#she can't fuckin process a goddamn word I say.

[cesium-sheep]

no yeah pretty sure it's a trauma response thing.

the whole year has been so very very very bad, so as the end gets nearer I get counterintuitively more anxious, both because I become more afraid something else will come along to kick me back into the pit and because I have a little more room to breathe instead of just having to grit my teeth and carry on. (this is pretty normal in the context of prolonged stress and long-term traumatic situations (as opposed to singular Events))

[blurrypetals]

Long Live Evil by Sarah Rees Brennan

originally posted sep. 5, 2024 - ★★★★★

Goddamn it. It's books like this that make reading worth it. Fuckin' A. I'm speechless, but I'm going to try to say words about it all.

First of all, I fucking knew this was going to have a cliffhanger after a little while, but I kept hoping I wouldn't need to wait a year or more for the next book, and alas, here I am, struggling not to scream beside my sleeping husband about that fucking ending.

I am absolutely bananas for every single one of these characters, I love the isekai fantasy premise, everything about the setting and plot is just absolutely fantastic. It's exactly how I felt about In Other Lands a few years ago, one of my favorite books. It was unexpectedly wonderful, and I find this to be the same.

I think one of the more enjoyable things about this book was how Rae behaves here. First, I loved that she didn't know or remember everything about the book series, and that Eric read a different version of the story, so neither of our "real world" characters know 100% of what happens, or they misremember details, leading to a much more interesting story from there.

More importantly, however, I think most lesser authors would have taken this premise and not only have the protagonist be an expert superfan of the book series, but they would likely also try playing along with the story as they knew it, fearing the changes they might cause, ruining the story in the process.

Instead of any of this, Rae embraces the fact that she's playing as a villain sentenced to death and decides to be reckless, evil, and it's an absolute delight to see her modern sensibilities and manner of speech colliding with everyone else's medieval accents and confusion about how Rae and Eric behave. I most especially adored Key and Rae's relationship and I absolutely can't wait for more of it whenever I get to devour the next book.

In all, this book was everything I wanted and then some. I am so stoked we get to have more of it someday, even if I do have to wait several months for more. Until then, I'm definitely going to read more of Sarah's back catalogue to tide me over!

[countlessrealities]

@petalsxfallen sent: “Are you upset with me, Morty? You look angry. Did I do something wrong?” (for finding rejuvenated Petal and Rick making out XD)

Whatever words Morty had been about to yell out got stuck in his throat, quickly forgotten as Petal spoke up, inserting herself in the heated, even if mostly one-sided, discussion he had been having with Rick. The man's dismissive attitude had just fuelled his anger, to the point that he had stopped caring about whether or not his grandfather talked back to him. All he wanted to do was giving a harsh piece of his mind.

The teen's head jerked in the Gem's direction, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He had almost forgotten that the pearl was still there, as absorbed as he was in his enraged rant. Not to mention that, while he was visibly upset, he had thought that it was obvious whom the object of his animosity was.

"W-What? No! O-Of course not," he hurried to say, once his mind had processed what she was asking. How could she even think that this was on her? She had no memory, no idea of whom she was supposed to be and of what she was supposed to want. "You...It's not on you. I-It's on him."

Hazel eyes moved back on Rick and his anxious expression morphed back into an accusatory one. "H-He took advantage of you. An-And he should be ashamed of it!"

Rick rolled his eyes at the accusation. He had lost count of how many times Morty had thrown it out in the last ten minutes, but he knew that it had been enough for him to start getting bored with it. Or, at least, he would have been bored if the words hadn't been so offensive.

Petal might not be the Gem they had come to know now, but she was still capable of making her decisions. She wasn't mentally impaired or anything of the sort. It was like dealing with another version of her, and said version happened to like him enough to want to be his friend with benefit.

"H-Hey, watch what you're saying, little shit. I-I didn't take advantage of anyone. O-Or force myself on them," he shot back, irritation colouring his voice. "F-For the fuckin' umpteenth time, w-what we did was completely consensual. An-And she fuckin' started it every time after the first, s-so get off my case, M-Morty. N-No one gives a shit about your opinion. I-It's none of your goddamn business!"

Morty's face grew a little red with anger, body tensing as if he had been struggling to hold himself back from jumping on the scientist and physically making his point.

"I-It became my business the moment I walked in an-and found you eating her face, R-Rick!" The teen shot back, his voice rising in volume. Good thing that no one else was home or by now the whole family would have been there. "An-And she is my friend, s-so I'm looking out for her! Ho-How do I know that you won't get in the way o-of her getting her memories back?! B-Because like this she likes you, w-while regular Petal hardly looks at you!"

The accusation caused Rick's frown to turn into a deep, outraged scowl. Was the little turd serious accusing him of that? Sure, the thought might have crossed his mind a couple of times, but he wouldn't have gone that far. Maybe not because he respected Petal's free will so much, but certainly because he knew how mad his grandson would have gotten. Jeopardising their friendship for a few fucks and some praise...it wasn't worth it.

"W-What the...Are you fuckin' serious, Morty?! D-Do you really think that I'm that much of an asshole?!" He was, but he liked to think that the teen would have given him the benefit of doubt. "Y-You know what? I-I think you're just jealous b-because I always get some, w-while you can't even ask someone out! An-And fuck you, little shit! G-Go jerk that stupid tiny dick of yours an-and stop unloading your sexual frustration on me!"

"T-This isn't...I-I'm not unloading anything here! I-I'm protecting Petal!" Morty shouted back, hands balling into fists. "Y-You...y-you...Fuck YOU, Rick! An-And yeah, I think you could, b-because you're that selfish!"

"G-Get out of my garage! I-I don't want to deal with your dumb ass."

"I-If someone is a dumb ass, tha-that's you! S-Smartest man in the universe an-and he can't even understand the situation! Y-You are ridiculous, Rick! An-And not in a funny way!"

"Oh, I-I am ridiculous? An-And what does that make you? A-Always sticking your nose in others' business b-because without it your life is pathetic as Jerry's!"

"A-At least I'm not some delusional, sad old man!"

"N-No, you're a fuckin' idiotic teenager w-who needs me to hold his hand all the time, b-because he can't do shit on his own!"

"F-Fuck you, Rick!"

"Y-You fuckin' wish, Morty!"

And on they went, throwing out insults and growls, having completely forgotten that Petal was still there. Hopefully, she would have been sensible enough to live before things escalated too much.

