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lightlycareless · 5 months

Note

Hiii, can i request a scenario on how naoya (when he has reached a point where he loves wife!reader from an arranged marriage) would react to one day not being greeted at all when he comes home? It is completely silent, no response as he calls for her and is getting a bit worried as he starts searching the rooms. But then he sees her laying on the couch, shivering and sweating from a cold that’s so intense she’s barely lucid and can’t even tell he’s there and talking to her

Heya!!

So... I took some liberties when writing this, kind of went a completely different route (the sick part, alongside worried Naoya still remains though), it just occurred to me when reading your ask, but I hope it's still of your liking 🥺!!!

anyways, here are the warnings: mentions of death, miscarriage, a very concerned and overprotective Naoya, a bit of fluff, and everyone wants to spoil you rotten lol.

And without further ado, happy reading!

“Y/N, I’m home!”

Home.

A word he never really cared for, always considering it sappy, alongside the fondness that was usually assigned to it, which Naoya couldn’t think of as nothing but ridiculous, if not hilariously overrated.

For many years, Naoya thought that a home was simply the place that one was raised in and that’s about it. Nothing of the sentimentality others liked to apply to it, brag about it…

Until, of course, he finally came to understand what the word meant; why it was so special, and why it was important to have one.

A home wasn’t made by the people he knew as family, blood related, found in the place he was forced to be in since he was born, and probably die in—no; it’s the one that was made by the people of his choice, people he met through his course of life, connected with, and now, cherished.

Amongst them, you.

He considered himself lucky to have found the love of his life, a concept he considered so… foreign, impossible for someone like him, if not a stupidity of delusional people desiring more from life.

So was Naoya destined to think for the rest of his existence, condemned by his same family to live a life of loneliness, hatred, and die the same way.

But you’d come to show him otherwise, shockingly, and unexpectedly, and in such a way he couldn’t even put up a fight, completely surrendering to you and the wonderful feelings that being in love with you provided.

Now that he’s experienced them, he couldn’t find the reason as to why his family would ever reproach such beautiful thing as harshly as they did—or that he believed them in the first place…

Well, that’s not something that bothers him anymore; the Zen’in clan could continue on in their hard stuck ways for all he cared; he, on the other hand, plans to spend the rest of his days alongside the woman of his dreams, starting by today, finally back in your arms after days of being pulled into pointless missions after pointless missions, which he would not hear of for a few weeks—having earned a well-deserved break for his consistently good performance.

Naoya even prepared accordingly for the occasion, having bought gifts from all the places he’d been to, as well as ideated ways to distract you from the boring estate and his nagging relatives he knows you don’t enjoy being around with, only tolerating them because they were, well, your in-laws, his family—with exceptions of those you do get along, and for them, he’s grateful that they do.

Ah, he couldn’t wait to see you, your face, and the adorable way it brightens up whenever receiving him.

To tell you of his day while resting his head on your lap, with you passing your fingers through his hair, gently soothing his stresses away as you reassure him that he’s the best sorcerer out there, he’s just… unlucky to bump into lesser talented ones.

Get something to eat too, he’d like his favorite for a start, miso soup—and perhaps have you feed it to him? God, it’s been a while since both have done that, and it’s not because he doesn’t like doing it, or you for that matter, but rather, he doesn’t want to risk being seen by others, it has to be in the utmost privacy, after all! He isn’t to be vulnerable in front of his family!!

Oh, he needs wishes to see you—right now. And he’s absolutely sure you’re feeling the same way…

If so… why hadn’t you responded? Why hadn’t you come to receive him in the same manner you’ve always done?

Naoya knows that his schedule can be a bit… unpredictable, making it difficult for you to know exactly when he’ll come back home—but even then, it didn’t take you that long to meet him after announcing his return.

You’d always come to the entrance, no matter if it happened right that moment, or a bit later; you just… did.

But today… it seems that you opted to break the routine by taking far longer than you usually do.

He’d remain attentive to his surroundings, hoping to either hear your approaching footsteps or voice softly calling for him at a distance, yet as time went on, he was received with neither…. And Naoya only begins to grow more worried.

Your husband tries to not jump to the worst conclusion just yet, opting to think that you were perhaps simply caught up tending to the house, maybe even partaking in an unwanted conversation with one of his relatives and having trouble brushing them off—for no matter the times you’d reminded them that your husband was back, and you needed to be there to receive him, still acted as if it wasn’t that important.

Things that implied that even when running late, you were still ok.

Yet…

“Y/N!” Naoya calls once again, hoping for a change…

…

Silence.

It’s by this time that he decides it’s better to search for you than to stand around and wait for you to magically appear.

Naoya begins by going into the main wing, eyes scanning through the gardens, your usual place of leisure when not busy, where you’d calmly enjoy the diligently tended for flowers (the ones he had changed to your favorite as soon as he found out which ones they were) while snacking on something, or in the company of your loyal staff—if that were the case of your absence, he understood why you didn’t answer.

But he wouldn’t find you near any of the gardens, or anywhere in fact! A statement that weighed even heavier upon finding out that the staff was in the same predicament as him, for when he asked a nearby servant of your whereabouts, he was received with the following answer:

“We haven’t seen her” Naoya’s heart sinks.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen her?” he breathes. “Where could my wife—did she—did she leave the estate?”

No. You… didn’t. Because that’s not what you told him you’d be doing a few hours ago, after letting you know he was on his way back home; if anything, you replied with how excited you were to see him again and that you’d be eagerly waiting for him!

So obviously, their words didn’t make sense. But if so… where were you?

Naoya now frantically searched for you through every wing, room, space, chamber, closet, just— anywhere, literally anywhere you could be while repeatedly calling out your name in hopes of getting a response, or even a glimpse of you; he doesn’t care what at that point, he’s happy with either!

Yet, the longer he went on without an answer, the bigger his sorrow became, to the point where his mind was machinating nothing but the worst-case scenarios, slowly losing his inhibitions as he repeatedly wondered Where were you? How come no one has seen you? Did he have to escalate this situation?

Just—Where are you, Y/N?!

Thankfully, there would be no need to pursue bigger solutions for he’d get his answer soon enough after entering the east wing, passing through the living quarters, and arriving to the laundry room, one of the last places he’d thought you’d be—rightfully guessing so, for you were there, apparently washing whatever garments you had pending, which you hadn’t been able to wash due to a variety of unknown reasons…

But far from feeling elated to have found you, Naoya felt as if whatever he had left of his heart was effectively broken, which felt short compared to the way he found you.

“Y/N!”

The sight that received him is one that will remain imprinted in the back of mind: you were laying on the floor, on your side, tightly clutching to your stomach as you breathed heavily, eyes tightly shut while groaning in what Naoya could only interpret as pain.

As if his worries weren’t through the roof at that point, this last conclusion is what urged Naoya to hastily make way to your side, swiftly kneeling to your level as he calls out for you once more.

“Y/N—Y/N” He’d breathe, firmly yet carefully placing his hands over you with intentions of picking you up, but his hold falters when his fingers briefly graze your skin, making him gasp in return. “Y/N you’re—you’re burning!”

This would be the only time you’d respond to him, barely able to move your head onto his direction, slightly opening your eyes to see him, a gaze that shows how much pain you were going through, barely able to understand what was going on, except for gently breathing the word that makes his heart squeeze out in pain.

“Na—Naoya…”

Any hesitation is effectively thrown out the window by that point, picking you up and rushing you towards their shared bedroom, all while barking orders to the nearby staff, demanding them to call for a doctor, as quickly as possible, unless they wanted to be jobless by the end of the day!

The staff reacts accordingly, and a few minutes later, the family doctor arrives to the estate, guided to your room and seeing that you were already being tended to, or at least that’s the idea he gets from the dampened towel on your forehead, undoubtedly in efforts of lowering your fever—which unfortunately, had been for nothing.

Well, he was there now, and he didn’t waste time either to get to work, quickly assessing your condition by the apparent symptoms, starting by your temperature, the color of your skin, and even the way you reacted to him while doing so, completely uncooperative—apparently, whatever put you in this state had evoked great instability from you, thus the doctor found it necessary to put you under sedatives.

But even when he was able to quickly gain control of the situation, the doctor still couldn’t arrive at a proper conclusion, less when the people around you had an even smaller idea of what struck you.

“I—I don’t know.” Naoya would respond, angrily, frustrated—and rightfully so. How come none of the servants had noticed your absence? Or worse, hadn’t seen anything that could hint as to what your sickness was about?! “Can’t you just—help her?!”

“That’s what I’m trying—I can’t help her if I don’t know what I’m dealing with.” The doctor responded as calmly as he could, but even he had to admit that everyone’s seeming ignorance annoyed him as well. “But I can still say that this seems much more than just a simple… sickness.”

“What do you mean?” Naoya frowns, the doctor looks at the nearby servants, tasked to be on stand-by if needed.

“I’d like to discuss this in private.” He tells them.

The servants don’t wait for Naoya to repeat the order before they’re already out the room and away from their earshot; a request that while didn’t raise any concerns from Naoya —if anything, he was glad their pesky, useless presence, was finally away from you— the doctor’s face was quick to convince your husband that something far worse than what met the eye.

And this made Naoya’s nerves reach a new limit.

“I told you; I don’t know what happened—” Your husband is quick to defend, believing the doctor was to interrogate him once more, only to be interrupted.

“You don’t need to tell me for me to know what happened.” He interjects, Naoya’s eyes widen.

“I’m lost.” Naoya scowls. “Stop talking cryptically and get on with it!”

“I’ve seen these symptoms before, Naoya. And as I said, these are not from a simple sickness, an allergy or any of the matter” He takes a deep breath. “I heavily suspect she was intoxicated—and not accidentally, but rather, intentionally.”

“Excuse me?” Naoya frowns. “I told you to stop talking in riddles, say what you—”

“Poisoned, Naoya. I believe your wife was poisoned.”

Naoya’s world comes to a screeching halt.

You…

You were poisoned.

According to the doctor, you—You were attacked, besieged, with malicious intents.

Taken advantage of in the one place you’d never be on edge, your home, the same one he had repeatedly reassured your father that you’d be safe in—the Zen’in estate, home to the prestigious Zen’in clan! There was no safer place in the whole world! There couldn’t!

No one— no one wouldn’t dare do such a thing here—they knew better! Naoya would force them to now better…

Yet, someone dared to commit this transgression against you.

And to make it all worse….

Almost got away with it.

Who would even think of doing such transgression against you?! You?!

You had no quarrels with anyone, and even when you did, you handled things in such an amicable way just so you’d live peacefully, free of nonsensical arguments—you had no space for them in your life!

And yet, this still happened, and right underneath his nose….

There’s no doubt that he’ll put an investigation into order to find the bastard responsible for your suffering, and once he does, he’ll make him regret his existence, to the point he’ll have him begging for mercy—and even then, it wouldn’t be enough for Naoya.

However, that is something that will have to wait until he knows you’re safe, healthier, which the doctor had slowly began to help you with by giving you something that will immediately trap the poison from being further absorbed by your blood—activated charcoal, so he remembers— as well as some other prescriptions for side effects he wishes to prevent.

“Your wife was very lucky to survive, have you waited a second more—”

��I wasn’t waiting.” Your husband immediately responds, offended by his wording. “I wasn’t aware of this until I returned.”

The doctor presses his lips together, taking notice that throughout his whole visit, Naoya has never left your side, nor freed your hands from his.

“And I’m not surprised.” He silently admits.

Naoya hates the notion the doctor was implying, that this was an inside job. But considering the odd behavior of the staff, their seeming ignorance of your location and your status… it all pointed to that same conclusion.

The boiling fury inside him grows bigger.

“How could this be?” Naoya seethes.

How could someone get this far, this close to you, and no one suspecting a thing?

Your husband might’ve reproached the way the doctor expressed himself, but there was an undeniable truth behind them; he truly was lucky to have gotten back home just when he did, for had he taken a second longer, just one, you could’ve die—

Outside of that, the second most important question regarding this whole situation was…where was your staff? Why, of all days, were they absent?

Naoya is confident that if Mariya, your closest confidant, had been around, this would’ve never happened in the first place; the moment she saw anything out of the ordinary, she would’ve pulled all the stops and acted accordingly.

Yet, she was nowhere to be seen, and this makes Naoya both highly suspicious, and furious.

Where was she? Where are the rest? Why would they leave you in your most needed time? Did they plan this? Plot against you?! Where the hell could they possibly—

“They’re going to be away for the weekend to visit their families.”

He suddenly remembers; you told him so earlier that week through a text.

“Will you be ok?” Naoya also remembers asking; he didn’t feel happy knowing you’d be alone without your most trusted staff.

“It’s just a few days, Naoya. Besides, they deserve a break! I don’t want them to get tired of me, you know?” you laugh. “But you better come back quickly, ok? Just because they’re not around doesn’t mean I like being alone…”

“I won’t take long. I promise.”

If only he’d kept his word…

Well, if that was to be the answer to their absence, then it wasn’t fair to hold any level of animosity towards them, a weight being lifted from his burdened shoulders upon realizing your staff could strill be trusted in.

Now all that was left to worry about is finding the culprit… and the status of that too.

“Is she ok?” Naoya would ask.

“She is, I managed to—”

“No, I mean… that.” Naoya’s voice hints to a silent agreement between the two. “Is… that ok?”

The doctor quickly catches what he means, affirming so by a nod. His reassurance lifts an immeasurable weight from his heart, even greater than the alleged betrayal of Mariya and the rest. One less thing to worry about.

“What now, then?”

“Since the damage was limited, to say the least, it won’t be necessary to move her to a hospital, however—”

She’s still in danger. Naoya concludes. More so if the attack came from someone inside… And what makes him think that just because he’s back they’ll stop trying?

If anything, seeing how close they got, they could try once again!

The mere thought is enough to push him into taking what is perhaps the most radical decision he could’ve taken in this situation, something that might come to torment him in the future, but until then, he won’t care, not even a bit; not when he had your safety to worry about:

That is… Naoya fired everyone, effective immediately.

He took no heed if any of them had been serving the family for years, if they were close friends of his father, or if their livelihood would be affected— Naoya just wanted them out of his sight, the estate, and as soon as possible, less they wanted to receive more of his anger, before continuing with the rest of his plan.

Due to the gravity of said situation, Naoya knew he had to contact your family; he also knew that you would’ve refuted the idea as soon as he mentioned it to you, not wanting to worry them if you’ve truly been attacked, but he couldn’t do this to your father; not when he was amongst the few people in the world he knew had your wellbeing as utmost priority— as well as holding a great amount of respect and appreciation for him, specifically for the way he welcomed him into your family.

Eiichi, your father, had to admit that getting a call from the Zen’in estate that didn’t come from you surely surprised him beyond any comprehension, and yet, that would be nothing compared to the shock he’d get upon knowing the motive behind said call; Naoya swore he almost heard your father passing out, or at least, in the process of.

“Poisoned?!” Eiichi gasped, tightly clutching onto the phone—he might’ve as well passed out and dived into a nightmare! “Is she ok?! Where is she right now?”

“At the estate, with me—the doctor didn’t think it necessary for her to be hospitalized since he was able to stop the poison from spreading any further, but she still needs rest.”

“And the baby?” the referenced secret between Naoya and the doctor; your pregnancy.

“Fine.” He breathes, swallowing. “The doctor didn’t tell me of any damage done to the baby… but I’m—I’m still taking her to the doctor, just—just to be sure.”

“How could this happen?” Eiichi laments, heart breaking not only for you, but for Naoya as well. Your father knew all too well what it was to lose the love of his life, a pain that he would never desire on anyone, not even his own enemies…

One that he could slowly begin to hear in Naoya’s voice; oh, he could only imagine the pain he was going through, or what waited for him if he had lost not only you, but his child too.

But, well, the worst is over… at least for now.

“Someone from the staff did it.” Naoya declares, Eiichi’s heart sinks even further. “But I’ve taken care of it, I’ve fired everyone.”

And your father, contrary to Naoya’s relatives, did not question him. If anything, he seconded his decision, because had he been in your husband’s shoes, he would’ve done the same thing.

“Was her staff involved?” Your father asks, feeling a slight… anger with the idea that the ones you greatly cherished could’ve plotted against you.

“No, they were not; in fact, they were out of the estate when all this went down.” Naoya responds. “But I know that if they had been here, this would’ve never happened in the first place.”

“Bring her here, with me.” Eiichi immediately suggested, Naoya blinks, startled by the idea, if not against it.

“Father—"

“We can take care of her while she’s recuperating, take her to the doctor too. I’ll make sure that she has everything she needs. And not to misjudge your staff, or lack of, but the people here would never hurt her—they’ve known her since she was a child! There won’t be another safer place for her to be than here, Naoya. At least… until she’s better.”

Previously, Naoya would’ve questioned the veracity of his words, done all he could to prove you were much better with him, but after this occurrence… he had to agree.

As much as it hurt him to know you’d be away from him, especially when you were pregnant… he knew this was the right decision to make. He couldn’t expose you to another similar situation—not even if he got a completely new staff… or if you didn’t want to leave.

So, Naoya accepts Eiichi’s suggestion, alongside buying him a ticket for the earliest available flight to Kyoto; a few hours later, your father would arrive to the estate, rushing to your side, keeping you company while tending to your every need as Naoya prepared everything for your departure.

When you eventually regained consciousness, you were (although a bit surprised) overwhelmingly elated to see your father visiting you, for it had been so long since you’d seen him, probably around the time you announced your pregnancy!

However, that excitement would soon diminish when Naoya told you why he was there… alongside the cryptic explanation of your “sickness.”

“It was an allergy.” Naoya would say, not wanting to stress you by the fact that you were intentionally poisoned, although that excuse did little to stop you from doing so. “Rare, but it can happen, especially with pregnant women.”

“An allergy…? But I didn’t…” you frown.

“It happened to your mother, once.” Eiichi followed Naoya’s lead. He hated lying to you, but… he concurred that keeping you safe, both mentally and physically, was worth doing so. “It’s nothing but hormonal changes, so don’t worry much about it.”

“I guess…” you frown, pressing your lips. “But that still doesn’t explain why I have to leave.”

“We need to check what caused your allergy” Naoya responds. “It might be something about the food, the flowers, or even the wood; I rather you be safe than to go through that scare again.”

“But is… all this really necessary?” Naoya gives you a tight smile and a nod. “Naoya, I—"

“It’s not all bad, Y/N.” Naoya says.

“Besides, don’t you want to spend time with your papa? It’s been so long since I’ve spent time with my adorable pumpkin!” Eiichi laments.

“Dad!” you gasp, flustered by his words. “Don’t—don’t say that in front of Naoya…”

“What? It’s true! And that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do since I learned I’m going to be a grandfather!”

“Stop it!” your face becomes redder. “You’re embarrassing me!”

Naoya chuckles; it’s not like he’s seen you in… worse situations. Or better?

“But… I guess a visit is overdue.” You eventually concede, Naoya and your father sigh out of relief. “Though what about Mariya, Haruko, and Hitomi?”

“They’ll go with you, if you want.” Naoya says; he doubts they’ll say no, especially after knowing of the whole fiasco that occurred when away, might even offer themselves before he suggests the idea.

“If I didn’t know any better, sounds like you want me gone.” You jest, Naoya frowns. “It’s a joke, of course…”

“There’s nothing more I would like than you staying here, but until we figure out what caused that reaction from you, I’d rather not risk it.”

“It’s only temporary, Y/N. Besides, look—I brought you gifts!” Eiichi says, taking out the bag he brought from home seemingly out of nowhere, filled with things he knew you’d love, such as sweets, your favorite mochi’s of course, alongside some plushies that would always brighten your day when you were a child. “And there’s much more back home…”

Naoya can’t help but feel relieved you had your father for support, but at the same time, a bit jealous and, well, threatened. Not for bad reasons, of course, it was simply because how the hell did he not think of bringing you gifts first?!

“Dad… you’re embarrassing me in front of Naoya.”

“Ah, that’s a parent’s bane, isn’t it? To always embarrass their children—you’ll see what I mean when you both have your baby.”

Perhaps the main reason why you ended up agreeing to leave was because your pregnancy did not seem affected by your supposed allergy; had it been you would’ve refused to leave your husband’s side!

… Well, you still would’ve refused either way, but perhaps a bit more. You hate the idea of being away from the father of your child for too long, after all.

“I don’t think so—Naoya and I are going to be the cool parents, you’ll see.”

“That’s what your mom and I thought, and look at me now, can’t even say anything without you telling me I’m embarrassing you!” Eiichi says, you chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mom was cool! You were always the funny one!”

Naoya smiles.

Now he knows for sure that there’s no safer place for you to be in than with your family, even if that were to be on the other side of the country…

After Naoya prepared everything for your departure, the three eventually made way to the exit, where you and your father would bid their last goodbyes.

“Won’t you accompany me?” you ask, a slight pout on your face, he smiles in hopes to cheer you up, but really, he felt miserable.

“I want to, but I can’t.” He explains. “I have to deal with this as fast as possible if you’re to come back quickly.”

“… Will you visit me over there, at least?” you frown.

“Yes. As soon as I have a chance, I’ll go see you.” Naoya promises.

It had all been too soon, just a few hours ago he arrived at the estate, and now, you’re leaving. Naoya laments that he couldn’t spend a day with you before your departure… but he guesses this to be a rightful sacrifice for your well-being.

“I wouldn’t dream of keeping away from my wife and baby for too long.”

At those words, Eiichi couldn’t help but frown out of sorrow.

It wasn’t fair that neither of you had been able to enjoy this wonderful occasion as you should.

He still remembers the excitement in your voice, the glint in your eye, and the beaming smile on your lips when announcing your pregnancy—alongside the nerves that came with it, of course, which Eiichi eased by reminding you and Naoya that their enthusiasm was nothing but indicative they were already on their way of becoming the loving and supportive parents their baby needed.

But as excited as both were, Eiichi had to cruelly put a stop to their celebrations, especially after Naobito was made aware of this, who wished to proceed by announcing the news to the whole community.

“I have to disagree, Naobito.” Eiichi would be the first to reject the idea, much to everyone’s surprise—yours, specifically.

“And why is that?” He’d ask back, not understanding why the father of the expecting mother, of all people, would be the one to reject so.

“It’s best if Y/N keeps her pregnancy a secret, at least… until it’s undeniably noticeable.”

“But… why, dad?” you asked. This was a moment of absolute joy, to be treated as such! So why did he intend to keep it a secret? Was he… disappointed?

No. Never. He was nothing but happy to see you happy and become a grandfather himself for the first time in his life!

But as a man of his years, he’s learned to be cautious of how said blessings are to be celebrated, as well as seen his fair share of happiness turn sour… things that Eiichi would rather take upon him than allow them to ever befall you.

“Because there’s people out there that might try to hurt you—or the baby.” He’d explain. “Naobito cannot not deny this, but if anyone hears that you’re pregnant with the Zen’in heir’s baby, those that want to hurt the Zen’in clan, or our family, will see this as the perfect opportunity to do so.”

“I’d never allow such thing, rest assured, there’s no safer place than—” Naoya quickly interjects, wanting to reassure your father, but Eiichi was set on his warnings.

“I wouldn’t have said this if I didn’t see it myself.” Eiichi reminds him, Naoya swallows. “We live in a highly competitive world due to the nature of our families; I’ve lost my wife because of this! And I’d be damned to allow it to happen again to my daughter.”

He hated to remind you of the harsh truth; hated to see how your face would sadden, the excitement for your first child, his first grandchild, quickly disappearing…

“Why would someone do that?” you murmur, frowning.

“They wouldn’t dare—I’ll make sure of it.” Naoya hisses.

Eiichi remained silent, sad for you and your husband. Because even if you’ve experienced first-hand what it is to lose someone through these matters, both have yet to fully understand the extremes those supposedly loyal to them can go to if properly incited. Especially for someone who had so much to lose, just as the elite members of prestigious Zen’in clan.

Even then, your father would not allow such pain to reach you, not the same way it almost did to him and your mother, so, he insisted you keep these news secret from the world—and if you must, only if you must, reveal it to your most faithful ones; the rest could learn when your stomach was too big to deny.

If you do so, keep your baby hidden from the world, safe from those that harbor nothing but pain and sorrow… all will be fine. Eiichi promises so.

