#and sort of 'chosen' by the leader to take over.

[prosepoetryanddrama]

Sirius Black Faces the Woes of a High School Crush (Part 2)

Part One:

https://www.tumblr.com/prosepoetryanddrama/753660868208754688/sirius-black-faces-the-woes-of-a-high-school-crush?source=share

____

Sirius had made a severe miscalculation. When he had signed his name on that dreaded sheet, he had assumed quite a few things. In his, teenage boy, mind, he had assumed that he would swagger in gracefully and take the empty seat beside Remus, sitting just a tad too close. Remus's, quite beautiful, face would heat up and he would lower his eyes with a smile. Somehow, magically, Sirius would be chosen to help Remus with Student Council activities that would really be, no work, and instead, Remus finally seeing Sirius clearly for all his charm and glory, and falling madly in love with him. 

Instead, the last two weeks had been spent staying after school to stand up on rickety ladders and staple on posters and, his lunches had once again been taken from him by tedious meetings with the headmaster to get this and that approved. 

____

He had a total of one interaction with Remus these last couple weeks. Sirius had, once again, spent his lunch break toiling like a servant. He was in an empty classroom, and had painted a huge canvas, that would be used as a backdrop for the upcoming prom, a gentle silver. By the end of the thirty minute period, he was sore, and stained silver.

Sirius remembered how Remus had walked in, a soft brown bookbag over his shoulder, and a half eaten brownie in his hand. He had unimpressed, glanced at the haphazard figure of Sirius, and the canvas.

"This is the wrong shade," he had said with a disappointed sigh before walking out.

____

There had been no after school trysts or coy smiles, pressed up against each other. That first day, Sirius had been ten minutes late and all the chairs had been taken, and he had instead stood awkwardly to the side as Remus, who did not even spare Sirius and all 6 feet of his majestic glory a single glance, droned on about permission slips and meeting times. 

But Sirius was not to be discouraged despite all his trials and tribulations. That was how he found himself, once again sacrificing his precious, dearly loved lunch block to go track down Peter Pettigrew, a fellow student who spent his lunches fraternizing with guys like Snape and Mulciber, and smoking behind the garden shed. All things that Sirius did not do.

Today though, Snape would be absent, thanks to a carefully placed stink bomb in his bag, courtesy of James, and Mulciber simply trailed after him. The fact that there were people who willingly followed Severus Snape as some sort of leader made Sirius feel a bit ill.

“Oh Pete,” Sirius called out in the most cheerful tone he could with smoke spraying in his face. 

“Sirius!” Peter scrambled up from where he was slumped against the shed wall. “ What’cha doing here?”

“I can’t come to pay a visit to friend?” Sirius said affrontedly.

Peter simply crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. For all his simpering of Sirius since they had met at the old age of eleven, and all his other rather negative traits, Peter was no simpleton. 

Knowing he had been caught, Sirius let the smile drop from his face.

He paused, then reached into his pocket to pull out a crisp note.

“I, uh, need a favour.” 

____

The stage had been set and Sirius could do nothing but marvel at his own genius. It was the next day and the bell had just rung, signalling the end of the day. All his peers around him practically floated out the door. James too, was distracted, too busy throwing pencils at the head of a first year. At this opening, Sirius simply slipped out the door. Let James believe that Sirius had simply left without saying goodbye. He would get over it. Sirius in fact, had plans to stay quite long today. 

With the help of a 50, Sirius had convinced Peter to sneak into the closet outside Principal Dumbledore's office where the Council team kept any extra supplies, decorations for school events, posters, and also, the large banner, soon to be put up near the school gates, for the upcoming prom. 

He know he should have felt at least a bit bad for getting Peter to tear the banner, but honestly, the banner had been at Hogwarts for like seventy years, reused over and over again. The nasty thing deserved it, and Sirius deserved a way to get to Remus.

The plan was that, according to Sirius’s sources, Remus was staying after school to fish out the banner and put it up. But, when Remus found the banner ripped, and would then panic as it had to be put up today, Sirius would swoop in like a knight in shining armour. He would offer to stay with Remus in the now, almost empty, school to fix it up. Then after, perhaps Sirius would offer to take Remus out for a coffee at the cafe across the street as a celebration. Remus would preen and give a thousand thanks and they would fall madly in love.

Simple.

___

Hope y'all enjoyed!

These parts are quite short but I promise there will be actual Sirius/Remus interaction soon hehe.

[wraithsoutlaws]

Honestly I'd like to ask you about the thought behind all of Dagger's design cus it's so fuckin' sick and your art is sick (I'd buy an art book of Ur art) I'm like actually slightly ignoring the ask prompt thing u reblogged so I hope you don't mind but do Dagger's tattoos have any meaning? They're all very cool and I'm going to stop talking now before I ramble about how sick (positive) your art is

aaaaaAh omg i don't mind at all this made me so happy :') thank you so much i'm!! really flattered and happy you like 'em!! there is some meaning behind some of them, and some of them are just a little silly. i've also been in the process of actually trying to fully finalize them (they've sort of been ~up in the air~ for a long time/subject to change)

his most important tattoo is the heart/snake/dagger on his torso:

i've messed with the look of it a lot. originally the dagger went straight up his torso, but i think the angled placement works a little better. the right side is still a WIP, but it's probably more in line with what i want (partially because he's /also/ supposed to have a really big "M" shaped scar that covers his torso as well, and i think it looks really messy with all these elements running vertical on him which is why it hardly makes it into my art). ANYWAY, this one is meant to signify his self-transformation into the "Dagger" persona. the heart in the middle is representative of his humanity, or who he once was as a child. the snake is who he grew into and what generally harbors a lot of his self-hatred and guilt (which is sort of another post worth of Lore so I won't go there rn), and the knife represents who he makes himself, choosing to kill the other parts of who he is and severing himself from the past (including that humanity and guilt). It's his self-made rebirth, no longer beholden to the cycles and feelings of the person he used to be. the "unkillable" beneath the handle is a newer addition, but it's just edgelord enough that i know he'd have it. in a sense, he's killed himself already and now nobody else gets the pleasure of doing so.

now the rest of his tattoos are just kinda stupid and that's why i love them.

the "FVCK" tattoo on his left arm was the first one he got and he gave it to himself stick-n-poke style when he was 16.

the abomination on the right hasn't made it into artwork yet because i'm constantly changing my mind of where i want it. most likely it's on his left shoulder blade and it's pretty self-explanatory. the man loves cigarettes. he got this one in his late teens when he was riding with a group of smugglers between texas and mexico, drunk in front of a campfire, and of course, smoking. (it's worth mentioning that i haven't gotten tattoo mods for him, and though he keeps a big portion of the vanilla tattoos on the front, none of the back piece is canon for him.)

he has a rat king on his thigh (also self-explanatory), as well as cockroach's little rat prints running up the side of his leg.

the last Definite tattoo he has is a small scorpion on his back (as reference to the scorpion and the frog. dagger's in a constant cycle of self-destruction. he's both the scorpion and the frog).

[buckets-and-trees]

EVERY MINUTE OF IT

Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x Female!Omega!Reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Claimed unequivocally by Alpha Bucky Barnes, leader of the growing HYDRA faction, that's not the end of it. But what exactly is in store for you? What will it mean to be his Omega?

Content/Warnings: omegaverse; reluctant attraction; power dynamics; mild manipulation; threats; dirty talk; explicit smut: spanking, vaginal fingering, biting, rough sex, choking, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, spitting, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse and insemination, dacryphilia, overstimulation, erotic picture taking

Author Notes: Part three to what I never planned on being a series - the Alpha Bucky April drabble was only 500 words, the next part hit 1.5k, but this... well, let's just say this Bucky absolutely had his way with both me and my muse. This one will be a make up to tick orgasm delay/denail for MARCH of @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ; and the dialogue, alpha, and pet prompts for the second week of Hot Bucky Summer (thought this was going to be a short little thing I was going to whip out before week two had finished, but alas hahaha).

A/N 2: We've seen only a bit of his rough side up to this pont, but in this part we will truly see mean Alpha Bucky. Don't say I didn't warn you - here and with the actual content warning list.

A/N 3: I tried not to write any plot with this porn, but a minimal amount forced its way in.

He had made good on his threat, using your body for pleasure and for show under the full moon until there was no one left to watch, but you were not sure he had been keeping close track, instead merely taking you over and over until they grey hours of dawn. You had been too exhausted to register anything much after that – being carried away, a car ride, being tucked into a bed.

You had woken up alone in the afternoon alone.

Alone for the first time in three days.

On hearing you make your way to the bathroom someone had brought in water and left an impressive spread of food that lasted you through the afternoon and evening. You grazed and slept.

Your body and mind had been pushed beyond all previous limits, and so the sleep and rest had been most of those first few days after the full moon and the conqueror’s bonding ritual.

But now, a week on, you are tired, restless, and impatient.

You were in a spacious penthouse, you had been offered many luxuries, well fed by a personal chef, attended to by an assistant, your only restrictions being denied access to a phone or internet and barred from leaving the premises.

Should you have chosen an unplugged retreat or vacation, it would be perfect.

After contemplating and debating internally all morning, at lunch you make your decision. You finish yet another delicious meal, wipe your mouth with the beautiful linen napkin, and then set it down next to the bone china and plated gold utensils. The staff begins to move around you, and your assistant approaches.

Before she can say anything else, you take a deep breath and say, “I need to see him.”

There’s no question of who you mean.

She nods. “I’ll make the request.”

Whether pet or prisoner and left alone for more than seven days, you do not believe your request will be seen as any sort of priority, so when you see the more formal dining table set for two for dinner, your mouth drops open for a moment, and you stop in your tracks.

You turn to your assistant – even though she tries to afford you most of your privacy, she is ever on the edge of your presence. She looks as surprised as you. “I was given no response other than that they’d take the request under consideration.”

You nod, then pace, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, until you finally hear the rustle and then commotion of activity that announces his arrival.

Your heart races, but it’s only a few more moments before the large and imposing alpha, Bucky Barnes, appears in front of you.

“Omega,” he says with a mere nod of his head, no pretense.

Your eyes narrow a fraction, wary of his seemingly easy demeanor. “Alpha.”

“Shall we?” he asks, and motions to the table.

You nod and take a seat as he does.

Within seconds, the meal is brought in by two attendants and the chef, and Bucky thanks and praises them very simply.

He occasionally looks at you, regarding you, but does not speak.

Before long, you huff, and he looks up sharply, pinning you with his steel blue eyes, harsher than at any point since he’d arrived. “What?” he demands.

“What is all of this?” you start, gesturing your hand to indicate the penthouse. “And where have you been?”

He sets down his knife and fork and straightens a little more. “Is it not to suited to your liking? You can change anything you want. This is your place.”

“My place?” you ask.

“Yes, your place. It is not far from the place I’ve taken up residence.”

The revelation is not surprising, but somehow more irritating. “And what? You’ve had me and now you’re discarding me?”

“I should have thought you’d want your own place.”

Maybe you should want your own place, away from him. And yet…

“I should be wherever you are.”

“What?” he scoffs. “So you can be embroiled in my affairs and bring me down? ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?’”

The accusation wounds you, though you know it’s only logical – and you know what you’re thinking and feeling isn’t logical. You have determined to put off thinking about it.

“I’m not your friend,” you state, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. “but I’m not your enemy either.”

“What should I call you then?” he challenges.

You raise your chin a fraction. “I’m your Omega.”

He doesn’t speak or move immediately. Instead, his eyes somehow fix you even more intently. There’s a burning in your chest under his scrutiny, but you remain still.

Finally, he stands and moves toward you, the two of you never taking your eyes off the other.

“You are my Omega.”

He comes to stand behind your chair, and you remain unmoving. He takes your chin in his left hand and tilts your head to expose your neck to him. He leans down and noses along your jaw, inhaling your scent and putting your body on alert. You feel the curling tendrils of want stir in your core, already awakening for him. He tilts your head even more and draws his teeth along the side of your throat, causing a shiver you can’t suppress, and he chuckles darkly and licks at the fresher of the two bonding marks he gave you. His hot tongue, insistently pressing at the bite elicits a small noise from you, and your right hand shoots up to card into his hair. Your full omega side wants him, has started to slicken your pussy for him already, you can feel it. You know your alpha can smell it.

He bites over the mark, but not roughly enough to break the skin, and you arch up for more, but he pushes himself back up, away from you and the crook of your neck.

“So needy,” he remarks, “I like this.”

The first few days you’d spent with him, he’d kept you full of his cock, tortured with pleasure, overwhelmed, exhausted by him and the recipient of a seemingly insatiable lust unleashed on you.

This feels like the predator is going to play with his prey, and you bite your lip. He pushes your head, tilted to the left, to the right to drop into his other hand, clearly testing your compliance. It’s gentle, but it’s dominant. Back to the left, then to the right, and then he dips to nip at your ear, and you gasp.

Bucky releases your head from between his large hands then pulls your chair away from the table. “Up.”

You stand. He puts one hand on your hip and ushers you around the edge of the table and to the side, in the middle, and turns you to face the wide expanse of mahogany and its centerpiece of fresh flowers – white peonies, white roses, white hydrangeas.

“Put your hands on the table,” he instructs.

You press the palms of your hands onto the smooth, dark wood. Your omega side is ready – even eager – to comply, but with your own long game to play, you know you must play out whatever game he desires now.

“Arch your back,” is his next direction.

Keeping your breathing even, you do, hips jutting away from the table, on display for him.

The back of his hand lands at the nape of your neck, and he drags his knuckles slowly down your spine. Your body rocks back, seeking more, as he reaches the small of your back, and he hums in self-satisfaction.

While his vibranium hand plants itself on your hip, he moves the other around to skim slowly over your stomach, then up your rib cage, and to your breast. He gropes the round flesh through your shirt and bra, but the fabric does nothing to quell how the pressure stokes the fire growing in you.

You feel the heat of him press up your back as his hand moves now up your neck, turning your head to kiss him. You push back against him, and he ruts his bulge slightly into your ass. Your lips are hungry in the kiss, but it’s like he only provided his lips for you to kiss him, receiving what your lips want to give. He moves his hand back down to your chest, but this time slipping beneath the neckline and going flesh to flesh to palm your breast. He kneads diligently, almost methodically, and you know all of this is designed to warm you up, tease you, get you burning for him. He’s still largely a stranger to you, but you also know you can’t resist him. He’s spent so much time already playing with your body. He knows where and how to touch you to make you respond to him after those first days and nights spent naked with him.

Bucky moves again, ending the kiss, drawing away from your back and removing the hand from your breast. You whine, but that hand goes to the small of your back again, the vibranium hand squeezing your hip as he forces you spine to resume the curving posture for him once more.

“We’re only getting started, Omega. Be patient.”

You huff, and he laughs.

The fingers of both his hands slip into the top of your waistband. He slowly pulls your pants and underwear down over your hips, and down your legs to mid-thigh. It restricts your bottom extremities, and that plays into the mental game he’s clearly playing with you. His hands move up the back of your naked thighs, and then palms your ass with both hands. He squeezes both cheeks, goes back to palming them again, then withdraws his right hand and slaps that cheek harshly. You jump and yelp, but he merely goes back to palming and squeezing, soothing the smacked flesh. Then another slap, and you hiss at the sting over the first sting. His vibranium hand continues groping your round flesh, but instead of soothing the second smack, his flesh hand dips down to your dripping hole, where he inserts two fingers, then quickly adds a third.

“Alpha,” you moan, and your head falls back, eyes closed both to hold back a couple of tears and to soak in the barrage of sensations.

He doesn’t answer, but his fingers continue dipping in and out, slow and shallow.

He delivers another harsh slap, immediately returns to the maddening fingering until you’re keening and trying to hump his hand.

Abruptly he grips your hips with both hands and turns you around to face him. The cool metal hand grips you by the neck, tilting your face up helplessly to him, and this kiss is messy, demanding, teeth nipping at your lips. You kiss him back as well as you can as he is in full control of your head and holds you where he wants you. Both your hands hold tightly to his forearm, and you squeeze.

His other hand goes to the cut of you again below, but there’s more fervor there this time. He plunders your mouth and plunders your pussy, and you’re losing your breath, but you have no wish for him to relent as you feel the powerful orgasm you crave building and barreling towards you. His fingers curl against the spongy spot on your inner wall, this thumb is demanding against your pulsing clit, and his tongue is licking dominantly into your mouth. You’re trembling and clutching at him, moaning, only when your breath hitches, inches away from bliss, he pulls back.

You cry out as he looms over you. His smirk is cruel, and his eyes spark with fire.

“Alpha!”

He licks his one of his fingers, just one.

“Alpha, please,” you groan.

“My well-mannered Omega,” he coos. “We’ll make a mess of you yet,” he says. You’re unsure whether it’s a threat or a promise, but you have no space or time to think as he moves you again, hoisting and pushing you by the grip on your chin around and away from the table until your back is flush against the wall.

Bucky pushes you down to your knees, pinches your mouth open, then spits on your tongue. "Swallow it."

You don’t think, just swallow as his eyes bore into yours as he towers over you.

He strokes his thumb over your cheek – nearly a caress, and you can’t help leaning ever so slightly into his touch. Then his thumb moves from your cheek to your lips, tracing them before pressing down to open your mouth again. He inserts two of the fingers that had been in your cunt into your mouth, and you close your mouth and begin to suck without him having to say so. The look on his face shows his approval. As you suck, there’s something so soothing about, the weight of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, the stead rhythm, that it that lulls you even further into a state of submission for him. Your eyes begin to droop.

He chuckles and withdraws his fingers, wiping them on your face. “Don’t want that so soon in our evening.”

He begins to unbuckle his belt, and you reach for the button and zipper, but he bats your hands away and slaps your cheek.

You look up sharply at him, reaching to soothe your cheek.

“Ask nicely for your Alpha’s cock, Omega.”

His first nights with you were about physical domination. This is the other half, yielding, submission.

You think best how to ask, before saying, “Please let me put my lips around your cock, Alpha.”

He unbuttons his trousers but keeps his eyes on yours. “Tell me how you want me to use your mouth, Omega,”

“I…” you bite your lip. You aren’t a stranger to sex, but speaking so directly about it isn’t something you’ve done with any of your partners in the past.

Bucky lowers the zipper. He pushes the band of his boxers down far enough to free his cock, and you whimper. He fists his arousal slowly. “You want it, then tell me what you want exactly. You’ve already let me use your body in so many ways, we both know you want more. What are you craving?”

You wait only another beat before answering, “Want you to fuck my throat.”

You are impressed at the evenness of your own tone in that moment, and his lips tick up as well.

Bucky widens his stance, then leans down to wrap his left arm around your head, holding it – almost cradling it – in the crook of his elbow. The he pushes his cock to your lips, you open for him, he pushes in, and starts truly fucking your mouth. The first few thrusts are slow, but insistent. He fills your mouth with more of him with each of those first thrusts. Then the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. He thrusts out and in again, again, again. His other hand strokes your cheek. Then he slaps it, and you groan around his cock.

“Mmmm, fuck you feel good,” he echoes your groan. “Gonna take all of your alpha’s cock down this pretty throat,” he says, and his hand moves down to your neck, feeling himself push in there.

Your eyes are tearing up, and the tears quickly start to spill over as he continues to use your throat, never removing himself completely now that he’s overtaken your mouth. He slaps your cheek twice in quick succession and you sob around his cock as you can manage. It’s hard to breathe, and your chest heaves. You brace yourself against his thighs, and he straightens and pulls out of you.

Bucky moves quickly, taking you by the shoulders and tossing you into the middle of the floor – rough but not violent.

“Clothes off,” he barks, but it’s he didn’t need to employ an alpha command to get you to comply. You barely have enough time to discard your pants and underwear the rest of the way, and only manage to get your shirt over your head in the time it takes him to get naked.

He’s on you the next instant, covering your body with his. With his chest pressed down against yours, you feel how his breathing is just as heavy as your own, glad he’s not as unaffected as he’s tried to play this encounter.

You hitch your thighs up around his torso and squeeze your knees around him.

But he doesn’t give you what you’re most anxious for yet, instead pausing to study your face.

“Such a pretty mess,” he admires.

Heat pulses through your body, his praise undeniable to your omega side.

He dips his head to lap up the salt of some of your tears, tongue dragging slowly up your cheek. When he draws back again, he merely looks at you. His eyes seem to be looking for something, but you don’t know what. You try not to give him anything outside of this moment.

His pelvis is lodged between your hips, so you squirm beneath him, hoping your hot, dripping cunt will call him back to your pressing needs. He groans and drops his forehead to yours, another sign he’s not as cool and detached as he was at the outset.

“Please, please fuck me, Alpha,” you beg.

“Fill you up with my cock? With my seed?”

“Yes, Alpha!”

He draws his hips back and you reach down and help line up his cock with your hole. He spears in with no mercy, and you don’t need or want it. You groan together as he fills you completely.

