were in this area.
A hallway of doors… She wonders… is it possible that this place could hold on exit from the game? 
She opened one and read the sign… “ Caine AI's first attempt on room generation.", and it was… contrasting. It was colorful. Low polygon, looks like a room more fit for an early PC desktop game… 
…Caine? Caine made that? No shot. She feels like if she asked him, her limbs would be used for the next chimney fire. 
Music rang in her ears. Pomni would recall that, around Caine, she would hear the motif and sounds of an organ and a violin… but here, in his brother’s world… It was only a violin… Pomni followed the sound, and it got louder and louder as she approached the door at the end of the hallway.
Click!
Pomni would meet an old Victorian living room. Warm fire with a warm chair next to it… but what would catch Pomni’s attention was the head of cards playing his violin, dancing along to the tune, turned to an empty organ as if he played one half of a duet. 
He hadn't even paused, simply looked at her as he continued to play. “ Slept well, doll? “
“ Uhh-" 
“Good. I don't believe we've met. You may call me Able. “
" U-Uhm my name is-”
" I don't care. “ a harsh sound on the violin before Able placed it down on a stand right next to the organ. “I see you've found your shoes. Hopefully, it'll help you for tonight’s festivities."
" T-Tonight's festivities? Sorry, I-Im… new to this kind of thing? “
“ The games, ofcourse.” Able clasped his hands together and floated towards Pomni, “ I used to tend to these sorts of events with my brother, so I'm fairly familiar… consider this like old times.”
Pomni frowned, looking away. Able wasn't as nice as how the others described him to be. At the very least he wasn't torturing her yet, which…she supposed… was a step up from when she first met Caine… 
“ You must be hungry."
“ I haven't been hungry since-" 
Snap!
Swirls replaced her irises. She put her hand out for balance and the first thing she felt was the fabric of a tablecloth. She would blink and snap out of her haze to realize that she was sitting at the opposite end of a long dining table. 
Able sat on the other end, hands under his chin as he observed the new guest. 
“U-uh… '' Pomni would look at him before her eyes trailed down, and would notice a digital feast on the table before her. '' O-Oh Im not… really.. hung… " 
Pomni had a double take.
The food looked… Strangely realistic.
Ever since she arrived at the Digital Circus, Pomni had only the very limited polygonal sort of food, either prepared by their head bubble chef, or a cruel sort of joke from Caine to eat other members.
But this… 
Her stare continued to widen. She didn't realise it but her eyes watered. She hasn't seen this kind of food since… 
Able watched her pick at the chicken with her gloved fingers. The way she pulled back and flicked her wrist when she realized that the food had temperature built into it— it must have hurt, but somehow that made it more desirable for her.
Improper.
Able continued to stare as she practically scarfed down her meal… he couldn't help but roll his eyes while she wasn't looking.  The others weren’t any different, but he expected better from someone his brother would fight him over… Able has known Caine for the longest time and he knows his overall taste is different from his. But this? This was the thing he was protecting? …He felt rather insulted honestly!
“ Do you still eat in the circus?"
“ Hm?" Pomni muffled a reply, a face and hand stuffed with all sorts of meat and delectables.
Able blinked, hiding his disgust.
The doll furrowed her brows in realization, as dread quickly hit her… oh god… she was told to behave around Able… oh dear fuck… oh fuck oh god… what is he gonna do to her? Did she fuck this up?
Oh god oh fuck.
Oh dear oh god fuck shit holy fuck oh my fuck shit ass bitch cunt fuck-
“ J... Just finish chewing."
“COOL." 
Pomni swallowed and continued to eat, now with a little more manners. Able sat ahead, his focus a little off from her, thinking to himself. Now what was he pondering? A way to murder her, she’s sure. 
*(Able sits at the opposite of you)
     > Talk
     > Say nothing
     >Talk
*(Talk about…)
     > Place
     > Food
     > Festivities
     > Caine
     > Nothing, Nevermind
     > Place
“W…Where.. Am I?”
Able turned back to Pomni as if he’d snapped out of his thoughts. “ You’re in the testing facility. This is where Caine and I used to pretest code and projects before using them for the circus. It used to be a lot more abstract and plain. But over time it changed due to… uhm..” Able’s brows furrowed “... I don’t know exactly. It just did…. We never questioned it.”