…

Or so, that’s what everyone hoped would’ve happened, because if there’s one thing to be learned from this incident, is that no matter how cautious you were, word of your pregnancy still managed to land in the wrong ears, and now, were actively against it.

The question no longer pertained as to how, but rather, who; who was the author of this terrible act?

The notion that someone of Naoya’s relatives, indirectly informed through Naobito’s… drunken rambles, soon crosses the minds of your father and husband. If so, it would make sense as to why they’d use an innocent staff member to do the deed, keep their hands clean of the whole situation, instead of going to bigger extremes.

It’s the most probable of the theories, but they could not annul the following: jealousy from the servants.

Naoya considered that statement to be the most delusional one your father could’ve gathered, but he’d be wise to remember how others perceive him—or more like what he represented. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched that others would desire what he had, or him, in some cases. And naturally, you’re an obstacle to that goal, your baby even more so…

It wasn’t fair, but it was your reality.

Nonetheless, Eiichi and Naoya will still do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

“It’s just for a few days, pumpkin.” Your father would say upon seeing the sadness in your face, which remained even when reassured that Naoya would be with you as soon as possible. “Besides, you’re going to see your brother and sister too—they’ve missed you very much, you know? They’ve been wanting to spoil you and their future niece, or nephew!”

You smile, it’s good that even when in the storm, your family is still able to exude happiness. You could only imagine how enthusiastic they’d be when the baby was finally here.

“I know… I missed them too.” You admit, before looking over to Naoya one last time. “Well… I hope that whatever is keeping you here is quickly dealt with.”

“You won’t even notice I’m gone.” Naoya promises, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything—before you know it, you’ll be back at the estate, with me.”

That’s a promise he unfortunately, doesn’t know if will become true inside the promised timeline, but will do anything in his power so it does.

Either way, it’s safe to say that Naoya did manage to keep one part of his promise—and that would be the one where he reassured you wouldn’t even notice his absence, done through sending you endless amounts of gifts, every day, effectively filling your room to the brim with all things he’d knew you’d like, and some for baby too: from clothes for you, to cute onesies he’d like his baby to wear when she was finally here.

“You still think the baby is going to be a girl?” you’d ask through one of the many videocalls he’d make—one daily, at the very least. “Wait a minute… you better not have spoiled me!”

“I just know” He reiterates with shrug; you roll your eyes. “If not, then I’ll have lots of things to return.”

“Well, if it’s worth anything, I also feel like our baby is going to be a girl.” You smile, warming up Naoya’s heart. “I can’t wait to meet her—I just know she’s going to have your eyes!”

“Or yours, I hope.” He longs, you blush. “Have you been eating well, my love?”

“Yes; and no allergies yet.” You explain, Naoya feels relieved—at least the problem didn’t follow you there. “Maybe I was just unlucky that day, Naoya… Are you sure I can’t return to the estate yet?”

“Not until I’m sure you’re going to be safe here.” Naoya responds, and while his words are meant to be comforting, you can’t shake off the sense that something worse happened; that something far bigger than a simple allergy had struck you, specially with the way your staff and family would act around you, going as far as denying you of any information pertaining to the Zen’in.

But… if your husband had a reason to not say anything now, then the best you could do is trust him. The truth will come out eventually, you suppose. So instead you could focus on other pressing matters.

“Well, at least don’t send me too many gifts.” You continued. “While I appreciate them, between you and my father, I don’t think my house has enough room to store all the things you’ve both given me.”

“Who’s given you more things? Me or your dad?” Naoya nonchalantly asks, you gasp.

“Naoya! That’s not the—take it seriously! Control yourself with the gifts, ok?” you say, he chuckles, but ends up agreeing; at least until the topic has quieted down, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to let your father win the upper hand like that one day ever again. “Or at least save them to when I’m back at the estate… which I hope is soon.”

“Almost there.” Naoya says. “Just a few more things, and we’ll be together once again.”

… even if the answer was to be the same, you still needed to ask.

“Is… everything ok?”

Not precisely, not when he has yet to find out the one responsible for all this…

But he’s gotten a lead, an idea of where to start, of who to hunt—which he knows he’ll find in record time thanks to the fury he harbors, further motivating him to do this as quickly and precisely as possible just so he’d have you back home, with him.

“Nothing you should worry about.” He reiterates. “Just keep focusing on your health, the baby, and not doing anything strenuous.”

“I’m just pregnant, Naoya… nothing extraordinary. I still want to help around., you know?”

“I know, and you’ll be able to do that and more in due time, but for now, keep safe, for me, ok? And our little mochi.”

“When will I see you again?” you ask again, hoping that perhaps this time around, the answer will be different.

“Soon.” He promises. “Soon, my love.”

Once he deals with the bastard that hurt you.

Naoya will give them nothing but a glimpse of the sorrow and pain they’d put you through, his fury—make their life a living hell, make them regret the foolish idea that they could ever get away from it; and still, he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with his revenge.

He’d want more, he’d want everyone to know that his family are not ones to mess around with.

He’d burn the whole world to set the message across if necessary—and that would only be the bare minimum for you, the love of his life, and now, his baby…

His home.

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month

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If it’s alright, I have a question about Vil and Epel’s relationship. I understand that the accent changing plot line is just a cultural politeness thing that didn’t carry over outside of Japan, but the other parts of changing Epel’s behavior don’t quite make sense.

Why exactly is Epel being forced to call macarons his favorite food? And act very soft-spoken? I can’t see how these fit in with the politeness aspect of the table manners, no abrasive language, etc. It just doesn’t give a very good impression, especially in combination with the unfortunate implication of giving Epel a Southern accent for the “change your accent” plot point.

Before I get to responding to the questions posed by this ask, allow me to explain for those who may not be familiar with this controversy! This is so we can all go into reading this post from the same starting point.

I've made titles to denote the explanation of background knowledge and to denote responding to the questions actually asked to me! If you're already familiar with the Vil-Epel-accent debacle then feel free to skip the first section!

Disclaimer: I’m speaking on these concepts as I personally understand them. However, I am not a native Japanese speaker so I’d advise that you consult additional resources with a better understanding of the language and culture. Two resources I enjoy are Yuurei and MysteryShopTLs, who have both also addressed Epel’s accent and how it was localized.

The Accent, EN vs JP

It’s well-known that Epel is a character with a heavy accent who has been explicitly told by Vil, his dorm leader, to alter the way he speaks. In EN, Epel speaks with what appears to be a southern (as in, “from the southern United States”) accent. Therefore, when Vil tells him to stop speaking in the accent, it feels as though Vil is shaming him for his southern roots and culture. This has also led to fans (especially of the EN-only sphere) thinking that Vil believes Epel’s accent is “unrefined” and “makes him sound uncouth/uneducated”, which is why Vil tells Epel to cover it up. I have even received asks conveying as much in the past (here is one example).

In the original JP, Epel speaks in a way that does not closely resemble any real-world Japanese dialect but rather a blend of them. If you ask a native Japanese speaker, they would likely tell you that it is difficult to understand what Epel is saying and that it sounds as though he is speaking rudely or too casually. People could genuinely take offense to the accent because it can be mistaken as something else entirely. This is obviously very different than the real-world accent (which many people can still understand and wouldn’t perceive as rude) that Epel was localized to have. The decision to give him a southern accent, then, does not completely carry over its original JP connotations into EN.

What remains the same in both EN and JP is the reason Vil provides for telling Epel to adjust the way he communicates. As he says in EN, “Speak properly" to which Epel immediately assumes the command comes from a place of elitism/classism and Vil thinking Epel's manner of speaking is beneath him. Vil responds with, "Stop misinterpreting my instructions. I have nothing against your home or its dialect. What I object to is your attitude. Being proud of your home is all well and good, but there is a time and a place for that. The way you address your superiors is entirely unacceptable." (Keep in mind that before this, Epel was the one instigating a fight with Vil and subsequently got his ass whooped for disrespecting an upperclassman. As the victor, he declares that Epel must do as he says--that's the "culture" of NRC. The weak obey the strong, so if Epel wants to do whatever he wants, then Vil challenges him to beat Epel in a fight. Until then, the loser must obey the winner. Epel agrees to these conditions.) This may be a little hard for western English speakers to wrap their heads around, but MANY Asian countries, Japan included, run on a hierarchical system which is embedded even into their languages. Japanese, for example, has honorifics to denote the relationship between the speaker and the listener, as well as variations on the same word depending on the context ("boku", "ore", "watashi", "atashi", etc. are all valid ways to refer to oneself, "onii-san", "onii-sama", "aniki", "kyodai", etc. are all ways to refer to a brother, whether blood-related or not). In some cases, it's considered rude to call others by their first name unless you know them well, and even then it's not common to see a first name without an honorific. This is not as strictly adhered to in English, which is perhaps where a cultural disconnect occurs. What Vil is referring to in his instructions to Epel is what is known in the world of linguistics as "code switching", or changing how one communicates to suit the situation. Part of code switching is changing one's "register", or the level of formality you use. So for example, I could use a colloquial/casual register when I speak with my friends, but I may shift to a more polite and formal register when I speak with my professors, a boss, or an older relative. Vil, then, is critiquing Epel for not speaking politely to his seniors (something which is expected in Japanese culture, but not expected among those in similar grade levels in western cultures).

In the Harveston Sledathon event, we get to venture to Epel's hometown and hear how the locals speak. Indeed, we get more instances of people who speak in the same way Epel does. It's the Harveston dialect, which is so distinctive that it basically sounds like a whole different language. (There are also languages like this in real life; consider Mandarin and Cantonese; technically they are both "Chinese" but Mandarin and Cantonese speakers would not be able to comprehend one another even if they use the same written language). However, it's notable that Marja (Epel's grandmother) and the mayor of Harveston are able to code switch flawlessly into a more standardized tongue. They explain that this is a skill they have developed because it helps in communicating with tourists/visitors to the village and for whenever they travel to the nearby city to sell their wares. This reinforces Vil's point that there is a "time and place" for certain ways of speaking, which Epel needs to consider.

Macarons and Soft-Spokeness

Accent thing aside, some English-speaking fans take issue with Vil's stern treatment of Epel, particularly in instances in which Vil seems to be exerting significant control over his underclassman's behaviors. (Japanese-speaking fans largely do not hold the same sentiment.) Examples of this include Vil forcing Epel to state that his favorite food is macarons, as well as making Epel present as soft-spoken even when he's just among his peers. I will now be addressing both of these points. TO BE CLEAR, I am NOT trying to defend Vil but rather I'm just going to speculate about why the circumstances are the way that they are and/or why perceptions of his attitude may differ.

Starting with macarons! It is stated in Epel's official profile and by Epel himself in his Birthday Boy vignettes that his favorite food is yakiniku (Japanese grilled meat). However, macarons are also listed as his favorite food, and this is notable because he's the only character with two foods listed instead of just one. In the aforementioned Birthday Boy vignettes, Epel is quick to qualify his love of meats with, "Well, I do have one thing I like even more. It's, ah, macarons." When asked what he likes about them, he says, "They're... cute. And sweet! And they come in lots of different flavors." His voice here sounds hesitant, so it's not clear whether he's being entirely honest or not. He even admits in a whisper that, "[Macarons] are not very filling, but still." Epel again complains about macarons being good but not very filling when he has some in the City of Flowers/Fleur City. To this, Azul asks, "Why do you look so unimpressed, Epel? I thought macarons were your favorite food. [...] But was my intel mistaken? Would you prefer something with a stronger flavor profile?" Epel insists he is fine, and Azul responds with, "Excellent, then my intel bears out." This creates some confusion over whether Epel actually likes macarons or not. I doubt that the information Azul has on others is inaccurate. Plus, Epel states of his own free will to the player (who is interviewing him) that he also likes macarons. This leads me to believe that while Epel doesn't outright hate macarons, he does like them alright (but still prefers grilled meat more). The only thing he seems to have an issue with is how unsubstantial macarons are as a food item.

Now... why does Vil make him state that macarons are his favorite food instead of grilled meat? It's sort of touched on in Epel's Ceremonial Robes vignettes. In them, Vil chides Epel for his poor table manners and asks him to state his favorite food. Epel responds with grilled meat/barbeque, which earns him a smack from his dorm leader. (Vil actually smacks Epel multiple times in these vignettes as punishment, which ended up being another source of ire in the English-speaking part of the fandom; such a thing is more common in Asia and its media, so it's not seen as too outrageous in Japan.) "Do my ears deceive me?" Vil says. "I could've sworn I heard a word unfit to be spoken in this noble dorm. I will ask you again. As a student of Pomefiore–a dorm founded upon the tenacity of the Fairest Queen–what is your favorite food?" From this dialogue, it can be surmised that Vil's reasoning for drilling the macarons in as Epel's favorite food is because it is something that is more befitting of the regal "image" of the Fairest Queen and the dorm made in her honor. Vil seems to regard grilled meat as an inelegant food which does not suit the Fairest Queen nor Pomefiore.

The second thing the asker brought up is Epel's soft-spokeness. I guess I'm a little confused by this??? Soft-spokeness is a part of being polite; it ties back to volume control (ie "indoor voice" being softer than "outdoor voice"). I also don't recall a specific instance of Vil chastising Epel for NOT being soft-spoken at all times. He allows Epel to be loud sometimes and raises his voice himself. I feel like volume is not something that Vil harps on as much as other things like cursing or speaking politely to the correct authority figures (unless, of course, volume is important to the level of politeness required for the current conversation). I could be wrong on this though, so please let me know if you know of any specific instances of Vil being mad about Epel speaking loudly that I may have missed! What I do find odd is how... consistently (?) Epel tries to keep polite even when Vil is not around to monitor him. When Vil and Epel first met, Vil makes it clear that there is a "time and place" for Epel's accent, and it's not when addressing seniors. So... by the logic, shouldn't Vil be okay with Epel acting more relaxed or rowdy around first years or more casual settings in general? Why does Epel need to maintain the facade of being polite even when not in the presence of his superiors? Why does Epel seem to even act fearful about word of his misbehavior/rudeness getting back to his dorm leader and even make others swear they won't divulge the incidents to Vil?

One theory I'll propose is the entirety of book 5. Vil was insistent then on having Epel in the NRC Tribe. He wanted to weaponize Epel's cuteness, which he believed could compete with his long-time rival, Neige. This probably fed into Vil's demands for Epel to appear and act dainty and innocent, traits which Neige effortlessly possesses. Vil literally even refers to Epel as his "Poison Apple" that will help him defeat Neige. After book 5, Vil seems to have eased up on his rigidity. However, I will caution that this explanation may or may not align well with vignettes and/or event stories, which do not always work in a cohesive timeline with the main story.

Perhaps a more all-encompassing explanation is... this is probably because Vil is just very strict about how his dorm members present themselves at all times, since they are expansions of Pomefiore and of himself as the leader. Both the macarons and Epel's attitude are reflections of the dorm he (a celebrity who is very aware of the public eyes on him + his reputation) is affiliated with, and Vil won't have them poorly represented. He is the dorm leader, so he has the "right" to rule and impose his ideals as he sees fit. It's a similar situation to Riddle forcing the Heartslabyul students to follow silly, nonsensical rules (because they're tradition) or risk a scolding or a beheading. And again, Epel is following along because (as established in book 5), he has agreed to submit to Vil’s orders until he beats Vil in combat.

At the end of the day, I don't think Epel being forced to call macarons his favorite food is a huge deal. Is anything that big lost in claiming you like something that isn't your actual favorite food? It's not like Vil is forcing Epel to claim he likes eating something that would actually harm him (like, if Epel had an almond allergy or something).

What's more dubious is how VIl governs Epel's attitude and temperament at seemingly all times (to the point of eliciting some apprehension from Epel). Given the most generous reading, maybe it's Vil's way of teaching Epel maturity and how to keep his voice down since Epel had zero of it and acted loudly brazen when he first enrolled. It doesn't help Epel if he's quiet and well-mannered in very limited social situations; it has to be "generalized" or expand to other scenarios for Vil's lessons to truly be instilled in him. (Like... what would happen if Vil DIDN'T hold Epel in check? His classmates would not be able to understand Epel's speech, and he might get into trouble by picking fights with others.) This is a life skill that Epel lacks, unlike his grandma and the Harveston mayor, and Vil's teaching it to him via "tough love" (though whether you approve of his methods or not is up to interpretation). Recall that Vil also teaches Epel to embrace femininity as its own strength and to disregard outdated gender norms--this could be considered another "lesson". I doubt that anything Vil imposes is done maliciously, but rather comes from a place of wanting others to be better and to shine their brightest, even if that path is difficult or painful. Epel, as the rebel in this circumstance, of course does not enjoy being told what to do and misbehaves in small ways. There’s a limit on how much he can misbehave though, as it would hurt his pride to be reminded of his failure to one-up Vil. He's like a kid that doesn't want to be caught cussing or acting out by his parent. It can be seen as immaturity and an unwillingness to change or to grow up, but it can also be seen as someone who wants to freely be able to express themselves or to be their "truest" self. Epel is rowdy and headstrong, and it's difficult for him to repress these parts of himself. Given the least generous reading, Vil is oppressing and stifling Epel in many ways that extend beyond what his dorm leader position should reasonably allow him to do. In fact, a popular fan translation for book 5 is "The Beautiful Oppressor", as Vil is frequently shown limiting the liberties of his NRC Tribe members during their training arc, not just Epel's.

Which is the truth here? Why do those in the English side of the fandom decry Vil's actions and side with Epel whereas the Japanese side see little issue with this?

I wager that this predominantly comes down to, again, cultural differences. Many English-speaking fans are based in the west (particularly the USA and Canada, where the EN servers first launched), places which emphasize individuality and self-expression. Of course they would be more likely to take Epel's side, as he's the one trying to be himself and stand out in his own way. Meanwhile collectivism--an ideology which stresses conformity with a group--dominates in the east. They are more likely to see no problems with Vil's actions because, to them, he is acting in the ways he is to "guide" Epel and show him how to best "fit in" with Pomefiore and at NRC. I believe the whole "being soft-spoken" thing also ties back to cultural differences; speaking loudly is something else that can be considered rude in Japan, so it's entirely possible that Vil encouraging Epel to be soft-spoken is another element of politeness that did not translate well to English (as the western world tends to be much louder and more animated in their conversations).

What it boils down to is that the way Vil and Epel's relationship was written did not work well for a western audience, whose values and perspective is VERY different from the original audience TWST had. It appeals far more to a Japanese fanbase than a western one, and has resulted in many misunderstandings or anger about Vil's character because of this.

I'm not sure if I managed to adequately explain everything, but I hope that this at least helps you to see from a different perspective!!

#twst #twisted wonderland #Vil Schoenheit #Epel Felmier #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #harveston sledathon spoilers #Marja Felmier #notes from the writing raven #question #book 5 spoilers #twst en #twisted wonderland en #Neige LeBlanche #Azul Ashengrotto

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minervamagicka · 10 months

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[SSO Conversion] TS4 Dressage Saddle

At last! It is nigh! Includes 3 different saddles in 2 different polycounts (~13 swatches), with 1 saddlepad overlay (~14 swatches) that is universal to them all. Full LODs & maps.

If you post anything involving this saddle to tumblr & tag me in it, I'll be reblogging!

Important info, additional previews, TOU and download below the cut!

By myself & Schrodcat @ DA 🖤

Choosing a Version

First things first; in the download folder there are two different .rar files to choose from. One is labelled Highpoly and the other is labelled Maxispoly. YOU MUST CHOOSE ONE. THEY WILL OVERRIDE EACHOTHER IF YOU INSTALL BOTH HIGHPOLY AND MAXISPOLY TOGETHER.

The Highpoly version of the saddles is the original mesh resolution from Star Stable Online (which is surprisingly high-quality). However, taking into account the 3D pad and whether there are stirrups or not, it pushes the saddle very far out of EA's expected polycount range (the LOD0 on the Highpoly w/ stirrups clocks in at ~6,044 polys) which is why we have labelled this version as Highpoly. We offer it primarily for simmers who plan to be taking screenshots vs actually playing the game for extended periods of time, or for those with stronger PCs.

The Maxispoly version of the saddle is a decimated version of the mesh intended to be more in-line with Maxis polycounts, and therefore be more performance-friendly. It's about 50% less dense in polys than the Highpoly counterpart (LOD0 on the Maxis w/ stirrups clocks in at ~3,021 polys), however it is still higher-poly than the EA saddles, but again this is because it includes additional mesh details like a 3D saddlepad and/or stirrups, just bear that in mind. This version is for simmers who might have weaker PCs or intend to primarily play the game with the saddles.

Once you've chosen between Highpoly and Maxispoly for your saddle, you'll want to grab the saddlepad overlay .package. This saddlepad (it is found in blankets in CAS) acts like an accessory overlay you'd see for Human content, where it will replace the saddlepad texture on your saddle. You can use the saddlepad overlay without the saddle, but it's not exactly designed for that, as it's designed to match the UVs of the 3D saddlepad. It's unlikely it would fit the EA saddle or any other saddles as just as a flat 2D texture.

All the parts included have custom thumbnails, with the EA fit version having a special identifier.

That concludes all the required reading. Please note that the Realistic Fit of the saddles is not going to line up with EA riding animations and may stretch horribly on them, too. This is because it was rigged and weighted specifically for pose makers. It should look fine when posing. If you want a saddle to fit the EA animations, then the EA Fit version is precisely that, and is meant for gameplay exclusively. The saddlepad overlays are cross-compatible between the Realistic Fit and EA Fit saddles, & any custom saddlepads made by other creators, provided they're intended to fit the UVs, will also be cross-compatible!

Custom Saddlepad Resources (CC Creators Only)

Disclaimer: If you're not a CC Creator you can skip this section and move on to the TOU & download!

If you're interested in making your own saddlepad overlays, I highly recommend cloning the saddlepad overlay included in this download as a starting point. This saddlepad/blanket actually has a "mesh" attached to it (it's just the part of the horse GEOM where the saddlepad texture is) to allow for full normal maps, allowing for better-detail in your saddlepads. Otherwise, you can clone the EA saddlepads and just replace the diffuses with ones you make to fit this saddle, it just won't have that extra jazz.

Anyways, included the folder is a .psd file which is meant to help streamline making saddlepads to fit this mesh (and any future Dressage Saddle meshes/swatches) - There's a guide in the .psd but in general, just keep your textures within the mask/provided guide UVs in the .psd and you'll be golden!

Credit/link to me AND Schrodcat AND note it is a conversion from SSO if you intend to edit, replicate or otherwise use this .package, meshes & textures as a base for your own derivative work. Additionally, at this time, we both ask you do not backport this model or its' textures to TS3.

Do not sell or post behind a paywall, even a timed one. This tumblr is anti-paywall to the extreme. This includes any content that might be created under Rule One. Do not do this. I will think you are an asshole. I have had issues with this in the past and my tolerance for it is absolutely zero. Additionally this asset is exported from a copyrighted game with the intention of it being used transformatively for derivative fanworks; it may be actually illegal to profit from it!

Do not reupload. If you let me know if there's an issue with SFS, I'll reupload it myself. Please link to this post or to the .package on SFS when sharing.

Credits: SSO for the base mesh & textures; Schrodcat with fitting the meshes & testing/screenshots, me for putting it all together into one diabolical package.

Download [SFS]

☕ Buy me a coffee!

☕ Buy SchrodCat a coffee!

#ts4 #ts4 horses #ts4cc #ts4 cc #ts4 horse ranch #ts4 horse cc #sims 4 #sims 4 cc

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svtskneecaps · 3 months

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oh good news for those of us who only saw the english version of the french union call for testimony, or who don't speak french:

when in english they said quackity "half-heartedly" acknowledged things, in the french version the word they used was "demi-mot". having consulted a few dictionaries i THINK it's not a direct translation or at least not a wholly accurate one. from what i'm seeing, "reconnaître à demi-mot" roughly means "to admit indirectly". translation of "demi-mot" directly seems to be something like "implicitly" or "without spelling things out".

i've linked the sources where i found the translations for any english speakers who want to double check and please, any native french speaker who disagrees PLEASE tell me if you have a different translation than was provided, or have insight on the connotation!!