Your mouths meet again, and it’s a combination of rough messy kisses, nipping and bites, licking, mingled heavy breaths. It’s primal and unhinged, and there’s no thought to it as he continues to fuck you.

The pace at which he thrusts is relentless and just what you need, but also not enough.

You want more and you whimper and beg through kissing for it.

Bucky continues fucking you and pulls away from your lips, but in no way is he done overwhelming you. Leaning heavily onto his vibranium arm planted next to your head, he moves his other arm and presses his inner wrist up and down your neck insistently. The sound that escapes your mouth is broken and needy as the flooding of his scent directly In and around you engulfs your senses. Then he’s also sucking on your original bonding mark until you are a heaving, panting, crying mess, clawing at his back, unable to even put coherent words together to beg for him.

His shifts just enough that his pubic bone grinds down against your clit as he pounds into your pussy. You are practically vibrating with the impending orgasm, and as your alpha can undoubtedly sense that through the bond, he bites down on your mark, and you scream and fly into your release. Your walls clench hard around him, and he growls through two more powerful thrusts before he shouts, and you feel the heat of his seed star to fill you up. He pumps and pumps until he’s left every drop he can inside of you, then collapses on top of you.

He doesn’t move, pressing you down with all his weight as you both recover from the ecstasy you’ve just experienced. You almost move to stroke your fingers up and down his spine, but you quell that impulse. You do allow yourself to keep your hands on his back though – still, but connected to this man, your alpha, who dealt you such rough but undeniable pleasure.

Finally, Bucky pushes up off you, but surprises you when he scoops you up and carries you away bridal style, heading toward your bedroom.

“Alpha?”

“You really want to live under the same roof?” he asks.

 “Yes,” you answer simply.

He glances down at your face, brows furrowed, then looks back ahead as he heads down the hallway.

“Okay then.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he affirms, entering your room.

He tosses you onto the bed, and crawls up over you again. He reaches beneath your back to unclasp your bra, and you let him pull it from your shoulders and toss it off to the side. Closing the gap between your bodies, you relish the feeling of his bare chest against yours, his chest hair teasing your nipples. He grips your chin yet again, this time with his vibranium hand, and looks into your eyes with a steely, cold stare.

“If you’re anything other than the good omega I require, I will send you back here, but it won’t be like this last week has been. You will be in absolute exile. Don’t test me – there will be no chances.”

You give a single nod of your head.

He pushes up and leans back then, kneeling above you.

“But you don’t want to jeopardize or risk that, do you?”

“No, Bucky.”

It’s the first time you’ve called him anything other than alpha and he clocks that, you see the flash of acknowledgement in his eyes.

“You want to be with your alpha, you want the limited freedom you know I can give you if I choose to, but you also have your own agenda”

It wasn’t a question, and you know you can’t fool him – you know he is too smart for that, and you know he knows you are intelligent in your own right. He made it clear when he closed in on your people’s territory that’s why your compliance and claiming you as his omega was part of the deal of surrender to spare any more bloodshed.

“Cross me and your future will only be visitations when I require you to service my ruts.”

You don’t doubt his threat.

“Do we have an accord, Omega?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The words you two exchanged the fateful night of that initial surrender.

He nods.

“It seems fitting to seal it by kiss.”

You sit up and then kneel before him on the bed, he bends his head down to kiss you. It’s fervent, solemn, but he cuts it off before it develops into anything more.

“Stay here,” he orders, sliding off the bed.

That was an alpha command – wholly unnecessary except to remind you of his power.

You scowl at his retreating form, then huff once he’s out of the room.

He’s quick, and when he comes back in the room, he is slowly stroking his cock with one hand, and holds his phone in the other. He steps up to the edge of the bed.

“A kiss here, as well,” he says, pushing his hips forward.

You crawl to him, lower your head, and kiss his cock. He nods at you, indicating he expects more. You take the tip of his semi-hard cock into your mouth, lave your tongue around the tip, and then suck, looking up at him. He takes a few photos, moaning at your ministrations.

“Fuck you couldn’t look more pretty and more ruined,” he whispers. He tosses the phone down, then pushes you off him and back onto the bed, manhandling your hips to get you planted in the center of the mattress with your thighs splayed open obscenely.

“Only fair for me to finish sealing the agreement and kiss these lips as well.”

He dives in like a man starved, despite the rounds you’ve just finished. He pulls your next orgasm quickly from your fluttering pussy. You would be surprised, only you’ve come to accept that he has already acquired a dangerous – and delicious – knowledge of your body.

He looks up at you and grins and then goes in immediately for another.

You try and push him away and close your legs, feeling overstimulated, but he growls and roughly forces your thighs open again.

“Your one chance of being my good omega is already begun. So, you’re going to let me eat the pussy that belongs to me until you’re a sobbing overstimulated mess and think you can’t possibly take any more, but you will. And since this should be the last night we ever spend in this bed, when I’ve had my fill of lapping at your sweet, dripping cunt, I’m going to see if I can’t fuck you hard and long enough to break the bed.”

You can only hope your gamble to deal with the devil of HYDRA will not be your undoing.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Everyone check your pulse, please. Mine is gone.

I'm not saying this is officially a series, but I think we HAVE fallen into a collection territory... Unless y'all are through with this Alpha Bucky...

[ancuninfiles]

Comfort Pt 1. (Revised)

Screenshot by @astarionposting

6.4k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Named Tav (Nym) - 18+

I have recently heavily revised this chapter. Since working with @gelican-gelicant, I've learned a lot about writing and I'm proud to share this with you. Still, this chapter has not been beta-read, but I don't think it's a requirement. I'm hoping that those who've been scared away from Comfort™ will give it a second chance, now that the first chapter has essentially been rewritten. Please, feel free to let me know what you think in the comments! :) Thanks!

Work summary: Nym, a wood-elf, finds herself thrust into leadership of a ragtag crew. From day one she is overwhelmed by the sudden responsibility. She seeks solace and unexpectedly finds herself drawn to the tent of a pale elf. In the intimacy of their encounter, they both ponder the potential for mutual comfort and connection amidst the chaos of their new journey.

OR

Chapter summary: Nym the Wood Elf finds herself Wild-Shaped in the pale elf's tent, though he is unaware of the strange druid that he's accidentally invited into his dwelling. As they inadvertently share secrets, they discover solace and connection in each other's embrace.

Tags: Smut and Fluff, Druid Tav, Soft Astarion, P in V sex, Oral (female receiving), Wood elf Tav, Blood drinking, Vampire bites, Choking, Light BDSM, Soft dom Astarion, Tav is autism-coded, Creampie, Aftercare, Astarion is a dork

MASTERLIST (Other chapters and works)

Read on AO3 (recommended)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚

It was a brisk night in Faerün, and the crisp gentle breeze that whisked through the camp caused the walls of Nym’s tent to expand and contract, almost as if it were alive. 

She had gained allies, fellow victims of Mind Flayer parasites, and inexplicably, on the very first day of this ordeal, they had chosen her as their leader, though she couldn’t fathom why.

Nym was chronically indecisive, often unsure even about simple choices, such as which berry to use for jam. Consequently, every jam she made ended up as a mixed-berry concoction.

Over the day, a pounding headache had begun to possess her, and she did not know if this sudden affliction was caused by the unwanted parasite in her brain or the recent stress of her gratuitous position at the helm of her freshly instituted cohort. 

"Silvanus, save me," she whispered to herself in quiet prayer as she sat in her tent with folded legs that teetered repetitively with pent-up nervousness. 

Nym, ever avoidant, attempted to sort through the folds of her mind, searching for ways to quell her anxious streak.

Make tea? Read a book? Take a warm bath?

But they possessed no tea nor books, and certainly no hot spring.

Nym groaned, carding her fingers through her hair and tugging at her scalp. Whatelsewhatelsewhatelse? Come on, think, she pressed -

Although . . .

Nym was hit with a sudden recollection, one of when she was just a young girl seeking solace away from others.

My cat Wild Shape, she mused.

In the stream of her consciousness, Nym caught glimpses of memories where she pranced on four furry legs, finding solace within the hollows of rotten logs - far removed from the dramas of her people both physically and spiritually.

She doubted that if she were to Wild Shape into a cat and slip into the woods, her newfound acquaintances would even notice her absence; and if they did, she also doubted they would care.

Perfect, Nym thought.

She was resolute in her plan: Slink away for an hour or so. Nym felt confident that she’d be able to avoid any responsibilities, if only for a night.

Cautiously exiting her tent, she slid on her sandals and made her way into the woods, deliberately avoiding any twigs that might find their way between her toes, knowing that the sensation of such a mishap would surely trigger a paroxysm of discomfort within her.

"Argh," she fumed. As if the universe had read her mind and was out to get her, sap found its way into her sandals, and - like clockwork - was sending her teetering over the edge of sanity. 

In a rage, Nym’s form became arcane, ripping and contracting violently to suit her new cat shape.

Settling into her brown fur-covered body, Nym’s ears twitched at the high-pitched sounds caused by the bristling branches and whistling wind. These sounds, which would normally calm her frayed nerves, now caused her to vehemently tense her muscles and clench her sharp-toothed maw, unbidden.

Stepping out of her clothes, which pooled at her feet on the dirt-covered forest floor, she gingerly trekked back toward camp. 

Surely none of her companions would find it strange to see a cat wandering around the camp. In fact, they would probably just assume she was looking for scraps or hunting for fish down by the river.

As she reached the tree line, she observed that everyone was either gathered around the fire or nestled inside their tents. Grateful for the solitude, she made her way toward the flickering flames, her path taking her past the pale elf's opulent red tent. 

She couldn't remember his name. Aster? Asherion? Hmm, she pondered.

He had an air of slight menace, yet his charm couldn't be denied, she reflected. With seemingly a repertoire of sardonic quips at his disposal, he was frequently armed and ready to defuse tension with a well-timed barb, a quality she found rather admirable.

Individuals like him were invaluable in social settings, Nym believed. Her own tendency to feel self-conscious often left her at a loss for words, making her grateful for those adept at breaking the silence and easing the tension. 

Gods, it helps to have someone silly with a dark sense of humour to be idiots with. 

She wondered if he felt the same way and envisioned them becoming friends, hoping that his presence could alleviate the weight of the horrors they were sure to face; courtesy of the tadpoles nestled happily within their craniums.

She was only mere steps from the crackling fire when she heard a mouse-like sound, summoning her to look back.

To her utter surprise, it was the white-haired elven man, holding his hand out, and rubbing his thumb on his fingers in offering. The look on his face was relaxed with eyes that were slightly widened, contrasting with his otherwise composed expression.

"Psspsspsspsspsssss," the pale elf made the one sound that Nym couldn't resist in her cat form.

Hypnotized by the gesture of his digits and the sound of his call, Nym's feline pupils blew wide, expanding to consume most of her golden irises. Bringing her body tight to the ground, she stalked towards the white-haired elf's tent. 

Against her better judgment, she crawled closer to his hand, salivating as she sped up. Finally, she pounced on his hand and wrist, capturing it in a fighter’s hold, ferociously nibbling at his wrist and kicking his hand with her hind legs.

"Ah ah - we ask before we bite," he said, disarming her before gently scratching her soft, fluffy tummy. 

Unlatching, she slumped into a purring puddle of fur and slowly closed her eyes as she leaned into the relaxing sensation of his touch.

The grinning elf scooped her onto his lap and into his tent. "You are a very cuddly kitty," he cooed.

He began to pet her, starting at her armpits and making his way up to her fuzzy onyx chin. He rubbed her belly when she rolled over, and even scratched and patted the base of her tail when she rolled back onto her tummy. 

Periodically standing up on his lap, she would stretch her front paws up to his chest and nudge his chin with her head.

During her unexpected detour into the stranger’s tent, never once had it crossed her walnut-sized mind that it might be a poor decision, nor a lapse in judgment - no - her focus was solely on the way he tenderly caressed her; blessing her with the comfort that she had yearned for all night. The feeling enveloped her, possessing her mind as if she were a meagre thrall, obedient to its master's every command.

The cat-loving elf showered her with affection for several minutes before relenting; only then did Nym curl up into a ball on his hard, marble chest, peacefully trancing and purring.

She relaxed blissfully, slowly kneading at his chest with her toes and claws, thoughtlessly accepting all of the pets that the gentle pale elf offered.

"Oh kitty, I’ve had a terrible day, you wouldn't believe it,” he whispered, "your snuggles are the highlight of my evening."

He poked her wet nose with a precise, feather-light touch, causing her to twitch her head briefly before settling back comfortably on his chest.

"Do you think people will understand if I bite like you do?" He asked in his most hushed tone yet. "Will people think I'm cute if I bite like you? Gods I'm starving." He threw his unoccupied hand to his face, cupping his nose before dragging it down to his chin, stretching the skin in his wake.

The sound of his hand abruptly making contact with his face, and his odd question stirred Nym from her trance. If I bite like you do - okay? Odd. But then - Gods I'm starving? She pondered his words critically. 

Still snuggled up on his chest, she tucked her paws under herself and purred a quiet rumble, contemplating with a person-like capacity for the first time since entering his vermillion candlelit tent.

What an odd thing for one to say. Is he a cannibal? Like the Bhaalspawn type?

She sniffed to test her theory, but his fresh scent of bergamot and rosemary led her to conclude that he was indeed not a Bhaalspawn. What she had read about Bhaalspawn had taught her that a lingering diluted stench of rot always accompanied them.

She quizzed herself, questioning what other creatures consumed the flesh or blood of humanoids, considering zombies or hags; however, upon examining the flawless complexion of the man beneath her, she realized that her hypotheses were impossible. 

A vampire? No way. He was in the beating sun when we’d met, and he would’ve been ash before I even got there if that were the case; although . . . 

She peered down at his face, looking for what she knew to be the tell-tale signs of a vampire: red eyes, pale skin, and sharp teeth.

Standing on his hard chest, she noticed his eyes were closed. 

Despite his peaceful expression, she felt it necessary to disturb his rest - if not to confirm her suspicions, then to set her curious mind at ease.

Ghosting her whiskers over his lips, she successfully stirred him from his evanescent trance

"Oh, kitty - you are so sweet," he squeaked, blinking and sitting up before Nym could properly inspect his irises.

The handsome man set her down beside him and stretched his arms, first grasping one elbow and then the other, accompanied by a bend of his torso.

Standing in the pale elf’s blankets, she peered up to his candlelit face which, much to her dismay, bore two garnet-coloured eyes.

Well - if he doesn't have fangs, he could be part drow

Without missing a beat, he flashed her a toothy grin, revealing his long, sharp canine teeth.

The sudden realization caused panic to surge through her; if what she knew of the Vampyre held true, the beautiful elven man would surely make a meal of her.

Arching her back, Nym’s fur stuck straight out in all directions.

The stranger did not notice, for he was gazing in the other direction.

"Well kitty, time for me to start getting ready to rest," he said with a smile as he took off his night-shirt, exposing his toned muscles that rippled under lightly freckled ivory skin. His thumbs slid under the waistband of his breeches, making his next move all too clear: he was going to remove his trousers.

Nym wasn't the most socially aware, but she knew it was exceedingly inappropriate to gaze upon someone's nude form without their knowledge; an act known as peeping, she recalled, remembering a passage she’d read on the topic once before.

Just as he was readying himself to stand and pulling his pants past his hip bones, Nym panicked and, on impulse, arcanely ripped herself back into her regular humanoid self.

She had dismissed her Wild Shape, leaving her bare-bodied and trembling before the half-naked vampire. 

They both screamed, their voices overlapping, before instinctively moving to cover each other's mouths with their hands. Then, a heavy silence descended as they locked eyes, both filled with terror.

"What was that? Is everyone okay?" Yelled the wizard from his tent.

The pale elf vehemently tore Nym’s hand from his mouth. "Yes, Just practicing for the opera!" He yelled while rolling his eyes before looking at her with downward-canting brows, a deep frown painting his face.

"I see. Maybe save it for tomorrow instead of waking everyone at camp, thank you," spoke the wizard once more.

Nym couldn't help but giggle under his palm; perhaps her worry was all for naught, as his playful fib toward the wizard had served to remind her of the lighthearted demeanour he'd shown all day.

Suddenly becoming too aware of her nudity, she pulled away from his palm, hugging her knees to her chest. She would have rather planned to be naked in front of him; instead, she’d transformed and had yet to learn how to do so while maintaining her clothed state.

"Can I - er - have that blanket for a moment, please," Nym asked, shyly.

The pale elf scoffed. "Fine, but only because I am such a gentleman - Godsdamned druids." He gave her the blanket and she prudently draped it over her shoulders and around her knees.

"I - um - I'm really sorry," she apologized, her gaze falling and her cheeks blushing with embarrassment.

The handsome elf pinched his brow ridge between his finger and thumb, closing his eyes and scrunching his face in a scowl. "Why did you let me go on for so long, believing you were a real cat?"

As he spoke, Nym looked at him, but when she began to ponder the answer to his question, her gaze fell once more. 

"I guess it's just that when I Wild Shape, sometimes the instincts of whatever animal I turn into take over me; like I'm not in control," she explained, "You summoned me with your - bewitching gestures and sounds.” Her face screwed up as she recalled his actions.

The pale elf covered his face with both hands as if trying to hide his embarrassment. "Oh, Gods - save me for once. Please just this once."

Witnessing his expression, Nym felt a pang of guilt; nevertheless, as the leader, she knew she had to be open with him about her conclusions on his vampiric affliction. Still, her resolve warred with embarrassment, causing her already poor communication skills to fray ever so slightly.

"I - er - heard what you said about biting and what-not," Nym said, pushing past her nervousness, "And your eyes! Your teeth - well. . . Also, I forgot your name; what was it again? Asherton?"

He ran both hands through his hair, gripping his scalp as his eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened, fixed on the tent floor. 

"This isn't happening," he said, voice cracking, "No - this isn't real. I must be having a nightmare or - something." 

Nym internally scrutinized his frantic demeanour, her frustration mounting as she sensed her words falling on deaf ears. "Rah,” she groaned, “I said I'm sorry and it's okay that you're toothy and bitey," she snipped.

For some reason, she felt oddly comfortable around this man - this creature - who could easily rip her throat out.

He breathed deeply, sighing on the exhale. "Astarion."

"A'staring at what? I'm sorry - I'll look away," said Nym, turning her head sideways, hoping to make him feel more comfortable.

"No, you blubbering idiot. That's my name - my name's Astarion," he quipped.

"Oh - uh - so can I look at you or not?" She asked him in earnest.

"If a wall were nearby, I would smash my head against it," Astarion confided.

"Why would you do that?” Nym prodded, looking at him quizzically.

Astarion stared daggers at her, mouth agape and brows knitted together.

. . . 

A pregnant silence blanketed the duo, stirring unease within Nym.

"I should go,” she professed, readying herself to stand and pinching his beige blanket together near her décolleté.

As she turned to his tent flap, she felt a cool hand grasp her arm, engendering her to look back.

˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚

"Wait!" Astarion pleaded.

By the time the word left his mouth, it had been too late to mask the desperation in his tone.

Seeking reparation, Astarion intentionally lowered his volume. "Look - I just need more details on what you found out about me," he spoke with a serious intonation, tilting his head down and gazing up at her through his eyelashes.

Nym turned to face him, still draped in his taupe blanket like a cloak. "Oh - well... I might have concluded that you’re a vampire, but it confuses me that you can walk in the sun." Her words tumbled out quickly, driven more by her curiosity than by fear of the monster before her.

As Astarion forced a smile, he expelled a sigh tinged with frustration.

"Ah - okay, glad we've cleared that up. Now, is there any chance that you could keep those pretty little lips of yours shut about this specific topic with the others? I would much rather broach the topic myself," he said, letting go of her forearm. 

She blinked rapidly, as if trying to process his words, her expression shifting from confusion to mild offence. 

"I wasn't planning on telling anyone,” she reassured, her voice softening with each word. “I have the feeling that you're not dangerous; well - not dangerous to us at least."

"What?" His eyes widened in mock horror. "I'll have you know I am very dangerous, actually." He smiled, the corners of his lips twitching with amusement.

"I know! That’s not what I mean, though. I’m realizing that I think you wouldn’t hurt me; am I correct?" Nym asked, only somewhat fearing what the answer might be.

Astarion pursed his lips to the side and held his chin in thought. "Hmm." 

Releasing his chin, he scanned Nym’s form, his eyes roving up her body and then landing on her face. This could be an opportunity, he thought.

In an instant, he turned on his charm, honed over two hundred years of courting partners to bring back to his master in Bladur’s Gate.

Flashing her a roguish grin, he started, "Not unless you want me to," he said before leaning in close to Nym, his lips nearly brushing on her ear, "darling."

His last word was spoken like an enchantment, sending a pleasant chill down her spine and causing her to shiver, unbidden.

Nym froze in place, her face reddening deeply. "I'm not quite sure what you mean by that," she exclaimed.

