#and have to find themselves and each other again

[star2fishmeg]

ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛʟʏ | sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x afab!reader Summary | six years later Quinn and y/n find themselves back in the place it started and old memories truly are precious...but so are new ones Authors Note | enjoy the (long) blurb @thehugheslover, sorry it took so long! This is only going to make sense if you read Feel This Way!!

The familiar clink of pool balls hitting each other, music at a moderate volume but mainly muffled by laughter and chatting and the back doors wide, opening the basement onto the patio where meat roasted on the barbeque under the balmy sun. Everything had stayed. The world was almost the same as they were back as teenagers but this time, they weren’t as naive, and everyone had grown up. Really grown up, into adults with jobs and lives, new ambitions and what happened six years ago were nothing but fond memories protected by the walls of the lake house. 

Y/n and Quinn sat on the sofa, turned slightly to face each other so they could look out into the rest of the room, her finger gently brushing over the stain between them. The second her skin touched the fabric, it all came flooding back like film tapes, the night Brady stayed over in particular. 

“We were so stupid, but it was a lot of fun,” she began with a chuckle, Quinn turning his head in interest, watching her trace around the splotch, “The Vodka Incident, when Brady brought that vodka, and we all thought it was fucking amazing.”

Cole’s voice groaned out from the distance, followed by Trevor and Jack’s obnoxious laughing, clearly relishing in Cole losing their game of pool. The couple giggled, glancing over at the group, their memories fading in and suddenly they were bought back to that night, and they were sixteen with three fifteen-year-olds and little Luke sat in a circle. The way Cole’s face had screwed up hideously, Jack and Trevor’s attempts to be ‘cool’ but landed them both in the bathroom and gagging and Luke tucked into her side most the night. 

“Yeah, Luke used to cling to you all the time, he was literally your shadow,” he said, watching Luke take a cocky bow after a successful turn, “and Brady, oh my God, you two used to torture me, like, come on, ‘who do you currently have a crush on?’ while you were sitting on my lap? You two killed me.”

Y/n laughed fondly, watching Brady enter the basement waving tongs like a magic wand, passionately interrupting the guys by fact checking them about something too muffled to make out from where she was sat. She then remembered the argument she and Brady fell into that everyone retold as if they’d thrown fists at each other, “Honestly, I thought you’d be jealous that I’m close with Brady too, but I was so wrong.”

“How about we not bring up my teenage insecurity, I felt so lame,” he smiled, hand taking hers and interlacing their fingers. He remembered that part too well, Jack and Luke loved to bring it up with him because for them, it was peak comedy and a learning curve on what not to do. Watching it happen was not as funny, but Quinn was their older brother, so how could it not be funny? “You don’t even understand, y/n, I got a scolding, from Jack.”

“Well, I was also lame so we’re even. Luke told my brother about the whole thing and that fucker did not let me live it down.” She grinned and placed a kiss on his nose, “You know what he said? ‘Yeah, everyone knew Quinnifer was, like, in love with you’ the little loser.” 

He groaned playfully at the nickname, even after all the years her brother still called him that. He really couldn’t escape that one, he’d somehow obtained it during college, y/n’s brother just started calling him Quinnifer out of the blue and his only explanation being that the women love it and it’s catchy, but it was better than other thing’s he’d been called.

Looking back over at the group, their friends that’d grown up with them, but whose personalities hadn’t changed, they wondered what it’d be like if they were sixteen again, and what they’d do differently. But they weren’t sixteen anymore and all the angst had been and gone, that chapter closed. Quinn was captain of the Vancouver Canucks and y/n was flying in her own career, and while they’d achieved so much by twenty-five, Quinn still had a list he wanted before he could feel satisfied.

Moonlight shimmering over the ripples of the lake, warm lanterns illuminating along the dock just like it always had. Y/n and Quinn’s bare feet padded along the wood leisurely, hands encased in each other’s and not a word spoken between them, they just needed a bit of peace away from everyone, even just for a moment. Passing the boats harboured up, Mila came to mind. Not in any other way than what happened that day and how he felt y/n’s desperate, burning glares from the other side of the boat, how he wished it was y/n breasts pressed against his shoulders and not some random girl’s. 

“I should’ve just told you how I felt from the start,” Quinn mumbled, but his voice clear from the serenity of the dock, nothing but crickets singing and distant chatter, “Like, we wouldn’t have had to go through that confusing, are-we-are-we-not phase. I can’t believe I was such a pussy.” 

Y/n giggled, swinging their arms, “Don’t blame yourself, I was also responsible. I told most the story to some friends in college, and even they thought it was obvious we liked each other. I sort of wish we hadn’t had that situationship, like, we were just hurting ourselves.”

“Yeah, no, I agree. Had me crying myself to sleep, it was fucking stupid.” 

“I know, Jack told me the night of the Vodka Incident, he saw you crying when we were going to sleep.” She didn’t need Jack to tell her Quinn cried that night, she felt his tears on her skin and the way he’d squeezed her like she would evaporate, his favourite teddy bear. She just never said anything, no need to bring up the painful past when they were living in their own paradise in the future. 

The more time she spent in the lake house, the more the memories swirled in her mind, not dwelling just remembering the times she couldn’t during the hockey season. The lake was a sanctuary, a museum of youth that held so many minor details you’d never see unless you were searching for them, like the names etched into the decking, aged but still prominent.

Quinn glanced down, barely reading the names scratched into the wood until he walked over something he distinctively remembered scratching with Brady, right before they were off to college; Q + y/n in a heart. He stopped right above it, tugging y/n back to face him, sweat forming on the back of his neck with butterflies in his stomach. Y/n blinked twice at him before raising a brow. He pulled his hand away, wiping both on his shorts before taking a deep breath.

“Uh, hey, listen…” his eyes shifted to her ‘Q’ necklace, to her eyes and then back to the etching on the floorboards before her necklace again.

“Q?” she asked, head flooding with multiple scenarios, piecing together location and their ages, his sweating, the fizzling in her chest and down to her stomach, “Oh God, you’re not getting traded, are you?”

His eyes widened, “Huh? No, no, Jesus no. It’s uh…well…um, just wanted to tell you how much I love you and appreciate you. You’ve, um, been by my side forever and I’ve been, uh, thinking about the future…”

He dropped to one knee, sliding a little, velvet box from his pocket and held it out in front of her, eyes sparkling under all the little lamps but more importantly because when he looked at her, he saw the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. The most caring, supportive, girlfriend. His best friend who, no matter what, never gave up on him. He gazed at her with dilated pupils that may have well been hearts. Y/n’s eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as she gasped gently, hands covering her mouth, and she struggled to hold back the tears welling in her eyes.

“Y/n L/n, I have loved you since we were fifteen and only you can make me feel this way. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with, in sickness and in health. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” Quinn’s voice shook, not a filler word tumbling out for once. All those days rehearsing his speech in the mirror paid off, all that stress lifting off his shoulders and she watched his hands tremble.

Y/n nodded desperately, tears spilling down her cheeks, “Yes, of course!” 

He grinned from ear to ear, corners of his eyes creasing as his eyes watered, wiggling the ring - polished with her birthstone - from the cushioning and sliding it onto her finger, his arms wrapping around her waist firmly. He held her close into his chest, spinning her around with his face buried in her shoulder, his heart swelling. When they rounded back to their original spot, they melted into each other’s bodies as they always had, t-shirts soaking up the salty tears of joy, the realisation of how far they’d come hitting them like bricks. Y/n and Quinn Hughes, forever and always. Their new chapter, with new adventures and the start of their own little family one day.

small worlds | @bunbunbl0gs

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[melina-mellow]

Timebomb brainrot has consumed me and I've started noticing some takes/misinterpretations so I have few words I'd like to share.

Warning y'all right now it's going to be a long ass RANT.

Let's start off with the AU timeline, okay?

Did people not pick up on the fact that AU Powder and Ekko were already in a relationship...?

Cause, it's obvious in the episode with the way AU Powder interacts with Ekko, and how other characters speak around them.

Ekko even says "can we pretend it's the first time" before they kiss! Cause it is the first time he gets to kiss the girl he loves, but for AU Powder this is just her kissing her boyfriend who she has done so many times before.

Genuinely, where is all this "she's gonna leave her universe and find OG Ekko" and "She's in love with OG Ekko" coming from?

She wouldn't just leave her Ekko, her boyfriend, to chase after another version of him, ntm abandoning her family and friends too.

The time OG Ekko and AU Powder had was nice, don't get me wrong, but they both have versions of Ekko/Jinx in their respective universes that they love... they're not leaving them for other versions of themselves.

Now onto our boy saviour and what the take away for him was after staying in the AU actually was.

AU Powder and AU Ekko's relationship shows our Ekko what could have been if their circumstances were different. Not just for him and Jinx, but their friends and families too.

Ekko literally apologized because he gave up on his worlds Jinx.

His time there made him finally realise that he has always loved and is still in love with his world's Jinx...it's just that seeing things in this AU finally smacked him out of him constantly denying that.

Let me also remind you the first thing he does is go to save her (boy saviour moment) but unlike the last time with Silco.....he refuses to give up on her.

And this time he succeeds. They showed up to war covered in each other's colors and marked with each other's tags.

....and in the end, the last time we see him he's mourning her.

The girl he loves.

His Jinx.

He got her back....only to lose her again.

It makes all of this a bigger tragedy...

The boy who shattered time...in the end didn't have enough time with the girl he loves.