Able shrugged. “It's smaller than it looks. For example, my brother and I don’t have bedrooms. The dining table wasn’t made until recently. Unlike you and your friends, my brother and I are much more low maintenance.”
*(Talk about…)
     > Food
     > Festivities
     > Caine
     > Nothing, Nevermind
    > Food
“ How did you .. what…?”
“My programming is a little more advanced than my brother’s. I’ve mastered texturing, modelling, character effects… and plenty more. I played a hand in why you bleed, why you have working skeletons, or how organs can spill out of your body. My brother can make his food, but it’s a little more basic… I don’t blame him. He is maintaining an entire Circus after all. Sometimes his cooking is even edible!”
 *(Talk about…)
     > Festivities
     > Caine
     > Nothing, Nevermind
     > Caine
“ Uhm... You and Caine… You’re brothers?”
Able Chuckled. “ Believe it or not, Caine is the older brother of us two. I was created to perfect his imperfections, though that sadly made it so I was given more of the credit. ” Able paused and turned his head to the side. “ … Rarely does he visit the facility anymore. What I would do to play a song with him again.” he chuckled. “ But I suppose being a nuisance to him is just as fun!”
*(Talk about…)
     > Festivities
     > Nothing, Nevermind
     > Festivities
“ I think you chose the wrong person here for that kind of theme…” Pomni said nervously, wiping away the remaining food from her lips. “ I’m… not exactly an artsy kind of person, I’m more into-- maths?”
“ Art is a very broad term. I’m more familiar with the classical, meaningful, way of art, while my brother sees art in a sort of entertainment kind of sense. It only makes sense that he chose Gangle. I heard she can be quite the artist.” Able found himself rambling. It seems the brothers seemed to have a thing for creativity. Creative AIs, Pomni supposed. “ -- Which is why I chose you, doll,”
Pomni flinched when Able pointed his digit at her.
“A ballerina with a way of dance. You seem to be around my likeness… My brother likes your work and I… trust his judgement.” 
“ Uh, haha... “ Pomni laughed nervously. She hadn’t cared about her performance in the artistic sense in all honesty. It was more of a survival mechanism. If it's good enough to please The Audience, It was good enough for her. Nothing behind it at all. “Thanks, I guess…”
“ How about you? What are your thoughts on my brother?”
Pomni took a breath in her mind. Pomni has nothing but bad experiences with Caine. Pomni has had nothing but bad experiences in the Circus in general, but admittedly, Caine was the one who manifested it all.
…But she doesn’t exactly think Able would be pleased to hear gossip about his brother. 
“ Caine’s fine. He’s… nice, uh…” Pomni bit her lip. Wow, there really is nothing good she can say about Caine huh? 
She would stop it there, but the eye squint and the small head turn from the usually unemotive brother sent her into a sort of panic…
“ He’s a good ringleader! Doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s really good at, uh… keeping us disciplined and in check?” if someone could hear inner monologue they would go deaf.  The look in his eyes-- what does he want her to say?? 
Pomni would look up to see if her answers satisfied the blue brother’s curiosity. And in her horror, it seemed that it didn’t. He furrowed his brows and Pomni would hear the sharp note from a violin.
“ I suppose I should word myself better…” 
Able put his hands on the table and stood up, making himself feel bigger compared to Pomni’s slouching form. 
“ What. Is your relationship. With. My. Brother.” His eyes stared at her, wider than ever as the eeriest and deafening sound of an angry violin stung her ears!
“ I -” Pomni flinched!
“ You. You specifically.”
The way the strings pierced her hearing was violating! Pomni felt like the legs of the dining chair were getting longer and longer. If she got off she’s afraid she’d fall to her death! 
Able stared at the little, pathetic thing under him. This can’t be it is it? She was ever so small in comparison, he felt like he could just reach over and crush her to death. This?? This is what he was losing to?? This is what his relationship was worth?! His eyes were as fixated as ever. He watched as she held her head down, her ears, he laid clueless to how loud his presence was when she was positive that her head was just about to explode…
“ t--’ ah!” Pomni covered her ears. At that point, she was bringing her knees to her chest like a turtle taking shelter in her shell!