[retro-rezz-the-est]

omfg dude... i've got two eps left of lucifer s6. but so far i am already absolutely blown away at the writing?? maze and eve's relationship stuff and ella dealing with finally realising the truth?? RORY— can't wait to see how that plot line ends. amenadiel dealing with institutional racism as a cop is the most impactful arc to me rn, it's kinda strange that it took them this long to examine the issue again, but i'm glad that they pointed out so many levels to the issue when they finally did, and in such simple ways. those episodes were so good on their own didn't even feel like it was 'lucifer' necessarily? had me on the edge of my seat with the stomach sickening suspense of reiben fucking shit up ugh

tbh you're so damn right??????

this entire season was literally so goddamn satisfying in every sense of the word. like shows rarely go this all out for their final seasons and have it all be satisfying nd completely go with the flow of the show all in one go, and the Lucifer team managed to do it in spades.

amenadiel experiencing racial bias - especially within the police force where nobody really likes to bring it up - and the lady who was working with him? the lady cop? hearing her talk about how kids feared her and what she does just because of the uniform she wears because "the uniform took their mother away, or it took their brother away"........that all broke me ngl.

and honestly, i was wondering why they were keeping ella out of the loop for so damn long because she is an integral part and member of lucifer's entire story, and then they have her find out all the major plot points through reading linda's fanfiction first draft of her book 😂😂 it's fucking amazing. and of course they would bring her into everything now during probably the most unexpected arc of the show's whole run, which i find really cool.

and every single fucking character gets their own happy ending/gets what they want in the end.

lucifer finally realizes that he can actually, definitively help people but not by doing what everyone else says that he should do.....but by doing it in his own way.

amenadiel gets to ascend to god's throne like he said he wanted to back in season four/five (i believe???? i know he said he wanted to, i just forgot where lol)

linda and charlie are happier than ever and charlie's wings came in!!!!

maze and eve worked through their relationship and trust issues to finally see the other as they truly were, and are now kicking ass and taking names together.

ella gets to help other girls go into STEM fields and become just like her - an inspiration to their communities - and she's getting closer to dan's friend in the process.

speaking of dan, he finally gets to be in heaven - AS HE FUCKIN SHOULD - and finally, finally gets to be with charlotte.

rory finally understands why lucifer was gone for her whole life, and relinquishes the hatred that she had for him.

and for chloe......despite the hardship that's gonna come with raising rory without telling her why lucifer had left them, she knows that it's for the best cause in this life and the next. and when she finally passes, she gets to be with him for the rest of however long, solving problems as the partners they were born to be.

i've never been this satisfied with a show's series finale because it's just so damn good. everything gets resolved, everyone gets what they want, everyone's satisfied.

this show is a goddamn masterpiece.

[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 13 - Invidia (Part 2)

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale's problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Back at Applewood, things between Harper and Drake get heated… and not just because of the sweltering summer heat.

Word Count: 6,400 (+ about 1,500 words’ of additional notes at the end)

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst, aggravation, possible dub con, some serious smut)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Thank you for bearing with me! I know you have all been anxiously awaiting this next installment! Hopefully it meets expectations...! 🙃 Also, if you haven’t listened to the chapter theme song yet, this is definately the time to do it, because it’ll help set you up for what’s about to go down... *dun dun dun...*

A/N2: Special shout-out to @angelasscribbles again for helping me out when I got a bit stuck on an important detail in this part!

A/N3: As before, translation of French terms/phrases at the end.

A/N4: Invidia is a Latin term and it means ‘envy’.

Chapter 13 - Invidia (Part 2)

Inside the barn, it's cool and slightly musty, with what looked like hundreds of crates of freshly picked apples lining the walls.

I hear the loud bang! of wood hitting wood coming from the back and head towards the noise.

Sure enough, I find Drake in the process of forcefully stacking the crates of apples that he brought with him, his body rigid with tension.

I feel my shoulders drop with a sigh at the sight of him.

Something is clearly bothering him. Something that I’ve unknowingly done. And I’m not going to get him to open up to me if I keep pushing him in the passive-aggressive way that I have been on the ride over. I need to try a different approach.

Laying my crate down on the hard-packed dirt ground, I walk up to him cautiously.

"Drake?" I say softly, reaching out towards him. "Look, I just—"

He slams the last crate into place before shouldering roughly past me.

"Drake!" I cry, grabbing his arm. "Talk to me! Please!"

He whirls around, teeth bared. "Are you fucking him?"

My mouth drops in shocked disbelief. "Wha—?"

"Don't pretend you didn't hear me, Gale."

He's glaring down at me with such a choking intensity that I feel myself take an involuntary step backwards.

But he closes the gap between us, refusing to give me any breathing room as he clips out each word again. "Are. You. Fucking. Him."

"No!" I shout, shoving him back. "How can you even—?"

"—read a situation and draw a fuckin' logical conclusion?" he snaps sarcastically. "Gee, I don't know! Maybe 'cause it's literally my goddamn job!"

"Well, you read it wrong, Sherlock!" I hit back irately, knocking the cap from his head. "There is nothing going on between me and Christian! Which is more than—"

He snorts caustically. "Maybe not yet. But it's only a matter of time."

I feel my blood boil over at the baseless accusation. "What the hell is that—?"

"You can't seriously be that clueless..."

"Clueless about what?"

"That he's trying to win you back!"

I stiffen. "What?"

"Oh, don't look so surprised, Gale," he drawls bitterly. "It's not like he's try'na hide it. He all but pissed a fuckin' circle around you this morning!"

I shake my head disbelievingly. "No... He just—"

"He gave you a fuckin' castle, Gale!" he shouts. "With a goddamn observatory! While I've given you what? A stupid bracelet and a phone? How the fuck am I supposed to compete with that?"

"It's not a competition!"

"Well, it sure as hell feels like it from where I'm standing," he snarls. "And you keep encouraging him."

My eyes all but pop out of my head. "What! How can you even—?"

"Less than an hour after fucking me in the car at the Beaumonts', you turn around and agree to become his mistress!"

"In name only!" I point out vehemently. "And it's not like—"

"—he's gonna try and take advantage of it?" He scoffs humourlessly. "Trust me. He's already laying the groundwork. The duchy is just the start."

"Back in Ramsford, you told me to accept the duchy!" I remind him with a forceful jab to his chest. "So, don't you dare—"

"Back in Ramsford I didn't realise it was part of a larger game plan to make you his!" he all but roars, grabbing my wrist roughly.

"I'm not 'his'," I hiss tersely, glaring up at him. "Just because he gave me something doesn't mean—"

"Damn fucking right, girl," he growls, face inches from mine. "You're mine."

I open my mouth to protest the ludicrousness of that statement — especially the idea that I am some kind of prize bone to be scrapped over and claimed...

...but in the next instant, he's shoved me up against the apple crates, his mouth crashing down on mine in a brutally possessive kiss that knocks the wind from my lungs.

My eyes flutter shut with an involuntary moan as my body reacts instantaneously to his sudden, overwhelming proximity, especially given that he left me high and dry this morning...