"I recall you biting me without asking, dear." He snaked his right hand to the back of her head, fingers gently running through her hair. "Do you remember what I told you?"

Nym gulped and gazed at his handsome, pale face, mere centimetres from hers - her heart beating quickly as if she were merely a rabbit in the jaws of a sly fox. Despite her increased heart rate, she instinctively held her breath as he toyed with her locs. "To ask before I bite," she said, unsure if she was about to become his meal or his lover.

"Good girl. Now - it would only be right of me to follow my own rules, correct?" Astarion’s voice resonated in a low tenor, his eyes fixed on her expression as he gingerly massaged the back of her scalp.

Relieved, Nym's head lolled back into his tender touch. 

"Mmmyeah," the words spilled from her lips like a moan.

Astarion leaned in once again, this time ghosting his lips on her throat beneath her ear and bringing his unoccupied hand to the small of her back, nudging her closer. "So - what do you say? May I? I only need a taste - I swear," he purred into her neck.

"You can do whatever you want with me if you keep touching me like that." Entranced by his decadent ministrations, the pale elf had disarmed her yet again.

Whatever I want? He thought, pulling away and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Darling - are you sure about this? We might get carried away, and we've only just met."

Astarion thought that she might allow him to drink from her; his charm rarely failed him, but he didn’t expect her to offer her body as well. A pleasant surprise, considering that he’d fantasized about taking her on the cliffside when they’d just met. The way her bottom squirmed against his groin while he held a dagger to her throat, and the scent of her blood blooming beneath the surface of the skin on her neck was enough to cause his length to strain against his smallclothes.

“Among my people, such matters hold little importance,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll gladly partake if that’s what you desire; though I may still yearn for it even if you don’t, but that doesn’t mean that you must—” He silenced her with a finger pressed to her lips, and she gazed up at him, eyes wide with surprise.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?" He asked, aiming for straightforwardness.

Her speech was muffled by the digit pressed to her lips. "Yes, actually. Usually, they say that I talk too much, but—" Suddenly, Astarion’s lips met hers in a bruising kiss, silencing her once again. He seized the back of her neck and drew her close as he ascended to his knees, looming over her and dominating her mouth.

Nym whined small sounds of pleasure into his mouth as he pulled her taut to his chest, causing the blanket to fall from her shoulder ever so slightly.

With a pop, he broke the kiss, licking his lips as he studied her expression. 

Her heavy-lidded eyes met his, and her lips were reddened from their kiss.

"You know. . . I rather like you, my dear," he said, holding her closely. "Now - how about we make ourselves comfortable."

Astarion released her and gestured to his bedroll.

"Oh - Yes," she answered, carelessly dropping the blanket covering her and crawling hastily to his suggested destination. 

She hesitated. "Wait - how do you want me?"

He felt a rush in his lower abdomen that made his growing cock twitch."My sweet - if you wouldn't mind lying beneath me, I would be delighted. It will also help when I'm drinking from you; we wouldn't want you toppling over, would we?"

"Right." Nym nodded curtly and positioned herself on the bedroll, still sitting.

Astarion mounted her with a fervent kiss, coaxing her downwards and parting her thighs with his knee. Pushing her legs up to expose her core, he positioned himself fully between her legs, only breaking their kiss to sit back on his knees and take her in. 

He stared at her with adoration as he appreciated the shape of her body.

Despite getting on his nerves earlier, he respected her openness and willingness to confess her discovery. Her promise to keep his secret was likely crucial to his survival, and he desired her loyalty, giving him another reason to seduce her and gain her support.

Additionally, he couldn't help but admit to himself that her playful demeanour was extremely endearing; it wasn't often that he would meet someone charming in the way that Nym was.

He desperately wanted her blood; not only because he craved it physically, but also because of the assurance it would provide that he was free from Cazador's compulsion at last.

But then, he yearned to make her come undone beneath him; to feel her quivering around his length and hear her whimper his name in ecstasy; surely for no other reason than to stroke his ego, he reflected as his member strained uncomfortably against his strays.

Nym lay comfortably exposed, her arms resting beside her head while her chest rose and fell with anticipation. Trusting him came intuitively, as she bared her most vulnerable parts to this man who, just moments ago, still felt like a stranger.

They had only met that day, and now, in the quiet of the night, while everyone else slept, they were about to become one. 

Squeezing her thighs, Astarion placed his face at her core, his breath teasing her quim. 

Reading her face, he witnessed her wet, pleading eyes.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he asserted.

"Of course," she managed to say despite her desirously clouded mind.

"Perfect," Astarion cooed. 

He began his plot, licking a thick stripe through her folds and kissing her clit, causing Nym to throw her head back as she moaned. 

Her sounds encouraged him to start toying with her clit with his tongue. 

She arched her back and bucked wildly onto his tongue, but he held her down to regain control and she groaned through gritted teeth. 

He removed his mouth, replacing his tongue with a digit as he stroked her inner walls languidly. 

“Careful dear, I have sharp teeth," he warned. "Be a good girl and try to hold still."

"Mhm," was all she could manage to say as she clenched around his finger. 

He continued his oral ministrations, groaning into her clit as he sucked on it mercilessly which sent waves of pleasure through her body; although not quite enough to fully satisfy her.

"I need more - please," she pleaded.

Needing no further invitation, he added a second finger to her hole, causing her pelvis to squirm and wanton sounds to spill from her lips.

Curling his fingers, he pumped into her at a consistent pace while lapping up her clit. 

The tips of his digits stroked up into her sweet spot, sending her teetering over the edge. 

Glancing down at Astarion, she carded her fingers through his moon-coloured curls.

The muscles in her legs tensed as she felt a rising energy in her core. "I'm cumming, Astarion!" She screamed as her orgasm crested, her voice echoing throughout the camp.

He continued fucking her with his hand and torturing her oversensitive nub as she rode out her climax.

Flooded with searing pleasure, she sought reprieve. "Ah - too much!" She hissed. 

"Good girl, you are so good at following instructions," Astarion purred, crawling to meet her lips in a brief and tender kiss.

"I'm surprised you remembered my name, darling. I'm impressed," he jested before pushing down his pants just enough to free his large member which rested heavily on her soaking cunt.

She let out a huff of air as she felt his length weigh on her bud. “I certainly don't have the will to protest you right now," she retorted, lying breathless.

Astarion staggered his elbows on either side of her torso, studying her features again; this time, his gaze reflecting not just curiosity, but also a subtle hint of confusion, as if grappling with the capricious nature of his own actions rather than their usual conniving intent.

"Mm - you can stare if you want, but—" She wriggled her hips, teasing his cock.

He choked out a moan, his mouth forming an “O”.

"Oh, you cheeky little pup," he crooned.

"I remember you calling me 'kitty', actually," she teased, smirking.

"You’ll pay for that,” he growled as he reached for his shaft and aligned himself with her core, grinning whilst prodding at her tight entrance with the tip of his cock.

She expelled a high-pitched moan, her face twisting into a needy expression.

Slowly entering her while she twirled her hips sensually, he felt her wetness tightening around him.

Head lolling forward, he eased into her with little effort until he was fully buried to the hilt and his tip kissed her cervix snugly, causing him to choke out an undignified groan.

She enthusiastically shifted her legs up above his arms, her feet dangling in the air above him. 

He began with a painfully languid pace, whining in tandem as their lips connected in a passionate, messy kiss. 

Their tongues danced around each other's mouths, fighting for dominance as he unhooked one of her legs from his arm and grabbed her cheeks, roughly prying her mouth open further; consequently, her nethers contracted around him.

Ever perceptive, he recognized this before pulling his mouth from hers. "Does the little druid like it rough?" He teased.

"Uhuh," she whined. "Can you choke me - please?" She pleaded with moist, batting eyes, her upward-canted brows reading as desperation on her freckled face.

He groaned excitedly at her lewd suggestion, a sly grin painting his face. 

Hearing her desire stirred something within him, prompting him to contemplate his incessant longing for control, freedom, and dominance; concepts that melded together in his mind as if it were a swirling brew - both saccharine and intoxicating.

"Deep breath, my dear," he instructed while thrusting into her consistently.

Nym took a deep breath, making her experience on the matter clear. 

Astarion grasped the sides of her throat firmly, causing her quim to quiver violently around his cock.

"What a good little druid, you are," he purred.

He began to rut into her punishingly, using his grip on her throat to thrust with uninhibited force as he rhythmically pulled and pushed her on and off of his length. 

He straightened the arm that was at her throat, parting his torso from hers and placing his unoccupied hand on her clit where he rubbed taut circles.

Nym's face became a darker red than her typical blush; evidence of the lack of oxygen reaching her brain. 

Her leg muscles showed the impending signs of an orgasm while her back arched off the bedroll, but he slammed into her throbbing cunt and circled her bud remorselessly. He basked in the control that had been gifted to him; no - the control he took of his own volition. 

She choked out his name, crying in pleasure as she came with his hand around her throat. 

He continued toying with her clit as he removed his hand from her neck, the flush on her skin beginning to fade ever so slightly, being freed from his grasp.

While she rode out her climax, he hooked her right leg over his left shoulder, hovering closer to her throat and blithely pulling her head to the side with a strong grasp of her cheeks.

He sunk his fangs into her flesh, only removing his hand from her cheeks to cavalierly grab at the hair on the back of her head.

With a low tenor, he groaned deeply into her neck, fucking her with a faltering pace, signifying his escalating pleasure.

Her delectable blood pooled into his mouth, enrapturing him with its ambrosius flavours.

Whimpering softly, Nym wriggled on his growing cock in an attempt to escape the abuse on her clit. Thankfully, Astarion freed her bud from his tortuous touch - seemingly as a result of her body language. 

Nym carded her fingers through his soft white curls encouragingly, relishing in its silken texture and herbaceous scent. 

Sifting through her recollections, she recognized that the elven man whose fangs were piercing her flesh was undeniably the most beautiful she had ever bedded. This was no small feat, considering her many previous lovers, sometimes in pairs or more, all of whom had been remarkably attractive. 

Although somewhat painful for a moment, letting him sup from her felt curiously wholesome, as if she were helping a dear friend in need.

She allowed him to imbibe as he soothingly rolled his tongue. He continuously impaled her with his expanding girth, sending her into a blissful stupor that she knew could only be enhanced by one gesture.

"Could you cum for me - please?" Nym slurred her words, hoping he was lucid enough to hear her request.

Within a few moments, Nym felt the tickle of his murmured agreement against her sensitive neck. 

An escalating symphony of wet slapping noises and moans coursed through the camp before  Astarion snapped his hips into Nym's core; bottoming out as he drank from her neck and overflowing her with his seed. 

He shallowly thrust a few more times, thoroughly imbuing her with his jism; his latch on her throat, unrelenting.

Nym, although sated, began to feel herself weakening, as the corners of her vision grew spotty: the telltale signs of blood loss.

Knowing this, she resolved to withdraw her consent at last, and hoped that he would hear her soft voice.

"Astarion, please - stop,” she cooed, tugging gently at the curls on the nape of his neck. 

At first, nothing. . .

But then - Astarion jostled as if gearing up to release her.

Taking one last gulp, he somehow found the will to tear himself from her - his fantasy of control coming to a not-unpleasant end.

Panting instinctively, he craned his head into her neck. With the flat of his trembling tongue, he cleaned her wounds, making sure to not waste even a drop of her precious ichor before kissing her chastely; a formality, surely, and not as a lover's gesture, he thought.

Nym hummed, rotating her hips around Astarion's still-hard cock which he had yet to remove.

Grunting, he lifted his head from her neck, grabbing her hips with both hands before thrusting into her once more - as a final treat; for himself or his lover, he did not know.

He placed his hand at the nape of her neck, pulling her into a sloppy, exhausted kiss. They moaned into one another before swiftly breaking away and sharing a seemingly deep, affectionate glance.

"As much as it’d be nice to continue, I fear I’ll be too sore tomorrow if we plan on doing this again," Nym confided, sighing.

"It seems you are as eager as I - you sweet thing," Astarion professed, finally pulling out of her body while they mutually sighed. 

"Now - kitty - shall I grab your blankets and tuck you in to spend the rest of your night with me? After we clean you up, of course," he suggested, as it only made sense, of course.

Blushing, Nym fought back a precipitous grin. "I really fucking like you, you know. You're my favourite."

"The feeling is quite mutual, If you couldn't tell already,” he exclaimed, pecking her forehead before giving her head a condescending scratch. "Right then, I'll be right back." 

Astarion swiftly tucked himself into his pants and nicked his best handkerchief before rising from his tent to find the kettle. Grateful that the water was still warm, he soaked his handkerchief before prudently ringing it out. 

Bringing the soft, damp fabric back to his tent, he somehow felt whelmed, knowing that a beautiful woman was waiting for him; an abstract concept to him, considering he'd only been a means to an end for centuries.

He felt so very gracious for her generosity, but he knew that these things often come with a price. He was indebted, and he wanted to repay her for her favour, but perhaps sex was enough. 

Of course, he enjoyed himself, certainly worlds more than he had during any of his previous trysts; Hells, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had an orgasm that torridly intense, or if he'd ever had one like that at all.

Crouching into his crimson tent, handkerchief in hand, he greeted Nym. "Hello, there." He forced a smile, as his mind still swam with anxiety.

"Hi, Astarion. Long time, no see,” she said, giggling at her own joke. 

"You are quite the silly one. I'm becoming very fond of that laugh of yours." Astarion confessed.

"Hmm - well, you make me giggle a lot, too, if you haven't noticed." She winked cheekily as the corner of her lip pulled up.

"Oh, I cause you to make all sorts of noises, apparently,” he teased, "Now let me help you wash up."

She huffed a close-lipped laugh while a smile painted her lips.

A tender moment between two strangers who had sought comfort in the form of connection. 

Nym believed that moments like these were just as nature intended, for those were the teachings of Silvanus. 

Astarion wiped Nym down with his soft cloth, taking care to be both thorough and gentle. 

Nym turned her bottom to him, so he used his free hand to briefly massage her backside; a gesture that felt more sensual rather than sexual. Nym hummed, leaning into his touch.

Astarion, feeling satisfied with his efforts, left the tent again to rinse his cloth in the river and hang it up outside his tent in a somewhat obscured location. He stalked over to Nym's tent to gather her belongings, which there were few of, managing to snag a couple of blankets, a pillow, and an unopened glass bottle of water.

He strode back to his tent, clumsily opening the flap with his hand that was also fisting the neck of the water bottle. 

Upon entering, he saw Nym who was lying belly-down on his things. “I hoped that you’d had more blankets, but it seems as though we'll have to add it to our shopping list," he stated, mournfully.

"We? Oh - it’d be so pleasant to have assistance with that. I've been finding this whole ‘leader’ thing quite overwhelming." Nym confessed, laughing nervously.

"Well, apologies. I should’ve offered to help you sooner. I may be a monster but I'm not a bum. I can't say the same for our other ‘companions’, however,” he quipped.

Smiling brightly at Astarion, Nym rolled onto her back. "You're not a monster, you're just a bit toothy. I can be toothy sometimes, and I don't think I'm a monster."

"Hmm - well you are only slightly devious so I suppose they would make an exception in the famed Guide to Monsters." He joked. 

Dropping the fixings, he began to undress himself, fully.

"Oh, stop. You love me." She jested with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Maybe a little. I do have an appreciation for pretty morsels with claws." He attentively and tactfully placed each blanket atop one another. 

Kneeling beside her head, he gestured, "Up." She lifted her head slightly and he tucked her pillow under it with care.

Opening the blankets, he climbed in next to Nym, now lying on her back with her eyes closed while her hands rested lazily on her ribcage. He nudged and caressed her cheek with his knuckle before ghosting a thumb over her lips. 

Languidly turning to face him, she opened her eyes, her gaze holding a gentle and weary look.

She snaked her hand up to his ear, caressing it affectionately, engendering him to close his eyes as he basked in her loving touch; a feeling that he hadn't had the opportunity to feel for as long as he could remember.

Unbidden tears formed behind his closed eyes as a fragment of his recent past surfaced in his memories; though he quickly pushed the thought aside, regaining his composure. 

If Nym noticed his tearful display, she didn't press.

Maybe in time, as they grew more acquainted, he could open up about his past, and perhaps she, along with the rest of their cohort, could offer him support. But for now, he focused on cherishing this tender moment with his newfound friend.

They lay entwined with one another, trancing until the sun came up. 

Despite their predicament, in a way, they both felt it a blessing that they had found one another. The bond that had begun forming between them felt promising, in a way that could make both of them stronger. This was a good thing. 

Comfort can be a good thing.

˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚

𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤,

𝔞𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℑ𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔳𝔬𝔲𝔯,

𝔞 𝔰𝔞𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢

𝔅𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔳𝔢 𝔤𝔬𝔱 𝔞 𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢

𝔖𝔬 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔞 𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔢

˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•✮˖⁺‧₊˚

Read part 2

[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: seungcheol x fem!reader

Requested: no

Release date: 24-04-24

Genre: mafia au, reverse of getting kidnaped by the mafia boss, fluff, e2l, crack, assistant au

Warning(s): mention of abduction, guns?, cheol is a menace, brief mentions of drugs (do tell me if i missed anything)

summary: It was not supposed to be like this, it was a meticulous plan perfectly curated by you, Jun and Seokmin. You were supposed to go get the man who was the future heir of the Kim Corps named Mingyu, you ever had a pic of his. Most importantly it was definitely not supposed to be the man who now sits in your basement claiming that he is the leader of the mafia organisation you three work for.

Word count: 5.8k

Other works

Beta reader(s): @wonuwrites-main and @anonmonty (sweet sweet angles helped me with proof reading, or else im fucking incompetent)

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.

a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask. Plus, if you loved it enough don't forget to reblog, it will help me reach a larger audience.

[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]

It is a beautiful day, and like they always say: beautiful things happen on beautiful days, and you were damn ready for the said beautiful thing to happen!

The plan is simple—you and Jun have gone over it at least fifty times, and Seokmin has been standing there listening to you both intently throughout the whole ordeal. 

“So, let’s go over it once again,” you say, pointing at the white board with the picture of a man, Mingyu to be exact, the heir to the Kim Corp. and your target. 

“He leaves his office to have coffee every afternoon exactly at 3pm at the nearest café named ‘Carvery’, am I right?” Jun and Seokmin nod with a concentrated look on their faces. 

“Next he goes to the park, sits there for fifteen minutes, on most days, and then takes the path that leads them straight back to the building, correct?” The two men again nod, and then Jun takes over the talking. 

“More often than not, he hates company during his afternoon runs, so the best chance we have of abducting the man is when he is between the café and the park. This will give us at least a twenty-minute head start before the police and his family start looking for him.” 

Now you and Seokmin nod at the man, and Seokmin takes the podium to present the next part. 

“Jun and I will be on the streets while y/n waits in the car, and from the background check we ran last month, we know the man is well trained in martial arts, so we will try and attack him with the anesthetic as soon as possible.” 

“And after the guy is unconscious, we will flee with his ass~,” adds Jun. 

“Sounds like a solid plan,” you laugh as you high five the two men. 

Indeed, it was a solid plan. You three had considered every possibility and chosen this day to execute your plan. It’s perfect and thorough, so what can go wrong? 

-- 

A lot apparently. 

You reached the destination ten minutes early to give Seokmin and Jun ample amount of time to prepare for the attack. 

As you parked your car near the pavement where the abduction would take place, you see a man walk past the car wearing a beige trench coat with some sort of concoction from the coffee shop. 

Now if you were a seasoned abductor, you would have known not to mess with the person as the timing was not right. But that was not the case, and seeing a person who vaguely matched the physical descriptions of the man you were actually supposed to abduct gave you enough reason to jump the gun and take this man hostage. 

Before you could process anything, Seokmin jumped on the guy, trying to tackle him while Jun tried to find a way to inject the drug into his system. After another minute of struggle, taking at least five punches in their abdomen and faces, both the men were successful in sedating the man.  

They hurriedly carried him to the car and you three sped off to the base to ask his family for ransom. 

-- 

You have been back at the base for three hours now. As you look at the unconscious man tied to the chair in front, you realize the grave mistake you made by not seeing his face the minute you were actually kidnapping him. 

“I mean if you look at his eyes, they look very similar to the real target, you know. Maybe he ate too much last night and is a bit swollen now,” Jun says in a wise tone. Now if you were stupid like Seokmin, you would have accepted this analogy of his just like the hundred others he had spewed in the past two hours, but you are not. So, you hit the guy’s head while calmly saying. 

“Will you keep quiet for a minute? You know as well as I that this is the wrong man. We don’t even know who he actually is. So, we wait for him to gain consciousness and then interrogate him.”  

You have figured that screaming and crying will get you nowhere. All it will do is trigger Seokmin’s panic attack, and you do not think he can manage another one after the one hour long one he just resurfaced from.  

