#when they don't get it instinctively like he does
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executive orders
words: 3.8k
warnings: 18+ only, ceo!rafe, assistant!reader, mean!rafe but equally mean!reader lol, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pretend marriage (like fake dating but fake marriage hehe)
“so…” the woman says, heels clicking down the pristine hallway as you quickly follow. “as you were told in the interview process, mr. cameron is a very particular man. as his personal assistant, your focus is more on his well-being than the business.”
“okay, i understand.” you nod. you find the whole thing odd. the interview process where you didn't actually meet the man you'd be the personal assistant to. his semi nondescript job. ceo. of some company named after him, but you don't know the specifics on what his role actually includes.
“just know…” she pauses outside of the large door leading into the room. “this isn't going to be an easy job. it's why you're making a lot of money.”
“okay.” you say again. the more you learn, the more concerned you are, but you're willing to try, even if just for one day.
“and you're paid for through the cfo. mr. cameron does not have firing rights no matter what he says.”
you're not sure what she means, but it becomes very apparent when the moment you step through the door, the man you presume to be mr. cameron let's out a growl.
“serena, i told you i don't need a fucking babysitter!” you turn around, but the door has already been shut behind you. you can hear serenas heels clicking quickly down the hallway. you had completely forgotten her name in the stress of your first day, but you commit it to memory before turning to the ceo.
“hello, sir.” you say quietly. “im y/n.”
“i don't need you.” he grunts out before focusing on his computer, typing rather angry and aggressively. you stand frozen, waiting.
“i said i don't need you. leave. you're fired.” mr. cameron says.
“i um… i don't think you can fire me. sorry, sir.”
his fingers pause as he looks up at you, seeming to finally really see you as his eyes move down then back up your body. you weren't sure what to wear so you're dressed in a black work dress with long sleeves and a pair of flats. under his watchful eye, you wish you would have worn something less form fitting.
“i hate being called sir.” he says.
“okay, mr. cameron then.” you take a few shuffling steps forward.
“rafe.” he shakes his head. “just rafe. mr. cameron is my fucking dad and he's dead.”
your instinct is to say sorry for his loss, but you can't find the words, which ultimately seems to be the right thing as rafe hums then turns back to his computer screen.
you watch him work for a few minutes, occasionally looking around the sparsely decorated office. you swear every time you look away, rafes eyes move up to look at you, but by the time your gaze travels back to him, he's back typing on his computer.
“goddamn it.” he groans out. “don't just stand there all day. if you're gonna be here and i can't fire you, you might as well sit down.”
“oh!” it takes you a minute to realize he's talking to you as his eyes don't stray away from the screen, but then you're quickly moving to sit on the chair positioned on the other side of his desk.
you sit again, watching rafe, watching the clock, watching the view out the window. “what would you like for lunch, si-rafe?”
“whatever.” he waves his hand. “it's not your job to get it. someone will bring lunch to us.”
“oh.” you nod, becoming increasingly more aware that you're not really sure what your job is.
just like rafe said, someone brings in lunch at exactly 12:30, one tray for you and one for rafe.
when he closes his computer, you think that now will finally be the time to talk, but he eats in silence. “so-”
“no small talk.” rafe says. “i hate that shit.”
“well, what is it you'd like me to do then? just sit here? at least give me a task.”
“fine.” rafe grunts out. “when you're finished eating you can read through this report.” he tosses a thick three ringed binder onto the desk in front of you.
“fine.” you argue back, quickly scarfing down your food before grabbing the binder.
you read through the report. you have no clue what the numbers mean, but you do find a couple punctuation mistakes and highlight them. rafe seems surprised you have any notes at all, his eyebrows raising when you grab the marker from his desk.
“there.” you place the binder down once you reach the last page. its tedious work, but at least it's something other than utter silence.
“great.” rafe takes the binder and tosses it into the trash can.
“hey!”
“those were numbers from four years ago.” you can see the smirk on rafes features, his amusement at getting you to do something completely pointless.
“you're a real dick, you know?” you say, blurting the words out before you can think of the consequences, it's not like you want to keep the job anyways.
rafe sits silently, but his eyes are on you, hands frozen as you continue on.
“you should hear the way people talk about you. everyone is afraid of you, which you may think makes you a macho boss, but it just makes you a shitty guy to work for. no wonder you have to pay everyone two times more than any other company around here, they need that for putting up with your rudeness.” you rant, suddenly sucking in air as your words come to an end.
“it's 5pm. done for the day. ill walk you out.” rafe stands, but you move quicker, pushing the doors open and leaving him to walk behind.
you stop when you see serena and the cfo quietly chatting. you open your mouth to say you quit when rafe speaks from behind you.
“i like this one. make sure she's here tomorrow by 9am.”
you turn and look to him, but he's already walking away.
--
you weren't planning on showing back up, but serena is a convincing woman.
“good morning, rafe.” you place a drink carrier down onto the corner of his desk, plucking out your mocha before schooching the rest towards him. “i didn't know what you like. i got a hot black coffee, a caramel frappe and the a cappuccino.”
rafe stares at the drinks before picking up the frappe. you smile, you should have predicted that despite his hard exterior, rafe liked a sweet drink.
serena gave you the company card, saying to use it for any and all expenses, even grocery's or home decor, she didn't care, as long as you entered the building by 9 am tomorrow.
“i know you hate small talk, but you'll have to get over it. what does this company even do?” you take a sip of your mocha, the taste chocolatey on your tongue.
“we are a development company. real estate all across the world. we also manage construction.”
“oh.” you frown. “that's more boring than i thought.”
rafe let's out a soft chuckle, pleasant sounding to your ears.
“everything just seems so secretive.” you shrug.
“i think they didn't want you to know a lot in case you turned down the job. you're the longest an assistant has lasted.”
“and what…” you lean in, ignoring that it's only your second day. “exactly am i supposed to do?”
“just… keep me in check.” rafe shrugs. “i have a tendency to get angry. bad news will get passed through you. you're here to be a sounding board, where i can vent and bounce ideas off of.”
“i make 100k a year for that?” you scoff.
“i think 50 of that is just for dealing with me.”
you laugh along with rafe. maybe you'll end up lasting an entire week.
-- two months later --
“are you free this weekend?” rafe asks.
“uh, yeah, why?” you question. you've learned rafe likes when you stand up to him, speak your mind and not let him push you around like he does everyone else. he's come to respect you for it, and it's made work much easier.
“im needed in new york city. id like for you to come with me. as my assistant.”
“sure, ill start looking for hotels.” you open up your laptop.
“spare no cost. i want somewhere nice.”
you roll your eyes dramatically. “of course you do.”
you already knew to look only at 5 star hotels, the most expensive of the lot. despite the short notice, you find two connecting suites that will work for you and rafe.
“and how are we getting there?” you ask. “want me to talk to jeffery about taking the private jet?”
“yup, i want to fly into laguardia, not jfk.”
“got it.” you nod, finding the correct number in your phone before stepping out to talk. you confirm all the details, jotting down times in the notes app on your phone.
you stop by after the phone call to update serena of your plans, learning she's a secretary of sort for the whole company, really the number two right behind rafe.
“hey girl.” you smile. “heading to nyc with mr. cameron for the weekend.”
“oh, good.” she sighs happily. “he's been needing to go out there.”
“yeah.” you shrug. “if you say so!” you keep yourself firmly out of the business side, just like she told you your first day here.
“make sure you do something fun while you're there too. while he's in meetings you could see times square, or check out central park.”
“i definitely will! i want to see the cherry blossoms if they're still in bloom.”
“sounds fun.” serena nods before her desk phone begins to read. “sorry, gotta get this.”
“see ya.” you wave as you walk back to rafes office.
“all good?” he questions.
“laguardia, just as you want.” you smile, sitting back at your upgraded chair.
“don't know what id do without ya.” rafe says.
“don't be nice to me.” you scrunch your name up. “it's weird.”
--
“how were the cherry blossoms?” rafe asks.
“most of them still in bloom, actually.” you say with a soft smile. you ended up taking a lot of pictures along with exploring the rest of the park.
“nice.” he hums. “did you bring an evening dress?”
“no. and you didn't tell me i was supposed to.” you say.
“well… i would appreciate it if you joined me at dinner tonight. it's with a very important client who um… may be under the impression that im traveling with my wife.”
“your- your wife?” your eyes widen. “you want me to lie about being your wife?”
“just for tonight. id really appreciate it.” rafe looks at you with a softness in his eyes. “please.”
“okay… but i don't have an evening gown… or anything fancy.”
“let me take you shopping then.” rafe pulls out his phone. “there's got to be a nice store near us.”
you place your hand on top of rafes phone. “ill find a place.”
you end up finding a formal store only a couple blocks away. you decide to walk, rafe keeping close to you, glaring at anyone who even glances at you for too long.
you make it to the store without any interruptions, and rafe quickly points out the kinds of dresses that will fit the restaurant before standing back to let you choose.
“you wanna watch me try them on, husband?” you ask rafe, following the associate with an armful of dresses back towards the private changing rooms.
“of course.” rafe follows behind you, eyes glancing down your figure. he can't wait to see you in a gorgeous fitted dress.
when you step out in the first dress, rafe swears he feels his heart skip a beat. “you're getting that one.”
“you sure?” you look in the mirror, twirling around to look at the dropped back. “i don't know if this color looks good on me.”
“it looks good on you.” rafe says. “but by all means, try on more. ill buy you multiple.”
rafe ends up buying you every single dress you try on except for one that's too loose and doesn't fit well. you insist you only need one, but you're not going to argue with your boss wanting to spend money on you.
you end up choosing the first one you tried on to go to the dinner with rafe. your hands shake slightly, not sure what to expect. rafe sees it, hesitating before wrapping your hand in his.
“it'll be fine. you can just… just be quiet for the most part. ill do all the talking.”
“okay.” you squeeze his hand back, not used to the physical contact with rafe, but finding it surprisingly comfortable.
you follow him into the restaurant, everyone else dressed to the nines, perfect hair and makeup on the women, the men with the shiniest shoes. “it's really beautiful in here.” you whisper.
“wait till you taste the food… wifey.” rafe says, making you both laugh.
“ah, mr. and mrs. cameron.” the man says in a slightly accented voice as you both shake his hand, as well as the associate next to him. “so glad to meet the both of you. we appreciate getting into business with a true family man.”
“of course.” you smile, putting on your best acting performance. “we are so excited to start our family soon.”
“we must see the wedding photos. my wife-” the man puts a proud hand on his chest. “is a wedding dress designer.”
“oh.” you frown. “i would love to show you, but we haven't gotten them back yet.” you smile at rafe. “we’re newlyweds.”
“ah, cheers to the beginning of a lovely marriage then.” he raises his glass to clink with the others at the table.
“please, kiss! you must after a toast.” the associate says.
you turn to rafe, glancing down to look at his lips. it would totally give you away to refuse, so you take a deep breath and lean into in, pressing your lips together in a quick kiss. it lasts only a moment, but you swear you feel a spark, a tug to continue kissing him.
rafe doesn't bring it up until later, as your riding the elevator back up to your hotel room. “you did great. im sorry about the kiss.”
“it wasn't bad.” you giggle softly, slightly drunk on the wine that was served.
“im glad you think that.” rafe smiles softly. “you'll make a wonderful wife to a very lucky man someday.”
“maybe we could…” you swallow harshly, the alcohol encouraging your words you know you shouldn't say. “maybe we could keep pretending. just for tonight. and then when we get back to the office things can be back to normal.”
“and what does continuing to pretend to be husband and wife entail?” rafe questions, taking a step closer to you.
“more kissing. more… more.”
rafes lips are against yours suddenly, ignoring the elevator doors sliding open in favor of his mouth pushing against yours, lips gliding harshly over each others. the kiss is the exact opposite of the restaurant, whereas it was quick and innocent, this kiss is full of fire and passion.
the elevators slide shut and begin to head back down to the lobby. “shit.” rafe groans against your lips, jamming the button towards your floor. “sorry baby.”