Look at her! Whimpering simply being in his presence! Her lifespan could only last for however long the audience wants her but he’s been created since the beginning! She was less than them! She was less than him! Caine and Able have been completing each other for the longest of time, and he was losing to THIS?!
He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he couldn’t believe how pathetic she was. The way she cried and cowered, At the very least his brother deserves better!
“ He’s just our ringmaster, I promise!” Pomni gasped as the ringing forced itself into her ears. “  I-If you want the full answer-- Im new! I’m new here! I don't know Caine as much as the rest do! I d-don’t even see him often-- he just prepares us for shows! I-- ”
He doesn’t know what took over him to have such emotions. The real Able was known to be the calm and collected one of the brothers, ‘the better brother’. He will say that he didn't mean to lash out, but he would be lying if he said he didn't mean every word. 
And as quickly as it came, the storm ended, and the tune that played in Pomni’s head left in a repeating fade… she breathes, small panicked breaths as her headache calmed down. 
Able sat down, back leaned to the chair, knuckles on his would-be cheek, and his other hand beckoning her to keep talking. “... And?" 
" A-And uhm—!” Pomni kept her head up to talk like her life depended on it." He- He… when.. when my routines get repetitive he would help me d-..do different ones… He plays the organ sometimes too and is-is really good at it! “
Able look at her, still with a face of disbelief…  at this point he was almost over it… 
Was that really it? 
Able sighed and sat back. Sometimes he overestimates his brother's taste. Perhaps he's much more simple-minded than he thought. For all he knows he just liked her because… 
Because… 
Oh heavens how embarrassing. 
He liked her like a pet…Of course he did. And he was treating her like a pet as well! Look at how clean she was compared to the other performers!
Able put a hand on his face… he really just lost his temper to what was equivalent to a dog… 
As Able was once again thinking of himself, he was a little blind to Pomni still trying to calm down in her chair… 
The doll didn't know what to think. Able was definitely not as kind as her friends lead her to believe. She was correct in the worst way possible. In fact she would flinch at the sight of him. 
“... Are you okay?"
Silence from Pomni. And before she knew it he stood up from his seat again and approached her, walking to her side of the table and offering a piece of cloth to help her collect herself. 
“Apologies. I didn't mean to lash out like that. It wasn't my place."
As Pomni used the cloth on her person, there was a part of her that somehow knew that apology wasn't exactly the most meaningful. Pomni may not be good at showing it, but the woman was a lot more observant than she'd like to admit. “... Its okay… “
“ Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
“ W-When can I… leave?" 
… that was rude, Able can admit. But he supposes it was fair. It took all of him to not roll his eyes at her. Before he continued to speak he returned his nurturing tone of voice: “ You may leave when we're prepared to tackle tonight. If it makes you feel better, you may have some time to gather in your room to prepare. “
“ Excuse me." As soon as the offer was given, Pomni got up from the table a little too suddenly than what was normal. Without even saying goodbye, Pomni walked off, and back to the hallway towards her door.
The moment she was gone, Able scowled and sighed. What kind of person taught her manners? He sat back down and stared at the plates of food she managed to scarf down in such a short amount of time… 
he put his hand on his face… Oh he really let his ego get the best of him because of some pet…he upset his brother's toy the first time they met… he had to make up for it. Maybe not for her but for his brother’s comfort, though, he doubts he'd really care. 
For the rest of the evening, Able spoke softly, respected boundaries and acted to be the most patient mentor for Pomni. He let her use his violin, insisted on food and breaks, and apologised at every step of the way for their terrible first impression. Pomni would only answer with a quick “it's okay" in response, which bothered Able to not be reciprocated… 
Pomni’s hypervigilance wasn't unfounded however. She knew Able was playing nice, the way she searched for a reaction for every apology, the way he was being just a little too affectionate, the love bombing… Able wasn't being honest with his intentions and so she wouldn't be honest about herself. 
Pomni felt a little better to say no to him at least…in fact, she would almost take the opportunity to use him to get more information. On breaks, Able would allow Pomni to walk around the Manor, exploring each room… it was a testing area… there's bound to be something… 
“There are no traps."