TLDR: Ekko and Jinx/Powder may love each other in every universe, but that don't mean they'll just ditch their respective Ekko or Jinx/Powder cause their yearning for another version of them (they're not)

This is not a Miraculous Ladybug situation, we are not going to do any love squares or hexagons or octagons or whatever the hell Marinette and Adrian morphed into.

[bloggerspam]

So, Christmas Break is a bust.

Danny and Tucker managed to find two separate bombs, of the 10 that Riddler had set up, and made it into a competition, per usual.

Sam and Val were taken, again per usual, as unwilling team-mates.

Mostly, they were there to fight off whatever goons they happened to come across as Danny and Tucker relished the riddles and games.

Danny and Tucker had both been elbow deep in the guts of their respective bombs, when Red Robin and Signal had shown up, and harangued them into backing off and disabling the bombs themselves.

Val and Sam were dismayed when Red Robin and Signal were also in a competition and were tied for one each as well.

Danny and Tucker were pouting the entire time the vigilantes were scolding them, and were even more dismayed to find out that the rest of the bat brood had dealt with the rest of the bombs whilst they were being scolded.

Red Robin was not happy to find out he had lost his competition because Danny was, and Val quotes, obstinate and terrible at listening to orders.

It turns out, Oracle is real (much to Tucker's delight) and was able to disable two bombs (much to Riddler's dismay) remotely before Blackbat went to pick them up.

Not that Val was eavesdropping or anything, from where she was sitting beside Tucker (Sam and Tucker were never on the same team, due to bickering).

The point is, Val and Sam had suffered the whining for the remainder of their break.

But Red Hood did find them after, Spoiler hanging back on the top of the roof, to ask them not to put themselves in danger.

It was both hilarious and cute. Like, resident Crime Lord say what?

But then again, Val had first row seat to how disgustingly smitten Jason was with Danny, so really, who was surprised? Not Val, that's for sure.

It was also hilarious to watch Red Hood perk up when Danny pulled out his phone to text Jason if he was safe and okay, only to be sad that he didn't have Jason's phone number.

Even more hilarious to watch Danny fanboy over Hood and have the crime lord be flustered as all hell with Spoiler cackle-laughing in the background.

But then night had descended, and Sam's errands still had to be done, so…

No time for Danny to go on a date.

All in all, not looking good for Operation: Putting that D in Danny. (Val would like it to be known that Tucker named the group chat, if only for her own dignity).

Val is still recovering from her definitely not tearfelt goodbyes from her friends when she rolls into work three days later.

Jay, in comparison, downright chipper.

This is, of course, sarcasm. But he's leagues better than Val, and she's more concerned about how lonely she feels and how many of her classmates' names she knows rather than think about how to get Danny laid.

(It's three names. Two of them are her dorm neighbors, and the other was forced to play an ice break game with her.)

That is, of course, until Jay stops her before she leaves after her shift with a hesitant call of her name.

"Yeah, bossman?" Val watches Jay jog over to her, fidgeting a bit before handing her a slip of paper. "What's this?"

"Could you pass that along to Danny?" Jay rubs the back of his neck, "It's my uh, phone number." His other hand lifts and drops as if unsure of what to do with itself before it settles on his hip.

Val smirks, folding the note--which clearly has more than just his number written on it--carefully into her bag. She makes a note to either take a picture or give it to Danny later, pulling out her phone to send off a message in a series of taps. She already had Jay's number after all, what with being her boss and coordinating shifts.

Jay flushes, the bridge of his nose getting that familiar splotchy red hue, groaning and no doubt about to admonish her for being so cheeky.

That is, until his phone immediately buzzes, and he whips it out with wide eyes and a broad smile once he sees who it is.

Val rolls her eyes, recognizing when she's lost someone to the world of romance. "See ya later, bossman. Don't stay up too late."

And though she's only going back to her empty dorm room, Jay's smiling face and Danny's string of heart-covered emojis and thanks bolster her up enough to not feel the chill quite as harshly.

She wonders if Jazz would be willing to get in on this plan, if it means Danny taking more breaks.

She wonders if it would be weirder for her to invite Steph to spar, or if one of her classmates would be willing to study together. That's how friendships start right?

…Maybe Danny could transfer to Gotham U next year, Val's rusty at making friends now, and he's always been a good buffer for social niceties. Midwestern boy manners and all that.

Besides, Wayne Enterprises has a very lucrative engineering scholarship program after all.

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes. 

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself. 

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly? 

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition. 

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy. 

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies. 

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance. 

All in All?  It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all. 

It's the little things.

[velvet4510]

The implications of Charles and Erik seeking out Logan in The Wolverine post-credits scene together are so huge that they really should be talked about more.

This is clearly a few months to a few years after The Last Stand, and it’s the very first time Logan is learning Charles is alive, and yet Erik is already well aware of it and they are approaching him as a team just as they did 50 years earlier at the bar. Erik even gives Logan the most certain and assuring head-nod when Logan looks at him for silent confirmation that Charles is really there.

So … how long has Erik known Charles is alive? Could he have been the first person besides Moira to find out? Is Logan now the first of the X-Men to find out? You’d think Hank or Ororo would’ve called him as soon as they heard. What have Charles and Erik been doing up till now?

It really touches the Cherik shipper in me - it’s not at all outside the realm of possibility that once they reunited after Erik had temporarily lost his powers, they just completely went off the grid for a while to steal some time together and help each other before the Sentinel thing became impossible to ignore.

If you think about it, at that point in time between The Last Stand and The Wolverine - however long it was - they both were at their absolute lowest, physically and mentally/emotionally. Charles was adjusting to an entirely new body as a result of getting almost killed by his surrogate daughter who he failed to save, and it’s quite possible that his powers may have needed an adjustment period as well; he also likely heard about Jean’s death in the news and thus had to deal with the losses of two of his most beloved students who were like family to him and were probably his vision of the future of the X-Men for a long time. Erik was adjusting to suddenly living without the powers that were so essential to his identity, as well as dealing with the guilt of unintentionally unleashing the Phoenix more than once, and once again accidentally causing Charles to get badly hurt. They both were facing massive loss and massive identity crises and massive PTSD - and seeing Charles alive again would not automatically erase Erik’s memory of watching him get blown to smithereens in front of him and thinking he’d lost him forever. And while Erik’s process of regaining his powers is obvious, it’s likely that Charles too needed some time to get his bearings in terms of his own mutation, as well as everything else he was going through.

So this was really a time where they needed each other, more than ever. They both were so deeply broken and lost that they were on the same page and in the same place for the first time, honestly ever. As someone who’d experienced permanent loss after permanent loss after permanent loss over the course of his life, there’s no doubt that Erik vowed not to let his unexpected second chance with Charles go to waste. It probably didn’t take long for them to rekindle what they - in that timeline - hadn’t truly shared since 1962. I imagine it was not dissimilar to Wanda and Vision’s first scene together in Avengers: Infinity War - hiding away in an isolated place, stealing some peace and quiet, and just letting themselves spend precious time together. And there may have been even more “rage and serenity” moments as they helped each other nurse their powers back to life.

Since it was offscreen, we can only imagine how many tears of grief, joy, relief, frustration, and love were shed during that period, before they found Logan.

[sugarverse]

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.2k

mentions of: yeah its just sex,, uhhhh ya get together at the end but it’s pretty vanilla and i think this might be one of my fav writings for iida so far ehehehe this story was so fun to make. I plan on making a pt.3 and I’m going to postttt soon idk :P

part one

moodboard here!

You tied a cute bow in the belt of your robe once more, walking over to him and fixing the glasses on his oh so cherry red face. “Tenya..?” You ask, sitting on the side of the table next to him. You glance down at the sketch, seeing how far he had actually gotten. It was pretty impressive for someone who is a beginner when it comes to realism, or art itself really. “Do you want some help?”

His jaw was slack, staring up at you now that you were so much closer. Whatever perfume you had on almost made him faint, and there was nothing he could really formulate besides a very quiet, “Ex..excuse me?”

“I said, Do you want some help..?” You tease, leaning down so your faces were only a few inches from each other. You reach for his tie, slowly sliding your hand down his chest. “I wouldn't want you to fail just because your model was a distraction..” You lean closer, gripping the end of his tie as ruby eyes glancing down at your pretty plump lips.

Did you mean help help him, or draw it yourself? There was no way he was reading into this wrong, right? Did you see his hard-on the whole time?? He gave a long blink, trying to keep his head on straight. “I w..would love-” Before he could finish the sentence, you tug on the tie and press your lips against his. He melted into you, hands placing themselves onto your hips softly almost as if you’d break if he did touch you.

He had yearned for this for so long. There was no way you felt this way all this time and he never picked up on it. The thought only made him deepen the kiss, his hands moving to hold your face in his palms. You let his tie go with a smile, giggling at his eagerness to kiss you back. You place your hands on his shoulder, feeling him stand but refusing to let his lips leave yours. It felt like fireworks were going off around the two of you, only pulling away when you both needed the air.

Tenya was once again standing with crooked glasses, red faced, and this time slightly out of breath. “Y/n I.. Why didn’t.. How did I not..” He panted, after what was only a few seconds, he crashed his lips against yours before you could even respond to his stuttering. You whimpered in response, attempting to untie the tie the best you could with your eyes closed. He helped you, loosening it and letting his hands tangle themselves behind your head and into the kitchen of your hair the best he could. He just wanted you closer. Closer than he already was.

You pull away from him, feverishly leaving kissing along his sharp jawline. He sighed, hands going back to your waist patiently. He rubbed your sides up and down as you kissed down his neck, letting out a breathless whine at the missing feeling of your warm lips against his.