“just… keep kissing me until someone gets in.” rafe listens to your pleas, kissing you until the elevator comes to a halt. even then, he doesn't move far away, keeping himself stood possessively over you, your back against the elevator wall.
you smile awkwardly at the three men who enter before turning your face into rafes chest, focused on the hand that has slipped around your waist.
the elevator stops and the three men get off. the second it's moving again, rafe is back kissing you, stumbling out when your doors open as to not make the same mistake as last time.
“shit.” rafe groans, having to fumble in his pocket to get the key card for the door.
you let out a soft giggle, pressing kisses to his neck and jaw until the door swings open and you're able to step in the room.
“are you sure?” rafe asks, closing and locking the door behind you.
“im sure.” you nod. “this is just… pretend. let's do what husbands and wives do.”
rafe moves you towards the bed, backing you up until you sit down on the plush spread, decorated exactly like yours in the connecting room, but this bedding still smells like rafe from the night before.
he sinks to his knees, such a strong, dominant man on the floor for you as he takes off your heels, carefully slipping them off your soles before setting them to the side.
“thank you.” you say softly. rafe looks up at you before leaning forward, pushing the slit of your dress open to press kisses to your knees, and then thighs, moving up until the dress no longer allows him to.
“i need you to take this off.” he says roughly.
you nod, shifting yourself to stand as rafe also rises. you turn your back to him, his hands moving to your waist before moving up until he's cupping your chest over the shiny material.
“rafe-” you gasp out as he squeezes, his large palms enveloping your entire breast.
rafe holds his hands there for a moment longer before moving them to your back, unzipping your dress and watching it fall to the floor. you're in just a small pair of lingerie, having bought it for yourself yesterday in a boutique.
“shit.” rafe curses again. “you're… you're so beautiful.”
you turn around to kiss him again, his hands now against your bare skin as he explores, moving all along your sides and back.
your own hands get busy as well, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt until you can push it off his shoulders. you pull away to see his muscles, hints of which you've seen when he's rolled up his sleeves or wore a tighter than normal shirt, but now you can finally really see and appreciate them.
“lay down, please.” rafe says.
you move to lay on his bed, head resting against the pillows as rafe crawls over your body. his mouth finds yours again as his hand delves under your back to unhook your bra. he pulls it away from your body as his lips leave yours.
he's only off your skin for a moment before his mouth is wrapped around your nipple, tongue swirling around in circles as his hand holds your other breast.
“oh, shit.” it's your turn to curse as your eyes squeeze closed, hand coming to the back of rafes head, feeling his short hair as he sucks on your nipple before kissing all over the swell of your breast. he switches sides, wanting to taste all of you.
you lift your hips when his hand grabs onto your underwear, allowing him to pull it all the way down until you kick it off the bed. rafe pulls away to look between your legs, letting out a soft moan when you part your thighs and he can see how wet you already are.
“beautiful.” he says, eyes closing like it's too much to look at you as his hand skirts down your stomach before finding your wetness, finger circling around your entrance before gently pushing in.
“kiss me, please.” you take rafes face in your hands, guiding your mouths back together as his finger carefully thrusts in and out. he slowly increases the speed until you're whining against his lips for more.
rafe twists his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit as you let out a moan, hips pressing up, seeking more.
“i need you.” rafe pulls his hand away. “i need you so bad.”
you nod quickly, giving him one more quick kiss before he pulls away to take off his pants and underwear. you bite your lip once hes completely nude, his cock standing tall and hard away from his body. you want to taste him, want to see what it feels like to have his cock sit heavy on your tongue, but you need him inside of you more.
“i have a condom somewhere…” he looks around.
“you don't need to wear one. I'm on birth control.” you can feel your cheeks blush just at the suggestion. “it's… it's not what a husband and wife would do.”
“okay.” rafe doesn't need any more convincing, crawling back over your body. “do you want me like this?”
you flip over quickly so you're on top, rafes back now pressed into the mattress. you grab onto his cock, giving him a few quick strokes before you line him up with your cunt, sinking down with a synchronous moan.
you keep your eyes on rafes face as you begin to move, hips grinding up and then back, your hands sat firmly on his chest to help you move.
you're able to grind your clit down against his skin every time you sink fully down, just adding to the pleasure. he's stretching you out in the most pleasurable way, just enough to feel it without being painful.
“so fucking beautiful.” rafe says, reaching up to hold onto your tits as they bounce with your body.
you put all your energy into riding him, knowing this might be your only chance to, but hoping it's not, hoping you can feel him inside of you again.
“i- baby.” rafe grunts out, hands moving down to your hips. he helps you move as your legs quickly tire, not used to this position.
“you feel so good.” you whine out eyes sliding shut as rafes hips begin to push up, lifting you with every thrust, spearing his cock even further into you.
“im-im close.” you admit with a gasp, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time.
“cum for me baby, please.” rafe moves one of his hands to your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to rub over your clit.
you cry out, back arching as you instantly cum, not needing any more stimulation as your body shakes before flopping forward, falling against rafes chest.
he gives you a minute, as long as he can hold back before flipping you onto your back. it takes him only a few thrusts to cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim.
rafe flops down next to you, both breathing heavily, skin sheened in sweat.
you wait for a moment. to see if he's going to say anything. when he doesn't, you scooch closer to him, placing your hand on his cheek and bringing him in for a kiss, not yet done pretending.
-- four years later --
“you remember the first time we came here?” rafe asks, stepping into the restaurant with his hand wrapped around yours. it's redecorated some, but is still familiar.
“how could i forget.” you smile at him. “where i first pretended to be your wife.”
“well, at least you don't have to pretend anymore,” rafe says, swiping his thumb over the diamond ring on your finger “mrs. cameron.”
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blow my mind | bang chan
Pairing • Chan x GN!Reader
Summary • You have a test today and you haven't studied at all, but you're not worried. Why? Because you have the ability to read minds, and you'll be sitting next to the smartest guy in class. Unfortunately, his thoughts have strayed from the test and into very dirty territory.
Genre • college au, smut, fluff
WC • 1.7k
Content • no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina, mind reading, dirty thoughts about: hand holding 🥰, public sex, fingering, dry humping, unprotected piv penetration, orgasm denial. Indented paragraphs indicate what's happening in his mind and not real life.
Ethically, reading minds is a very dubious subject. As far as you know, you're the only person in the world with supernatural abilities. No one would ever know you're reading their mind, but you have high enough standards for yourself to only use your mind reading capabilities in emergencies.
This was an emergency.
You have a test today, and didn't study. But, you do have a plan. You are going to sit beside one of your classmates and cheat.
You walk into the lecture hall, and scan the room. The class is arranged with tier seating and long tables, and as you work your eyes around the room, you spot him at the very top. You've had a few projects with Chan before, so you know how intelligent he is. You've talked a lot more over the course of the semester, so it wouldn't be weird to sit beside him.
"Ready for the test?" you ask, approaching the table he's sitting at.
He looks up at you and smiles.
"I hope so, I've been cramming all night for this. You?"
"Nope." You grin and give him a thumbs up, pulling out the chair next to him and taking a seat.
"Glad to see you're confident," he laughs.
The rest of the class trudges in, and the test begins.
First thing you write is your name. Easy enough.
You concentrate on Chan, and peer into his mind. He's reading the first question, and after a few minutes of words formulating in his brain, he writes down an answer. You always found it interesting to see how different people think, and Chan's thoughts are muddied as he tries to answer the questions. But when he figures out an answer, everything comes into total focus.
You rewrite his answers on your paper, making sure to use different words. As much as you dislike doing it, this isn't your first time cheating on a test like this, so you know how to not get caught.
A particularly tricky question is next, and you can see his thoughts wander from the test, to the class, to... you. You see yourself in his imagination.
He's daydreaming. This is not good, you need him to focus on the test.
You think about tuning into someone else's mind, but you're captured by what he imagines.
He reaches out his hand, gently placing it over yours. He squeezes it lightly.
You have to look at your hand to make sure it wasn't real. His imagination is extremely vivid. You see movement out of the corner of your eye, which turns out to be Chan shaking his head. Just like that, the image disappears and he's back to thinking about the question.
What was that?
You don't have time to ponder what that could mean when he starts writing down his answer, and you have to quickly catch up to him before he stops thinking about it.
The next question also seems to be giving him trouble, because he stops to think about it for a long time. Eventually, he drifts off into another daydream. He imagines the classroom again, and himself scooting his chair next to you. The version of you in his imagination rests your head on his shoulder. It's very cute, all things considered.
Then it dawns on you. He has a crush on you.
Well isn't that just adorable. It would be cuter if he would just get back to the test before you both fail.
He turns his head to look at you, resting peacefully on his shoulder. He smiles and leans in to kiss you.
Your fingers instinctively brush your lips. It's not rare for people to have vivid sensory imaginations, but you almost never get a tactile experience from your power. He must be imagining the feeling of touching you, enough that you feel it through him.
If only he had Aphantasia, and not the worlds strongest imagination. You don't think either of you will be passing this test.
He moves his hand from on top of yours to caressing your thigh. Then, it moves closer to the waistband of your pants-
You cough loudly, breaking his focus. The image disappears in an instant. You see the muddied words coming back, and he's finally thinking about the test again.
You can feel heat rising to your cheeks. Was he imagining what you think he was imagining?
He has been stuck on this question for a while, so you probably wont find anyone else in class who's still working on it. And even if you could, you'd have to check the minds of the entire class. You're stuck peeping in Chan's mind if you want to possibly pass the test.
It's feels a bit strange to be the subject of Chan's romantic fantasies, but not in a bad way. He's handsome, kind, smart, funny in an awkward kind of way that you've always found charming...
You've never thought about him that way before. But knowing how he feels, you'll definitely be thinking about him now.
You realize you're starting to drift off the same way Chan was, and go back to concentrating on your cheating scheme.
Luckily, he's focused on the right subject now, and he flies through the answers. He's almost too fast, and you have to leave some answers half done in order to keep pace. Hopefully you'll still get half a mark for those ones.
You're on the last question now. He takes some time to read and reread the question, and when he starts to think of an answer, he goes back and reads the question one more time. You're worried, the tricky questions are when he starts to nod off.
He rests his head on his hand and his mind wanders back to his imagination. At this point, you think you should just try to answer the question yourself, but your mind freezes when he continues where he left off.
His hand moves up your thigh, and between your legs. He rubs you over the fabric of your pants, but the friction is enough to feel your core start to pulse. You start moaning involuntarily, and Chan smirks to himself.
'Quiet, we're still in class' he whispers.
He pretends to keep writing with one hand, while the other slips into your pants. You're not wearing underwear, so he can easily move his fingers to circle your clit. You cover your mouth with your fist to stifle a moan. The pace is slow, but you're able to pretend to be working while he works his fingers. You find yourself mindlessly rocking into him. He increases his speed, and you feel your orgasm building while you try to suppress another moan. Your head leans back as you buck into his hand, and you feel yourself about to-
Suddenly, his fingers stop. Your core is still throbbing, but he takes his hand out of your pants. You look at him pleadingly, and he pats his lap for you to sit on. You look around the classroom. Everyone is too focused on their tests to notice you getting up.
You stand to straddle him, and before you can sit down, he unbuttons your pants and pulls them down. If anyone turned around to look, they would see him groping your ass. He guides you down to sit on his lap, and you feel his bulge prodding against your folds.
"Finish yourself on me," he whispers. You try to turn your head to see if anyone's watching, but he stops you. "Just look at me. Don't worry about anyone else."