...but then I remember that I am still mad at him.

And there is no way I’m going to give him the satisfaction of letting him think he can have the last word simply by manhandling me into submission, or distracting me from airing my own grievances with him.

Opening my eyes, I try to squirm out from beneath him. But he leans in, trapping me against the unyielding wall of wood behind me and the hardness of his body as he claims me with his mouth and tongue.

Ignoring the heat of his bare chest against mine, and the growing dampness between my thighs, I bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, the choler from our heated exchange still coursing through me, looking for an outlet.

He snarls against my mouth — whether in pain, or arousal, I can’t really tell — but I feel his hold on my wrist tighten. "You want it rough, huh?"

"I want you to get off me!" I cry, smacking him with my free hand... which has about the same effect as poking a bear. "And apologise!"

"For what?" he challenges, grabbing my wayward wrist and pinning it above my head together with the first. "Pointing out the fuckin' obvious?"

"For thinking that I'd cheat on you! For being a massive ass! For lying to me about you and Kiara!"

His gaze darkens. "I never lied to you."

"Then what the fuck were you doing between her legs just now!"

"Nothing!" he shouts in my face. "I want nothing to do with her!"

"Not sure she got that memo..." I snip vindictively.

His eyes burn into me. "Did Chris?"

"Y—!"

But his mouth is suddenly on mine again, cutting me off.

I try to wrench my head away, but he snaps a hold around the base of my jaw, preventing escape.

"D'you remember what I told you this morning?" he breathes, tilting my face so I’m looking up at him.

"Before or after you stormed off the first time?" I snark, meeting his molten espresso gaze defiantly, even as I feel my lower body arc treasonously towards him.

"Before," he specifies, trailing his hand down my neck, the unspoken meaning behind this seemingly innocent gesture clear — he is 100% in control and I am totally at his mercy... whether I like it or not.

"That I like to try and knock my Guard out?" I offer shirtily, trying to free my wrists from the bind he has them in above my head.

"Keyword being 'try'," he drawls, pushing my hands higher, deteriorating my already slim chances of escape. "And, no. I was thinking about the promise I made you..."

I feel my breath catch in my throat as he moves in, his mouth a mere hair's breadth from mine.

"...which was?" he prompts meaningfully, nipping my bottom lip.

"That you'll fuck me six ways to Sunday," I gasp against my better judgement, feeling his arousal pressing against me through his jeans.

"Until you can neither see, nor walk straight," he confirms roughly, trailing his hand over my breast.

"And what makes you think I'll let you?" I demand, trying to keep my voice steady. "Especially since—"

"You've been wanting it since this morning?" he smirks. "I think my chances are good..."

Before I have a chance to blink, he's spun me roughly around.

My hands fly out instinctively to steady myself against the crates, head whirling from the sudden reversal. "Not until you apologise."

He grabs me by the shoulders, hands seeking the closure of my dress even before I've come to a complete stop. "I'm not gonna apologise for being right."

"But you weren't right, were you?" I counter as I feel his warm breath tickle the nape of my neck, causing my heart to thud erratically. "Not about—"

"You're fuckin' kidding me..." he growls suddenly from behind me.

"What's the matter, Walker?" I taunt with a knowing smirk, knowing full well that he's just laid eyes on the long row of tiny buttons that stretched from the nape of my neck to the top of my tailbone, curtailing his access. "The universe try'na tell you something?"

"The universe can suck it," he declares, grabbing the delicate material.

In the next second, he's ripped the back panels of the dress apart, sending the tiny buttons flying.

I gasp in surprise as the tight-fitting fabric relinquishes its hold on my body. "Do you have to rip everything I wear?" I accuse, even as I heave a relieved breath.

God, it feels good to to be out of this accursed dress!

"When it's in the goddamn way..." he confirms, wasting no time in unhooking my bra.

I shiver as his fingers brush over my bare skin. "Hate to break it to ya, bud, but that's kinda the point of clothes."

"Which makes them massively overrated," he declares, tugging the bra off my shoulders together with the rest of the dress, sending both into the dirt at my feet.

His hands are back on me in a heartbeat, the graze of his thumb over my hardened nipple pulling a low moan from me as my backside juts back against him shamelessly, the emotional arousal of our earlier heated exchange combining with the rekindled physical desire from this morning to create a Molotov cocktail of fiery lust...

...but he isn’t off the hook yet.

"You still haven't apologised..."

He responds by running his fingertips up the inside my thigh. "Neither have you, Gale..."

My eyes widen. "Me? What the hell should I—?"

I yelp as he snaps the waistband of my underwear against my hip… hard.

"This, for starters," he growls against my neck. "The fuck d'you think you're wearing?"

"A thong," I answer cattily. "Don't tell me you haven't seen one before, Walker."

"I've seen plenty," he assures me, scrunching the sheer lace together in his fist, making me suck in a shuddering breath as his knuckles dig into the overtly sensitive skin of my mons. "And I don't ever want to see one on you again."

My jaw drops in disbelief. "You can't be—"

"Oh, I'm dead serious," he assures me, dipping a finger into my slick folds, causing my head to fall back against his shoulder with a gasp. "And if I find you in any kind of underwear again—"

"What?" I demand breathlessly. "You’ll stomp off in a huff?"

His stubble brushes the shell of my ear as he leans in to whisper, "There’ll be almighty hell t’ pay."

I jolt as he tears the lace forcefully off me.

"You are such a hypocrite," I accuse as he yanks my hips back. "Why should I have to—?

"Because if you want me to fuck you on this goddamn tour," he grits, undoing his belt and dropping his jeans with a thud, "then you'd better be prepared for quick and dirty."

I cry out as he grabs my waist and slams himself inside me.

"And I don't want to waste... one motherfuckin' second... gettin' you out of... useless pieces of clothing..." he expounds in time to the jerk of his hips, "that I could've spent... making you... scream."

My nails dig into the crates in front of me with a throaty moan as my body curls around the rhapsodic sensation of finally being filled by him fully, urgently, uninhibitedly.

I may be mad at him, but by God does he feel good!

"Nor do I want to dick around with a million-and-one buttons... hidden clasps... any of that shit." He thrusts deep into me in emphasis. "D'you hear me?"

My head tips back with a groan. "Dra—"

He whips the flat of his palm over my ass, jarring me. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes!" I gasp, feeling myself start to tighten in the face of his relentless assault.

"Good girl..." he growls, adjusting his hold on me. "Now, come for me."

"Not... until you... say sorry," I pant.

As much as I want to give into him, I’m not going to allow him to get away with his behaviour... especially his unfounded accusation that that I'd take up with his best friend behind his back.

He slides a hand around the curve of my hip. "And just how long you think you'll last, huh?"