“Why haven't we ever k..kissed before now if this is how you ..f-felt..” He sucked in a sharp gasp once you kissed the right side of his neck. Bingo. You bit down on that spot listening to him groan in your ear, gripping your hips a little harder.

You open your legs slightly so he can stand between them, his body involuntarily pulling you towards the edge as he takes the step towards you. “Because I can't lose you.. I never thought you'd feel the same..” You mumble against his skin, leaving open mouthed kisses down to his collar before unbuttoning it.

You could feel the hard-on poke at your thigh, tauntingly moving to grind against him. After all, the silk of your robe was the only thing keeping him from well.. you. He ached, looking down at you with an almost heartbroken look in his eyes.

“Of course I do, I have wanted you for a very long time.. I know I can treat you better than anyone else out there y/n. It hurts so bad when you'd find someone else more interesting than me. I thought I was too..” He paused for a second, groaning as he grinded against you subconsciously. “A square, if you will.” He chuckled nervously at the admission, feeling you nipping at the most sensitive part of his neck as he let out soft moans and grumbles.

You pull away to look at him, fixing his glasses from earlier with a small giggle. “There's nothing wrong with liking books, or wanting to follow the rules..” Manicured hand began to unbutton his collar and down his shirt.

“And I just never thought you'd go for someone like me. I assumed you'd want a shy girl or somthin’.. I guess we really did make an ass out of u and me.” You tease, giggling once more at your own play on words. You stopped about halfway down his shirt unless this was too much. You didn't wanna be too pushy but God did you want to see those abs.

He let out a small laugh as well, staring down at your gorgeous lips. “I would have told you a lonnnng time ago, y/n. I'm sorry I didn't–” He started, feeling your finger press against his lips to stop him.

“We know now, don't we? Now we move forward.” You wrap your legs around his waist, watching him nod until you move your finger away. “How about I finally help you?” You run a hand down his chest, watching him shudder at the feeling of your acrylics.

He leaned over you, hands moving onto the table rather than on your hips. “If we're going to do anything, I want to do it the right way..” You wanted to pout at his response. He was right, being caught would be absolutely terrible for the both of you. I guess it wouldn't hurt to go back to one of your apartments and finish? Ugh but then the mood is different..

As the gears in your brain worked, Tenya still mindless pressing against you, began kissing you once more. You smile, coconut colored eyes following as he kisses your neck. This time looking for you to gasp or make some sort of noise. His lips smirked against your skin, kissing down to your shoulder and moving the robe off of it. He bit right between your neck and shoulder, causing you to squeal and grip onto his shirt.

Your eyes fluttered, feeling him kiss down to your collarbone. He guided a hand to unbutton the rest of his shirt, the other going back to resting on your waist. He made sure to kiss down the valley of your breasts, not breaking eye contact with you once had he looked up.

“May I?” He motioned to the robe, watching you quickly shrug the silk off of your other shoulder and pulling the tie of your belt. All he needed was to open it up completely. He chuckled at your quickness, letting it pull around your legs once again. He made sure to kiss both of your boobs, finishing with the unbuttoning of his shirt. He used that hand to pinch at your nip, putting the other in his mouth to suck on.

You arch your back into his touch, whimpering as you squeezed your legs around him in response. You could feel him smile, swapping to give your girls equal attention. He felt you buck at such simple actions, kissing down your navel and to where your robe pooled.

“You sound so sweet.. I need to taste you. Wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to go first baby,” You melted at the name, nodding hurriedly. He smiled, going onto his knees and scooping his arms under your knees. He pulled you to the edge, watching you jolt in surprise. You could feel your heart beating in more places than one. The entire time the only thing that had been covering you up was that flimsy piece of silk which he finally moved out of the way, staring down at you for a moment.

This obviously wasn’t the first time he’s been in a sexual situation, but he couldn’t help but freeze for a moment. You were so stunning.. ethereal even. He really didn’t mean to stare, not wanting you to think something was wrong or he was too scared. Just very much in love with the look of you. He finally breaks concentration, looking up at you with a small smile. “You promise this is okay?” He wanted to double check just in case you saw him as he saw himself.. God forbid you did.

“I promise.” You put your pinky out, watching him move his hand from your thigh to interlock his pinky with yours. Without any hesitation, he shoved his glasses up and opened your legs wider. He kissed your clit before starting to suck on it, crimson eyes staring up at you to see what he was doing well vs what you didn’t like as much. Your breathing hitched, hand going to take the glasses and set them on the table so you could grip onto his hair the correct way. You rut your hips towards him, staring down in awe.

He couldn’t help but stare back up at you, strong hands keeping your thighs pressed against his shoulders despite your involuntarily squirming. He swirled his tongue around your bundle of nerves, hands gripping onto your thighs so he could be as close as possible. You tasted so sweet. Damn near sweeter than fruit, only making him want more. Flattening his tongue against you and going back to giving your sensitive spot hell.

You pulled at his navy blue hair, hands gripping onto him as you rode yourself against his tongue. Stuttering out praises through pants and moans, “Ffffuck.. tenya-ah!~” You squeak out, thighs beginning to shake from wanting to close. He slithered a hand from your thigh, teasingly tracing his index finger around your entrance. “Don’t t..tease me!” You leaned forward, hair falling around your shoulders as you looked down at him.

“Please please pl-ngh~!” Your begging was stopped by the feeling of two thick fingers sliding into you as he swirled his tongue around your clit some more. He made sure to curl them, feeling you clench around his fingers drove him insane. Thrusting his fingers into you even faster than his tongue was moving. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, the knot in your stomach starting to tighten. You couldn’t keep quiet even if you really wanted to. You were on another planet.

The face you made when you came could only be described as angelic to iida, he watched as you came undone around his lips. You laid your back against the table as he lapped it up. Almost liked someone dying of dehydration. He slowed his fingers down, sliding them out of you to lick his fingers clean. He lightly placed your legs back onto the table. “You taste divine, you know that?” He asked, unbuckling his belt and tossing his wallet on the table.

You blink up at him, panting and giggling. “I know now,” You stared up at him, messy haired and mouth wet as lustful but loving eyes stared down at you. You took a mental picture, biting your lip to hold back your happy giggles. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sliding the belt off and placing it on the chair behind him. “Let me,” You lean forward, unbuttoning his dress pants hurriedly and unzipping them. It ached being hard for so long, but as many times as he’s imagined this to play out, he was always going to make you feel good first.

“I need you, y/n..” He admitted almost in a whisper, reaching for his glasses so he could actually see you. You tug his pants down, letting out a small laugh to yourself at the red checkered underwear he wore before pulling them down as well. You assumed he’d be big, the man is 6 foot and built like a fucking unit.

What you weren’t expecting was for it to spring right in front of your face. There’s no way that can.. Well, Doesn’t matter if it fits or not. No way you’d miss the opportunity. He let out a chuckle, assumingly at your wide eyes.

“You have me,” You smile up at him with half lidded eyes, changing your expression quickly so you werent the one looking like a deer in headlights. You grab his cock with manicured nails, licking the precum from his tip before siding as much as you could into your throat.

His breath hitched, a small groan leaving his lips. “No sweetheart, I mean I need you. As much as.. I’d l..love you to,” He let out a breathless sigh filled with pleasure, head tilting back.

“Keep.. feeling your mouth, I need you. Awfully bad, I might a..add.” He struggled to speak, moans escaping his lips as he felt you take him completely down your throat for a moment. You pulled away with a pop, smiling up at him.

“Whatever you want, sir..” You tease, sitting up and putting your hands on his shoulders, slowly sliding them to his neck to cup his face. “Give me a few more kisses, huh mister?” You didn’t even have time to lean up, feeling his lips desperately go back to yours. You tangle your hands in his messy hair once more, feeling him lay you down gently.

He pulled your legs to the edge once more, listening to the squeak you let out as he subconsciously manhandled you. He looks over to the wallet he tossed on the table earlier, opening it to fish for a condom that he always carried around. Not that he ever thought he’d really use it.

“You don’t need one,” You see him quickly look at you as if you were insane, vermillion eyes studying your face. “I’m serious! If worse comes to worse I’ll stop by the pharmacy. I want us both to actually feel it..” You sit up once more, pretty brown eyes staring up at him pleadingly. You place a hand on his arm, which was enough for him to go standing right back in front of you.

“Are you sure, y/n? Absolutely positive?” He asked carefully, cock twitching at the cold air of the room. The snow from the skylight had covered it so much the room was practically black if it weren’t for the very dim but few lights in the room. You nod, giving him a reassuring kiss on the cheek.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” You smile, laying back down. Big hands gripped your hips as he lined himself up to you, staring down at your sensitive bud for a moment before slowly sliding the tip into you. You whimper, gasping and letting your eyes roll back as he slid what you could take into you. You felt full, eyes trying to focus on the man in front of you.

“Fuck..” He muttered, leaning over you and kissing up from your collarbone to your neck, holding you close as he started to move gently into you. He knew he was big, and he didn’t plan on hurting you. he wanted it to be the best experience you’ve ever had.. despite the uncommon location. You hug him quickly, whining out and pressing your face into his shoulder. It couldn’t get closer than this.. Or so you thought, feeling him slowly start to fuck you open and press against that spot. Tears well in the corners of your eyes, gasping and biting the pain into his shoulder.

He hissed, making sure to go as slow as his mind and body would let him. He needed to see you completely undone, but your comfortability and adjusting to it would come first. “It’s okay sweetheart, ‘m right here. I got you. “ He whispered into your ear, nipping at your lobe with a small smile. You could hear how passionate he was in his voice, letting your legs wrap around him once more.