Nervously, you rub yourself on his bulge, and even under the fabric you can feel how hard he is. When you feel your orgasm building up again, you forget about the possibility of anyone seeing and hump him harder. His clothed dick against your bare cunt clouds your mind, and you try to get as much friction against him as you can. You buck into him faster, and you feel him getting harder as he starts to rock against you.
You feel yourself about to cum again, but he lifts you up onto the desk and lays you on your back.
"Chan, please," you whine. You can't take this anymore, and you rub your legs together to feel any sort of release.
He pulls your legs apart, opening your soaking wet pussy to the world. Before you can even complain, his pants are down, and his massive cock is throbbing against your entrance.
He easily slides himself into you, and you feel him moving up your walls. He fills you up completely, staying there for a moment before pulling out and slamming himself right back in. He rams into you, hitting your sweet spot. His hand is back on your clit, rubbing circles while he continues his ruthless pace with his cock pounding in and out of your throbbing core. He slams into you faster and faster as he chases his own high, losing control as his body acts on instinct. You're almost at your limit, and you feel your orgasm about to peak-
"Time's up everyone! Turn in your tests," the professor announces to the class.
You feel your core pulsing as you snap back to reality. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest, and you realize none of that was real, despite it being incredibly vivid. Somehow, you lost yourself in his fantasy.
You look over to Chan, and notice his erection as he quickly writes something down for the last question. You look back to your own test, and see the empty space where you should've wrote your answer. You have no idea what to write. You don't even remember what the question was.
All you remember was Chan pounding into you at a brutal pace.
You look back to Chan as he stands, and when he makes eye contact, his cheeks turn red and he looks away. He hurriedly stuffs all his things into his bag and speed walks down the steps.
If you want to pass this class, you can never sit next to him again. You definitely should never read his mind again.
However... you do want to know what else he's thinking about when you're near him.
And you really want to know what he's like outside of his imagination.
EPILOGUE:
Two weeks later, your test scores are posted to the schools website. You click on the link to see how you did. As it loads in, you wait with baited breath.
You failed the test.
A/N: I hope someone went to look up what Aphantasia was, and suddenly everything made sense in their life when they realized they have it. And they have to live their life knowing that an incredibly important part of their worldview and way of thinking was discovered by reading a kpop x reader smut fic.
read part two here!
#stray kids x reader#stray kids#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x reader smut#stray kids smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#bang chan#chan smut#chan x reader#chan x reader smut
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Me with regular Konig: baby boy. Baby. Let me pay him on the head and call him a good boy.
Me with fae! Konig: nasty. Nasty horrid man. Mangy alley cat. He has fleas all over. Give him a bath.
Me with Regency! Konig: Whore.
It's funny to me that Konig in the fae AU - as the "ultimate predator" - would have no reason to growl.
In the animal kingdom, an animal that growls wants to scare you away. An animal that doesn't growl wants to kill you.
Why alert your prey of your attack? Animals only really growl to scare away another animal instead of fighting it so they can conserve energy: Snakes hiss and rattle so they don't have to use up all their venom and be left vulnerable for another attack while they use valuable energy to produce more. Animals growl to scare predators away if they think they can't win the fight or don't want to get seriously wounded in the fight.
Konig would have no reason to doubt his ability to win a fight. Konig would have no reason to worry about conserving energy, he can find food easily. Konig would have no reason to fear being wounded because who could touch him?
And it makes sense that Konig wouldn't want to scare away those he wants gone, it's more efficient, easier, and more logical to kill them, that way they can't come back.
You know why he would growl? To impress a mate.
I mean, if he can't kill someone (however temporarily he'll let them live) lest he risk being banned again he can still make a show of it. Mate doesn't let him show how strong he is through his normal methods? Look, even these magical beings are scared of a measly little growl.
He would enjoy showboating I think too. How deep and rumbling his growl can be. Using his vocalisations to express other feelings as well.
You've also mentioned him enjoying the hunt with Libeling and stalking her without much noise but letting her be aware of his presence so she can feel at ease and he gets the thrill of the hunt. Which would tie into how he wants to respect her and wants her to see him and appreciate his strengths but not necessarily fear him too much.
I think it would be cute that during their first couple meetings Konig growls and Liebling of course assumes it's him throwing his weight around or trying to scare her and is upset. Whereas poor Konig is shellshocked because he didn't even mean to growl it just happened. For the first time in... Ever? Maybe?
He growled because he knows Liebling wouldn't like how else he deals with problems - why is he changing his behaviour for a human? He growled because he wanted to impress her - when was the last time he ever had to try to impress? He growled because for the first time in aeons he wants to communicate with another being - he's so used to wanting to maim and kill and hunt that he mistook the intense feelings as the same instincts he always had but were they something more?
Liebling, angry: Did you just growl at me?!
Konig, dumbfounded: did I just growl at you?
Just, Liebling angry at Konig while Konig is having an existential crisis.
Regency König is a WHORE.
Fae!König absolutely has no reason to growl. He has no reason to do a lot of things that he does in the modern age, he only does them because it helps him blend in. König has extremely weak magic, the man can use it but he's not adept wit it, he only taps because it helps him look more fae. He didn't growl until he met Liebling, because she considers it more polite than just ripping people to shreds.
König's natural noise is something more akin to clicking. Sort of like the Predator, but I also think of it like mandible clicks, something reverberating and distinctly inhuman. He's based off of a mammalian predators, but I don't think he made normal mammal sounds for a LONG time. Speech is sort of new to him, same with disguising himself. This is why he tends to lose control of his form when he's not paying attention to it(thank God for Liebling being a monster fucker).
You're dead on the money that König respects Liebling and wants her to see his power without fearing him. He has a huge amount of respect for her, not only because she's the only person that stands up to him, but also because she's incredibly smart and self sufficient. König loves how much she doesn't need him or want him, she has no desire for his power and so he has no issue giving it to her.
I think he growls for Liebling because he truly sees her as his better, as the one person that can match truly him. There are a lot of firsts from König in his relationship with Liebling, and a lot of confusing feelings that he's never really had before. Lust, sure, but love? Nope.
"Did you growl at me?" You try to fix the disbelieving glare on your face, your cup of tea half raised. König stares at you like he doesn't believe it either.
"Did I?" He asks, as if that will get him out of this.
He didn't mean to growl at you. The rumble in his throat had just slipped out. Something deep and aggressive had taken hold of him, something warm in the pit of his stomach. You eye him suspiciously, glaring over the rim of your cup. König can't offer an explanation. He hasn't made that sound before. There's no reason to warn anyone of his teeth, if they can see them it's already too late. But you...
You glance at the people passing by, enjoying the sunshine, the weather nice enough to sit outside your favorite bakery after work. Your lashes dust against your cheeks when you blink, your skin looking warmer for all the sunshine. You're close enough to see his teeth and yet you're not running scared. You've seen them, and you still sit across from him, still turn your attention away from him, your bare neck on display with all the trust in the world. You're so lovely.
The sound bubbles again, a reverberating growl in his throat that pitches down, attempting to escape lower. You glare at him from the corner of your eye and turn to face him.
"What?" You question, spit it like a swear as you set your cup down. König blinks, sits back in his seat, straightens to sit taller. He doesn't know. He has no reason to warn you of anything, no plans on eating you. He doesn't even growl at the fae unlucky enough to get caught in his claws. What threat could you possibly pose to him that he needs to warn you away? What energy does he need to conserve? His teeth don't run out of bite, his claws still rip and tear, he is as much the monster he always has been, and you are still small and soft comparatively.
"Nothing," He tells you, because truly there is nothing. He doesn't know what there might be to make him do this. "You're beautiful," he offers instead. Compliments always make you look away from him, and this time is no different. You press your hand against your cheek, leaning against the edge of the table and turning away from him. He can almost hear the blood rushing to your cheeks, feel the pout of your lips against his hand.
The sound settles lower now, rumbling in his chest pleasantly with the contraction of his lungs. It thrums through his vocal cords, and against his tongue, as soft as the curl of your fingers. You don't look at him this time, seem to try and twist further out of his view. Something sparking like recognition in your eyes. König tips his head to study you, brows drawing together.
Is it concern that flutters in his stomach? Is it aggression that clenches hot in his chest? Does he growl at you because you're so much greater a threat than he is?
"You're purring," You mumble, voice muffled by your hand, "it's embarrassing."
You say that, but all your lovely spider-silk tethers glow a pleasant gold, and König's heart beats a little faster.
#cod x reader#x reader#x oc#cod x oc#könig x reader#könig cod#könig mw2#könig call of duty#konig cod#konig x reader#konig mw2#konig call of duty#fae!König#1fae1#long post#meta meta meta
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On Mate Behavior: Elriel
So, when it comes to Azriel's mate behavior, I would say the most commonly discussed point (which I definitely agree with) to *disprove* that Azriel displays any mate behavior towards Gwyn is his overall calm demeanor and focus on Eris when the Valkyrie are kidnapped in the middle of the night and dropped into the Blood Rite.
However, there is another example that additionally highlights the lack of "mate behavior" in the bonus chapter, and I truly don't see it come up that often, though I think it is even more telling!
When he meets Gwyn's gaze, and that bloody memory of when he first "met" her (if you would like to call that their meeting) flashes, he is otherwise completely unruffled. He simply reflects on Gwyn's growth, and two seconds later, is snorting and having an easy, playful conversation.
While this certainly points to their comfortability and fun banter that they share, it does not scream *mate behavior.*
ToG and CC spoilers ahead
I think about Rowan seeing Aelin's ruined back for the first time, and being so overcome with anger at discovering the violence that had been enacted on her that he took to the skies to get control of his violent instincts:
I think of Cassian in his bonus chapter with Nesta- going into a rage as he smelled Nesta's fear while she recalled Tomas's attempted assault. He would have gone to kill him right then, I have no doubt:
I think of Ruhn hating Lidia, being sick over discovering the female he had fallen for was The Hind. And yet, when Pollux lays a hand on her, he was ready to rip out his throat for hurting Lidia. He couldn't understand how he could hate her and need her and want to kill for her at the same time:
So I do think it's interesting that in comparison to the to the other mated males who get a POV and an inside look into their heads while they reflect on trauma their mates have been through (even before knowing they are mates, which is the case in all three of these examples) they are completely unhinged. And yet we get this pointed moment where Azriel actively reflects on Gwyn's trauma, the absolute horrors that had been done to her and... nothing. A snort, and a little bit of form correction and teasing.
Meanwhile in this same book, Elain gets called boring and Azriel's shadows are like hoe who do we need to mf-ing end right tf now:
Azriel has already established that he believes the Cauldron could be wrong. While I personally disagree that there is foreshadowing to Azriel and Gwyn being mates, even in trying to give it a fair and unbiased look and say okay- could they be mates? I still wind up drawing the conclusion that even if they are, it would mean as little to Azriel as Elain's mating bond currently means to her.
I am personally super open minded about whether or not Azriel and Elain are true mates. I think a reveal that they are could be lovely. I also think them choosing each other above all, even fate, would be lovely.
But there is simply no denying that these two already have a set up plotline of questioning the Cauldron, and the only two characters *acting* like mates in this scenario are Az and Elain.
As always, I am Lucien and Gwyn positive even though I ship Elriel, so be kind in the comments! But I just really don't see how this could possibly play out any other way. Azriel has had too many on page opportunities, even from his personal POV, to display mate behavior towards Gwyn and there is nary a lick. It's just... not how a lead up to a mate reveal typically goes. So the pure, undiluted facts are that even if you think Sarah is a "fated mate" author above all, she is not treating these characters as she usually does. And that is noteworthy.
Thank you for joining me on this dissertation!