I swallow a moan as he coasts down the diagonal of my groin. "As long as... it takes."

We had sex two nights ago. I can hold out... Right?

He trails lower with a snort. "You mean all of thirty seconds?"

I bite down on my bottom lip. "Try— Ah!"

"That's what I thought," he smirks as he continues to stroke my clit roughly, while using the heel of his hand to press me back against him in time with the hard and fast rhythm he's set.

I feel my legs start to tremble as I fight to keep the inevitable at bay, even as I rock back against him wantonly. "You're a bastard..."

"Thought I was an ass..." he drawls, inching his other hand up my side.

"The two aren't—" I pull in a strained breath as he finds my nipple and sends a bolt of desire zipping straight through my core. "—mutually exclusive."

"Whatever floats your boat, girl," he declares gruffly. "Just quit arguin' and come already."

I shake my head jaggedly. "Not until y—"

"Dammit, Gale..." he hisses, grabbing my waist again with both again hands to wrench me against him unsparingly.

An involuntary cry is torn from my lips as he sheaths himself to the hilt inside of me.

"...this isn't a fuckin' negotiation."

He snaps a hold around my throat, bending me back towards him as he presses the thumb of his other hand against my tailbone, as if he can literally force an orgasm out of me.

And maybe he can. Because the new angle — combined with the toe-curling tension he is putting on my body — pushes me right to the edge.

"No," I agree raggedly, doing everything in my rapidly diminishing power to stop myself from getting sucked down into the vortex of prurience swirling inside of me, "this is me telling you what's happening, Walker."

He slides his thumb lower, making me whimper. "What's happenin', Gale… is you're about to scream my name as you come all over my dick."

I choke out a sob as he rams into me pointedly, feeling myself drawn taut around him to the point of pain.

"In three... two..." His hold on my neck constricts as he heaves a low breath. "Christ, you're tight. O—"

My resistance snaps. My walls come tumbling down. His name is ripped from my throat as the wave that I've been trying to keep at bay consumes me. "Drake!"

"That's it, girl," he huffs, making no attempt to cover my mouth as my world implodes. "Scream my name. You know what... that does... to me."

"Drake...!" I plead helplessly, wanting him, needing him, even as I'm cast adrift by him.

"Fuck, Harper..." he groans, his hold on me slipping slightly as the sheer intensity of the maelstrom that he's whipped up inside of me crashes over him as well...

...but instead of slowing down like he normally does, he continues to drive forward at the same unforgiving pace.

"D-Drake...?" I stammer dazedly, my mind still in flux from the frankly supernal climax he just put me through. "Wh—?"

"I ain't done with you yet."

"But—"

Whatever I was going to say dissolves into a gasped mewl of protest as he suddenly pulls out of me.

And before I can catch up to what is happening, I find myself face-to-face with him again.

"You really didn't think that was it, did ya?" he asks, clamping a hand over my ass to pull me to him.

My arms fly up around his shoulders instinctively as the unexpected forward momentum scuppers my already shaky balance. "I—"

"Good," he declares, slipping his arm under my knee to hook it around his waist. "'Cause you're goin’ for a ride."

In one quick movement, he hoists me upwards and I suddenly find myself wrapped around his body.

I stare down at him uncomprehendingly, my frazzled brain trying to come to terms with what is happening as I sit suspended in the air.

Is he just going to just... hold me? Is it even possible to have sex like this? How are we even—?

"Not what you were expectin’?" he asks, balancing my weight on one arm as he reaches down between us.

I shake my head mutely, acutely aware of the fact that I am — very literally! — in his hands and the only thing that’s preventing me from ending up on the floor is the strength of his grip on me.

"Good," he grunts, slipping himself back inside my still thrumming core. "Gotta keep you on your toes."

"Drake!" I gasp as he fills me once more, my head dropping back in the face of the unusual, but strangely arousing angle.

"Pretty intense, huh?" he observes, adjusting me against him.

I moan incoherently as the corrected position allows him to slide even deeper.

"Let's kick things up a notch."

He lifts me off of him almost completely, making me whimper at his absence, before slowly lowering me back down, his hard length grinding over every inch of my sensitive centre. Barely giving me a chance to catch my breath, he repeats the process, a little bit faster this time.

I cling to him helplessly as he ups the tempo slowly but surely, until we're both gasping from the sheer intensity and physical exertion of him crashing us ruthlessly together like a pair of out of control wrecking balls.

"Say you're mine."

"Wha—?" My head is spinning and I'm barely conscious of anything apart from the rapidly building inferno inside of me.

"Say you're fuckin' mine, Harper," he grits, slamming me down against his sweat-slicked body.

I use the last remaining coherence left in my brain to lift my head back up. Locking eyes with him, I see that his face is tight and flushed with effort. But in the depths of his lust-blown, espresso gaze — beyond the avariciousness of his demand, and beyond the all-consuming carnal drive — I spot something unexpected...

Fear.

...and I am hit by a sudden epiphany.

All his life, he's lived in service to the Crown, relying on the generosity of the royals for his food, his lodgings, his entire livelihood — just like his parents had before him. And even though he's given up everything for the monarchy — his education, his independence, even the members of his own family — he continues to serve the Rys. As a Guard, as an advisor, as a friend and confidante, because he feels it’s his duty to do so... despite whatever hardship it may cause him. Because Christian is his brother; maybe not by blood, but most certainly by the mutually-forged bond of having spent twenty-plus years of their lives by the other's side. And that’s loyalty you can’t buy.

But now that loyalty is being tested.

By me.

Because as much as Drake cares about Christian — heck, he'd made it clear that he was willing to throw himself into the line of fire for him! — the uncomfortable truth is that he cares about me more. And that was why he’d nearly ripped Christian a new one each and every time he thought that my safety was being compromised.

Because he loves me.

And the thought of losing me to his best friend — who has all the money, power, and charm in the world, and who no woman has apparently ever turned down before — terrifies him. Especially since he already lost his entire family by virtue of their association with the Crown, and he'd been powerless to stop any of it from happening... just like he'd be powerless to stop me from choosing Christian, if that is what I decide I want to do, despite everything.

And that's why he'd stormed out of the observatory... because he couldn't bear the thought of having to watch it happen right before his eyes. Not after baring his soul to me despite all the rules and self-imposed barriers he tried to erect between us in a doomed attempt to stop himself from falling too deep...and ending up with a broken heart again.

"I'm yours," I assure him steadfastly, tightening my hold on him. "And I'm not going anywhere."

A choked sound escapes the back of his throat as his expression cracks momentarily. "You better not."

I tangle my fingers into his damp hair. "I'm with you 'til the end of the line. I promise."

Something flashes in his eyes...