“Our best bet is that we abducted a pretty important dude, or else we know the boss will have our meat served to his dogs for their nightly feasts,” you continued. 

“I can see he is wearing pretty costly brands all over. My guts say he is rich,” Seokmin pipes up. 

“Seok, your gut told you to scream for the past hour. I don’t trust it a lot now,” you complain. 

“I think it’s your fault, too. You should have stopped us from abducting the guy instead of just staring from the car, you know,” Jun says. 

Now, you will consider yourself to be a level-headed person, but one thing that gets to you more than anything else is a false accusation. On top of that, the bitch has the gal to accuse you of being careless when they were the ones showing literally no care about their work, owing to the fact you were not even supposed to abduct the untouchable Kim Mingyu in the first place. The leader of your clan, although you three had never seen him, mostly operated through Jeonghan, his right-hand man. The guy you agreed to kidnap was apparently remarkably close to your boss. But when faced with the tough choice of loyalty towards one gang and the lump sum of three million, you three had to face the situation and betray your gang. You know you should not, but the small jobs with the gang were not enough to even pay your rent!  

So, who does Jun think he is to shift the blame towards you when you have done nothing but try to make a secure living for all three of you. Therefore, you do the thing that your sane brain advises you to. 

Go off at Jun. 

“So, if I fail to babysit two grown men while on an extremely important mission that included them, the blame is shifted towards me?!” 

“You were both supposed to wait for my instructions before confronting the poor bloke. Now, if things go wrong, it will be your faults, and I will be dragged into it because I was the main brain behind the planning.”  

“Guys, I think we should focus on the guy more; I think he is stirring.” 

This statement from Seokmin caught both of your attention, causing you to cease the argument immediately to take a look at the man in front of you. 

Without hesitation, you put your gun on his head and ask, “who are you, tell us about yourself.” 

The man albeit good looking with his doe eyes and plump lips, gave you three a mean stare before speaking sassily. 

“Shouldn’t you know the identity of the person you kidnap?” 

“If we knew, I don’t think I would have asked about you,” you reply. 

The man scoffs before informing you the most gut-wrenching piece of information you have ever heard. 

“I’m Choi Seungcheol leader of Choi Clan.” 

-- 

When Seungcheol met Mingyu today, he was feeling particularly drained and sought the comfort of a familiar face, longing for a brief respite from the relentless demands of his job. Mingyu, sensing his friend's exhaustion, proposed they take a detour to unwind, considering Seungcheol's grueling schedule. Gratefully accepting the suggestion, Seungcheol had embarked on what he thought would be a much-needed moment of relaxation. 

Oh, how wrong he was. 

As he leisurely sipped his coffee, enjoying a fleeting moment of calm, the tranquility was shattered by the sudden onslaught of a group of thugs. Seungcheol had braced himself for a possible mugging, but the idea of being abducted never crossed his mind. He curses himself for sending Soonyoung away earlier, now regretting not having company in this unforeseen predicament. 

To make matters worse, Seungcheol felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. A mafia boss getting abducted! 

How humiliating.  

Now, do not get him wrong, he was, in reality, as far from incompetent as the Sahara was from water, as Seungkwan was from being calm, as Jihoon was from showing affection—you get the point. 

In fact, he had been the first in three generations to successfully reclaim the southeastern part of the city for his clan from the Yoon family, a testament to his capabilities. 

Now bound and surrounded by three hapless captors whose incompetence was glaringly evident, judging by the one who he suspects was crying prior to their conversation with him. He suspected they had targeted Mingyu, but mistakenly seized him instead. Seungcheol could not help but shake his head at their sheer incompetence. 

Now, again, he is not that scared. He knows he has a trusted pack of workers who would join heaven and earth in search of him. No, he is least bothered about himself. 

What he is actually bothered about is who planned to abduct Mingyu, because he is strictly off limits for his clan members. He knows this as much as anyone that they respect the young heir a lot, not only due to his kind nature, but also because of the relationship he has with their leader. 

So, when he informs his three kidnappers his name, he gets the weirdest of responses ever—a chorus of ‘shits’ and ‘fucks.’ Moreover, he sees all three of his kidnappers suddenly fall down at his feet and grumbling out the most nonsensical bullshit ever. The only words he vaguely captures are ‘it was supposed to be someone else’ and ‘sirs’. 

This confuses the man even more. But then he suddenly sees all three of them take their masks off, revealing two men and, dare he say, a very gorgeous woman. Now in any other situation,

Seungcheol would have laughed, but now that he is in it himself, the only reaction he can provide is a confused head nod as the woman immediately goes to untie his hands. 

-- 

“So, you are telling me that you were paid to abduct my friend who you know is off limits, but still went ahead with the idea, even though you are the members of my gang?!”  

He says as he looks at your group standing in front of him with their heads bowed down looking like kids getting scolded.  

“But sir, we barely make any money from doing the jobs assigned to us. The only way for us to pay our rent was for taking up jobs from outside, and this one paid us a huge sum. We never wanted you to be the one getting abducted instead, we swear!” you suddenly exclaim with the extreme need to explain yourself. 

Your two partners beside you do their dutiful job by nodding their heads with your rant. 

“You three fucked up really bad, didn’t you?” He says, looking a tad bit amused. 

“We are really sorry!” Seokmin chokes out, visibly scared by the whole ordeal. 

“Well, it’s time I go back, so take me back to the office.” 

Right after that statement comes out of his mouth, you three are escorting him out of the door to the car parked outside to take him back. 

-- 

“So, you are telling me these three, these newbies who literally didn’t have any good job for them to gain experience, drugged your ass and took you to god knows where, and you couldn’t even put up a good fight?!” 

Jeonghan exclaims, looking at the seated, nervous, and scared faces of the three of you from Seungcheol’s office’s glass. 

“Apparently not,” the older man sighs. 

“My friend, are you sure you are a real mafia? Because in light of the current happenings, I am starting to question your integrity a lot.” Jeonghan says as he barks out a laugh, taking immense pleasure at his friend’s humiliation. 

“Or maybe you were too caught up staring at the pretty lady to notice that you were getting kidnapped.” 

The bitch continues to make fun of the older man. 

“I just thought I was getting mugged, so I didn’t fight hard enough. Who knew I would be kidnapped instead.” Seungcheol grumbles, pouting a bit. 

“Which is even worse, because you are telling me you would have let people just mug you for no reason when you are one of the most influential people underground!” Jeonghan said while looking pretty concerned about the statement his superior just spewed, and he does indeed have a hard time accepting it. 

“Ahh! Just get over with it and let me go. Plus make sure the three of them face the appropriate consequences for not only abducting me, but also trying to abduct my friend,” Seungcheol barks out while walking out, thoroughly humiliated, and annoyed that his junior was having fun at his expense. 

So Jeonghan does the very thing at which he is extremely good. 

Create chaos. 

 Right after his superior leaves, he strides towards the group and says, “so because the boss has instructed me to do something with you three which will stop you guys from going off the hook, I’m going to assign you some jobs in the organization because I can.” 

Now, anyone even vaguely familiar with Jeonghan would recognize the expression he wore just before chaos ensued, but contrary to popular belief, Jeonghan is actually quite amiable—at least, that is what he believes, and that is what matters, right? 

He continues, “Junhui, you will be overseeing the artillery division. Our deputy head Chan will ensure you are well informed about your job. You will meet him tomorrow. As for Seokmin,” he paused, a sly smile crossing his face, which made Seokmin visibly nervous, “You, my friend, will be our esteemed boss's driver. Lastly, y/n, you will be his assistant. You shall be meeting Chan tomorrow, too; he will explain the workings of your new role.” 

Normally, in any ordinary conversation, you would not dare ask inappropriate questions, but the circumstances were far from normal, so you proceeded with the most audacious question you could muster: “Why did Chan leave his previous post?” 

Jeonghan politely responded, “He left because the job didn’t suit him, so we shifted him to the artillery department as a deputy head.” 

Unspoken was the fact that Chan had been worn down by the boss's relentless bullying, quietly requesting a transfer for at least three years before Jeonghan finally relented. Since then, the turnover of assistants had been alarmingly high. Jeonghan desperately hoped you would stick around. Moreover, if either you or Seungcheol objected to this arrangement, he had enough leverage to ensure you both comply. Enough dirt to keep both of you in line. 

-- 

Your meeting with Chan the next day went well. He explained to you the workings, gave you tips and tricks on how to make sure all the work gets done. Overall, a 10/10 experience, except the small hiccup at the end where he cryptically said something along the lines of “Best of all fucking luck with this job because you will need it.” 

Now a small best of luck is never a bad gesture, but that statement! 

That shit was a bit too hostile, even for you. But you are fine, happy even. Anything that saves you from getting your life cut short by a mafia leader is always welcomed. 

-- 

“What are you doing here?”  

“Where is Jeonghan?” 

The first two sentences to ever leave The Choi Seungcheol’s mouth the minute he sees your face when he comes into his office that afternoon. Indeed, so delightful! 

"Sir, I've been assigned as your work assistant for the time being," you reply, your eyes downcast. It is a surreal turn of events considering just yesterday this man was tied up in your basement. After that ordeal, everything seemed to take on a different hue, almost as if you were hearing the bells of heaven. So, that reaction seems pretty appropriate to you given the circumstances. 

Now you see our oh so beloved Mr. Choi was not just an underground mob because what is the fun in that, right! He mostly did international business under the guise of his company named The ChoiTech, solely based on providing technological change using sustainable means. Pretty cleaver tactic, although overused, but still gets the job done, so who are you to judge. 

The man looking extremely shocked at your statement immediately rushed inside his office, you presume, to call Jeonghan. And sure enough, within five minutes of him disappearing from your sight, you could hear him loudly complaining to his secretary on the phone. “But Jeonghan I can’t be collaborating with her, after what she did to me yesterday!” 

The man whined and then suddenly you could hear hushed whispers, so being the curious cat you were, slowly crept near the door to hear the conversation better. 

“But man, it’s humiliating. She kidnapped me for fucks sake”, the oh so powerful man, who people assumed will one day rule the underworld, whined like a kid who has been denied to go on a playdate with their best friend. 

By this time, you were almost pressed onto the door when suddenly the sound of someone clearing their throat made you jump away from it and look about for the person who stopped you from consuming you daily dose of gossip. 

The culprit, Joshua, stood right in front of your desk with an amused look on his face. 

Now Joshua is someone you were extremely familiar with, being the man who took care of assigning roles to the lower members of the group, you have had a lot of angry conversations with him. 

“I would ask you if Seungcheol is busy, but the way you were trying so hard to eavesdrop, makes me think otherwise,” he says, making you roll your eyes. 

“Just give me a minute to tell him you are here, then you can go in.” 

The man nodded still looking thoroughly amused at how sad you looked due to missing out on whatever conversation you were listening to. 

After a minute, the man was inside, now looking even happier that he has seen his next victim to torment. 

-- 

“So Jeonghan was indeed right,” he said, looking like he was having a tough time controlling his laugh. 

“Not you, too,” the pouty man whined from behind the desk. “But really, can you tell him to not put that woman as my assistant? I get war flashbacks every time I see her face,” he continued whining. 

“I mean, I could do that, but where is the fun there, right!” Joshua, thoroughly enjoying his boss’s misery, replied. “But in all seriousness, you could just treat her like Chan. The boy is still traumatized by the amount of work you made him do,” he thoughtfully added. 

The older replies, “I liked Chan, he was nice, would do anything you ask him to!” 

“And so will she. Her life is at stake here, give her some benefit of the doubt.” 

This statement made the older think like never before. Plans of tormenting you to quit your job rushing past his brain at high speed. Suddenly everything made sense. 

“I can take my revenge! That is exactly why Jeonghan made her my assistant. Oh, my friend is such a genius!” Seungcheol said, looking a bit too enthusiastic. 

“Ok, I am sure it was done to decrease his workload, but whatever you say, man,” the younger said skeptically after seeing the diabolical look on the elder’s face. 

-- 

It has already been three weeks and suddenly you understand what Chan meant all those days back when he wished you good luck. To put it quite plainly, your boss is crazy. 

The man was a combination of workaholic and perfectionist, which resulted in him getting swamped by work and by default the same fate befalls you every day, too. For the past three weeks, you have had a challenging time at the office to even take a break to eat food. 

The men you called your enemies once, aka Jeonghan and Joshua, are the ones now saving you from dying out of malnutrition. You are eternally thankful to them. But more than anything now, you regret trying to kidnap Kim Mingyu—the name makes you want to cry in a corner and throw rocks at people, if you had any time to do so. 

“Sir, you scheduled two appointments at the same time: the new project for the Orin Community Park and another one with Mr. Xu for the narcotic deal.” 

You informed the man who had his face shoved in some papers, reading something diligently.  

“Why did you not stop me from doing so then, you were right beside me when I was going through the plan.” 

Now, it is your job to curate the perfect schedule for the man to follow, but Seungcheol being the guy born only to cause you inconvenience made his schedule for the week himself this time. 

Why you might ask?

Purely because the man is a chronic insomniac and whenever he has trouble sleeping, instead of taking measures to have a peaceful sleep, he tries his hands in different works because he can, and this time his victim was the poor, poor schedule of his. 

“Because you had already sent them both emails, sir,” you say, thoroughly exasperated. 

“Ok maybe I did, so now I obviously can’t cancel on both so you figure out something so that I can attend both the meetings, because I ain’t missing any.” 

The man just turns his chair around and keeps reading whatever he was reading in the first place.

With an extremely calm voice, you say, “sir I need you to stop trying to do something to pass time when you can’t sleep. I need you to actually go to a doctor.”  “Can’t,” comes his response, making you sigh more. 

Sometimes it feels like you are working as a babysitter to a grown man instead of an assistant to a CEO. 

Seeing the conversation would be going nowhere if you keep talking to him, you go out and do the second-best thing in your books. 

Call Chan. 

“Lemme guess, the boss is giving you a hard time!” The first sentence he says right after picking up the phone. 

Sighing, you tell him all of Seungcheol’s various administrative behaviors throughout this week. When you got to the part where he had so bravely and meticulously made the perfect schedule, Chan started laughing. The gall of that boy! 

“Wait, he still does that!” He exclaimed between his laughs, making you feel even more annoyed. 

After calming down he says, “just make Jeonghan or Jihoon go for the community meeting and let him manage the narc. I know you are thankful, so do not mention it, but maybe buy me a meal when you are free, as a repayment.” 

Chuckling at the younger boy, you agreed to get him whatever he asks for purely because he is a literal angel, and he deserves the world. Ok, maybe it is a bit too dramatic, but the boy was indeed your angel in disguise. 

Planning on following through with the advice Chan gave you, you called both Jeonghan and Jihoon simultaneously. As Jeonghan was busy, Jihoon accepted the work of going to the community welfare meeting instead of Seungcheol. 

After that, the whole day was smooth sailing. But the main root of all your problems was happy, maybe not healthy, but the look of pure happiness and the twinkling eyes when he passed by your desk was hard to miss.  

This man was slowly but surely making sure to strip you of your patience bit by bit. 

--  

The last straw to eradicating your already depleting patience came when Seungcheol in all his glory, during one of his nightly ‘Imma take away other’s jobs because sleep refuses to befriend me’ escapades, deleted all your assistant notes for the server by mistake. 

You still are baffled as to how he did that. Truth be told so is he. He was scrolling away on his phone when he saw this reel about ‘how to increase your Wi-Fi speed.’ Extremely intrigued by it, he had actually tried to increase the internet speed in his house, and he swears on every god on planet earth it worked. So, he tried doing so with the one in his office, which weirdly enough resulted in removal of all the information that you had stored in your laptop. 

Now if this would have happened to his computer, too, you would not have gotten as angry as you were, but the motherfucker’s computer was all well and good and if you actually pay attention, it seems that his internet speed has increased, too! 

How this man become a CEO is beyond you. What is not so beyond is your pure hatred for him and his technologically challenged ass. 

So that night when Seungcheol, stayed back as usual to do work, you took your chances, entered his office, and slammed a ball of yarn and two knitting needles on his table while scaring the life out of the, not so, poor man. 

“Start knitting!” you calmly said. 

“But I don’t know how to though!” he replies, thoroughly confused. 

“Then learn, Seungcheol! I don’t care what you want to do, I need you to learn and pick up a hobby, start gaming, try knitting anything! Just make sure you are not trying to turn the office upside down.” 

Anyone who knows Seungcheol also knows never to question his nightly routines, but more than that, they also know the pride of the man is too high to ever accept his mistake. So, when you commit the grave crime of pointing out his mishap with the Wi-Fi router that morning, you hit the nail on the head and pissed him to the fucking moon. 

“So, you think I’m bad at what I do?!” 

“No, I think you are technically inept. And you should leave it to people who are good at it.” 

This pisses off Seungcheol more than anything, but you don’t let him intervene as you keep speaking. 

“On top of that you are constantly making changes in your schedule without informing me. You’re your assistant. Maybe have you ever considered the fact that your schedule was made so that your day is smooth sailing, and no two activities overlap!” 

“Just because you refuse to go to a doctor and try and find a way to manage your stress does not mean you make the workplace hell for us.” 

By the end of your rant, you were fuming and Seungcheol was stunned. 

Clearing his throat, he says awkwardly, “I’m sorry you feel so, I will try and fix my schedule.” 

Now, although this statement made you feel better, it also confused you, as you were fully prepared to have a full-blown fight with the man. Him backing down was never an option. But now that it has happened, you muttered a small, “I shall be going then”, to which your boss meekly nodded. 

After you were outside, you ended up feeling better due to unloading all your anger on the man. It was refreshing. Now you just needed to see what changes tomorrow will bring for Seungcheol. 

-- 

It had been two months since you had the argument with Seungcheol, more like your single woman shouting spree. But things have been better. He has tried to keep his need for new experiences down and this has made your life exponentially easier.  

Did you now have time to eat. Absolutely not! 

But the office was not a nightmare anymore.  

If someone would have told you five months ago that this is what your future held for you, you would have straight up laughed at their face and told them to get themselves checked. But life has weird ways of throwing you in situations you don’t expect yourself to be in, and you have no other ways of getting out but learn to go with the flow. 

You sometimes talk to Jun and Seokmin, and you have realized you got the hardest of all the jobs.

You asked Jeonghan about it once and his answer was, “because I can and its fun!” 

So here you are sitting on the couch with Seokmin while enjoying your sandwich when you see Seungcheol come outside carrying a bag, Jeonghan trailing behind him sporting this devilish look on his face. 

The big man walks towards you and hands you the bag. Opening it you notice a green scarf sitting at the bottom. 

“Seungcheol’s first knitting creation, and he says thank you for forcing him to learn knitting. It helps him sleep now.” Jeonghan says while pointing at the bag even before the older man could open his mouth. 

Seokmin tries to make himself as invisible as possible while looking extremely interested in the whole situation unfolding in front of him. 

Seungcheol waves his hands at Jeonghan trying to hush him down and whines, “let me speak!” 

“I made this cause you told me it would help me sleep! I didn’t think it could actually help me, but it looks like it did, so I’m extremely thankful for your suggestion.”

“Good job!” Jeonghan says, patting Seungcheol’s head like he was a child, making you laugh a bit. 

“Thank you for listening to me, sir!” 

“Oh, no, call him by his name, or else he will become weird with you again!” Jeonghan says, making you laugh again. Seungcheol pouts at both of you and storms back to his office, with Jeonghan at his tail making fun of him yet again. 

After that, you kept the bag in your desk and went to bid your friend goodbye. 

“He looked like he was confessing to his crush, you know”, Seokmin muses. 

“Maybe he has a crush on you!” He exclaimed after pausing for a moment. 

“I don’t, he is a weird person,” you had replied thoughtfully. 

Realizing he has been chatting with you for a long time, Seokmin quickly rushes outside while loudly screaming a ‘goodbye’ for the whole building to hear. 

When you came back to your desk, Jeonghan was waiting for you there. The man just looked at you with a smirk and said, “see you later y/n, and make sure to wear the scarf!” 

Jeonghan is a weird person. You more often than not don’t listen to what he tells you to do. He forces you to do them anyways. 

“Seriously, lady, do wear the scarf. Plus, it’s cold outside—you won’t get a heatstroke if you do so.” 

With that he was outside of the office, too. Slowly work caught up with you and you forgot about the scarf altogether. 

-- 

That evening, as you were finishing up at work and preparing to leave, you grabbed the scarf that had been gifted to you and wrapped it around your neck before stepping out of the office. 

Unbeknownst to you, the man who had given you the scarf felt a rush of joy upon seeing you wear it. Concealing his flushed cheeks, he quietly followed you out and spontaneously invited you to join him for dinner, explaining that he had given Seokmin the night off and now was in extreme need of a dinner companion, as Seokmin would fill in that position on most nights. It was unusual for him to make such a request, but you were both hungry and couldn't resist the offer of a free meal, even if it was from someone as harmless as him. 