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Shut Up (don't)
anniversary event [closed]
lee seokmin x reader
prompt(s): carrying on the argument between sloppy kisses and heavy make out
word count: 2.7k
warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), mean words are thrown at one another while they're fighting, heavy makeouts, fingering (f. rec), breast play, p in v, unprotected sex, soff ending bc im a sap
[a/n]: i have nothing to say. enjoy.
masterlist
Nearly getting rearended, and then breaking the heel of your shoe, to becoming the receiving end of another plethora of snarky remarks from the department weasel; it was all beginning to spill over the rim of your too warm, too full cup.
All you wanted was to eat a good meal in front of another mindless TV show and nap the weekend away in the arms of your favourite person. Hence why the excitement at your front door was overflowing, creaking the door open to find a darker than usual hallway. You can only slip off your broken shoes and deposit your keys and bag so quickly, barely considering the amount of noise you’re making with all the shuffling and clanging in the doorway.
“Seok! Babe, are you home?” you raise your voice a little as you enter the kitchen, slamming the grocery bags down on the counter with a loud huff. You peek out the door into the dark halls, brows furrowed.
Opting to put away the perishables first, you grunt as you stand back up after stuffing all the frozen packages into the freezer, hand supporting your lower back. You were more tired than you’d initally thought.
Shuffling into the living room, your turn on the lights, remaining confused as ever as to why they were off. Even in an empty house, at least one of the lights would remain on.
You nearly jump out of your skin when you register the lump on the now visible couch, taking a moment to realise it was your boyfriend, still in the clothes he had left in this morning.
He’s shifting, groaning as he comes around to reveal his face, eyes bleary and face slightly red from sleep.
“Oh,” he grimaces as he realises you were the one to turn the lights back on. “You’re home.”
“Why are you sleeping on the couch? Have you eaten yet?” you ask your boyfriend who’s now attempting rub the sleep out of his eyes.
“No,” he confirms, voice still scratchy. “I’m gonna change and go to bed.”
“Wait, I did the groceries before coming home. I can make you your favourite. You can go to bed after you eat,” you insist.
He doesn’t answer as he simply rises and makes his way towards the hall leading the bedroom.
“Seok? Honey, I’ll be quick, I promise. Twenty minutes tops and then you can go to bed.”
Catching up to him, you grab his hand in an attempt to get him to look at you, which he does. Except he looks…annoyed? He brushes another hand across his hair and face, looking more exasperated by the second.
“I’m not hungry,” he says, slower than usual. Like it was taking an effort to get the words out. “Now can you please just—”
“You can’t go to bed empty stomached, you’ll wake up with a headache!”
“You’re giving me a fucking headache right now.”
You freeze.
On instinct, you drop his hand, letting it ball into fists at his side. He blinks for a long moment, pinching his nose bridge, before turning around entirely to continue his retreat back into the bedroom.
It’s like you’ve snapped out of a daze when you register his retreating form, zero comment from either of you after the bomb he’d planted in the room.
“You don’t get to say that to me and then walk away,” you say, and he’s still not stopping. “You aren’t the only one who’s had a shit day, at least I’m not being an ass about it.”
That seems to do it for him, turning around with furrowed brows and an open mouth that’s ready to shoot back. “This is your problem, you can’t leave things alone.”
“I’m sorry that I care if my boyfriend’s starving himself?” Your voice comes out louder than intended, the heat of the situation creating an emerging buzz in your head.
“Don’t care then! Your idea of helping is whatever you want done for you, have you considered that I just want to be left alone?” He tries to control his arms movements but they explode into some waving motion anyway, eyes meeting yours in a wide, angry, accusatory hold.
“Seokmin.” His name leaves your mouth in an unbelievable laugh. “Are you listening to yourself?”
“How can I over all that clanging and banging you do the minute you step foot into this house?!”
“You know what?” you begin.
“God, just shut up, I can’t do this with you right now.”
“This is beginning to sound like you have a problem with me.”
“I just said—”
“No! Just fucking say it. Moving in together was a bad idea and you wish you’d never asked!” You know you sound hysterical, arms thrown over head as you fight the urge to push something over.
“Stop it.”
“I’m trying to make this work with our schedules but if you’re gonna blow up anytime you don’t get your way—”
Seokmin tries to shut you up again, only this time he succeeds.
In the midst of your rampage he’d crossed the distance between the both of you, opting to slam his mouth onto yours instead of using his words.
Both of his hands have gotten hold of your face, keeping you from moving your mouth in an way except against his own. He’s taken away your power, your hands come up to grasp his forearms.
“Seok—” you start again, but he only plants his lips on you again, sliding his tongue at the seam of your mouth to intrude even further.
You’re mad at him. It’s taking alot to remind yourself of that. He’s trying to shut you up. He doesn’t want to listen to you. He…
Even Seokmin, with all his other worldly breath control, can’t keep his mouth on your forever, leaving your swollen lips to let you both breathe for a moment.
“What the fuck is this supposed to be doing?’ you ask, breathless but angry.
“Shutting you up,” he reponds, gripping your waist so hard it almost hurts, shoving your entire body right into his personal space.
You aren’t any better than him, bringing your hands up to his hair, tugging at the strands just to have something to grip on to.
“This isn’t over,” you mumble between wet, sloppy kisses, already half gone.
“Like hell it isn’t,” Seokmin grunts, letting go only to pull you onto the warm couch, caging you between the armrest and his own overbearing body. He’s taking over you from all sides, the muddle of your mind unbecoming of the anger that coursed through you just minutes prior.
Pairing that with your existing exhaustion, your mind seems to be skipping over most of the filler scenes that unfold.
Your top is gone to wind before you can register his fingers working the buttons. His hands have reached underneath your tight skirt, fiddling with the waistband of your stockings. He’s struggling with the overlapping fabrics, the existing difficulty of handling stockings earning a dissatisfied grunt from his throat.
Opening your eyes, shifting them to focus on Seokmin’s face, you don’t doubt you look just as fucked out as he does. Pupils dilated, hair dishevelled and sticking out from everywhere, clothes barely framing where they belong. He’s growing frustrated as he instead attempts to shuck your skirt off.
“Just—” He cuts you off again, even as you try to help with the wretched zipper.
“Not a word out of your mouth,” he says, almost like it’s a plea, shielded under his scratchy growl. “Not until I’m done.”
This is nothing like you’ve ever seen before, your sweet, gentle boyfriend had turned into some deep monster from hell, like the events of tonight unsheathed some unfed entity that only festered on its ignorance. Despite everything, you can’t seem to complain, enjoying every bit of this as every passing moment only stacks the already leaning tower.
And when you thought he couldn’t get any more unhinged, you hear the distinct sound of a rip!
He’s ripped your tights.
“Seok, I just bought those!” you blurt before you can stop yourself.
He doesn’t answer you this time, opting to let his fingers do the talking. You feel a distinct pressure on your hot core, and you’re immediately putty. Seokmin is rubbing slow circles over the damp crotch of your panties, steady, but just enough to have you bucking your hips uncontrollably every so couple seconds. Your breathing is loud, bordering whimpers as you squeeze your eyes shut.
It’s criminal the way he pushes into your core, stuffing you with bulk of his finger and the fabric of your underwear. And just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, he removes hands entirely.
You nearly scream, the ache becoming near unbearable. He’s shuffling around to take his clothes off but you couldn’t care less if he fucked you half dressed. He’s naked before you can do something about it yourself, immediately planting himself back on you.
“Put that mouth to better use,” he whispers, bringing two of his fingers to your lips, letting them push past and rest on your tongue. You start sucking on them instantly, tongue running over his long, beautiful fingers, letting him shove them as far as you’d let him.
When he relents, he only slips them somewhere else. You watch between your flushed bodies as his sticky, glistening fingers disappear, sliding inside your ready, coated walls. Hands finding purchase on the bulk of his shoulders, he lets you dig your nails into his pristine tan skin as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Throwing your head back you can only groan into the empty ceiling at the feeling.
“God, Seok that feels so good.”
He goes faster, deeper, separating his fingers inside you to test your limits. Finding that spongy spot, he shows no signs of relenting, now pistoning into you.
When he stops, you come round to watch him line his hard member up to your entrance, not giving you a moment to register the emptiness. Except, you stop him.
“Wait,” you breathe out, pushing yourself on your elbows.
“What?” he asks, like he’s been snapped out of a trance. You maintain eye contact as you push him into a sitting position on the couch, letting his back hit the plush of the pillows. You take the opportunity to slide out of your torn and tattered tights, feeling the muscle of his thighs as you sit on his lap.
“Fuck,” he curses when he realises what you’re doing.
You readjust, grabbing his hard shaft, pumping him slowly as you prepare to line him up to your entrance again. Pushing your chest into his face during the process, he wastes no time in latching his mouth over the lace of your bra, licking over the fabric, pushing the tip of his tongue right where your nipple was.
It send waves of shocks right into your core, busying the tip of his cock to rub itself on your dropping hole, savouring the feeling. Seokmin’s thrown your bra away, his mouth now in full contact with your breasts, tongue flicking across the nipple as he nips and sucks to his heart’s content. His fingers flick over your other nipple, pinching and stimulating it just the same. The sight of his fingers is doing so much to you, enough to encourage you to sink into his cock with finality.
It’s a stretch, but nothing you haven’t been practiced to handle. He has a hand low on your hips, guiding your ass to sit on him fully. When you move it’s easier, the pleasure returning in its waves and sparks.
“Fuck, Seok,” you whimper, as you start moving faster, bouncing on his cock, ass slapping his thighs.
You find a place holder behind you on his knee, reaching one of your hands back to clasp his skin, the other finds reprieve in his hair, mouth still sucking on your breast.
His palm rests on your ass, guiding you up and down his shaft in a constant rhythm, moaning into the plump of your breast. Letting go of your nipple, he throws his head back in a guttural moan, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your walls engulfing him whole. He continues to play with the swell of your breasts, fondling and groping.
Taking advantage of the access, you lean into neck, pressing kisses onto the expanse, suckling on a spot near his ear, savouring the salt of his skin on your tongue. Your hips continue to bounce on him, but inevitably slow as you feel the burn on your thighs and hips.
One particular landing is felt with a harsh buck of Seokmin’s own hips and you realise with a loud moan that he’s meeting you halfway, finishing what you started. Soon he’s created a pace of his own, thrusting his well oiled hips into you so good it has you blinking away the gleam of stars.
“Baby,” your voice comes out pleading, and he knows exactly what you’re trying to say.
“Come, baby, it’s alright. Come all over me.”
Taking his words to your cunt, you oblige, letting yourself come undone. It’s loud, it’s desperate and it’s raw, needing to wrap your arms around him in a latch for support. He smells like him, and it’s making the high continue to wreck your body in waves that won’t end.
Seokmin cums just as your coming down from your own high, tightening his hold on you as he rams his cock into your overstimulated cunt to get his own fill of pleasure. His thighs stutter beneath you, his sounds deep and loud.
By the time he’s done neither of you have enough air in your lungs to say a word, slumped over one another as you catch your breaths.
Seokmin is the first to recover, and your fluttering eyelids drift open at the feeling of his lips on your shoulders, leaving butterfly kisses as you remain curled into his chest, head on the crook of his neck.
You’re uncomfortably warm, but you cuddle into his chest closer, feeling the heat that radiates off of his body. His lips have found your temple, seemingly not caring for your sticky, sweaty skin as he trails his kisses to your cheek, right next to your ear.
“I’m sorry for blowing up on you like that. I always want you to care, please forget about what I said,” he whispers into your ear, and it’s enough to have you shuffle impossibly closer into his naked chest. It’s like you’ve molded into each other’s skin.
“I’m sorry too, for not being understand and for blowing up on you as well. I should’ve handled my emotions better.” You lift your head for a moment to plant a kiss on Seokmin’s jaw, and then find his lips.
He kisses you so softly it hurts, pecks of affirmation between his “sorry”s.
“I love you,” he mumbles into your lips, and you cup his jaw as he pulls away ever so slightly.
You can see a stretch at the corner of his lips and you realise he’s smiling; you almost weep at the sight.