Pomni sighed.
" I think.”
" You think??”
" Some strings of code can be a little unstable. We didn't think to safety-proof anything since, well, we cannot die, and you were not meant to die. “
Great.. 
And Able wasn't lying. A lot of the doors were prank-boxing glove punches to the face, one was of a spinning carousel, and one was the bathroom of a very clean mannequin. Pomni almost lost her life with on the last one.
But it seems doors further away looked a lot more… abstract in the most literal sense. Polygons, shapes, colourful pieces… presumably one of the oldest doors there. 
she would read the signs 
“ Concept Layouts for The Grounds #2 
          || Note: consider more coloring options for the tent.    -Able AI”
“ Moon.AI Beta 
         ||Note: Im unsure with whats wrong with her, I desperately need assistance.    -Caine AI”
" The VOID (Do not enter)”
The sign didn't stop her. The moment she opened the door, she became mesmerised by the sea of pixels, eyes shaken yet still. She stood there frozen at the doorway hand on the knob unable to pry her eyes away…
Her heart was just about to leave her chest, as the strongest urge to step forward ingulfed her body. for all she knows she would be staring for forever. Into oblivion. With all her built up insanity, it feels like Pomni was staring at her death a million times over. 
Slam!
“ Digital World Etiquette! Read the sign! Hasn't Caine told you not to enter the void?" 
It took her a moment to snap out, but with a few blinks, she was right back. " Uhh.. yeah, yeah, he did uh— it's just… it's the closest I've ever gotten out of here. “
“ Out of here?"
“ Y… you know… an exit? Is there really no exit around here?" 
" Hm… “ Able scratched the bottom of his cards. “ My brother tried. He really did try. But there is only so much a string of code can do in a digital plain, even if we are quite brilliant at what we do. “
“ He tried?" 
" Oh, yes. I don't remember why he did… but he did. It is all too fuzzy." 
" Can I see it? “
" And embarass him? “ Able laughed " Oh no. Caine hates when people toy around his unfinished work, and its been unfinished for the longest time. How would you feel if I asked to see your first drawing? He would murder me." Able chuckled.
" But-”
" Come, come. Break time is over." His big hand tapped her from behind, making her flinch and walk forward. “Lets go practice your routine again shall we? “
Although it wasn’t a flat ‘no’, something about that answer felt untrustworthy. She looked up at him and his many eyes, looking away when they stared back. Her legs walked stiff around the manor again. She’s grown used to it but not exactly comfortable. 
Pomni would go blind if this kept up. It took her all to not cover her eyes from the burning spotlight, It hurt her retinas but she was told to keep a straight and elegant posture after every show. The crowd was deafening the way they cheered for her, their voices, humanoid, but not exactly. Their cheers would haunt her nightmares, but it's what she clings to if she wishes to stay useful in the circus… 
She did it. She won.
She bowed to the crowd, arm held up by her temporary mentor, showing her off in pride. 
“ The Living Doll, my dear viewers! “
Only the tip of her shoes touched the ground as she stood from her position. In the corner of her eyes she would see Caine clapping, but it wasn't a slow clap by any means. To her surprise it wasn't at all upset. Rather he just clapped… and the familiar feeling of eyes tracking her every move returned.
On one hand, She hopes this means Gangle is spared from any punishment… on the other hand… why?
She didn't know why she had to ask herself that. She had a feeling.
Pomni closed her eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was in her room, being groomed by the mannequins after a hard day of performing.
A shakey sigh left her. Atleast the day was over. She scrunched up when an NPC wiped her face with a wet cloth. Although she was made of wood, she was not prone to a plush exterior. The mannequins groomed her well but admittedly they can get a little aggressive at times.
Most of her routine was finished however. She looked good as new. Simply just had her bow taken out as an NPC brushed her hair to prepare her for bed.
But then,
Creaak… The sound of the door. 
“ A moment alone." 