"So, what do you think?" Seungcheol asked as the two of you sat at the ramen shop waiting for your orders. 

"About what?" You replied, genuinely puzzled by his question. 

"Didn't you read the letter?" He asked, his face turning even redder as he mentioned it. 

"What letter?" You responded, glancing around until Seungcheol nodded towards the bag in which he gave you the scarf, looking inside you noticed an envelope that matched the interior perfectly sitting at the bottom. 

"Oh! I can read it now," you exclaimed. 

"Don't worry about it right now," he interjected as the waiter arrived with your bowls of ramen. 

Despite his reluctance to discuss the letter further, your curiosity only grew stronger after he dropped you off at your doorstep. Once inside your home, you wasted no time in retrieving the letter from your bag. Its contents filled you with excitement like never before. 

The following day at the office, you placed another letter on Seungcheol's desk before getting on with your usual tasks, eager to see his reaction. 

-- 

"So, let me get this straight—you've been dating our boss for the past month?" Exclaimed Jun, eyes wide with disbelief. 

"Why didn't you tell us sooner? How did this even happen?!" Chimed in Seokmin, equally stunned by the news. 

As soon as you revealed your relationship with Seungcheol, you found yourself bombarded with a flurry of questions from your friends. It was amusing to witness their sheer astonishment, and yet, deep down, it felt incredibly rewarding to share this surprising news with them.

What started as a casual hangout quickly transformed into a lively interrogation session, with your friends firing off all sorts of curious inquiries. Most pressing among them was the question: 

“How and when did all of this happen?!” 

You couldn't blame them for their curiosity. It seemed like just yesterday that you had kidnapped Seungcheol off the street instead of his friend Mingyu, which resulted in Jeonghan gaining the perfect opportunity to bully you both half to death. And let's not forget the hell and back experience you were subjected to from Seungcheol himself, the man who had once resorted to extreme tactics to get you to quit as he was reminded of the oh so humiliating experience he went through every time he saw your face. But somehow, it all worked out in the end, and you couldn't be happier about how it turned out. 

Near the end of your gathering, you couldn't resist the urge to pull out your phone and reveal the most treasured image in your gallery: a photograph capturing two pieces of paper resting on a desk. One paper bore a lengthy paragraph, while the other simply displayed a single, bold sentence: 

"Take me out on a proper date first!" 

The photo encapsulated perfectly how you both worked so well with each other. It was a sweet reminder of how unexpectedly love can bloom in the most unconventional of circumstances. 

As your friends marveled at the photo, you couldn't help but reflect on how far you and Seungcheol had come in such a short time. Despite the initial hurdles and challenges you faced with the man, you were grateful for the bond you now shared—a relationship built on laughter, friendship, and, of course, a bit of unexpected romance. 

The end hope you like it !!

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Is there anything support the populat interpretation that old valriya and valryians in general are more feminist, and progressive than the rest in Asoiaf?

Anon, thank you! I've been wanting to address this for awhile, so I'm going to actually answer this really fully, with as many receipts as I can provide (this ended up being more of an essay than I intended, but hopefully it helps)

I think there's in fact plenty of evidence to suggest that Valyria and the Valyrians in general were anything but progressive. Valyria was an expansive empire with a robust slave trade that practiced incest based on the idea of blood supremacy/blood purity. All of these things are absolutely antithetical to progressivism. There is no way any empire practicing slavery can ever be called progressive. Now, the Targaryens of Dragonstone have since given up the practice of slavery, but they certainly still believe in the supremacy of Valyrian blood.

And I'll see the argument, well what's wrong with believing your blood is special if your blood really is special and magic? Which is just-- if anyone catches themselves thinking this, and you sincerely believe that GRRM intended to create a magically superior master race of hot blondes who deserve to rule over all other backwards races by virtue of their superior breeding which is reinforced through brother-sister incest, and you've convinced yourself this represents progressive values, then you might want to step away from the computer for a bit and do a bit of self reflection.

And remember-- what is special about this special blood? It gives the bearers the ability to wield sentient weapons of mass destruction. It's also likely, according to the most popular theories, the result of blood magic involving human sacrifice. So there is a terrible price to pay for this so-called supremacy. Would any of us line up to be sacrificed to the Fourteen Flames so that the Valyrians can have nukes?

And if you are tempted by the idea that a woman who rides a dragon must inherently have some sort of power-- that is true. A woman who rides a dragon is more powerful than a woman who does not ride a dragon, and in some cases, more powerful than a man who does not ride a dragon, but that does not make her more powerful than a man who also rides a dragon. Dragonriding remained a carefully guarded privilege, and Targaryen women who might otherwise become dragonriders were routinely denied the privilege (despite the oft repeated "you cannot steal a dragon," when Saera Targaryen attempted to claim a dragon from the dragonpit, she was thrown into a cell for the attempted "theft,"words used by Jaehaerys). The dragonkeepers were established explicitly to keep anyone, even those of Targaryen blood, from taking them without permission. Any "liberation" that she has achieved is an illusion. What she has gained is the ability to enact violence upon others who are less privileged, and this ability does not save her from being the victim of gender based violence herself.

Politically speaking, it is also true that Valyria was a "freehold," in that they did not have a hereditary monarchy, but instead had a political structure akin to Ancient Athens (which was itself democratic, but not at all progressive or feminist). Landholding citizens could vote on laws and on temporary leaders, Archons. Were any of the lords freeholder women? We don't know. If we take Volantis as an example, the free city that seems to consider itself the successor to Valyria, the party of merchants, the elephants, had several female leaders three hundred years ago, but the party of the aristocracy, the tigers, the party made up of Valyrian Old Blood nobility, has never had a female leader. Lys, the other free city, is known for it's pleasure houses, which mainly employ women kidnapped into sexual slavery (as well as some young men). It is ruled by a group of magisters, who are chosen from among the wealthiest and noblest men in the city, not women. There does not seem to be a tradition of female leadership among Valyrians, and that's reflected by Aegon I himself, who becomes king, rather than his older sister-wife, Visenya. And although there have been girls named heir, temporarily, among the pre-Dance Targaryens, none were named heir above a trueborn brother aside from Rhaenyra, a choice that sparked a civil war. In this sense, the Targaryens are no different from the rest of Westeros.

As for feminism or sexual liberation, there's just no evidence to support it. We know that polygamy was not common, but it was also not entirely unheard of, but incest, to keep the bloodlines "pure," was common. Incest and polygamy are certainly sexual taboos, both in the real world and in Westeros, that the Valyrians violated, but the violation of sexual taboos is not automatically sexually liberated or feminist. Polygamy, when it is exclusively practiced by men and polyandry is forbidden (and we have no examples of Valyrian women taking multiple husbands, outside of fanfic), is often abusive to young women. Incest leads to an erosion of family relationships and abusive grooming situations are inevitable. King Jaehaerys' daughters are an excellent case study, and the stories of Saera and Viserra are particularly heartbreaking. Both women were punished severely for "sexual liberation," Viserra for getting drunk and slipping into her brother Baelon's bed at age fifteen, in an attempt to avoid an unwanted marriage to an old man. She was not punished because she was sister attempting to sleep with a brother, but because she was the wrong sister. Her mother, the queen had already chosen another sister for Baelon, and believed her own teenage daughter was seducing her brother for nefarious reasons. As a sister, Viserra should have been able to look to her brother for protection, but as the product of an incestuous family, Viserra could only conceive of that protection in terms of giving herself over to him sexually.

Beyond that, sexual slavery was also common in ancient Valyria, a practice that persisted in Lys and Volantis, with women (and young men) trafficked from other conquered and raided nations. Any culture that is built on a foundation of slavery and which considers sexual slavery to be normal and permissible, is a culture of normalized rape. Not feminist, not progressive.

I think we get the picture! so where did this idea that Valyrians are more progressive come from? I think there are two reasons. One, the fandom has a bit of a tendency to imagine Valyrians and their traditions in opposition to Westerosi Sevenism, and if Sevenism is fantasy Catholicism, and the fantasy Catholics also hate the Valyrian ways, they must hate them because those annoying uptight religious freaks just hate everything fun and cool, right? They hate revealing clothing, hate pornographic tapestries, hate sex outside of marriage, hate bastards. So being on Sevenism's shit-list must be a mark of honor, a sign of progressive values? But it's such a surface level reading, and a real misunderstanding of the medieval Catholic church, and a conflating of that church with the later Puritan values that many of us in the Anglosphere associate with being "devout." For most of European history, the Catholic church was simply The Church, and the church was, ironically, where you would find the material actions which most closely align with modern progressive values. The church cared for lepers, provided educations for women, took care of orphans, and fed the poor. In GRRM's world, which is admittedly more secular than the actual medieval world, Sevenism nevertheless has basically the same function, feeding the poor instead of, you know, enslaving them.

Finally, I blame the shows. While Valyrians weren't a progressive culture, Daenerys Targaryen herself held relatively progressive individual values by a medieval metric. She is a slavery abolitionist, she elevates women within her ranks, and she takes control of her own sexuality (after breaking free from her Targaryen brother). But Daenerys wasn't raised as a Targaryen. She grew up an orphan in exile, hearing stories of her illustrious ancestors from her brother, who of the two did absorb a bit of that culture, and is not coincidentally, fucked up, abusive, and misogynistic. He feels a sexual ownership over his sister, arranges a marriage for her, and even after her marriage, feels entitled to make decisions on her behalf. It is only after breaking away from Viserys that Dany comes into her own values. Having once been a mere object without agency of her own, she determines to save others from that fate and becomes an abolitionist. But because Game of Thrones gave viewers very little exposure to Targaryens aside from Daenerys, House Targaryen, in the eyes of most show watchers, is most closely associated with Dany and her freedom-fighter values. And as for Rhaenyra in House of the Dragon, being a female heir does not make her feminist or progressive, although it is tempting to view her that way when she is juxtaposed against Aegon II. Her "sexual liberation" was a lesson given to her by her uncle Daemon, a man who had an express interest in "liberating" her so that she would sleep with him, it was not a value she was raised with. In fact, she was very nearly disinherited for it, and was forced into a marriage with a gay man as a result of said "liberation." She had no interest in changing succession laws to allow absolute primogeniture, no interest in changing laws or norms around bastardy despite having bastards; she simply viewed herself as an exception. Rhaenyra's entire justification for her claim is not the desire to uplift women, bring peace and stability to Westeros, or even to keep her brother off the throne, it is simply that she believes she deserves it because her father is the king and he told her she could have it, despite all tradition and norms, and in spite of the near certain succession crisis it will cause. Whether she is right or wrong, absolutism is not progressive.

And let me just say, none of this means that you can't enjoy the Valyrians or think that they're fun or be a fan of house Targaryen. This insistence that Targaryens are the progressive, feminist (read: morally good) house seems by connected to the need of some fans to make their favorite characters unproblematic. If the Valyrians are "bad," does that make you a bad person for enjoying them? Of course not. But let's stop the moral grandstanding about the "feminist" and "progressive" Valyrians in a series that is an analogue for medieval feudalism. Neither of those things can exist under the systems in place in Westeros, nor could they have existed in the slavery based empire of conquest that was old Valyria.

[aclowntiny]

First ‘I Love You’ With Seventeen

Since Ateez got one & all! 😄 Warning: long post! 😂

S.Coups

Almost every time you spent time with Seungcheol and the guys, you ended up taking care of them somehow, breaking up spats or cooking for them or even just satisfying certain members’ desire for attention. Not that you were anywhere near a de facto leader- in fact, it was just like you were parenting them. And while that made Choi ‘Family of Six’ Seungcheol fall over himself, head over heels to show you appreciation and affection every time, sometimes he needed you to himself.

This was one of those times.

The jacuzzi water was warm as it bubbled around you two, arms hanging out the edge and glasses in hand like anyone high society in movies would do. Seungcheol nuzzled affectionately into your cheek, grinning at the way you giggled his name when his nose brushed your skin.

“This is nice, isn’t it? Just you and me,” he murmured.

“You and me and the moon,” you hummed cheerily, “it’s wonderful, not that I don’t love the guys, but this must be what parents feel like when they go on vacation together.”

So you saw it too? Cute. “They love you, you know. And I can see why. But I loved you first,” Seungcheol remarked, the words slipping out as he kisses your cheek, feeling whole right there with you at his side.

“Well, that’s good,” you replied, smile so beautiful Seungcheol didn’t even need to look at the stars to see a shine, “because I love them, but I love you more.”

Setting down his glass, Seungcheol swept you into his arms, pulling you for a real kiss as you both repeated your confession, warm in both the water and your embrace.

Jeonghan

Life was kind to you. You had the most loving and understanding boyfriend anyone could ask for. Jeonghan was the best listener you’d ever met, and while you were careful not to abuse that, he let you know time and time again that he cared, that you could talk to him.

So hesitant as you were, you had gone to him one night after a bad day at work, saying you didn’t want to dwell too hard but needed a vent, and all he did was pull you to his lap without another question asked. That day had brought dealings with a particularly rude person, someone who’d taken a low blow at your appearance and unfortunately chosen something you were sensitive about. As you rested with your head in Jeonghan’s lap, his hand playing with your hair, you sighed that though you had a lot of blessings in life, you just wish that one thing at least would go away.

“You know that says more about them than it does about you, right?” Jeonghan began softly. “You would never tear someone down like that, would you?”

“Of course not,” you replied instantly, no thought even necessary.

“That’s because you’re a nice person. You don’t feel the need to cover your flaws with someone else’s or feel better than them. Even if you are in my mind,” he joked, squishing your cheek and bringing your first genuine smile and giggle of the day out.

“Don’t worry about what strangers think, ok? Those things you don’t like about yourself? I think they’re beautiful,” Jeonghan peers down at you with a soft smile, dark eyes sparkling, “I love them. I love you.”

As much as people think of your boyfriend as some sort of jokester, you know he’d never joke about a thing like that. That fond look like he sees the whole world? That really is for you. He truly loves you as you are. Tears welled in your eyes, only to fall back as you reached up, hand brushing along the curve of Jeonghan’s cheek.

“I can say all the same to you, Jeonghan. I love you, too.”

Joshua

Joshua wanted to fall in love first. Wasn’t a fan of being flirted with, having passes made at him, anything that felt disingenuous. What he wanted was a reality, a friendship that carried through into the greatest of bonds, something that he found for himself.

He found you. Well, sort of. When he met you, you treated him like anyone else. Cared to ask him deeper questions, like what the meaning of music was to him or if he could have any one piece of knowledge, what it would be. Let yourself loose and were your silly, smart, kind self very quickly, and he admired your comfort in that side of yourself. Or the resistence to social inhibitions at least, even if it was a challenge.

He hadn’t even expected to really fall for you, but the more you spoke, the less he could help it. You two just made sense together, his energy calming you and yours encouraging Joshua’s fun side- anything to keep you laughing with him, and laugh together you did!

Selfish as it sounded, he didn’t want anyone else to make you laugh like that. He wanted your heart to carry him as his did you, so when you agreed to date him, confessed you’d love that, wore the bracelet he’d made you with his initial on it, his heart just melted. Much as you deserved your freedom, Joshua wanted to be a home to you, and now it was time to tell you that.

~

You notice he’s that much more loving to you by the way he looks at you, the way he rushes around to open the car door for you and the way his arm slides up and down yours as you make your way into the restaurant he reserved a nice dinner for you two at.

You know him well enough to recognize that he’s biting his tongue about something, like his whole mind is leaning on the edge of his seat as he listens to you, but you know he takes time sometimes to speak his mind- it’s just Joshua’s nature, and you can accept that. You love him, after all, and that’s part of that.

So you keep talking, joking around along with your boyfriend as he reminisces on something embarrassing that happened to him in high school you still joke about, and you remind him of that funny baseball game trip you took with your grandparents.

“I hope I’m as lively as my great-grandpa is at that age, the way he climbed over the bench!"

"Minus the mustard," Joshua chuckled.

"Minus the mustard," you agreed, "I'd like to be a mustard-free grandparent."

Grandparent. One word and flashes of imagination burst through Joshua's mind, wondering what you two would look like as the quintessential old married couple, how many grandkids you'd have- and here he thought he hated thinking like that.

“Ha, that's a great image- I can almost see it. I see a future with you, you know,” Joshua tells you, taking your hand in his, eyes locked on yours. They aren’t searching, though- all you can see is pure joy, reassurance.

You can’t help the warmth that rises to your cheeks. “And of course I can see you in mine,” you reply.

“I love you,” you both say at the same time, and that’s how Joshua knows it’s real- you’ve found it together.

Jun

Welcome to the longest day ever. As he trudged his way home, that was all Junhui could think. Travel was fun, but also so grueling between work, jet lag, and little sleep. All he wanted to do was eat something and crash. Then he’d sleep for eight to twelve hours and wake up grateful for all the experiences that were still a bit hazy in his mind.

As he opened the door, sweet relief flooded him, and yet it was the tiniest bit strange entering the solitude. At least until-

“Welcome home!”

He almost jumped, just barely managed to quell his nerves enough to remain steady. Turning, he saw you standing at the table, food laid out and even a little cake that said ‘Welcome Back Junnie!!! > ω <’ frosted on top.

He was grateful enough you’d taken care of things while he was gone, but making him a late dinner? That adorable cake? He wasn’t even upset by the break of solitude, he realized, because time with you was still going to feel like ‘me time’. And who wouldn’t be overjoyed to see someone stayed up late to cook just for you? No, overjoyed wasn’t it, he reflected as he fell into your arms, he was in love.

“I’m home,” he said, and as if it would make it real he repeated it, “I’m home.”

“It feels good to be back, huh? I knew a party would be annoying, but figured you’d need something to eat, so welcome home,” you told him.

As you separated, Junhui held you a bit closer than arms’ length, hands on your shoulders as he shook his head, chuckling to himself. “No, you’re home. It’s you I missed the most this whole time, (y/n). I love you.”

And the way your face slowly, beautifully drifted into a grin, your hands sliding back up to pull him in, Junhui sighed in relief and giggled with delirious, sleepless joy, knowing you’d found your home, too.

Hoshi

You and Soonyoung sat cuddled together on the couch, his arm around you as you chatted…or you had been, but that didn’t always last with you two. One of you- it was a toss-up on who, honestly- would inevitably say something that had you both laughing like fools, normal conversation and breathing alike almost completely abandoned.

Such was one of those times as you sat connected but folded as your sides were about to split in the kind of mirth that makes you feel worked out afterward. You often described it as the best feeling, so it was fitting to share it with Soonyoung, your frequently-cited other half. That was part of why you-

“I love you!”

It was as if he read your mind, the way the words fell so abruptly, spontaneously, wonderfully from his lips as you thought a near variant. You could tell by the sudden ‘o’ shape his lips took, followed immediately by the wide, adorable grin you loved so much, that Soonyoung hadn’t even known he was going to say it, it just slipped out in between laughs.

“Uh, well, that is, I mean-”

“I love you too, Soonyoung.”

“Ok, good, because I really actually love you a lot and-”

“I love you a lot too,” you cut off his stammering, hands cupping his cheeks and yanking him into a kiss that was also no laughing matter.

No flowers, no frills, but as you sat there making out with your favorite partner in crime on the couch, you knew you wouldn’t want your confession any other way.

Wonwoo

“Wow, this is beautiful! We’re really going out here?”

Out here, in this case, being the lake you rapidly approached, all but running down the dock to the little boat your boyfriend had rented. Trees surrounded the secluded spot, draping its reflections in green that reached endlessly for the sky.

“M-hm,” Wonwoo replied contentedly, expression bright as he followed behind you at a more normal pace.

"How romantic!" You gushed, taking in the sprawling water as Wonwoo extended a hand, gently taking yours in it as he lowered you onto the cushioned bench like a true gentleman.

"I know," Wonwoo agreed as he untied the boat, earning a chuckle from you, "I wanted a day with just us and nature."

Nature. Just like any life in earth, your relationship had taken time, nourishment, and care to grow. And being at Wonwoo's side was natural for you; his presence was calming, but not stifling. Joy, excitement, laughter all bubbled up, but not with the same tension, you reflected as you cut further across the blue expanse.

"What are you thinking about?" Wonwoo asks, a hand still guiding your vessel, palming the controls effortlessly. Not that you were staring or anything.

You lean on the side of the boat, watching the water ever so slightly part. "How you bring out the best in me."

"You?" Wonwoo breathed as you eased to a stop. "You bring out the best in me. Pull me out of my shell. Sometimes it feels easier to stay in the background, just take it all in. Sometimes I would wonder if I would ever truly catch the eye of someone who sees me. And when I'm with you, I feel interesting. I feel light. Happy, like everything around me is clear. When we're together, I'm whole, simple as that. I wanted to have this moment to tell you I love you, (y/n)." As he said 'this moment', his hand waved over the tree-lined horizon, emphasizing the pinkening sunset tinting the clouds like watercolor over the forest.