Kissing him again, you whisper right back, “I love you more.”
“Please don’t ever leave.”
“Never.”
“Promise?”
You let out a little giggle, “Promise. As long as you won’t ever leave me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, nothing but love in his eyes.
“We still have to talk about what happened,” you say, brushing the pad of your finger across his cheek.
“I know, and we will,” he gulps. “I think we need to sleep on it.”
You agree quietly, but quip anyway. “If I had to take a shot, I’d bet it on all that pent up energy you just unleashed. I think you feel better right now.”
He exhales through his nose, slightly embarrassed at being called out, but replies nonetheless. “It…it probably was. I do feel less tense.”
“Hm,” you hum, bringing you arms to wrap around his neck, tucking your mouth right near his ear. You trace a lone finger down the center of his chest.
“Since we’ve decided this is a topic for tomorrow, do you think you’ve got a little more frustration in there to let out?”
He’s still sheathed inside you, and you can feel his length begin to harden.
You don’t realise what’s happening as you feel yourself being jerked forward, suddenly suspended in his arms as he struts towards the bedroom. Arms tightened, a hint of a squeal escapes you, and you can only giggle as he tickles whispered promises into your neck.
Promises that you can count on him to fulfill.
#🎁gyuswhoreturns1!#svthub#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen smut#dokyeom smut#dokyeom angst#dokyeom fluff#dokyeom scenarios#dokyeom x reader#dokyeom imagines#svt smut#svt fluff#dk smut#seokmin smut#seokmin fluff#dokyeom
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for the multiclassers with their level up to 14 there are options
Fabian is currently a level 6 fighter battlemaster/7 swords bard. getting a level in fighter means getting a battlemaster feature Know your Enemy. Which honestly I feel is underused in most dnd games, but can be very good for him where he's in school and has a much easier chance to observe potential enemies like the Ratgrinders. If he takes a level in bard, he doesn't get that much as it is an ability score level up so potentially he could get his 18 in charisma to 20, or he could get a feat. If he does go this route I think he should take a feat since Fabian's charisma is great already and he doesn't really use his spells in combat that much compared to the casters, he mostly uses it to get smites from Fandragor. There are a lot of cool feats that he could pick if he went this route, like sentinel that he had then lost in Sophomore year. Of course, there are other reasons to take a level, sometimes the most important thing is to take a level in a class to get closer to a higher level class feature. They don't have many more combats/episodes left, probably 1 before the finale so they could potentially have another level up. at 9th level get gets access to a 5th level spell.
Gorgug is in a similar space as Fabian, he's a 6 barbarian berserker/7 artificer barbificier. taking a level in barbarian would give him access to feral instinct that he lost when he took artificer levels. Advantage on initiative is good, but he's had disadvantage on initiative since he started getting stress tokens so I'm not sure how important that is to Zac. The level in Artificer won't give him much as it's an ability score level. He could boost his strength up to 20 to max it out or get his int to 18 for his artificer stuff. Or he could take a feat and then who knows what he's going to do. Of course, he could take 2 levels in artificer by becoming a 5 barbarian, and become a 9th level artificer to show off a feature of his new homebrewed subclass. I don't think he should since he would lose mindless rage that has saved him quite a few times and high level dnd has a lot of weird mind magic that can frighten and charm. As the biggest guy on the field he's the likely target. As we don't know much about Gorgug's barbificer subclass it could be worth it or it might not be.
Fig is more complicated since she has 3 classes, 10 lore bard/1 hexblade warlock/2 paladin. First off, I don't think she's going to take a warlock level, eldritch invocations are great, but she had them before and gave up a level of warlock for paladin. She seems to like the concept of Warlock, but mechanically it doesn't do much for her, the single level of hexblade is all she needs to be an awesome melee bard. Taking a level in bard would make sense given that we still have to see the outcome of her 30 or so roll on her new song. And doing so would give her access to 6th level spells. Also in regards to bard, I don't think Fig is going to switch her subclass again to swords or valor to get an extra attack. She might, but as a lore bard her magical secrets she gets have served her well, it's the reason she was able to use revify and counterspell. She has the normal magical secrets from being a bard, but who knows if she'd be willing to part with spells for another attack since Emily loves her spells. If she takes a 3rd level in paladin she'll be taking her oath, which is important to her story and what she's been struggling with. I'm not sure if she'd take a level this time or after their second to last fight, it might be more important for her then as a climax. She would get a class feature and honestly I could see it being a homebrewed feature since she doesn't really fit into any of the oaths currently available. Maybe conquest or redemption given how her storyline in intertwined with Ankarna, but who knows given how open Brennan is with homebrew. I also don't think Fig is going to give up her bard levels to get to 5 paladin by the end of the season. Her magical secrets she gets as a bard at 10 are just too good to pass up, she'd lose at least summon greater steed and another spell which I don't think would be worth it.
I am very excited to see how things turn out tonight to see how they level up.
#fantasy high#fantasy high spoilers#fantasy high junior year#fhjy#the bad kids#fig faeth#gorgug thistlespring#fabian seacaster
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I'm so curious about Kagha, because she's so different from Halsin. She and Halsin are both wood elves, and I get the sense that Kagha is probably not ~young~ but she's not nearly as old as Halsin. When you deal with the Shadow Druids, she's very quick to defer to him and treat him like a teacher she's disappointed. He probably mentored her, if he's chosen her as his second in command - though, I would bet it's in more of a general thing in the way that the First Druid is everyone's mentor, rather than the clearly more direct and specific mentorship he has with Nettie as a healer.
Canonically, Halsin isn't an exceptionally good leader. He's not bad at it, and he has good instincts. He correctly surmises that after the dust-up with Kagha and the tieflings, the Emerald Grove needs an outsider to step in and lead without being tied to any particular grudges or politics. That's savvy enough that I think Halsin was a good First Druid, he just wasn't especially good or great at it and clearly didn't like the position. At worst, I think he let some situations fester because of his focus on the Shadow Curse.
But I'm not ready to say that he didn't realize Kagha was a proverbial snake in the grass ~the whole time~, because I don't think she was. I think she was genuinely and recently radicalized by the Shadow Druids. I think she probably had something of an edge before, maybe she was a hardass or had a mean streak or something. Regardless of how I feel about the quality of the Shadow Druid subplot (which is that I think its pacing is meh and Kagha's face-turn is way too fast and kind of shitty), I think it speaks to the fact that her care for the Grove is genuine. That perhaps Halsin's failure with her wasn't in not realizing she was A Bad Person Actually, but in not tending to her insecurities or noticing that she might be feeling isolated, if she was so effectively shaken by the Shadow Druids' fearmongering.
The recent wave of IRL cults should have taught us all by now that everyone is susceptible to cult tactics if they're sufficiently scared and alone, and BG3 is a game riddled with various cults. You don't have to already be a bad person, or a stupid or weak person, to fall for them. And I think Kagha's story is way less interesting if you just think she's an evil power hungry shrew too stupid to keep herself from being radicalized.
She clearly has a nasty streak, but her apologies and regrets also sound sincere, if you manage to hear them. Even when she isn't "redeemed", she accepts her punishments, even if she does so bitterly and not believing she was wrong. And I have to wonder just how much of that mean streak is self-defensive rather than inherent in her, how much of it is that she struggles to admit failure and learn from it. Or how much is her modeling Halsin's level of single-minded commitment, picking a methodology or an action and throwing all of her weight behind it, even when it may no longer be working.
I wish characters like Kagha got nearly as much love and fandom development and benefit of the doubt as someone like Ketheric. I think she has a ton of potential for that, and way fewer crimes to her name than other fandom favorites who just happen to also be, you know. Men.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#kagha#halsin#bg3 spoilers#bog post#tbh i get more fond of kagha in every playthrough#also i wonder how much of kagha being so high strung#is BECAUSE halsin was obsessed with the shadow curse#i wonder how much of his responsibility as first druid#were already being performed by kagha#saddled with the tasks but not the responsibility#not the ability to make new decisions#THAT will certainly make someone feel unbalanced and insecure#i like the idea that he chose her because of their differences in temperament perhaps#but how much of that was savvy decision-making#and how much of it was saddling her with extra burdens#to make up for halsin's preoccupation and distraction
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↳ EVENT 02. Whitney (Stuck & Watersports)
Pairing: Whitney / F!Reader
Genre: Smut 18+
WC: 2,747
Warnings: watersports, piss, male squirting, creampie, exhibitionism, stuck trope
Prompt(s): 08 — stuck + 17 — watersports
Wanna take part in the event?: CLICK HERE!!
A/N: i think from now on i'll include the prompts in the title too just because thinking of titles is hard and this makes it easy to know the contents at a glance lmao. anyway. YAYYY ANOTHER WHITNEY PROMPT. i love my boy so much thank you for this blessing of being allowed to write for him <3
and i was so excited about this one specifically because YOU KNOW ME SO WELL BESTIE AHHH. thank you for allowing me to indulge in smth so nasty hehe <3
Despite showcasing time and time again his proclivity for cruelty, he's once again faced with the inevitable sight of your backside— God knows what your front is facing, probably just some dirt, but he can't find it within himself to care all too much when your ass shakes from side to side in your pathetic attempts to free yourself. Down on the ground where you belong, you're real cute, y'know that? Like a spell on him, he watches. He can almost convince himself that you meant to get caught, only because you look so pretty under him like this. His eyes narrow in on the way your skirt inches further up your waist with every accidental tug against the jagged fence holding you down, the little yelps you let out when metal scratches against your skin sends shivers down to his cock.
Of which is hard, unsurprisingly. The filthy degenerate he knows he is, of course he's hard when you're bent over and defenceless— it's how he likes you best. Just a dumb little girl looking for any excuse to get fucked, is that it?
"Need help?" He asks rhetorically, because it's rather clear that you do, in fact, need some help. All the wiggling around your doing is only helping you undress, and he's sure that's not what your main goal is. But far be it for him to complain when you're offering yourself up to him on a silver platter, intentionally or not. Like the pleasure-seeker he is, he leans into his more hedonistic ways and pinches at your thighs. Just because he can. Because he wants to hear you pout.
"Duh." You respond with another shake of your hips, a useless attempt to swat his prying hands away, and he immediately tuts at the attitude you've adopted.
His gaze zeros in on your ass, squatting down behind you only to flip your skirt up the rest of the way, sucking on his teeth sharply at the sight of your cute panties. Good girl, he thinks to himself. But he'd rather die than say his praise out loud. No, no, dumb sluts like you don't deserve praise for getting themselves in such obviously bad situations, do they?
He instinctively hooks a finger under your panties, knuckles brushing up against your pretty little slit before he pings the fabric back against your most sensitive parts. A sneaky smirk splayed on his lips when you yelp in return. "Is this helping?" He asks, unable to hide the smile in his words when he repeats the bullying action again, knowing that he's really only making your situation worse. Isn't that just so fun, though?
"Quit it! Whitneyyy—" You whine in annoyance, but his messed up mind easily recognises the high pitched tone as excitement. An undeniable thirst for more of his teasing, right? And you're in luck too, his cock twitching for attention in his pants; tenting in your direction. He'd only asked you to steal some cigarettes for him, and if you were determined enough to get free from the fence, he's sure you could in a heartbeat. Does that mean... You want him to tease you?
Surely, right? Slipping under the fence is easy enough, he's done it countless times before himself. Though, when cocking his head to the side to properly assess the situation, his palm coming down to lazily rub at his leaking tip over his clothes, he notices just how stuck you really are. How your clothes threaten to rip if you were to move too much in one direction, and he knows you haven't got enough money to replace another school shirt given that he ruined the last one. Filthy slut, this is your own fault.