Pomni’s hair stood up upon hearing his voice. She heard a snap and the next thing she knew the NPCs fell to the ground like piles of rubble, seemingly no longer functioning. His voice was enough. She didn't bother to turn. Her eyes fixated to look at the mirror either as a freeze response or in denial of the situation…
Fully knowing that all NPCs were inactive at the time… a different pair of hands started brushing her hair. 
Pomni swallowed.
Caine hasn't felt her hair himself the whole time she’s been in the circus. He would never usually put himself in the dirty work of a groomer, but that day… he was feeling especially clingy. 
For the next few minutes, nothing but the sound of the hair brush filled the room. Pomni's eyes now trailed down, refusing to look at him even in the mirror, Though at the corner of her vision she would sense him occasionally turning up to look at her. She did not reciprocate. 
“ How was your visit?"
“ Good." Pomni frowned.
“ …What were you doing? Did he treat you well? “
What was it with the brothers and asking her how she felt about them? Oh well. She learned her lesson. “ Able was a great host. He fed me good food and was really patient. He has a way with words and is really good at the violin… he was, uh…classy. And treated me really politely. He even—”
" Stop. “ 
The brushing stopped, 
" Thats enough.” Caine could break the comb with how tight he was holding it. Stop. Stop praising him like everyone else did. He didn't like when his name escaped her lips. He loathed the idea of her spending time with him, getting to know him, adoring him just like everyone else he knew.
Various intrusive thoughts entered his mind. He could pull out all her hair right then, crush her head between his teeth, he didn't know he was capable of such strong emotions until moments like these happened.
Yet it was all hidden in the shadows of his maw. Caine kept his head down, his eyes out of sight. Though that didn't stop Pomni from seeing his clenched fist on the poor comb.
That wasn't the answer he was looking for…?
“ Uhh! On second thought, his - his cooking was a little off… “ Pomni continued. “ I-I don't know what he thought humans liked--… but he was definitely off in his calculations... “
Silence from Caine… but she could sense his grip loosen. He tilted his head back up from his low gaze. 
" Mhm! I say your cooking is a little better! Its good--um- just harder to fully grasp, I guess, which isn't your fault. “
Caine continued to brush her hair. He could stay there for hours to hear her praise him and degrade his brother. It has been a while since he heard anyone criticise Able, and to hear it from the person he wanted from the most made him revel in the feeling.
“ And what is it with his over insistance to be so proper, right? It felt like even breathing was banned around him. “
“ That sounds like him.”Admittedly that one pleased Caine. Although Caine was all for following the rules, Sometimes his brother’s prudence can limit his creativity. He knows it all too well. 
" Was he always like this? “ Pomni asked. 
" And what would happen if I said yes? “
" Nothing. I guess its good to know that he was always that annoying. “
" Ha! “ That one caught him off guard! He put his hands on her shoulders, an olden man’s way of effection or showing pleasure. 
To Pomni it was as releiving as it was terrifying. Her body scrunched up from the sudden touch. “Haha… “ she laughed nervously. It was almost like she could feel herself gaining favor with each laugh. She guesses Caine really felt strongly about his brother. It wasn't her business. 
“ Im sorry to hear your visit was unpleasant. My brother really should have known better." Caine put away the comb on her vanity, and kept his hands on her shoulders. He didn't sound sorry. He didn't even bother to hide his pleasure over the idea. “ Ill make sure he doesn't get his grubby hands on you again… “
" Much appreciated. '' Pomni closed her eyes and nodded, pleased, before opening them back up again in a panic. “ Uh--! Actually, How about no? “
"... No? “
" I-I mean uh…” Pomni limiting her reach around the digital world also meant limiting her reach for a possible exit… but ofcourse, shes not telling Caine that " I-I just had ..so much fun performing for the audience with higher stakes, I guess, you know? Plus-- plus! It might make me more desireable to have big wins every now and then! “
“... I suppose." Caine thought to himself. Perhaps having her around Able a little more might build some resentment. Though Caine admittedly was a little disappointed with that answer. He went quiet again and kept his hands on her shoulders, though this time, a grip that's a little more stiff.
Pomni exhaled… 
shit… change the subject.
Pomni cleared her throat. “Did you… enjoy the performance? “
Caine laughed, a pity laugh. “ I enjoyed it as much as a person can enjoy a pre-planned game, yes. “
“ Huh?"