...and in the next instant, he's slammed me back against the apple crates, causing the carefully stacked structure to wobble dangerously above me.

But neither of us pay it any heed because he's already devouring my mouth with his as he pounds into me brutally, claiming me, marking me as his in the basest way he can — with every fibre of his being.

And I let him. I give myself up to his relentless assault because I've never left this way with anyone before, and — if I’m being honest with myself — I am terrified of losing him too.

"Drake!" I shout, feeling the new wave start to crest. "I love you!"

"I fuckin' love you too, baby," he gasps into the crook of my neck, tightening his hold on my ass as he continues to drive desperately into me. "Now come all over me."

My eyes flutter shut as I arch up against him, every part of me wound tighter than a two dollar watch, begging for release.

He groans against me, his movements now jagged as he struggles to hold out, waiting for me. "Fuck, Harper, you're gonna make me cum so hard..."

"Drake..!" I plead, clawing for breath as the sensuous coil inside of me stretches to the limit.

He sinks his teeth into my shoulder with a ferine whine, his entire body trembling. "Mon coeur..."

He grazes my G-spot...

...and the tightly writhen spring inside of me shatters.

"Sweet... Jesus!" he grits as my orgasm rips over me, causing my world to flash white as I scream out wordlessly with sheer euphoria.

I feel him bury himself deep inside of me with a primal, animalistic cry, my forceful convulsions tearing his own, hot release out of him.

We lose ourselves in the tide, clutching at each other deliriously, as wave after wave of delicious pleasure crashes over us like a dam finally breaking, until we're both washed out.

He jerks against me a few more times before slumping forward, chest heaving and breath ragged, totally spent.

I stare up at the dusty cross-beams without really seeing them, body pulsing from head-to-toe as the ripples of rapture continue to lap lazily over me, washing away all semblance of thought or awareness beyond the here and now.

He'd been true to his word... because I definitely can’t see — nor can I even think about attempting to  walk — straight after that.

And if this is what make-up sex with Drake is like, then it’s almost worth the no-holds-barred argument that preceded it.

Almost.

Because as mind-blowing as the sex had been, I never want to go through the lead-up to it again — the confusion, the emotional uncertainty, the biting accusations and the guilt-tripping... none of it.

I have enough problems in my life right now without throwing an argument with Drake into the mix — the person who is supposed to have my back no matter what, and into whose hands I've placed not only my trust, but my life as well. And we can’t function properly as a team if one, or both of us, is worried about such a confidence-shattering possibility as infidelity.

So, I am glad we cleared the air. I just wish we'd done it sooner, and in a less heated way.

I feel him stir against me, drawing me back down to earth.

"You okay?" he asks hoarsely, lifting his head.

I nod mutely, unclasping my ankles from around his waist, knowing that we've been gone a long time and need to get back to the apple pick before people start speculating.

Sensing my intent, he lowers me gently down...

...but as he pulls out of me, I feel him suddenly tense.

"Drake?" I query whoozily, trying to maintain my balance on still-shaky legs. "Are you...?"

My words trail off as I spot the source of his consternation.

"Harper, I'm—" He swallows hard, seemingly unable to lift his eyes from the blood glistening on his still-erect length. "Fuck..."

"Hey," I say gently, reaching out to him. "It's—"

He twists away abruptly, but not before I see the flash of shame in his eyes.

"Drake... It's okay. We just—"

"Don't say that," he snaps, refusing to meet my eye as he yanks his boxers and jeans back up.

"Say what?" I ask, confused. The endorphins were still coursing through me, so whatever has happened, I can’t feel it.

"That it's 'okay'," he snaps, wrenching his belt through the buckle. "Because it's blatantly not."

"It's just a bit of blood. Stuff like this happens. There's n—"

"No, it doesn't," he cuts it forcefully. "Not with me. This shouldn't happen when you're with me. I... I got carried away... I lost control... I... I should've stopped..."

"You just got caught up in the moment," I tell him. "We both did. Emotions were running high and—"

"I fuckin' hurt you, Harper!" he shouts with such vehemence that I jolt. "Me! The person who's supposed to protect you, keep you safe!" He heaves a ragged breath. "I'm no better than that piece of shit Tar—"

The sharp sound of a slap echoes around the barn.

"Don't you dare compare yourself to him," I hiss, eyes blazing. "You are nothing like him."

His gaze meet mine, and I see the deep-seated conflict in those mocha depths. "But I hurt—"

"Not intentionally," I say, stepping up to him to run my palm soothingly over where my hand had connected with his cheek. "And that's the difference. You'd never hurt me intentionally."

He drops his gaze. "You don't know that..."

"Yes. I do," I insist, running my fingers through his sweat-streaked hair. "Because I know you, Drake. You'd take a bullet before you'd let anyone you cared about get hurt. And I'm sorry that I accused you of fooling around with Kiara behind my back. I know you wouldn't do that. I just keep catching you together and I—"

"Drew a fuckin' logical conclusion," he supplies dryly, pulling me to him.

"Yeah..." I sigh, suddenly having a better appreciation of where he'd been coming from about me and Christian as I wrap my arms around him and lay my head against his still slightly erratically beating heart. "Especially since she's blatantly trying to get in your pants."

"Trust me. I'm well aware," he mutters ruefully, resting his head against mine as he finds a wayward lock of my hair and starts twirling it around his finger. "But she's barking up the wrong tree. Even if the two of us weren't together, I wouldn't tap that thang with a ten foot pole."

Despite the serious nature of the topic, I can't help but snort in amusement at his deadpan phrasing. "Because she's so desperate?"

"Because she's an aristo. And I have a rule against knockin' boots with blue bloods."

"Just like you have a rule against dancing at formal balls...?" I ask meaningfully.

"That's a whole different bucket of bait, girl."

"Why?" I press. "Rules are rules, aren't they?"

"Yes," he admits. "But some are brassbound, while others are more flexible. The dancing falls under the latter category. While the other is — and will always remain — under the former."

"Sounds like there's a story there, bud..." I observe, peeking up at him conspiratorially.

He pulls a face. "Maybe. But I don't wanna get into that right now. Suffice to say, you ain't got nothing to worry about, mon coeur."

There’s that phrase again... The one he uttered in a fit of passion earlier. The one that said I am his world, and that losing me would be the equivalent of getting his heart ripped out.

"Okay," I accede, dropping a kiss at the base of his neck. "I trust you, Drake."

I feel his chest expand and contract beneath me as he heaves a low breath. "And I want to trust you too, Harper... I just..." He shakes his head, searching for the right words.

"You're worried I won't maintain my boundaries with Christian?" I ask. "Because I have to pretend to be his mistress?"

His grip on me tightens. "I'm worried you won't be given a choice."

I still. "Are you—? You think he'll—?"