"C'mon," He leers, shuffling to get his cock closer to you until it rubs against your ass all hot and heavy, a satisfied sigh escaping him when you gasp at the contact. You're so fucking hot it honestly annoys him, the way you're completely unaware of how inherently lewd your pretty little body is, beads of precum rolling down his length to stain his pants sheer. You'll have to clean them up later, preferably with your tongue. "I'll help ya out, but y'gotta pay up first."
It's clear what his intent is through how his rough hands find home on your hips, keeping himself stable from his squatting position just as much as he's trying to keep you pinned in place. A gentle rock of his hips forward against your clothed cunt and he's already reeling from how good it feels to be in control like this, nails digging into your soft skin as if he were mounting you like a dog.
"I— I mean, sure, fuck, whatever Whitney. Just help me before we get caught, okay?"
He muses about your usage of the word we, internally deciding that if anyone were to show up in the middle of his bullying, he'd simply act the fool to your thief ways. But nonetheless, he continues. He'd continue whether or not he had your consent, but it's easier when you're not fighting back.
Humping his cock against you always feels good, his attention drawn to the growing wet patch on your cute panties, and how his mouth salivates with a want to taste. He's not sure if it's from himself or your hole, but it's pretty to look at nonetheless. But he's meant to be a punishing you anyway, not indulging in his oral fixation. A reminder that he owns you, and that if you fuck up in his presence, you'll be swiftly reprimanded.
"So pretty," He hums to himself, a light heat rising to his cheeks at the recognition of his praise, biting down on his bottom lip out of embarrassment for a mere moment before correcting himself. "But so dumb." A laugh follows, crawled up his chest and forced out his dry throat.
He angles his cock down with his thumb, letting his hips rut against your hidden hole only a few times before impatience takes hold of him— and the fact that your hushed voice reminds him not to get caught. Not that it matters to him whether or not you get in trouble for stealing, it's just that he'd rather be the only one to see you so exposed and helpless like this. Possessively grabbing at your ass to spread your cheeks open, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull at the slight sight of your pretty holes.
Fuck it, he thinks. You rile him up so easily, and he hates himself for it. How the smallest glimpse of your asshole has his balls tightening, the mere thought of fucking your cute little cunt causes his muscles to tense in anticipation. So fucking annoying how just by existing you manage to coax him into further degeneracy, a little tempting wiggle of your ass being all he needs to quickly tug his bottoms down and shiver into the cold air that kisses his tip.
He better shove it in already to warm back up.
"Hurry up Whitney!" You whine, and the urgency in your meek voice causes a shiver to roll down his spine. "Are you trying to get us—"
Fuck, fucking shut up, a harsh pull of your panties later and he's shoving his cock inside of you with only his copious amount of precum and your meagre amount of slick for lube. The silent yelp he fucking knows you want to let out crawls under his skin, settles nice and thick in his tummy as he bullies his cock inside of you with quick snap thrusts. Only coating his length in as much lubrication as possible, a little pain is nice, but he isn't aiming to actually hurt you. Doesn't wanna damage his goods, yknow? So he continues the shallow thrusts until he can easily glide his cock all the way inside, balls deep in your pretty little hole with a soft pap!
But there's no time for him to allow you the chance at growing accustomed to his fat length, drawing his hips as far back as possible without actually pulling out, his drooling tip left inside your tight cunt for a single second before he buries himself back in, again and again, starting out with such an unfair pace that it even leaves himself breathless from how good it feels, how your walls squeeze around him that bit tighter given his rough treatment, rushed huffs of air filling his ears as he humps into you from behind.
"Tryin' to—" He chokes on his words, drooling precum all over your warm insides with every greedy thrust of his cock, in love with how you're unable to do anything but sit there and fucking take it, God, he could cum on the spot if he thought about it for too long. The view of your arched back, gaze flitting to the way your hands dig into the dirt below as if it'd give you any semblance of stability when he's pounding you so hard your ass smacks back against his hips. "Tryin' to get us caught?" He barks laughter down at you, though is quickly humbled when your walls squeeze around him again, cunt sucking his cock off so well, fuck, like you're begging for him to fuck deeper. And he's all to eager to give you exasctly what your body is asking for, throwing his weight behind every fuck forward and pulling your ass back down against his cock. "Maybe— Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? Fuckin' slut."
It's as if he's talking about himself though, feet firmly planted at either side of your knees, his hands sliding down the small of your back to hold onto your waist securely, pumping his cock into you from the dog mating angle he knows you like. Such a nasty girl, aren't you? Need him to breed your little angel cunt? It's what she deserves, isn't it, for making him feel so heavenly.
His upper body follows every thrust, causing him to practically rest on top of you as much as he can, the metal from the fence digging into his skin with every loud smack of his hips against your ass, every wet squelch of your hole being forced to accept his fat cock.
But he can't deny how obviously into getting caught he is too, the thought alone causing his cock to tremble inside of you with excitement. Look at her, this is my slut, hear how pretty she sounds when moaning my name like that? Deep seated primal instinct rumbling in his core when you whine and gasp for more, taking his cock so well that he's forced into huffing above you like he's in heat or something. It's gross, really, just how much he needs everyone to know how good you are for him, and only him. Obsessed with how your pretty cunt stretches to fit hit size, how he can feel every gush of slick from your abused hole drip down to his balls, God, how badly he wants to suck at your skin right now too. Taste every inch of your slut body as some form of thanks for letting him mistreat you like this. And for the way you like it too, soaking his thighs with your sweet slick he's hungry for.
He's soooo fucking into you it's honestly a little embarrassing, hoping to hump his affection for you away by stroking your insides exactly how he knows you like, and the fact that he knows you like it a certain way both turns him on more and frustrates him to no end. He's your bully for God's sake. But you're just so pretty like this, a messy little bitch in heat for his fat cock, keening into the ground below when he fucks his annoyances out in you with faster thrusts and a tighter grip on your waist. Turning you into a squeaky toy with the croaked moans his cock fucks outta you.
"Mine" He rasps against his better judgement. "Tell me, say that you're mine—" He ends up begging, enamoured with how quickly you answer his request with wanton whines and broken sobs of his name. An unfamiliar feeling soon establishing in his tummy, all tight and taut, threatening to snap any second as he continues to fuck through it. It feels similar enough for him to have an idea of what might be coming next, but he's too busy fucking into your slutty hole to fully register the consequences until they happen. And he's so close too, balls full and heavy of seed for his favourite girl, you've taken his perversion so well, you deserve a nice treat in the form of his load, don't you?
But what comes out isn't what he'd expected, a curt "Fuckin' close—" is all the warning he's able to give you before he's burying himself as deep as possible into you and sitting still. Only for a second or two, expecting ropes to shoot into your tiny cunt like always, but streams of yellow soon spurt out of your hole as he's forced into instinctively bucking into you again, sloppy fucks in and out of your stupid wet cunt as he experiences squirting for the first time in his life. Which is mortifying considering it's you that's gotten him to the point of squirting, but fuck if he doesn't feel so good, better than anything else— because he's effectively pissing inside of you right now, and knowing that he's dirtying you in such a disgusting way only prompts him into fucking with more intent, engaging his core in an attempt to relieve himself some more inside of his favourite slut.
"What— Feels weird, Whit—" You mumble, and he can't help but laugh. Still humping his piss back into your hole, the feeling of it sloshing around his cock with every thrust convincing him to continue. How disgusting, right? Downright deplorable the way he's using you right now, marking up your insides with the scent of his piss before his seed. He can only imagine your reaction to such awful news as he settles into a faster pace once more, determined to give you a load now that he's done taking a leak: gross. So fucking gross it ends up hot in his fucked up brain.
"Jus' sit there and be pretty, slut." He orders you, "That's all y'gotta do." And he's happy when you comply immediately given the edge in his voice. It's just that he's genuinely still so close to cumming, especially after such a vile display of affection, he only needs a few more thrusts before—
There we go, fully sheathed inside your piss soaked cunt for him to empty his balls into like he'd originally intended to. The innately crude nature of mixing his seed with piss has him rolling his hips into you regardless of his want to remain still, gently massaging your cunt walls with lazy fucks while he milks himself empty as some twisted sort of reward for something you've yet to learn about.
And it doesn't take him long to recover, never does. Pulling out swiftly only to cringe at the loss of warmth, and the view of the nasty mix of fluids dripping down your stained thighs. He'd better get you out of sight from prying eyes soon, determined to be the only one allowed to see you look so sullied like this from now on.
"C'mere," He gently tugs on your waist with one hand, the other pulling the scratchy wire up and away from your body to help ease you out of your stuck position. "Y'paid me more than I could ever ask for."
"What do you mean—"
"Jus' trust me, okay slut?" He'll keep it a secret for now. Try to use his new favourite toilet in future when you're similarly unaware, relieve himself in the best way possible in private. So hot just thinking about it, fuck— he might need to fuck you again on the way home. He'll even let you cum for the way you've accidentally accepted his newfound kink, brushing you off when you're free in an uncharacteristic display of affection.
And to keep your eyes from drifting between your legs, he places a chaste, but sweet, kiss to your forehead. "Thanks." is all he says before turning away to hide the predictable blush spreading on his cheeks.
#500 event!#mm yummy#i hope this is ok!#i have another whitney piss idea tbh HAHA#but i liked this one as a sort of first time introduction thing isk#idk*#whitney the bully#dol smut#dol fanfic#degrees of lewdity smut#degrees of lewdity fanfic
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cherry wine stains 8.0
playing it a little differently and rewinding back to their school years but with an Aegon POV this time.
all previous parts in pinned.
"I like your knee-high socks."
"I like the chain you wear like a crucifix."
"Strange way to describe it."
"I don't know. It just - it hangs around your neck like the absence of something."
Her words dissolve like sugar into the cup of his mind.
Clever people don't realise the riptide of their soul is not being fed until they meet another clever person. Aegon's currents slow to a whispered crawl as his eyes trace Amara's profile, creating images in the tangle of her windswept curls.
She's left a lipstick print on his mother's favourite mug. When he sees it, his soul unhooks from where he keeps it folded away, right there at the base of his neck where the silver chain fastens.
Later, he'll kiss that print, see if the measure of his mouth is enough.
Helaena told him in private: You can't! You can't, you can't, you can't! You ruin everything!
The frantic protests of a younger sister who thinks - knows - that her older brother getting involved with one of her friends is going to end up in a loss for her. He's dated one of Helaena's friends before (it ended in the kind of operatic disaster you only ever see on Eastenders).
He does not want to date Amara as much as he wants to pry her open like a game of cat's cradle and weave apart the strings that keep her mobile. Half the time, Aegon suspects she isn't truly awake. Some part of her is drowning in slumber, deep as Briar Rose. He catches that moment sometimes, as she blinks at him with those sleepy eyes.
The texture of her thoughts - when she gives them up - slips like satin over his fingers.
"Do you want a smoke?" He flips the mint-green box in his palm and grins.
Her gaze is longing. "I told my mother I'd quit. Besides, aren't menthol cigarettes banned here?"
He shrugs, slipping one between his pinched lips to hold it steady. "Nothing's banned if you squint."
"Flawed logic," she laughs.
"She said to a drug dealer."
That makes her laugh harder. He likes making her laugh. Feels worthwhile somehow. Not much in his life feels that way these days.
The younger siblings are all growing up, leaving school, moving onto greener pastures, where the chaotic drudgery of the council estate turns into a crystalline vision in the rearview, something to put into personal statements and add what rich tossers would call flavour.
They don't need him like they used to. He and his mother have raised them to become self-sufficient and now Aegon has to figure out what he wants to do with himself because where the kids are going, they won't want to admit what their brother does - has done - for a living to ensure their survival. He predicts he'll be the family embarrassment every Christmas, the uncle that shows up drunk, with a sliver of something in his eyes that suggests he could have been something once.
He knows he won't end up that way. His need to be someone, get somewhere, is far too aggressive. But he does fear no longer being needed by the people who have relied on him so long he can no longer extricate himself from the identity of protector.