No rush had ever overcome your heart like that. You wanted to cut the tension with something silly, exclaim in surprise, but neither of you deserved that. This truly was a moment to enjoy, one of life's blessings to live in your heart whenever you needed gratitude, you thought as you peered into Wonwoo's eyes.

See? Totally balanced energy. Reaching over, you rested your hand over his.

"I couldn't agree more. I guess this is a pretty good moment to tell you I love you, too," you reply with a smile that only widens his.

Woozi

It was really such a surprise. Jihoon hadn't expected you to push your way into his heart, not when he'd thought those doors were still shut for a long time to come. And even just the way that he was, busy and not exactly of social personality, he hadn't exactly been planning on falling in love.

But that's the thing with love- one didn't exactly plan on it. You kept things up even when he thought he was being awkward, showed genuine interest in his passions, supported him, built onto it with small ideas that had him inspired even though they were just offhand comments to you. You could read him so well, even when he thought he needed to act. He didn't. You told him so. And being with someone so introverted, you learned well how to sacrifice big activities and nights out if you even wanted them that often.

"As long as I'm with you," you'd say with a smile, and that small, small phrase had looped its way around Jihoon's brain. Somehow, it said everything he wanted to say.

As long as I'm with you.

He didn't want to do it in the studio- you'd spent enough time there for him as it was. No need to do everything in his workplace, not when this was an us thing. So he went over to yours, the space that belonged to you and less frequently housed your time together for myriad reasons, though it felt right. He ordered your favorite for dinner, let you choose what you two would watch, correctly guessing it was going to be your favorite movie. Comfort movie, you always called it. Comfort person, he always called you.

You got the delivery, he threw the blankets down. You played the DVD, he laughed at every joking comment and impression you did even if you did them every time. Doing separate things, but you two were in total sync.

But finally, you spoke outside of the screen. "I-I really like spending time together here, too. I'm glad you were able to make it."

Your shy smile had Jihoon's heart doing loop-de-loops- maybe you were worried he'd think you were imposing? You were not.

"Of course," he replied, hand resting over yours as his eyes studied your beautiful features, features that had inspired more than a few lyrics, even if some got tossed in the end, "you do a lot for me, it's only right I do it for you. It's not always easy, but you're such a trooper. I love you, you know."

DK

It shouldn’t be a big deal. You could feel it already, right? Seokmin tried his best every day for it to show, to create a world where you could bask in the feeling of it like the gift you were.

So why did it seem so hard to tell you he loves you?

Maybe because of his personality- you had to know it was in earnest, not just a joke, not him trying to be cute. His heart beating faster whenever he saw you, the strength you gave him to do anything because you believed in him, and he wished you guys could swap eyes to see how beautiful and precious you were to him.

Wait, so just…say all of that? Maybe too lengthy despite its verity. Maybe something he could practice? No, no script for this, just his heart held out to you. And maybe, just maybe, you’d see he means it if he’s serious, if you’re standing in your favorite place as he says it, somewhere he’d go every day if it made you smile.

And so he takes you there, practically just waving a hand at the potential time and expense if you bring it up. You're worth it, he tells you. All he wants is to have fun with you, you know. To share in something that makes you you.

Your face lights up as soon as you set foot in your favorite destination. “Seriously, I can’t thank you enough! Why are you doing this all of a sudden?”

The look in your eyes as you swivel to face him unleashes something, a soaring in his chest that he can no longer ignore- he wonders how he could have for so long. Like a wave crashing on a sea-bound rock, the words burst forth.

“Because I love you.”

Seokmin just, just gets in a glimpse of the way your eyes widen, shine even brighter if that’s possible, before you’re launching into his arms, giggling “I love you, too”.

Mingyu

He wanted to tackle you. He wanted to scoop you up and fly you off to some private island and tell you it’s yours, he’d give you the world if he could. But that’s just how dramatic love made Kim Mingyu. As it was, not really an option. And he knew you- that’s not what you’d want, and this was one hundred percent beyond a shadow of a doubt all about you.

But that was it, the gloves were…well, on, actually, as Mjngyu made his way into the kitchen for something that would be much more your speed. Something that, funny as the mental image would be, would not earn him a smack on the chest or a complaint about time and money. Just the thought made him smile. Pretty much any thought of you made Mingyu smile, even on days he wanted to cry, days where being his kind self took work.

And that was how he knew.

~

“Alright, alright, let’s see!” You laughed as your boyfriend took you by the shoulders, practically jogging you down the hall in excitement that took over you like the happiest of viruses. “What is it? You’re acting like you won the lottery!”

“I did,” he murmured into your ear as you rounded the corner, taking in all that he had set up for you.

The table perfectly set, a gorgeous vase of flowers and two candles a respectable distance from them as centers. Plates, cups, a wine bottle, dishes all at the ready for the meal set just where you could see it- a favorite from your home, clearly handmade.

“Mingyu, you-”. Your voice failed you momentarily beneath your ballooning heart, “how did you know to make this?”

“Got the recipe from your family,” he replied, and you swooned even more with mirth at the pride you heard in his voice, envisioning it even before you turned around to take in the real thing. Just as you thought he was standing quite straight, shoulders out and handsome grin flashing in victory.

“All this for-”

“For you, yes,” he took your hand, gazing into your eyes in the blinding way that always made your knees a bit weak, “I hope it shows. I couldn’t think of a better way to tell you I love you. …And believe me, I thought about it a lot.”

And there he was, sweet and innocent and wonderful as ever despite the bravado that made you laugh, shaking your head in utter wonder as you fell into his arms, feeling them close around you and trace your back in a way that said I’m never letting you go.

“Mingyu, I love you, too. So much.”

The8

Love is something Minghao considers often. Platonic, familial love that keeps him moving forward when things get difficult. The special love he shares with his friends that can keep him smiling in a hard time, laughing at nothing on a fishing trip or bouncing on a stage with his dear bandmates no matter how hot the weather is. The love fans have, whether that's a real love or not- much contemplation went into that area, what was the feeling of possession versus what was love.

Romantic love? Sure, he thought about that, too, and the answer to any doubts on that subject was modeled by none other than his parents, the way they raised him and brought each other's spirits up with full hearts you could just see in their eyes.

And he saw it in his own when he was with you. It was a truth as evident as the nose on his face or the color of his walls, and it's within those walls that the words slip forth. During a simple moment at home, just seeing you standing in his kitchen cracking eggs into a pan in the morning and all feels right in Minghao's world. It was you he wanted this life with, this home, this synergy. And the thought of bringing up a little mini-you? He was surprised how fast his heart beat at the thought.

Shuffling in behind you, he wrapped his arms around your middle as you cooked, feeling your cheek rise in a smile against his head and smiling right back.

"Good morning," you said, "It's a new day."

And those words of yours were like divine intervention, just another piece of proof you two were operating on the same frequency. "Good morning. It is. I'm so thankful for this day, when I can tell you how much I love you."

Seungkwan

"The beach wasn't the surprise?" You burst out incredulously.

Seungkwan had already brought you to gorgeous shores, the sound of waves crashing washing away worry, faithlessness, restlessness from your heart. There you'd both strolled for who knew how long, chatting idly, trading seashells, laughing lots as always, not a cloud in your physical or metaphorical skies.

And then he tells you he has a surprise for you.

At your question, he shakes his head, smiling shyly. "No, but I wanted to have this day with you. To make you happy and have a beautiful place for it all.

"You're so sweet!" As is their habit, as if they have a mind of their own, your arms find their way around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

Seungkwan melts into your touch, leaning forward just so until your foreheads touch. He stays like that a moment, hands on you as well, as if soaking in your warmth to carry with him. Then his arms are sliding down, gently unlocking from the embrace, though his hand gives yours a squeeze on the way out.

And he starts singing. That voice of his- you could never get enough, your eyes fluttering in threats to shut in bliss at the sound of it, and yet you want to stare, to drink in the sight. The words are familiar as home even though it's been a while since you've heard them, and your face immediately goes alight.

"I know this song," you remark quietly with a smile, watching the corners of Seungkwan's lips rise happily as he continued pouring forth sweet words.

It's a love song, probably about ten years old, and boy does it bring back memories of a simpler time, of wild imaginings of love as only conjured by a blissfully ignorant, sweet innocent mind. Back then, love could be whatever you wanted it to be. And right now, that idea doesn't seem so far off. Not when you have someone as encouraging, as faithful, as comforting and completely in tune with you as Seungkwan at your side. The man standing before you truly believes you can be anything and will do anything to help you achieve it.

As the last notes resound across your heart like carven sheet music, you're almost frozen to the spot, bare feet starting to sink into the sand as you grin dreamily.

"You remember that song?"

"Remember it?" You light up further, hands clasped. "I love that song! I used to insist it would be my wedding song when I was fifteen!"

"I wanted to learn it for you," Seungkwan continues, rubbing the back of his neck shyly with one hand while the other grabs for yours, "to make a moment worthy of telling you I love you."

Seungkwan could have told you he loved you in a McDonald's parking lot and your answer would have been the same, but his heart, his eye for detail, his sheer showmanship and yet humility blew you away. Your heart beat faster just for him as you raised your joined hands to your lips, hoping he felt the flutter too.

"Well, today was perfect. And even if it wasn't, I would still love you just as much. Which is a lot."

You considered saying more, but all that escaped you was a yelp as Seungkwan's hands fell to your back, dropping you suddenly in a dip as he kissed you at the sea's edge.

Vernon

He was usually so low-key.

Such thoughts are all you have as Vernon spoils you with a rooftop dinner, visions of the city surrounding your solitary peak on all sides. Neither of you dressed up often, but there you were, up to the nines at this gorgeous place you didn't even know you earned. Not that that was a good way to think. Knowing him as well as you did, you could hear Vernon brushing off thoughts like that. Sure you did, he'd say, you worked hard and he always wanted to care for you if he could. He was such a sweetheart. You wanted to carry his burdens, too, felt lighter and calmer around him. You loved him, but would that be too intense?

Either way, you didn't let such musings color your date stiff. Vernon talked about a movie he had just watched with Jeonghan and Seungkwan, giving his critiques but ultimately praising the romantic plot, how the love was so pure.

"The main male lead? He'd do anything for his love interest. He's willing to give up so much for her, and when she's ready to do the same? It's corny, but there's something so human about it. You know?"

"I do," you nod, leaning your hand on your chin, forgetting anything about elbows on the table as you gaze fondly at the object of your affection. You loved how he talked when he gave his little movie reviews, the passion in his eyes, the flowers in his words.

"It made me realize I'd do the same for you," Vernon continued, dark eyes softening into yours, melting your entire chest cavity to joyous mush.

Unable to help it any longer, you lean forward, connecting your lips with his, which move just as eagerly. The kiss is fast, but sweet, gentle brushes speaking just as much as Vernon’s sentiments.

“I would do it for you, too,” you breathe as the two of you separate, grinning like adorable fools beneath twinkling white lights.

“I came up here tonight because I wanted to tell you something,” Vernon adds, eyes never leaving yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Dino

Googling romantic date ideas had hit a jackpot, Chan thought as he whipped his arms, spreading the softest blanket he could find down.

“Tell me when I can look!” You called from some distance away as he laid the basket gently, almost tenderly down, feeling tense and turning twice just to make sure it didn’t drop or tip. Everything had to be perfect.

“In a minute,” he called back, grinning widely with joy, anticipation, even a hint of pride, “I’m almost finished, ok?”

“Ok!”

Chan’s heart swelled. You sounded so excited, too, joyful in voice and mannerism as you waited on the grass, back turned to him as he propped up the finishing touches.

“Alright, come here!” All but jogging over to you, Chan slung a hand over your shoulder. “Turn around, gorgeous.”

“Chan!” You giggled his name, reaching up to his his shoulder. He didn’t always talk like that, but praise and endearment were all his brain could come up with. You made him giddy, and for once there was no one around to tease him if he looked like a fool. And love was certainly making a happy fool of him.

When you turned around with him, your jaw dropped, widening to a slack smile at the sight Chan laid out for you. Upon the soft blanket he'd placed not just a picnic basket, but a chilled bottle of champagne, twin glasses, a pair of cute little bright solar lanterns, and a freshly wrapped bouquet of flowers.

"You did all this for me?"

"And no one else," he replied, arm still around you, guiding you as you both lowered into seated positions on the blanket.

"I feel so spoiled," you gushed as he handed you the flowers, smiling at the way you cradled them with gusto.

"You should," Chan grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "I love you."

Flowers, glittering lanterns, and even food and wine forgotten for the moment, you knocked him on the blanket for a passionate kiss that spoke it all back.

[salbei-141]

A second chance (Emmett x reader)

Masterlist

Part 2 (Good girl, stay quiet for me)

word count: 2.7k 

warnings: 18+ age gap (reader is early 20s and Emmett is late 30s), eventual smut in part 2, angst, cult like stuff, allusion/mentioning of sexual assault, death, etc. 

a/n: I watched ‘A Quiet Place II’ recently and I’m feral for Emmett y’all, they knew what they were doing when they casted Cillian Murphy. John Krasinski doing God’s work.

Seeing as I feel like I have an issue of rambling to fit description in, I’m making this 2 parts instead of like a 6k one-shot - don’t hate me lol

Enjoy my loves

:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’d come across Emmett a few weeks ago now - you think. There was no real way to tell time anymore; the clock on your watch still ticked, but you’d lost count of the days long ago now.

You were on the run when you had come across Emmett’s safe place - you had been with a group - only for about 2 weeks - before you realised you needed an out, and you needed one quick; it was a shame because they’d managed to find a fairly soundproof bunker - you thought you were safe. With that, you spent the next few nights sneaking about different storage rooms and searching duffle bags, until you had enough gear to survive and run someplace else. It had been a week in this new group when you started to hear quiet whispers between its people - you couldn’t quite make out what they had been saying, but the looks you’d receive from people were enough to tell you whatever was being whispered was about you. One night, you had needed to go to their makeshift bathroom - it was risky, but you couldn’t wait. On your way you could hear quiet murmurings amongst 2 people - it was the guy who had found you - Alec you think his name was and their leader if you’d call him that - James.

“We need to initiate her soon James, it's almost been a week - you told me to go find a girl, bring her back, and we’d initiate her.” your heart paused, and there was a dull ringing in your ears - what the fuck were they talking about?

“You better keep that mouth shut of yours, who the fuck do you think you’re talking to like that”, James’ voice had venom seeping through each word he enunciated - he had spoken so gently to you on your arrival, something was off, and you felt your gut twisting with anxiety.

“Sorry Sir, I didn’t mean to disrespect you.” you could hear the tremble in Alec’s voice - he was scared, and it didn’t comfort you one bit.

“Look, we need another week, and then we will proceed with the initiation...we must follow the guidelines of the holy one Alec - she’s young and will be ready to take you when we are given guidance for you to do so. This cannot be rushed Alec boy, do you understand?” You had no clue what James was talking about, but it wasn’t hard to piece things together you were in the middle of some sort of religious cult, and you were chosen for some sick ‘initiation’ that you weren’t going to allow yourself to be apart of even if it meant you had to die.

“Yes Sir.” Alec had replied meekly.

Scuttling back to your bed, careful to make no sound as you heard the two men shuffling about, you ignored the need to empty your bladder and squeezed your eyes shut hoping no one had seen you.

Since that night you had noticed people were becoming more handsy with you, acting like they had a familial connection with you. Over the next week, you’d listen into conversations when you could, trying to figure out when the ‘initiation’ was. When you heard it was going to be at the end of the week, you had to make a guess as they had a single calendar in James’ office that you couldn’t enter. From the night you heard this, you had decided upon leaving the next coming night just to be safe - you had collected enough belongings and hid them outside in a bush one night when everyone was sleeping.  

It was the night, and you were trying your best to not appear jittery, but the reality was you were scared - you knew the moment these aliens or whatever the fuck they were invaded that the most primitive sides of people were going to be revealed - it was the sad reality of human nature. Going through the day with no issue, you were eventually sat eating some soup like everyone else in silence as usual - you had tried making conversation the day you got here and was immediately reprimanded - that should’ve been your first warning sign.

With the sun set and everyone in their makeshift beds, you lay upon your own, waiting to hear the quiet snores and breaths of everyone around you. You were probably waiting for around 2 hours before you decided you were safe. Since surviving for as long as you had, you’d become an expert at sneaking around, making no noise. Walking out of the room as you had done on several nights, you came to a set of stairs in the bunker and made your way up them, making no noise. Then came the door - it had been recently sprayed to loosen the hinges for when the men would go on runs, so it was an easy process too. Pushing it open, you were met with a harsh breeze of fresh air. Closing the door behind you, you crept to a bush in the far corner by a densely populated area of trees. Leaning down, you were careful putting the backpack on your shoulders. With a success, you took a hunting rifle you had stolen from the floor, hooked it on your right shoulder and made it through the trees.

Your heart dropped instantly - you were barely 5 minutes in and you found yourself on all fours, having tripped on a wire. The bastards, they’d set them up around the bunker - you felt stupid to have not thought about this, but you needed to pick yourself up and run as a shrill sound started to ring all around you. Suddenly you heard the door of the bunker crash open and there was shouting - they knew it was you, but you didn’t care - you could only think about running, your ears were concentrating on the beating of your heart as adrenaline pumped through your body - you couldn’t hear anything around you. That was until you heard it screech - was this it for you? Pushing your legs faster you heard as guns were shot - maybe or maybe not successfully killing those things, you didn’t care to turn around and look. Continuing to run as footsteps were gaining on you, you came across a train track and followed it up, noticing several large decrepit buildings - this could be your chance to escape them, and you were taking it.

Noticing a hole in a wire fence, you pushed your way through, not caring enough about the rattling of the metal as you went through. Unknown to you, there was a trap set up, similar to the one outside the bunker, and you yet again found yourself tripping over some wire, causing a clashing of metal bottles to go off. There it was again. The fucking screeches of those creatures. Picking your tired body back up, you made a beeline to the first building you could see. Halfway there though, you heard the metal rattle of the fence, turning you made eye contact with Alec.

“y/n get back here right now damn it! You ungrateful bitch, we were going to give you a good life you know!” he was screaming over the sound of the creatures and gunshots that were much further away - you were convinced they were going to attract every single one of them things in the country to your location.

Another screech sounded to your left, causing both you and Alec to turn. Without wasting any more time, you continued to the building with Alec hot on your heels.

“y/n I’m not -” Before the man could continue with his pathetic sentence, you heard a scream come from his mouth. You couldn’t find it in you to feel guilt, you were almost happy the thing had gotten him - you felt disgusted at the fact you believed he deserved it, but that was just the way of this new world. 

Getting into the building, still hearing Alec’s screams, you were praying it’d be enough for the creature to not follow you. Just as you were about to press your back against the wall, you felt a hand cover your mouth, and an arm trap you against someone’s chest. Fear shot through you again - they’d got you, they’d won in the end, of course they’d have. However, a new unfamiliar voice hit your ears as you squirmed in the foreign pair of arms, “Shush, follow me”.

Calming your movements, but still on guard, you turned to meet the eyes of this man - they looked tired, and kind almost, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to let your guard down. Watching as he quietly jogged through the building, you decided to follow him as he said to - you didn’t feel like you had much choice - it was either you follow him or you had a worse fate with the other surviving men of the cult, or the creatures.

Darting between metal barrels and concrete slabs, you came up to a drop - watching as the man jumped into the large pipe, you made no hesitation to follow suit. Landing on some broken sandbags, you weren’t given the chance to admire the room as you heard another screech emitted within the building. The man opened what looked like a vault of sorts and waited for you to jump in - it looked cramp, but again what choice did you have right now? Jumping in, the man followed and shut the door. The both of you were sat panting, heart rates accelerated at an unhealthy speed. As you watched the man open his mouth, your eyes immediately went wide - there was no way he was about to compromise the both of you after all of that.

“Don’t worry they can’t hear us down here.” his voice was muffled behind the mask he wore, but you heard.

Instead of replying, you looked straight in front of you at the wall, thinking about the last few events - still trying to catch your breath.

Hearing a beep, your head snapped up - you looked like a deer caught in headlights - every minor sound had you on edge. Watching the man stop it, he went to open the container, but not before you reached for his arm, “What the fuck are you doing?”, you shot him an incredulous look at his actions.

“We’ll be fine now, and if I keep it shut any longer we’re dead - it’s shut airtight in here.”, he continued to open the vault again as your arm came back to your side.

Your heartbeat still hadn’t calmed down, and you could feel the palpitations of it as the man exited the container. But nothing happened - he was walking about his room with ease - he looked relaxed. Taking a deep breath, you walked out too, standing still when you made contact with the concrete floor - you were safe.

“We can talk down here too, but only in whispers” You nodded in his direction, almost not catching quite what he had said.

Watching as he sat at a desk covered in drawings, you took the liberty to take the other seat further from him, but still close enough. You couldn’t bring yourself to take your eyes off him, and he must’ve known because he turned around looking you dead in the eye. Taking the mask that covered his features off, you felt yourself stop breathing - he was attractive, as attractive as a man could be considering the conditions everyone was currently in.