"half-heartedly" implies a lack of personal or emotional investment which i think got a lot of us on the defensive (certainly raised my eyebrow) but i think that's just an imperfect translation. from what i'm seeing, 'demi-mot' doesn't have those same connotations.

(incidentally, putting 'reconnaître à demi-mot' into google translate does produce 'to acknowledge half-heartedly'; no shade, to be clear, considering they're a FRENCH union i wouldn't blame them if they had to use online translation tools, and 'demi-mot' is hard to translate, at least for me)

both english and french versions of the call are linked in this post

ADDITION FROM THE REPLIES:

@selemina : "French speaker here, you are very right! In this context, it could mean "he recognized, without saying so explicitly [...]". Or it is a notion of not enough being said on a subject. There is a layer of secrecy to something said 'à demi-mot', which often implies dishonesty. Applied to this context, I think the union is suspicious of Quackity's latest declaration (probably from seeing many dishonest people in charge before) but still reporting the facts." (THANK YOU!!)

#qsmp #qsmp discourse #merci à mon prof; j'ai fait beaucoup de traduction #je suis prête à trouver des mots difficiles >:)#je ne peux pas parler français mais je peux traduire des mots individuels #sorry francophones lol #sept ans mais je ne sais rien mdr #i thought about asking for correction by french speakers in french but then the phrasing got too complicated and i chickened out #i would be SO EMBARRASSED IF I FUCKED UP #i know native french exist on this website now ;w; ça me fait peur #this post is a mess i'm so nervous to post this lmfao

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kiaxet · 1 year

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So it turns out the latest update in @somerandomdudelmao‘s apocalypse comic has been living in my head, and when that happens I need to get it out, so ~900 words of sad it is!

~~~~~~~~

Donnie is good at birthdays. He has been once he was old enough to understand the concept. It's a point of pride.

Specifically, he's good at presents. According to his data, most people who fail at presents do so because of the guesswork they seem to think needs to be involved. He's never understood the point of that. Data and hypotheses, certainly, but why guess when a definitive answer is available after a simple direct inquiry?

"What do you want for your birthday?"

Early on, the presents are easy. Art supplies. Comics. Stuffed animals. Things he could hand to Papa in an easily followed list format, or obtain for himself once they all got old enough to start safely leaving the lair and venturing into the city above. It's simple and straightforward and so, so easy to get right.

(Of course, he always has an annotated list of his own desired gifts to provide to his brothers; if he's solved the guesswork issue, he may as well make things easy for them too. Plus, that method ensures he gets what he wants.)

Things start getting a little more complicated as he and his brothers get older. Art supplies and comics and stuffed animals are still very much appreciated, and he's documented his brothers' tastes well enough to know exactly what they like, but the answers to his simple direct inquiry are different.

"Dee, can you help me plan this mural out? I think I have enough space, but I could use a hand with the measurements."

"Donton, my half of the day is gonna be a Jupiter Jim marathon, and I need you there. Without your laptop." A beat. "But you can pick one of the movies if you want."

"Hey Donnie, you think you can help me out fixing up the gym? Things just stay put longer if you weld 'em."

After a few years of documentation, Donnie spots the pattern. His brothers appreciate physical gifts from him, certainly, but that's not what they want anymore. What Donnie's family wants from him is time - time outside the lab where he spends a good amount of his days, time spent in conversation or shared activity or simply in the same room. It's not as easy as finding the right physical gift, but if that's what they want, then he's more than happy to provide. Now that he's discerned the pattern, it's just as easy to give his brothers what they want, and Donnie can continue to maintain that he is Good At Birthdays as a point of pride.

~~~~~~~~

The Hamatos don't do birthdays anymore. There's no time in the apocalypse, no supplies, and Donnie is one of the few who actually keeps track of the calendar date. The apocalypse certainly has its share of anniversaries, a list that only grows the more people they lose, but birthdays are no longer celebrated.

With one exception.

Casey Jones Junior, their collective adopted kid, is young enough that birthdays still matter - should still matter. They do their best to keep him safe and keep those days calm and happy for him, despite everything happening around them, and while they don't always succeed, they at least try.

And damn it all, Donatello is still good at birthdays.

"Casey Junior!" He greets the kid with a grin, leaning on his bo like it's not both an inconvenience and a humiliation to need to rely on it in order to stay upright.

"Uncle Tello?"

"Since I'm not very good at guessing, I'll ask straight out." This is not entirely true - he has a list of potential gifts for Casey drafted, with 98% certainty that whatever Casey asks for will align with one of them - but he requires that confirmation to move forward. A certainty in a world where certainty is in short supply. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"My...ah." Casey's expression falls and he looks away, gaze fixed on the paperwork in his hands. Donatello says nothing, pointedly ignoring the elephant in the room in order to give Casey space. "You...can do anything," Casey starts.

"Pretty much, yes." Material issues aside - spirits know he'd have a cure for whatever the Krang had infected him with if those weren't a concern.

"I want you to stay alive," Casey says, and Donnie's smile freezes in place as Casey looks back up at him. "Can you do that?"

Damn that two percent uncertainty.

"Ah. Of course." He shrugs, as though he doesn't know exactly what Casey is asking for, and pulls up a holographic display of a calendar. "According to my calculations, I will be alive next month, which means I'll be here for your birthday." Not talking about it won't solve the problem, but it may salvage this conversation. "So! What's an actual gift you want?"

"I want you to be here." Casey's gaze finds a point on the floor, and Donnie falls silent. "Not just for a month."

No. No, he needs something concrete - something he can act on - he knows how long his list of responsibilities is, but he still feels stymied, rushing up on the end, and he needs something he can do- "But it's not a gift," he replies, a last-ditch effort he's fairly certain is bound for failure-

"No. No, it is."

As always, all Donnie's family wants from him is time.

And now, at the end of his rapidly-shortening life, it's the one thing he can no longer give them.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #somerandomdudelmao #cass apocalyptic series #rottmnt casey jr #fic #I wrote this with a wicked case of vertigo #so if it doesn't make sense I'm blaming that #breaking that writer's block WIDE open #writing

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rotdistressxox · 2 months

Text

Headcanons: How the Papas treat you during your time of the month ♡

!nsfw undertones, afab body parts mentioned (obv)

Primo / Papa Emeritus I

• Knows when it starts and when it ends, he keeps a very close eye on those types of things. He even reminds you when it's coming up

• Has the most experience with this type or situation from the rest of his brothers because of his age.

• VERY Understanding

• Always there when you need to cry. Will try his best not to get on your bad side or tease you that often

• Constantly reassures you about your emotions.

• "My love, it's okay to be upset about (insert sort of dumb reason to be upset)"

• Washes your clothes when you accidentally get blood on them, you are NOT doing any physical labor on his watch.

• Will run you a nice bath with rose petals picked from the ministry garden.

• Will also read you your favorite book while you're in said bath.

• Gentle touches on your arms as he looks you in the eye to distract you from cramps.

• Spoils you rotten with kisses and whatever else you desire~

• Offers to give you other means of relieving pains. Wink wink

Secondo / Papa Emeritus II

• Is also very experienced with this

• Wanna talk about spoiled rotten? THIS MAN WILL GET YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT ON THE SPOT

• Use his body as a heating pad, especially his hands.

• The master at giving lower body massages to help soothe your pain.

• Kisses kisses kisses. He plants them everywhere when he senses that you need him.

• Will drop everything he's doing just to be with you for the day if you request.

• As the biggest and physically strongest papa, he will not hesitate to carry you anywhere if it gets that bad.

• Whispers romantic poetry in your ear while you take recovery naps.

• Also doesn't want you doing too much work, he'll send a Ghoul to watch after you whilst you do your daily tasks when he's busy.

Terzo / Papa Emeritus III

• Prepares your bed. Propped up and fluffed pillows, your favorite texture of blankets folded right there for you. Unless, you'd like to spend the night with him ;)

• The least experienced out of all the Papas. His experience with lovers have been great in quantity but low in quality as they're all usually 1 night stands or short flings. Until...he met you.

• Of course he knows what a period is, but he struggles at first with not knowing what to do for you.

• Gets the hang of it very quickly tho

• Flowers and more flowers. Surprises you with a new bouquet everyday of the cycle.

• Wants to make you laugh and smile as much as possible, so expect a bunch of corny jokes.

• Is that a frown he sees?

• "What's the difference between a glass of wine and an erection" "I dunno?" "You're not giving me a glass of wine right now" "PAPA-"

• Is gentle as possible with you, doesn't want to overdo the affection. Because let's be honest, on a normal day he'd be sneaking you passionate kisses every few minutes

• Expect your favorite dinner every night for the next few days, he's pretty good at cooking.

Copia / Papa Emeritus IV

• Even if you feel gross and ugly, you are still currently the sexiest thing ever to him. And he will definitely remind you of that.

• Does research on what to do, makes special plans for the both of you.

• Please, he also needs reassurance that you're okay. Otherwise he's going to be sweating his paint off worrying about you.

• Also a corny joke teller, they're more like dad jokes though.

• Gets food delivered for you. Unlike his brothers, he's a threat to the kitchen and not allowed anywhere near it.

• "Um...aha.... what size" gulp "what size- pu..ssy, do you wear?"

• Honestly he wants to know about what it's like experiencing it. So he always asks questions and is willing to learn more.

• Accidentally calls you his little ketchup packet, it made you laugh so hard that he thought you stopped breathing.

• Kisses and snuggles into your lower abdomen, he reallyyyy likes it when you're a little bloated because it provides extra cushion

• Literally melts when he sees you in your pajamas, cuddled up to a heating pad, and eating whatever.

Psst heyyy, thanks for reading my first post <3 ❤️

#the band ghost #secondo x reader #secondo emeritus #papa emeritus #papa emeritus iii #papa primo #papa emeritus ii #terzo #cardinal copia #copia #papa emeritus iv #copia x reader #terzo x reader #primo x reader

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ggidolsmuts · 1 year

Text

The Escort - Seolhyun

Seolhyun has always been one of those "it" girls—she was everywhere, on commercials, billboards, posters, cutouts. Women wanted the clothes she wore, wanted the makeup she used, wished they had her figure, an idol in every sense of the word. Men wanted her, to be around her—in front of, behind, under, above, you name a position, someone would want her in that position. To any outsider looking in Seolhyun had it all—the looks, the figure, the commercials, the success, and a lucky lover, surely.

Surely.

But no, Seolhyun lacked that very last thing—someone who could satisfy her most surely. She didn't need a lucky lover, she needed a professional one. Which is why you are knocking on her door at night.

"Come in. Are you the umm— umm..." Cutely she stammers, and you save her the awkwardness.

"That is correct, I'm your male escort from the agency, very nice to meet you." You had seen her photos of course, and her commercials—it was hard not to, she is everywhere.

"Right. So how does this work?"

"This is your first time with us, I believe? Please specify what you would like, and I'll do my best to make it happen. At the end you can decide if you want to continue with me going forward."

"What happens then?"

"From then on you can message me a time, place, and duration, along with what you would like to do, and I'll quote you a price. If we agree on a price then it'll happen as you wish."

"And what if I don't want to continue with you after today?"

"No problem of course, please make a second request with the agency and they will send someone else different and you can see if they are more suitable for you."

"Right, and no one will know about this?"

"Yes, being discreet is part of the job description. The agency is just the middleman for the initial transaction, after that everything is between the two of us."

Seolhyun nods in understanding, slightly relaxing on her sofa. She had wanted this, yet still she is nervous, that you somehow leak it to the media. At least for now, your answer is good enough.

"Okay, so, I just tell you what I want now, and you'll do it?"

"Correct."

"Mmm, okay then, make me cum in 5 minutes."

"Got it, can you show that you're clean? And when does the timer start, when you get naked?" Little did Seolhyun know, you're laying a trap for her, just a trick of the trade.

"Sure, one second, and yes let's go with that." She gives it little thought, focusing on your first request. Perfect. She presents her test results, and courteously you present your own clean bill of health.

"Thank you, do you foresee yourself having other partners should you continue with my services?"

"Umm, no, I don't think so?"

"Okay, should you have other partners please do a check up before we meet, and I will do the same should I have other customers. It's best for both of us." Seolhyun nods in agreement.

"What about condoms, will you have them prepared?"

"They are not needed, I have taken precautions on my end to prevent any accidents and test my sperm count regularly, I can provide the most recent results should you want them. Of course, if you prefer I use condoms I can accommodate any preference you have, ribbed, flavored, stuff like that."

"Oh, umm, no, that's okay, but please send me the test results." You agree and make a mental note to do it after tonight. Seolhyun turns red as her mind wanders a little. "So do you... finish inside generally?"

"No, only if the customer specifically asks for it, either in the request or during the session. It helps with clean up if I finish outside."

"Oh, makes sense I guess." Seolhyun doesn't say anything more, so you prod her a little.

"Shall we begin then?"

"Oh! Yes, your 5 minutes starts—"

"Ah, but we agreed that it starts when you're naked. There's no rush. Now, if I may." You sit down next to Seolhyun on the couch before swiftly sweeping her into your lap sideways. "I would like to get to know you better first."

Seolhyun gasps at your forward act, your hand already comfortably around her lower back and hips while the other runs down her long legs. She wonders if you notice the shiver going up her body—how long has it been since she's been with someone that doesn't rush into things?

"What's there to know?"

"Everything. I'm sure you've heard this before, but you're a bombshell Miss Seolhyun—"

"Seolhyun will do."

"Of course. As I was saying, you're a bombshell Seolhyun, and consider me a bomb expert." Your breath is warm, husky in her ear. Your hands are not idle as you roam her clothed body—the hand on her legs trails up to her honey thighs, stopping just short of where her shorts ended. "I like to know what makes you tick, how you are wired, where the current flows." The other hand moves up her back, dawdling briefly where a bra strap would be before continuing to gently massage her neck, and Seolhyun coos at the firm touch. "Like in the movies, it's all about the wires you know? Which ones to cut—" You slip a finger under the strap of her spaghetti top, carelessly pulling it off her shoulder. "And which ones to pull." She lets out a surprised squeak as you firmly tug on her hair—the slight sting sends a thrill straight down her spine. As she squirms in place she feels your hardened length right beneath her, only a small distance away from her own need—professional as you are, you're still only human, especially when Seolhyun's in your lap, letting you feel every curve of her.

"What happens after you understand the bomb?" She warms up in your lap, and you see the flush rising in her cheeks.

"Oh that's just part one. There are also buttons to push—" Daringly you cup a breast, firmly pushing on the stiff nub you feel. You smirk at the soft moan she lets out. "It is important to know the right sequence of buttons to press. And those are just the obvious ones, some are more... Hidden." Your hand dives down her body, past her smooth stomach, and Seolhyun tenses, expecting you to touch her clit—she's all of a sudden keenly aware of how aroused she is, of how wet she's gotten. But no, you pull away at the last moment.

"Wait—" Seolhyun opens her mouth to speak up, and you take the opportunity to kiss her, plunging your tongue past her lips. Instantly you're hugging her tightly, squeezing her into your body as you twist and dance with her tongue. Your expression of passion stuns and dizzies Seolhyun even further, skyrocketing her raw desire. You have her melting in your arms, and she whines when you pull back.

"Yes, let's wait on that." You return to kissing Seolhyun, but this time you are more controlled, merely pressing your lips to hers, occasionally sucking her lower lip, very rarely dipping your tongue into her even as she licks yours, trying to entice you back. Her hands are tense on your arms, both to hold herself together and to keep you close, her nails lightly scratching you. As you distract her with the kiss your fingers dance across her body, finding her weak spots, noting where her breath hitches, where her nails scratch you a little deeper, where she starts to tremble, where she starts to squirm, and where she starts to moan. By the time you are satisfied with your initial exploration Seolhyun's eyes are unfocused and staring past you, at the orgasm that's so close at hand.

"Now I would like to see you explode." She doesn't even register your words, for at the same time you whisper to her you press a single finger on her pussy, made all the easier to pinpoint by the wetness on her shorts. Seolhyun screams into your shoulder at the sudden pressure and detonates. She bucks vigorously against your finger, smearing it with all the slick that's soaking through her clothes. Her lithe figure twitches and jerks against you, her legs trapping your hand between them.

"Oh my god, oh fuck!" You keep the pressure on her slit, and her violent bucking makes you rub her clit with your drenched finger, extending her wild climax. Her feet slam into couch as she tries to thrust even harder against your finger, begging you to just apply a bit more force, to plunge through her layers of fabric and penetrate her. But you would not give her that satisfaction this early, not tonight. With practiced judgment you lift the pressure immediately, and Seolhyun sinks back into your lap. She whimpers as you reward her with more gentle swipes of your finger, bringing her right up to, but not past, the point of overstimulation. You move slower and slower, and Seolhyun comes back down, opening her eyes, now focused and surprised—you just gave her one of her more intense orgasms without even taking off a single piece of clothing.

"What did you just do, wow..."

"Just getting to know you better." Seolhyun blushes as you remove the finger from between her legs—there is a long trail of juice that clings on to your digit, not unlike how she's clinging to you right now, and only with a shake do you break the stubborn link. "I hope you found that acceptable."

"I umm, yes." Seolhyun finds herself dumped unceremoniously on the sofa as you stand up.

"Excellent, I look forward to working with you."

"Wait, what about you?" Her gaze goes to your erection, still very much visible through your pants. You haven't fucked me yet! you can read Seolhyun's thoughts on her face.

"That is not a problem, it will go down shortly." You say smoothly, wanting to lock in a following appointment.

"But—" I want you to fuck me! Seolhyun can't bring herself to say it that bluntly, but the redness on her cheeks lays her thoughts bare.

"I look forward to your message." You let yourself out, leaving your new customer stunned and needy.

Seolhyun processes what just happened as she remains dumbly on the couch. Now she knows you're a real professional, making her feel so good yet leaving her hanging—you won't give her real satisfaction until you've made some money off her. And you will, Seolhyun's already hooked, already planning when she can have you come over next. She quickly decides on a time and place, but first...

"Oh fuck yes..." she groans in relief as she plunges two fingers down her shorts and into her pussy—if only you had pushed your finger in! Somehow it feels even better than usual, Seolhyun covers her mouth as she humps her own hand, huffing and groaning. She's already imagining her session with you, how she wants you—between her legs, eating her out, your tongue dipping in and out of her like you did in her mouth earlier, oh god that would feel so good! And then she's thinking about how she wants you to take her, in what positions—she liked missionary, would you think that is too vanilla? Bent over maybe, or on her side? You felt big earlier, now she's wondering how deep and—

"Mmmm!" All of the images in her head are wiped out as Seolhyun brings herself to another orgasm. Her legs go taut, her teeth nipping at the back of her hand, but that's it, it doesn't compare. She groans and murmurs as she comes down quickly, the peak way smaller than the one she had with you, barely enough to satiate her for now...

You smile when you see Seolhyun's message later that night, and you respond to her accordingly.

*Session #: 2*

*Location: Hyatt Seoul*

*Time: Friday at 10 pm*

*Duration: Overnight*

*Request: Vanilla*

*Price: 1,000,000 Won*

You knock on the door, and you are greeted by Seolhyun, still concealing her identity with sunglasses and a mask.

"Hello, just arrived?" you ask, noting her long jacket still hanging on her shoulders.

"Yes, you're on time, I was hoping to have time to prepare."

"Of course, you pay for my time, so I have to make sure you get the full night with me." She shivers at the thought—a full night with you!

"Please take as much time as you need to prepare, can I take your jacket?" Seolhyun shrugs off her coat, and you take it for her as she brings her overnight bag into the bathroom. Seolhyun takes a deep breath as she opens it—a set of clothes for tomorrow, her makeup pouch, and at the very bottom, a set of lace lingerie for tonight. Part of her wants to impress you, to make you want her beyond the paycheck you get from her, but then she thinks about your job—surely you've had other sexier, more experienced customers? Would she compare, could she compare? After a quick shower she looks at her own naked body in the mirror and though she is very much in shape, Seolhyun is suddenly self-conscious—should she have shaved down there, did you have a preference? I should have asked! Chiding herself and feeling inexperienced, she redoes her make up and throws on a robe.

"Would you like to shower?"

"Oh, no thank you, I showered right before coming here." Of course you did, you were the professional! Seolhyun chides herself once more. Not sure about how to start the night, she opens her robe and sits on the bed, partially revealing the lingerie to you.

"That's very nice Seolhyun, you look good in it." She blushes at your compliment, almost embarrassed at her own reaction, why is she being such a pushover?

"Thanks, umm, how do you want to do it?"

"That's up to you, you mentioned vanilla, so whatever you consider vanilla."

"Oh," her mind works overtime, suddenly unable to remember all the other times she's had sex. "I guess you on top, some foreplay, and then we can do it?"

"That sounds good to me." Seolhyun's eyes rake and rove over you as you undo your tie and unbutton your shirt, and she's unconsciously rubbing her neck and biting her lip as you lose your pants, joining her on the bed in only your boxers. You carelessly brush her robe off, and soon her slender body is pressed against yours, thighs spread with a light tap from your knees—god Seolhyun is ready to be fucked. But she wanted foreplay, so you revisit the spots that had her squirming last time, much to the same effect.

"W-Wait, I have a request!" Seolhyun gasps as you nip at her neck, very aware of her lace panties being ruined by her own fluids.

"Of course, what is it?"

"Make me cum harder than last time, think you can do it?" she tries to sound challenging, but she already knows that's too easy for you. At this rate she will cum harder than last time even without you doing anything special.

"As you wish," you take it up a notch, your fingers gripping her more tightly. "I was planning to anyways." You overwhelm Seolhyun with a flurry of kisses and firm touches, pushing her bra up and directly squeezing her chest. She tries to reach around to take it off, but you've pinned her fully onto the bed, she might as well have been tied down and— Oh fuck that would be good too! Seolhyun whimpers as the thought runs through her head.

"Something wrong?" You stop immediately, misinterpreting her vocalizations.

"T-The bra." Her stiff nipples brush against your chest as you hug her tighter and reach behind and pull the thin piece of fabric off her. You return to assaulting her senses, managing to shimmy your boxers off as she squirms beneath you. You use one hand to keep her distracted, squeezing handfuls of her breasts, while the other reaches for her lace panties and pulls them to the side. Without a word you push into Seolhyun, drawing a surprised squeal from her. You had wrongfooted her once again—she expected some fingerplay, but you had correctly judged her readiness, and so the first stimulation of her pussy is your penetration.

"Oh fuck, oh yes!" You sit back on your heels and place your hands around her midriff, lifting her hips and keeping them where you wanted. Seolhyun's back makes a nice arc as you fuck her with shallow upward thrusts, the angle allowing you to find her g-spot and push it relentlessly.

"Right there, don't stop, please don't stop!" You tug Seolhyun over and over on your cock, making sure to prod her sweet spot with your tip every time, and in short order her toes are curling, fingers digging into the sheets as she climaxes strongly. She never stood a chance, overwhelmed from the moment she was on the bed, and her walls spasm around you violently. It requires a lot of your self-control to not just bury yourself fully in Seolhyun, but you save that for later and continue fucking her with partial thrusts.

"Nnngh yes! Fuck me!" Seolhyun moans huskily as you bring her to another peak, her slick streaming down your shaft at this point. She thrashes on the bed, only held together by your hands around her twitching tummy. Eventually the jerking subsides, and Seolhyun goes slack.

"Fuck that was great—" You take her by surprise once more and push her hips down to the bed. Swiftly you get on top of her again, and this time you plunge fully into Seolhyun. Her wide eyes roll into her head—after being fucked with shallow thrusts and contracting around only part of your shaft, your deep thrust seems to fuck all the breath out of her.

No! The thought leaves her lips as only a wispy gasp as she feels impossibly stretched, your cock seemingly thicker and longer than anything she's had. You grind and roll your hips, making sure her walls get properly pushed wide open, even as they try to contract around you—Seolhyun's rolling into another orgasm.

"Fuckohmygodcummingagain!" she says all that with a half-breath, the rest of it reserved for a scream as you pull back and slam into her roughly. Seolhyun's never had so strong or so many orgasms back to back, and all she can do is scream her pleasure as you proceed to fulfill her request with every climax you bring her to...

"God yes yes yes!" This is when you started kissing her to silence her screams.