Christian wouldn't... Would he...?

"Not if he has any sense," he glowers. "And wants to keep his balls."

"What do you mean, then?" I whisper, not sure I want to hear the answer.

He lets out sharp breath, struggling to articulate what is on his mind. "I mean... He's smart enough not to try and make a direct move on you. Because he knows that'll backfire. But he's also smart enough to know how to lay the board in his favour."

"How?"

"By putting you in a situation where you'll feel you need to say 'yes'... Because you'll feel beholden to him... that you owe him."

My brows pull together in a frown. "That sounds like coercion."

"It's statesmanship 101," he replies. "And it's a skill he's been honing since he could talk. Because that's what you need to run a country, to strike trade deals, and to keep your own allies — not to mention enemies — in line."

"And now he's using it to get me to sleep with him?" I ask in disbelief, pulling away to look up at him with wide eyes.

"No," he says quietly. "To get you to fall in love with him. So, you'll choose him willingly."

"To fall in—?" I shake my head in disbelief. "He can't seriously think that he can make me fall in love with him... Can he?"

Drake’s mouth thins into a disconcerted line as he looks away.

My eyes widen. "Oh, my God! You think he can!"

"It ain't exactly rocket science..." he mutters ruefully.

"It's not any kind of science at all!" I protest. "You can't buy or manufacture love! It's a feeling! An emotion! One that—"

"—you can elicit by creating the right conditions."

My jaw drops. "You can't be serious..."

"What do you think dating is?" he asks pointedly. "Or seduction? If you know what you're doing, it's stupidly easy to get someone to fall for you... even if they're already in love with someone else. Intelligence agents and con artists do it all the time to extract money, access, and information from their targets."

"That's despicable..."

"Maybe. But it works. Because emotions aren't rational. And can therefore be manipulated. Especially when you've got an entire kingdom at your disposal to make it happen."

I meet his gaze shakily. "What am I going to do?"

He rakes a hand through his hair. "Honestly? There's not a whole lot you can do. Apart from keeping your guard up... and praying to Christ that I'm wrong."

I nod, biting my bottom lip in an effort to keep the petrifying feeling of helplessness from overwhelming me.

I honestly thought he was just trying to help...

And maybe Christian is genuinely motivated to help me clear my name. But looking back over the past month or so, I realise that Drake could be right... and maybe there is more behind the new king’s actions than simple altruism.

I mean, out of all the possible positions as court, he decided to make me his mistress. He claimed this choice was predicated on the high level of security that I'd be granted to ensure my safety during the tour... But what if that had just been an unassailable pretext? And the real reason was that he wanted — as Drake believed — to take advantage of the implied duties that came with the role?

Duties which he hoped to manipulate me into performing in exchange for granting me a château and making me into a bone fide duchess...? Even though I'd turned him down...?

I shudder. God, I hope not...

"Hey..." Drake says softly, gathering me back against me. "I didn't mean to scare you. And like I said... I could be wrong. I just... I see the way he looks at you... the way he touches you... And I..."

"Can't help but think the worst?" I ask, burrowing into his embrace.

"Yeah..." he confirms tightly, fisting his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck, as if he was worried that I'd disappear on him. "And I'm sorry for taking it out on you... for hurting you. I didn't mean to and you didn't fuckin' deserve any of that and—"

"I know," I say, lifting a hand to his face. "This situation isn't easy for either of us. Just promise me one thing."

His hold on me tightens. "Anything."

"If something is eating at you, talk to me about it. Don't let it build up inside you like this. It's not healthy and you don't need to try and deal with everything by yourself. Okay?"

He nods hesitantly. "I'll... I'll try."

"I know you don't like to wear your heart on your sleeve," I say, stroking his cheek. "But just like you promised to be there for me, I'm here for you. In any way you need me. Even if it's just to share a stiff drink at the end of a shit day."

"Dammit, Harper..." he cusses, closing his eyes to lean into my palm with a sigh. "I don't fuckin' deserve you."

"Well, that's too bad, cowboy," I say with a smile, tilting his face towards mine. "Because you already have me."

I press my lips against his. He stiffens — as if in surprise — but in the next instant, he's got both hands tangled into my hair, kissing me fervently back, like he's been been granted a second lease on life.

I wrap my arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth as our teeth scrape against each other, both of us relieved... both of us anxious. Because even though we may have managed to nip one festering misunderstanding in the bud, we have no idea what’s coming our way next.

"I love you, Drake," I whisper against his lips, wanting to reassure him — and myself — that that can be enough to pull us through whatever challenges we've unwittingly signed ourselves up for when we decided to come back to court to clear my name.

"I love you too, Harper," he breathes, leaning his forehead against mine. "So much it fuckin' hurts sometimes."

"I know," I assure him. "And I promise to be careful and keep my guard up."

"Good girl," he approves, dropping a kiss between my brows. "And speaking of, we need to get you back. Before Bertrand uproots the whole goddamn orchard."

"Hopefully a tree falls on him in the process," I mutter dryly, extricating myself from Drake to bend down and pick up my clothes. "Oh..."

Apparently Drake had been rougher than I realised. Not only had he ripped the buttons off the back of my dress, but he'd effectively pulled the delicate material to pieces. The skirt is barely hanging together by a thread, and there are large rips in the front from where my stilettos must've gotten caught when he'd yanked me into position. Not to mention the fact that my bra had been ground into the dirt and whatever remained of my thong is nowhere in sight.

In short, nothing from my ensemble had survived our impassioned rampage in any kind of wearable state... apart from the strappy heels that I still had on my feet.

God knows what my hair and make-up look like...

"Here," says Drake, shrugging out of his blue plaid shirt to drape it around my shoulders.

"Thanks," I reply, slotting my arms through the sleeves. It’s a bit damp and musky as a result of our amorous activities, but at least it would cover my buck-ass nakedness... as long as I didn’t bend over. "Though I'm still stuck on square one... I can't exactly go back to the apple pick in this."

"Shame," he murmurs, reaching out to help me with the buttons. "'Cause I think you look hotter'n hell and half of Georgia."

"The other half of Georgia would probably beg to differ," I point out with a wry look. "As would every single pap and aristo back at the orchard."

"Then half of Georgia and every single pap and aristo needs to get their eyes checked," he declares, fisting his hands into his shirt to tug me forwards. "Because you look a hundred times better in this than that expensive dress you had on earlier."

"Was that why you shredded my clothes?" I ask him with a cheeky smile, happy to see that the last of the clouds have cleared, and he’s back to his normal, unvarnished self again. "So I'd be forced to wear your shirt?"

"Hey. It worked, didn't it?" he smirks roguishly, grabbing me by the ass to press me against him as he extracts one more hungry kiss from my lips. "Though you are probably right that this isn't the best time to make an avant garde fashion statement."