“So what was that out there?” he asked nonchalantly, leaning back against the desk, and spreading his legs.

“I was running.” your voice was much quieter than was necessary, almost impossible to hear, and your eyes glossed over - now that you really had the time to think things through, you realised just how dire of a situation you had been in, and how different things could’ve been.

“I see. They ain’t gonna come back here are they?” you couldn’t blame him for putting his own safety first - you were an intruder to him, and he had every right to worry.

“I don’t think so.” you inhaled deeply, musting up the courage you explain the situation, so he’d understand - you were worried he’d make you leave soon. “I think they were some sort of cult...they uh wanted me to uh go through with this initiation thing. I think they were going to do something to me...mentioned about how I was ‘young’ and uh ‘ready to take’ one of the guys.” you were playing with the slightly calloused skin on your hands, fearing his response.

“I’m Emmett.” is all he said...was that a good sign?

“Oh, uh I’m y/n.” you gave him one of those awkward smiles you’d offer to people you’d pass on the street.

You were just sat staring at each other - neither knowing quite how to interact with the other - you were 2 introverts in a room, and you weren’t going to be the first to speak up again.

After a few minutes of intensely holding each other’s gaze, you looked back down at your hands just as he spoke up again, “You been by yourself this whole time then?”, he was trying to understand how you’d gone for as long as you had out there - you didn’t look too old, so you must’ve had people before this group surely.

“uh I was with that group for about 2 weeks I think, then before them I...” your head started buzzing at the memories - what was going on? All you were envisioning was the death of your dad - neither your mum nor brother had even made it out of the house with a fighting chance. You remembered how your dad had stupidly dropped a bullet on the floor, you’d thought you were both okay - it was a silly mistake, and it wasn’t too loud. But you were wrong, so so wrong. You watched as a creature had jumped your dad and ripped him limb from limb as you stood in shock - hearing him scream out in pain between attempting to tell you to run, but all you could do was watch as the thing killed the last remaining person you knew.

Emmett furrowed his brows at your sudden silence, you look dazed. As he placed a cautious hand on your shoulder, he watched as you flinched at his touch - he felt a sudden surge of guilt, giving you a sorry look.

“uh sorry, was just thinking. I was with my dad before the group...he’s gone now.” you looked into his eyes, seeing the empathy he shared with you - he’d lost people too, you could tell. You wondered if that’s who the drawings were of.

“I...” He didn’t really have anything to say - a sorry wouldn’t fix things, wouldn’t make you feel better, so he chose to stay silent instead. He could tell you weren’t a threat to him, and against his better judgement he felt a sense of protectiveness over you now - he wasn’t going to let you out of his sight.

You think you had been sat there for about 30 minutes before either one of you spoke up again. “You can take my bed by the way, I think you could do with it.” he was right - your whole body had ached, and he somehow had a fairly okay bed down here considering the conditions you were all in. As much as you wanted to be polite and refuse, you found your legs taking control, and before you knew it, you were situated on his bed as he put some materials on the floor, so it was comfortable enough to sleep on.

With you curled up, Emmett started blowing the candles out one by one before laying himself down on the floor. With silence filling the room, you whispered a quiet goodnight to him.

“Goodnight y/n.” he quietly responded back with - it felt strange speaking to someone like this - he’d been alone for a while now. The both of you rapidly fell into the open arms of sleep, feeling secure with each other’s presence - you felt like you were safe here, and you hoped you were right this time.

[tanadrin]

What’s the case for an upper and lower chamber?

In my opinion, none.

The historical situation is that the upper chamber had more power and the lower was a sop to the common folk and petty nobility: this is why the House of Commons was formed (originally from knights of the shire and the representatives of cities that had been granted special rights by the Crown), and only later, after a very long process of constitutional evolution in Britain, did the Lords transform into a consultative body that was adjunct to the Commons, where the real power lay. For a while, even after you started to have something that looked like modern government in Britain, you still frequently had PMs drawn from the Lords--and still could, in theory, except that the convention is they come from the Commons.

In the U.S. example, the goal was simply to split the difference between a popular chamber (the House) and a chamber representing state governments (the Senate, whose members could be chosen by any method provided for under state law, but originally were usually chosen by state legislatures). This is because the people who drafted the U.S. constitution hated and were suspicious of popular democracy, because they were rich landowners and slaveholders whose positions were untenable in the long run if everyone in the country could vote and was equally represented.

Obviously they didn't put it like that--they spoke of the hotheaded hoi polloi, the changeable will of the people--but they were massive Romeaboos, and all the populist leaders who whittled away at the Roman republic managed to do so because they were willing to centralize power, to take it away from the baronial elite of the Republic, and to use that power in service of people further down the org chart. In service of themselves too, of course--these were not altruists--but it was the particularly Roman instantiation of the crown-vs-barons struggle, where the common folk usually side with the Crown, because the barons are bastards who abuse them directly.

(Very many "tyrants" in history were "tyrants" only in that they gave a raw deal to the barons in their particular social order, and very many events which we now describe as movements toward a more equitable distribution of power were in fact a very shitty deal for the majority of the population--the peasants--because it gave the barons even more license to abuse their serfs.)

And the American founders knew all this, and they were all barons, and they didn't like the idea of a federal government that was too effective, so they sprinkled it with veto points and also totally failed to anticipate the rise of modern political parties. (Which weren't exactly what they had in mind when they warned against factionalism--that was more about sectional interests. But still, they did totally fail to anticipate how this system would work as party politics developed.)

In a system of democratic government like the U.S. has now, where it is widely acknowledged the rule should be "one adult citizen never convicted of a felony who can get the day off work to stand in line and has a photo ID = one vote" the U.S. Senate is an inexcusable anachronism. Indeed, the Supreme Court has ruled that state senates modeled on the exact same principle as the U.S. senate (say, one county one senator, as the constitution of my home state Tennessee has it) are unconstitutional, because they violate the equal protection clause.

More recently, many countries have approached the idea of an upper chamber as a sort of "chamber of experts" meant to review and advise on legislation. This kind of makes sense in theory, I guess, but if voters want subject-matter experts to make policy, they can vote them in; in practice, any system of appointment or ex officio qualification is going to select for political lackeys without democratic mandates, and it's also just a bad idea to have people with significant power over the legislative process who do not have democratic accountability. The problem of creating legislation is never that we don't have enough smart people willing to offer their opinions; the problem is brokering functional compromises between interest groups and resolving incentives that push the process toward dysfunctional outcomes, which isn't really something you can fix just by fiddling with the composition of your upper house.

So in most modern parliamentary democracies, upper houses are reduced in power. Either they can't veto bills permanently (Lords), they can't originate money bills (Lords again), they only have input on certain matters (German Bundesrat), they're full of government appointees to ensure the government always has a majority in them (Irish Seanad), or the lower house can overrule them on most matters (Japanese House of Councillors). And the reason why is obvious: if your democratic mandate comes from the lower house, if that's where your government is being formed in a parliamentary system, if the whole principle of government is meant to be collective self-rule by the body of citizens, an upper house that is a check on that power is either definitionally redundant or a brake on democracy.

There are ways to ensure that a lower house is both representative and does not devolve into factional chaos. Proportional representation, four-year terms, constructive motions of no confidence (again, parliamentary systems only), etc. Plenty of countries and subnational entities have unicameral legislatures and are perfectly stable: Sweden, Norway, the Baltics, Portugal, Mongolia, South Korea, Peru [ok bad example nvm], all the states of Germany, all the provinces of Canada, most of the provinces of Argentina, Queensland, the vast majority of the states of India, and the three devolved legislatures in the United Kingdom.

Therefore in my opinion there is no good democratic case for an upper house. And all the undemocratic reasons why you'd want one are bad. Too much democracy is, in fact, a very rare problem for systems of government to have!

[arc-misadventures]

Emerald: Hey Cinder? MFK Me, Watts, and Jaune?

Cinder: MFK II

Emerald: H-Hey, Cinder?

Cinder: Yes, Emerald?

Emerald: MFK between, Jaune, Watts, and me~?

Cinder: Excuse me?

Jaune: Watts? The devil is that?

Cinder: I’d kill, Watts! Brutally, painfully, and slowly! I would absolutely remove his presence from this plain of existence, and the next! I would burn every fragmented memory of him so that their was nothing left of the fucker! I would DESTROY HIM!!!

Jaune: …

Emerald: …

Jaune: Y-You know what… N-Never mind!

Emerald: So… W-Who are you going to fuck, and marry then…?

Cinder: Well, for starters, you’re gonna fuck, Jaune…

Jaune: WHAT?!

Emerald: Excuse me?

Jaune: That’s not how the game is pla…! No, that’s not important; Why do you want me to sleep with, Emerald?!

Emerald: Yeah, why do you want me to do that?! A-Are you into that…?

Cinder: No, I’m not… But, well… Watching, Jaune turning you into his personal toy does sound oh so tantalizing~! Mmmm~! Perhaps we should try that later~!

Jaune: What?!

Emerald: Okay, what’s going on here, I’m so confused.

Jaune: Same here, what’s going on, Cindy?

Emerald: Cindy?!

Jaune: Uhhh…?!

Emerald: Since when did, Cinder have a nickname?!

Cinder: Since we became a couple.

Emerald: You’re dating?!

Jaune: Yes…

Emerald: The fuck did that happen?!

Jaune: Well… remember that time we were sent on that survival mission, j-just the two of us for team cohesion training?

Emerald: Yes?

Jaune: Well, Cinder was butting heads with me trying to be a leader, and all that.

Emerald: Yeah, she’s always been upset that you were chosen for team leader than her. But, that training mission sorted that out. It did sort it out?

Jaune: I-It did… just not in the way they intended…

Emerald: What happened?

Jaune: Well, you see… uhh… W-We kinda…

Cinder: Fucked.

Jaune: Yeah… That…

Emerald: WHAT?! The fuck happened?

Cinder: Oh, the usual: Me gloating on how great our team would be if I was in team leader. Jaune stating my arrogance would get us all killed if I was team leader. Then we both started arguing even more, and since none of you were their to stop us we really went at it. I was going to slap him for…? For something he said, It doesn’t matter anyway. He caught, my hand, and then we started wrestling, we fell down, and rolled across the dirt for a bit until, Jaune pinned to the floor, and the next thing I know I’m shoving my tongue down his throat, and learning how much of a bottom truly am.

Emerald: S-Seriously?

Jaune: P-Pretty much…

Emerald: So the whole reason you two started getting along together, and stopped fighting one another, is because you had sex?!

Jaune: Yes…?

Cinder: And, the disciplinary spankings. You mustn’t forget about the spankings~!

Emerald: Okay… Fine? You’re dating, I take it you’re ’married’ then?

Cinder: Oh absolutely. I genuinely hope to become, Cinder Fall Arc one day.

Jaune: Best not tell mom that, she could at least wait until after I ask you to marry me before demanding grandkids…

Cinder: Wait…?! You’re actually going to ask me to marry you?!

Jaune: Uhhh…?! S-S-So why do I have to fuck, Emerald?!

Cinder: Oh well, since I’ll be the bread earner, and you the house husband…

Jaune: What?! Why do I have to be the house husband?!

Cinder: Cause you can cook, clean, entertain guests, buy the necessary groceries for a meal. And, you know I can’t do that regardless of how hard we try, I mean to remember what happened the last time I tried to cook?

Emerald: They’re still repairing the kitchen…

Jaune: Shit… I am the house husband. But still, where does fucking, Emerald come into all of this?

Cinder: Oh she’ll be the sexy maid who helps you clean up around the house that you also bend over the table, and spank her because she did a ‘bad’ job cleaning everything.

Jaune: So she’s my mistress?

Cinder: Yes.

Emerald: So you want me to fuck your boyfriend to see if I’m good for him?

Cinder: Yes. I will be testing you on your ability to pleasure him, ability to take his massive member…

Emerald: How massive?

Cinder: Your endurance, and your…

Jaune: Endurance? Oh, I get it, you want help so you don’t tap out again.

Cinder: Can you blame me?! You can last twice as long as I can! And, I’m always walking with a limp every time we do it! I NEED HELP!

Jaune: Hence, Emerald?

Cinder: Hence, Emerald. So, you up for it, Emerald?

Emerald: …

Emerald: If I do this… D-Does that also mean I can sleep with you too…?

Cinder: That’s a definite probability.

Emerald: W-Will I get spankings from you if I misbehave…?

Cinder: Most likely.

Emerald: I’ll do it!

Cinder: Wonderful! Okay, let the test begin! Emerald, lets see how long you can last, and if you need help, or are about to tap out, we’ll have, Neo rake your place.

Jaune: Neo?! Neo doesn’t like me like that!

Cinder: Yes she does. She’s asked me on multiple occasions for a threesome with you.

Jaune: Bullsh-Aaaahhhh?!! Neo?!

Neo: 😈

Jaune: Neo?! Get your hands out of my pants?!

Neo: 😙🎵

Jaune: Get your hand off my dick!

Cinder: Neo, wait your turn.

Neo: 😠

Cinder: Emerald, what are you waiting for, get to it.