"Nnngh.... fuck!" This is when she felt you knocking at the entrance to her womb, triggering more orgasms. Seolhyun tries to wrap her legs around you, either to keep you from getting that deep, or to have you cum in her, but she's already too weak to do so properly.

"Mmm!" This is when you started grinding your hips against hers again, making sure you brushed against her clit on every thrust, and Seolhyun's reduced to a writhing and melting hot body. As you reach your limit you pull out, and with perfect timing you spill your load between her legs and on her toned midriff.

Request satisfied.

You take a deep breath to compose yourself; Seolhyun requires multiple, her eyes still closed, makeup lightly smeared.

"Sorry about that, Seolhyun." Are the first words she hears when she opens her eyes, and she is thoroughly confused. Did she hear you wrong?

"What do you mean?"

"Your panties are stained with my release, my apologies." That was what you were apologizing for?

"It's okay, I already ruined them anyways," Seolhyun mutters as she pulls off the lace cumrag. You're already handing her tissues as she looks to clean up. "W-What now?" she wonders aloud, looking to you.

"It'll take me about 15 minutes to be ready to go again, I can pleasure you in the meantime while we wait."

"N-No, it's okay, take your time." Her legs close together to reinforce the fact. "Let's take a breather." Seolhyun goes to the bathroom again, collecting herself as she wipes her thighs—they were shiny with her slick, she'd never seen anything like it, like she had squirted. Did she squirt? She groans as she looks herself in the mirror and tries to fix her messy makeup, should she even bother? Just a brief touch up then.

"So what else do customers ask you to do on an overnight stay?" Seolhyun asks as she exits the bathroom.

"Could be anything, they come up with stuff on the fly like you did, or they have a list of positions they want to try, some have even shown me porn to highlight what scenes they want."

"Do they just tell you to do what you want?"

"Rarely, that's not what I'm here for, after all." Seolhyun's brow is furrowed as she tries to come up with what to do next—she had assumed it'd just be straight fucking, but hearing your answer now she wanted it to be at least somewhat interesting, not just milquetoast bed play... Maybe that’s it? Don’t do it on the bed?

"There's no rush to come up with something, here have some water, I feel like you need it." You smirk, and Seolhyun's eyes dart to the wet spot on the bed. Wow, she did squirt. She watches you drink your water, and she slowly pieces together something she thought was interesting, something that would be different.

"Okay, I think I know what I want you to do next."

"Excellent, what will it be?"

"I want you to fuck me on every surface in the room." There, surely that's something you don't do every time?

"Understood." Seolhyun can't read your expression, or rather, she doesn't get to as you carry her and place her on the desk. "Shall we begin?"

The night becomes a hedonic blur for Seolhyun as you fuck her on every flat surface there is. And as she drowsily wakes up the next morning, the previous night comes back in fragments.

She remembers the desk, her hands knocking the lamp to the ground.

"I got you." Your husky whisper is vivid in her memory as you pushed her against the door, your hands supporting her as the door rattled loudly in her ears. She rode you on the sofa at some point, or was that on the loveseat?

"No, wait, that's too risky!" You press her against the glass window of the hotel room, curtains drawn open for all to see, but at her request you turn her around, and Seolhyun's ass is laid bare for anyone who cared to look up as you pounded her into the window.

"The TV!" Seolhyun gasps as her back hits it, nearly tipping it over. You settle for bending her over the console.

Her last coherent memory is of her clinging on to you, makeup completely ruined as she realizes you intended to fuck her on every surface in the suite. Going by the soreness in her body you did do just that. She pushes herself off the bed, to find you already fully dressed, taking a sip of coffee.

"Good morning, I made you a cup as well."

"Thanks, are you leaving now?"

"Yes."

"Okay, one second..." Seolhyun fumbles for her phone, and a minute later you receive a payment notification.

"Thank you, I'll leave you be. Until next time then." You bow slightly and let yourself out, leaving Seolhyun satisfied but already planning the next time to meet you—she's hopelessly addicted.

*Session #: 7*

*Location: A backstreet in Seoul*

*Time: Saturday at 11 pm*

*Duration: 15 minutes*

*Request: Quickie, but dress formally!*

*Price: 200,000 Won*

"I don't get why it's so expensive," Seolhyun mumbles as you join her in the backalley.

"Because you gave me no notice, and you had me dress up," you reply as you take in her outfit, a sleek red dress that showed off her figure nicely.

"Everyone's here for the award show, you'd stand out too much if you didn't dress properly!" She tries to take off her dress, but can't do it without dirtying it and drawing suspicion.

"Here, please take off your panties and hand them to me." Seolhyun does as you say, and you pocket them for safekeeping. "Allow me." You lift her left leg, hooking her knee with an arm. It gives you just enough to work with, and you pull the dress along the slit to expose her own slit. Your own pants are already at your knees, and holding her steady you plunge into her.

"N-No marks!" Seolhyun reminds you, her bare shoulders and collarbones exposed to the night.

"Of course." You bury your face in her neck—from the street side of the alley the two of you looked like lovers making out, but from the dead end of the alley it is clear what is going on, with Seolhyun's leg lifted and propped open for easy access.

"Oh, oh fuck yes..." Seolhyun gasps into the night sky, the thrill of being fucked in public and the need to get fucked right now hitting her harder than the wall behind. You pull her into your thrusts to not slam her into the rough wall, and it pays off as Seolhyun marks your neck with a nip and a muffled shout. You pull out with a groan and shoot your load on the ground, barely missing her heels.

"Can you stand?"

"Hm? Oh, yes I think so." Holding her close you slowly let her leg down, and Seolhyun leans on you to maintain stability. Seolhyun pings you the payment as you put on your pants, and she's already walking towards the street, eager to get back before people notice that she's gone missing.

"Seolhyun!" you hiss as loud as you can without shouting. "Your underwear!" You point to your pocket for emphasis. You can't make out what she mouths back, but her actions make it clear as she walks away from you.

Keep it.

*Session #: 10*

*Location: Seolhyun's place*

*Time: Friday at 9 pm*

*Duration: 1 hour*

*Request: Submissive*

*Price: 200,000 Won*

"I would like to be on top." Seolhyun tells you as you get naked.

"Of course, and what would you like me to call you?"

"What do you mean?"

"As a sub I wouldn't be using your name, perhaps something like ma'am or mommy?"

"Definitely not mommy, try ma'am?"

"Of course ma'am." Seolhyun shakes her head.

"No, not that, sounds too old, what about mistress?"

"Yes, Mistress Seolhyun." She likes the sound of that, taking off her t-shirt and straddling you.

"Do you want me?"

"Yes mistress, I want you so much."

"How much?" She grabs your clothed shaft, stroking you slowly, her fingertips dragging over your tip.

"So much!" Seolhyun doesn't let up, making sure you've stained your boxers with precum. She wants to hear you whine and beg. "There's nothing I want to do more than to have you ride me mistress, please ride me!" A tingle goes through her body—she's going to fully indulge herself. Seolhyun throws off her own clothes, moving up your body, to your cock, and then past it.

"Open up." Her knees sink into the bed by your head, and your lips part just as she spreads her own lips for you. The taste of Seolhyun is on your tongue as she drops her hips on your face. Back and forth she grinds her pussy on your face, and you match her movement, pressing your tongue flat on her slit for maximum friction.

"You're doing so good, lover boy..." Seolhyun braces herself on the headboard, humping you like she would hump a pillow. You manage a groan in response to her praise, and it just makes her ride you harder. You look up to see Seolhyun thoroughly enjoying herself, eyes closed, breasts dangling deliciously and rocking in rhythm with her humping. "Eat my pussy, make your mistress cum."

"Mmkay." Seolhyun gasps at your hands suddenly on her ass, squeezing and pulling her down deeper on you. She feels your tongue push in, and you writhe it powerfully inside her, just as Seolhyun begins to writhe as well. She can’t believe you let her do this, sure she’s paying to sit on you, but still! Rarely do her lovers eat her out or even consider it, but here you are, pulling her down on your face, enthusiastic, eager, and skilled.

Oh so fucking skilled! Your tongue seems to swirl around her clit, and the knot in her core gets even tighter.

"Ah... oh my god, I'm going to cum on your tongue!" Her movements become more wild, and a hand goes to your hair, tugging on it urgently. You drift a finger between her cheeks, and even after multiple sessions you still manage to surprise her and help Seolhyun discover more about of herself.

"What, nngh!" She yelps as you rub a circle around her ring, and with a wail she cums on your tongue. You drink her in greedily before she relaxes, small jolts still going through her. Seolhyun slithers down your body and grabs your shaft.

"Do you want to be in your mistress?"

"Yes, please mistress, sit on my cock."

"You don't sound like you really want me on your cock," Seolhyun teases. You lay it on a little thicker, after all she is paying you to do it.

"No I really do mistress, you have the tightest pussy ever, I want to be in it all day if I could. Please let me be in your pussy? I want to feel you wet and tight around me!" It meets Seolhyun's standards, and with a smile she drops herself on you. Seolhyun has to bite her lip to keep from moaning right away—you felt amazing, but she's the dom tonight, she couldn't give the game up just yet.

"H-How does it feel?"

"Better than I thought possible mistress, if you move right away I might just cum, please don't move!" Gently Seolhyun taps your cheek, but you "wince" as if you were slapped.

"No no no, no cumming until I say you do."

"Yes of course, I'll do my best."

"Good boy." Seolhyun captures your lips hungrily, and her hips begin to move up and down. "Good big boy, fuck that's good." You watch her tits bounce some more, and you reach for one, making her moan out loud as you take it in your mouth, teeth lightly grazing her nipple. She slows down her bouncing, and you take advantage of it to play with her chest more, squeezing and tugging what you could before Seolhyun pulls your head back.

"I'm so close, I want you to cum with me okay? Inside me."

"Yes mistress."

Seolhyun returns to kissing you passionately, and she loses herself in the act.

"Say you love me."

"I love you mistress!"

"No! Use my name."

"I love you Seolhyun!" A spike of arousal goes through her, and it all rushes to her head.

"More, keep saying it, please!"

You hug her close, repeating the phrase over and over as Seolhyun rides you more wildly. She begins to murmur her own phrase in return.

"Cum for me, I love you, please cum for me..." Seolhyun's mind is spinning, but she's waiting for you to send her careening off the edge. Her walls clenches around you in time with your throbbing, and it gets faster and faster until you moan softly into her ear, and your hot load all inside her triggers her own climax. Her vision goes white just as her pussy does, and she doesn't hear her own wail of "I love you!" She clings to you hungrily, eager to milk your every drop. Seolhyun purrs happily into your neck as she comes down from her high, and she doesn't see your furrowed brow.

"I think we will have to stop this relationship, Miss Kim." Your words hit her like a ton of bricks, and her mood sinks to the bottom of the harbor like you've tied them to her heart. Miss Kim? She has to find a chair to steady herself against.

"What? Why?"

"I get the impression that you have grown... attached to me, independent of my services. While I do appreciate it as it shows my good work, I believe it is unhealthy to you for us to continue." You finish getting dressed, and you make for the door.

"W-What, why does that matter? If, if someone's addicted to your cock you're going to cut them off? I'll keep paying you!"

"You wanted me to say I love you, you said you loved me when you came, that's not just addiction, that's obsession. You don't know me outside of these sessions." Your grip tightens on the handle.

"So what? I'm sure you're a nice guy! Wait, is this because you have a girlfriend?" That has to be it, right? Seolhyun thinks to herself, trying to reason her way out of it.

"No, this job doesn't allow me to have a girlfriend."

"I-I'll be your girlfriend then! We're compatible in the bedroom, that's a start right?" Seolhyun blushes as she says it—she can't believe she's just throwing herself at you, and yet... she really wanted you!

"I'm physically compatible with everyone, it's my job to be," you state witheringly, does she not get it?

"Fine, either way I don't mind your job."

"Many have said that, it doesn't last beyond the first time I have to cancel or reschedule a date because of a job."

"I don't care!"

"You do, you just don't know it yet." You were done with this conversation. "You are not the first one to feel like this Miss Kim, and I believe this is for the best. I'm a professional fucker, you pay me to fuck, not to be your boyfriend. There are other options if you want that instead, on a dating app, for a start." You push on the handle.

"Wait, how do you know how I feel? I don't actually like you, that's just part of the roleplay!"

"It didn't sound like it."

"What if I say you're wrong?"

"In my experience I don't think so."

"Oh, so now you're a professional at reading emotions, you can tell what I was feeling? I thought you were just a professional fucker." Seolhyun fires back with as much disdain as she could, and you don't have a good answer to that—your other customers would accept your explanation, and you would leave before they could protest otherwise.

"I... That's fair."

"Hah! What if we continue, and if I do anything of that sort again on a session you can stop, and I won't fight it." You ponder for a moment before sighing in defeat.

"Okay, I'll hold you to that Miss Kim."

"Deal, and can't you at least call me Seolhyun? Miss Kim sounds so cold." Seolhyun turns up the charm and aegyo now that she's got her way.

"Of course, my apologies, I'll see you next time then Seolhyun." She lets you out, resisting the urge to give you a goodbye kiss. Now her mind is spinning for a whole different reason—how could she make you see her way, or could she make you fall in love with her? In the meantime she just needed to keep her feelings hidden, even as you would be fucking her, making her climax. It is a tough ask, but eventually Seolhyun arrives at a simple conclusion—she just had to cum hard enough to not even be able to talk, and you would never find out.

*Session #: 11*

*Location: Love hotel*

*Time: Friday at 10 pm*

*Duration: 3 hours*

*Request: Pet play*

*Price: 400,000 Won*

*Clarification: Who is playing the pet?*

*Response: Seolhyun*

You arrive at the chosen love hotel—Seolhyun had picked well, a high-end one that you're not unfamiliar with. You go to the room directly and knock.

"Come in!" This time you're surprised to see Seolhyun all dressed up and ready to go—a frilly purple outfit contrasting the cute little cat ears on top.

"You're early," you comment, surprised and impressed at her readiness.

"No, I just made sure you came by later."

"I appreciate it. Looks like you prepared for this?"

"Yes, I just... need you to put this on for me." Seolhyun blushes as you disappear behind her, a gentle hand brushing her hair aside. A shiver runs through her as you stroke down her neck, admiring her smooth skin. Seolhyun tenses and holds her breath as you bring the leather collar around her neck, fastening it just tight enough and letting it jingle as you release it.

"Thank you... Master."

"Of course, my lovely pet. I'm thirsty, could you get me water?" Seolhyun immediately obeys, pouring a glass for you and handing it to you. She freezes as you stare through her. "Kneel." She drops to her knees, presenting the glass to you subserviently.

"Here master."

"Thank you, good kitten." You rub her fake ears first, before petting her head and running your finger along her real ear. Seolhyun gasps and moans at the firm pressure on her lobe—why does even that feel good with you? You finish the glass of water and hand her the empty glass, and Seolhyun learns quickly—she places the glass on the table before returning to your side, kneeling and awaiting your next order. You hold out a hand.

"Hand." She looks at you questioningly, and you repeat the motion.

"Paw." Seolhyun gets it this time, placing a hand in yours. You run a thumb over the back of her hand, and you rub her cheek, as if rewarding her. She leans into your touch, nuzzling the hand on her face.

"Breast." Seolhyun blushes, but obediently she shuffles closer to you, placing a tit on your hand. Softly she moans as you squeeze one breast, and then the other as you order her to place it in your hand. You rub her head, lightly scratching the top of her scalp, and a numbing, fuzzy, feeling goes straight to Seolhyun's core, spiking her arousal—she didn't have to think, she could leave everything to you.

"Very good kitten, no bra?"

"No master."

"Panties?"

"No panties, master."

"I will check that. Pussy!" Seolhyun stands up and spreads her legs, lowering herself on to your hand. The warm wetness of her heat dampens your palm, and her thighs shake as you rub your hand back and forth. Seolhyun moans as you feel something you were not expecting, and her eyes falter at your gaze, but you'll pursue that later. "Very good, my pet."

"Thank you master."

"Take off my clothes, pet." Seolhyun hurries to comply, two hands urgently unbuttoning your shirt, biting her lip as she strips you. "Use your mouth for my boxers." You hold the band of your underwear for her, and obediently she takes it between her teeth. As she pulls it down your erection pops free—her eyes widen in surprise, and it knocks her in the cheek, but she doesn't let go, and successfully she leaves you naked. Without asking she takes you in her mouth, and Seolhyun yelps as you pull her back firmly.

"You're a cat, cats don't suck, they lick."

"Of course, I'm so sorry master."

"Get to it!" She starts off tentatively, holding your cock in her hands and licking the head, gauging your reaction. You reward her with a scritch on the head, and Seolhyun gets more into it, eventually manipulating your shaft as needed, eager to get her saliva on every inch of your cock. She licks you from base to tip, and you smear her face all over with her own drool. She cups your balls, and with your signal she starts licking them too, grooming them like a good kitten would.

"Take off your top and use your tits." Seolhyun throws away her top in a flash, and soon your shaft is trapped in her cleavage, her hands squeezing her breasts together and moving up and down.

"Like this master?"

"Yes, very good, good kitten, go faster." The drool on your shaft gives her chest a nice sheen, and as she moves faster in the growingly warm hotel room Seolhyun's sweat adds to the erotic view. Without warning you cum, spurting your load over her face and neck. Seolhyun gasps, and some of it enters her mouth too—it just makes her wetter down below.

"Was that good master?"

"Mmhmm, but you look like a mess, clean yourself!"

"I'm sorry master!" Seolhyun searches for tissues, but you grab her offending hand and stop her.

"How does a kitten clean herself?" she hesitates for a moment before wiping the cum off with her hand. Tentatively she then licks your cum clean from her own hand, and with an approving nod she repeats the action several times as your load is mostly wiped from her face.

"Good cat." You gather the little bit she has missed on a finger and hold it out—Seolhyun licks it clean greedily. Her head is fuzzy with arousal, and her now free hands drift between her legs, lightly rubbing herself—she whimpers, and a little bit of slick drips from her fingers on to the floor. It doesn't go unnoticed.

"Does my little kitten need to get off?"

"Yes, please master!"

"You've been a good pet, take off your skirt." Seolhyun stands up and slides them down her long legs, and as she kicks them aside shakily you see something that confirms your suspicions. "Turn around pet." Seolhyun blushes and turns around, revealing the little furry tail she had on her.

"I didn't know my pet had such a nice tail." You tease her with the double entendre, slapping her ass and sending a jolt of pleasure through the butt plug.

"Ah! Thank you master."

"Hold still." Seolhyun hands turn into fists as you play with the tail, gently stroking it like you would a cat's tail. This is her first time with a plug, and she squirms at the foreign but pleasurable sensation.

"Mmm!" She clenches around the toy as you pull harder, as if trying to yank the tail off, but at the last moment you push it back in, and Seolhyun can't help but let out a loud moan. A string of juice falls from her slick slit, pooling on the floor under her. Her thighs jiggle and quiver as you repeat the motion, and Seolhyun feels her legs go weak—she's dangerously close to cumming from anal stimulation alone, something she never knew about herself until now, something she never even considered until you touched her ass last time.

"P-Please master, I'm going to cum."

"I didn't give you permission to. In my lap pet." Seolhyun straddles you, kneeling on the bed as her arms wrap around your neck intimately—until she remembers the conditions of your deal, and she settles for placing her hands on your shoulders instead. "Don't cum until I tell you to."

The next few minutes are delicious torture for Seolhyun. Your hands draw circles on her smooth cheeks, and each squeeze of her ass just makes the plug shift inside her. She braces for the pleasure as you lean in to suck on her breasts once more, but that brace is broken as you slap her butt sharply.

"Ahh! M-Master!" Her ass ripples against your hand as you plant it on her ass with a hearty spank.

"Hold it."

"I-I can't, I can't!" There is a buzzing in Seolhyun's ears, the pleasure making her unable to hear your commands, drowned out in delicious white noise. You're kneading her ass now, making the plug sink into her with the repeated motions. A sharp tug on her hair brings her back around, punishment for getting close to orgasm. I'm so close! She tries to search for your eyes, wanting to plead her case. But her vision is going black, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as you tug at the plug directly, pulling it almost all the way out before pushing it back in quickly, fucking her ass with it. Seolhyun orgasms before she even knows what happened, and she collapses on top of you, wailing out her pleasure directly into your ear.

"You failed." Your stern voice adds an additional aftershock of pleasure to Seolhyun as she pants in your lap.

"N-No master, I didn't cum."

"You lie, your juice on my cock says otherwise." Seolhyun looks down, and your cock is newly erect, covered in a shiny coating of slick. Fuck, you had made her squirt again, and judging by the spray on her own thighs, it wasn't a weak one either.

"I'm sorry master."

"Words are cheap, on all fours." Weakly Seolhyun scrambles to obey, getting off you and on to the bed. "Head down, spread yourself." Without thinking she follows your demand, gasping as she spreads her own cheeks—the plug has sunk deeper into her. Randomly she thinks about her being an idol—she's done similar moves in the past as "choreo", but never like this! How many of her "fans" would pay to see her in this position? Yet here she is, freely spreading her own lips for you—a heavy drop of her juice leaves her pussy and soaks onto the bedsheet. Her fingers are pushed slightly further apart as you place your bulbous head at her entrance.

"Show me how sorry you are, kitten." Seolhyun curves her back and moans as she forces herself on to you, pushing herself backwards on your cock. You stay still, and when Seolhyun hilts you inside her she moves forward slowly, exquisitely feeling your head drag across her walls. She seizes up for a moment when you come into contact with her g-spot, and she immediately chases that pleasure again, making small jerks back and forth, desiring maximum friction. Enraptured, you watch Seolhyun start to fuck herself in front of you, her back flexing, her thighs and ass jiggling, tail bouncing up and down as she rocks herself against you. She begins to lose control, her slick streaming off your shaft.

"Faster." Small whimpers escape her as she does her best to please you, pushing back faster, escalating her own pleasure too.

"M-Master!" You sense Seolhyun's struggling obedience, her walls beginning to contract around you.

"Harder!" you order her, pulling on her hair sharply. Seolhyun shouts, the pain bringing her back a little. It does send a thrill through her still, and you merely raise her threshold for pleasure, making sure she’ll be even more of a mess when she cums. You throw your hips forward once, and Seolhyun moans loudly in surprise before pushing herself back on your cock. Her body is fully engaged, eager to follow your instructions and fuck herself silly. Her back, toned from hours of bouldering, glimmers with sweat, and Seolhyun's groaning and grunting with exertion, balancing between exhaustion and exhilaration. Even with her maximum effort it is not quite enough, and Seolhyun turns back to you, gritting her teeth as she tries to slam herself back on you harder and faster.

"Please master..." You reward her with your own efforts—the smacks between your bodies get louder and louder as you finally get into it, shoving your hips in rhythm with Seolhyun. The groans turn into moans as she let's herself get pushed into the bed, doing her best to bounce back against you, your bodies working in natural carnal harmony. You push against her tail plug with every thrust, and Seolhyun's moans get longer and louder at the double penetration sensation. I'm so close, please master! Unable to put her plea into words, her eyes search frantically for yours, begging for your permission with heavy desire. You nod and grab her tail, pushing it deep into her as it accompanies your thrust.

"Gah!" Seolhyun's eyes widen, her pupils unfocused. She pants, her breath quickening immediately. You grind your cock and twist the plug inside her, and the friction sets off a blaze.

"Fuck meeeee!" She shoves her face into the bed and screams, pushing her ass higher up in the air as she is consumed by ecstasy. She twitches and jerks underneath you, each motion an additional spark of pleasure spreading like wildfire through her nerves. Seolhyun goes weak and collapses on the bed—she can only manage a whimper when her pussy suddenly feels empty, and her low moan accompanies yours as hot cum lands on her body, covering her butt and lower back. She winces and grips the sheets as you slowly pull the tail out—everything is suddenly too much!

"N-No more!"

"You did good pet." You take her collar, unclasping it and removing it from her neck. You blow and kiss the area around it. "We're done Seolhyun."

"P-Please hold me. I need you to hold me." You could have considered that a dealbreaker, and you almost turn down Seolhyun's request there and then, but it seemed like she needed aftercare more than anything. So you cuddle her, letting her nestle in your chest as you settle into the bed. "Tissue please." You reach for them, and you wipe her sweat off as Seolhyun does the same on her lower back, getting rid of your load.