Maybe it's why he likes making Amara laugh.
She doesn't have siblings. Her eyes still dart around, nervous, as if aware her protection in this world is lacking compared to that of others. Her parents won't always be around. When they are gone, there won't be siblings to divide her grief up with. It'll just be her.
If his subconscious is turning her into his new surrogate sister, it doesn't reconcile well with the instinct that stirs when her skirt rides up an inch.
Alicent's stained glass lamp flickers, bulb on the brink of permanent death. Aegon reaches over to ensure it is screwed on properly and it affords them a last burst of weak light. Amara reaches out her hand under the dappled glow of its illumination, slipping her fingers under the violets, yellows and greens, as the crook of her elbow turns rose pink.
"I've always liked your mother's taste in furniture."
"Yeah? Take it. She wants to throw it out."
"No. If she's decided it's dead, it should go. I'll just be keeping the corpse if I took it."
Aegon's eyes wrinkle at the corners, smile disguised by the inhale of the cigarette. "It's not organic material. There's no corpse."
She glances at him, as if aware of his mockery despite the affection he delivers it with. "I think some inanimate objects come alive if they are loved enough. Alicent's had this lamp since I've known her. It's lived with her, and now it'll die. We shouldn't interrupt the process."
No wonder Helaena adores her.
They are both odd creatures, his little sister, and this intense, doll-eyed mirage that turned up at their doorstep one day, hungry for oven chips and love. She reached out her cold hands to Alicent, and found herself overwhelmed with the warmth and affection given in return.
He's known her so long, she should feel like a sibling.
What does it say about him if he can't stop wondering what it must feel like to graze his lips over her stomach and tongue that bellybutton ring she got in a short-lived fit of rebellion?
Aegon flicks aside the cigarette, mouth acidic with guilt.
He isn't the kind of person who wants. Other people want. Aegon goes out and gets. There isn't enough time to submerge in the feeling of want and understand the true depth of craving the human soul can achieve.
But he sees the whorl of soft hair at the nape of her neck and the feeling crawls up the rungs of his ribcage like a creature possessed. He pictures being small enough to curl up in the soft folds of her clothing, to soak in the scent of her until he passes out from exhaustion.
That feels like enough wanting for today.
"I'll see you downstairs, yeah?"
If she looks disappointed, it's just wishful thinking on his part. She knows he's not going anywhere. He'll be in the living room with the rest of the family who've put on Shrek and are split into two groups - the half that sings along, and the half that won't.
"I'll be down in a bit."
"Cool."
A sudden gust of wind lifts her hair, and the flimsy ribbon comes loose. He catches it before it finds freedom. She turns, expectant, waiting for the inevitable return of her almost-lost property. He pulls it between his fingers, wonders if it also carries life inside the woven thread, the way she claimed his mother's lamp does.
The weight of her hair rivals Isolde's.
Irish myths were a rooted part of his childhood, laced into Alicent's quiet voice every bed time. She swears the Hightowers are mostly, if not fully, Irish. But she could never be sure of how far back, or of the intricacies of any bloodlines. Rich people have the luxury of unfurling a family tree across the polished mahogany of their dining room table. They get to find their eyes, noses and mouths in the faces of people who lived too long ago to care what has become of their DNA.
Poor people make do with maybes and perhaps because most of the time, the lives of their ancestors are of no interest to anyone but themselves. Unless a mining forefather was crushed in a collapse and the resulting riots tore down a political establishment.
So, his mother pulled them back to times so ancient, the ancestors became common for all, their bloodlines too distant to maintain individuality.
If Tristan and Isolde are in Aegon's ancestry, that past life becomes tangible when he runs his fingers through Amara's hair and tames it into a braid he's practiced on Helaena a hundred times.
"There's something mythical about your hair," he says, and then cuts himself short because he deals drugs for a living, and whatever fancy thought this was about to be would make more sense from someone more booksmart.
She cranes her neck back and gives him the brightest upside-down smile. "That's the best compliment anyone's ever given me."
Aegon bites the inner corner of his lip and nudges her to look straight so he can keep braiding.
Once her eyes are off his face, it splits into a smile. Warmth drains down his spine like gold egg yolk poured from its shell. Once the braid is done, he rests his chin on the top of her head, and passes it off as brotherly with a goldfish-squeeze of her cheeks.
He lingers, inhales deep, smells her, turns her scent into binary code that he will decipher in isolation later.
"Don't be too long. You'll catch your death out here."
#aegon ii targaryen#modern aegon#aegon ii x oc#aegon x oc#aegon ii fanfic#aegon ii fic#aegon x amara#scalyfreakswrites#house of the dragon#aegon targaryen#cherry wine stains part eight#modern hotd au#Spotify#alicent hightower#hotd oc#helaena targaryen
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This is going more pissa (romantic, correct?) and might have some...implied nsfw....?
My thoughts is very scrambled, and I have so much to say.
I always think about Origins!Smp Philza meeting Q! Missa...
Missa who probably got lost during his way back in his travels of finding Q! Philza a gift! Missa is determined to find the right one, to show how much Philza means to him and that he deserves something better....
But, uh, Missa wasn't currently sure where he was and now he's upset, not angry, but upset... How is he supposed to find the greatest gift, a treasure when he cannot even find his way back home! How?! He was on the right trail and still got horribly lost...He should have just brought a map and compass with him, but he didn't because he was confident with himself that he would find his way back. He always found his way back one way or another, even if it took much longer...but while he tries to find his way back, he'll just keep looking for a good gift for Philza
....
Missa, who, stops in his track when he sees two large familiar wings. Oh, ohhhh, oh lady death spare him, because apparently he was never lost at all?? Philza is here??? RIGHT HERE AND HE DOESN'T HAVE A GIFT- DIOS MIO
Missa was just ready to cry right there and decided he was just gonna have to make up whatever lie and present he has in his backpack, he lost his backpack
Missa was too distracted, muttering and quietly sobbing to himself that he wasn't aware that Philza already noticed his presence.
Well... O! Philza, to be more exact, who immediately noticed a new presence in his territory..his home.... He was curious to see what this new person was, and what bravery they had to be so willing to enter and well.... He wasn't sure what to make of this strange fella who wore a skeleton mask, and dressed in purple and blue with a few chains that seemed to be connected around his neck to his armor shoulder, with another skeleton over it as decoration...
O! Philza is a little disappointed, but he doesn't think this new stranger would have anything good for him...he looks... pitiful and pathetic like some wet cat.
O! Philza was about to leave until suddenly Missa called out for him and he almost tripped over his own feet, because how does this stranger know his name—
Annndd why is he crying— Oh Lady Death help him-
Missa tried to be brave, help him, he tried but he immediately broke down crying because he honestly didn't know what to say or offer as an apology gift, so all he could do was give a sorry lame apology to Philza for not being around and letting him take care of their two beautiful eggs/children all by himself
It took a minute for O! Philza to process and awkwardly stop Missa that he genuinely has no idea who he is or why he is here and that they don't have no kids and if he's gone insane— (O! Philza has standards, thank you very much- While Missa is very cute in his opinion, he doesn't plan on having anymore children nor does he recall ever adopting. Who the heck is Chayanne and Tallulah)
After some awkward conversation, O! Philza did finally offer Missa to stay at a nearby village until he can figure out how to...get him back to Quesadilla Island, back to his Philza and his kids. Missa is forever grateful to this weird other version of his platonic husband, and decided he'd lighten up the village as a thank you!
....How does one lighten up a village anyways?
..Missa will figure it out.
Missa itches every little instinct in O! Philza, and it's such a curse and blessing. The way Missa screams, and immediately clings to O! Philza without any hesitance, crying for him to save him.
The way Missa found some bravery in him to finally ask if he could preen his wings, because gods, he knows how important wings are to them and he wasn't gonna let O! Philza walk around, with dirty wings, like that any longer. He was so gentle as he tended to every feather and even as an extra bonus, he gave a massage to O! Philza and his wings as well!
Missa, in O! Philza opinion, is a god send...
Missa is super attentive, makes delicious meals that he's never heard of before and most of all, despite being weak, he still tries and is willing to put himself out there if it means his family and friends were safe. O! Philza may have...purposely stopped searching for a way to send Missa back and instead send Missa further and deeper into the forest...deeper where no one can find him.
Further away from civilization. O! Philza wanted to be the one to save him each time, to be the only one he speaks with... But Missa already has a home, his own Philza and kids.
That burned deep in O! Philza brain. Missa wasn't mated, as far as he can tell, there's no bite mark, no scent or anything (Though it could be because Missa has been traveling so the scent must have worn off), and yet he has kids! Literal actual children they take care of and takes after those two...
Now O! Philza loves kids, don't get him wrong, but even he doesn't know where Missa came from and as far as he can tell, someone must have purposely dropped Missa here without telling anyone and now he's just stuck here, so oh well.
But Missa never stops talking about them....He doesn't stop. He talks and talks about them, and O! Philza wonders how red Missa's face will get if he kisses him to shut him up.
Will Missa quiet down if he gave Missa kids?
O! Philza isn't quite sure of what anatomy Missa has, but he knows Missa isn't human at all to some degree, so it's possible...he could....
The idea of Missa being— He's getting distracted. He could just fetch some other fledglings from another nest, but...he knows it won't quiet Missa for long. It's not his biological ones, not the real ones but...
...Hm.
Mm.
O! Philza might not be so against the idea after all of Missa entering his nest. It has been awfully quiet and empty anyways...
#pissa#thoughts#too many thoughts#missasinfonia#o!philza#help#i wrote something#perishes#qsmp???#missa qsmp#q!missa#mentioned q!philza#missa design is a reference to maepletea design#yandere implied
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Lest you think I only have good things to say about TGCF forever--well, that's ultimately true but I'm also ultimately annoyed about the treatment of Hua Cheng as a character.
Listen. Wanting to put your god on a pedestal and lick the floor for him/die for him/efface your entire self for him AND fuck him through the floor/violate every part of his body until he begs for mercy/tease him and embarrass him so much he can't stand his own skin AND live as BFF husbands on somewhat even footing are three very different things.
I want to see how Hua Cheng reconciles being quite honestly ready to murder the first person in sight because Xie Lian had some slight question about his devotion to his god's cause, with purposely embarrassing him and teasing him and calling him gege. But we don't really get anything about his private thoughts? He is never presented as having inner conflicts, other than regret that Xie Lian has suffered pain?
Like, there is a suggestion that he knows his obsession with Xie Lian and the ways in which he is obsessed could be seen as creepy and freakish, but it gets washed away when Xie Lian says it doesn't bother him and still wants to kiss him. There are several demonstrations of his self-loathing, and yet it doesn't get aired like everyone else's dirty laundry does.
And then there's the part where you find out that Hua Cheng has sacrificed a part of his body rather than any part of a group of humans who were doomed to die anyway. And you know that this is a huge deal for him, because the whole reason he was with those humans at Mt Tonglu was so that he could be strong enough to come back to Xie Lian and protect him. Except we also know that again, Hua Cheng had no compunction about helping Xie Lian commit genocide and regocide and countless murders; like he had no interest or respect for human life at all when it came to doing whatever Xie Lian bid him to do. So it's in fact a huge fucking deal that in the end, Hua Cheng would rather hurt himself than anybody else, except that is not really explored in the novel.
I mean, you can say that the only reason Hua Cheng-as-Wuming didn't care about murders was that Xie Lian wanted the murders, which made the murders all justified in Wuming's mind, and, that since Xie Lian wasn't there at Mt Tonglu, Hua Cheng just had to go with his own instincts instead of Xie Lian wanting murders, so in the end Hua Cheng's own instinct was self-sacrifice. You could also say, I guess, that Hua Cheng hated his eye anyway so it's not the same sort of sacrifice it would have been had it been another body part.