Emerald: …

Emerald: Okay… Let’s do this!

~~~

Emerald: …

Neo: …

Emerald: I can’t feel my legs…

Neo: 🤕

Emerald: Worth it~!

Neo: 🥰

[bonefall]

For Riverstar’s Heir, do you have any idea where you want to land themeatically? Because from my reading of the possible themeatic directions, with the whole story being about this crisis of politics and succession, it feels like the character who “should” become the next leader of RiverClan narratively should be the Most ruthless/aggressive/willing to resort to dishonorable methods of dealing with rivals (reinforcing RiverClan’s entry into/building up of the early Clans’ emerging systems of battle society)

The alternative “most interesting” option I can imagine would be one that is least likely/least aggressive/some otherwise sort of underdog candidate (maybe not even technically “legal” depending on what qualifications there are for heirship?), but I’m not sure exactly what themes that would play into, other than maybe how the pursuit of power can change someone?

That said, your themeatic instincts are strong enough that I can see you having a strong idea for a “middle-of-the-pack” candidate winning out over the others just as much, so— I am genuinely curious what your thoughts are for where you Want this crisis of succession to end, narratively, even if you don’t have an exact cat picked yet.

Good ask because I'd not been clear about the theme yet, I think. What Riverstar's Heir is trying to get at, at the heart of the issue, is that this is a bloodbath caused by naiive optimism and greed.

The commandments to establish borders and prevent killing are nice, but not enough. You can't just have a society on good will, not when POWER is up for grabs in the scramble. It's about collapse, and how innocent, well-meaning people get caught up in the devastation. Not JUST the troublemakers.

Riverstar was an EXCELLENT king, beloved and wise, but if you don't prepare a proper successor, everything you worked hard to build might crumble to ruin.

Something unique is lost in this shuffle. It's no longer the River Kingdom, and the Wind Coalition also becomes WindClan at this point. For better, and for worse, they both lose a bit of what made them special. Redscar's choice at the end also solidifies the early political power of Clerics, which is eventually broken many generations later with Larkwing's Strike.

So, fragment time,

At LEAST three "heirs" end up getting killed.

So, because these ones are gonna die, I have Three Heir "Slots" that I'm committed to and just need to fill;

The Eldest, Riverstar's oldest living biological child.

The Chosen, Riverstar's adopted heir, a rather meek prince easily pressured into backing off his rightful claim. This one is likely going to be the BB! version of Mossfire.

The Firstblood, directly descended from Riverstar's FIRSTborn child. This one is likely going to be the BB! version of Jumpfoot.

I also have two tentative slots.

The Accomplished... who is a blood relative of Riverstar, but more of a "puppet" for WindCo. Someone they're intentionally propping up hoping for power.

The Diplomat, from WindClan, who is a lot like WindCo's puppet but this one is more subtle about it. Poetic. Happy to purr and remind the world of the wonderful, deep ties that had existed between King Riverstar and Thunderstar.

And, LASTLY, there's The Deputy. The most qualified choice, who served Riverstar, but was no relative.

It feels right that the Deputy is the one who is chosen in the end... hm.

Anyway

After a smaller conflict near the start of the story, either The Eldest or The Firstblood seems to be the favorite to win... but decides to wait for the morning to set out for the Moonstone and take their lives.

In this time period, without selecting a successor, this heir is assassinated.

In fact it might be VERY fun if this heir, being so much like King Riverstar himself, decided to throw a pre-emptive celebration.

Meat! Merriment! MURDER!!!

Having them go out via poison would be a fun way to send a character off.

This is going to be why the "DEPUTY BEFORE MOONHIGH" rule is established, but it's also what kicks off the bloodier parts of the plot.

Thinking about it... a cleric and/or the deputy should probably tell this heir, "Hey, buddy, you should really get going" and they're ignored.

With Eldest Heir gone, the small conflict from earlier becomes an LARGE conflict.

And, like they did back in DOTC, families start to rally together. Especially Eldest's offspring, who think they're just as entitled to the Throne as The Firstblood/Jumpfoot

King Riverstar used to encourage cats to enter the River Kingdom freely. The borders were essentially open, and everyone was allowed in, as long as they were willing to cross the river.

(maybe I'll even have him pull down the tree from Riverstar's Home intentionally, happy to accept other cats into his Kingdom. Then he defends it from Skystar, specifically, but refuses to destroy what he built.)

This had allowed River Kingdom to grow large and powerful, but it also meant everyone in River Kingdom had connections to the other Clans.

Which meant there were cats supporting OTHER bids to the Throne, like the one from WindCo and the one from ThunderClan.

Smelling a way to grab power, Duststar supports his favorite heir, and Whitestar of ThunderClan also begins to stick his nose in.

Each Heir tries to run the River Kingdom, and things start to get hostile. If there's more than just the three heirs, even more of them start to get openly attacked, chased out, killed, until there's only The Chosen and The Firstblood left.

Somewhere around here, River Kingdom is invaded. Probably by the leader of SkyClan at the time, claiming that they don't even NEED an heir to take what these cats clearly don't deserve.

And that's when the internal conflict becomes a FULL-BLOWN WAR between four Clans.

In those days, the camp was at Sunningrocks, right in the middle of the river.

ThunderClan jumps in to help its "Ally" against SkyClan, just like historical precedent, but they have NO IDEA who they're fighting against, because the whole Kingdom is divided. It's not as simple as it was in DOTC anymore.

WindCo came to support its favorite heir, but its cats don't obey Duststar's orders when it comes down to fighting their own friends and family, meaning they're functionally fighting EVERYONE and losing a TON of cats

SkyClan is getting pummeled because EVERY group is pissed at them as well as each other, getting a painful awakening that they are NOT being run by Skystar the War God anymore and they're no longer the biggest, baddest bananas in the bunch

(shadowclan is watching all of this and eating popcorn. moisturized. in their lane. unbothered.)

The climax here, between The Chosen and The Firstblood, is a battle that matches the chapter from COTC. They launch at each other, in a battle to the death.

The first Sunningrocks Battle.

They both wear "crowns" on their head, one custom made for Mossfire's short-furred head, and traditional, braided into Jumpfoot's long, lush fur.

As they claw, bite, and tumble, they plunge into the river.

Fighting and hissing, they try to pull apart to rise up for air-- and can't.

They're STUCK

The crowns became tangled in their skirmish, and neither one can work with the other to bring them both to shore, against the current.

Both heirs, the last with a proper claim to the throne, drown together in the river.

At the end of the bloodbath, the tone is very somber. The rules were meant to prevent The First Battle from ever happening again... but The Second Battle had just taken place.

The body count wasn't AS high as the First Battle, but it was still a bloody loss. Every Clan lost warriors. Even ShadowClan, who hadn't even been IN the conflict, checked its ranks to find that powerful warriors had run off to go fight with their Kin.

Now they could be buried with them, too.

And now, there was no proper heir. If any descendants were still kicking around, they were refusing to take a throne that so many cats had died for. Jumpfoot and Mossfire never emerged from the River, their bodies, and their legendary crowns, were never found.

At first I'd been considering Redscar being swapped to become a RiverClan Cleric, but now I'm thinking it actually makes sense he's still from ShadowClan. ShadowClan was the ONLY neutral group-- it's reasonable for the clans to turn and request their partiality.

So, Redscar peruses the options, having followed the situation from afar.

His choice, in the end, was The Deputy. The most experienced advisor who knew Riverstar, and probably tried to stay at his adopted daughter's side as well. The closest thing they'd had to a leader all along.

(Thought: Maybe this character will be the POV. Make it like a bit of a fake-out title, you THINK Riverstar's heir is Mossfire. But it's actually been this one all along.)

He creates his famous false sign, and from there, the five groups discussed how they could prevent this from ever happening again.

They create the Law of the Deputy, commanding that ALL Clans have a single Deputy who will inherit the Clan after the leader passes away, ending dynasties in WindCo and River Kingdom and centralizing power in the other 3.

With the massive losses that WindCo and River Kingdom experienced, they also restructure, forced to accept a lot of help from ThunderClan and ShadowClan.

The borders began to close up, leading to the sentiment that would lead to Commandment 4, the Law of Loyalty, in just one more generation.

[crossdressingdeath]

Now that I have everyone's responses to the "Durge was an Absolutist leader" reveal, I have thoughts. I think the whole thing works best if you tell the party about you being Bhaalspawn before going to the inauguration, because if you do that they're all like "It's okay, you don't have to be evil, you can fight your father, you have to fight your father" and while some Durges would probably be upset about the repeated insistence that they Mustn't Be Evil it's definitely well-intentioned and they want to support you. And then you get to the inauguration and they're furious about the Absolutist reveal. Which is mostly fair (Shadowheart getting mad at you specifically for not telling anyone when she knows you have amnesia is just a little unreasonable), but it's also like. all that support goes away the second they learn you weren't a good little non-murdery heroic Bhaalspawn like Gorion's Ward. To be fair, their anger and sense of betrayal are understandable, it's a hell of a thing to learn and I get the sense that the party really doesn't grasp just how strong Bhaal's hold on Durge is (I don't think it's a coincidence that Jaheira and Minsc are two of the calmest about the Bhaalspawn reveal or that Jaheira takes the Bhaal's Chosen reveal better than most of the party, they have more experience and so have a better understanding of what being Bhaalspawn actually means, but even they don't as far as I'm aware know about the "literally crafted from Bhaal's divine essence" situation)! I can definitely see why they for the most part react so overwhelmingly negatively, I would too in their position. But at the same time... poor Durge? I mean, they've just learned that they were a leader of the cult that stuck a tadpole in their and most of their friends' heads and is trying to take over the world. While the response to that would vary depending on the Durge, that's a heavy thing to suddenly have to deal with! And then the closest thing to support they get from the party is Minthara and Jaheira saying "Well, you fucked up big time but you can still sort of make up for it" and a couple party members not responding to it at all. The only person in this situation who seems pleased to have them around right now is Gortash.

...I wonder if that's part of the reason why Gortash chooses to reveal all of this here and now in front of the party rather than trying to find a moment to talk to Durge privately. It wouldn't have been hard for him to say "Well, I want to talk to the leader of your group privately and I won't give you any information until I get to do so," make it into some sort of power play or something and then explain the situation once they were alone. It might even have been smarter, since that way the party wouldn't be suspicious of Durge. But instead he spills the beans in front of everyone, driving a wedge between Durge and the rest of the group. The others love Durge enough to stick by them even after the reveal, but Gortash couldn't have known that would be the case when he told them! It doesn't make sense to deliberately cause problems among the party if he wants them working together as a team to deal with Orin for him, but it does make sense if his ultimate goal is to get rid of the rest of the party so he and Durge can rule together as was the original plan. After all, if the group decided they don't want a (former) Absolutist leader around and chase Durge away, where could Durge go other than straight to Gortash?

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Technoblade had his guard up the moment they stepped foot on Unseelie territory. 

The rumors he had grown up with rang true. As a fae himself, Techno could tell a difference in the magic that ran through these woods. Any creature encountered here could not be trusted.

And that was kind of a problem considering he was pretty much traveling blindly. All they had given him was a vague set of directions and his precious cargo that Techno had to get there. No pointers on how to get across Unseelie land untouched. The guards he had brought with him were capable and Techno wasn't humble about his own skills in a fight. The issue wasn't a threat to their physical safety. But he didn't want to cause an all-out war if he provoked any hostility. 

The last time the two courts had a serious conflict, too many lives were lost. As the leader of this envoy, it was Techno’s responsibility to prevent that from happening again. 

It hadn't been long before he heard something up ahead. It sounded like a lute being played, and the humming of a tune that ran underneath. They continued down the road, until Techno spotted him. A young fae around his age was sitting on a branch that curved over the path. His feet dangled off as he played his instrument.

But Techno wasn’t fooled. He had expected they’d be keeping an eye on the road.

The Unseelie knew about his mission. And they’d do anything to get their hands on something so precious.

Raising a hand to signal his men to stay back, Techno stepped forward. As much as he loathed the intricacies of diplomacy, Techno knew his way around words very well. He’d rather do the talking himself than risk one of the guards misspeaking and getting them into trouble.

“Hullo,” he greeted the man politely enough.

The other fae looked down at him with vivid brown eyes, mouth pulling up into a wicked grin.

“Oh, what’s this? Lost wanderers?” He dropped himself down from the tree to land nimbly on his feet, brown curls bouncing. “Can I have your name? I don’t like talking to strangers.”

“You may know my name,” Techno said, trying not to grin at a slight twitch of the man’s brow in annoyance. Did they really think he’d be that stupid? “It’s Technoblade.”

“I suppose you may know mine too then. Wilbur.” Techno ignored his outstretched hand.

“I need to get to the other side of these woods,” he explained. “You wouldn’t be so chill as to grant us safe passage for free, would you? That’d be pretty pog.”

This time it was Wilbur’s turn to chuckle. With the Unseelie, nothing came without a price.

“Depends on where you need to go. Can I have your map?” Wilbur asked.

“No,” Techno said while handing it to him. “But you can look at it.”

Wilbur unfurled it with a light laugh. “I’m not going to steal your shit.”

“I’ve heard your sort is quite prone to doing that.”

“Nah, we only take what’s interesting to us.” With that, Wilbur’s eyes briefly flicked towards where Techno’s guards were waiting, the paladin with his cargo.

“Safe passage,” Techno reminded him.

“Right, right.” Wilbur bunched the map up into a messy ball and shoved it back at him, starting to walk ahead and gesturing for them to follow. “My family can take you. I’ll bring you to them. And I guarantee no harm will come to you or your shipment.”

“Liar.”

Wilbur froze. The expression on his face was comically confused.

“Fae can’t lie,” he said slowly, almost as if he was testing the water.

“Seelie can’t lie,” Techno corrected - ironically also because Wilbur was right. Seelie couldn’t lie.

Unseelie, on the other hand.

“How did you know I was lying?” Wilbur asked.

Again, Techno found himself unable to speak anything but the truth.

“It’s a talent I’ve had since birth. No clue where it comes from, I can just tell when I’m being lied to.” It was no wonder Techno had been chosen for this mission.

“Interesting,” Wilbur muttered. And when Techno looked at him, Wilbur was staring right back at him, golden-brown eyes even more ablaze with an uncomfortable sort of fascination. “You’re… that’s very interesting.”

Techno shifted on the spot, trying not to instinctively reach for his sword. “Your family?”

“Yes!” Wilbur snapped out of it suddenly, blinking a few times. But he never really looked away from Techno again, his smile that much more unsettling. “Right this way, they’ll be thrilled to meet you. We so rarely get visitors here, I think they’ll really enjoy having you stay.”

And oddly enough, Techno could tell that those words were not a lie.

[thewastes-clangen]

Plagueclan Founders

Before the infection, 3 clans filled the valley; Shoreclan dominated the beaches by the ocean, Peakclan teetered on the edge of the mountains that shadowed the valley, and Meadowclan populated the flower fields in between. When the infection began, it started in Shoreclan. As the survivors moved into Meadowclan territory, they brought the illness with them and it spread further and further, even making its way up the mountains to Peakclan where the survivors made their last stand. When the dust settled, only a handful of cats remained. Battered and bruised they headed back into the valley and created a camp, hoping to find a cure to fight the disease and survive.

The Survivors:

Hailstar-A medium-furred black tabby and white she-cat with pale green eyes.

She/Her;106 moons;Insecure, Incredible Runner, Steady Paws

Aa (susceptible carrier);CHA:10,INS:13

Originally from Peakclan, Hailstar was once an average senior warrior. That is, until the infection began and swept through the other clans like a wildfire. When Peakclan finally faced the plague, Hailstar, then Hailheart, ran in fear and left her clan to defend itself without her. Now, Starclan has chosen her to lead the survivors to the confusion of not only her new clanmates but herself as well.

Tigershadow-A medium-furred dark ginger and black tortie she-cat with yellow eyes.

She/Her;78 moons;Wise,Valuable Insight

Aa (susceptible carrier);CHA:8,INS:16

Tigershadow was once a warrior of Shoreclan. She was a well-loved cat amongst all three clans and thankfully survived the initial outbreak. She lost many loved ones and as the first clan to fall, she watched the entire first wave play out in horror. She survived through it all, though, and while many others think she should've been made leader of the survivors, she is thankful to not have the heavy weight of their survival on her shoulders as Hailstar does. She supports the other she-cat loyally and backs her up on every decision.

Nettlebloom-A medium-furred light brown and dark ginger tortie she-cat with green eyes.

She/Her;96 moons;Bloodthirsty,Trusted Advisor

aa (immune);CHA:14,INS:17

Nettlebloom was once the medicine cat of Meadowclan and served them loyally for many years. However, once the plague began something inside her seemed to change. She became colder and didn't seem to have the same fight for helping her clanmates survive as she once did. Through the protection of her clanmates due to her status, however, she managed to survive the initial outbreak. Now she is intent to find a cure, no matter who she must experiment on to do so.

Tawnystripe-A short-furred gray and golden brown mottled she-cat with hazel eyes.

She/Her;56 moons;Thoughtful,Fast Runner,Talented Swimmer

aa (immune);CHA:8,INS:14

Tawnystripe was a warrior of Shoreclan alongside Tigershadow. She found Cricketkit on the way to Meadowclan after Shoreclan had been defeated and decided to take care of the kit herself. She followed the survivors all the way up the mountains to Peakclan, however she was horrified when they were attacked and Cricketkit was bit. She was not going to sit back and let anyone harm the kit, though, and stood over her with her claws and teeth bared at the ready for days, waiting for a sign that it was the end and vowing to finish her off herself if it came to that. But it never happened, and Cricketkit recovered, proof that there was some sort of defense against the infection. She tends lovingly to the kit still, treating her as a child while giving any cat who comes too close a vicious glare.

Icequill-A long-furred dorsal-striped silver she-cat with blue eyes.

She/Her;54 moons;Playful,Unusually Strong Fighter,Great Kitsitter

Aa (susceptible carrier);CHA:13,INS:7

Icequill was a strong and well-liked warrior of Peakclan. When Peakclan was attacked, she watched in horror as Hailheart ran away, leaving only her and two other warriors to protect the survivors. She fought viciously and was the last one of Peakclan standing. Once she saw that Cricketkit was bitten, she decided she would take the heavy burden of killing the poor kit, a merciful task. However, she was viciously attacked by Tawnystripe and was strangely beaten by the maternal she-cat, something that had never happened to her before. She was shocked when Hailstar was made leader, and angry that Starclan would choose a coward to protect the survivors, however she does respect Tigershadow and hopes Hailstar gets what's coming to her quickly.

Goldenrose-A long-furred white and speckled pale ginger she-cat with gold eyes.

She/Her;27 moons;Calm,Talented Swimmer

AA (susceptible);CHA:9,INS:11

Goldenrose and her brother, Daisypaw, are the last survivors of Meadowclan other than Nettlebloom. Goldenrose is terrified of the she-cat, knowing what her goals are and what she would do to any of the survivors if she had the chance. She stays far away from the medicine cat and quietly tends to her brother, who has been traumatized from the plague and the loss of the rest of his clan. She is uncomfortable amongst so many strangers but knows if she strikes off alone with Daisypaw there is little to no guarantee they would both survive.

Daisypaw-A short-furred white and speckled cream tom with green-yellow eyes.

He/Him;10 moons;Compassionate,Formidable Fighter

aa (immune);CHA:16,INS:11

Daisypaw sticks close to his sister, Goldenrose, who also forced her way into being his mentor. He is a bleeding heart and is overly attached to anyone who shows him any kindness due to the loss of his clan. He has a great interest in Nettlebloom due to her familiar face but is constantly dragged away from her by a terrified Goldenrose. He keeps to himself unless speaking to Goldenrose, but Cricketkit seems to be one of the only other cats to be able to get him to crack a smile.

Cricketkit-A short-furred white and masked silver tabby she-cat with pale yellow eyes and a bite scar on her neck.

She/They;3 moons;Compassionate

aa (immune)

Cricketkit was abandoned at the start of the plague. Tawnystripe found her and took care of her as the remainder of the clans gathered in Peakclan. However, during the attack on the last fortress she was bitten. Sure the worse was about to happen, Icequill stepped forwards to do the sorrowful task of killing the young kit. Tawnystripe defended her brutally, however, wrestling Icequill to the ground until the she-cat and all the rest of the clan agreed to wait. How much damage could an infected kit do, anyways? It was a miracle and surprise when nothing happened and Cricketkit recovered from the bite. Tawnystripe tends lovingly to the kit, defending her from any attempts by Nettlebloom to use her for "experiments".

[cerastes]

Does Chongyue rate on the Just Some Guy spectrum at all, considering how much work he’s put into not being Sui-related?

Chongyue doesn’t exist in the Just Some Guy spectrum in a way we’ve discussed yet, even though he has some overlap, because ultimately his essence conflicts with Some Guyhood on a fundamental level (of what has been discussed in Just Some Guy academia so far at least).

Just Some Guys all have the desire, and sometimes the expertise, to actually come across as Some Guys. Chongyue is a centuries old famed invincible general, title of Grandmaster, whose upcoming retirement is great news among leaders and figures of the highest authority and caliber. Chongyue is basically a celebrity and national hero. Chongyue is Mister Satan from Dragon Ball Z if Mister Satan had those Goku dukes and was actually able to throw hands with the biggest, meanest threats, and also a whole deal more humble, but the point is, man’s beyond notorious. Chongyue is A Guy, not Just Some Guy.

I understand where this sentiment comes from! He’s sealed the Sui consciousness and his true name into his sword, and this isn’t public knowledge, plus, he insists he only knows a little Kung Fu. The thing is, he is technically not wrong about his statement and he truly means it. He’s not trying to obfuscate, and this is a key part of Some Guyhood, he puts it in very laconic but pristine terms to Ling: He considers himself pretty average comparatively, considering the sheer amount of years he’s had to practice and master the martial arts, and confidently says that, were others to have the same set of tools he had, such as natural power and longevity, then anyone could achieve the level he’s at. He’s truly humble and honest about it in a way that is simply outside the scale of most other creatures in Terra to be able to relate to. Of course, this doesn’t mean he’s any less of a one man triple army able to decimate pretty much any quality or quantity of enemies with his martial prowess, but he’s not really underplaying it as much as he’s saying “no yeah but if you had the amount of time I had to grind out these sick spinkicks, you’d also be able to do this”. He’s the Soul Level 846 Chosen Undead that one-shots Kalameet three times over with one R2, and then doesn’t tell you “Oh, no no, it was an accident, haha! Oops!” the way Mr. Nothing would, Chongyue would instead say “Ok you might have found that impressive, but if YOU were Soul Level 846, you could very much do this as well! :)” and he means it! Just because Chongyue can 1cc Super Monkey Ball 2 doesn’t mean he’s particularly exceptional in his eyes, it simply means that it’s the only game he’s ever had for the last 400 years and, if you also played SMB2 for 400 years, you too could land the selfsame sick bounces into goals.

Now, you might be thinking, “wait, that could make him a Jaye of some sort, right?” Not quite! Jaye is truly convinced he’s unexceptional, hell, being exceptional in any way has not even crossed his mind, Jaye lives day to day acutely unaware that he has direct ties to both men you could consider the leaders of Lungmen. Chongyue is well aware that he’s a Sui fragment, and this, he hides, though less with the sundering desperation of someone who REALLY doesn’t want to be found out (like Nothing), and more like someone who’s got responsibilities to uphold, but if it ends up spilling out that he’s a Sui fragment, simply goes “Oh, it seems you know, alright,” and then take the appropriate action depending on what’s the most sensible road to take. Mr. Nothing and Sesa go out of their way to act like buffoons and charlatans for the express purpose of obfuscating their respective masteries, Chongyue has no qualms publicly showing his immense power and physical abilities to onlookers. 

If we had to put Chongyue in the Just Some Guy spectrum, he’d had to be on his own little space as A Guy That Thinks You Too Can Be A Guy. He’s not Just Some Guy, he’s definitely A Guy and makes no secret about it (without revealing ALL that makes him A Guy), but he also believes that you, with enough effort, time, and support, can also become A Guy of his caliber, and that he’s nothing special, he just has 6521 hours in TF2 and that’s why he can rocket surf and land air shots with the Direct Hit with 100% accuracy, not because he’s exceptional necessarily.

[tezzbot]

Okay.. so... fairly long post under the cut with the sort of background to my Sonic Underground AU!! If anyone's interested fjdgv I have thought about it a Lot lol

So basically, The background is that Eggman has definitely been up to shit since before Sonic was born lol and one of his sort of things when he I guess started out in villainy ? was he started trying to claim land and take over so that he could build his cities and theme parks and factories and what have you and rule over everything. So, after claiming some untouched land he started attacking “Mobian'' settlements, (not sure whether to stick with Mobian or what but the word gets my point across so I’m using it now sfgdh) and I guess started working his way up until he found Christmas Island, which is the small Kingdom Aleena ruled over at the time. This caused the Kingdom to fight back and started a war with Robotnik. However. Obviously the warzone was no place to be raising the Very recently born heirs to the throne (the three who would grow up to be Sonia Sonic and Manic, they might’ve had different names back then lol) and so Aleena with a Very heavy heart sent the three Far away, they had them sent to a dinky little orphanage in a fairly distant zone, intending to pick them back up when the war was over.

Unfortunately, Very early on in the triplet’s stay at the orphanage, when they were still practically babies, an unfortunate cot placement led to Manic being kidnapped sometime in the dead of night (don’t ask why they did it I just think it’s funny love and light). He was taken to a nearby city, and somehow managed to endear himself to Ferral, the leader of one of the larger sort of crime rings active there. This is where he learned to get by and live and thrive, little crime family they love each other and rag on each other so much smile smile smile.

Sonic stayed in the orphanage a lot longer than Manic, but doesn’t really remember his time there all that much. As soon as Sonic figured out how to, he ran. Ran as fast and as far as he was able. Ran until he had no idea how to get back. But he'd not a guilt on his conscience. He was free, for the first time felt truly free. He learned how to survive on his own and met a little two tailed fox cub and his life played out pretty much exactly the same as it does in the main line continuity :)

Sonia is the only one of the three who has any memory of staying in the orphanage and was the only one to leave there by regular means dgfhfg. At about five years old, she was one of a few girls from across the continent to be chosen to attend and live at an all girls school where they would grow into proper ladies™, being taught etiquette and manners and so on. She managed a fairly cushy lifestyle here but was never truly happy there. She obviously has her besties like Mindy, but it always felt far too restrictive and (figuratively) cold. So while she does do well there, she is slightly prone to getting in trouble and feels kind of belittled and invisible among her peers at times

So in the triplet’s maybe 3rd year? The war on Christmas Island ended and the Mobians were unfortunately forced to go into hiding. Aleena made it out and went into her own hiding in the form of laying low in a residential area in a nearby city, and attempted to blend in there for a few years before making the trip to finally reunite with her children. Unfortunately by the time she gets there, all three are gone :( Even though the orphanage may know where Sonia is, she feels as though she has failed all three as their mother and wouldn't be able to face any of them (despite the fact they're like. 6 year olds lol), and so retreats back to her city home.

Until, over a decade later, Aleena sees the world renowned hero Sonic the Hedgehog that she hears so much about, (maybe he’s just saved that part of the city from a badnik attack or something like that) and there is just… something about him that is so uncannily like her Bernie… His heroism and humility right down to his mannerisms, the being blue also adds to the effect. And… Aleena is not one to get her hopes up, but the chance of this being one of her missing children after all these years…

Then I’m thinking maybe, she is wearing the equivalent of the three medallions and, maybe as she gets closer to Sonic one of them has some sort of magical reaction ? or something I’m not actually sure. But something DOES confirm to Aleena that This is one of her kids oh my god!! And he’s just like his (other) mother… Aleena gets overwhelmed and ends up not talking to him. Sonic maybe notices someone in a long flowy jacket running away from the crowd, but gets distracted by the many other thankful citizens around him to really take note of it lol

This is when Aleena writes her letter to Sonic. She looks him up, tries very hard to find out where he lives. Ultimately coming up with nothing she’s like IS MY BOY HOMELESS?? But then what comes up eventually is a plethora of small garages and laboratories under the name Dr. Miles Prower and is like Oh! An apprentice maybe :) lol and so she rolls the dice and chooses one of those locations at random and hopes her message gets to him soon.

This is just the leadup to what would be the "main plot" of the AU and I do have more for it!! So if this like. Text based way of explaining my ideas is alright I can share more from the google doc if ppl are interested!! And maybe I'll doodle some stuff for it here n there who know (seems likely tho lol)