"Too intense?" you ask as she lay against you. For feedback, you tell yourself.

"No, that was perfect. How much time do we have left?" Fifteen minutes, as it turns out. "Do you want to umm, shower together? It'll save time that way." She follows up hastily. You agree, and Seolhyun is nothing but polite as she lets the water and soap run over her before standing to the side and letting you do the same. In fact, you are the one who has to hold it together, your gaze lingering on her nude body more than befitting a "professional" like yourself.

"Thanks again, I'll send the payment shortly." Seolhyun says quietly, bidding you goodbye with a slight bow.

*Session #: 15*

*Location: Seolhyun's place*

*Time: Sunday at 3 pm*

*Duration: 2 hours*

*Request: Do whatever you want*

*Price: 100,000 Won*

"Why is it so cheap this time?" Seolhyun asks as she lets you in. You scratch your head, a little embarrassed.

"It's just an informal thing, but I discount the price if I get to do what I want. Obviously I want to satisfy my customer first, so I don't want to “pressure” them with a cheaper option."

"I mean, if you just ask to do it for free I think you'll get a lot of takers." Seolhyun laughs, and you hold your hands out as if to say "you got me".

"Yes but I don't make money then."

"I better be getting my money's worth then," she teases. She immediately regrets her words when she's suddenly face-to-face with you.

"You will." You wrap your arm around her waist, and Seolhyun has to look away, the blush rising to her cheeks—she can keep her words to herself, but her body will betray her feelings at the first time of asking. She melts into your arms as you lean in to kiss her, and a new thrill goes straight from your lips to her pussy—the thrill of intimacy.

"Close your eyes." Seolhyun's heart flutters just as much as her eyes do. She lets herself be carried to bed, and her heart is now thumping as you wrap a piece of cloth over her eyes. "I want you to just feel me, okay?" She nods automatically without question, and her world immediately shrinks to zero as you place ear plugs in her ear. Blinded and deafened, Seolhyun reacts to the lack of stimulation quickly, her breaths hastening, chest heaving. The sheets suddenly felt rough underneath her—I need a higher thread count! her mind thinks, before jumping to something else, a slight wind she feels on the hairs of her skin, is that you moving? Or no, the bed's sinking a little by her feet, that’s you. Her hair rustles against the pillow, she can hear it in her head—she showered in the morning, she should have showered right before you came, why didn't she—

Devoid of stimuli and left to her own devices Seolhyun's mind runs a million miles an hour, bouncing between her sense of touch and her "sensible" thoughts. She's yanked out of all that with a single domineering touch, of your finger on her cheek. One finger becomes two, then three, then a whole palm, and Seolhyun nuzzles your cheek once more, like a cat eager for attention, like a human eager for sensation. On her other cheek Seolhyun moans at your lips on her skin, and hurriedly she turns to face you.

"Please!" She can barely hear herself, but you hear Seolhyun's plea loud and clear. Her limbs wrap around you needily just like her tongue does, eager for the human connection.

Oh my god, I need you, I need you so much! The thought dominates her desires, all she can feel is you, all she wants is you! She squirms on the bed, eager to sense more of you. Seolhyun's too caught up in her own head to realize it, but she's humping herself up at you, her body eager for touch in her most sensitive of areas. A bolt launches through her as you rub a thigh between her legs, and Seolhyun groans and starts humping you quicker and harder.

"I'M CUMMING ALREADY OH MY GOD I'M CUMMING!" Seolhyun thinks she's intimately grinding on you, whispering and whimpering, but no, she doesn't notice her vocal cords straining as she screams into your ear. All she's focused on is the brilliant enhanced pleasure going straight to her sensory-deprived brain. You force yourself on her lips, to save both your ears and her voice, and Seolhyun shudders violently beneath you. She chases more pleasure, continuing to hump your thigh—one, two, five orgasms fly through her as she loses track of herself. Seolhyun would grind on your thigh indefinitely if you don't pull it away, and even when you do, her body resigns itself to orgasm until the sensations die down.

When it ends Seolhyun flops limply on the bed, the orgasms wiping out her thought process completely. One by one by one her senses slowly reboot. Her touch comes back first—she notices the fabric of her own clothing, why does it feel so heavy? Seolhyun feels you pressed on top of her, and she clings to you once more, her anchor on the world right now. Then her sense of smell returns, and as she sniffs she starts squirming again—her body recognizes the scent of pure arousal and lust, both from herself and you. Finally her sense of tastes comes barging back in—your tongue tastes salty and sweet and sinful and heavenly, and she can't get enough of it!

Watching Seolhyun lose herself turned you on more than she knew, and your urgent hands quickly remove her sweat and juice soaked clothes. Seolhyun begins to quiver again as you pull away from her, both to remove your own clothes and to admire her body. Her skin is flushed red, a sheen of sweat evidence of her own exertions earlier. Her fingers and toes are still curled— she's forgotten to uncurl them, and her body hasn't gotten to relaxing those muscles yet. Her nipples are stiff, her lower lips are puffy, her clit is engorged—Seolhyun has never been more ready for sex.

Seolhyun moans loudly as she feels you skin-to-skin, and she grinds out a scream as you immediately push yourself into her. Suddenly all she can feel is your throbbing cock inside her, urging her to open up. Slowly but surely you part Seolhyun's walls, and in her tense and sensitive state she's drooling and gasping and whining. There is no empty space in her body, and to Seolhyun you feel bigger than ever, as if you would rip her in two if you were any larger. But no, you are just big enough, and Seolhyun's breath catches as her clit hits the base of your shaft—you've devoured Seolhyun with your cock. You try to give her time to adjust, hoping that she would relax a little, but the tightness doesn't go away. Just the act of breathing is giving Seolhyun pleasure, the small movements of your bodies enough to keep her on edge.

You also can't wait any longer.

You start fucking Seolhyun with slow strokes, not wanting to hurt her, but she's so turned on she only knows how to feel pleasure. Her walls are completely covered in slick, and soon they are covered in precum as well as you glide in and out of her rapidly. No matter how much she tightens up or contracts in orgasm, you're able to bury yourself inside her completely, her body fully receptive to yours. You explode inside her, filling her with your load, but she's so tight around you, you might as well still be erect when you come down from your peak.

So you do the only thing your body knows how to do right now—keep going, keep pounding into Seolhyun, half-erect, fully erect, whatever. However you want to fuck Seolhyun, she's ready to be fucked. Soon you and Seolhyun lose track of everything.

“So big, ahh!”

“No, don’t stop, why did you— Ohh you’re cumming, oh fuck I’m gonna cum too...”

“I can’t— nngh making me cum!”

Her world dissolves into one climax after another, with the occasional burst of heat that makes her twist and cry out even louder—she has no idea what it is, it doesn’t even register that you are filling her with cum over and over, but it satisfies her even more all the same.

“So fucking tight Seolhyun!”

“Ugh I’m hard again...”

“Cumming in you... argh!”

The duration of two hours is long over, but you're still pounding into Seolhyun, still pushing her over the infinite edges of pleasure and following her over shortly. You don't even know if you're still actually producing semen, but it didn't matter, you still felt pleasure, and so you still fuck Seolhyun. The earplugs and blindfold has fallen off at some point, but neither of you even notice it—it didn't matter anymore. Who cares for senses when you're chasing yet another incredible high?

At some indeterminate point your body simply stops working, and you collapse on top of Seolhyun. The end to the "festivities" comes to a close, and Seolhyun finally relaxes, releasing her limbs from your body and your cock from her pussy.

"I, can't, move..." she gasps, the soreness and strain from being tense for so long catching up to her. She doesn't even realize she can hear herself clearly.

"Me neither..." Seolhyun tenses painfully again as she realizes she can hear you clearly, and carefully she tries to open her eyes—she wasn't blindfolded!

"I can see!"

"You can? Oh, the blindfold probably fell off sometime." You try to push yourself up and off Seolhyun, but even that proves too much for your body at the moment. "You're stuck with me for a while, I really can't move."

"I don't mind... That was a lot, but wow." Seolhyun's comment hangs in the air, and she blushes at your silence. "Wow in an amazing way, not in a 'I can't believe that's your kink' way."

"Sorry, I just wanted you to cum as hard and as much as possible, and that is one way to do it."

"What? Why? I wanted you to do what you want."

"That is what I want, it gets me off when you completely lose it, no need to think about roleplay or fulfilling requests, just pure desire and hunger." Seolhyun blushes deeper as pieces come back to memory—she doesn't remember much of what happened, just that she wanted to cum, that she couldn't stop cumming, and that she didn't want to stop, and that's exactly what she let herself do.

"Did I do anything embarrassing, it was all a blur." Seolhyun's just praying she didn't say anything that would break the deal.

"No, you were fucking hot, I lost control of myself as well. Normally we wouldn't end up like this, I'm sorry, it won't happen again." Seolhyun raises her hands to your face, helping you turn to face her. She doesn't look unhappy or annoyed, if anything she seemed to be glowing.

"No, I'm glad it happened, you got to do what you really wanted."

"Right, thanks, I guess." You do your best to remain professional.

"Good, now hold me for a little bit more." You're too weak to say no. When you finally manage the strength to roll off her the two of you survey the "damage"—you're both drenched in sweat, your cock is sore, and Seolhyun is absolutely overflowing with cum.

"Fuck I'm so sore too." She winces as she puts a finger in herself, and your load covers her finger quickly. "How much did you put in me..." You hand her tissues as an apology, and she cleans up the mess between her legs somewhat. Even when she stands up you see rivulets of your load leaking out of her.

"It's safe, I take precautions on my end," you remind her lamely, as a reassurance more than anything.

"I know, it's a safe day for me too, just a lot to deal with."

"Right." You watch her hurry to the bathroom, and decide it is time to leave her be. The clock confirms it—you've been with Seolhyun for well over two hours.

"I should go, it's very late."

"You should at least shower, we smell like... well, sex." You open your mouth to refuse, but Seolhyun's look insists that you do. You let her shower first, trying to come up with other reasons on why you should leave now, but as soon as she exits the bathroom she's shoving a towel into your hands and pushing you in. You come out much more refreshed, and you bow to her after getting dressed, slightly abashed.

"We definitely went over time and I apologize for that, I lost track of time. I don't need payment for tonight."

"So tonight doesn't count as a session?" Seolhyun asks, spotting a loophole for herself.

"Yes, if you've already sent me payment I'll consider it credit for next time."

"Got it, well then." You freeze as Seolhyun hugs you tightly from behind. "I really do like you, you know?"

"We've been over this, we'll have to stop—"

"No we don't, this wasn't a session, you said it yourself."

"I mean— Fine, you got me, but I will reiterate, you don't know me, and I don't know you."

"Yes I do, and you know me too, so what if we met as part of your job! What do I have to do to convince you? To at least try to see me as a potential girlfriend now?"

You frown and rub your head, now Seolhyun is giving you a headache. This is not how you wanted things to go, and she's even more attached to you now.

"I don't know, prove to me that you see me as more than a good fuck. I don't know how you would, because frankly, I haven't seen anything from anyone in my job that could make me think like that, but that's what I need to see you as more than another customer."

Your words cut deep into Seolhyun, and she sniffles behind you. "That's all I am to you, after all these sessions, all the time we spent?" Maybe a clean cut is the only way to go.

"That is correct, you pay me to fuck you at these sessions, and I do it, that's all."

"You didn't feel anything with me just now? You said you lost it yourself!"

"You said it didn't count as a session, so no." Seolhyun feels her heart crack, her own words turned against her—why did she think this was a good idea in the first place?

"You're a fucking cold bastard, you know that right?" Now it is her turn to retaliate, and you resist the urge to push her away angrily. You settle for firmly prying her fingers off you, distancing yourself from her.

"That’s right, I am. I... have to be, I'm sorry Miss Kim, good bye." You walk out the door and close it with finality—you did not expect to see her again.

Angry and heartbroken Seolhyun stares at her phone, trying to drill a hole through it with her gaze. Her head tries to come up with a way to prove herself to you; her heart makes her finger twitch, urging her to just delete your number once and for all; her pussy tries to find a way to undo everything, so that you’d at least keep her on as a customer and give her physical satisfaction. One body part wins out in the end.

Weeks later, you receive a message from an unexpected number, one you had yet to delete.

*Session #: 1*

*Location: Cafe of your choice*

*Time: Saturday at 2 pm*

*Duration: However long you want*

*Request: Just want to get to know you, no sex*

You ponder Seolhyun’s request and sigh.

*I have an appointment with another customer then, so I'm afraid that time won't work*

It was a white lie, but you had to test her, had to know she can at least handle the thought before you open up to her.

*That's fine, what about Sunday at the same time*

You release the breath you were holding, smile and text back.

*Price: 0, my treat*

A/N: Somehow in a story full of gratuitous smut I still manage to have a happy ending, argh XD Anyways, I didn’t really want to write AOA generally because their whole scandal was a complete mess, but everyone seems to have moved on from it by now, so... eh I dunno *shrugs*

I was tempted several times to just remove the “l” and make it about Seohyun, but I think ultimately Seolhyun fit the idea I had the best, so hope it works. Thanks for reading!

#smut #seolhyun

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piratefishmama · 10 months

Text

Nest | Part 7

The cafeteria was… chaotic, on the best of days. You had to have nerves of steel and endless patience to work in those kitchens, they couldn’t just walk around with a list of options for Omegas to choose from for their days ahead, it was a ‘they want this right this minute and it could change in five so be quick!!’ kind of deal.

They were dealing with Heat-minded Omegas, which meant they might as well have been dealing with a whole building full of pregnant people. Cravings right left and centre and none of them made any sense to anyone with working tastebuds.

The only thing they consistently had, was carbs.

It meant they had to get creative sometimes.

Owens had been an absolute genius and had made sure there were a few fridges and cabinets stocked at all times with the base items to make up the ‘weirder shit’ that couldn’t be made on the fly. Like Celery sticks, peanut butter, Nutella, carrots, etc.

Anything vaguely phallic shaped was cut up into chunks, slices, or mashed because heat-minded Omegas were sometimes very stupid.

The cabinets also stocked treats too, various snack foods, chips, candy, cakes, etc. It was mostly carb loading foods, things high in carbohydrates which Omegas needed and often craved during the second stage of their heat.

Owens funded that one himself. Took the cost of whatever went into those fridges and those cabinets right out of his own pocket because it wasn’t industry standard across the clinics to have them, so the government wouldn’t fund the addition to the kitchens.

But that brilliant idea had taken a lot of stress off of the four cooks they had on staff, two betas, one Alpha her Omega mate. All of whom had been so close to quitting before the fridges and cabinets were installed. Overworked and underpaid.

This meant that Steve’s trip to the cafeteria was a quick one. He grabbed snack foods, a few veggie options, and picked up one of each tub of Nutella and Peanut butter, worst case scenario, Eddie wouldn’t want any of it, but at the very least he’d appreciate Steve bringing them to him. Like a good Alpha, providing for his Omega.

He put it all into a little basket, and carried it out with him, paying little mind to the looks he was getting.

He knew what he’d almost done. He knew how close he’d come to doing something he couldn’t take back, and no matter how much Eddie had asked for him to do it… whether he’d be happy about it after his heat cleared… that wouldn’t make a difference.

He’d have assaulted an Omega during their heat.

So he took the looks, kept his head down and quickly made his way back to Eddie’s room, where sure enough two Betas had been posted outside to act as guards given their natural ability to neutralise both heat and rut pheromones with their own.

Alphas were good for strongarming someone, but a Beta would be more useful in a pheromone based frenzy.

“Harrington” one of them greeted him, and for a moment, just a moment, he thought they wouldn’t let him in, but neither of them stopped him from unlocking the door, and neither of them said another word against him going inside.

They were there just in case, to protect Eddie.

Eddie, who was still asleep when he walked in, just as he’d expected him to be, Eddie who’d pulled a blanket free from the structure of the nest to curl around, who seemed to stir the closer Steve got to the nest until he was grumbling, sleepy, his eyes still partially closed but uncurling from his blanket to reach out to him with a soft “Alphaaa” that made Steve’s heart clench.

“M’here Eddie, wakey wakey, Omega, m’here” he had permission to enter the nest already, but he still waited just long enough for Eddie to reach out to him. “I got you some things, Eds” speaking softly, he climbed in, lowering himself to sit beside the sleepy Omega, who peeked at him through thick dark brown curls.

Curls that Steve found himself gently brushing aside behind his ear to see that pretty face underneath, pretty, awake, and smiling at him.

“You got me things?” God he was beautiful. How had he never noticed how beautiful this ridiculous Omega was? How had he been so blind? "Is my big strong Alpha providing for me?"

Focus Steve, he told himself, do not let him rile you up. “Mmhm, some food, snacks really, I wasn’t sure what you’d be hungry for yet, so I got a variety of things just in case” he’d have brought the entire goddamn cafeteria for him had he known it’d make him light up like a few snacks did.

Eddie was up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the back of his hand, smiling, “Oh god m’starving… how’d you know I’d be hungry?” Steve didn’t stop him from grabbing the basket, smiling in warm amusement as he watched Eddie rifle through the goodies picking out the things he actually wanted, thankful that among the things, there were actually things he’d want.

“Stage two. Owens… the director here, he… said something, that how your reactions to things are like you’re skipping heat stages in response to finally having an alpha nearby.” He wouldn’t mention the scent mate thing, not yet anyway, he wasn’t about to get his hopes up and Eddie didn’t need that confusion on top of everything. “I figured since the nest is made up and we’re comfortable with each other, you’d probably jump into the second stage before the days up, very uncommon but not impossible apparently, so you’d start getting really hungry pretty soon.”

“Having it broken down like stages feels weird, like… clinical I guess.”

“We are in a clinic.”

“Touché.” Eddie opened a bag of chips, content to eat those for the time being, but an expression of thought still lingered on his face as he ate before he asked “Did… did you get into trouble?”

“No, I would have… had I not stopped myself, but Owens has faith in my ability to keep my hands and other parts to myself.”

“Boooo” Steve laughed, ducking his head in bashful amusement “think if you got my legal guardian’s permission you’d be able to—”

“Your uncle can't consent for you, not that anyone in their right mind would ask him, plus he’s not even your legal guardian anymore, you’re older than me, Eddie, you’re your own legal guardian.” Unfortunately that meant he was shit out of luck. “I can hold you though… if you’d like that?”

“…Will you?” In response, Steve opened his arms up, giving Eddie the perfect little spot to crawl and snuggle himself back into, tucking his legs in and leaning back into Steve’s warm embrace, releasing the softest hum of contentment as Steve buried his face into the junction between neck and shoulder and just breathed, his arms squeezing gently around him.

He still smelled earthy, like camping in the forest, dirt, moss, everything Steve loved about morning jogs through the woods, or hikes into the mountains, the smells. It filled his senses and left him rumbling, content, purring into Eddie’s neck, delighting at the sound of Eddie’s own matching purr as he relaxed into the embrace, only the crunch of chips breaking those little purrs. “Feel better?” Steve hummed into his neck.

Eddie snuggled himself back, as if trying to climb inside his Alpha, snuggling his head up under Steve’s chin, remnants of sleep still clinging to his mind making it easy to fall into a comfortable doze, even with his chips in his arms. “Mmnhm… promise you’ll do this when I get out of here too?”

“You’ll have to fight me off with a stick.”

“Duel at sunset? I might surrender very quickly if I get cuddles out of it.” Steve pressed a light kiss into the top of Eddie’s hair then nuzzled into his curls.

“Then I accept your surrender ahead of schedule and offer cuddles for as long as you want them.”

“Is forever a good amount of time?”

“Forever is the perfect amount of time.”

Part 9

#PirateWrites #NestFiclet #Steddie #CW: A/B/O #No Upside Down AU #Omegaverse #Omega!Eddie Munson #Alpha!Steve Harrington

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suzukiblu · 4 months

Note

Parasite WIP is so good and I desperately want more of it! I voted for it in the poll and I’m so sad it didn’t win

Friend, I appreciate you asking after it because it really is one of my fucked-up faves that I really need to work on more, so uh . . . have all 4500 words of the prose so far all together, hahaha. Yes, yes I DID reformat this whole thing into Tumblr-friendliness all for you. THAT IS HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOUR APPRECIATION, FRIEND. ( so definitely we are gonna need that read-more down there, lol. )

Clark wakes up.

Clark didn't even know he wasn't awake.

"Superman," Bruce says with absolute neutrality. He's wearing the cowl. Standing in rubble. Clark is . . . not standing in rubble.

Laying in rubble. That's what Clark is doing.

Bruce is looking down at him very, very carefully, and seems . . . reserved.

Reserved for Bruce, even.

"What happened?" Clark asks, trying not to concentrate on the little seed of dread that the sight of that reservation invokes in him. He can hear the heartbeats of other League members, here and there in the wreckage of the street around them. Hear civilians and city noise. Hear Lois and Jon, distantly, and Ma and Pa, even more distant. And . . . Kara–both of her–and . . .

"We'll go with 'electrocution', but I think we can safely say just about anyone else would've been virtually incinerated," Bruce informs him, distracting Clark from his mental rundown of people he's currently worried about. "Or just exploded."

"Ah," Clark says with a grimace. Well, that explains why his head hurts so damn bad, he guesses.

At least it was him, then, and not any "anyone else"s.

He pushes himself up. Looks around. He . . . isn't sure where they are, exactly, except that it's probably somewhere on Earth and within the continental United States, judging by the architecture and signs he's seeing and the accents and languages he's hearing.

He has absolutely no idea how they got here, though. The last thing he remembers is . . .

. . . he's not actually sure what the last thing he remembers is.

Not a great sign, that.

Bruce is watching him. Like he's . . . expecting something, almost. Clark would ask, but there's an odd feeling distracting him. Something's . . . off, somehow.

Missing.

Bruce's utility belt is a new design, he notes absently. J'onn is down the street a bit and his costume looks a little different too. And Diana . . .

Diana is over across the way, and her hair is a couple inches longer than he remembers it being.

Clark would assume he was mistaken, except for the eidetic memory and all.

"Hm," Clark says.

"Hm?" Bruce says. He still sounds faultlessly neutral.

"Trying to figure out if I'm in the right reality. Things look a little off," Clark replies, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in concentration. No unexpected sounds or scents. No particular feeling of disorientation that can't be accounted for by being apparently electrocuted. No additional pains past the dull pressure in his head or any immediately obvious peculiarities beyond the minor little scattered differences here and there in his teammates.

But something is–

"I can't hear Kon," Clark realizes abruptly. He doesn't usually especially keep an ear out for the kid, at least not deliberately, but . . .

Bruce . . . pauses.

"You can't," he says, very carefully. It doesn't sound like a question.

It sounds like something, though.

"I can't," Clark confirms anyway, glancing around again. He still doesn't know where this is. "Where are we, exactly?"

"What's the date, Kal?" Bruce asks, and Clark's heart sinks.

He answers the question.

Bruce's mouth thins.

Hell, Clark thinks.

"We're currently in Keystone City," Bruce says, very carefully expressionless. "We've been here for three days. The date you just provided me was a full fourteen months ago. And Kon-El has been MIA for roughly thirteen and a half of those months."

Hell, Clark thinks, and doesn't let himself process anything past that.

"We need to get a scan of your brain," Bruce says. "For starters."

"For starters," Clark agrees tightly.

Bruce tells Diana they're leaving, then abandons the rubble and takes Clark up to the Watchtower. Clark goes. He doesn't ask what electrocuted him or who's died in the past fourteen months or if there's anything immediately urgent that he should know. Bruce would've already told him, if there was.

And he thinks he'd choke on the question if he tried, anyway.

They go to the med bay. There's a total stranger standing in it who smiles at them when they step through the door.

"Haven't seen you in here in quite a while, Superman," the stranger observes in amusement, tapping a pen against the clipboard in their hands. "You still haven't been in for that checkup I owe you, you know."

"He doesn't know you," Bruce informs them evenly. The stranger blinks.

"Sorry?" they say.

"He was electrocuted," Bruce says. "Now he thinks it's fourteen months ago. We need a brain scan. Immediately."

"Hell," the stranger says, their eyes widening in alarm.

Clark gets the brain scan.