"Maybe I can give you a private show later..." I suggest as I trail a finger down his chest. "To get your... professional opinion on this season's line up?"

A low groan rattles his throat. "As long as you don't wear any fuckin' underwear."

"Where's the fun in that...?" I purr, turning away to collect the rest of my clothes from the ground... and giving him an unadulterated view of my stiletto-enhanced backside in the process.

A sharp breath escapes him. "Dammit, girl. Why d'you have to be such a relentless tease?"

"Think of it as foreplay, cowboy," I reply with a wink, throwing his own words from this morning back at him as I saunter towards the doors.

He cracks out a laugh as he falls into step beside me. "Touché, Gale. Touché."

The story continues in Chapter 14 - Comedown

A/N1: ‘Mon coeur’ means lit. ‘my heart’, but connotatively, it has the same meaning as ‘my love’.

A/N2: So, I know some people were surprised by / disapproving of Drake's behaviour in Valtoria, and I am guessing they will feel similarly about what happens in this chapter as well. However, I would like to take this opportunity to explain that his reactions in this and the preceding chapter are realistic in the context of the situation described, for the following reasons:

Christian – Christian's behaviour in the preceding chapter(s) is... questionable. Specifically, he has a habit of

making decisions about Harper without her input (e.g. sending her away at the end of the social season, putting out a press release about her becoming his mistress without her input into the timing/contents of the announcement, springing Valtoria upon her out of the blue after just one previous discussion without confirming that she was okay with the bestowal / actually wanted it done so publicly) even though the two of them are not related and are not in a relationship (as either of these two situations would help justify why he is acting on her behalf without her express consent, as bear in mind, she is not a Cordonian citizen (or a ward of the state), and he therefore has no authority to act on her behalf in that context), and

he (whether deliberately or not) has excluded Drake (the person she is in a relationship with — both personally and professionally i.e. boyfriend-girlfriend and bodyguard-principle) from that decision-making process multiple times, even though Drake has told him to stop doing this multiple times (see Drive, Chapter 5 – Sparks Fly, and Part I of Extraction).

And even if Christian's intentions are completely altruistic (i.e. he really is just trying to do best by Harper to help her clear her name) — and not, as Drake believes, win her back — he is not going about this in the most transparent way (and this has been a point of contention between him and Drake for several chapters now, where Drake has called him out for taking unilateral action without consulting him and/or Harper).

So, Drake — naturally — feels threatened by Christian's behaviour because Christian's actions point to him wanting to poach Harper away from Drake. And I say 'naturally' because if you are a guy in Drake's position, your hackles are going to go up, whether you want them to or not — it is a basic instinct.

Specifically, the whole bestowal of Valtoria is going to elicit this reaction because there is an unspoken rule between guys that you do not give gifts to wives/girlfriends that overshadow anything that their guy (i.e. the husband/boyfriend) can give them because that is going to get you decked (and I have been told this by actual guys). This is why in movies and TV shows, male partners get so incensed when they find out that their female partner has received e.g. jewellery from another man because they know that the expectation behind these gifts is that the woman will 'put out' (i.e. offer sexual favours) in return for those gifts to the other man (i.e. the gift is a precursor to / evidence of infidelity). So now multiply how a guy would feel if they found strange jewellery in their partner's possession (or similar unexplained gifts) by about a thousand and you'll get how Drake feels about Christian giving Harper Valtoria.

And I appreciate that this is not how this situation is portrayed / interpreted in canon (or in most fics), where the relationship between the three characters stays amicable, but I feel that this is more probably how the situation would play out in real life and is actually an important point that deserves to be explored in some detail because it has implications not only for Harper and Drake's relationship, but for Drake and Christian's as well.

Territoriality – I briefly touched upon this point in a previously published OTP Asks post where one of the questions was 'Are they jealous/possessive of each other?'. But, by way of summary, Harper and Drake describe each other as 'territorial'. This choice of terminology is deliberate because being territorial is not quite the same as being jealous (though jealousy probably plays a bit of role as well) because being territorial means wanting to protect that which you already have / feel is yours (i.e. a proactive reaction), whereas jealousy tends to be a passive reaction in the sense that you feel envious because someone has something that you don't (i.e. you are resenting the lack of something).

And if you think that another guy is sniffing around your mate (whom a guy will instinctively characterise as 'theirs', even though intellectually they understand that this is quite a primitive approach to take), you are going to bare your teeth because that kind of behaviour ignites your innate male protective/defensive instincts. In reflection of this, readers will notice that I used a lot of 'animalistic' terminology when I described Drake's speech/actions in this chapter (e.g. growl, snarl, feral, etc.) — this is deliberate because I am trying to convey this basic instinct reaction that he is having, and also because I HC that when Drake has sex, it is a very raw experience for both him and his partner because sex — especially with someone he cares about — is one of the ways that he expresses how he feels even (and probably especially) when he cannot quite express those feelings in words (regular readers will have hopefully picked up on the fact that Drake's vocabulary and vernacular is quite clipped (containing a lot of truncations and abbreviations for efficiency — he won't use 10 words when 1 will do), tending towards factual (rather than emotional), and if you've read Burnt and Crazy, you will know that he is not the best at expressing what is bothering him; instead, he turns inwards, tries to deal (usually with a combination of sex / exercise / drinking / punching something) until he has calmed down a bit and he can process more intellectually).

Control – I've had conversations about this point with a couple of people, but basically, the HC here is two-fold. On one hand, we know from canon that Drake feels personally responsible for the people in his life (see, e.g. his reaction to Savannah deserting him without explanation, his reasoning for sticking with Liam all this time (even though he hates court and he hates the aristocracy), and his willingness to take a bullet for MC, regardless of whether or not MC is in a relationship with him). In practice, this would mean that he would be highly sensitive to any kind of actual or perceived threat to those he cares about, and take active steps to mitigate/control these to the extent he can. Mix into this the fact that in my fic he is a Guard, and suddenly that protectiveness / need for control shoots even higher because it is literally his job to make sure that the people under his watch stay alive / stay safe.

So, when he feels like he does not have control over a specific situation — like the situation that he finds himself in with Harper and Christian, where he needs to trust that Harper will recognise what Christian is doing / trying to do and guard against it without his intervention — he is going to have a hard time accepting his powerlessness (especially since in my fic/HC this is his first real relationship since high school, so he hasn't previously had to go through this type of conflict, and would not have personal lessons to fall back on to help him manage how he is feeling).