After a few more slow thrusts into you, you move from his shoulder and whisper back. “F..Fuck me like you mean it, Ten. I can take i..it.” You mewled out, feeling him kiss from your cheek to your lips before slamming into you. You squeaked, having trouble trying to kiss back. You couldn’t quiet down even if you wanted to. Your nails grab at his back, lightly scratching so you didn’t rip his skin open. Shit, fucking you like this you might not be able to stop yourself.

He shuddered at the feeling, pulling away from your lips to leave open mouthed kisses against your neck. You bite your lip hard, you didn’t know what time it was but you knew there were still people in the building. He slid his hands up to your back, letting his hands hold onto your shoulders from underneath you to keep you still while he fucked your brains out.

You were seeing stars, biting and leaving hickeys all over him to muffle yourself. He gritted his teeth, glancing down at you through foggy glasses. “You take it so good, honey.. Need..Need you like this all the time.” He huffed out, letting out another breathless chuckle at your fucked out expression. “Can I have you?”

Broken sobs of pleasure was really all you could give in return, nodding as quick as you could before kissing him once again. He smiled against your lips, letting a hand slide down to your clit. He only thumbed over it a few times before you came, legs squeezing tighter against his torso. He pulled his hand away, moving both of them back to your hips. He was obviously close too, but it felt so good he wasn’t sure he could pull out exactly in time.

“G-Gotta let me pull out, honey..” You shake your head no, burying your face into his skin once again. “Need.. need to feel.. In me– cum in me.” He began to slow down, trying to think through racing thoughts and how good you felt around him. It wasn't much time to make the decision and professionalism was already out the window at this point. “P.. Please- please tenya~?” You cry out, hugging close to him. If that’s what you wanted, he was going to oblige.

He gave a couple more thrusts, cumming into you and holding you close. Once you pulled away enough, he left peppered kisses amongst your neck and jaw.

You smile, sighing out tiredly before giving him a few kisses on his poor red lips. “You are my favorite human being on the planet,” You huff out, trying to continue but your thoughts were a bit scrambled. “I’m yours. For as long as you want me.”

He quickly responded, kissing your cheek in conformation. “Forever. I want you to be mine.. Forever.” He was sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead and still out of breath himself. His face was red, eyes hanging low from both tiredness and wonderment.

You giggle at his response, taking his glasses and cleaning them with the silk of the robe that was under you.

“Forever it is.”

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot! Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

ALSO ALSO special thank you @urfriendlywriter for some of the smut ideas and the vocabulary, it helped better than fighting a thesaurus lol

thank you @thecutestgrotto and @arlerts-angel for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top photo!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[loveandleases]

Hi Lea,

I was listening to Sweater Weather by Neighbourhood when a question jumped at me. Since it's getting genuinely cold where I'm at, I have chronically cold hands. I wondered if the ROs would warm up MCs' hands or if they struggle the same.

If they wanted to get MCs' hands to a regular temperature, how would they go about it?

I wish you a wonderful day!

Much love, Lee

Hi again Lee ~

Hope you're staying warm!

❤️Cam - He won't second guess what he's doing, each movement is almost instinctual. He lift's Mc's hand, rubbing it gently between his before blowing warm breaths along their skin. If that's not enough, he slips their hand into his pocket, still holding it. He tends to run a little hot, so he's more than willing to let MC use his body - for warmth, of course! Think of him as your personal furnace, always ready to chase away the chill, or a certain ex-fiance.

💙 G - They tend to run cold, especially their hands. You'll quickly find that G keeps a supply of hand warmers they tend to stuff in their pockets for these types of moments. They'll readily have some available for MC, not to mention warm soup and tea. Nothing like warming the body than something delicious, and piping hot. G will also offer their coat (even when upset with MC). It's just the right thing to do.

💚 Kara - Expect Kara to bundle MC up in the thickest coat she can find - think walking comforter. Just the idea of anything under 70f/21c causes her to shiver, albeit dramatically. She spares no effort when it comes to cold weather prep. For her, more is more, and that extends to her partner. She'll have MC swathed in scars, their hands buried in thick wool gloves, and maybe a hat.

MC will look like a giant marshmallow by the time she's done. But, at least they'll be warm.

💛 M - The resident cuddle bug, always ready to offer the simplest solution : themselves. They're usually wrapped up in oversized sweaters, never too cold - and they don't see why MC should be either. "H-here, warm up," they'd whisper, gently guiding MC's hands to their cheeks, which are comfortably warm.

When it's colder, M would try to coax MC into staying home for the day. "Just this once," they'd plead, following it up with puppy-dog eyes. They'd happily nestle under blankets with MC, just have their bodies intertwined for the remainder of the day.

💜 Isaac -Expect MC to get dragged along for some exercise. Jumping jacks, lunges, and a short jog are their go-to solutions. When that's not enough, they'll nod toward their car trying to maintain a serious face. But it's not hard to see the glimmer of a smirk hidden beneath. "Plan B, then. I'll let you sit in the driver's seat...just this once."

Once inside, Isaac would let MC take full reign of the temperature and heated seats. They'd just lean back with a mock sigh, "Spoiled already." They jest. When they're both comfortable, Isaac would slip in a sly comment about other ways to warm up, but they are strictly for when you're at home together.

🖤 Ardent - The grump has several ways to warm MC. Ardent is quick to offer practical advice, mentioning layers and a hot drink. He's so used to his niece catching a cold, that he's prepared with ample supply of medicine and cozy blankets - though he'd insist it's just coincidence. When that doesn't cut it, he takes matters into his own hands. He'll complain that MC is "hopeless in this weather," and pull them into his arms. Wrapping them snugly against his broad chest. Before MC can protest, he zips them both into his oversized jacket, trapping them in his warmth.

He'll make some offhanded joke about skin-to-skin contact being the best cure, but the faint blush on his cheeks betrays him. He'll mumble that it's just too cold outside - and absolutely not because holding them close is making his heart race. It's practical, that's all. Nothing more to it than that...

[inhcritance]

Lightening up the mood, or at least attempting to, was a welcome gesture, and a welcome reminder that Harry wasn't dealing with this alone, and above all, this was not about his universe's Peter and him, but about the city.

The drone leaving was not such a great detail, admittedly, but it was smart of the little bot, and Harry didn't begrudge it the choice. Not as it went to continue doing his job, and Peter went on, and Harry could see Spider-Man's cautious doubt. But in the end, he nodded, and Harry wondered if he was more confused about whichever weird feeling Spider-people got upon meeting each other, or more sullen about the situation itself. And truly, the mask hid a lot, and there was a confidence there which Harry hadn't always associated with his once-friend... but it was eerie, to see him like this.

Eerier still to wonder if he'd always been able to read him like this, and if so, how he'd been so idiotically blind that he hadn't recognized his friend in battle. Or maybe Peter wasn't hiding so much, now.

A once-friend whose ability to stay silent seemed to reach an end, as he tilted his head.

"Okay, I'm listening." He told Harry, and the other Peter. "And you can see there's a whole right mess out there, so we don't have all day."

"No, we don't." Harry sighed. And then, "Have you heard about a group that call themselves the Flame?"

"A rumor or two. A violent crime or two, you know how that is." Peter admitted, standing up a little straighter. "Why, are they friends of yours? Of Oscorp?" He added, with a shade -but just a shade- less suspicion. Probably because MJ had told him about Harry's leaks in the past, Harry supposed.

"No, no they're not." Harry replied, nevertheless, a little bit exasperated. Not rolling his eyes by ease of practice, despite how he almost wanted to. Be less Osborn and more Harry, and he couldn't.

This was why he hadn't wanted to talk, he knew it: he'd either be furious or go soft, and he was too pragmatic to be furious now.

"We just broke into one of their meeting places." He revealed. "We had a bad hunch about the place, and we assumed you'd be busy." He added, gesturing around them.

There was surprise in the angle of those lenses, and Harry strongly ignored it.

"And we did find out they're far more organized than they seemed... and planning to act soon."

Peter let out a small hum, tilted his head again.

"So you're here to what, join forces? Ask me to stop them?" He asked. "You're not here to tell me to leave them alone or else?"

Harry couldn't help himself from breaking from his practiced stillness, fingers reaching to rub the bridge of his nose in sheer exasperation, before glancing at Peter in a silent request to go on, and explain, and rescue him from making the situation worse.

Because really, his universe's Spider-Man was sometimes the dumbest genius he knew.

@localwebslingers

The drone actually rested on his hand like it was taking a break and Peter only had further confirmation that they were masters of emotional manipulation. Great ones at that, because they didn't even realize it. They could buzz at him like they wanted him to follow and he would do so all day until they powered down to rest. Assuming that they did that kind of thing in the first place, he hadn't exactly been shown the whole, robotic makeup of their design. Just sat and watched Harry do some minor cleaning and maintenance on a few of them. He looked back to catch the knowing smile but nodded after the question, "A few pretty good ones, actually, sometimes I still go to them to skate around for a little while."

Not as much as he once did, not when he could swing through all of New York and run along the buildings as a way to clear his head now. Motions that were nearly second nature and encouraged by instinct rather than thinking it through when he really got going.

Peter started to offer to show Harry one of the spots the next time he came by before seeing the flash of red and blue just as that same, buzzing sense went off in his head that he'd felt meeting the older Peter the first time. Familiar and weird, some inherent sense of recognition for, apparently, other spider-people. He looked over to see the other land, and watch the eyes on the mask widen with expression as he was looked at. Was the same buzz going off for him or was it just surprise that another person was there? Both seemed pretty possible. A light squeeze was given to the hand in his before Peter spoke up, "But your ninth guess might be kinda close."