He and Bruce wait in a convenient exam room for the results, which seem to be taking a while. Bruce seems a bit more guarded than usual, which means Clark is standing next to goddamn Fort Knox right now. He sighs to himself.

"Suppose at this rate I should call and tell Lois and Jon I'll be late for dinner," he jokes wryly as he folds his arms, no real humor in the comment, and Bruce goes very, very still beside him.

. . . hell.

They're not dead. He knows they're not dead, he heard their heartbeats before they left for the watchtower, Bruce would've already told him if either of them were–

"They aren't expecting you," Bruce says with absolutely no intonation whatsoever in his voice. "You moved out eight months ago. The divorce is already finalized."

"Ah," Clark says, very slowly. He doesn't let himself process, again. Not–just, not yet. "What happened?"

"You left them," Bruce says, and Clark . . . blinks.

"I left them?!" he demands incredulously. Leaving Lois is one thing, horrible and impossible a thought as it is, but– "Not just–I left them both?!"

"As you explained it to me, you were no longer interested in maintaining the . . . 'persona' of Clark Kent," Bruce replies carefully, looking just past him. "You said you couldn't stand the screaming anymore. That you appreciated us . . . humoring you for so long, but you couldn't just keep walking around making excuses and lying to everyone while people were suffering and dying just because you had to pretend to be human for a while. So yes. You left them. Haven't visited since Lois finally signed the divorce papers. Haven't spoken to your parents either. You've been . . . erratic. Since Kon-El's disappearance. When we couldn't find him . . . when we couldn't even find out what happened to him . . ."

"Oh," Clark says, and his heart sinks again.

He doesn't understand, though. Kon is–he cares about the kid, obviously. Cares very deeply about him. He's pretty sure he even loves him, at this point. But he's not . . .

It feels terrible to think it, but Clark doesn't understand why Kon disappearing like that would affect him enough to stop being Clark. It's awful, and he still hasn't let himself actually think about it happening at all because he really can't process it right now, but that awful? Really? Awful enough to abandon being any semblance of a normal person? Abandon Lois and his parents entirely?

Abandon Jon entirely?

Apparently, yes.

"Technically you're on unpaid sabbatical from the Planet," Bruce tells him. "We thought you might . . . reconsider, once you'd grieved properly, so Lois pulled some strings with Perry White. He thinks you're having an early mid-life crisis and your co-workers think you're off finding yourself in South America with a bad cell phone plan."

"I guess I don't believe in satellite phones?" Clark says, trying for wry again. It doesn't work, but he tries all the same.

"This is unfair of me, but I'm going to take advantage of your current mental state," Bruce says. He's looking at the wall, though there's nothing there to actually be looking at. Not even anything on the other side, at least not according to X-ray vision. "Try to remember how you feel right now, when your memories of the past year return. Try to remember who you are right now, when those memories return."

"Why?" Clark asks, watching him carefully as he does. The corners of Bruce's mouth tighten. Just barely, but undeniably.

"You've been . . . gone, Clark," Bruce says slowly. "You won't even answer to 'Clark' anymore. You aren't the same man that I . . . that we all . . ."

The stranger comes back before Bruce has to admit to too many personal feelings or Clark can figure out what to say to any of that, which might be a mercy but might also be–

The stranger looks . . . strange, Clark notices. Nauseated, almost. And definitely distressed.

"I haven't done brain scans on Superman before," they say, their grip on their clipboard concerningly close to white-knuckled. "And my predecessor apparently hadn't done any in a while either. Last ones in the system are over two years old."

"What's wrong?" Bruce says, narrowing his eyes. Honestly at this point Clark figures a kryptonite brain tumor would really just be the icing on the cake, and frankly would probably explain some of his apparent behavioral changes and current memory loss. That genuinely makes more sense than anything else, really, even with grief and guilt to contend with.

More sense than abandoning his own damn kid does, at least.

Although a tumor's the worst-case scenario, obviously. And it can't be any worse than that, really, or any worse than anything he's apparently done to his family this past year, so at least he's braced for–

"There's an . . . organism," the stranger says, swallowing uncomfortably. "In your brain."

"What?" Clark says.

"A dead organism, now," the stranger clarifies. "But it looks like it's been there for a while. There are . . . roots. And . . . lesions, too."

"An organism," Bruce repeats very, very slowly. "In Superman's brain."

"Yes," the stranger says.

"I don't . . ." Clark trails off.

"We need more scans," Bruce says.

"I ran it four times on two different machines," the stranger says. "It's organic. It's not giving off any recognizable life signs. It seems like it might've been . . . you mentioned electrocution, before?"

"You think the electricity killed it," Bruce realizes. "And then Superman forgot fourteen months?"

"I'm not sure Superman ever experienced those fourteen months to begin with," the stranger says tightly, gripping their clipboard even harder.

Clark was in no way whatsoever braced for this.

"Fuck," Bruce says.

More scans happen after all. A lot more scans, a lot of specialists, and a lot of arguing. Everything's a bit of a blur, in a sense. Clark absorbs very little of it, and mostly leaves things to Bruce unless he's asked a direct question about his medical history. His judgment might be compromised right now, after all, whether the . . . organism is dead or not.

The emergency OR gets prepped. The red sun lamps get set up inside it.

"Should we contact Lois?" Bruce asks as Clark's shrugging into an ill-fitting hospital gown and preparing himself to possibly die in pursuit of getting a dead who-knows-what out of his brain before it can start to rot there and potentially kill him that way. "Or your parents?"

"No," Clark says. "Just get this damn thing out of my head."

If he doesn't survive the removal process . . .

They don't know what's been going on. What he let happen to himself, somehow.

He isn't going to tell them he's back just to immediately take himself away again.

He records something for Jon, just in case. It's not enough, but it's–something, he tells himself. It's something.

It's all he can bring himself to do.

He leaves the disk with the recording on it with Bruce and asks him to have Dick deliver it, if it's necessary.

Things proceed from there, and Clark wakes up again a week later in a private room in the med bay, connected to half a dozen machines and needles and tubes and directly facing the sun. Diana is dozing in the chair next to his bed. Bruce is pacing at the foot of it. They're both in costume. Clark feels weak and groggy, but he can hear half a dozen other heartbeats lingering in the hall, so presumably they were expecting him to wake up around now.

"Mm," he says. Diana snaps awake. Bruce stops mid-step.

They both look at him.

"The operation was a success," Bruce informs him. "Textbook. Or as textbook as removing a mind-controlling parasite of unknown origins from a Kryptonian brain can get for mostly-human surgeons, anyway."

"Do you need anything?" Diana asks. "Would you like us to call your family yet?"

Clark shakes his head, then closes his eyes and sleeps for another week.

"Sleep", he supposes, counts as something that he needs right now.

The next time he wakes up, he's alone in his room and disconnected from the machines and just feels . . . normal, really. Like nothing was ever wrong at all and he didn't just have major surgery that was, essentially, the equivalent of multiple traumatic brain injuries. His hair is already starting to grow back from where it was buzzed down for the surgery, and there's not even any bandages on his head.

There's no noticeable scarring, Clark observes when he makes it to the little ensuite bathroom to take a look in the mirror. The surgeons told him there probably wouldn't be, given both the methods they'd been intending to use and the nature of his own physiology, but seeing the total lack of proof of what happened to him is just . . . strange, somehow.

It feels almost like a cheat. Like it should be obvious, in some way.

There was a parasite in his head. Something controlling him. Pretending to be him. Passing for him. It could've done anything it wanted.

It did do things that Clark still has no idea about.

So many things.

He couldn't even fight it. Wasn't conscious or aware enough to, or just not strong enough to, or just . . .

He couldn't even fight it.

And he doesn't know what it did.

The door opens. Diana walks in.

"Would you like us to call your family now?" she asks.

"Yes," Clark says roughly, curling his fingers around the sides of the sink in front of him. "Please."

"Of course," Diana says with a terrible and merciless gentleness.

Clark sits down on the lid of the toilet and just . . . cries. Just for a minute.

Or twenty.

Diana kneels in front of him and holds his hands in her own.

Fourteen months, Clark thinks, all twisted up with grief and pain and so, so much regret. He missed so much. He wasn't there for Jon or Lois or his parents. He wasn't there for Bruce or Diana or the League, for either of Kara, for . . .

For Kon. He wasn't there for Kon.

Wasn't there for Kon when the kid needed him.

Kon completely vanished, and who knows if the damn parasite even pretended to help look for him? If it did anything at all for him? Who knows if Clark could've found him, could've saved him, if he'd still been himself at the time?

. . . who knows if the parasite isn't what made Kon disappear to begin with?

It took fourteen months of Clark's life, and Kon . . . Kon disappeared two weeks into those fourteen months.

If nothing else, the timing is a screaming red flag.

Clark abandoned his son and might've murdered a kid who only ever looked up to him, a kid who he was never really able to fully understand but literally named, and he can't do anything to bring Kon back or to make up for the year that he wasn't there for the rest of his family.

Their family.

God, what has he done? What has Clark done, and did Kon die feeling afraid or shocked or terrified? Did he die feeling betrayed? Did he think it was Clark doing it, however it happened?

Did he die thinking Clark wanted him to die?

Clark doesn't even know what happened to his body.

There won't be another resurrection.

Clark chokes. Diana squeezes his hands. He grips hers like a lifeline and shudders through it. The grief is a terrible, ugly thing. It's one of the worst things Clark's ever felt.

The guilt is worse.

"Lois," he murmurs finally, feeling like the weakest man alive. "Could you call . . . Lois, please, and just . . . ask if she'll come. I'll explain it all to her, just–could you call her, please."

"Yes," Diana says, squeezing his hands again. "Of course."

"Thank you," Clark says.

He pulls himself together, more or less, and Diana goes to make the call. She comes back a few minutes later and tells him Lois agreed, but needs to find a babysitter first. Clark in no way blames her for not bringing Jon along and frankly is surprised she's willing to come at all.

He's not sure what he could even say to Jon right now.

What can he?

Diana makes sure he eats something, then leaves for monitor duty. Clark tries not to overthink things. Tries not to think too much at all.

He spent fourteen months not thinking at all, though, all of it lost in one oblivious blink, so that doesn't work out all that well for him.

An hour later, he hears the Zeta platform activate on the opposite side of the base, and hears Lois's heartbeat appear inside the watchtower.

Clark exhales, very slowly.

He waits.

Lois comes to the med bay. She doesn't stop to talk to anyone on the way. Doesn't talk to anyone except that stranger Clark still doesn't actually know the name of, who tells her where to find him.

And then a minute or a millennium later she's standing in the open doorway of his room, and Clark is looking at her. Her expression is neutral, and her hair is shorter than it was the last time he remembers seeing her–the last time he was the one actually seeing her. An inverse bob, not shoulder-length anymore. He recognizes the blazer and heels that she's wearing, but not the blouse or the pants. Not the earrings or the necklace, either.

And there's no wedding ring to recognize either way.

Clark wonders what happened to his.

God, but she's still the most amazing woman he's ever seen, and he's still never once deserved a single part of her. Not even a fraction of a part.

Especially not now.

"Kal," she greets, tone just as neutral as her expression, and Clark aches.

"Clark," he says, just a little too abrupt, and Lois–pauses.

"Clark," she amends casually as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her blazer, and if he didn't know her quite so well he wouldn't have even heard the crack in her voice around his name, super-hearing or not. "Never seen your hair this short. I kinda miss the curl, not gonna lie. It has charm, you know? Very boy scout next door."

"I had emergency brain surgery," Clark says. Lois pauses again. Tilts her head. He keeps talking. "Two weeks ago, now. Just woke up again fully today."

"What?" she says, just staring at him. "You–what happened?"

"It's . . . unclear, still," Clark replies slowly. "But as far as we can tell, roughly fourteen months back an unidentified alien parasite moved into my brain and . . . took me over, essentially. I don't actually–I don't remember any of that time. At all. Then two weeks ago I got electrocuted in Keystone and the parasite died. The surgery was to remove its body so my brain could heal from the damage it did without it rotting in there."

Lois keeps staring at him.

"Fourteen months," she echoes very, very carefully.

"I'm so sorry," Clark says tightly. "Bruce told me I left you. Left you and Jon. That I stopped being . . . myself. I can't imagine how difficult that was, or how it must've felt."

"I can't imagine how waking up and hearing that none of us even noticed you were gone felt," Lois says.

"You never do pull a punch, do you," Clark says with a weak attempt at a smile.

"I'm sorry," Lois says evenly. "I should've known."

"No one did," Clark says, then . . . hesitates. "Or . . . we think no one did."

"You think that's what happened to Kon," Lois says, because of course she's already done the math, and of course she's already had the thought herself. Obviously she would've.

"The timing is . . . likely, at least," Clark says. "And really, if anyone was going to see my face and notice that a different person was wearing it . . ."

"You have a point," Lois murmurs. She steps into the room. Clark wants to hold her. He also wants to bury himself in the coldest, darkest place that he can find and never, ever let himself see the sun again.

He doesn't deserve it anymore.

"I'm so angry that I want to cry," Lois says, her voice very distant and her eyes locked on his. Clark can see her hands fisting in her pockets. "I'm so . . . god. I should've known. You never would've left Jon. Not like that."

"Bruce made it sound like the parasite was . . . very convincing," Clark says. It convinced Bruce, who may just be the most paranoid mind on the planet, so . . .

"It was," Lois agrees, still without taking her eyes off his. "But I still should've known."

Clark blinks a little too quickly. Lois tightens her jaw. Takes her hands out of her pockets and leaves them at her sides instead. Clark never thought he'd see them without her wedding ring again.

"It's been–months, I know," he says, hating himself for thinking he even deserves to say this. "For you. But I still . . ."

"I love you," Lois says. "Come home."

There is no possible world in which he could tell her "no".

Med bay makes him wait for another two hours of observation and runs some scans, but then they let him go. Lois waits with him the whole time. She doesn't call anyone or send any texts. Doesn't leave the room. Barely says a word. Hardly even takes her eyes off him, like she thinks if she blinks he's going to disappear.

Clark can hardly keep her heartbeat out of his ears, so he doesn't blame her.

He doesn't blame her at all.

They go to Smallville. Bruce had said he'd send Dick to pick up Jon from the babysitter's and get him to the farm, and as much as Clark had wanted to go straight to him himself . . .

Ma and Pa first, he reminds himself. This is going to be upsetting for Jon–most likely traumatic, once it all sinks in. And definitely disorienting. It'll be best if as many of the adults in his life as possible know what's going on in advance, so he can go to whoever he needs to go to; get whatever comfort they can prepare themselves to offer.

Clark doesn't know how to do this.

He doesn't . . .

They don't take two steps onto the farm before a familiar blur is crashing into him head-on.

"Oh," Clark manages, and Krypto barks excitedly and flies up to lick his face, tail wagging wildly as he jumps all over him. Like he's missed him. Like he's been waiting for him.

Clark nearly cries again.

"Good boy, Krypto," he tells him, quiet and rough. "I missed you too, boy."

He scratches Krypto's ears. Strokes his back. Krypto nearly bowls him over in delight.

Clark buries his face in his neck and cries a bit after all.

Lois watches.

Waits.

Clark spends . . . maybe a little bit too long crying on his dog, and then they all head up to the house. Ma and Pa are both standing on the porch; presumably they heard Krypto barking. They both look a little bit startled and a little bit confused and a lot more pained at the sight of him, and Clark swallows painfully and stops just before the porch steps.

He looks at them, and he loves them so desperately. Everything they ever did for him, and everything they've ever been to him, and . . .

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just . . . there was . . ."

God, the way this hurts.

"It was mind control," he says. "The past fourteen months or so. I was . . . I wasn't. Wasn't here. Or . . . anywhere."

"Oh," Ma says, and her eyes are instantly wet with tears. Pa blinks very quickly, his hand curling against the porch railing.

"I'm so, so sorry," Clark repeats tightly, his own hands in useless fists. "But I'm–back now. I'm home."

"Oh, Clark," Ma chokes, and then they both throw themselves at him. Clark's been hugged by people with strength far past superhuman, but it's never felt . . .

No. It's never once felt the same way as when his parents do it.

They cling to him. He clings back. Krypto barks again and swoops around the knot of them, wagging his tail hard enough to nearly knock Lois over with the force of wind it stirs up. Definitely some of the porch furniture gets displaced.

Clark feels so much.

They sit together on the porch, Krypto sprawled contentedly across Clark's lap and Lois on the steps beside him. Clark gives Ma and Pa what explanation he can–tells them everything he knows about Keystone and the electrocution and the watchtower and the surgery and waking up. They watch him just as intently as Lois does the entire time.

He doesn't . . . he doesn't mention his suspicions about what might've happened to Kon. Not . . . not yet.

He doesn't know how to. Not to Ma and Pa. Not after he brought the kid here and left him on their doorstep with no real direction and . . .

Just–he'll tell them. He'll tell them soon.

Just . . . not yet.

It's not a very long talk, in the end. Ma and Pa take in everything he says and just take it all in stride, just like they always have. Baby in a spaceship? Kid with superpowers? Son who thinks he can save the whole damn world?

Of course they take it in stride.

Clark loves them too much to even define. Too much to even wrap his own head around. They're the best people he knows. The best people he's ever known.

They don't even think there's anything for him to be sorry for.

It's . . . painful, a little, when Clark realizes that.

Or a lot.

So, so damn painful.

Clark hears the definitely-not-a-Batmobile coming, far down the road. Three heartbeats inside it. Dick, Damian, and . . .

Jon.

Obviously.

Clark strokes Krypto's ears one last time, then gets up. No one asks him why, but he supposes the look on his face must be answer enough right now.

He steps off the porch and goes to wait by the driveway.

It's not that long a wait, but it feels like the better part of eternity.

#clark kent #lois lane #clois #superfamily #bruce wayne #diana of themyscira #rinfic #anonymous #wip: the parasite

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fuckyeahisawthat · 3 months

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thank you so much for that excellent chani post. i've seen some annoying takes on twitter about how not making her totally devoted and subservient to paul makes her 'unlikeable' and i'm like. buddy. i think that speaks more to how you see women. than anything about her. this chani is very dynamic and interesting to me.

i'll be honest and say i've not read the books. this is me speaking from what i've seen of summaries, but i think giving her a real cause to fight for yet also genuinely loving paul gives her an interesting struggle, and also plays into how the portrayal of the fremen (seems to me to be) more diverse and nuanced. as in, the fremen themselves seem to have more of a push-and-pull to them. the clarification of how different fremen believe differently (the south being more fundamentalist) is a very important thing to include in a movie where you can run into the danger of saying that all adherents to a foreign, islam-adjacent (in coding) religion are all fundamentalists. that can (in less nuanced hands) be a pretty irresponsible thing. so showing that there's also more secular/pragmatic/less dogmatic sectors of the culture seems a pretty good counterweight.

so yeah. this is how i processed it as a movie-goer. and having chani represent that aspect (believing in people over prophecy, action over religion) and having stilgar as the humanized face of the southern peoples (showing that yknow, regardless of being fundamenist beliefs, theyre still PEOPLE with the capacity for love, friendship, honor) makes total logical sense. you're not just "telling" us that there's different aspects to fremen culture, you're SHOWING us by showing different characters who represent those aspects, without demonizing either or turning either into a one-note stereotype.

Thank you! I'm not someone who was a long-term fan of the books before the movie came out (I tried reading Dune as a teenager when I was reading a lot of classic sci-fi but found it too boring) but I did read Dune and Dune Messiah after the first movie came out, both because I wanted to know what happened next and because I wanted to have an opinion on how the movies worked as adaptations.

(book and movie spoilers below and also I basically ended up writing a whole essay in response to this)

My single biggest frustration with the book is that after they arrive at Sietch Tabr and Jessica drinks the Water of Life and becomes Reverend Mother...the book up and skips two years of the story and when we next see Paul he's already got Fremen followers who are ready to die for him and he's in an established relationship with Chani. Oh I was SO MAD when I got to this part. I was like FRANK. FRANK!!!! Did you seriously just skip two years of the most interesting part of your own story???

The thing is, even though I know that Frank Herbert's intention was to write a critique of the idea that oppressed people need an enlightened external (white) savior to liberate them...if you don't provide an alternate explanation for what's happening then you end up falling into some Orientalist tropes anyway. And because, in the book, we don't see the process of how your average background fedaykin comes to trust Paul as a military and political leader, there is nothing in the text to counter the idea that the Fremen are a bunch of unquestioning religious fanatics easily swayed to do violence by belief in a prophecy.

My second biggest frustration with the book is that we're given no reason at all why Chani would fall in love with Paul. While she has some memorable scenes, she doesn't have a lot to do as a character in the book, and she's missing from a whole chunk of the end...because she's in the south...because she and Paul have a baby, Leto II, who's then killed off-page when the sardaukar attack the south. (I'm honestly really glad they cut this from the film, because it never seemed to be given the narrative weight it deserved in the book.)

So you can imagine how happy I was when the Villeneuve movies figured out how to address both these frustrations by tying them together. The fedaykin don't just blindly accept Paul because of some prophecy. They come to trust him because he proves himself as a fighter, and because he starts out from a place of genuine solidarity and humility--which it is possible for him to do because he has no structural power over them at that point. And Chani falls in love with him for the same reason, in that heady environment of fighting side by side for a political cause, and maybe for the first time in a while starting to believe that you can win.

I think the Villeneuve movies improve a lot on what's in the book in terms of how the Fremen are portrayed...when we're with the fedaykin and/or Chani and Stilgar. There we see political debates and discussion and the fact that not all the Fremen think the same way. And we also see little humanizing moments of folks just hanging out, celebrating after a victory in battle and just shooting the shit and being friends.

I do wish the movie had extended this to more parts of Fremen society. If there's one thing I could have added, it would be seeing more of daily life in Sietch Tabr. It makes sense that when we're seeing things from Jessica's POV, she is more distant from and suspicious of the Fremen, seeing them as a force to be manipulated, but I wish we had even one or two scenes of people just being people in the sietch. It felt kind of weirdly empty and not particularly lived-in as a place, and I think they could've easily countered this, with scenes from Chani, Stilgar or Paul's POV, and that would have made it hit even harder when the sietch is attacked.

If there were two things I could have added, I wanted more exploration of the people of the south. Why are they more fundamentalist than the Fremen who live in the north? (We get one line about how "nothing can survive [in the south] without faith" but I wanted more than that.) While I think the movie did a fantastic job of humanizing and differentiating the Fremen we see around Paul, when we get to the south it does backslide a little into "undifferentiated mass of fanatics." Surely the people of the south also have some diversity of political views.

I think there are some interesting threads they could have pulled on in terms of how proximity to direct colonial violence shapes people's ideology. Sietch Tabr is one of the closest Fremen communities to Arrakeen, the seat of colonial control. They have probably had to mount some kind of armed resistance for generations just to keep from being wiped out. I can see that producing skepticism of the prophecy ("well I can't sit around waiting for a messiah but I do have this rocket launcher") as well as resentment at the idea of someone swooping in and taking credit for a struggle that you've put your life on the line for, and probably a lot of people you know have died for. There seem to be some generational differences, too, where young people of Chani's generation put less stock in the prophecy, while the true believers are mostly older. I can see faith in the prophecy coming out of despair--when you've been fighting for decades with no change, maybe you draw the conclusion that only an outside power coming to your aid will make a difference. While the people of the south are still under colonial rule, maybe being generally outside the reach of direct Harkonnen violence (the Harkonnens don't even know they're there) makes the concepts of both oppression and liberation feel more abstract and more receptive to being filled in with Bene Gesserit mysticism. It seems absurd to want more from a movie that's nearly three hours long already...but I wanted more of this.

Still, I do think they managed to improve on a lot of things that frustrated me or are simply dated about the book, while keeping the political thriller/war drama/epic tragedy elements that I think are the heart of the story, and in some cases drawing them out more clearly and effectively than the book did. The best kind of book-to-film adaptation imo is one that has a strong point of view in terms of what the story is About, on a large-scale thematic level, and is not afraid to change individual elements of canon in service of telling that story the most effective way possible in a cinematic medium. While there are always things I want more of, I feel like Denis Villeneuve really, really understood the assignment in terms of the overarching themes of the the story and he delivered so fucking well.