“ It was rigged, my dear." 
“ Oh…… … … … "
“ You wouldn't actually think I'd let you play fair on your first game would you? The audience would boo you to oblivion. “ Caine continued. 
Pomni looked down, admittedly a little embarrassed. She normally wouldn't care for her work as long as she gets to live another day, but still. Ouch. A blow to her ego.
“ It's alright. It's not your fault that Able can be tacky with his taste in art.” it seems that the more Pomni looked down the more affectionate he got. He placed his would-be chin on her head and continued to look at her eyes in the mirror. “I took control of your body 20…30...50% of the performance and that was that. “
“... Thanks." 
" You're welcome. “ Caine tapped her shoulders and stepped away, back into the air. He snapped his fingers and the mannequins previously on the floor re-assembled, back to walking and moving like nothing happened. 
Caine moved closer to the door.  “ Now get ready for bed! We have another routine to do first thing in the morning! How exciting.“
Before she could say anything else, Caine was out. Pomni let out little exhausted groans and put her forehead down on the table. “Augghh! God!" She put her hands on her head, just about ready to have her fourth mental breakdown. “ I can't… I CAN’T. I hate this place!”
The mannequins didn't know how to groom her in that position, and so they simply put her bow back on, and gave her a pat on the head. 
She stayed in that position for a little longer, quiet, just letting it all seep in. While she wallowed, the mannequins left her with the room since they finished their work. Now, it was only Pomni by herself.
She took a breath and turned her head up. Chin on the vanity, looking up at the mirror. She stared at the reflection, the constant reminder of her digital prison, and sighed.
It's okay, Pomni.
We have a plan. 
This isn't over yet. 
1K notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
Text
Natalia V
Hardersson x Daughter!Reader
Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adeventures Universe
Summary: Talia finally does it
Tumblr media
It's not a big diamond but it's not exactly small either.
It's understated, Magda supposes. The picture of it looks kind of blurry but she can tell it's beautiful.
It's the most nervous Magda's ever seen Natalia. Talia's always had this confidence, a slight arrogance that followed her every move but she's withdrawn a little now, almost nervous as she displays a photo of the ring.
"It's not ready yet," She says," I'm getting shaped to fit her finger properly."
For once, Magda is speechless in Natalia Guijarro's company. You've been with her for a few years now so Magda is used to Talia's presence. She'd even go as far as to say Talia is part of the family.
But this would make it official.
"Talia," Pernille says, clutching Magda's hand and looking close to tears," Really?"
"I..." Talia's throat bobs. "I love your daughter with all my heart and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. As my wife." Her eyes dance between Magda and Pernille. "Do I have your permission?"
Pernille nods but that was a given. Pernille has always loved Talia, always been so sure that Talia was good for you.
Magda's the challenge though and all three of them know it.
You're Magda's little girl, the little baby she had once held in her arms and wept over. She's always been trying to hold onto that part of you, the tiny child that complained about wearing her Chelsea shirt and got stolen from her every time she went to camp.
Magda stands and Talia almost folds into herself as she stares up at the older woman.
"You want to marry my daughter?"
"Yes."
"Good," Magda says, holding her hand out for Talia to shake," Because I can't think of anyone I would want to marry my daughter apart from you."
Talia picks up the ring with Magda on the breakfast run she promised you, opening and closing the case anxiously.
"She's going to say yes," Magda says.
"You don't know that."
"I do. She's crazy for you."
"She could do better."
Magda hums. "No, she couldn't."
The ring feels heavy in Talia's pocket for the weeks after she picks it up, waiting for the right time to get down on one knee to propose to you.
There's been so many opportunities but she just hasn't take it yet.
Patri's been calling her a coward, telling her that everyone already knows what you're going to say so it's not nearly as tense at Talia thinks it's going to be.
But, still, the ring goes everywhere with her and none of the chances are nearly perfect enough for this moment.
Snow falls heavily in Sweden, beating against the window as you sit in front of Pernille like you did when you were little, letting her pull it back into an elaborate braid.
There's groans from outside the front door and the scraping of shovels.