It was tense, he couldn't help it, and if he was there to try and help Harry and be supportive, that meant bad jokes to try and cut some of the tension as best he could. The drone also seemed to think that a new person meant the break was over, which was unfortunate and disappointing but probably best for now. Letting him raise the hand slightly, especially when he could see tells of tension and hesitance that were similar to his own, "I'm just here to help go over the information and explain stuff, not here to stir anything up."

|| @inhcritance ||

[cultlix]

𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬

pair. mob heir! felix x fem reader | genre. toxic relationship, smut, angst | warnings. semi-public sex, penetrative/unprotected sex, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol and organized crime.

synopsis. You raise your head, locking eyes with your executioner. There's still something this hideous place has not taken away from him. His love for you. A love he watched grow in his ribcage like trailing ivy, suffocating his resistance, that he treasured in secret, sacred and fatal, the one that makes you sink obliviously in between bedsheets filled with torment and bliss.

author's note. this one was a wild ride! not because i easily run out of ideas or just lose interest in what i write, but because my kitten kept on running away from home and it was impossible for me to stay focused on this story. but then i spent so many sleepless nights waiting for him to return and praying he was safe that, somehow, the only decision i could make to preserve my sanity was completing it, at any cost. hope this contribution does justice to one of the most appreciated trope in ff world (mafia is such a classic, right?) and that you guys may find it entertaining. thanks in advance for the time you'll decide to invest in reading this work.

➽──────────────❥

You can't enter The Hydra without losing a part of yourself.

It's not superstition, but a tacit agreement, a compromise of sorts. Once you slink into that private club, that dreadful abyss of vices and transgressions, tiptoeing on the fringes of morality, the only way out is giving something back, a sacrifice.

At their negotiating table, every mind becomes sinister, each soul easily corruptible. The Hydra takes, deprives, drains inexorably, then comes back, demanding, expecting more, a mythological beast driven by an endless hunger of tributes and rewards.

You never know how low you can go, how lost you can get, till you get in there. The hecatomb never ends, the monstrous creature grows and never placates, lavishes and purloins in equal measure, in a vicious circle, fed by people's avidity and weaknesses.

Going back is not an option, is a chimera. But this baleful eventuality doesn't scrape your obstinacy even for a second when you decide to cross that goddamn threshold.

When you finally meet his eyes, his devastating beauty is transfigured by dismay. He's disoriented, livid.

"What are you trying to prove, uh?"

Felix grabs your wrist firmly to guide you into the darkest corner of the dancefloor, attempting to shield you from indiscreet and lecherous gazes with his slender figure. He can almost feel the other men's labored breaths as they scrutinize you, each defined line of your profile, each smooth curve of your flesh and how they harmoniously combine into that surreal vision, making them slavering, making them wonder how gratifying it would be to empty themselves in that secret, narrow paradise you preserve between your legs.

Felix abohrs it, but he detests even more he's not that different from them. A ravenous wolf, lurking, agonizing till he catches the majestic fawn.

"Nice to see you too," you start off, trying to free yourself from his iron grip.

"I said I didn't want anything to do with you ever again," he bursts out exacerbated, but his voice, an octave higher than usual, shakes, calling into question the trustworthiness of his harsh words.

"I said I didn't believe you."

There's not a mere trace of hesitancy in your tone, no signs of fear on your delicate features. Just like the first time, when he took you at his place and told you the walls of his attic were so thick that he could have done anything he wanted with you, that no one would have ever heard you screaming. "I think you should worry more about making me first," you answered, loosing the knot of his tie.

He takes you to a hidden corridor and opens the door of an unlit, pushing you inside.

"Get undressed, now," he orders, slamming the door behind his back, taking off his leather jacket and throwing it on a security camera.

"I..."

He shushes you immediately with the index on his mouth, then pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and starts typing.

They can hear us.

He jumps on a table and removes cautiously a laminate panel from the ceiling, taking out a small-sized jammer. Then unfastens his belt, making sure the buckle clinks noisily.

"Nice sweetheart, like this, lay on on the table, oppa wants to fuck you raw from behind, he needs to drill that tight, pretty hole of yours real bad. Will you let him? Will you help oppa feeling better tonight?"

You can easily tell his words sounds affected, unnatural. They come out in a deluge, potent and evocative, yet plainly strategic, shallow. A well-written script acted masterfully for a mysterious audience. But behind the accurate sham, that diabolic mouth of his can still make sound those sordid trifles persuasive, alluring, emphasizing the unrest you perceive within yourself without his touch.

He nods, suggesting you to fake a verbal consent.

"Yes," you murmur a bit puzzled, but audibly.

He eventually turns on the device. "We don't have much time left. That fucking paranoid of Kim Seungmin will probably come soon to check why mics have stopped working—"

"Mics?"

"Yeah, mics, you can use to them to convert sound waves into electrical signals you can record, you know," Felix exclaims with a sarcastic tone.

"Record? Is that even legal?"

"Is that even relevant?"

He pours you a flûte of champagne, but you decline. He drinks it avidly, collapsing on the leather couch. "They're watching us constantly, they put our allegiance to the test and keep everybody under strict control."

"Felix, are you trying to tell I've just entered the Death Star and you're enslaved to the Empire?" you chuckle incredulous.

He laughs, wholeheartedly. "No, Y/N. I'm just telling you I'm the commander of the Death Star and the heir of the entire fucking Empire."

A subtle smugness slowly takes possess of his elegant lineaments as he placidly lets you drown in a bottomless ocean of veiled truths and dark revelations. He barely hides his amusement while he waits for a reaction, for a demonstration of what you'd be willing to risk, to endure only to stand by his side.

You try to listen with aloofness to his stories, to each one of his shocking confessions adorned with vibrant shades of blood and violence, to his tales about supremacy and honor.

Is it still you, Felix? you think, heart brutally clasped in the firm grip of desolation, Are you still the one I fell in love with?

"Mr. Hwang now only needs to designate his successor, me or his biological son. Then, The Hydra, every shady affair concluded between its walls and all the shit coming with it, will be my own fucking business."

Felix drinks and strides nervously in a room too small to contain his anger, his bitterness. He stops and turns to look at you, motionless, composed, betrayed only by a single tear falling from your eye to your quivering lower lip. A pearl of rare pureness in that hideout of evil. He knows you're disgusted, but still, despite his shame and the abomination towards himself, he needs to exhort you to believe he doesn't worth this agony.

"What's wrong, angel? Ain't what you always wanted? Am I not the knight in shiny armor you've always dreamed of?" he provokes you, pouting, coming closer, catching that solitary tear with his thumb, then tasting it, mischievously.

You raise your head, locking eyes with your executioner. There's still something this hideous place has not taken away from him. His love for you. A love he watched grow in his ribcage like trailing ivy, suffocating his resistance, that he treasured in secret, sacred and fatal, the one that makes you sink obliviously in between bedsheets filled with torment and bliss.

"Fuck knights in shiny armor. They're so overstimated."

You push him against the door and kiss him.

Your tongue finds him unprepared, but submissive, rage runs through your veins faster then heroin, a poisonous aphrodisiac, a fire in liquid form turning doubts and trepidations into a heavy rainfall of ashes.

As he steals your breath with every swirl of his skillfull wet muscle, he grabs your hips, forcing you to move and making you hit the wall with your back. He breaks the kiss, taking your hand and guiding it on his still coated bulge.

"You like this, right? You want to see me crawling, begging. It must be so sublime for you watching me while I try to resist you and miserably fail each fucking time."

"How can you be so full of shit?" You protest, sighing, lost in the rapture of feeling his body responding instantly to your presence.

He loosen his grip but you continue to palm him, now feverishly, making him groan, close his eyes, press his forehead against yours as he tries to find support with both arms on the flat surface in front of him.

"I swear I'm gonna fuck you so hard, Y/N, that you'll still feel me inside you even when I won't be there anymore."

"Please."

He pulls your panties down to your ankles and frees his throbbing lenght, then lifts all your weight by grabbing your buttocks, helping you to wrap your legs around his waist. Felix penetrates you rapidly, frenziedly, doesn't even wait for your walls to enfold around his hardness that he starts thrusting into you with an untiring impetus, making you bounce on his cock heavily. His movements are swift but precise, hard, intense, targeted to make this stolen moment culminate in a violent blaze.

He moans, curses as he swims deeply in your warmth, praising the way only you can take him so relentlessly when he needs it, though he knows it hurts, confesses how he could never escape this, the two of you, even if he wanted to, and makes promises, million vows with the weight of a zephyr because it's his lust speaking, cruel and consuming, and you won't trust them till he won't reemerge from this state of fleeting elation.

You let him come inside, his pearlescent seed obliterating the last crumbs of your lucidity, inundating what's left of your broken soul. Your orgams follows with arythmic contractions, a devastating force that makes you almost stifle, calling his name in feeble pants.

Felix covers your mouth, delicately. "I know, angel," he whispers, exhausted, totally uprooted from his surroundings, caressing your lips with his thumb, kissing them one last time before going back to his abode of doom. The world, his world behind that door, hasn't stopped turning, carries on its waltz of nefarious alliances and murderous games, blessed with cupidity and ignorance.

Once outside that place, immersed into the nocturnal symphony of calmness, the hammering music in the club's nothing more then a white noise and the silence lulls your senses. Felix sends a message on his phone, then adjusts your coat over your shoulders.

"You know I can't save you."

"I've never asked you to. But we can always start from something easier, a call, maybe? You think you can do that?"

"I'll try" he says, smiling. A black car stops in front of you.

"Stay away from trouble," Felix recommends, kissing your forehead.