In addition, his feeling of powerlessness is exacerbated by the fact that he feels he cannot call Christian out on his behaviour because (i) there is a power imbalance — for all intents and purposes Christian is his boss because he has ultimate oversight of the Guard, and he is the King; (ii) Drake has no definitive proof that Christian is trying to win Harper back (Christian has too much plausible deniability at this stage, so all Drake has to go on at the moment is his gut instinct); and (iii) Christian has a lot of power/influence over Harper in part because she is officially his mistress, and in part because Christian has the power (as King) to help or hinder the effort to clear her name and Drake does not want to jeopardise Harper's position (and I am planning on raising these points in the context of the story as well).

So, in summary, Drake is stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place, and for a guy like him, that's going to be hard to take and all that internal tension is going to be looking for some kind of outlet — cue the angry, BDSM sex (about which you can read more here).

Hopefully, this helps shed some light on Drake's actions/behaviour, and give readers a better understanding of where he's coming from in this situation.

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(Less Than) Noble Intentions only (let me know if you want to be added!)

@thetruthisthatiloveyou @anakjaybon-blog

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

After Anti says periods can't possibly be as bad as Jackie makes them out to be, Marvin decides to teach him a lesson and curses him to have the symptoms of one for a few days so he knows just how horrible they really are ( no blood tho ) . Anti ends up extremely self conscious around the others during this and ends up spending his time with the reader since she's the only one he feels comfortable around till the curse is over. Basically lots of tummy rubs and hair stroking till he's better.

Oof, rest in freakin’ pieces, Anti.

“This bites..” Jackie groaned as he curled up, laying his head on Marvin’s shoulder. His tired, blue eyes glanced down at the yellow pages filled with text and symbols he’d never understand. “..can’t you do anything to stop periods altogether, Marv?”

“I’m not sure,” the magician replied sadly. “Maybe but..I’d rather not risk interfering with organ functions. But this chocolate here should alleviate some of the pain.” He smiled as he handed the hero a piece of dark chocolate.

However as he went to eat it, he heard a scoff from Anti.

“Oh c’mon, hero..you’ve walked around with life-threatenin’ injuries..but this is the one thing that cripples ya? It can’t be that bad.”

Jackie glared at the demon. “You wouldn’t understand how shitty this feels. My accelerated healing may take care of those no problem..but it can’t do a damn thing about what I’m going through right now! So shut your goddamn mouth, Anti, and get off my fucking case!!” With that he turned and buried his face into Marvin’s shoulder, snuggling deeper into the blankets he was wrapped in.

“…..I still think you’re fakin’ it.”

The magician sighed, putting an arm around Jackie as he looked back down at the pages in his book. Then..he came across one spell in particular that caught his eyes.

A pain-transferring spell that is…

Looking back up at Anti, he smirked at him, before his gaze returned to the page. His fingers ghosted over the bolded text as he spoke the words on it, seeing them glow and work their magic.

After a few moments, Jackie sat up, looking at him in confusion. “Hey.. I..suddenly I don’t feel like I’ve been sucker punched in the gut a million times,” he mumbled. “Did you-?”

“GAH! WHAT THE SHIT?!!!”

The two looked over as Anti collapsed to the floor, holding his stomach. “Why the fuck does it feel like someone’s tryna rip out my internal organs?!” He glared at Marvin. “What did ya just do to me you-?!”

“Simple..I transferred the pain of Jackie’s period over to you, Anti,” he smiled as he closed the book. “He still has to deal with the blood, although you are stuck dealing with the effects of dizziness, severe cramping, and slight nausea.”

The demon stared at him, horrified. But then he scowled deeply and tried to get up, only to fall back onto the ground in pain. “L-Look…if…if this is for makin’ fun of him I’m sorry-”

“Ah, ah,” Marvin wagged his finger. “I want this to be an important lesson for you, my friend. Besides..I think Jackie finds this punishment fitting, no?” He glanced back at the hero who nodded in agreement. “So you’ll be feeling the effects for at least…a few days.”

Anti gawked at him, but before he could say anything the other egos entered the room. He gritted his teeth and tried to get up, only to cry out in pain once more. He heard Marvin explain to them what was happening, and then…he saw their smirking faces and heard their snickers.

Suddenly he felt extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed to be seen in such a weak state, so he glitched away and went to the only person he could trust.……..

You nearly jumped out of your skin as Anti suddenly appeared on your bed. But before you could say anything he flopped face first into one of the pillows, groaning loudly in pain.

“Anti what’s wrong?” You asked worriedly, setting down your phone and looking at him. He answered you, although you couldn’t quite understand him since his voice was muffled. “I didn’t catch that. What-?”

“M-Marv’s…m-makin’ me feel the effects of the hero’s dumbass period,” the demon turned his head towards you. “A-All I did was tease him about it.”

It took you a minute to process the words he just spoke to you, before you sighed and shook your head. “Well honey..you should know how sensitive he gets about that kind of thing.”

His eyes widened. “W-Wait..you…you aren’t gonna talk him into fixin’ this?? It feels like someone’s tryna fuckin’ gut me with a rusty chainsaw…dipped in acid…and on fire…”

“Marvin never casts curses with malicious intent,” you told him. “I think..this will be a valuable lesson and teach you not to harass Jackie about it…..and not to take periods lightly. On that note I don’t want you to become one of those guys that say “you’re just on your period” to excuse a woman’s anger either.”

The glitch whined softly and crawled over to you, putting his face in your lap. “B-But it hurts so fuckin’ m-much..” He whimpered.

“I know hun, I know that very well.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “But even though you were a jerk to him..that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through this alone. I’ll help you out. He…didn’t transfer the blood part did he?”

“N-No..but..thank ya for not laughin’ like those other a-assholes were..”

“Of course,” you smiled gently.…….

Later on that day, you and Anti were still on the bed. But the demon was now cuddled up to you, wrapped in a soft, fluffy blanket with a heating pad directly on his abdomen.

You removed it for a moment to gently rub his stomach, which made him hum with content and snuggle closer to you.

In that moment you saw Jackie peek into the room. “Hey,” he whispered. “How’s he handling it?”

“He’s doing alright now.” You looked at Anti, seeing his eyes were closed, indicating that the painful cramps must have subsided enough for him to sleep. 

“…you should’ve left him to deal with it on his own. Would’ve been funnier.”

“Jackie.” You frowned slightly at the hero. “We both know dealing with periods is excruciating enough. Cut him a little slack.”

“Alright, alright.” He waved his hand in defense. “But…I did talk to Marvin and we both decided that he’ll only have to put up with it until tomorrow night. He’s feeling the effects on my worst day, so it shouldn’t be so bad tomorrow.”

You nodded in understanding. “He’ll be delighted to hear that.”

“But do you think he learned his lesson?”

Humming in thought, you glanced back at the sleeping glitch, a smile appearing on your face as you stroked his hair. “Yep. I believe so.”