But even if that's the case, I'd want it to be explored. Like, isn't it likely that Hua Cheng chose self-sacrifice because he knew Xie Lian would choose self-sacrifice, because he knew that a Xie Lian not driven mad with grief and pain would not want to harm others to further his own cause? At the same time, Hua Cheng is not shown to make choices that will align with Xie Lian's values at other parts in the book. In fact, Hua Cheng consciously and purposely makes choices that he thinks could or even would disgust Xie Lian, because it's more important to Hua Cheng to make those choices if they protect and preserve Xie Lian than it is for Hua Cheng to make choices that would make Xie Lian look at him fondly or proudly. So, it's such a big deal that deep down, Hua Cheng does want to care about and protect others, even people who aren't Xie Lian, but it's just mentioned in passing at almost the very end and never explored.
And then these 800 years, what was Hua Cheng even doing? I mean, I get it, it takes a lot of time to carve ten thousand statues, especially the ones where you need to get his cock just right for....reasons, but I thought we were going to get some kind of explanation of what he did during this time. Why did he decide to finally approach Xie Lian when he did? Like, I think the conversation between Xie Lian and Hua Cheng-as-the-little-ghost-fire is supposed to explain part of why Hua Cheng stayed away for so long--XL says "if your beloved knows you couldn't find peace just because you wanted to protect them, wouldn't they feel guilty?" And the ghost says that then he would just protect his beloved from afar.
But was Hua Cheng protecting Xie Lian? Because it seems like Xie Lian getting trampled to death (as "General" Hua) and then getting killed and buried in a coffin (as State Preceptor Fengxin) is not very protective? Like, Hua Cheng did a bad job there.
It seems like the fics I'm reading are going with the idea that Hua Cheng couldn't find Xie Lian. Hua Cheng does say he did search for Xie Lian and couldn't find him, but we know this is a bald-faced lie. Hua Cheng says this when Xie Lian asks him if Hua Cheng ever saw him outside of Xianle, because Xie Lian has become concerned that Hua Cheng saw his downfall after his banishment and his descent into genocidal madness before his second ascension. But we know that Hua Cheng did see that, which means Hua Cheng is very much lying about not being able to find Xie Lian after the fall of Xianle.
But sure, you can posit that after Hua Cheng-as-Wuming almost disperses all the way and then comes back, he can't find Xie Lian again. I think you can also assume that Wuming's dispersal is more total and complete than Hua Cheng's dispersal after he breaks Xie Lian's shackles, so I think you can easily posit that it takes Hua Cheng at least a century to return as a complete person after Xie Lian's second ascension/banishment. And I can imagine that even after fully returning amassing wealth and power takes time, but here's where I get stumped--Hua Cheng is does not read as someone who would sit around and wait to have enough wealth and power to protet Xie Lian before trying to protect Xie Lian. I imagine that the first thing he does as soon as he can like, move independently in the world is look for him, even if only to help him from afar. And yet, as previously stated...Xie Lian really didn't seem like he got much help in those 800 years.
Perhaps we can assume that once Xie Lian ascends (why does he ascend the third time? Never addressed? Also annoyed about this) Black Water/Earth Master/He Xuan now can report on Xie Lian's exact whereabouts, but there's still no good explanation for why super over-powered Hua Cheng would not be able to find Xie Lian for 800 years. I mean, it's not exactly a needle in a haystack here. Xie Lian is a singular person. Just follow disaster, honestly. I guess Hua Cheng didn't know about the shackle on Xie Lian's luck, but he has figured out a lot of Xie Lian's past, right? I don't understand why he hasn't figured that out.
(And another thing--does Hua Cheng even know why Xie Lian got banished the second time? Does he even know that Xie Lian asked for the shackles? Doesn't he want to know everything he possibly can about Xie Lian? If he's unwilling to ask, I'd understand, but again--everyone else's dirty laundry gets out there, but here there's this thing that is so central to Hua Cheng's and Xie Lian's relationship, unexplored.)
My problem isn't that Hua Cheng lives and exists for Xie Lian. That's who he is, and I think I wouldn't like or love him as a character if I thought he needed to have more in his life than his single-minded devotion. But single-minded devotion can contain a lot more dimension and conflict than I think ultimately got explored, and there are and some super salient events in his life that are really defining moments. It makes him feel a lot more one-dimensional than I feel like the character is set up to be.
The fic so far honestly gives him a more interesting treatment, imo. He's a lot more tortured about whether to fuck or worship and how to do both, which I guess I'm ultimately saying is what I really want from that character. I find him deeply lovable, interesting, and fascinating, I just didn't think the book really spent time with the most interesting parts of him.
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btw in my world halsin himself speaks to any partner of tav's that is potentially entering into a poly dynamic with them, whether they discussed that as a triad or a v - really, in my world, they all three of them sit down and talk about it together to air any reservations and/or misconceptions. if there is ever anything less than enthusiastic consent given for the negotiated arrangement, he will recuse himself, expressing his best wishes for the couple.
#* ooc.#the way he's written in canon sometimes reminds me of someone i knew in my hometown and oh it gives me the ick.#the appearance of a poly/kink savant but when you actually hold a mirror up to the meat of what's going on... it's missing a lot#some of that is constraints of the medium i understand#but i hate Particularly in the case of karlach how... you cannot communicate to him any of the complexity in her position on the matter#and he doesn't care. 'she said yes? great no further questions LET'S FUCK TONIGHT'#it's... he should have the emotional awareness to know that there's a lot more discussion to have when these people are new to it#when they don't get it instinctively like he does
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#David Tennant#Alec Hardy#Ellie Miller#Broadchurch#my gifs#Yes they're talking about something extremely serious.#But can you see soft way his eyes tenderly trace her eyes and just rest on her face like it's the best thing he could look at?#He spends so long just looking at her -- and she is so mindful of his comfort level and RARELY looks back when he's looking at her.#If he's looking at her she's always looking ahead or down or away.#Except if she needs to hold his gaze to get a message across. Like go make some tea. Or if they're both worried.#This reminds me -- she is so naturally instinctively understanding of him#We rarely hear her addressing him by name after the rant that falls out of him when he has dinner at her place in S1.#She gets that simply looking at someone while you're talking to them is enough. And you don't need to tack on their name on top of that.#Which astounded me actually! I wondered if Chris Chibnall had spent some time around an autistic person!#Because I feel EXACTLY like Alec does abt names! I hate names. I hate using them. It's so unnecessary.#I'm not as outspoken as him though so I use them when I can't get out of it. But I hate it and I hate ppl using my name.#That scene was ASTOUNDING I'm telling you -- it took my breath away to find my very specific struggle onscreen!#Anyway. Yeah. She doesn't bug him or insist even though to her it's second nature.#I bet you she's very good at coming up with pet names -- another thing my autistic brain shrieks at and sth I suspect Alec finds impossible#Oh Ellie -- beautiful beautiful adorable strong wronged Ellie!#Wronged by everyone except him <3#Well and a few others -- Mark was kind to her despite his pain. Brian never treated her badly that we know of.#I will always love them for that.#I wish Jack had survived -- I think he would've been kind too. Maybe she would've hidden in his store when it got too much.
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pretty sure i’ve seen romance movies with scenes like this
#tomgreg#where do i even start with t his horseshit okay here we fucking go.#so tom's first instinct is to go to greg when he's on shaky ground with shiv. the only way he feels safe is to have GREG with him.#who tf would want greg as an attack dog??!?!? lets be fucking real. when he says that i think he means just a dog. just someone loyal.#who loves him and won't dick him around. i think he's pretty tired of it by now.#he wants an alliance with like. ok in this show who would you pick to ally with. i love greg but he's abso useless in terms of skills that#would keep you safe. if anything TOM would keep HIM safe. in fact tom himself says who else has taken care of you. literally spells it out.#he even says greg is a joke; will fail; will fuck up; so what use does he have for tom other than companionship. other than love?#a dog might do tricks for you but your main reason for getting one is usually love. right? at least it should be. it would be in tom's case.#and don't even fucking get me STARTED on ''do you wanna come with me? ...sporus?" like girl.#you know what you told him about nero and sporus right. and now you're saying to him; yeah i was talking about you.#you and me. you're my favourite and i wasn't joking when i said i'd marry you.#the whole while tom is asking greg to be his attack dog his fuckin. eyes and expression we get it you're in love with him. like it's ridic.#and all this coming with phrasing it sounds like they're fucking ELOPING. I HATE IT!!!!!! SHUT UP! stop saying that fucking shit god. god#they are so annoying. anyway#the way tom's voice breaks as he says he has things to do [what things. will i find out later.] and the deal and!!#what am i gonna do with a soul anyways... i have you what do i need it for. and as that paragraph said somewhere. he castrates his soul.#then they giggle and are fucking annoying and greg'S HANDS LOOK LIK EHE'S ABOUT TO IDK. HUG TOM? AROUND THE MIDDLE MAYBE#or do something else. and then they just hug instead and i fucking. ugh. i've had enough tbh good fucking bye
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You’re gonna die if you keep that up (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#ZEX#Kayako#And Teisel's there technically#*Die again - he's sticking with his track record lol at least he's consistent#Ghost/Curse GF arc!! I enjoy seeing ZEX happy but I am Concerned for him lol#ZEX be attracted to something/one that won't brutally murder him challenge - difficulty impossible#His affection for the grotesque and monstrous - I mean while it's admirable he does regularly put himself in dangerous situations!#Runs solely on the Suspension Bridge Effect lol - attraction and fear so conflated in his mind <3#I keep thinking of his human instincts as specifically Max's instincts since it's his body - Max's self-preservation and fear and hunger#Which ZEX dutifully ignores lol Max's body tells him to bolt and privately replies like ''Yes yes in a moment'' haha#His fascination wins out! To his own detriment haha#Although I say all that as though I don't relate in my own way - I have maybe just a few too many notes relating to ZEX lol#It's always been hard for me to get into horror in the way it's intended to spook and scare because I tend to get sad :')#So many monsters and ghosts and creatures are victims of circumstance! Like Kayako! As she is here she's not even malicious just dangerous#I've never seen the Grudge so it's only speculation but it seems very sad that she was tethered as a Curse rather than a malignant spirit#Like a battery moreso than an individual - what a terrible after-existence! It makes me sad to consider!#ZEX reaching out to her in his own way is very sweet <3 He's so biased towards his darlings hehe#In a way being human does suit him - we'll packbond with anything that Might have even the slightest inclination to not maim us lol#And the way he personifies her! (VUXonifies her?) Reading intention or emotion into her actions with no proof and no understanding!#The way he ''tries to read her face'' as if he hasn't been struggling with that this entire time - with other humans who can tell him so ♪#His pride is so delicious <3 He is so easily blinded to his own shortcomings in the face of pleasure and the potential for connection!#It's no wonder DAX worries about him so much hehe ♥#It also always makes me so happy to have something fit together so perfectly like those last two hehe <3#That vine didn't exist when this happened! But there it is!! I love newer memes on older media hehehe ♪♫
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sigh i guess it's less about "it should have happened earlier" and more "it doesn't feel like there's going to be enough time to resolve this"
#i've talked through what i instinctively didn't like about this episode on several occasions today now#and... yeah every part of what boeing is causing in sandray is true to character#(boundary issues possessiveness etc)#but i guess there's just. not enough time to devote to everything i wanted for them#when we have to do boeing hours#i don't object to the plot point at all (i am a jealous ray afficionado as we know)#its just that theres stuff i wanted sandray to cover that they havent and its starting to look like they wont#(sand breakdown. how does he get by without selling plum wine. etc)#and i just....... man we didnt need this#if we must have it i understand why#and i see the character points#and i love angry little ray i do#but. sigh. do you get me#rowan chatter#also boeing does not have human motivations but that's... you know. genre a little bit
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