You gently push him away, leaving him upset.

"Step back, then."

He smirks, watching you get in the car, waiting for you to disappear behind the misty drapes of the night and into the most remote corner of his dreams.

"Now I totally get why he's so obsessed with you," the driver says, an irritating tone, cool shades and long black hair.

"Pardon?"

He starts the car before you can even reflect on the prelude of that strange conversation, then stops at the first red traffic light and turns around. He's stunning in a disturbing way, eyes piercing, mad, making him look handsome, yet rotten.

"Hwang Hyunjin," he says, waiting for a cordial handshake, but you stand still, freezed and paralyzed after hearing that name. Felix's last request still resounds in your head and you already know you won't be able to keep your word.

"Welcome to the family, uhm...angel? That's how he calls you, right?"

© cultlix, 2024. all rights reserved.

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my November 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Next to your Heartbeat (where I should be) by jaded25 (130k)

"We were meant to be but a twist of fate made it so we had to walk away"

All it takes for them to fall in love is one night. All they have to do is wait one year to see each other again.

Yet, when Louis returns after his year abroad, the boy who's got his arms wrapped around Harry isn't him. It isn't a stranger either, which should make walking away all that easier. After all, friend's don't lust after their mate's boyfriends.

Technically, doing the right thing should be easy - but when has Louis ever been known to taking the easy way out?

To Haunt a Heart by etherealbliss / @givesuethemoon (110k)

A high-profile double homicide in the quiet, small town of Ashford, WA sends shockwaves through the public. Louis, the lead detective assigned to the case, is headstrong, earnest, and desperate to prove himself. Harry, the widow of one of the victims, is insufferably rich, wears far too many vintage dressing gowns, and is desperate to prove he’s not guilty.

Their desperation unexpectedly blossoms into something beautiful behind closed doors, amidst the ticking time bomb of a slowly unravelling mystery that the two soon find themselves deeply entwined in.

Where Words Fail, Music Speaks by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow (45k)

Louis is a world class violinist. He’s one year over forty, living his best life in New York. One day, he comes to a small town in Connecticut where he inherited a house from his late father. The town looks nice and its people welcome him warmly. The problem is that Louis never knew his father and he doesn’t intend to change anything about it - his father can stuff his last will up his treacherous ass. In a strange coincidence, Louis meets town troubadour Harry, who seems wonderful to him just right until he reveals that Louis’ father was like a dad to him.

Even though Louis tries to convince himself that it shouldn’t - it hurts.

written for 1D Silver Fox Fest

Too Much, but It’s Enough by ohpleaselarry / @ohpleaselarry (40k)

There are about a thousand things Louis wishes he could go back in time and fix. A thousand things, and nearly all of them include Harry.

There are the more simple things, like showing him more support, telling him it’s okay to be himself, gently reminding him that a condom in his pocket is rather obvious in skinny jeans, but if he could just choose one thing, just one to change, he’d probably just have told the lad he loves him.

Always has. And always will.

Baby, What a Big Surprise by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou (33k)

As Harry settles into his seat, self-consciously adjusting his shirt over his slightly distended stomach, he can’t help but wonder how he got himself into all this. But he knows, of course he knows. It isn’t exactly easy to forget the moment that changed his entire life forever.

It all started with a party.

Or, the one where shy, quiet Harry has no idea he's a carrier, and a one night stand with the most popular boy in school shows him just how wrong he was.

Featuring Lottie as Harry's best friend, Niall as her boyfriend, and, of course, Louis as the popular boy with a soft spot for his little sister's quirky friend.

Into This Mess by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel (20k)

The first day of Louis’ promotion is going well, far better than he expected. That is until his new partner shows up, who just so happens to be the guy who stumbled half-dressed out of his flat that same morning.

Or the enemies to lovers detective AU.

Have Me And Hold Me by letsjustsee (8k)

His clumsy trips were now even more burdened by the sudden downpour. Twice he almost fell making his way back to the ceremony area, mostly due to his insistence on running across the lawn in between trips. The rain was relentless, coming at him from all angles with a deafening wind that muted everything outside of his own heavy breathing. He felt like he was making pretty good headway, all things considered. His pace was stalled only momentarily when, on his tenth or so trip, he thought about what someone looking out the window at that moment would see. Louis in his formal shirt and trousers, barefoot, stomping through the muddy lawn to gracelessly lug two chairs at a time towards the building.

Or, a wedding day AU in which Louis will let nothing stand in the way of a perfect day - especially a little rain.

If We Make It Through December, We'll Be Fine by penceypansy / @penceypansy (8k)

A job promotion of his dreams, an eight month long distance relationship, a cancelled train, and an emotional misunderstanding - Louis is just trying to make it home for the holidays.

No Faith Left to Lose by louieshalo / @louieshalo (7k)

Louis shoves an album booklet — Harry’s album booklet — into Harry’s hands, folded open to a familiar page. “I need you to tell me that that goddamn song is not about me.” His voice cracks a little in his vehemence, and ice fills Harry’s veins as he glances down at the creased page.

He doesn’t need to look closely to know what it is Louis is talking about — the title is printed plainly on the page, Second Chances, along with every incriminating lyric, line by line. It’s his most blatant offense off the entire album, probably; sickeningly indulgent and too obviously vulnerable to even defend himself against. The song is a surface-level dip into the fantasy world Harry toys with when the ache of loneliness gets to be too much in the middle of the night, the brief glimpse already toeing over the boundary he’d promised himself he’d set for his career.

Most damning, though, is the tiny embossed dedication at the bottom of the page;

“For who I’d be if I wasn’t afraid,” Louis recites, looking expectantly at Harry. “What the fuck does that mean?

or, the one where they miss each other more than anything.

With You I Am Never Alone by LiveLaughLoveLarry (SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFic) (6k)

Louis comes up with the idea of holding a Thanksgiving dinner for their families. Harry loves it. And him.

[djloveyou3000]

Belladonna

Chapter twelve

Gif by : @bastardcompany

When they arrived home, Russell’s simmering anger was palpable. The oppressive silence during the drive back had been unsettling, and Bell could feel the weight of his unspoken fury pressing down on them.

As soon as the car stopped in the driveway, Russell unbuckled his seatbelt with a sharp, deliberate motion. Without sparing Bell a glance, he stormed out of the car and rounded to their side, yanking the door open with enough force to make Bell flinch. His hand darted in, unbuckling their seatbelt and grabbing their wrist before they could react.

He dragged them out of the car, his grip bruising and unrelenting, before slamming the door shut behind them. Bell stumbled slightly, their heart racing in fear. Russell’s silence was terrifying, and his fury was like a storm waiting to break.

He practically shoved them toward the house, and they stumbled again, barely catching themselves. The front door opened and closed with a foreboding thud, sealing them inside.

Russell released his hold on them, only to shove them further into the room. Bell turned to face him, their chest heaving as they struggled to calm their racing heart.

“I have been so nice to you,” Russell began, his voice low and dangerously calm. It was the kind of calm that promised a storm. “I decided not to kill you in Solvetsky. I went out of my way to ask the CIA to get you a job. I’ve fed you, put a roof over your head, bought you everything you could possibly need—and more. I’ve loved you, cared for you, protected you.”

He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his gaze fixed on them like a predator cornering its prey. “And this is the thanks I get?”

Bell’s breath hitched, and they opened their mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

“You withheld information from me,” he spat, his voice rising with every word. “You didn’t tell me about the journal. You sat there in therapy and spewed some bullshit about Perseus being nice—and you think I wouldn’t find that infuriating? Then you go and lock your journal. Hide it. In my house. And to top it all off, you had the audacity to make that face in therapy when you found out we were married.”

His tone darkened, dripping with venom. “You looked disgusted. Like the very idea repulsed you.” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve given you too much freedom, Bell. That’s on me. I’ve been far too lenient with you. But that ends now.”

Something inside Bell snapped. They could no longer contain the emotions boiling within them.

“It’s not fair!” they shouted, tears streaming down their face. Their voice cracked, but they didn’t care.

Russell’s eyes narrowed, and his expression darkened further. “Did you just fucking talk back to me?” he asked, his voice low and deadly.

But Bell didn’t stop. “It’s not fair! Whenever I try to set boundaries or tell you something you don’t want to hear, you get angry! You guilt-trip me, manipulate me, twist my words—make me feel like I’m the one in the wrong!”

Russell’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides, but Bell didn’t back down.

“I wanted to tell the others about my memories because it’s my choice! The journal is my private thoughts—mine! I don’t owe you access to it! And this marriage—are you serious? When were you going to tell me? When did you even do it? And how did you do it without my consent?”

Bell’s voice broke into sobs, their chest heaving as they finally let everything out.

Russell stood there, shocked, for a brief moment. The sight of Bell standing up to him, their voice raw with emotion, caught him off guard. But his surprise quickly morphed into anger.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he hissed, stepping forward and grabbing their arms in a bruising grip. His voice was low and venomous, each word dripping with possessiveness. “You’re mine, Bell. Mine. To do with as I please. You’re my pet project, my fucking partner, and most importantly—my partner in marriage .”

His grip tightened, making Bell wince. “I own you, Bell. Your soul, your mind—everything that is yours belongs to me. And I’ve got the papers to prove it. So why the fuck would I need your permission for us to get married? You would have accepted it back then.”

Bell’s tears flowed freely, and a part of them knew his words were rooted in truth. But that didn’t make it right.

“It doesn’t matter,” they cried, their voice breaking. “It should have been an us decision—not just you! If you say I’m your partner, I should be your equal! And how dare you call me a fucking pet project!”