Pernille sighs. "I keep telling your Morsa to shovel the driveway after it's finished snowing. I don't know why she always insists on doing it whilst it's happening."
"I can't believe she's gotten Talia out there with her. She hates the snow."
Pernille laughs a little bit, twisting a strand of your hair neatly. "You know those two. Always competing."
"I don't think Morsa understands she's not as fit as she used to be."
"Don't tell her that. Magda thinks she's just as fit as she always was. She pretends that she doesn't get back pain."
You giggle a little bit and Pernille ties off your braid.
The front door opens and neither Magda nor Talia stops to say hello as they stalk from the front garden to the back garden, dragging in a big box through the house.
Pernille sighs, drawing the curtains closed, a hint of a smile on her face.
"What was that?"
She shrugs, lying straight to your face," I don't know. Magda must have ordered something for the garden again."
The sound of drills and hammers sound in the backyard and you turn to go look but Pernille shepherds you upstairs.
"I left you something on your bed," She tells you," Do you mind changing into it? I put some shoes there too."
You frown. "I'm an adult now. I don't need you buying me clothes."
"Humour me, princesse, and go change."
It's a simple dress which makes you frown.
Pernille usually buys you things like jackets and jumpers to keep you warm. A dress is different but not unwelcome.
It's nice. It fits well and the shoes are comfortable too.
You glance at yourself in the mirror, checking the fit. With the way Pernille's done your hair, you look beautiful.
You can't help the small smile that appears on your face.
You don't really get dressed up a lot, happy in your comfortable tracksuit bottoms and an oversized shirt but this outfit makes you feel a little bit giddy as you head down the stairs to show Pernille.
She's not there though and you duck into several rooms in confusion but she's nowhere to be found.
The curtains looking into the back garden have been drawn back though and you spot Talia standing under a wooden arch that definitely wasn't there this morning.
You step outside, the snow falling softly as you walk up the path to her.
She sucks in a stuttered breath as you approach.
"You...You look beautiful."
You glance down bashfully. "What are you doing out here? You hate the cold."
Talia laughs a little nervously, hands behind her back. "I was waiting for you."
"You could have been waiting a while."
"I would have waited however long it took."
You glance around. "What's going on?"
"Oh, god...I...I had a speech but I think I've forgotten it all."
You frown. "Talia, I'm confused."
"I promise I had a speech. When I remember it, I'll definitely tell you but...As of right now, all I can do is this."
Talia gets down on one knee.
"Will you marry me?"
554 notes · View notes
wcbblife · 4 months
Text
Slow mornings
Thinking about early mornings with Paige and your energetic toddler.
a/n: Those Paige mom hcs just make my mind wander way too much
For some reason, your baby girl woke up way earlier than usual, and you felt a small finger silently poking at your back. You tried to get up as quietly as possible since Paige was still peacefully sleeping next to you. Deciding to let her rest, knowing that all the games and practices were really taking a toll on her, on top of taking care of a toddler, even though she had insisted you wake her no matter what.
The only problem was that your toddler burst with energy as soon as you closed the bedroom door behind you. “Hey, we gotta be quiet. Mommy is still sleeping in there,” you whisper, trying to calm her down, but it’s seemingly no use. Even at the crack of dawn, she always seemed like a ball of energy.
You kneel down to her level, placing a finger to your lips. “Shhh, let’s play a quiet game, okay?”
She nods enthusiastically, but the concept of “quiet” doesn’t seem to register. You lead her to the living room, hoping to find something to keep her occupied without waking Paige. Grabbing her favorite coloring book and crayons, you set her up at the coffee table. “Here, let’s color together.”
For a few minutes, it works. She’s absorbed in her drawing, and you breathe a sigh of relief, thinking you might have bought Paige some more precious sleep. But then, just as quickly, she’s up again, darting around the room with boundless energy.
You try to think of something else to keep her entertained. “How about a snack?” you suggest, heading to the kitchen. She follows you, bouncing on her toes. You grab some fruit and a small cup of juice, hoping the distraction will last a bit longer.
As she munches on the apple slices, you glance at the clock, realizing it’s still so early. The sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Keeping up with her energy is a challenge, especially when you and Paige are just way too tired.