#dune #dune spoilers #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune 2021 #dune books #chani kynes #asks answered

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glitteryinknotes · 9 months

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Astarion & his life before Cazador

After seeing a few different takes on it, my thoughts have been circling around Astarion's pre - vampiric life and what it must have been like to shape him into the person we know, behind the trauma and his attempts to hide the truth of his feelings and vulnerability inside him.

After days of musings, I've tried to gather my thoughts into a single analysis of a sort, both on his general mindset and his life as the person buried in the graveyard as Astarion Ancunin.

What can be said - disappointing as it is - is that in his life he most likely was what can be tactfully referred to as "an asshole". He held a magistrate's position, but most likely didn't give a damn about anything other than luxuries this position provided him with and the life of utter debauchery he was given on a silver plate. I don't think he's ever had to really fend for anything nor work towards anything, or deal with any kind of problems either on personal or any other level. What's worse - he probably had his part in some form of severe oppression of the common people, otherwise why would he get jumped and beaten to death (his attackers clearly aimed for his death, not just a lesson to be taught) in his own city.

(I would like to mark at that point that my further thoughts are not an excuse for him being a shitty person. If he was a dick indeed, that's on him)

Astarion is, fundamentally, as others have pointed out before me, a rather selfish person - or more specifically, self - absorbed to the point of selfishness. That's one of his core vices.

However.

He isn't an evil person either. He is capable of compassion and taking interest in other people. He is fiercely loyal to those he loves (that being Tav) and capable of consideration, pride and joy for those he considers friends. He is very slow to trust (understandably so) or accept kindness - but once he does, he remains true to the people who granted him those gifts. His confession scenes are the best proof of that - where his consience, still intact, is eating him up as he can't stomach leading on the only person he knows who treated him well.

And as much as he adores his own charms, beauty, pleasure, fine things, there is deep within him the yearning for something more than that. He isn't truly sated by all of those shallow things, nor is he pushed to any kind of growth within them. This yearning is something he is barely able to recognise and understand himself, let alone pursue it. But it's there.

Astarion's character and behavioral patterns must have been shaped before. The trauma from Cazador's enslavement broke him, scarred his psyche to unimaginable extent, exposed his worse qualities and drove him to become a shell of who he could have been, leaving him utterly out of touch with himself, burdened with indescribable guilt and self - loathing, stuck in desperate survival mindset. But his inner self was still shaped somewhere and somehow.

I've come to imagine that his pre-vampiric life wasn't really a happy one. It was undoubtedly rich, loud, unspoiled by any hardships, but fundamentally empty. Without any semblance of meaning, without any true kinship with anyone or any genuine emotional intimacy. Even if he lived like there was no tomorrow and nothing in the world mattered but his pleasure - deep down, maybe he knew he wasn't truly satisfied and that no amount of shameless, drunk debauchery would ever fullfill this emptiness. Perhaps he craved something more after all, something he hadn't been taught how to seek.

Now how could it have come to that?

He was most likely born in some wealthy local family (or one with considerable influence in the city) that held the position of the magistrate for generations, hence his lifestyle and being granted the title at such a young age for elven standards (he was 39 at the time of his presumed death; i personally would equal that to no more than 30 years by human standards, more like middle 20s even). He was obviously somebody's son - but I don't personally believe he ever experienced the healthy, genuine love a child should be provided, he strikes me as a type of person who never quite had a good, trusted role model to look up to, no one to call him out on his vices and lovingly steer him into growing into a possibly best version of himself. No one to check him on his selfish instincts and show him that there may be a more rewarding way of going through the world. That kind of thing usually happens through some sort of neglect and lack of sufficient care; my guess is that he never had an actual meaningful bond with his parents, was raised mostly by hired caretakers and overall in his childhood didn't experience the much needed selfless love & care from emotionally close people, the kind of love that subconsciously makes us believe that there is good and kindness in the world and that it's worth the effort on our part.

Whatever came in his elder years couldn't have been better, and it certainly didn't make him a better person. Some amount of power, money, countless pleasures, all of that he so adores but which doesn't ultimately fullfill him nor make him truly value and appreciate himself on a deeper level. And after his death - he was most likely mourned in some way, but not necessarily missed by anyone and was quickly forgotten. Perhaps his parents remembered - but they too eventually moved on.

What leads me to believe that?

The most interesting thing about Astarion's final love declaration to Tav is that he says he feels "seen" with them. It's one of the most beautiful things we people can offer each other - the feeling of being "seen" and safe in that sight, understood, felt, valued. That can only happen when the other person knows us well enough to be aware of all the ugly qualities we possess, but is just as aware of our capability for all the good ones, and so, in the greater picture sees the better version of ourselves (sometimes even better than we ourselves can picture) and that vision, when truly caring for the other person, we trust and want to live up to. By seeing ourselves the way our loved one sees us, we allow ourselves to grow and be better.

I don't think Astarion ever had that kind of person. I don't believe that he ever, in his pre - vampiric life, experienced a kind of love and trust needed for such a feeling - being "seen", and wanting to be seen as someone good, worthy, valued. Even more - I don't think he ever had any kind of true friend or companion. And that kind of emptiness deeply cripples a person, no matter who they are.

The tragic thing is - Tav may not be the first person to show Astarion kindness and care after years of torment from Cazador, they may be the first selflessly caring and kind person in his entire life. Even if he doesn't remember anything about his previous life, emotionally, he doesn't even seem to recognise the feeling of being cared for, considered, valued, appreciated for who he is, he doesn't instinctively recognise emotional closeness of any kind. Tav may be his first ever true companion, confidant, someone he comes to value and trust enough, that he eventually wants to be the same for them - and be better himself.

Tav may just be the first person to be a selfless and genuinely healthy influence for him, the first person to call him out on shitty behaviour and challenge him, but also to the first one to care. Ever. The first person Astarion comes to care about. The person through whom he learns to care and value more, both others and himself. And the person through whom he learns to love.

I don't believe he ever loved before, nor was he truly loved in the first place. Maybe he never tried, maybe he never dared, maybe he didn't know how to, maybe no one taught him. Tav was the best thing to happen to him in both of his lives.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion analysis

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epiphyllous · 4 months

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when morning comes (Astarion/Reader) [1]

With your bleeding heart and altruistic bravery, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his best plan of action is to seduce you. All he has to do is not fall for you-- a feat easier said than done.

-or-

(Where were you ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he needed you? How dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

Word Count: ~10k Notes: Astarion/Reader, Paladin!Reader, AFAB, gender-neutral "you", a study in Astarion's romance route + added features, [switches to your POV], annoyance to lovers, fall first/fall harder, slight Lae'zel/Shadowheart, Wyll/Lae'zel, Halsin/Reader; may have some descriptors of my Tav but generally no specifics (let me have my brown eyes), NSFW contains Virgin!Reader, trauma related to Astarion's past [Part 2]

[Act I: Druid Groves]

From the start, you and Astarion chafed at each other's presence. Granted, he had threatened you at knife point, quick to suspect you were of the illithid colony, and you had responded in kind with a painful headbutt. But surprisingly enough, that had nearly no consequence to the relationship compared to the vastly different way the two of you engaged with the world.

"Do you always just... do things for other people for no reward?" Astarion asks you disdainfully when you promise Zevlor you would speak to Kagha. It's the third favor you've picked up in the last hour. "Seems very... inefficient."

"Yes?" You reply, confused as though he were the strange one. (In his humblest opinion, you're the lunatic who decides to help everyone who asks despite the arguably more pressing issue of their hostile parasite.) "I mean, helping them is going to help us in the long-run. We need information and supplies, and they have both of that."

A half-truth at best. Astarion has seen you soothe stray animals and children on the beaten road, help wayward allies, and offer up your amenities without hesitation. Helping others happens to align with your goal rather than the other way around. He feels his mouth twist in annoyance.

Astarion sniffs at your answer, and you give him the massive eye roll you habitually do every time the two of you argue. "Would it kill you to help them out a little?" You say, "It's not like it's completely out of our way to do it."

You make it sound so simple, he thinks bitterly. He glances at the sword at your hip and the shield on your back and wonders if you could ever understand how it feels to be powerless. It would explain your naivety, the way you cling onto doing the 'right' thing, your paladin vow to protect the weak no matter how foolhardy it may be.

(Where were you, he thinks, ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he was still surviving on the scraps of whatever Cazador decided to provide for him that night? Where were you when his cruel master carved into his skin, a painter on a screaming canvas? When he was buried underground, no longer alive but still living, until he clawed his way up with bloody hands, only to find out his body and soul belonged to another? When he was compelled by vampiric thrall to lead his first victim of thousands to their death?

And how dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

"It's a matter of principle, darling." Astarion simpers, "I, for one, am not the type to play hero."

He expects a sneer, the silent treatment-- those he knows easily how to respond to. The gauging look you give him, though, and a thin veneer of frustration just underneath before it dissipates gives him pause. "Well," you say mildly, "we can agree to disagree. You're coming along anyways so let's just get going, yeah?"

Astarion follows you then with no comeback in mind, only a question as to how far your patience can go.

It is with great hesitation and no small amount of begrudgement that Astarion admits he has never been one for planning. After all, why hope for a future that will never occur? What future does he have when every move he makes is in accordance to someone else's will, every decision made never his own?

When Astarion decided to travel with the unfortunate duo (now group) with similar illithid fates, he did not anticipate how difficult it would be to hide his affliction of a vampire. For the brief moment in the sun, he thought perhaps that because he was immune to daylight, his thirst for blood would have also disappeared. Imagine his surprise, nights after, when he finds himself starving and with no inconspicuous way to feed himself.

There is always someone on the lookout for goblins or other enemies alike. There have been few times he can sneak out without calling attention to himself, especially for such a long absence as hunting for prey would be. Astarion can feel himself grow weak over the course of a few days, and though he briefly thinks about telling you the truth about his identity, he is resistant.

Good heroes tend to hunt creatures of the night like him. Considering his blatant disregard for those you choose to protect, he isn't sure he will continue to be under your protection if he is outed. Astarion finds traveling as a pack to be too conveniently safe, but he is so, so hungry. In the midst of his hunger, anyone's blood will do, but it is yours that tempt him most: healthy, righteous, and pure-hearted. He has never been allowed to feed on a thinking creature, and at this point, he isn't sure if he should, considering the risks.

But Astarion is tempted by the smell of your blood shed during a particularly fierce battle, and as he feels his hands tremble, he concludes that he must find a way to feed tonight.

You always, without fail, set your tent up near the fire. It is where he finds himself creeping over your bedroll at the dead of night only to find that you have woken up to look up at him in shock. (He has never been one for planning.)

"...Shit," Astarion lets slip out, backing away. You stand at the ready, eyes boring into him as you come to the realization of what he is. "No, no- it's not what it looks like."

"...And what exactly is it supposed to look like then?" You ask tensely, and Astarion feels the situation quickly run away from him.

"I wasn't going to hurt you!” He puts his hands up and swallows. “I just needed, well, blood."

"You're the reason why that boar on the side of the road had no blood.” You realize, narrowing your eyes. "How many things have you hunted without us knowing?” You accuse, “People?"

"No!" Astarion exclaims, "No people. Never any people. I can sustain myself on animals, kobolds even-- but it is not enough. Not when we're fighting every day like this."

He sees a flicker of sympathy in your eyes and hope builds in his chest. "I feel so weak," he pleads. "If I just had a little bit of blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please."

You don't relax but you don't try to attack him either. Astarion considers that a winning chance. "Have you told anyone that you're a vampire?"

"They're more likely to ram a stake through my ribs than anything," Astarion mutters. "At best– even for you– you'd say no unless you trusted me." He looks up at you and sees the way your eyes look into him for the truth. "And you can trust me. I wouldn't want to harm anyone in this camp." And it is technically the truth, though Gale tests his patience sometimes. Even he cannot promise that he wouldn't betray everyone at the drop of the hat if the situation begs for it, but this is a completely different matter at the moment.

Your gaze is unfaltering, the silence palpable as the two of you look at each other. Astarion feels his palms sweat as he awaits your judgment and for the proverbial hammer to possibly fall on his head.

"Okay," you say instead. "Alright. I trust you. As long as you don't try biting me again without permission, it's fine. Can you promise me that at least?"

"Really?" Astarion knows this is what he could ever hope for, but a part of him is baffled that you would ever think to trust him. He supposes your foolhardy compassion has its benefits-- though he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit there was a part of him that was rather... flattered by your trust. "Yes- yes, of course. Thank you."

He presses his lips in thought. If you were so willing to put your faith in him, then perhaps it would not hurt to ask. "If I could ask you to trust me just a little further..." He says, "I just need a little blood. I won't take anything more than I need. Please."

Astarion can see the hesitation in your eyes when he asks. Are you weighing your trust in him, he wonders. Or are you worried about your safety, the benefits versus the risks? It would make sense-- you really shouldn't. But a moment before you respond, he somehow knows that you would.

[He looks so tired, you think, heart clenching with sympathy. You wonder how you've missed it for this long or if he's that good at pretending otherwise in the presence of others. It could be both-- Astarion has shown to be a great performer, and you are one of his best audiences. You find it difficult to argue against letting him bite you; the anticipated pain, the possible negative effect, the case that his hunger is too much for you to quench all pales in comparison to what good you would do for him.

You are halfway to being smitten already, and you cannot deny yourself this.

But you are not naive. You are not fearless. For whatever trust you give to Astarion, you are afraid of the fact that if he betrays you in this, you can never go back to how it was before.]

"Promise me you'll stop if I tell you to," you tell him quietly.

He acquiesces quickly. Of course, he will, he promises, only just enough. You lay back down at his suggestion, body tense in anticipation. He does not let that feeling linger too long, seizing his chance before you decide to change your mind. He buffets your body with his arms before he sinks his teeth into your outstretched neck.

You taste better than he could possibly have imagined.

To think he fed solely on mice before-- bog water in comparison to the sweet red of your blood, invigorating and undeniably delicious. Astarion gets another mouthful and groans, feeling strength return, warmth pooling into his belly. If bears and boars were the main course, then you are the mouth-salivating dessert– irresistibly delectable and leaving him wanting for more.

Your body trembles underneath him, your hand clenched into his shirt as a counterweight to the pain. Your pulse bounds underneath his tongue, the small gasps you cannot suppress resounds into his ears. This, too, puts feeding in a different plane than before, an extra level of appeal that can only be experienced with thinking creatures. Perhaps it is you in particular that adds another layer to the pleasure. Having you at his mercy, taking what you so graciously offered with ravenous hunger: power courses through him for more reasons than one.

[Your heart beats as fast as a rabbit's, fear and adrenaline powering you in the same manner. Or, if you were being honest, anticipation and a little bit of excitement fuels it as well as Astarion climbs on top of you, hunger in his eyes.

It is a more literal type of hunger, but it is an intense look either way that leaves you frozen like a deer in headlights.

The bite itself is more shocking than it is painful. You barely muffle your exclamation, unused to the feeling of someone so intimately close combined with the instinctive fear that accompanies the loss of blood. You hold onto Astarion without thought, and you squeeze your eyes and bite your lips as he takes your blood in with every suck.

As scared as you may be, you are undeniably aroused from the feeling of it all-- the numbness that gently overtakes your mind, the light, floaty feeling of pleasure of the bloodloss combined with the intimacy of someone you’ve always been attracted to. The knowledge that he is gorging himself on you, taking pleasure from you, makes your blood run hotter than it has any right to in this situation.

And then, you feel a switch flip, and the lightness becomes disorienting, and the numbness bleeds into coldness. Panic starts climbing up your throat. You let yourself think for the briefest moment if Astarion will let go on his own, but you know you will not last long enough to wait. Worry gnaws at you at this thought, and you can only hope that Astarion is true to his word when you tell him to stop.

And he does. Perhaps it is the feeling that you have placed your trust in the right person that has felt the best out of everything that has happened tonight.]

"Astarion-" he hears you grit out, "that's enough."

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course.” It takes but a moment for Astarion to register it before removing his fangs from your neck. He sees blood trickle from the punctures and he bemoans the waste as he pulls away. Next time– if there is a next time– he'll be neater, he thinks. He watches as you breathe just as hard as him, eyes slightly glazed over, and he barely resists the urge to lick his lips.

He stands from you to give you space, and you slowly sit up, looking at him with an emotion he can't quite place. It concerns him little at the moment with the strongest blood he's ever consumed in two millennia coursing through him.

“That was…” Astarion begins, breathless with adrenaline, “Amazing.” He delicately wipes the blood from the side of his mouth, an irrepressible smile on his face.

“Hope that helped,” you say, and he almost laughs at the understatement of two centuries.

“It very much did.” Astarion breathes in deeply. “My mind is finally clear. I feel… strong,” he nearly purrs. Happy.”

“Looking forward to seeing you fight then,” you say, hand at your neck as the punctures gradually close. You sigh, wiping your bloody hands onto the patch of grass. “Going out to hunt?” You ask like any other day.

“I am, darling.” He stands tall, head held high with a confidence he has not felt in ages. To think this is what he's been missing out on… “You're invigorating, but I'll need to get something more… filling,” he tells you, glancing back.

You give him a flippant wave of the hand, and he isn't sure if you are too tired to be wary of him or uncaring of the risk considering what you allowed him to do. “Good hunting,” you say genuinely before yawning.

“I will. And-” You turn to him then, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion but still alert. Astarion pauses for a moment. “This is a gift, you know,” he says. “I won't forget it.”

He walks off into the forest after and finds easy prey to feast on. It's a shame it does not taste as good as you did, but he will make do and ride out the feeling of power for as long as he can. It is when he returns to camp with you fast asleep by the fire that Astarion realizes the emotion on your face was relief: relief that he had stopped when you had asked, and that he kept to his word.

What a fragile thing trust is, to be put to the breaking point at a single moment in time. What if he had continued to consume and drink you dry? He suspects it would have rather dire consequences to your mortality and even worse effects to his relationship with you. It would be unsalvageable, he realizes, if he had not stopped when you had asked. For some things may be forgiven, but this would be reprehensible.

Astarion finds that he understands you too well for his liking. How many times has he not been able to give consent? Wanted to say 'no' but forced to say yes? (Not knowing now how to say 'no' at all?)

For the sake of his own livelihood (the camp would kill him for your death), his budding relations with you, and a part of him that yearns for what he should have had, Astarion is glad that he was not greedy tonight-- and, as the day comes, for the following nights to come.

The pitchforks and torches do not come the next morning. Maybe it is because everyone else has their equally dangerous secret to hide or because of your influence on the camp. You are more concerned at how you would help him feed than afraid that he will hurt anyone.

"Why, isn't it my favorite traveling companion," he says to you when you approach him.

"You mean tastiest,” you say back, and he knows you are truly well and beyond hard feelings if you can joke about it.

"Well, I suppose that as well.” He tells you, “Though you have been the only one I've bitten so there is no competition, really."

And to his surprise, telling you about Cazador, his ill-begot fate as a vampire spawn and its subsequent diet, is easier than he would have expected. You listen with a sympathetic but otherwise neutral ear that makes it easy for him– and he suspects everyone else– to confess their circumstances to you. He's rather surprised he's been able to “resist�� for this long. Even Gale has confessed he has a literal living bomb inside him in the little time they've all spent together as a group.

(It goes to show how much everyone has grown to trust you; even Astarion is starting to see what everyone else sees in you.)

“I don't mind you taking my blood once in a while,” you instruct him, “but you can't just do it to an innocent person.”

“And how about a guilty person?” Astarion asks slyly, gleefully watching as you saddle next to him with a similar smile.

“Free real estate, I suppose,” you say nonchalantly. “Just ask before you bite me?”

“No more late night surprises, you have my word on that.” He smiles, fangs bared, and you don't even blink at the sight of them.

In the druid grove, you pick up a few more favors from the locals, though at least you have begun to ask for aid for the road. Not exactly payment, though you are offered a reward anyways. Astarion thinks you are either very lucky people are desperate for help or very charming in that innocent, eager to do good type of way that compels people to be generous. It is not unlike Wyll, who joins your group of illithid-afflicted companions, as the Blade of Frontiers.

Naturally, the two of you get along as like-minded individuals. Gale, too, gravitates toward you for your compassion, and Shadowheart trusts you for perhaps the same reasons. Even Lae'zel, who you often have problems speaking to without feeling intimidated, has come to begrudgingly accept you as the de facto leader of the group. You are, as Astarion suspected, strong in battle as you are in personality.

He often forgets both, but he cannot be blamed. After he witnesses you stand up to Lae'zel for the sake of an intimidated tiefling, he sees you lose an argument against a squirrel. Astarion sees you send goblins off rooftops and speak to trolls with confidence, and then he watches as you ask him to unlock a barn door with raunchy sex noises simply out of morbid curiosity.

It is in these moments-- apart from your heroism and startling sense of morality-- that you and Astarion are often on the same page. As long as it is not from the needy, you don't find it a problem to loot. (He thinks practicality plays a role in disturbing dead bodies for money and items, and your vow says nothing against it.) If it's for the sake of peace, you don't mind spinning half-truths and lies. (The lies he personally thinks you need to work on more but he is a master of deception so perhaps there is no comparison with him.)

Your curiosity knows no bounds, and it is in this, both you and Astarion take cheerful glee in raking chaos.

"I don't know what I expected!" You say almost cheerily after the group defeats the unlikely couple of bugbear and ogre after purposely interrupting their very loud lovemaking.

Shadowheart gives you a raised eyebrow that has you sheepishly grin at her, and Astarion lets out a laugh. "Well, I certainly had a guess, but finding out was very interesting indeed."

"Interesting... is certainly a way to describe the scene we just witnessed," Gale says dryly. Astarion catches your eyes before you smile slyly.

Innocently, you comment, "I wonder how the mechanics worked with the height difference-"

Gleefully, Astarion is quick to join in, watching Gale balk at the topic, “Well, with the way she was on her knees-”

"Some things need not be pondered!"

That is when Astarion realizes that as long as the world stops begging for your help, the two of you get along quite well. If anything, Astarion finds your presence and comments most amusing out of everyone in camp. Gale is exceedingly verbose and other times awkward. Lae'zel Astarion isn't sure knows the meaning of joking, though her violent tendencies are right up his alley. Shadowheart-- as it turns out and makes total sense-- is a worshiper of Shar and therefore an automatic stick in the mud.

Wyll waxes far too much about justice, and Karlach, when they find her and proceed to not kill her despite Wyll's initial request, is the next best thing though he is still wary of how hot she burns. You, however, have the humor and wit to match every ridiculous situation they encounter, and if anything, Astarion must give you that. God knows how he'd survive the boredom of camp and not being arms deep in gore without having someone to gossip with.

The two of you agree the most when it comes to other topics, like Mystra's treatment of Gale, how good Wyll looks with horns, feelings about Gods. It makes for great and easy conversations though the two of you are also quick to snark if there is a disagreement. Astarion admits his words were sharp in the beginning (and you gave it right back until you just mellowed out) but he eventually relaxed when his role in camp solidified after his vampiric reveal.

And what a gift your blood was; Astarion counts his lucky stars that you continue to offer your neck to him as long as it is only yours he bites-- with permission, of course.

He was almost beginning to relax when a gur comes, asking for him.

Luckily enough, it seems this Gandrel has no idea what he looks like, so the two of you can play innocent together. You and Astarion give each other a discrete look before you go back to talking to the monster hunter. It must be Cazador, he seethes. Who else would put a Gur on his tracks acres away from Baldur's Gate?

"And what did you want to do with this vampire spawn?" You ask innocuously.

"I would like to capture him."

"Capture? Not kill? Does someone want him alive?" You question, and Astarion must give you this: you are an excellent conversationalist, to seek more without giving much at all. Your eyes widen in what can be assumed as surprise, though they remain calculating. "You said so yourself: even vampire spawn are dangerous. Why would you accept a job to capture him?"

The gur shuffles his feet for a moment, chewing on his words. Astarion watches in secretive awe as you urge the hunter to trust you with unbidden information. "Well... It's not a request from an outside source..." He trails off, "We... have questions we were hoping he would answer."

Now that's curious, Astarion thinks. What would a monster hunter need for a spawn besides its demise? He knows you have the same question when he glances over at you as you watch on thoughtfully.

"Were you hoping to capture it to get to the vampire lord or something?" You ask, "Is that something that would even work?"

"We have little leads besides this vampire spawn, if I can be frank." He sighs and Astarion watches as he unravels the truth before you. "It's our children, you see. They've been captured.”

You are ever sympathetic to the Gur's plight--genuinely so. You hold no qualms keeping Astarion's name from your mouth but you speak to the Gur and provide him with advice and information you have received from Astarion. What a cheeky pup you are, playing double agent without batting an eye. Astarion feels like forgiving you for taking away the opportunity to get rid of the monster hunter once and for all just for the show of your wit and guile.

Though Astarion thinks you could afford to be more ambitious. If you could have perhaps a little creativity in deciding what you want to do with the little tadpole in your brain or the absolutist cult, Astarion is sure the two of you would get along more.

"I don't know how the tadpole will change me," you admit with unexpected vulnerability. "I don't want to give them more power over me, and I don't know if feeding them will let them."

"Well..." Astarion pauses, scoffing at your response before he can accept the fact the two of you have more in common that he would rather believe. He'd rather not lose what he barely got back as well, he thinks. "I suppose there is reason to hesitate so maybe I'll wait until some other brave soul decides to give it a go." He gives you a look before continuing, "Try not to convince the others too much. I'm not too eager to be the first and only one to eat a tadpole."

You shrug noncommittally, promising nothing. Astarion barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. Paladins.

Considering the dire straits in which you are bound and the rocky start the two of you had, Astarion would not have imagined the relationship with you to progress in this manner. Having you trust him was already beyond what was expected, especially after revealing his vampiric origins. Giving him your blood was a gift that he could hardly believe happened. One can imagine his surprise when he finds out you are charmed by his wits, finding genuine joy in his wry commentary.

For god knows why, you have grown fond of him-- he can see it in the way you provide him with the best equipment, the way you seek his presence. The way you laugh freely around him and turn your back to him during battle, believing he will defend it. Though arriving at this point was coincidental, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his next step is to seduce you.

Astarion sees your laughter, but he also sees the way you throw him glances when you think the others aren't looking. You instinctively lean closer to him when he is near and when he speaks, your eyes are quick to find him. You are attracted to him– and he means to capitalize on it and make you feel as though you would rather die than have him get hurt.

It's a simple plan, really. The seduction comes easy; all he needs to do is stay unattached, so if things go wrong, he'll find someone else to take cover under.

(The plan should be simple-- he has learned tactics that would put any to their knees, tricked hundreds of people of his affections. But something about doing this to you-- this performance-- makes him uneasy.

It's a shame, he finds himself thinking. He thinks he was beginning to like you too.

The thought lingers only for a moment. He is quick to push it from his mind; that too is a learned habit.)

Astarion finds his opportunity after the goblin camp has been slain and the tieflings throw a celebration in thanks.

The wine is mediocre at best, but there is much of it to be shared, so the party is still in full blast when the moon is overhead. He finds himself a secluded part of camp to sip at the sorry excuse of a liquor, discomfited by the praise they give him for participating in the fight against the goblins.

You are unused to the praise as well, humble as you are, but you are nearly glowing from the joy you feel as you make merry with those you have befriended. The rest of the party, even companions who were ambivalent at best at the idea of helping the tiefling immigrants, are satisfied with the outcome despite the lack of progress with removing the tadpole. He would say otherwise– the trade of goblin lives for tieflings hardly makes a difference, and surely the goblins would throw a wilder party than this. He says as much to you when, faithfully, you find your way to him to talk.

“All I want,” he tells you, “is a little bit of fun. Is that so much to ask?”

You snort into your drink. “Knowing you, it could be.”

“Don't be so sour,” he croons. “I like a good time as much as anyone.” His eyes fall half-lidded as he looks at you. You raise your brow at him, noticing the change in tone as he continues. "You know, we could always make our own entertainment."

The look you give him is partly apprehensive and the other amused. He knows that glimmer of recognition of what he is asking, though you are quick to hide it for plausible deniability. "...What do you mean by that?"

Astarion, with practiced ease, leans in, watching as you instinctively do the same before he purrs out, "Why, sex, of course. Experiencing a little death, figuratively speaking, is quite fun, wouldn't you agree?"

Your face is already flushed from the alcohol, but your cheeks on high brighten in the dimly lit torches at his tent. It's evident you didn't expect him to suggest something like that, especially to you, though you are not completely unwilling if the lack of immediate denial is of any indication.

You are rendered speechless though; a first for you considering how quick you often are at retorting back at his comments. It makes Astarion think of two conclusions: you are either inexperienced or incredibly shocked at his offer. Both are familiar, though the thought of your naivety extending into sexual relations does, at the very least, give him pause.

It is not as if he has never been someone's first. Virgins are often most eager to lose or prove themselves in someone so willing to offer bliss. If you are one, well– the shy ones are always the ones that are easier to fell.

He prepares himself to drop a few one-liners to convince you to take the offer, but you glance away for a moment before you turn toward him, face unreadable.

"If you're down," you say. You smile. "I don't mind."

"Until later then," Astarion replies easily. "Wouldn't want the others to interrupt, unless you're interested in that."

At this, you laugh, and he relaxes. "Definitely not. Though, I'm curious." You ask, "Am I your first choice, or am I just the first to say 'yes'?"

Astarion finds the best lies are in truths. "Lae'zel was quite eager to find a partner earlier. Luckily she and Wyll are in quite the agreement for tonight as far as I can hear and I have no desire to get in between whatever the githyanki has in store." He smiles slyly at you. "Besides, I couldn't help but overhear you flirting with our druid earlier so I at least knew you were in the, ah, mood. Never imagined you'd be quite so bold."

"It's the alcohol," you mutter, rubbing your cheek. You take the wine from his hand and take another swig. "Also, I didn't realize he'd be coming with us so that was a surprise. Almost as much of a surprise as you asking me." You glance at him briefly. "Well, sort of."

Astarion feels a familiar prickle of suspicion as he stares at you, already unamused at whatever dirty truths you have prepared for him. "What is it now?"

You quip a half smile, eyes bright under the torch fire. (Your eyes are brown.) "Nothing," you say teasingly. "Guess you do like me a little bit."

Astarion watches as you walk away, feeling less victorious than he imagined himself to be.

The flirting, the seduction, the fight for survival is familiar. The banter, the bickering, the camaraderie between the two of you is beginning to be just as familiar. Astarion feels just the slightest bit unease at how true your words are.

Astarion has much to prepare for the night, so it is lucky that you take center stage of the party, as the savior of the grove. You take part in the merriment and make conversations, taking genuine interest in the stories others tell. The tieflings keep you busy for the most part, but Astarion is nothing if not good at building anticipation, putting as much heat into his gaze as possible when you do have time to take a glance at him.

You are quick to focus your attention elsewhere after giving him a look, but the smile on your face that stays means that at least he is always on your mind. In some ways, he has missed this... coyness, the thrill of the chase. The results of his previous endeavors never fail to unease him, but with you, it is different. The familiarity of seduction comes with a little bit more fun knowing you are not going to be his victim- not like it usually is.

"Hey, still not joining in on the fun?" You suddenly ask him, your hand gently prying at his arm so you can hook onto him. You have gotten more drunk in the time you were away, the warmth of your skin seeping into him from where you've attached yourself. Your face is almost comically red if not for the carefree smile on your face and the affection that betrays on your face when you look at him.

Something in his chest warms at the sight of you.

"Unfortunately, the tieflings' company has not become any more appealing since you've been gone. Besides," Astarion says slyly, "the only thing I've been thinking of is how you'll taste later when we're alone."

You let out a huff, turning your head away with a half-embarrassed and pleased smile. "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"

"Not at all," he replies easily. "It's the truth, after all."

You look at him as though you don't believe a word, but you are charmed by them anyway if your expression is of any indication. As conscientious as you normally are, the alcohol and the fact you are delving into his territory of seduction puts you at a disadvantage. Even if you are the one that knows him best in the camp, you are not attuned to every secret. Half-truths and lies come easier than anything else, if only because it allows him to keep his distance.

When the camp is cleared and you linger to bid the others farewell, Astarion slips away to the lake to prepare. It is almost ritualistic the way he cleans himself, the cold waters readying himself for what comes next. He thinks of what lines to tell you, how he should appear to you to best whet your appetite. Are you chaste or are you more animalistic? Would you prefer to take a dominant or submissive role? Astarion cannot tell these things about you based on his interactions with you, so he can only rely on his flexibility and years of experience to get him through it.

(For a brief moment, he wonders if this is something he must do. What if you would protect him regardless of how this night goes? You are compassionate, sympathetic to the plight of others-- goodness flows within your veins like the light that beacons from your holy sword. Could that light not shield him too, without his body as an offering?

But gods are rarely so magnanimous, no matter the sacrifices. Astarion will not take his chances even with you.

Even then-- even then, he wants this night to be at least a little enjoyable. It is with you, after all. If there is someone who can allow him to feel safe, it is you.)

Moonlight beams above, and Astarion hears your quiet footsteps come closer. His expression masks into something more suitable for seduction and he steps from the shadows of the trees to greet you.

Upon seeing him, you yelp in surprise and- god, can you blame him?- he jumps as well.

"What in God's name-"

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't expect to see you half naked all of a sudden!" You stammer, "I mean, not all of a sudden, I guess. Your... state of undress didn't cross my mind as something I'd see right away."

It is reckless when his mark is so close to fruition, but he finds himself dropping the act, hand at his hips in an instinctual indignant huff you seem to invoke from him easily. "Darling, what did you expect after the invitation I gave?" Your sheepish grin is your only answer, and Astarion feels a quick flash of annoyance at how easily you are able to derail his thoughts.

Quick to redirect the conversation though, Astarion angles his body sensually, lowering his voice in the manner he knows can send shivers down his victims. "Perhaps you'd prefer if you could strip me down yourself?"

Like clockwork, your cheeks flush pink even as you roll your eyes in attempts to salvage your embarrassment. "Only you'd be able to pull those lines out of nowhere," you mutter, and Astarion allows himself the satisfaction when you approach him, eyes looking down at him appreciatively.

Only a small gap lies between the two of you now, your dark eyes meeting his. You are waiting on him; Astarion does not hesitate.

He takes your face into his hands and brings his lips to yours. Your eyes close almost immediately to the touch as you give into him, face tilting up to align with him and mouth parted to allow him in. Though Astarion knows not how you incline to be normally, he knows that this night, he's the one in control.

Your hands curl into the front of his chest as though you do not know where to touch, so he helps you along and pulls you in until there is nothing separating you. Astarion can see the way your eyes widen when you can feel his arousal beneath his trousers, and recognizes your interest with the way your pupils darken your eyes.

There is a slight satisfaction in seeing you this way. As stubborn as you are, you are malleable in his touch, opening up to his hands like a flower in bloom. He lifts you up against the tree, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist in response, and your little giggle morphs into a gasp of pleasure when he grinds into you fully.

It is probably instinctual the way you arch your back and bare your neck to him. It isn't in him to resist the temptation to bury his nose into the crook, nipping at the sensitive skin between your collar bone. And this is when he feels your hands, that were curled into his hair, push him back slightly, and his stomach drops.

He should be worried that he made a mistake and think about how to put you back on track with him. His safety depends on his success, after all. Despite himself, Astarion feels more hurt at your rejection, your mistrust, than anything. (Since when did that ever matter to him?)

"I wasn't going to bite, you know," he says, hoping nothing in his voice gives anything away.

"No, that's not it," you tell him, and your hand is quick to cup his face reassuringly. He finds himself soothed by your gesture though he wishes he was not in need of it in the first place. "I trust you not to without my say. I mean, you probably could tonight if you wanted..." You trail off. "I just wanted to let you know something before we go any further."

The offer for blood pleases him more than it should, as does the affirmation of your trust. "Whatever you want to say, darling, I doubt it'll deter me from having my way with you tonight," Astarion says, eyes half-lidded and staying strong despite the undignified huff you give him.

"Well, alright," you say as you try to save face. You brush over his collarbone with your thumb as you think. You're nervous, he realizes, over whatever you have to say, and he can't begin to guess what you could possibly reveal that would be of such import to leave you in such a state. "I... have never-- this is my first time. Having sex," you say, and Astarion does his utmost not to show any semblance of surprise.

"I hope," you continue, "that's okay? You'll probably have to show me a lot of things but, you know..."

You are a virgin after all. Astarion had some thoughts on the matter but he never truly took stock in it considering how rare it is to save yourself for this long. You were modest but far from prude, and you had thoughts of debauchery like any other in the camp. But you are of untouched flesh. Inexperienced. And yet you accepted him to be your first?

You are not so unique that he has never bedded someone like you, but it does tweak his heart in a way it has not for a long while that you are giving yourself to him as a result of his seduction. You feel self conscious about this inexperience, and it would be easy to take advantage of that for his benefit. Typical, even.

The thought does not sit well with him.

"I know you wanted a fun night," you tell him, eyes downcast when he does not respond. "So I get it if you're not interested anymore since I'm probably going to be a lot of work-"

"And what’s to say we cannot have fun while discovering something new?" Astarion interrupts in a momentary panic. He's not on autopilot but he's not stopping the night from happening despite your deference- so what is he doing? "Darling, I'm rather concerned you want to spend your first night with a vampire-" He needs to get back on script.

He recites the words in his mind. Isn't this what you want? To lose yourself in me? And all he has to do is say it-

"No, that's not-" You talk back, frowning. "You being a vampire has nothing to do with it. When you asked, I said yes because I trust you, vampire or not."

To have and to hold, he thinks, and wonders how you have survived for so long being so willfully trusting when at times you should not. "Then trust me, darling," he says, heat building in his chest. He lifts you up again and growls. "Let's have some fun. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"If that's what you want," you breathe out, and Astarion claims your mouth with his own.

You let out a sigh when he begins to undress you, his dexterous hands easily removing every lace and button to leave you bare. You giggle into his kiss, and Astarion lets himself smile, being pulled along as you roll on top of him playfully, mischief in your eyes. You full on laugh when he rolls you back over, uncaring of the outdoors, bearing your neck for him to bite.

Astarion doesn't remember the last time he's had fun doing this. And it is fun- always has been with you, he realizes, a type of levity that he has not experienced with anyone else. He takes leisure in biting you, sucking a mouthful of blood that has him moaning into your neck as he rolls his hips into you. Your hand gently cards through his hair as he bites, and true to his word (only taking just enough), he pulls back with blood on his lips before swooping down to share in his bounty.

He cannot help but laugh when you stick out your tongue at him, nose wrinkling at the metallic taste of blood that is otherwise sweet to him. He pulls his remaining clothes off and smirks when he sees you follow the line of sight down to his hardened cock in compulsive curiosity.

"Like what you see, darling?"

You make a noncommittal hum as you sit up, quick as you are unbothered by your nakedness. "Can I?" You ask, gesturing toward him, and he would find it amusing for you to ask if not for how eagerly you grasp his member at his nod.

Astarion hisses in pleasure as you pump his cock, getting into an easy rhythm with your thumb sliding deliciously on the tip of it. He watches as you gather spit to smoothen the pace, hand delicately pushing your hair from your face, and feel arousal melt into his belly like molten lava.

"Why, it seems you have a little bit of experience in this matter, or are you just talented?" He asks and earns himself a coy look.

"Just twice," you say, twisting your hand in a way that has him rolling his hips. "Hold my hair, will you?"

Astarion is quick to follow your orders-- almost instinctively-- and before he has a moment to ponder on that, he is throwing his head back when your mouth swallows his cock in wetness and heat.

Most of his so-called lovers were more eager to be pleased than please; it makes sense that you would be different with the way you are. Your eagerness is quite adorable, as is your earnestness to provide him pleasure. Astarion revels in it, ecstasy climbing up like a tidal wave.

"That's enough, dear," Astarion purrs. He sees you look at him with a protest on your lips, and he continues, "I'd much rather continue this while I'm inside you."

Based on your expression, you are more than thrilled at the aspect.

Astarion guides you to lay down as he climbs over, hands carving a path over your curves and into your heat. He is careful to not scrape his fangs over your bosom, though he suspects you would not mind it in the least with how roughly he plays with your nipples to elicit a moan. You are dripping by the time he is done preparing you.

It does not take much resistance to enter you fully. You let out a short cry, reaching out to him instinctively for comfort as your body adapts to him. True to your words, you are tight beyond measure, squeezing his cock as though you are determined to milk him for what he's worth. You pant into his ears, hands grasping over his shoulders as you ease into the feeling of him.

The moment you nod, Astarion begins to move steadily. It is easy for the both of you to lose yourself in the pleasure, and it is these moments that he feels himself drift away, and the feeling of dread settles in.

Any type of intimacy takes him acres away, the gasps and moans that was music to his ears fading into numbness. He hardly knows what he's doing, except to know that he's doing well enough, hands playing at your clit as he moves at a persistent rhythm.

Astarion wishes it were different. Sex is fun, especially with you, if only it didn't make him feel as though he were fighting for his life. Every stroke calculated, every climax comes with a price. You are not to be taken back to Cazador, but it still feels like he's going to.

You tighten around him, and he knows you are about to come just as he is. He lets out a grunt and persists through a rapid pace before feeling your body jolt in pleasure. He soon follows after, head upon your shoulder as he shudders into his climax.

The night is still young; why don't we go back to my place for more?

Won't you come home with me? We need so much more time to get to know each other.

His next lines come too easily for him that it makes him sick.

A hand pulls at his cheek rather cheekily and Astarion finds himself coming back from the haze. He lifts his head to look at you, face relaxed from pleasure but still otherwise amused.

Is it ridiculous to think that the sight of you makes him feel safe?

"That," you begin, "was crazy. Sex is like that, huh?"

"Be welcomed to the land of the living, darling," Astarion says. "I fear you have been missing out on one of the finer parts of life."

"Well, it's not like I've never orgasmed before," you tell him, "but I guess it is pretty different with someone else." You sigh when Astarion removes himself from you. "Thank you for being so patient with me."

"No need to mention it, darling," he says, finding it easy to relax with the banter, "though I dare say it did not take very long for you to be prepared. Why, I'd even call that a record for getting as wet as you did-"

"Hey!" He avoids your playful slap with ease as you pout at him. "I... I have no comeback to that, except maybe you're welcome."

"I'm welcome? I should be the one saying that to you. I'm rather magical in bed, don't you think?"

"I don't know if your neck could support a head that big if I agree with you." You laugh, flipping your hair away again. For a moment, Astarion has the urge to take it upon himself to brush the stray strands from your face, but he does not. "By the way," you continue, "are you okay?"

Astarion blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you just seemed a little..." You stop before shaking your head. "No, never mind. You seemed a little far away but what would I know."

His heart lurches. "I had to make sure I didn't lose control," he says carefully. He clears his throat and goes for levity. "Who knows if your fragile, virgin body can handle it?"

Astarion is grateful you take the line for how it is, quick to come up with a haughty retort, the banter easy to fall back to. You are adamant on being sturdy enough and not one to waste a chance, he proposes a long night of lovemaking-- if only to cinch the deal with you. After all, he thinks as your legs close around his head, this is all part of his plan: seduce you and win your protection. Nothing more, nothing less.

He tries not to think how sex for once, as he nips playfully at your thigh, has been enjoyable.

The sun wakes him up before anything else. It is unfamiliar to him, even at least a month beyond the time when his deathly aversion to sunlight has disappeared. The warmth of the morning rays, the light that dawn brings-- Astarion did not realize how much he had missed it until he had felt it again.

He almost isn't sure if he can ever go back to never feeling it again.

He stands to bask in it fully, glancing over to his side to watch your sleeping figure for a moment. You are curled up in your own clothes-- and his shirt as well, he remembers, having a little play fight over it before you eventually let exhaustion take you. The ache in his body from last night is familiar at least, and he stares at you, waiting for the dread to come-- but it does not.

How curious. Only good for his plans if everything is more palatable, of course, but it is... unexpected for him to feel so at ease. He decides not to question it, using this moment of strangely acquired peace to face the sun in its entirety.

Your voice filters in after many minutes, a little scratchy from slumber. "You awake already?"

"It isn't exactly the break of dawn, dear," Astarion replies, and he shoots a glance back expecting your usual deadpan, but you are rubbing your eyes sleepily instead. A thought comes to mind that he has never seen you in your first waking moments: you are rather unguarded, movements leisurely and expression soft still. It's quite... cute. "I'm rather surprised you're awake. I thought you'd be exhausted from last night."

You let out a titter behind your hand at this. "Yeah, well, everything aches in different ways than a fight, so it's not too bad." You yawn. "Still sleepy though," you mumble, looking up at him through the gaps between your fingers as you block the sun from your eyes.

"Say," you begin, and Astarion realizes belatedly that the reason you were looking so intently at him was because you saw his back. "Can I ask about those markings on your back? Are they scars?"

"A poem from my old master," he replies facetiously. "Or so I assume. He carved it all into my back in one night." His lips purse. "He made a lot of revisions."

"I'm sorry," he hears you say with sympathy in your voice, and he knows he must quickly move on from this topic.

"It's fine," he says abruptly. "It doesn't matter now. I'm free and far from Baldur's Gate. And he'll never control me ever again."

"Good," you say, and he wonders if putting warmth into your words comes naturally to you.

"Yes, it is." He pauses. "May I have my shirt back? Not that I mind being half nude, by the way- if only to let everyone know exactly what went on last night."

"Don't even joke," you sputter, tossing his shirt- miraculously clean- to him. "I don't kiss and tell! And they'll definitely know, but not the details!”

In the morning glow, nothing much has changed. As predicted, the entire camp is in-the-know of whomever slept with who. Astarion is quick to inquire Lae'zel about her tryst with Wyll, only to find, to the mutual disappointment, that he spent most of the time talking about his feelings. Shadowheart, on the other hand, was more than happy to share her wine last night.

"Shadowheart mates like she fights," Lae'zel says. "Precisely and aggressively."

"Which is a good thing, I assume."

"Immensely." Lae'zel pauses then in breaking down her tent to look at him intently, which, for the githyanki, is as terrifying as anything. "I see you and our paladin decided to explore each other's bodies last night."

"Why, yes, thank you for noticing. It was quite the exploration," he responds, opening his mouth to elaborate.

"I suppose even you have your charms," she tells him instead, and the conversation ends there.

(Astarion hopes to glean more conversation elsewhere to no luck. Your talk with Shadowheart this morning is brief ("Lae'zel, huh."/"Astarion."/"Yep."), and Karlach's put-out expression is enough to give sympathy and a wide berth. Astarion sees Gale gazing upon the visage of his goddess again and turns the other way.)

The camp dynamic stays strangely the same. It is to Astarion's benefit, for he was comfortable with how the way things were, though he is more generous with the pet names for you. Halsin joins the fray, and they make their way to the mountains upon Lae'zel's insistence.

In the midst of adventure, Astarion finds that you seek his presence more often. His night invitation seemed to open an avenue up for you to be more comfortable in doing so. Astarion finds he doesn't mind it; your camaraderie is most enjoyable in the too quiet camp and as far as "seducing" goes, you are doing half the work for him.

Your gaze holds some heat for him once in a while when the moon is high and the fire burns low, but you have not asked him for another night. He is neither pleased nor displeased at the notion, because your affections for him are as clear as day. He knows you would say yes in a heartbeat if he did propose another night together, but he rather likes the late-night conversations he often has with you, a type of intimacy that borders on his comfort zone-- exciting and enjoyable without the unnecessary reminders of his past.

Still, he sometimes finds himself recalling his night with you fondly. It's strange: he's gotten on his back ten thousand times or more and forgotten half of them, but his time with you, he knows he will remember.

Astarion puts the thoughts of "why" (why you? Why are you different? What makes you special?) behind him for now. A treasure hunt for the Blood of Lathander (as if you needed to shine even brighter), a stolen githyanki egg (Lae'zel keeps it safe in her backpack), and an escape from a créche later, Astarion is more than happy to find refuge in the underdark, which proves to be more beautiful than any of them could imagine.

Something makes him look over to you then, and he watches as you take in the sights with wonder in your eyes, the gentle darkness cradling your face in its dreamy blue glow.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion/tav #astarion/reader #astarion bg3 #will there be a second part? who knows #i black out and suddenly there is 10k words

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