Russell’s breathing grew heavier, and for a moment, a flicker of guilt crossed his features. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual calculating demeanor he decided to do what he knows best manipulate.

“Fucking listen to me,” he said, his tone softening just enough to sound remorseful. “I’m sorry for calling you that. I wasn’t thinking. I was angry, baby. You pissed me off.”

He released their arms, brushing a tear from their cheek. “I married you because I needed you to legally stay here—to live, to work. The CIA wouldn’t trust you if we weren’t married. I love you, Bell. I wanted us to be married.”

Bell’s sobs quieted slightly, their mind reeling from his words.

“And like I said before, I didn’t want you to say the wrong thing and have it held against you. That’s why I told you to tell me first. I know the others are teammates, and I trust them, but what if someone was eavesdropping? Or what if they got kidnapped and someone made them tell your secrets? What if someone found you, Bell? Blackmailed you, or—God forbid—killed you? Don’t you see I’m doing this for you because I love you?”

His tone softened even more, the edge fading into an almost pleading cadence. “Do you see my perspective now? That I’m not brainwashing or manipulating you—I’m protecting you.”

Bell sobbed softly into his chest, their anger and confusion giving way to guilt and doubt.

Russell tilted their chin up and kissed them deeply, his grip firm but not painful. Bell hesitated before kissing back, their defenses crumbling completely under the weight of his words.

Satisfied, Russell picked them up, his lips never leaving theirs as he carried them to the bedroom. His mind buzzed with triumph, but his voice was tender as he whispered, “You’re mine, Bell. And I’ll never let you go.”

[irisintheafterglow]

HAND SEVEN - FULL HOUSE

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, the royal family is met and tensions rise.

wc: 4.1k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader (she/her used), explicit language, todoroki enji (derogatory), mentions of food, dinner, and eating, todoroki siblings cameo

note: i can't thank you all enough for your patience with the new parts of this series coming out. this one's a long one but it's the last chapter before shit hits the fan, so enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“Dining with the royal family, hmm? Isn’t that exciting!” Your maid catches your eye in the reflection of your bedroom mirror and you give her a wary smile. “If I may, I do think you and His Highness make a wonderful match. You compliment each other nicely.” 

“Well, this is everything I’ve wanted, right?” You can’t tell if the way your voice shakes is from nerves or the tightening strings of your corset, but you suddenly find it a struggle to have a complete intake of breath. “Goodness, I haven’t been this unsettled since he won the duel in the garden,” you laugh to disguise your panic, your poor oblivious maid humming to herself while she helps you into the next layer of your evening clothes. “Do you think the rest of the family is nice? I know he has a few brothers and a sister.” 

“Oh, I think you’ll do just fine, dear, no matter who you meet,” she reassures you, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress with her hands. “You truly look radiant; if the prince doesn’t think so, I believe he must get his eyes examined.” Your face warms, memories of you examining his eyes in an incredibly unprofessional setting a few nights prior. Whatever you said had him turning to putty in your hands outside your window, hidden by the shadow of the large tree he’d climbed to retrieve you. Nothing physically intimate occurred beyond kissing, yet the thrill of it felt like you’d committed high treason. “Come along,” she says, pulling you from your daydream. “You mustn't miss your carriage. It should be prepared soon, I’m sure–” Her unapologetic gushing is interrupted by your footman positioning himself at the door, looking slightly uneasy. 

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No, miss,” he says, shaking his head. He stutters as if fishing around in his brain to find the correct words. “There is, well…there is a–”

“It’s alright,” you gently commanded him. “Come now, spit it out.” 

“Oh my days! Miss, there’s a royal carriage outside!” Your maid exclaims, her palms pressed to the glass. “With all due respect, I was under the impression that you were taking an estate carriage to the castle.” 

“As was I,” you mutter, arriving at the windowsill to see a very smug looking Touya already peering up at you. He sends you a wink that has your maid clutching the window frame for support before disappearing into your house. You huff, catching a peek of yourself in a nearby mirror and yelping at your appearance, frantically remembering what you were doing before your suitor appeared. “Quickly, now! Let’s finish seasoning and basting so I look presentable when I face my doom at the palace.” 

Your heart rate is extremely elevated by the time you’re finished with your dress, but you can’t tell if it’s from the excitement or the mere idea of seeing him again. A loud thump thump thump runs from one ear to the other through the back of your skull, your vision becoming slightly hazy with each step closer to the parlor. Your servants bow politely as you pass and dismiss themselves when you finally approach Touya, whom you find standing at the window overlooking the garden. 

“Good evening, Your Highness,” you say softly, surveying the last beams of sunlight illuminating your flowers. “Enjoying the scenery?”

“Passing the time,” he supposes, turning to face you with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You look lovely in that shade.” 

“His Highness, Prince Keigo, did say you had an affinity for blue.” Though your attention remains on the backyard, you can hear his eye roll from miles away.

“Please refrain from discussing Prince Bird-Brain; if it is alright with you, I’d like to have an enjoyable night,” he declares with diplomatic sincerity that makes you stifle a snort into your gloves. 

“My apologies. How may I ever regain your favor?”  

“I can think of several ways.” His eyes flick around the room like a prisoner counting guards, patiently waiting until you two are truly alone. That time would come five minutes later, when the carriage doors shut you inside and he’s on you before you can even blink.

“Missed me, I see,” you breathe against his lips as his fingers roam over the expensive fabric of your dress. Touya’s mouth is hot and urgent, consuming you entirely even though you’d been apart for less than three days. Your hands brush down the front panel of his coat and eventually wrap around his neck to pull him closer. “Is something ailing you? You’re feeling a little feverish.” He scoffs at your teasing, nipping your earlobe with a sharp canine. 

“You are impossible,” he mutters with hungry eyes that rake over your exposed collarbone. His mouth starts to wander down the column of your neck with the obvious intention of leaving a mark (or seven). You’re one flirty comment away from tearing off your dress entirely when the carriage hits a bump, knocking you both upward and effectively ruining the atmosphere. You burst out laughing unexpectedly, even more when you see Touya’s displeased frown. “I’m going to execute whoever drove us over that.”

“Perhaps it’s a sign that we should recompose ourselves,” you say, tucking an unruly piece of white hair away from his face and pecking his cheek. The carriage slows its pace, and you peek out of the curtain to see the familiar happenings of the front gate. “I believe the turbulence was due to us crossing onto palace grounds, after all.” 

“We weren’t done,” he grumbles like a child being denied candy at the market. Touya’s body is still pressed flush to yours, one arm braced against the carriage door while his forearm secures you against his chest. “I should tell them to take us around the back way.”

“As enticing of an offer that would be, we would also be late for our meal.” 

“I’m offended you think I remotely care about the whole event.” The carriage comes to a complete halt and he pulls away, allowing you to smooth the wrinkles in your dress and re-tidy your jewelry. 

“I’m going to need you to care, at least a teaspoon’s amount, or I’m sure I’ll burst into flames before dinner is served.” Reluctantly, the prince schools his face into practiced nonchalance, but the way his eyes burn like embers in a fireplace give away his continued desperation. You fight the urge to smirk when he can’t seem to stop sneaking glances at you, like it pained him to look away.  “Don’t fret,” you murmur, pressing one more chaste kiss to his cheek while he glares at the approaching commotion outside. “We’ll pick up where we left off…when we are not needed elsewhere.” 

“I intend to hold you to that promise.”

—

After hurriedly fixing the bunching of your clothes and stepping out of the carriage with the help of Touya’s hand, you’re guided up the sweeping front steps of the palace and toward what you assume is the dining room. Your hand remains fixed in the prince’s arm, the crushed velvet of his blue coat soft beneath your fingers. When he ducks close to whisper in your ear, you’re sure you can hear him smirk at the goosebumps the proximity gives you.

“Nervous?” 

“I’d be untruthful if I denied it,” you answer carefully, eyeing nearby servants undoubtedly spreading news of your arrival. His breath is warm next to your ear and you’re unsure if the heat in your cheeks is from your suitor or the dozens of prying eyes. “Are we nearing the dining hall?”

“Actually, we’re just passing it. My siblings would like to meet you first,” he explains with only the slightest bit of reluctance, nearly imperceptible if you didn’t know how to read the subtle changes in his expressions. “Would you like to see it?” He knows your reply and pulls you to a towering pair of double doors just to your right, adjacent to glass windows overlooking the garden where he’d dueled for your hand all those weeks ago. As he swings open one door just enough for you to peek inside, you can’t help but gasp.

Prior to that night, you’d never seen a room sparkle before. Sure, the bathroom tiles would have a certain shine to them right after they’ve been cleaned or your stepmother’s jewelry would catch the light in a starlike way, but you’d never seen a room where absolutely everything was glittering. Gold trimmed the walls, the extensive table, the backs of chairs, and the circumference of the dinner plates. As you took barely a step into the room, your shoe sinks into plush red carpet, perfectly stainless and the only texture in the room without glimmer. Everything seemed to be encrusted in diamonds, yet smooth and almost glowing from the soft candlelight and the fading evening sun. 

“This is beyond beautiful,” you breathe and you turn, once again, to find Touya watching you rather than the room he’d dined in thousands of times. “I can’t help but feel the room is better dressed than me,” you joke and he shakes his head in firm disagreement. 

“It’s a very good thing I’m courting you and not the room, then,” he quips before taking your hand back into the crook of his arm. “You must wait until I take you into the ballroom. I believe we’ll need a doctor standing by in case you faint from its beauty.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the tug at the corner of your mouth. “Now that I think of it, are you marrying me for my looks or my furniture?”