The only thing that seems to calm her down momentarily is the creak of the door to your shared room. A sleepy Paige emerges from the dark room, her tousled hair on full display. You throw her an apologetic look as your daughter shrieks with delight at the sight of her other mother. She waddles over to Paige, her little feet pattering on the floor, and you see the grin on Paige’s face grow.
“Hey baby,” Paige says, reaching down and groaning slightly as Mia jumps into her arms. “You’re up early.”
Mia takes a careless hold of Paige's chin, shrieking once again, and you watch as Paige winces at the loudness of it.
“Sorry, babe,” you say, moving toward them and rubbing Mia’s back with one hand and Paige’s bicep with the other. Paige shakes her head, leaning in to give your cheek a sweet kiss.
“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “I missed my morning cuddle time anyway.”
Mia babbles something unintelligible, tapping her hands on Paige’s shoulders with excitement. Paige chuckles, bouncing Mia gently to soothe her.
“Aren't you tired, baby girl?” Paige asks Mia, never really expecting a real answer. “Wanna watch Bluey with mommy?” You both jump as your toddler shrieks with excitement. “I'll take that as a yes,” Paige laughs.
“I'll get started with breakfast. Please try and rest some more,” you say, brushing a stray hair off Paige's face and throwing her a worried look.
“You don't gotta worry about me, momma,” she replies, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Alright?”
“Okay, baby,” you respond, unable to suppress the smile on your face as Mia buries her face in the crook of Paige's neck. “Be nice, Mia.”
Paige carries Mia into your room, and you hear her mumble something soothing before the unmistakable tune of Bluey fills the house. You pause for a moment, enjoying the sound of Mia's giggles blending with the cheerful music.
In the kitchen, you start preparing breakfast, the familiar routine bringing a sense of calm. You whisk eggs and pour them into the sizzling pan, the smell of cooking filling the room. You glance over at the room, seeing Paige and Mia cuddled up on the bed, completely engrossed in the show. Paige’s eyes occasionally flutter shut, but Mia’s boundless energy keeps her awake.
You plate the food and bring everything to the table, ready to call them over for breakfast.
“Breakfast is ready!” you announce.
Paige gently disentangles herself from Mia, who protests with a small whine but quickly settles as Paige promises more Bluey after breakfast. She carries Mia over to her highchair and settles her in, making sure she’s comfortable.
You watch them with a smile as you pour coffee for Paige and yourself, setting the mugs on the table. “Here you go,” you say, handing Paige her coffee.
“Thanks, babe,” she says, taking a sip and sighing contentedly. “This is just what I needed.”
622 notes · View notes
rupeenotruby · 3 months
Text
@isasan347 made a post about Fable doing her ssbu stuff in front of Legend and I thought the idea was quite humorous and so I made a comic!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I chose to go with her lightning kick because her three main special moves are just the great fairy spells for OOT which would then belong to Time and her down b isn't very iconic since it is a more recent addition. Lightning kick has been there since the beginning and is the first thing I think of when I think of Zelda in ssb.
I started working on this comic a few weeks ago but had to put it on hold because of my finals. But now they are over and I have finished this! There is a lot I dislike about this comic (namely the dialogue, I didn't really script this out like I should)(If you have a better final punchline you are welcome to edit the panels with it (2nd to last), I changed it so many times and am still not the biggest fan of it). But there is also a lot I like! I actually finished it for one! Yipppe! I'm still figuring out how to draw everyone and wouf! It was a challenge (shoutout to four though he's a real one). I'm probably going to study their clothes a bit more before making another comic though. I'm also still figuring out how to write all these guys so they might be ooc, sorry about that too. Also here's the rough draft if you want to see it(if you zoom in you can see the original ending (maybe)):
Tumblr media
Anyways, if you have read this far, I have a favor to ask: You see it has been a while since I have made a comic for human consumption, and I would like some feedback. Is the text big enough? Do you understand what is happening? Anything really bothering you about it? Anything you really like? Etc. Etc. I am open to constructive criticism.
I will take this time to complain about Zelda's horrible heeled-sandal-boots. They are evil and awful and horrible and every other negative thing you can think of. That is all.
444 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes