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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Xingqiu - Yandere Profile

I actually just got my sweet bookworm boi to his next to last ascension, my hydro baby, my angel, I love him even if bc of him I have to marathon fight the oceanid

I’ve had a lot of reqs for him & Chongyun dating back to January again lol but it only felt right to wait until I finished both so I could release them at the same time, so, Chongyun’s will be up immediately after this!

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TWs: fem reader, yandere, confinement, manipulative behaviors, mentions of homicide, gaslighting, Xingqiu being a spoiled arrogant brat

TWs (below cut): noncon/dubcon, manipulating and guilting reader into sex, overstimulation, fluids/cumplay, humiliation

Since there's no canonical age but he has a bit of the rounded young face I'm tagging with the sh*ta tw as well!

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Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 7 Brutality: 3 Physical capability: 4 Mental/emotional instability: 6 Restrictiveness: 7 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Tries to buy his way to you, initially. He's grown up seeing the power that money holds over people, and, well, his father can always just wave a bit around and get whatever he wants from most people, so why should you be any different? He goes for stereotypical "girl" things like flowers and jewelry at first, unless you have some prominent and well-known interest, in which case he'll invest in something related to that.

Honestly, for all his chivalry and all that, his maturity is something of a faux one, a sort of projected self-image of the gentlemanly figure he strives to be... but when he lets that slip, he can be something of a childish spoiled brat. The thing is... he's completely unaware and refuses to acknowledge that he can be so immature. He likes getting what he wants, when he wants it, exactly how he wants it, and being denied the things he wants isn't particularly common in his life. So rejection comes not so much as a disappointment so much as a shock. No matter, you're just... a brat, yourself. You think you're too good for everyone, he reasons, so you play hard to get.

Really, after recovering from the initial shock, he realizes he likes things this way. He likes challenges. It would be no fun if you came to him easily. You may be a brat, but in the end, the one thing he refuses to ever do is lose. Chivalrous gentlemen are fine with having to earn their things, so really, he's thankful that you reminded him of his morals, of his desire to truly earn the things he wants. It will make it that much more meaningful.

So he goes heavy on the idea of "courting", following whatever old and prudish traditions may exist in Liyue. If you're from somewhere else, he figures, that could be why -- clearly he hasn't followed through on whatever is normal for your culture. Silly him. He makes an effort to research whatever those traditions may be, and goes to the absolute maximum on performing them. Lavishes you in gifts of all kinds, constantly giving you compliments. He even goes to the effort of, if all else fails, reading romance novels targeted at women to get a better grasp of what exactly you're supposed to like, and emulates those behaviors.

Overall, though, in later stages Xingqiu slightly more mild for a yan, allowing you to have interactions with others (even if he’s irritated), such as his family, family servants, and his friends, and will even take you outside now and then. However, he will cut off your ties to those friends you had before that weren't mutual friends. He's also one of the least likely yanderes to ever kill someone, and will avoid hurting people if possible -- if anything, he prefers more discreet methods like ruining their life socially or financially.

He's also a lot more moody behind closed doors than he is to most people. His attempts to be oh-so-mature eventually kinda crumble, and the more comfortable he becomes around you, the more he lets his immaturity show.

He could assign family servants to looking for you, but really, he prefers to do it himself, this is about love after all, he doesn't want to assign them to a task they would never perform as diligently as he could. But rather than stalking, he chooses to just kind of... stay with you. He's somehow always where you are, "coincidentally" running into you everywhere and then somehow nothing having anything to do, because he clings to you for hours until you finally have to go home, and even then, he'll just follow you to continue the visit there if he can. No point in watching from a distance when he can be right there with you. And again, he's actually surprisingly unaware that his clinginess is so obvious, he's oblivious to how obvious his infatuation is. Which is a bit odd, considering that he's usually fairly perceptive, but he's so confident in the fact that he is normally perceptive that he allows himself to slip into abnormal behaviors without really realizing it, because he's not constantly on guard in the way some less socially adept yanderes are.

On a genuinely sweet level, there's one little thing he keeps hidden from you. He's actually written a lot of love poetry for you, verses about you and all of the things he loves about you so much... Despite usually being fairly confident in his work, he can't bring himself to show it to you. He's too flustered. And considering your negative reactions to his affection (read: not wanting to be kept like a captive animal), he is actually a bit sensitive to that perceived rejection, which further discourages him. He keeps them all stashed away, stuffed into some fairly hidden drawer. Should you ever come across them and bring them up, it's one of a very few things that will genuinely make him super embarrassed, and he'll just insist they weren't about you, even though the details make it obvious they were, and storm off, never bringing it up again.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It's not kidnapping. It's... relocating. He's far too chivalrous to resort to something so brutish as kidnapping! He'll make sure you want to come with him. He can easily arrange for there to be rumors and reports of... occurrences near your home. Criminal activity, maybe false rumors of mysterious disappearances. Hell, he'll get Chongyun to testify that your house has demonic spirits in it. Something to make you want to move out. Maybe some things start happening to you -- you get the feeling you're being watched, you get threatening messages mailed to your home, you have strangers (read: randos who will do anything for some mora he gives them) telling you you're not welcome in the area and to get out. It's all incredibly confusing and scary and you have no idea what brought it all on!

Luckily for you, you have a rich, generous friend who makes it more than clear you're welcome to come stay with him for a while at any time. Eventually, no matter what it takes, he can push you to a point where you'll take him up on that offer. Something feels... oddly ominous about the way the gates to his family estate close behind you once you walk in. Like they're sealing your fate.

And once step one is done, step two of his plan goes into place - make sure you never want to leave. He can make that happen, there's plenty of space here for you to roam, plenty for you to do, and even when he's not there to entertain you, there's plenty of servants to keep an eye on you and make sure that whenever you try to leave, they'll smile and tell you you can't go just yet miss, there's this or that going on tonight! The young master said he had something important for you when he gets back later! You can't go out now, there was just an attack by some deranged person in the town still on the loose! Just... go back inside for now.

Of course, it's wishful thinking, but he likes to maintain the delusion that he can just keep this going indefinitely, that you won't finally one day put your foot down and tell him you've been stuck here nearly a month and you're ready to at least go visit home. He might even entertain it a bit - sure, you can go visit your old house with him and collect some of your old things to bring back with you, but he makes sure to make it look at though whatever problem he made up is still occurring. Nonetheless, if you're insistent, or at whatever point you finally crack and catch on, demand to know what's going on - well, it's not pretty. He gets into something of a tantrum if you don't comply, but ultimately, in his own little huffy, ticked off way, says you can't leave, and that's that, no more questions allowed, and no more of this ridiculous demand to leave. Of course, darling is taken aback at first, even thinking he's joking, but it soon becomes very clear he's completely serious, and intends to enforce that command.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

When he's with you, he's tends to be pretty clingy, both physically and in conversation, never ceasing talking about this or that, and he's actually a sleep-clinger as well, keeping an iron grip around your waist when you sleep. So, whenever he's at his home, he insists on you being in his presence, usually physically touching, so you won't really get an opportunity while he's just in another room or something because you can't get any privacy to begin with. When you're in public, he's incredibly watchful over your every move and incredibly clingy then as well, so don't expect such a chance to arrive either.

Thus, your best bet is to try when you're under the watch of guards, whenever he's gone for whatever reason. They've been instructed to watch you from a distance, you see, he doesn't want them interacting with you directly, so you'll have a few chances here or there where they get distracted or their backs are turned. There will likely eventually also be a time where there's a scheduling error, you end up unsupervised! However, physically getting out of the estate is still difficult. There's still posted guards everywhere. So all in all, it's fairly difficult, especially in broad daylight, the only time he's not with you.

When you're inevitably dragged back kicking and screaming by some poor guards that aren't getting paid enough to deal with this, after getting back and hearing the report he deals with it in that unnerving saccharine way of feigning ignorance to try and get a reaction. Now, he knows you weren't trying to get out... right? Surely you got distracted by a bird or something, right? That's the only reason why you'd ever try to leave, right? It's obvious he knows better, and is just fucking with your head, but it's best not to lie. What he wants is an admittance of guilt and an apology, preferably down on the floor begging for forgiveness.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Moderate, leaning towards difficult. He's perceptive, and intelligent, but that intelligence is largely a sort of book-smarts type of intelligence. He's generally crafty and a prankster himself, so pulling things over on him is difficult because he's familiar with the mindset and methods of doing so, but he can be tricked if you put on a believable enough act. Basically, a darling who is a good actor stands a much better chance.

However, he's ultimately a learner. You can get away with some tricks or plots once, but he won't fall for the same thing twice. Any sort of escape or deceit you've tried once, he'll make active efforts to guard against and prevent in the future.

Manipulation, though, you can forget it. He's way too proud and stubborn to be emotionally manipulated, in the end getting his way and what he wants takes priority over making you happy, so don't expect to be able to manipulate him based on the notion of something making you happier.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Fairly lenient, actually. You get a lot of access so long as your behavior is good, so really it's wise to be on your best behavior in the long term of things. He can get you anything you want, especially reading material. And you actually get to go outside, yay! He's like my earlier Childe profile on that -- he likes to go on dates, and he's actually really enthusiastic about it! He's big on date planning, wanting to see everything there is to see and do everything there is to do together. The rules are that you just need to be physically attached to him in some way -- you can hold his hand, grab at his sleeves, or he can do so to you (although he'd prefer you cling to him. He likes the image it projects to people around you). He actually gets really hyped about said dates whenever you plan them, he'll talk to you for hours plotting out all the things to do on this particular outing. At one point, his smile drops and his voice goes low and he tells you that, just a reminder, you know the rules for dates, right? ...Good.

Similarly, if you ask, he'll let you accompany him on more trivial outings as well, say if you'd like to go grocery shopping, and he certainly won't turn down a trip to the bookstore. The same rules apply, although he's a bit less excited for something so mundane.

One thing he won't do, surprisingly, is let you have anything to do with Guhua arts or skills. He won't teach you anything he knows nor let you learn, and if you were a follower of it before, he'll cut off your access to any material. His reasoning is that he just doesn't really think anything to do with combat suits you. You're better off learning more passive skills and hobbies.

In reality? He can't stand the thought of you ever being able to present a challenge to him in that sense. It would kill his ego if you ever managed to do something related to the Guhua arts better than he can, or even half as good as he can.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Well, to occupy your time, he has things that need cleaning you know... Honestly, he's messy, and he's already used to having maids, so he kinda treats you like one to some degree. Of course, he's active in his little heroism adventures, but when it comes to his own living spaces and such things he can be a bit lazy. So, he'll give you tasks to do sometimes, he likes the power rush too that he gets from ordering you around a bit. It soothes the ego.

Outside of your strolls together, you can't be going outside (and you don't get to choose when you do go on your little walks and dates, he does, although he may grant you the wishes of your begging). Also, don't actually try to talk to the guards. They're there to watch you, nothing more, so pay them no mind, and by no means should you ever have a reason to make conversation with them. If there's an emergency or something you need, you may inform them and get help, nothing more. And really, they're more afraid of this rule than you are -- you'll have difficulty finding one even willing to talk to you, they all take the warnings they've been given very seriously.

He eventually gets nitpicky and makes all sorts of little behavioral rules, it's incredibly obnoxious. But honestly, suffering his bratty tantrums is enough of a punishment, even if he didn't usually follow it up with actual punishment, which, for him, tends to be something perverted in some way.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

He actually gets jealous rather easily, often over people who are no real threat. You can never be too nice to anyone -- even after he introduces you to his father and older brother, he expects you to be happy to meet them... but not that much. If you show too much excitement or happiness over any other being, he gets pouty, especially other men, but also your friends, male or female, family, even animals. His first reaction isn't to kill, rather, just an increase in isolation. Drag you back home and make sure you get a lot of time to yourselves, seeks reassurance that you really love him. If it's his own family, he might get grouchy towards them, snap at them a bit, bitterly drag you back off to your own room, where he'll then proceed to get equally grouchy towards you until you have given him enough reassurance he deems sufficient. In his own time, when you're not around, he makes sure to make it perfectly clear to those around him that they aren't to get in between you two.

He's one of the better yans to have in this regard, though, because he's unlikely to resort to killing anyone. He's got too much of his self-image invested in the idea of morals and justice to be able to do so, he can't delude himself into believing it's right or acceptable. It's not impossible to push him to that point, but it wouldn't just be someone you show any positive reception towards -- if Xingqiu did end up killing a rival, it would have to be one for whom you have very blatantly made clear you have actual romantic and sexual affection, someone who poses a genuine, real threat.

Xingqiu is a sort of open book when it comes to jealousy -- it's obvious to everyone around you that he's mad at someone else for even looking at you, and he doesn't try to hide it. It makes him that much angrier if someone doesn't obey his silent demand to stop interacting with you, doesn't seem fazed by his glares and coldness. He'll meet with them privately and make things clear verbally, since he tells himself maybe they're just dense and too stupid to understand. But they only get one more chance. Cross him twice, and they'll likely find themselves in financial ruin after pulling some strings through the connections of his father and brother.

What would make him significantly more likely to kill someone is someone who poses a legal threat, someone who catches on to what's going on and threatens to get him in serious trouble for it. Even if he tried bribing them, well, they'd likely just pretend to accept, and someone so bold likely wouldn't bow to threats.

This is where he can slip into the mindset of a delusional yandere. He once again projects the image in his head, that knight he wants to be for you, and hey, sometimes to save the princess, the heroes in his martial arts epics have to get their hands dirty, have to unfortunately get blood on their hands for the sake of the greater good. And hey, then it's usually called character development. Most of his fictional heroes tend to have killed at least one person in a sort of epic battle to defend something precious to them. This is no different. Of course, ambushing an unarmed person and running them through hardly counts as an epic battle, but he doesn't really take that part into account.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

Again, a bit of a spoiled brat at times. He's pouty, gives you the cold shoulder, yet dramatically inserts himself in front of you and whatever you're occupied with so you can't do anything. Basically he's forcing you to acknowledge his pouting and ask him what's wrong so that he can pull the "oh, nothing" until you ask again, and maybe he'll eventually bitterly, passive-aggressively make it clear what you did wrong. The bright side is he's easily soothed - an apology and some groveling will fix his attitude pretty quickly, although he'll have an infuriating air of superiority about it all, telling you he's glad you were able to understand what you did and have, hopefully, learned to correct the behavior in the future.

Worse offenses, things that make him genuinely and truly infuriated, are significantly worse, but rather uncharacteristically for him, he's quiet. And that's what's do frightening about it - for once you almost wish he would blabber or complain or whine like you're so used to, but his fury is dead silent. He moves without speaking, harsh motions that will either shove or tug you to wherever he's trying to maneuver you, and he shows how he feels through actions rather than words - he slams doors and objects, stomps, everything about his body language is frightening enough to make you stiffen and jolt.

Thankfully, Xingqiu is a milder yandere when it comes to severity of things he'll do to you in moments of anger -- he's one that can control himself well enough not to severely hurt you, break bones or anything like that. When it comes to his flashes of anger, at worst he might slap you in his tantrums, but he has at least enough self-control and empathy for you to manage better than a lot of yanderes.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Below. It's mostly that he thinks rather highly of himself - he's an important person you know. He saves people, he goes around doing his little vigilante thing, and he's not afraid to flaunt sometimes.

If you happen to also be from a rich family, you can earn a little bit more respect from him, you're cultured and sophisticated. If you're intelligent, you can get some validity in his mind as well. He'll still consider himself more intelligent and higher status, something you'd be mindful to remember, but he'll begrudgingly acknowledge it.

A commoner darling, though? God forbid an airheaded one? Forget about getting any respect - you're more like... A cute little puppy to him. Dumb and loud and clumsy, but nonetheless very cute and loveable. You were just... Made to be something of an accessory to him. And he loves and values you, you mean the world to him really, but that's all the more reason why you should accept your place as such.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

It drives him up the wall. You know, his father could arrange his marriage to a ton of young rich daughters in Liyue who would be more than happy about it, but he can't get the attention of ONE girl he likes? It's infuriating. And it makes him all the more insistent to have specifically you.

For Xingqiu, it's a mix of both desperation and a pride thing as well. One one hand he desperately does truly want his feelings to be returned, he wants you to love him, he wants the fantasy he has in his head of you two having a long, happy future together. On the other hand, rejection is also a mark on his pride, and that irritates him beyond comprehension.

So don't expect him to ever give up, really. Unlike a lot of loving yans though, he doesn't blame himself, he directs the rejection hurt outward - maybe you're just so spoiled yourself that nothing is good enough for you. Maybe you're just playing hard to get. Maybe you just think constantly turning him down is funny, it's amusing to you, and, well, he doesn't take lightly to you trying to play games with him. So while he'll continue to try and earn your love, don't be surprised if it results in an irritated mood swing every now and then.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

A lack of desire/hesitancy to resort to violence or more morally wayward methods. He stakes a lot of his pride and self-image on being a chivalrous, upright, just person, someone who should exemplify right and punish wrong, and unfortunately for him he's not a delusional and can't convince himself that he's doing the right thing. He wants to be a gentleman, your knight in shining armor, the storybook hero he projects in his head that always comes to save his princess, who in turn is receptive and showers him in praise and affection and gratitude. You're the problem, you see, you're not following through on your role in all this.

As such, he really, really hates having to dirty his hands in any way, or do anything that he knows is wrong and will consequently drag him into guilt. Not that he can't be driven to it, because he certainly can, but if it reaches that point, that means you didn't cooperate with him to begin with, which would have made things so much easier, so he'll definitely rid himself of that guilt by redirecting the blame to you, or deluding himself into some bizarre justification.

Another thing... his family's compliance. Honestly? His dad is far too busy and far too done with Xingqiu's shit to expect any help from him. His son tends to be picky, whiny, and demanding -- now that you're here, he's finally satiated, finally actually paying attention to the important matters his father wants him to be involved with, finally not causing nearly as much trouble now that you're around. You can bet he's more than happy to put in some extra funds and personnel to restrain some random commoner, so long as his son is satisfied. His brother doesn't really agree with it all, but his brother wants this and his father is supporting it, so... his hands are tied. He turns a blind eye. And the staff, the servants? They're getting paid far too much to care, and besides, the family is incredibly influential -- should they get fired, it could smear their reputation. It’s kinda really discouraging, being surrounded by so many people, but none of them willing to help you.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Bounces back and forth. On one hand, he wants to maintain, again, a gentlemanly and sophisticated image, and in his mind, such people don't normally think about such things, don't behave in lewd or degenerate ways. On the other hand, he's a nasty little perv that secretly sinks to the absolute depths of depravity. There's not much he can't get off to. If his poor brother hadn't been so busy being concerned about the martial arts books under his bed, and had dug further, he would have found that those books are actually just a cover-up for a different set of nasty, gross materials he's spent years accumulating -- some of the most vulgar smut you've ever seen, stuff you question how he ever even got ahold of. Surely the book house wouldn't sell this kind of material... it's honestly a mystery how he manages to get so much.

With his first few interactions, he tends to display the former image, but the more time he spends with anyone, the more that inner little pervert side tends to come out. He's definitely one to get touchy, his light grazing little touches become firmer and more daring, his hands always rest just at a point that's right on the boundary of being inappropriate. Sometimes he'll straight-up grope you and pass it off as teasing. He's also like Kaeya in that he intentionally tries to embarrass you by making your mind go to lewd places, making obvious innuendos and euphemisms, then pretending like he doesn't know why you're looking at him like that... oh, is that what you thought he meant? Wow, you must have such a dirty mind, you little pervert.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Something like rape is barbaric! Of course he would never, eeeeever do something so awful, so unbecoming of someone like him. And he really never will. He's another yan that will simply... Secure your consent by whatever means necessary.

In the end he'll most likely guilt trip and gaslight his way into it. I mean, you're staying with him for free, he took you in, he feeds you and clothes you and you can't show one little bit of gratitude? He treats you like a wife and you can't fulfil your end of that role? Don't be selfish. He loves you so much... He'd do anything for you... don't you want him to be happy too?

He'll try different approaches. If seduction doesn't work off the bat, he'll try gaslighting, if that doesn't work, he'll try guilt tripping, if that doesn't work, he'll make up a bizarre lie - he has to have sex or he'll die, somehow! You get the idea. If you really, really, really push it, he may just resort to a vague threat of sorts - nothing too bad or deadly, but hey, it would sure be a shame if this recent market crash affected your family financially... Not that he knows anyone who has power over the local commerce or anything.

With a more timid, soft darling, you're likely to end up essentially... Dubcon'ed. Half-noncon'ed. He just kinda... Slowly goes for it, and at your protests insists no, it's ok, you'll feel good... And a timid darling too afraid to stop him doesn't exactly fight back or resist, so hey, silence is a green light.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Experimentation

As I've said, he's a nasty little perv deep down, and he can get off to, well, a LOT of things. And he loves to try new things out, no matter how weird it may be. He's one you can get into a lot of things involving toys and objects, or physical forms of things applied to the body (think temperature play, hot wax, nipple clamps -- anything that has to do with objects being used on you). Part of the fun of it all is having something new that he's never tried before! Even if it turns out to not be his favorite thing, he'll still enjoy the trying it out, and those things he DOES find himself liking, well, he'll just have to add them to the little mental list of favorites.

And he, honestly, enjoys the little reactions you often have to the notions of this or that -- the shock and sudden fear on your face when he tells you today you'll do this or that, and how you shake your cute little head so rapidly. It's not that bad, he promises, and he's done a lot of research and reading to be sure he does things correctly, so no worries!

Body writing

It's kinda comical because you can't make out a word. With his canonically horrendous handwriting, but fondness for the act of writing, it makes for what essentially looks to you like abstract art on your body -- but just know it's the lewdest, most degrading shit you can think of that he'll get all over your thighs and stomach, marking you as his. If nothing else, he gets off to it, and based on the little things he whispers in your ear, you know it's the same sort of humiliating things. If he takes his time, he can write better, but he gets caught up in the heat of the moment.

Lingerie

He's a fan of lacey, frilly things. And he will definitely invest in as many as he can buy, ornate and intricate things, stockings for your legs that have pretty lace patterns at the top of the thigh, bras and panties that are somehow both lacey and perfectly see-through. He's also a big fan of things that have holes in them for easy access, so you can wear it the whole time. And, if he's feeling meaner, he'll definitely have you walk around in just that for a while -- not out where anyone else in the estate could see you, of course, but in his room with him.

Master/slave

He's not a sadist per se, and doesn't really put you in pain, but he loves your submission. And no better way to exemplify submission than with service. The little bastard already makes you act like a maid outside of bed, but now he likes it even more -- there's a certain rush of power to laying out a command and seeing you follow it. Not to mention the cute look on your warm face as you follow though with the degrading shit. Oh, and you'd better believe he gets humiliating. It's not necessarily degrading in the sense that he says or makes you say bad things about yourself, but rather, just the commands themselves, getting on your hands and knees and crawling over to him, and demanding you slowly strip down. Make it cute, give him a show, you know? He won't be cruel in the things he says about you, yet your pride is still wrecked by the end of it all.

Voyeurism/masturbation instruction

He loves to watch you get off, honestly. It ties into the slave thing to a degree, making you follow every little command, telling you exactly how to touch yourself and move your hands. He'll sigh and tell you no, you're going to fast, you can't do it that fast yet... and if you get too overexcited, he'll just have to make you stop, since you can't seem to listen, and maybe not get to cum until tomorrow, so you can learn to behave better about it next time.

Fluids/Cumplay

He has something of a fixation with all kinds. He loves seeing the trail of saliva from your mouth when you pull off his dick, the way cum drips out of you and runs down your thighs. He also likes seeing it splattered across your face, your chest, in your hair, something about the sight of it nearly has him hard immediately after and ready to go. But he also likes how it will gross you out, leaving you tied up so that you can't wipe it off, are forced to just stay there with it dripping out of your holes and down your skin in a way that makes you shiver. And, really, he loves your fluids too, sweet salty slick that's just so mesmerizing to watch coat his fingers and face. But his favorite thing, probably has to be running his fingers through your own juices and slick, collecting it on his fingers, holding it up to your mouth and telling you to suck them clean. Somehow, it's even hotter when you're licking your own fluids off of his fingers, although you doing so with his is certainly nice too.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’d like an heir one day. He's one to want a kid, maybe two, but not a whole lot. Just enough to have a proper family structure, much like the family he was raised in. It's the proper thing to do, he thinks, a natural part of the social order and continuation of a legacy. As a natural extension of his spoiled brat tendencies, he often doesn't think very responsibly in regards to preventing children, so, lucky for him, that ideal will likely come to fruition eventually, if physically possible.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Absolutely uses overstimulation. Whatever sorts of toys exist in Teyvat, he's rich enough that he can easily obtain them - little things he can attach to you and leave buzzing, or thick plugs and internal toys to stuff you full and leave you there to suffer in stimulation and stretching for hours on end. And he doesn't leave you alone, no, he stays close by, leaving you tied up and blindfolded, the occasionally lazy checkup of "oh, how are you holding up over there? I almost totally forgot you were there!" in a mocking tone while he goes about reading his books or practicing or jerking off to the sight.

Also ruined orgasms. Ugh, he's the worst. Gets you right to your peak, likely also after hours of edging, and then just... stops. Right as you reach the high, stops all motion, leaves you whimpering and sobbing, it's literally painful to actually reach it, and then still have that orgasm taken from you. And he'll be sure to remind you that if you were good, you could experience it in full, he could make you feel so good and let you ride out that high... but so long as you insist on being such a stubborn little princess, unfortunately, he can't just give you that. He hates this too, you know, he says. He'd love nothing more than to share pleasure, but you insist on being difficult.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Legs and thighs. He likes the aesthetics of legs, the softness, the way the flesh feels in his hands. The way touching them can make you jolt, the sensitivity, the way they leave little marks so perfectly if he sucks and bites at the skin. It's just really pretty.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere xingqiu #yandere x y/n #tw: noncon #tw: dark content #tw:shota

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heniareth · 3 years

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I was really curious about what your opinions on the DAO companions are :) I know we have talked about some, but I'd love to hear more and about the others as well :D I hope it's ok to pose this as an ask :)

Sure! That sounds like a ton of fun. This might be a long one tho. Mind you, this is not the finished version of the answer. I'd like to link stuff and add a cut, but rn that's not possible. I'll update it when I can.

Edit: I have updated it ^^

Let's go alphabetically bc why not.

Alistair:

Sweet guy. So sweet. There was a moment when I was hard pressed chosing between him and Zevran (alas, Zevran won). Also, he's weirdly tall according to the wiki? How did I not notice that before?

Let's get a bit more serious now, Alistair is a great guy. The only reason he's not the hero of the story is because he doesn't want to. He has all the qualities of a leader: he's good at dealing with conflict (as evident with the conversation with the mage at the beginning. He gets where he wants to get without antagonizing the mage, but without allowing him to trample all over him). He's a solid tactitian and knows how to make allies (he suggests to use the Grey Warden treaties, after all). I bet if he was in the leadership position, he'd even not bicker with Morrigan. His moral code is pretty tight; some might say too tight, but I think it's less about the moral code and more about learning to judge people by their actions, not by the labels they fit into (Morrigan is a proud apostate and therefore bad. Wynne is a humble circle mage and therefore good). He also has a bit of a black-and-white way of seeing the world. I empathize a lot with Alistair, especially with his experience with the Chantry and his subsequent reluctance to deal with it. I really wish I had gotten to know more about concrete experiences he had during his training as templar, but he seems reluctant to talk about it (gee, I wonder why).

Since I've only played the game once, I haven't really picked up on Arl Eamon's abuse towards him, which apparently exists (Isolde, however... I mean, even if he were Eamon's illegitimate son, he's a kid, ma'am, he didn't exactly get to chose his parents. So that's so not okay). Alistair's way of speaking about them both, however, is either sign that he has not come within a hundred miles of acknowledging how much it hurt him, or that he's already gone through the whole process and has decided to forgive them. The latter shows a very strong character; yes, he relies on the approval and leadership of others, he has his issues, but he's already started working on them.

That being said, irl Alistair would be like a little brother to me. I'd tease him relentlessly (all in good fun and I promise to stop if it makes him uncomfortable, but he's just so teasable). I still wish the videogame gave him the chance to take important decisions for himself. But that, of course, would somewhat defeat the point of the game.

Leliana:

Another sweet, sweet person. Her singing voice is amazing. Her belief in the Maker inspires me (I'm a religious person and seeing religious characters represented in a positive light is Very Cool. It's also sometimes a source of discomfort, because the Church has done a lot of very messed up stuff and positive representation can sometimes veer into apologetics for things that should not be excused, but that's a whole other can of worms. The bottom line is that religious characters sometimes work for me and other times don't and Leliana works for me very much bc she's an outsider inside the Chantry).

Leliana is best friend material, tbh. I'd love to get to know her irl, discuss theology and philosophy and maybe even politics? She makes mistakes and has prejudices, but, tbh, so do I. And I do get the feeling that she tries her best to learn. From the times she intervenes in a conversation between the Warden and an NPC, she shows herself to be compassionate and open to the needs of others. What I get from her character is that she genuinely wants to help, which is something that I adore of her. I suspect that she sometimes has a hard time deciding wether she's a good person or not. She has killed and seduced and worked for a morally dubious person, and she doesn't show the same nonchalance about it as Zevran (though they both do discuss their line of work in very... professional terms). This is, however, more of a headcanon than actual factual canon.

I also very much enjoy her girly side, like her interest in shoes and dresses. She's one badass woman who also looses her cool about the latest fashions in Val Royeaux. I like that. Between her and Alistair, a non human noble Warden has as good a help to navigate the Fereldan court as they're going to get. Leliana is also, I can't forget that, clever and insightful. It'd be easy to write her off as the innocent chantry girl, but she's so much more than that. Her kindness is paired with foresight, I think. She knows that taking on the trouble to help now can go a long way in the future. I just have a lot of respect for her.

Loghain:

This one's gonna be short bc I didn't recruit him. He's an amazing villain and would probably be a great Warden as well. He reminds me of Denerhor from LOTR; once a hero/stewart of his people, ambition and desperation have driven them both down a terrible path. I have also only little idea about his past. People say he lost a lot, and I believe it wholeheartedly; it doesn't excuse the fact that he plunged the country into a civil war in the middle of a Blight. I don't have a lot of sympathy for short-sighted politicians. I wish he hadn't made himself regent. That's what I take away from his character.

Edit: One thing I forgot to mention that really impressed me was his death. I had Alistair duel him (that was a rough duel), and then it kinda just jumped to a cutscene of my Warden nodding and Alistair executing him. That didn't sit well with me. I didn't want to kill Loghain, and less so in front of Anora. But what impressed me was that Loghain just accepted it. That takes a whole lot of guts. Compare that to Howe's death, and how he screams out that he deserved (more, probably, or anything but death) and it's crystal clear who the more noble of the two is. Loghain strikes me as very lawful neutral, and any neutral alignment has the particularity that it can be dragged towards good or bad, sometimes without the characters noticing it (which is interesting from a DnD perspective; neutral is often concieved of as just as stable as good or evil, but that may not be true. But that's a different post). Anyway, Loghain's death was impactful.

Morrigan:

I could kick myself for not maxing out her approval in the first play-through. I got to enjoy a bit of her friendship by the end of it and boy was even that little bit worth it. Friendship with Morrigan is something that is hard-won. It's all the more precious because of that.

Morrigan is full of paradoxes, I think. She's incredibly wise in some ways, yet also very short-sighted (”just kill them, don't solve their problems”. Morrigan, dear, I'm not going to gain a lot of allies if I kill everybody who poses a problem to me). She is so intelligent, but emotionally... not so. She knows so much about some things, and very little about the next. She's incredibly wilful and knows what she wants, but follows Flemeth's orders all the time through. She hungers for power and independence, yet craves closeness, but won't allow herself to have it. She asks you to prove yourself to her and is extremely critical of your actions, I think, because she's afraid. She bites the hand that feeds her because it might hit her next.

Like with Eamon, I haven't managed to catch the undercurrent of abuse that seems to permeate Flemeth's relationship with Morrigan. Except there are signs, because there must be something Morrigan is scared of and who has instilled all that rage in her, and that's Flemeth. Also, she clearly hates/does not care about her and wants her dead (unless killing Flemeth was part of Flemeth's plan as well? Hm.)

Morrigan is that one person who you are nice to, continuously, because nobody else is. And suddenly she becomes less cold. And then friendly. And suddenly you're asking yourself why everybody hates her, because she's a really good friend! I just wish the other companions came to a similar conclusion, especially Alistair and Wynne.

Oghren:

They did this man dirty. He has such great lines and I'm convinced he was a great person before Branka disappeared. He has that dwarven warrior spirit, and while he looks like Gimli, some of his most impactful lines remind me of Dwalin or even Thorin Oakenshield himself. He could be so noble had he gotten some character development, damnit!

Oghren as he is written is somewhat disgusting. I hate the lechering comments and the drunkenness. And still, I don't hate him because of those amazing lines he has when he's actually sober. It's frustrating and I'll give him that character development myself if the game won't. I strongly associate the song Whiskey Lullaby with him, bc that's how he would have ended up if the Warden hadn't taken him along (warning: the song talks about suicide and alcoholism). Like I said, they could have done such cool things with his character. As he is written now... it's just sad. Moments of lucidity drowned in alcohol and creepy jokes. As you can see, I don't blame the character for either. The alcoholism happens all too often irl. The creepy jokes... I put that one on the writers' tab.

I actually think Oghren could have been a great mentor figure (I know, I shock myself as well sometimes). Next to the Grey Wardens, the ones who know most about fighting darkspawn are the dwarves because they have to deal with them constantly. Especially a warrior caste dwarf like Oghren could have brought a lot of that invaluable knowledge to the team, especially since there are no Grey Wardens in Ferelden but two extremely green recruits. Next, you get the chance to give Oghren the command of the teammates you leave behind in the battle of Denerim with the reason that he has lead men into battle before. Where did that suddenly come from? Oghren should have been right up there telling my Warden that they were doing this wrong, that they needed more food (and booze) and a confident leader to keep the armies they've called together going. Oghren should have been able to tell my civilian city elf who got recruited into the Grey Wardens a six months ago how one leads an army. How one presents oneself to inspire confidence, how one doesn't crack under the pressure, how one gets the leaders of said armies (some who hate each others guts i.e. Dalish elves and humans) to work together. And, last but not least, Oghren could have had a great story about grief. This is a man who has lost most of what made him (and what he hasn't lost he's spilling down the drain with every mug of ale). This is a man who, if you take him into the Deep Roads, has to see what his wife did to his family, how his wife got absolutely obsessed, and can be forced to kill said wife or watch her die. All Wardens loose their home and families at the start of the story. It would really have rounded the whole narrative out if the Warden and Oghren could have recognised their grief in each other and hashed it out somehow. Such as it is, Oghren is a depressed drunkard and there is nothing we can do about that. I find that frustrating.

Rascal (a.k.a. Dog):

Best boy. 100/10. I wish we had gotten to see the reaction of the different origins to the mabari (because elves probably have a whole different experience with them from mages or humans. And dwarves just... I think they straight up have none? XD). Other than that, no complaints. The name Rascal was the one I gave my dog because you have to be a right rascal to survive what he did and play the pranks he plays. Smartest breed in the world indeed.

Shale:

Shale is one of those characters that I recruited rather late in the game, so I haven't had the chance to explore their personality and worldview, really. I didn't even get to take them to the Deep Roads (this will be ammended in playthrough nr. 2). As such, I don't have particularly strong opinions on them (or her? The wiki refers to Shale as 'it', but that sounds weird). But, because I know so little about Shale, I have a lot of questions. First, what were they like before they were a golem? Shayle, as she was called then, was the best warrior of her time if I remember correctly. Why did she become a golem? Was it to be able to eternally protect her people? Was the sarcasm the golem Shale exhibits also part of the dwarven warrior Shayle or did that come later (if for thirty years you have nobody to talk to but yourself, you better be entertaining. And I can imagine how it could make somebody terribly jaded as well).

Next, how attached is Shale to their golem form, exactly? According to the banter, they infinitely prefer it to a squishy fleshy form. If that is the case, however, why go to Tevinter to try and become a squishy dwarf again? It's not like that process could be reversed if they wanted to become a golem again; if Shale survives to the end of the game, the Anvil of the Void is destroyed and Caridin is dead. Was the whole spiel about their indestructible form a façade? It might have been, but not because Shale actually disliked their form. I think it would have more to do with the loss of their memories and with the very invasive experiments and alterations of Shale's body made by the mage Wilhelm. The loss of memories means that Shale is unable to remember life as a fleshy creature. They might be deflecting by pretending that they didn't care for that experience anyway because of the superiority of their golem form. The modifications made to their form by Wilhelm would have alienated them from their body. In light of this, it's significant that Shale asks the Warden to decorate their form with crystals.

All of this is, of course, pure speculation. I may have easily missed or forgotten details that would disprove the above thoughts. All in all, I like Shale and I hope we meet them again in DA4 (given that it's mostly set in Tevinter). It's a liking from a respectful distance, because Shale is tall and made out of rock and also way more experienced than I will ever be (they are literally the oldest member of the Warden's little Blight fighting squad).

Sten:

Sten is another person I'd keep a respectful distance from physically. That seems to be the what he would prefer, at least. I've enjoyed his character a lot, especially because he seems pretty clear-cut at first, but slowly lets the nuance of his person show (gruff and stoic, but then he has an eye for art, a sweet tooth and he likes cute animals). It's also very interesting that there's no moment when you learn "the truth" about him the way you do with Zevran or Leliana. There's no big reveal about his life under the Qun before coming to Ferelden. He says he was sent to monitor the Blight, but honestly? If neither Ferelden nor Orlais knew there was a Blight, how could the Qunari know? I think he's lying, and he takes his secrets back with him when he leaves Ferelden. And yet I think I know him enough to say that a Warden who has become friends with him has nothing to fear from Sten.

One thing I find very interesting about Sten is how he thinks. His conversation about how women can't be soldiers has been analysed a lot on this page I think. He seems to be arguing based on a different paradigma than the one the Warden has. He also seems to have a very clear-cut view of the world. What is fascinating to me is that, when arguing with the Warden and learning about their culture, he is not necessarily becoming more lax about his worldview. I think it's more likely that he is expanding his paradigma, the structure of thought through which he understands the world. I don't think that he is now convinced that women can be warriors as well. I think he rather understands that, in Ferelden, the relationship between occupation and gender is different than under the Qun. Which of the two he thinks is more right or more agreeable, I have no idea. I'm also not very interested in that. But I find it fascinating how he always seems to be looking on quietly, gathering data, classifying it and trying to fit it into his understanding of how the world works. I wouldn't be surprised at all if his original party was a scouting party to see how vulnerable Ferelden was at that moment to outside forces. One thing I don't understand with all of this is why he urges the Warden to meet the Blight head on. No smart soldier would suggest that, except if they are foolishly proud (and Sten doesn't seem like that kind of guy tbh). I get that the Warden takes way longer to gather allies than expected because they first have to solve all of their allies' problems. But surely Sten sees the need to have allies? Is he just that impatient? Does he have a death wish (à la, I lost my sword and am without honour, better to die sooner than later and in glorious battle)? Was he his group's previous commander and is he now having trouble following somebody else's orders? Or maybe it's his way to make sure the Warden knows what they are doing? To push them into becoming the self-assured commander their allies will need once they're all gathered? I really don't know. I like the last option best, however.

For me, Sten is my fellow, more experienced soldier. Like Alistair, he can potentially be the Warden's brother in arms, but he's definitely the older brother here. He probably doesn't take kindly to tearful confessions of how hard everything is, but I feel like he's otherwise a solid rock to lean on. I feel like the Warden can trust him to do what is necessary and count on him no matter what, especially after they get his sword back. His devotion from that point on is honestly so powerful.

Wynne:

Wynne was such a support for my Warden (except with the whole conversation about love vs. duty and that she may have to choose between Zevran and ending the Blight and that she should therefore break up with him. Wynne had a point. Astala was so not willing to sacrifice her relationship with Zevran. But the whole conversation came at a point where she was already so disillusioned that she blew up in Wynne's face (”can i please just have one (1) nice thing????”)). But all in all, Wynne is great.

She has a lot of flaws. She was very marked by her life in the Cricle and, for all her age, she has little experience living outside of it. She is also a conformist despite her strong moral core. In a way, her ability to find peace with her lot in life impresses me deeply because it speaks to a lot of strength of character. Sadly, however, strength can be ill applied and used to suppress. I think she has convinced herself that the Chantry is right under (almost) all circumstances to be able to rationalize the life that mages live. She's had her son taken away from her as a baby and an apprentice killed. Her reaction seems to have been to convince herself that this was right, or for the greater good (and now I'm thinking about the Guardian's question at the temple of Andraste's Ashes; are you wise or do you just repeat what others have told you? The answer is not as clear-cut as it might be). This is why she is so irritated by Zevran and Morrigan. By aligning herself with the Chantry, she is, in her eyes, good. Zevran and Morrigan are not; they do not conform to Chantry morality and they defend themselves tooth and nails against somebody who would try and convert them. This is something Wynne never allowed herself to do; she always did the "right" thing and it has cost her so much. I'm not saying she was right (it would probably have done her some good to rebel from time to time, and to trust her own gut instinct more), but in light of this, it hardly surprises me that she's so judgamental. She has to be, or she would be forced to confront all the evil she has not fought against all those years and all the hurt that has been caused to her by the very institution she protects (and thank God she only tries to argue and can appreciate it when people have found a good life outside of her comfort zone. If she tried to convince by force or, for example, drag her former apprentice back to the Circle... boy oh boy that would get ugly). If you think about it, Wynne really is a good example for what happens if you live by a philosophy of always choosing the lesser evil.

Something that I keep forgetting over her grandmotherly and dignified character is how damn powerful she is. She has escaped the carnage at Ostagar; HOW!? She protected those mage apprentices in the Circle tower for God knows how long. In the battle of Denerim, she wades through an army and comes out alive on the other side. The wiki lists her age at 40, I think, but that doesn't make a lick of sense unless 75 years of age are the Fereldan equivalent to 100. This lady, about whom people make grandmother jokes, did all that. It's impressive.

Zevran:

You know, I would really love to know what Wynne thinks about the events at Kirkwall in DA2. It might be a disaster for her, or it might pave the way for one last bit of character development. She certainly didn't want to return to the Circle after fighting the Blight. That may be an indicator of some change in her stance on the Circle of Magi.

Edit: I forgot that she is what the Circle considers a literal abomination! Holy cow, how could I forget that?? Anyway, her conversation about what being an abomination means is so... heartbreaking, actually. It's so tentative. So careful. "Am I an abomination? Am I the same thing that has killed my students? The same thing as Uldred? Am I lost and damned? Did I invite this spirit in? Is this my fault?" Like wow, Wynne is going through something huge right there. I love it. I have to continue playing the game to see what it ends up as, but it's fascinating and such a huge thing that she allows the Warden in on that.

Ah, Zevran, my beloved (he has stolen my heart so much it's not even funny anymore). He's funny, he's charming, he's so so loyal and it breaks my heart. Zevran is the one about whom I've read most meta: these three wonderful posts for instance, as well as this one about his possible lack of scars, and this one about his lack of freedom. All of these have influenced my opinion of him and they are great reads.

I have talked about Zevran with you before, so I'll just skip to the new stuff. I have come to conclusion that Zevran is an artist at heart. This is totally not biased by the fact that I also do art, but hear me out. One of his preferred gifts are bars of silver and gold. While those have the obvious utility of basically functioning as money (they can be sold to any silversmith or goldsmith and their value is pretty stable through time and in different countries), there's also this from his codex: "Zevran shows an affinity for the finer things in life—hardly surprising for an Antivan Crow—but his appreciation can be more poetic than he lets on. A simple bar of refined silver or gold, uncomplicated by a craftsman's hammer, is elegantly valuable." Tell me that is not an artist's eye that sees that gold and sees the beauty in it. Then, there's also the meta about Zevran the Seducer which I linked above and link here again. It talks specifically about how he lets himself enjoy the target and be seen in his enjoyment. Tell me that is not an artist's eye that beholds the beauty of something he is set out to destroy. Even his talk about his assassinations show this. He talks about it as an art, the way somebody would talk about the brutal intervention in stone that produces a sculpture. Yes, it's a rationalization of the act of killing and yes killing is still wrong. But he doesn't go on about it on a moral tangent the way Alistair or Wynne would (”this person was bad, killing them was necessary”) or even through the argument of survival like Morrigan would (”it was either them or me and it sure as Hell wasn't going to be me”). He talks about the pleasure of a job well done, of the satisfaction of striking the precise point and executing a plan to the perfection so as to minimize chances of discovery and to make a clean death possible. And pleasure in seeing and in doing, this I firmly believe, is absolutely fundamental for an artist.

My favourite part about my Warden and Zevran as a pairing is that Zevran precisely brings out that ability to take your pleasures as they come and to really savour them. Fighting the Blight is tough; it's so important to find good things amidst the chaos to stay sane. If Astala saves Zevran from himself by offering him a place to stay and a purpose, Zevran saves Astala from herself by keeping her from running herself into the ground trying to save the world.

There are some things I don't like about Zev. The incessant flirting, for example, sometimes makes me uncomfortable (it becomes enjoyable for me once the Warden and him are in a relationship, but before that? Nah, no thanks). I wish he would also leave the other female characters alone (and there's so many more shameless comments of his aimed at Morrigan, Leliana or Wynne than at Alistair or maybe even Sten).

---

And that's my take on the Origins companions (this was rather long. Whew ^^' I hope it was still readable and that you enjoyed it!!) Thank you so much for the ask!! It's been a joy thinking about this. I was worrying at first that the less prominent companions like Sten or Shale wouldn't get as much content but... well XD

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

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originally i just wanted dream to recover, preferably in the syndicate. but after today's quackity lore? he deserves to fuck shit up for a bit. let him get his revenge. tommy got his revenge on dream, techno got his revenge on l'manberg, dream deserves to get revenge on quackity and sam! then he can recover after that lol

(context: ask was sent on march 16th and i am very. very late.)

but YEAH !! logic brain says revenge bad and cycle of violence will continue BUT emotion brain wants c!dream to go crazy go stupid !! go beat them up honey we’ll be here with juice boxes and fruit snacks when you’re done <3

i wrote this while looping casino royale by derivakat for (checks time) something like 12 hours straight so uhh,,, yeah LMAO have some of c!dream going apeshit bc honestly he deserves it (/hj)

tw: implied torture, abuse, mentioned injuries, suicide, murder, explosions, death, violence, dark portrayals of c!dream, c!quackity, and c!sam, emotional distress, prison arc, pandora’s vault

Sam is uneasy long before he enters Las Nevadas - Quackity’s terse, serious-sounding string of texts he’d woken up to had sent his heart racing before the country even came into sight, and he’s pretty sure the pit in the middle of his gut since Dream escaped a week ago won’t disappear until the prisoner is either jailed or dead at his feet. Still, the city hardly does his anxiety any favors - each step within its limits feels a bit more like walking to his own death, the silent storefronts and looming, boarded up casino seeming to watch his every move, making him pick up his pace to move a little faster and avoid their judging gazes.

Stuck in his head as he is, it’s not until he’s halfway to the meeting place that he realizes how eerily quiet the place is - Las Nevadas has yet to be a particularly busy country with the casino yet to open and their recruits usually doing their own thing in the meantime, but still there’s usually at least one of them lingering on the city grounds, between Fundy’s work on his yacht and Foolish’s construction and whatever Slime does, usually involving an immense amount of following Quackity’s every move. The city as it right now feels much more like when it had been no more than a secret of his and Quackity, months spent with just the two of them working to make Big Q’s vision a reality. There’s something uniquely unnerving about it, like stepping into a ghost town, and Sam’s unease only grows.

“Sam!” Quackity calls from the base of the casino - Sam shades his eyes from the sun as he jogs over. Even from this far, it’s clear Q is displeased - his lips are flat in a small frown, skin taut from where the corner of his mouth is pulling at his scar. His tie is slightly askew and shirt rumpled - he looks disheveled, eyebrows narrowed irritatedly as he taps at something on his communicator. Sam smiles slightly, hollow.

“Hello Quackity,” he responds simply, drawing his trident and bringing it to his side. “You said we needed to meet?”

“Yeah,” Quackity’s voice is distracted, and he mumbles a curse as he jams his finger particularly hard against the communicator screen. “What is up with everyone today? They sent me these- weird fucking messages and then we get here and nobody’s here-”

“Who?” Sam’s lips press together. “You mean like- Fundy? Or Foolish?” They seem to be the ones that Quackity got messages from most frequently, if he remembers right. He doesn’t know for sure - usually, Quackity handles the social side of managing Las Nevadas.

“Fundy, Purpled, Foolish, Slime-” Quackity makes a vague, affronted noise. “All of them! Where the hell are they?”

Sam pauses.

“Q, when did Slime learn to use a communicator?”

“That’s the green one, right?” Both of them freeze, whirling around to the voice behind them, seeing nothing but the empty, arched doorway of the still-locked casino. “Naïve. Easy to fool.” The voice pauses, barks a sharp, quiet laugh. “Made my job easy, at least.”

The voice is familiar- too familiar. Sam doesn’t think he’ll ever get that cadence out of his head, not after months after months spent in the prison, hearing it in every possible tone and form. Quackity’s shoulders are hunched up to his ears, teeth bared in a snarl.

“Dream- I fucking swear- where the hell are you?”

“Aw, not so brave when the other person can actually fight back, are we?” Dream’s voice is lilting, mocking, and Sam’s hands tighten on the trident. “Fine, I’ll show myself. I’m not like you- no need to extend this game any longer than necessary.”

Dream slinks out from the shadows, wearing all black and covered in netherite armor, seeming fiddling with a small, grey thing in one hand. HIs stance is wide, torso pulled close to the ground - instead of a mask, his outfit includes a hooded black cloak that pulls down over his face, barely offering a glimpse of his eye glaring from underneath it.

“I’m giving you three seconds to tell me why the hell you’re in my country,” Quackity growls, sword forming in his hand, blade still crusted over with old blood, “And I’ll make your death half as painful as it’ll be otherwise.”

Dream laughs, high-pitched and unstable. “Please- what are you gonna do with that thing?” Quackity stalks forward with a low, wordless yell and Sam only barely manages to snag him back by the wrist.

“Watch it, Q,” Sam mutters, looking closer. Sure enough, there’s a faint, reddish haze rising from Dream’s body, only barely visible, interspersed with some lighter blue wisps. Strength and Speed. “He’s got potions.”

“Outmatched, aren’t we?” Dream cocks his head to the side, a tight-lipped smile visible under the hood’s shadow. “What a shame. I was hoping for a good fight.”

Quackity curses at him, loudly, but mullishly stays in place instead of lashing out like earlier, and Sam hisses a small sigh of relief. He looks back over at Dream - under the sun, he looks worse than ever, armor doing little to hide the gaunt edge of his face, limbs skinny and shaking. His hands tremble, wrists kept close together, as he continues to move the thing within them from hand to hand, small and grey and smooth from what he can tell in flashes between scarred and calloused fingers. He’s still favoring his left side slightly, but his eyes are cold and clear as they follow his every movement, clearly lucid and intelligent. Unfortunately for them, Dream is the best of fighters at the worst of times, and he has no doubt that with potions on his side and themselves relatively unprepared for battle, any fight with him won’t go particularly well.

Negotiation it is, then. “Why are you here, Dream?” If they stall long enough, then the rest of the server can come to back them up, and then even Dream won’t be able to fight back for long. He and Quackity can figure out what to do with him once he’s safely back under their control - for now, they have to play things safe. He pulls out his communicator carefully with one hand, trying to avoid drawing attention to his movements. “I doubt you’re here for a housewarming visit.”

Dream waves his hand slightly. “Something like that-” he bares his teeth in a small smile. “How about a housewarming gift, instead?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Quackity bites, aggressive in a way that speaks of how threatened he feels, and the pit in Sam’s stomach only grows. Dream’s eye seems to glow as he turns and presses his hands to the nearby wall; when he pulls them back, there’s a stone button fastened on the quartz.

“Say, Quackity,” Dream’s voice is too light to be anything but forced levity, rolling his shoulders back to try and hide the way his entire body has begun to shake even more violently than before. “How much TNT do you suppose it took for Wilbur to blow up L’manburg?”

Sam gasps, low and harsh through his teeth, a quiet, breathless no falling from his lips. Quackity’s head shakes, eyes widening in fury and denial.

“No- no what the fuck did you do- Dream what the absolute fuck did you do-”

“Eleven stacks of TNT, to blow up that country to kingdom come.” Dream laughs, directing his wild, manic expression to look them in the eye. “The amount of TNT hooked up to this thing is ten times that.”

“You’re a liar-” Quackity rushes forward, sword raised, “I’m going to fucking kill you-”

Sam grabs him, again, ignoring his yells to look at Dream, who’s still standing, seemingly unruffled, one hand hovering over the button that’ll spell doom for them all.

“That’ll kill all of us,” he tries to reason, panic clawing up his lungs, “You’re on your last life. You can’t-”

“And what, Warden, makes you think I give a single goddamn fuck about that?” Dream’s voice cracks, slightly, and for a moment Sam almost thinks he’ll break, that he can press the point until the other backs down - but Dream is nothing if not stubborn, and within seconds he’s composed himself again, looking at them with a determined set to his jaw that Sam recognizes well enough from Quackity’s visits to know that he won’t back down. “Everyone else is far away from here. I made sure of that. It’s just you, and Quackity, and me, and I’m pressing this button if it’s the last thing I do. Call it a parting shot, will you?”

Sam pulls at Quackity, wrist still locked in his grip. “Q, we have to leave.”

“I’m not letting him destroy this place Sam, are you out of your fucking mind? This- Las Nevadas- it’s everything- I’m not letting him take this place from me not again-”

“He’s going to kill us all, Quackity,” he throws a water bucket at his feet, charging up his trident. The sign taunts him at the edges of the city borders, far too far away for any of them to even hope to reach. “We have to go now-”

“Say your goodbyes,” Dream taunts, and there’s a quiet click. Sam smells the faint, smoky smell of redstone being activated, hears a hum growing in volume from the ground beneath him. He looks over to Dream, who has a hand pressing the button to the wall, fever-bright eyes wide and wet as he stares at his own hand before shutting them with a soft, almost serene smile. “And see you in hell.”

The world goes white.

[Dream was blown up by Dream.]

[Quackity was blown up by Dream.]

[awesamdude was blown up by Dream.]

#-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !!#-> my asks #tw torture #tw abuse #tw injuries #tw suicide #tw murder #tw explosion #tw death #tw violence #tw emotional distress #prison arc #pandora's vault

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hadtochangemyurlquick · 3 years

Note

your writing is so so great! could I please request a one shot where maybe Toni falls of a cliff/gets injured badly in order to protect Shelby and her friends and they are insanely worried (both for Toni and Shelby’s mental wellbeing) JUST LIKE IN YOUR LAST ONE SHOT, I actually think the girls are the best thing Toni could ever get and she deserves all of the comfort and love

it’s 2.3k of hurt/comfort fresh off the presses. i have not even read it. initially it was gonna be a lot angstier but i couldn’t make the stakes high enough in that so we’re sticking with this for now. i’ll post it on a03 as soon as i get positive feedback bc i crave validation and also i ahve not eaten lunch and am running on three hours of sleep and if you’re wondering if that’s your fault. well.

Toni woke up and groaned, her head pounded and she was cold all over, shivers wracking her body.

She gave a slow cough, and dust rattled around in her lungs.

She was alive, at least. That was something.

Fuck, Shelby.

“Shelby?” Her voice was so hoarse it barely pierced the gloom, but it was clear. Toni was alone.

The worst of her injuries seemed to be her leg, which was trapped under a rock she didn’t have the leverage to move. She didn’t have the space to move at all actually. There was no light in the alcove, or the space between rocks she was in, but hopefully it wasn’t airtight.

Her head was bleeding, and her back was bruised, and there were scrapes up and down her arms, but she could really barely feel her leg.

There was water, which was very very bad, but it was only ankle deep, and the soft trickle she heard did not indicate she only had a few hours left.

The thunderstorm had come on suddenly, tropical ones sometimes do. It wasn’t Toni’s first time caught up in one, usually they were in the trees and they had to race for a nearby cave or the beach just in case lightning decided to strike. But she and Shelby had been by the cliffs, looking for more caves or maybe a place to get ten minutes to themselves.

The rain had dropped down like a hammer, the wind was strong enough it carried them both off their feet. Toni remembered, vaguely, being slammed into something hard. She grabbed Shelby’s hand and kept them going against it, wind and hail pelting them hard enough to bruise. She hadn’t heard the distant rumbling, stupid, but had shoved Shelby into a cave and at the wrong second her grip slipped and the wind picked up, and she was flung away.

She crawled into some pace between rocks and the rumble had been a mud slide. Everything was kinda hazy after that.

At least the storm seemed to have stopped. She rubbed her eyes and winced at the pain in her head. Probably a concussion.

God what if Shelby was buried too? What if Shelby was dead?

That was a nasty storm, what if the other girls were hurt, even if they were on the beach?

What if Toni died here, alone and cold and bleeding and hurt?

“Toni!” Someone screamed.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink into the relief. From how far away they were, and muffled by the rock slide, she couldn’t recognize it, but she’d give anything that it was Shelby.

“Toni!”

She tried to call back but her voice wouldn’t let out much more than a rasp and a series of coughs that shook her to her spine.

She tried slamming her fist against the rock ceiling but that made the water at the bottom start trickling faster.

“Toni!”

The voice sounded further away and she began to panic, what if that was her last shot?

“Toni!”

She settled for slow scratching at the mud trapping her in and the voice started getting closer again.

“I think I hear something over here!” Someone called. “Toni, is that you?”

“Yes,” she tried to rasp out, “Yes, I’m here!”

“I can’t hear anything,” someone said.

She kept scratching.

“There’s definitely something there,” someone said. “Maybe it’s an animal or something.”

“She has to be around here somewhere,” someone said. “TONI!”

The water around her ankles was filling up faster, had almost reached her navel. The more she scratched the higher she got, the rocks behind her head felt less stable.

“Toni if that’s you knock twice okay?” Someone said.

She knocked twice.

“Guys she’s down here!”

There are more voices, scratches and banging around on top of her head. It all feels incredibly dangerous, like they might get sucked down too, but she doesn’t have a way to warn them.

In the end Dot managed to get them to their senses, got them to stand back and used the hatchet to slowly carve a hole in. It was enough for her to peer through and Toni realized what she must’ve looked like. Bloody and pale and broken.

“Yalright Toni?” Dot asked.

Toni shook her head, and with the penlight she knew Dot could see it. At least the fresh air was nice, she suspected the ventilation wasn’t as great as she thought it initially was.

Dot pulled away to address everyone. “Okay guys, it’s filling with water which means we have to be super careful.” Dot reappeared, “Any major injuries?”

“Leg,” Toni tried to rasp out.

“What’s that?”

Toni pointed at her leg.

“Ah shit, is it trapped?” Dot asked.

Toni nodded.

Dot disappeared again and her voice was too quiet for Toni to make out.

“Toni?” It was Martha, which at least meant she was okay. “We’re gonna get you out of there you just have to stay calm.”

Where the fuck was Shelby?

The hole they dug got a little wider, she could hear Dot over-exerting herself, Fatin simply exerting herself, Leah going into hyper drive. Nora gave instructions from the sidelines and Martha kept talking to her.

Where was Shelby where was she.

When Dot’s hand finally managed to reach her hand Toni let out her first audible noise in hours and it was a scream of pain. Her leg felt like it was falling out of her socket and she collapsed back into the water with a splash, it now at chest height.

“Toni,” Martha’s voice returned, “We might have to amputate.”

“No,” Toni rasped, tears streaked down her dusty face. “Please no.”

She knew they couldn’t hear her but still. She found herself begging, begging like she never had before.

“Shelby wants to talk to you,” Martha said, she sounded unsure. “Is that okay?”

Toni nodded, as aggressively as she could. So Shelby was okay, it was her voice in the beginning.

“Toni,” there was Shelby’s voice, she almost closed her eyes at the sound of it, but she didn’t want to miss her eyes. “Toni I’m here.” She reached her hand out and Toni bent as far as she could, letting their fingers intertwine in a loose hold before she collapsed back down again. “We’re gonna get you out of this, okay?”

Toni wiped at her eyes. “Shelby.”

“I promise,” Shelby said, “you’re gonna be just fine.”

They managed to carve her out, Toni wasn’t quite sure how. She faded out after a few hours, when the water reached her chin. When she woke up she was back on the beach, in clean clothes in the shelter, her leg was elevated and wrong looking, and her head was in Martha’s lap.

“You’re awake,” Martha said, Toni’s hair was probably filled with a million different braids. “Let me get Dot, alright?”

Toni nodded and to her horror tears started streaming down her cheeks the moment Martha left. Maybe it was exhaustion, pain, but it felt like fear. That all consuming crippling terror.

“Hey,” it was Shelby’s voice, not Dot’s, that came through the shelter. She spotted the tears immediately and Toni closed her eyes, willing them to stop. A soft, calloused finger, wiped them away and Toni leant into the touch so desperate and cold and her arms wrapped around Shelby as Shelby lifted her just a little into her arms.

“You’re alright,” Shelby said. “I’ve got you.”

Toni was aware she was shivering and shaking, her entire body felt weaker than it ever had.

“I’ve got meds for you, alright?” Shelby said. She pulled away. “You need to eat somethin first, and drink somethin, you’re probably dehydrated.”

She helped Toni sit up against one of Fatin’s balled up sweaters and gave her some of the goat jerky Shelby had managed to smoke. Toni chewed slowly and felt exhausted afterwards, and didn’t argue when Shelby handed her a pill and some water. She fell asleep to Shelby’s hands caressing hers.

Things faded in and out. Shelby and Martha were both there as much as they could be but it was Rachel who took up the mantel more often than not. One hand meant taking care of Toni was about as productive as she could get.

“How does the leg feel?” Rachel asked, when Toni was more lucid than usual.

“I can’t feel it,” Toni said. “Probably not a great sign.”

“Well I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Dot said we got to wean you off of the painkillers because you might get addicted.”

Toni rubbed her eyes, the last thing she wanted to think about right now was her mother.

“I’m also probably blowing through the stash,” she said.

“Hopefully this is the last major injury we get,” Rachel said. Toni looked at her. “Fine. Be that way.”

They were silent for awhile, Rachel picking at some of her bandages and Toni focusing on the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore.

“I don’t think Shelby’s a homophobe,” Rachel said. Toni looked at her, “I know I know but—she was really freaked out when we found her. She’s definitely got a major guilt complex or something, but I don’t think she hates you. At least not anymore.”

“Okay,” Toni swallowed hard.

“I just mean—ugh,” Rachel went from picking at her bandage to picking at her clothes. “Listen I’m not saying you have to forgive her but just like. You didn’t see her once we found you. She was freaking out man, kept saying how god had taken you. Remind me never to go to Texas like she and Dot keep inviting me?”

“Can’t be all bad,” Toni said, ignoring everything else Rachel just said. “I hear the Mexican food is great.”

Rachel hummed.

“Hey,” Toni kept her voice soft when Shelby came in that night with dinner. “I wanna talk to you.”

“Eat first,” Shelby said. “I need to check your scrapes. How does your head feel?”

“Like I have a mild concussion,” Toni said.

Shelby re-bandaged the worst of the scrapes, and cleaned them again. A lot of them were so bad they were yellow with pus, and likely Toni would have wicked scars there.

“Nora said it was an off shore hurricane, one of those that dies before it reaches the mainland. It was probably almost dead which is why it only last a few hours.”

“Oh,” Toni said. “Does that mean were close to somewhere?”

“It could, but it might mean we’re closer to Japan,” Shelby said. “How’s the leg?”

“I can’t feel it,” Toni said. Shelby nodded.

“Dot wants you to only use the meds to sleep,” Shelby said.

“It’s a good idea, with like—my mom and everything,” Toni looked away and Shelby took her hand.

“You know I don’t think less of you for that, right?”

Toni nodded.

“Good.”

They ate in relative quiet, for dessert there were lychees which Shelby had evidently picked up for the two of them if her blushing was anything to go by.

“I wanna talk to you about something,” Toni said at last. Shelby nodded. “Rachel was talking to me about how they found you.”

Shelby frowned, “alright?”

“Did you—“ Toni furrowed her brow, “Shelby did you really think god had taken me away or something?”

Shelby looked away away, fidgeting with that damned cross necklace. “Toni you didn’t see it.”

“Shelby I’m pretty sure I’m the only other one who did.”

Shelby shook her head, “No, no Toni you didn’t see it—not the way I did. The storm came on so suddenly, and there was lightning and thunder everywhere, and your hand was in mine but I turned around I just barely saw you go flying, like you were actually being sucked up into the sky.”

“But I’m okay,” Toni said.

“No,” Shelby kept shaking her head, “It was my fault. If I had held on a little tighter, or if I hadn’t been there you wouldn’t have been there at all.”

“I would still be on this island—“

“None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t been here,” Shelby said. “Don’t you see? I had feelings for you and you got food poisoning, we kissed and everyone nearly starved, Rachel got attacked by a shark after we had sex—Toni what more do you need?”

“Shelby,” Toni grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“I mean you got pulled away by Him when I was about to tell you I—“ Shelby cut herself off. “It’s a sign, is all. It’s a sign.”

“Shelby look at me.”

When Shelby does her eyes are red and wide and scared.

“Shelby do you really think God would kill me for this,” Toni traced a thumb over Shelby’s hand. “For loving you?”

Shelby swallowed hard. “I can’t rightly say.”

“Shelby,” Toni’s voice cracked, and she couldn’t even blame it on the dust. “You really think he’d do that? Kill some random ass teenage girl because she happened to love another teenage girl? I know I don’t know a lot about the Bible but I’m pretty sure Jesus was too busy turning water into wine to worry about if a couple of girls were kissing behind the church.”

Shelby kinda smiled at that and Toni ached to pull her into her arms, to run her fingers through her matted her and kiss her until the cows came home. Or the goats. But her body was too weak, and she had to settle for pressing a kiss to Shelby’s knuckles.

“I love you,” Toni said. “Now say it back.”

Shelby looked at the door to the tent, worrying her jaw, she looked back at Toni, “I love you too.”

She flinched and waited, but all they heard was the gentle crashing of distant waves and Shelby seemed to sag.

“I’m gonna be fine,” Toni said. “And we’re gonna be fine. And I love you.”

Shelby nodded, “I love you too.”

#gus writes #gus answers #the wilds fanfic #the wilds #shoni #goodfoe #goodfoe fanfic #ren don't #shelby goodkind #toni shalifoe #send prompts bitches

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thelastspeecher · 3 years

Text

Here Comes the Son

Hehehe a pun.

Anyways I stayed up late last night bc I had an anxiety attack and wound up writing during that time so here have some more Marriage of Convenience AU.

——————————————————————————————

“Want Mama,” Iris whined loudly at Stan. “Want see her.” Stan sighed heavily.

“You and me both, kid,” he mumbled. Angie had gone into labor last night, resulting in Ford rushing her to the hospital and leaving Stan alone with Orion and Iris. That morning, Ford had called to let Stan know Angie was ready for visitors. But when they arrived, Angie had already fallen back asleep. Now, Stan was stuck in the waiting area outside Angie’s hospital room, supervising his niece and nephew.

“Uncy Stan,” Orion whimpered, holding his arms out. Stan lifted his nephew onto his lap.

“Getting bored?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Me, too.” Stan leaned his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “But your dad doesn’t want to wake up your ma. I guess she punched him the last time he did that.”

“Punch?”

“Yeah, punch. I’ll teach you how to throw a good one when you’re older.”

“Mmkay.”

“What are ya doin’?” Stan looked over. A strange man stood there, his hands on his hips. “Why aren’t ya in the room with yer wife?”

“Uh, ‘cause I don’t have a wife?” Stan said. Something about the man looked familiar, but Stan couldn’t quite place him. The man scowled.

“Don’t have a-” His eyes widened. “Wait. Yer not Stanford.”

“Nope.”

“But his children are with ya.”

“It’s called babysitting, hayseed. Ever heard of it?”

“Hayseed?!” the man squeaked. The door to Angie’s room opened. Ford stepped into the hall. “Stanford, who is this hooligan ya have babysittin’ yer children?” the man demanded.

“That hooligan would happen to be my twin brother, Stanley. We recently reconnected, and he’s been serving as our live-in nanny since.” Ford frowned. “Did Angie not tell you?”

“She mentioned that ya got a live-in nanny, but not that he was yer twin brother.” The man looked back at Stan. “I s’ppose that I should introduce m’self, then.” He held out a hand. Stan shook it. “The name’s Lute McGucket. I’m one of Angie’s older brothers.”

“So that’s why you’ve got that nose,” Stan said idly. Ford’s eyes lit up.

“Lute and Angie aren’t the only ones with that nose!” he gushed. Stan stood up.

“Your new kid’s got it, too?”

“Yes, he does!”

“He!” Lute gasped. “I got m’self a new nephew?” Ford nodded eagerly.

“Yes, the both of you do. Please, come inside, Angie’s finally awake and able to handle visitors.”

“Dada!” Iris toddled over to Ford. Ford knelt to pick her up. “We go see Mama?”

“Yes, my dear, we are going to see your mother now.” Ford poked Iris’s nose, eliciting a giggle from her. “And your new baby brother!” Stan, still holding Orion, and Lute followed Ford into the hospital room. The moment Stan’s eyes landed on Angie, he felt his heart skip a beat.

No, Stan, no. You are not getting a crush on your sister-in-law! Even if she and Ford don’t love each other romantically. But he couldn’t deny the feelings that had begun to emerge while Angie was pregnant. The two of them had spent a lot of time together and grown very close. Angie was beautiful, intelligent, funny, and even enjoyed Stan’s sense of humor. She’s the whole package.

And in that moment, Angie sat up in her hospital bed, looking almost ethereal. She glowed with happiness, a faint smile playing around her lips. Her golden hair shone in the light from the window. Nestled in her arms was a small bundle. From a distance, Stan couldn’t make out much of his new nephew’s appearance. All he could see was a long nose inherited from Angie and full head of thick, golden curls.

“Mama!” Orion squealed happily. Angie looked up from her newborn son. She beamed broadly.

“Hello, my babies. Are ya excited to meet yer lil brother?” she gushed. Orion wiggled excitedly in Stan’s arms.

“Geez, kid, calm down. Or I’m gonna drop you,” Stan teased. Lute gave him a dirty look. Stan brought Orion over to Angie’s bed and carefully set him down. Orion peered closely at his little brother. Stan couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

Dammit, Ford and Angie are good at having cute kids. Stan’s new nephew had rich, brown eyes and a round face in addition to the nose and hair Stan had noticed earlier. The baby stared at Stan with intense curiosity.

“He has twelve fingers and twelve toes,” Ford crowed proudly. He had come to the other side of Angie’s bed and placed Iris down as well. Iris crawled over to her new brother, brown eyes wide. Stan grinned at Ford, who had come a long way from hiding his hands constantly in their childhood. Angie had explained to Stan her theory. Ford’s children were polydactyls like him, so thinking poorly of his own polydactyly would be like thinking poorly of his children.

Makes sense to me. Stan’s gaze drifted back to Angie, who was happily watching Orion and Iris coo over their new brother. She’s a damn smart woman.

“So, what’s the na-” he started. The door slammed open. A man ran into the room. He had Angie and Lute’s nose, as well as Angie’s caramel-colored hair.

“Sorry, Lute came in while I parked the truck. And parkin’ took forever!” the man said. Angie looked up with a smile.

“Don’t worry, Harper, ya haven’t missed a bit. I ain’t even told folks this lil feller’s name yet,” she said soothingly. The man – Harper – came over to stand by Lute. Ford nodded at Harper.

“Harper.”

“Stanford,” Harper said. His eyes landed on Stan. “And this would be…?”

“My twin brother and live-in nanny,” Ford explained. Stan held out a hand. Harper shook it. “Stanley, this is one of Angie’s other older brothers, Harper.”

“I figured that out,” Stan drawled, breaking off the handshake. Harper’s eyes glinted with interest.

“Huh. Odd that ya never mentioned yer twin before, Stanford, and suddenly he’s not just in yer life but in charge of yer children.”

“Harper…” Ford said wearily.

Wow, Angie’s brothers really like to poke Ford, don’t they? I wonder if they’ve picked up on the marriage being for convenience instead of love.

“All right, I’ll drop it. Now ain’t the time.” Harper beamed down at the baby in Angie’s arms. “Tell me ‘bout this precious bean.”

“Yes,” Angie said happily. She looked at Ford. “Would you care to do the honors? After all, you were the one who decided the name.” There was a hint of a bite to Angie’s tone.

Huh. Maybe she doesn’t like her kid’s name?

“Of course.” Ford cleared his throat. “Everyone, I would like you to meet Apollo Hercules Pines.”

Okay. I get why she doesn’t like it.

“It’s nice,” Lute said, obviously lying through his teeth. Harper, however, nodded thoughtfully.

“I think it’s wonderful,” he said. “Strong and unique.” Lute rolled his eyes and muttered what sounded like “of course you do” under his breath.

“When I saw his golden hair, I immediately knew we had to name him after the sun. And his middle name was actually chosen by Stan from a list of options that Angie and I settled on.”

“I was sure the baby would be a girl,” Angie mumbled quietly. Ford frowned.

“Angie, is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, just-” Angie messed with Apollo’s blankets. “I weren’t plannin’ on namin’ my child Apollo Hercules.”

“I asked you what you thought. You agreed to it.”

“I wasn’t anywhere near lucid, with all those drugs they gave me durin’ the labor,” Angie argued. “And I was exhausted, too! You know how I get when I’m tired. I can’t think straight.” Stan cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Look, it might be a weird name, but it’s definitely gonna set the kid apart,” he said. Harper nodded.

“I agree. And honestly, Apollo ain’t close to the strangest name we’ve got in our fam’ly. I mean, Angie, yer full name is much stranger.”

“Even my name ain’t as bad as Fiddleford’s,” Angie retorted playfully. Stan frowned. “Another older brother of mine.”

“Yep, it’s a bit of a McGucket fam’ly tradition to have an odd name,” Lute said. He ruffled Apollo’s thick curls. “Since this lil feller’s got the fam’ly nose, makes sense he would have that other fam’ly trait.”

Angie and her brothers continued to chat cheerfully, discussing family gossip and cooing over the three children. Once again, Stan found himself watching his sister-in-law. She laughed. The sound awakened butterflies in Stan’s stomach. A hand was placed on Stan’s shoulder, startling him. He looked over. It was Ford.

“Stanley, thank you,” Ford said quietly. Stan raised an eyebrow.

“For what?”

“For stepping in. If you hadn’t intervened, Angie and I would have had a full-blown argument over Apollo’s name. In front of her brothers and the children, no less.” Ford took a steadying breath. “I can’t help but be enormously grateful that you’ve helped us so much. Not just in supervising the children, but in remedying some of the problems Angie and I had.”

“Hey, I’m doing what I was put on Earth to do,” Stan said firmly. “Help you out.” A smile appeared on Ford’s face, but disappeared just as quickly.

“But can that make you happy?”

“Geez, Debbie Downer, relax.” Stan elbowed his twin. “Your son was just born. On Halloween! Celebrate!”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“I’m fine, Ford. Really.” Stan shrugged Ford’s hand off his shoulder and leaned over Angie’s hospital bed, smiling down at her and Apollo. He didn’t notice the contemplative look that came over Ford as he watched Stan fawn over his sister-in-law and new nephew.

#is that Stan beginning to catch feelings for his sister-in-law? why yes it is!#and the best part: it's MUTUAL #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Lute McGucket #Angie McGucket #Marriage of Convenience AU #ficlet #my writing #speecher speaks

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luffles424 · 4 years

Text

Lucidity (6)

☼ Pairing: BTS x reader (got some Yoongi action this chap 🤪🤪)

☼ Genre: vampire!BTS, succubus!reader, smut, fluff, angst

☼ Count: 4.1K

☼ Warnings: oral (m+f receiving), cum play, cum eating, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, minorish blood play (it’s a vampire fic so like, there’s some feeding), cockwarming, dom!yoongi, clothed sex, grinding, overstimulation, face fucking, minor ball play (it’s pretty tame)

☼ Summary: You’ve spent years jumping from country to country, starting countless new lives. Crafting new lives is as easy as breathing for you, lies flowing easily and people are charmed with a simple bat of your eyes. When you meet a witch who offers the idea of opening a supernatural club, using your powers combined with hers to ensure safety to those who enter, you decide to join her in an adventure that is entirely new to you. But your new life in Seoul is drastically changed when you’re forced to face something you’ve spent centuries hiding from. But just because you might be running for your life again doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun along the way, right?

☼ a/n: I started editing this chapter completely forgetting that the angst has arrived 🤪 As always, let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

(I’ll add masterlist links later bc I’m scared that if I do it now, it’ll disappear from the tags)

You’re tired. You can’t help it. You’ve had so much on your mind lately. The boys wormed their way so effectively under your skin, without you realizing until it was too late. You really should’ve said no to Jungkook that first time, but his wide, eager eyes cracked your walls. Indifference honed by centuries of isolation, all undone by one starry eyed baby vampire.

Jin was true to his word though and talked to the other two boys, at least you assume he did given that they listened to your requests. And they all respected your need for space, which just made you feel all the more guilty for the lies. You could see as much in the way Jungkook’s eyes would sometimes turn sad when he looked at you, the way Jimin would start to suggest something before stopping himself. It was easy to see that they were struggling with this, confusion coloring all their actions with you now.

You know they occasionally still stopped by your place before remembering they weren’t supposed to be there. You should tell security to stop letting them up. But you can’t find it in yourself to do so just yet. It feels like punishment, but you don’t know if for you or for them.

Jin was the only one who had a mask almost as good as yours. You know they wanted to go back to how things were. You’ve thought about just leaving so many times, it’d probably be easier that way. But you just can’t bring yourself to yet. You feel selfish, wanting to keep them in your life when it terrifies you and makes you want to run. They’ve given you a small glimmer of happiness for the first time in a long time. And somehow it feels like it’s already been ripped away from you. Even if you were the one to do the ripping.

You’re drawn out of your musings by the presence of a vampire sitting across from you. You’re immediately on edge and you seriously contemplate the idea of finding a new cafe. This one is clearly cursed. Or at the very least, highly frequented by vampires. Really, if you just left town, you probably wouldn’t have this problem anymore.

Steeling yourself, you look up, confused when you’re met with Yoongi, of all people sitting across from you. He pays you no mind at first, sipping from his own drink as he watches the people pass by. Your thoughts race, what could he possibly want? You and the boys have been incredibly careful lately. There was no one that he found out. But why else would he be here. Because there’s no way that this is just a coincidence, that he happened to come here at the same time as you did. He certainly wouldn’t have sat down like you’re old friends catching up if that were the case. Finally he turns to you, face placid and that puts you even more on edge, no one should be that calm around you after hearing Namjoon’s warnings. What could he possibly want?

“I have a proposition for you.”

A proposition? You blink, that’s certainly not what you expected to come from him. “About?”

“Let me feed from you.”

What. “What?”

You can’t think of literally anything else to say, thoughts ground to a halt with his words. Your mind struggles with the idea, this seems such a strange request and so out of nowhere. You feel like there has to be some sort of ulterior motive or trick here.

“You heard me.”

You make a face. “Of course I did. But why?”

Yoongi shrugs and sips his drink. “I like fresh rather than bagged. Supernatural over human. Convenience over effort to seek out what I need.” He tilts his head like it’s obvious.

“What about Namjoon and what he said?” You don’t know why you’re pushing this so much. But something about his utter nonchalance has you on edge. You feel like if you say yes that Namjoon will pop out and claim that this is enough evidence that you’re bad.

Yoongi shrugs. “If you were a legitimate threat, someone would’ve dealt with you by now. Whatever happened between you and Joon is between you two. I see no reason why we can’t have an arrangement.”

“What do I get out of it? This sounds like it benefits only you.” You let a smirk curl your lips, as off balance as you feel, you don’t want him to know.

Yoongi mulls that over for a few minutes, like he hadn’t even thought of you in this equation. “I’d offer to pay you, but I assume you’ve got more than enough money. I’d offer sex but I’m not really looking for that, just blood. It helps me concentrate and write.” He taps his chin in thought.

That catches your attention though. If he’s not looking for sex but still needs your time then... “I’ll do it.”

He looks surprised. “What? What happened to what’s in it for you?”

If more of your time is taken with Yoongi, that means there’s less time for the others. And that is actually the best thing Yoongi could do for you, even if he doesn’t know it. And if he isn’t looking for sex, then that means there will be even less attachment between the two of you. No chance for your heart to ache every time you meet with him if all he’s doing is feeding. A simple arrangement. You could do that. That’s the best possible outcome here.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “If you’d like to continue to try to find something to give me, then I can take it back and you’re more than welcome to continue.”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head, his cool facade cracking for the first time since he sat down. Seems he isn’t so suave all the time then. It’s kind of adorable that he put up such a front just to talk to you. It reminds you of the first time Jin came over and the act he put on. “No! No, that’s fine. I’ll take it. Thank you.” He slides his phone over to you and you enter your number into it. He smiles down at it as he stands. “I’ll text you when I’m hungry. Bye.”

He waves and walks off. You watch him go. You tug your phone out, scrolling through your contacts. If you were about to take on a 4th vampire to feed, you needed to go feed yourself first.

Yoongi wastes no time in calling for your services. You wonder just how thirsty he was to have contacted you already. And you find his enthusiasm endearing, the few messages you exchange refreshing. A conversation you can have that’s not consumed by guilt and heartache. He gives you the location of the hotel he wants to meet at and you have to laugh because it’s the same one you use. When you meet, he feeds only from your wrist, the least intimate place possible and for that you’re incredibly grateful.

You and Yoongi don’t meet too often, at least not too often by feeding standards, although Yoongi’s older and so he can last longer between feedings than the younger ones like Jungkook. But you can always tell when it’s a group day off because Yoongi is usually the first to message you out of the four of them that you have contact with. Beneficial for you because then you can tell the others that you made plans already. They don’t even bother to hide their hurt and disappointment anymore and it’s a twist of the knife everytime. You wonder how they’d feel if they knew it was their own member taking you away from them. Not that you would ever tell them that you and Yoongi were also meeting.

It becomes very apparent, very quickly, that Yoongi is a creature of habit, he calls once a week, sometimes every other week if they’re busy. You meet at the hotel, he feeds from your wrist with no preamble then gives you a lazy smile as he leaves, always (very un)sneakily leaving behind a bag of food to eat. It’s the only indication that he doesn’t want this to be one-sided. And you assume he never brings it up because he knows it’d make you feel uncomfortable to acknowledge what he’s doing. You ignore the warm feeling it gives you when he starts to figure out what you do and don’t like, though you’re really not sure how he’s managing to do that.

Your arrangement with Yoongi changes though, you should’ve known it would, arrangements like this are always bound to at some point or another. He tells you to come to the company, something not even the others had ever dared to do. You immediately tell him no, the likelihood of crossing Joon was far too high there. And every worst possibility runs through your mind at even the mere mention of going and possibly seeing him. But Yoongi assures you that Joon was out of town because they had a long weekend. When you still express your unease, he adds that all the boys were out of town for the break, he had remained only because he wanted to work on some songs. Which is why he wants you to come to the studio, he needs a boost to help him think.

You finally relent, agreeing to come to the studio as long as he swears that it’s deserted. He greets you at the building entrance with a gummy grin.

“Thanks for coming.” He says as he leads you through the empty halls to his studio.

He gestures for you to sit once you enter and you’re confused as he makes his way over to his desk. You frown, watching him sit and begin working. You thought he needed a boost. This is so different from your usual and you feel a bit of unease creep in.

“I thought you wanted to feed?”

Yoongi waves a hand dismissively. “I do, but in a bit.”

You make a face. “Well why didn’t you just call me then?”

He turns and gives you a quick smirk, his eyes drag up your form before he’s turning back to the computer. “Cause I’d much rather have you waiting here for when I need you.”

You swallow, looking away. That was… different than how he usually treats you. Far from the quick interactions, jokes, and sweetness you’ve come to expect. But you pull out your phone, entertaining yourself while you wait for him, ignoring the unease and slight thrill that settles in your belly. After a while, Yoongi groans in irritation and you perk up. That seems like a good sign, you can get what you came here over with and head out. Even if Yoongi said that no one was here, you still don’t want to stick around for too long just to be safe. He turns his body slightly towards you, hand held out but he doesn’t look at you, gaze remaining focused on the program on his screen.

“Come here.”

“You could say please you know.” You quip, not moving.

He turns to you, eyes hard and unamused, completely different from the guy who usually cracks a joke after drinking from you. You feel yourself get wet from the look alone. “I said, come here.”

You swallow, standing and adjusting your skirt as you cross the small distance to him. He grabs your hand one you’re within reach and tugs you into his lap. You yelp as you land, knees framing his thighs. He manhandles you into the position he wants, nosing along your neck with a growl. You shudder and he wastes no time sinking his fangs into your neck.

You gasp, hips instinctively grinding down against him. This position makes it hard to remember that Yoongi only feeds from you, but the change to your neck has pleasure hazing your thoughts. Yoongi grabs your ass, encouraging your grinding as he drinks from you and you feel him harden beneath you. You moan at the friction as his hands tighten on your hips. He pulls away finally, licking your neck clean and then his hands leave you to shove his pants down enough to get his cock out.

You lick your lips, he’s hard and leaking as he gives his dick a few strokes, grin cocky when he sees your hungry gaze.

He flips the edge of your skirt up and hums in approval. “I like this choice.” He frowns at your underwear though before grabbing them and quickly ripping them off to toss to the side. “There. Much better.”

You pout. “I liked those.”

He pulls you in for a messy kiss, lining himself up and sinking into you. “I’ll buy you more.” He murmurs against your lips.

He gives a few shallow thrusts that leave you moaning and then he’s hooking his chin onto your shoulder. He doesn’t move for a moment and it takes you a moment to realize that he’s gone back to working. With his dick sheathed in your pussy. You squirm and one hand leaves the keyboard to dig into your ass.

“Behave, babygirl.” He hisses and you clench at his tone.

You pout, forced to stare at the headrest now. You want to squirm again, but he has yet to remove the hand holding you still. “But Yoongi.” You whine.

His nails dig into your skin and you feel yourself leak around his cock. He seems bizarrely unphased by your soaked pussy clinging to his cock. You’d think he’s completely uninterested if not for the fact that he’s still very much hard. “If you behave, you’ll get a reward, babygirl.” He soothes. “But if you keep squirming and preventing me from working, I’m gonna have to punish you. Is that what you want?”

You shake your head slightly. You actually don’t think you’d mind the punishment. But this is already enough torture, Yoongi’s venom still potent in your veins and his cock filling you so well. You sit quietly, every so often Yoongi will shift and you have to bury your face in his neck to keep any noise from escaping. Every slight shit from him and twitch of his dick has you biting your lip. You really don’t know how he’s managed to stay hard this long when he’s focused solely on his music. It’s starting to drive you insane. You wonder if you could chance it and just ride him, distract him quick enough that he won’t even think about punishing you. But Yoongi’s control seems much stronger and you don’t think you could get away with that. At least not for long enough to cum before he stopped you.

You can only sit still for so long though, trying your best to shift subtly and hope he doesn’t notice. You fail, if the way his hands move to grab your waist is anything to go by. He pushes his chair back just slightly and you take that to mean it’s safe to lean back. You look at him and he looks thoroughly amused.

“Thought I said to not move?”

You pout, wrapping your hands around his shoulders and fiddling with the hair at the nap of his neck. “But I didn’t.”

He hums, but you can see that he doesn’t believe you at all. “You’re in luck cause I’m done working for the moment so I can give my babygirl all the attention she wants.”

You feel your face heat at his words. “Well maybe I don’t want it now.”

He chuckles and it sends shivers down your spine. He fingers dip between the two of you, lightly brushing your clit, your mouth drops open slightly. He lifts them back up between you both and arches an eyebrow at you as his fingers glisten with your wetness.

“You sure about that statement babygirl?”

“That’s not fair. You got me all worked up and then just left me to sit here.” You whine, you feel slightly delirious.

He tuts, licking his fingers clean before resting his hands on your thighs. “I said I had some work to finish. I’m done now so I’m all yours. What do you want, babygirl?” He gives your thighs a squeeze.

You ponder that for a moment. Not that you really need to, you know exactly what you want. But the pause gives you the chance to clench your pussy and watch the twitch in Yoongi’s jaw with satisfaction that he really is just as affected as you. “I want to cum.”

“And just how do you want to do that?”

“On your cock.” When he doesn’t say anything else, just sits there looking calm and collected, you wiggle impatiently in his lap, done with being forced to wait. “Yoongi, please.”

He smirks, feet shifting and then his hands are sliding up to your hips to lift you almost all the way off his cock before dropping you back down. You bite your lip to stifle your moan.

His lips brush your ear. “This is a recording studio babygirl, it’s soundproof. Be loud for me.”

He controls your movements for a few moments before letting you finally take over, riding him hard and fast. You briefly worry about the precariousness of fucking in a rolling chair. But that problem is solved when he stands, cock still buried inside you and sets your ass on his desk, giving him the leverage and control to fuck you even harder. Your fingers bunch in the fabric of his shirt, feeling powerless to do much else aside from holding on.

Yoongi must have been more worked up than he was letting on because his thrusts grow rough and sloppy quickly and he groans as he cums, cock buried to the hilt in you. Your protest at the lack of your own orgasm quickly dies on your tongue, as soon as Yoongi finishes cuming, he’s pulling out and dropping to his knees between your spread thighs. He wastes no time or teasing, leaning in to lick up his own cum as it slowly starts to drip out of your pussy, dragging it up to smear around your clit and make everything even wetter.

He cleans his cum from you, thumbs spreading your pussy wide and tongue slipping as far as it can go to get ever drop and when he’s finally satisfied, his lips wrap around your clit and his fingers fill your pussy instead. He fucks you with his fingers, tongue swirling around your clit and under his ministrations you quickly reach your own high, cumming with a cry of his name, hands burying themselves in his hair.

You’re still shuddering with aftershocks when Yoongi unceremoniously tugs his fingers free, shoving his cock, rock hard once again, back in. You gasp, overly sensative as Yoongi starts to fuck you hard. Tears prick your eyes, pussy feeling abused but your sensitivity is quick to fade back to pleasure. His fingers find your clit, working with his thrusts to build your high back up, much faster than the first time. You’re nearly blindsided by how quickly he’s gotten you worked up again.

“You did say that you wanted to cum on my cock right?” His grin is cocky, but the way his eyes dip down to your pussy shows just how much he’s also enjoying this. “Come on, babygirl.”

His lips brush against yours and you cum with a moan, walls spasming around Yoongi’s cock. Yoongi swears, thrusts slowing and lets you ride out your second orgasm in a slightly more tame way than the first. When your shuddering stops, he slips out of you and takes a step back.

“On your knees for me babygirl.”

You blink at him for a moment, panting, before obediently sliding to your knees before him. You’re glad he wanted you on your knees because you’re ot 100% sure if you could stand right now. He nods approvingly, shuffling closer. You wrap one hand around his cock, giving him a few pumps before wrapping your lips around the tip, tasting the mix of him and you. He groans, hands finding purchase in your hair. You bob your head, licking the taste of yourself off of him until only the taste of Yoongi remains. He lets you move at your own pace for a bit before his hands tighten in your hair, halting you. You glance up at him, confusion in your eyes.

He thrusts shallowly into your mouth. “Think you can take me fucking your mouth babygirl?”

You hum, hand dropping from his cock to rest on his thigh. You’d smirk if your mouth wasn’t full. Does he really think you couldn’t take this? You raise an eyebrow in challenge. He chuckles, mutters something under his breath that you don’t catch before he’s thrusting a little deeper. He meets the back of your throat and pulls back before thrusting in and pushing further until your nose is pressed to his belly. He holds there for a moment and you swallow around him. Swearing, he pulls out and starts a tame rhythm fucking your mouth.

As his pace picks up, spit drips from the corners of your mouth, dampening the front of your shirt. Tears collect and fall when he holds himself completely buried in your throat, completely cutting off your air supply, but certain supernatural perks allow him to hold himself buried and feel your throat constrict around him longer than if you were human. You move one hand, reaching up to tug slightly at his balls, earning you an even louder curse and a sudden thrust.

Encouraged, you give them another tug before palming them. Yoongi’s thrusts grow more erratic the more you roll his balls and you reach a little farther to press your fingers to his perineum, which has him groaning as he spills down your throat. He slowly slides out, flopping back into his chair, breathless. You lick your lips slowly, winking at him as he watches the path your tongue traces to clean up any final traces of his cum.

He groans, throwing his head back. “No more, please. I can’t go again right now.”

You giggle and he scoots forward, snatching a few tissues from his desk. You expect him to just hand them to you but he surprises you by gently cleaning your face for you, a soft smile on his lips. You swallow at the sudden nerves, trying to also ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Once he finishes, you stand quickly, adjusting your skirt and turning to shoot him a murderous look when you realize you’ll be leaving here with one less item of clothing.

He smiles innocently. “Problem?”

You glare. “You better have a new pair for me soon.”

“Maybe. You’ll have to earn them.”

You huff, turning to the mirror hung on the wall to try to fix your face and hair as much as you can. There may be no one in the building, but people on the street is a totally different story. Yoongi walks you to the door, holding it open for you. He grabs your arm, halting you from leaving. You turn back to him, head tilted in confusion. It’s the first time all night that he’s looked anything other than the picture of calm. He looks nervous.

“I’m sorry that this was kinda sprung on you. I didn’t intend for it to happen.” He rubs his neck sheepishly. “I guess I was a little more stressed than I thought.”

You laugh and pinch his cheek. He really apologizing for giving a sex demon sex? Adorable. “It’s okay. It was fun.” You wink at him then pause. “Can... I ask why now though? And not before? Just curious.”

Yoongi blushes and looks at his feet. “Ah, nerves?”

You laugh. “Nerves? About what? Being good at sex?”

He makes a face when he looks back at you. “Listen, your whole thing is sex. That’s intimidating. And I didn’t know if I’d have time for anything more than quick stops to feed. So it was easier to just start with feeding and wait until I was more comfortable.”

You pat his cheek. “Guess you got there, huh?”

He bats your hand away. “Go away. I take back everything I said. You’re a pest.”

You laugh and blow him a kiss as you start down the hallway. “We both know that was a lie. See ya Yoongi.”

You leave, pleasantly buzzed on endorphins and mind just fuzzy enough that you don’t have to think too hard at what this change might mean in the future. You completely miss the fact that you and Yoongi weren’t there alone.

#bangtanarmynet #magicshopnet #btsguild #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi smut #vampire bts #vampire yoongi #bts #au #yoongi au #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #vampire au #lucidity au

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loveafterthefact · 3 years

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Love After the Fact Chapter 73: Care and After

Keith and Lance have to wait two movements to take a pregnancy test. In the meantime, Keith recuperates and some actual work gets done.

And I finally stop shitting on Krolia quite so much, bc I'm nice like that 😇

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Krolia stops by while Keith is in a deep sleep, offering the excuse that she’s bringing them more food and returning BleepBloop. Once she’s made her excuse plausible, the offerings placed in the cellar beneath the remaining packages she’d given them a movement ago, she admits her true purpose with a question.

“How is he?”

“He’s fine,” Lance murmurs, brushing hair out of Keith's face. He pushes one foot rhythmically against the wall, letting their hanging bed sway gently back and forth. “The night before last, he had some trouble holding his fever. I ended up putting him in a hot bath. Then last night, his fever broke fully.”

“When his fever dropped the first time, was it a false break or just a drop in temperature?”

“No… It was my fault. It got really cold out, and I forgot to feed the fire. He couldn’t keep up. He was still having chills, and was slightly lucid. He suggested I run him a bath. I don’t think he remembers, though.”

“A dip in fever is pretty normal for a first season. Galra are never as strong their first time around. You handled it well.”

“Mhm. I missed him, though.” Lance smiles, gaze soft as it travels over Keith’s face. “He’s my friend. My ‘Person’, y’know? And I’m his ‘Person’... I don’t know. It just- It felt like he wasn’t here anymore. Obviously, I’ll still be here for him every time, however he wants me, but I think I’ll always like it better when he’s being rude and demanding. Or complaining.”

The Altean’s mouth quirks. “I’m sure I’ll get an earful about something or other when he wakes.”

That quirk rises into a grin. He loves it when Keith gives him a hard time. It’s one of his ways of showing his love, and that he’s comfortable with him. It’s one of Lance’s favorite things.

Keith stirs in his sleep, whimpers against Lance’s throat. Long brown fingers slide up to his ear, massaging the base in just the right spot. Practiced. Caring.

When he glances up to the silent woman, she’s watching, expression perfectly neutral. When she speaks, it’s not bitter, only quiet. “Why couldn’t you be what I wanted you to be?”

“Do you know, I think you’re the first person to ask me that to my face? Most people I meet just give underhanded comments about whatever aspect of myself they take issue with.” Keith settles against him once more, sinking deeper into sleep with a sigh. Lance takes a moment to smile at him. “But either way, it doesn’t matter. I am who I am, and what I am, and if there’s one thing I’ll never apologize for, it’s that.”

Lance tips his forehead to rest against Keith’s. “He calls me his ‘good man’. I need to live up to that.”

“You’d fucking better.” The woman sighs. “I need to get back up to the compound. Take good care of him for me.”

“You have my word.”

“So… My arm is dead. And your hair is in my mouth.”

“That sounds like a You Problem,” Keith mumbles, even as he shifts in a weak attempt to restore blood flow to Lance’s arm.

“The burdens of being the big spoon,” Lance murmurs, kissing the back of Keith’s neck while subtly trying to get fur out of his mouth. “Feeling any better? You’ve been sleeping all day.”

“A little. Guess I’ll sleep some more, take a bath, eat something, and then…”

“Find a way to keep busy for two movements?”

“Yeah.” Keith finds Lance’s hand slung over his waist, grips it tight. “I know I shouldn’t make such a fuss about this. It’s all chance, not a big deal if we’re not pregnant, but-”

“It is a big deal. Either way, this is going to dictate how the next few phoebs will go, or the rest of our lives. It’s an especially big deal for you, I know. All those social pressures and everything. But it’s ten quintants. We’ll get through it together, just like we do everything else, okay?”

“Okay.” A restless quiet stretches between them. “I need a bath.”

“You really, really do. Would you like me to run one for you?”

“Rude. But yes, please and thank you.”

“Trust me, I need one too.” Lance gets up, ignoring Keith’s grumbling when he does. “I’ll go first. You go back to sleep, or get a snack, okay?”

The prince kisses his cheek, sets one of Krolia’s leaf-meals next to him on their bed. Keith groans, not at all in the mood to return the affection. He’s so grumpy when he’s tired…

Ancients, Lance loves him.

When Keith finally emerges from the den, he’s freshly bathed, long, thick hair still dripping, hanging loose down his bare back. He’s a bit self-conscious, having noticed almost immediately that he’s lost a noticeable amount of weight.

Lance, while (suspiciously) vocal of his appreciation for Krolia giving them food, is cooking them some fresh fish out front, complete with bread and vegetables. Keith notices that there’s definitely extra food there, no doubt in an effort to stuff him full of nutrients.

“Hey.”

“Hey- Hi. How are you?” Lance searches him earnestly, looking for clues.

“I feel like shit. But you probably figured that. Also, my head hurts from keeping my hair braided for so long.”

“Yes, I figured that. Do you want me to dry your hair for you?”

“Yes, please. But leave it loose.” Keith hands him a towel, sitting beside him on the ground. “I could swear I almost forgot what the sky looked like.”

“Well, right now it looks gloomy.” It does indeed, overcast and thundering. The world is cast in grey light, leeching the bright reds from the earth. Lance gently squeezes water from Keith’s hair, glancing regularly at their dinner to avoid burning anything. “Apparently, the storm ‘system’ that came over when your season started is still passing over.”

“Yeah, it happens this time of year. We’re nearing the monsoon season.”

“I thought you didn’t have seasons.”

“We do, but not temperature-y seasons. We have rainy seasons, dry seasons, harvest seasons, rutting seasons, lots of different seasons, but we definitely don’t have winter.”

“Rutting seasons?”

“The elk. They start bugling and mating and all that stuff. Then they calve, and the wolves have their pups.” Keith lifts his eyes to the heavy clouds. “It’s good you’re cooking now. It’s going to rain again in just a little bit.”

Lance finishes, leaving Keith’s hair ever so slightly damp, but at least no longer dripping. The Galra disappears back into the den, comes out with their cloaks instead of the towel. Lance sighs with relief, grateful for the warmth as a chilled breeze tumbles over them. Keith snuggles close, rests his head on Lance’s shoulder.

“Thanks for taking care of me. You did a good job.”

“Aw, thanks, beloved. It was my pleasure.” The rain finally starts, and Lance sighs. “I hope our food’s done.”

“Seriously. I want to eat everything right now.” Keith grabbed the cast iron pan of vegetables while Lance pulled the rolls from the stone oven and grabbed the fish, sliding them off the roasting sticks and into the vegetable pan.

“If not, I’ll make a fire inside and finish it for us. Come on.”

They’re inside just as it starts pouring.

“So… When do we start thinking about names for our kits?” Keith sets their food by the inside fireplace, gets a fire going to keep it warm.

“Uh… I’m not sure.” Lance peels off his wet shirt, dropping it on the floor. “My grandmother dictated my and Allura’s name before my mother was even of legal age. Depending on which characters you use, ‘Lancel’ means ‘paladin’ and ‘providence’, or it can mean ‘bloody ruler’.”

“Well that’s a bit on the nose.” Keith scoops BleepBloop into his arms, scratching his little belly. “Which characters do you use?”

“My grandmother was an extremely unpleasant person. I suspect she wished for ‘bloody ruler’, but she died before I was born. My father chose ‘paladin’ and ‘providence’, most likely to spite her... What does your name mean?” Lance’s head pops out of a fresh shirt.

“No idea. I’d have to go to Earth to find that out, and no one alive knows where it is. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Do you want our kits to be like you?” Keith pulls a bread roll from the tray, tearing off half and handing it to Lance. He’ll start out slow, so he doesn’t get nauseous, but Keith’s determined to start gaining weight as quickly as he can. ‘Just in case’, as with most everything he does these days. He’s even dialed back on his training, choosing not to resume his sessions with the Blade following the end of his season.

“I’d rather they be like you. I’m untested, and have little in the way of practical skills. You’ve proven your resilience, and your strength. I want them to have that.” Lance throws himself down in his chair by the table.

“I hope they have your mercy,” Keith whispers. He hops up to sit on the table, planting one of his feet between Lance’s legs. “Your balance. Your ability to learn something new. To listen… You teach them how to be charismatic and leader-y, and I’ll teach them how to kill without remorse and make a shelter and fire starting with two sticks.”

“Oh, Ancients! They’ll be unstoppable!” Lance laughs, scales glowing with humor.

“As long as they’re better than Seran and Renli’s kits, I’ll be happy.”

“That is an incredibly low bar, beloved.” Lance laughs, kissing Keith’s knee.

“Yeah… They deserve higher expectations. Not the best, because that’s not fair, or our best, because that’s fucking stupid, but I want them to be their best, and always strive to improve. Like you.”

“Like us.” Lance smiles. “And I absolutely agree. The other side of that is that it’s up to us to figure out how our children can use their various strengths and weaknesses to succeed in the high-ranking positions they’ll eventually hold.”

“You’re Alfor-ing,” Keith mutters. “You mean we’ll take an interest in our children and be invested in their lives because we’re their parents. We’ll encourage them to pursue their passions and apply them in a way that befits their status, because we love them and are involved in their lives.”

“Oh. Right…” Lance’s ears droop just a little. He looks sad. Probably because Lance never had a parent do that for him.

“Hey.” Keith nudges the inside of Lance’s thigh with his toe. When those blue-and-pink eyes meet his face, Keith’s mind draws a blank. What does he say to someone who’s just been painfully reminded of the neglect he’s experienced? “I love you.”

Lance cracks a smile. “I love you, too.”

“You’re important to me.”

“You’re important to me, too.” Lance sighs. “Can I have a hug?”

Keith smiles, sliding off the table into Lance’s lap, straddling him as he drapes his arms over the man’s shoulders. “Absolutely.”

Keith kisses his mate, careful to work a smile into it. He forgets sometimes just how desperate Lance is to break his family’s cycle, just how afraid he must be of following in his father’s footsteps (or lack thereof). To Keith, Lance is the man who can’t wait to be a father, who’s champing at the bit to be a king. He’s the man who wants to fix everything, even if he knows it’s not possible.

Tipping forward, Lance rests his head against Keith’s collarbone, and Keith twines fingers in his hair.

“My good man, don’t be sad.” Keith kisses, lays his cheek against his head. “You’re going to be amazing, I just know it.”

“I know.” The Altean draws in a great breath. “I know. I just-”

“Shh…” Keith rubs circles into Lance’s back, somewhat alarmed by his mate’s sudden distress. “We’ll do great, my love. I know it.”

“But why couldn’t he?” Lance whispers, voice trembling dangerously. Keith’s hands freeze. “I wanted it so badly.”

“I don’t know why. But you so deserved it.” Keith’s comforting skills reach their limit. “It’s one of the many reasons I want to punch him in his stupid face.”

Lance laughs, kisses the side of Keith’s neck. “There’s the Keith I know and love.”

“Sorry. I suck at comforting people.”

“It’s okay. You’re amazing at comforting me.” Lance pulls back, smiles up at the man in his lap, eyes rimmed with just a bit of red. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Keith leans down, kisses him deeply, hands cradling his face, thumbs sliding over his scales. Lance’s hands find their way under his thighs, lifting him up as he stands, setting him back on the table.

“Mm, how much do you love me?”

“Aren’t you sick of me yet?”

“Never. Not ever.”

Keith believes his mate, one hundred percent. Not just because Lance’s hands are still on him, but because he just does.

That doesn’t at all mean that he can’t mess with the man a little.

“We should confront your daddy issues more often.”

“Rude!”

Quintants later, Lance and Keith have found something to keep them busy: their duties. After movements of neglect, Lanval reports that the people miss them, finding Alfor and Coran (mostly Alfor), less approachable. As a result, the pair are wandering through the imperial library, researching methods of population control and agricultural sustainability. Growth and capacity are constantly at war.

Krolia is on her own ‘research’ mission: how the fuck do Alteans actually think?

“Gentlemen.” Krolia nods as she approaches Shiro and Adam’s table on the other end of the library. “How are you?”

“Well enough,” Shiro says. Adam doesn’t respond, busy composing a message to an associate, named Lanval. Apparently this ‘Lanval’ serves as a sort of spy for the princes, keeping tabs on the general concerns and opinions of the commonwealth and court. “You?”

Krolia hums, lounging in a free chair. “I learned something quite interesting today.” Shiro hums. Adam momentarily lifts his gaze. “It would seem that Crown Prince Lancel isn’t quite what I imagined.”

“Mnh. sounds about right.” Adam doesn’t seem to care how useless his comment is. “How exactly did you finally come to that conclusion?”

“He said he missed Keith while he was in season.”

“Ah.” Adam finally tears his attention away from his desktop, smile more of a smirk than anything else. “He would. He’s sentimental like that.”

“I assumed he liked it any way he could get it, but it seems otherwise.”

“It’s an Altean thing, I think,” Shiro says. “They’re a reserved species, but generally respectful toward their spouses, despite their promiscuity. They can also be very playful with their mates, particularly in private. I’ve observed Keith engaging in playful banter with Lance on more than one occasion. I imagine Lance values that.”

“Lance values what?” Keith peeks his head around a bookshelf.

“You’re affectionate degradation of his character,” Adam says, smiling at the young prince. “Apparently he missed you during your season.”

Keith snorts. “What a dork.” The prince snatches up a scroll. “Hey, dork!”

“Yes, beloved?!” Lance calls from a different aisle.

“You’re a dork!”

“And you’re stuck with me, so what does that make you?” Lance rounds a corner. “Come help me with this. Apparently one of our mines on Arus is compromised. We need to write an emergency missive to close it, because apparently neither the colony nor the natives have the authority to halt production.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Keith frowns.

“We can revisit native citizens’ rights after we get them and our colonists out of dangerous mines, okay?”

“So long as we revisit it… Guess we’d better get to work. Also, we should bring back some windchimes for Hunk’s new kit. Kits love them.”

Krolia watches the two head off to wherever their desk is, Lance taking Keith’s hand, the two bickering back and forth about which one of them is more of a dork. Keith’s tail curls around the altean prince’s ankle, ultimately preventing his escape as he drives a hand into the man’s white hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions.

The prince’s shrieks carry throughout the quiet room.

Adam props his head on his fist, eyeing Shiro with amusement. “Any other anthropological observations you’d like to share, captain?”

“You’re not as chilly as you want everyone to think.”

“Excuse me?” Adam glares, bristling.

“Settle down.” Shiro sips his tea. “I was speaking of your entire species, not you. Though it is interesting that you-”

“Stop talking, or I will make you.”

Krolia settles back in her chair, watching the pair banter themselves, though not in nearly as boisterous a fashion. But before long, her eyes and ears slide in the direction of her son and his problematic mate.

It’s long been her belief that the best thing someone could be is someone like Akira. Someone who’s equal parts frustrated and optimistic, and not above putting their foot down and digging their heels in like a stubborn child. Able to learn, able to understand, able to reach out and extend themselves to others, no matter how different.

Creeping up to observe the pair, watching Lance pour over documents and old, outdated policy, Krolia can’t help but realize that the young Altean is in many ways quite similar to her own mate, right down to the way he’s always giving Keith at least a modicum of his attention, even if it’s to annoy him.

She hates to admit it, but her son could do much, much worse.

With that in mind, Krolia approaches the boys' table. "Have you investigated inspection and mining maintenance procedures and regulations? Perhaps there is some underlying cause."

Lance leans back in his chair, eyeing her carefully. Finally he nods. "I haven't." There's so much caution in his eyes. "Perhaps you'd like to assist with this? We'd appreciate it."

Krolia nods, waiting for Lance to transfer the appropriate documents. A quick scan reveals the problem. "This is extremely outdated, given our peoples' current understanding of physics and changes in mining practices. Let me pulls some documents and I can help you boys draft something new."

Keith wraps his hands around Lance's arm, whispers something in his ear. Lance smiles, nods. "If you would, we'd be very grateful. If you can do that, then we can come up with a plan to help implement new procedures, and provide any resources needed to transition to more appropriate protocols."

It's an unspoken thing, the way Lance gestures for her to sit at their table upon her return, the way he makes room for her books beside his own. When Keith makes tea, there are three cups. When they call for a servant to bring them food, Lance requests three meals. A simple choice -her simple, agonizing choice- means that once again, Krolia has an open seat at her son's table.

She doesn't miss how Lance nudges Keith, the silent look they share. She doesn't miss Keith's smile as he turns back to his letter.

Worth it.

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

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