“I’m not marrying you at all, remember?” The answer leaves your mouth before you can stop it and an odd look blinks onto Touya’s face, something you only saw when he folds in poker hands he surely would have won if he only waited for the last community cards. You’re on the verge of thinking you imagined the look when his arm tightens under your hand, like he was making sure you weren’t pulling away. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he says quickly with a rare smile that’s almost good enough to fool you. “Nothing at all.” Before you can answer, your guide swings open another set of smaller double doors at the end of a hallway which leads into what you assume is a parlor. The windows of the parlor faced the back of the castle, lush with grass and shimmering blue fountains between the bushes. Your admiration of the back lawn, however, is cut short by hushed bickering to your left. When you finally look over from where you stand in the entryway with Touya, three people snap into a perfectly-postured line. Your suitor sighs audibly through his nose, running a hand down his face with his free hand. “I would like you to meet my three younger siblings: Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shoto.” 

“Your Highnesses,” you greet politely. 

“You arrived late. Was there a delay with the carriage?” Another figure stands from a side table, shorter than the siblings but carrying more maturity than the whole room combined. 

“Our older brother is sick easily in carriages, don’t you remember, mother?” The middle brother, Natsuo, says earnestly but the jab at his older brother is not lost on you. He grunts in protest when his eldest sister, Fuyumi, strikes his side with her elbow. Touya clicks his tongue decisively and the siblings fall back in line, and you catch Shoto’s eyes scanning you like a curious cat. He’s quiet, you think to yourself, like if Touya’s calculating nature was encompassed in a teenage boy. 

“And my mother, Queen Rei,” Touya eventually continued, his voice softer than when he addressed his siblings. You muster your best curtsy as she approaches, surprised when her cold hand tilts your chin upward, seemingly to inspect you. “Mother…” he begins with a tone of warning, but she shushes him insistently. You can practically hear the muscle in Touya’s jaw clench and resist the urge to burst out laughing; no one, not even you, had the authority to shush him. No one, that is, except the one who birthed him.

“Your Majesty,” you murmur to break the tense silence as her unwavering gaze examines your face. “It is an honor. There is a gift for you, and–”

“The honor is all mine,” she breaks in before you can continue. Her voice is softer than powdered snow, in stark contrast to Touya’s dark rasp. “My son refuses to tell us anything about you, so finally making your acquaintance is a gift in itself.” 

“His Highness informed me of your shared affinity for blue, so I hope you will enjoy the few delphinium stems I’ve brought from my family’s garden.”

“I was just about to thank you for the flowers,” she smiles, lightly cupping the side of your face. Her palm is freezing, nothing like Touya’s naturally warm-running body, yet you can see where he receives his gentler side. “You are a fine counterpart for my hotheaded firstborn.” You finally break a small laugh when you hear Touya’s indignant squawk behind you, and the queen uses this chance to pull you away from him. “My second-eldest and only daughter, Fuyumi,” she introduces as she brings you to the princess. 

“Your Highness,” you curtsy and risk a glance over your shoulder to find Touya standing with his hands on his hips and impatiently tapping his foot. 

“You’ve brought a softer side out of our big brother,” Fuyumi informs you with a knowing smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Rei gestures to her next child. 

“My second son, Natsuo. He takes care of me when we are away in the countryside.” His mother pats the side of her son’s cheek and moves on before he can comment, much to his surprise and Touya’s unseen amusement. “And my youngest, Shoto. He is next in line to be king after Touya.” 

“Not His Highness?”

“Natsuo abdicated the throne when I became…” She pauses and her children stiffen. Touya clears his throat from behind you. When you turn to meet his eyes, he’s watching the polished wooden floorboards. “When I became ill. I had to stay in the countryside for a time. Only recently have I been well enough to return to the palace.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Your Majesty.” You’d have to wait until later to interrogate Touya about his family drama, but you couldn’t imagine such a fragile and gentle looking woman like the queen becoming so sick she had to leave the city. “How does your health fare now?”

“Better than the past. I’m thankful every day I get to see Touya join society as an eligible suitor.”

“As piss-poor as he is at it,” Natsuo mumbles and both Shoto and Fuyumi strike his ribs with their elbows. It’s no use, as Touya decides from behind you that he’s finally had enough and crosses the parlor in four long strides, his boots thudding heavily against the floor. Natsuo yelps and hurries away, Shoto quietly trailing behind to witness the carnage while his two older brothers disappear yelling down a back hallway. 

“Forgive them, please,” the queen implores you with a tired smile. “It’s been a long time since we hosted such a large dinner, especially as a family, and they don’t know how to act.”

“There is nothing to forgive. I am accustomed to Touya–I mean His Highness’ antics.” You hope your correction isn’t as bumbling as it sounds in your head, but your worries are eased by the appreciative expressions from the queen and princess. 

“As my oldest brother is predisposed, shall mother and I show you the rest of the palace?” In a distant room, there is a crash and the telltale sign of a teenage prince screaming in fear. The women with you are unfazed and merely shake their heads.

“I would love nothing more.”

—

“How nice of you to finally join us,” you murmur when Touya finally slides into the seat beside you at the dining table. “Finished tormenting your little brother?”

“I would not label it torment,” he argues, picking up a nearby carafe of water and pouring your glass, then his. “I am merely reciprocating the affection that he gives me.”

“And by definition, that is torment,” you counter and he chuckles. As the king was still absent from the head of the table, food was not to be served, yet the hunger in your gut could not fight the fluttering that occurred whenever Touya was with you. 

“How was viewing the remainder of the palace?”

“Unexpectedly overwhelming,” you admit. Truthfully, you could not name half of the rooms you visited if there was a saber to your jugular. There were countless bedrooms for the royal family and servants alike, sitting areas, libraries, practice rooms for the pianoforte, and an infinite number of toilet rooms; all the rooms were dressed to the level of the dining room that you were in now, shimmering in gold and expensively dyed drapes. “Up until this point, I’ve only known the outside gardens. Even then, Her Majesty informed me that she has a private greenhouse at the back of the property for her most special flowers.”

“I can take you there after dinner, if you’d like. Mother will insist upon chaperoning us, however, if that’s alright with you.” 

“We’ve had good fortune with not needing a chaperone when we are together,” you comment and he nods in agreement. 

“I’m the eldest as well as the problem child; it’s no wonder no one wants to babysit me.” You open your mouth to make a retort but are interrupted by the staccato notes of a horn announcing the king’s impending arrival. 

Rise for His Majesty, King Todoroki Enji, and Her Majesty, Queen Todoroki Rei.

Whether you grab Touya’s hand or he grabs yours first, you can’t remember, but your fingers are tightly laced in his by the time all the guests in the room stand to receive the king. Though you can’t tell how hard you’re squeezing him, you feel him gripping you like a ship’s rope in a storm. And how could he not? Everyone in the room felt a suffocating sense of unease from the moment the king stepped through the doors and until the Queen was at his side. King Enji seemed even more intimidating than the last time you’d seen him, when you looked him in the face and told him that Her Majesty was a queen, not simply a wife of a king. He was built like the barrels Rei and Fuyumi had shown you in the cellar that held gallons upon gallons of alcohol, and his whole atmosphere burned constantly in a way comparable to Touya’s most intense moods. You felt as if you could spontaneously combust if you made contact with the king too long.

You glance at Touya from the corner of your eye, suddenly self-conscious that he’s sitting with you and not at his father’s side, where he should be. Despite his death grip on your hand, the rest of his demeanor is otherwise cooler than you’d ever seen him, especially for a royal event. It was like having you by his side was making him more…confident? 

“You’re doing wonderfully,” the prince murmurs in your ear once the king is seated and the meal commenced. “Just stay by my side and we’ll be escaping before you know it.” 

“He scares me,” you blurt before shoving a forkful of food into your mouth to keep yourself from saying anything else stupid. Touya huffs a quiet laugh, leaning close in a way that has Rei winking at Fuyumi from across the table.

“That makes two of us. Although, I’m considerably less fearful when you’re with me.” 

“I’m glad to hear it. Shall we eat and ‘escape,’ as you say, faster?” 

“I’ll tell the servants we’ll take dessert in the garden.”

—

You should have learned by now that outings with Touya, whether it was of royal nature or merely two people courting, are never as smooth as you hope for them to be. The realization hits you when your suitor momentarily disappears to find his mother and invite her for tea, and the king approaches you within seconds to fill the space. Even if you were a different height, the king would still tower over you like a mountain blocking out the sun, casting you in darkness that made you want to hide in a cave. Maybe this is how rabbits feel when they’re being stalked by a mountain lion. 

“Walk with me.” It’s not a request. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you reply with as little emotion as possible. You hope Touya could see you leaving with his father, or perhaps one of his siblings is around to update him so you can get out of this trap. The king doesn’t force you to go far, only out to a secluded balcony that overlooks the back gardens. The night air is crisp and smells of many flowers, the soft sound of water rushing from the fountains blending with the melodic calls of songbirds. He stands with his hands clasped behind his back, as still as a model for a portrait painting.

“Touya is in line to be king.” He says this as a fact, an obvious statement that you are both well aware of. Your mind is racing and simultaneously not functioning at all, looking for an escape route and rooted in place. While Touya’s voice is raspy like charred firewood and his mother’s like light snowfall, the king’s voice is grating and hard, like grinding two stones together. It makes your stomach turn over in a messy somersault. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You don’t know what else to say.

“He does not want to be king.”

“Yes, Your Majes–How do you know?” His eye darts to look at you and you force your attention anywhere but him, on the grass or the flowers or the birds that were starting to sound like a hundred boiling kettles. 

“You do not know the truth of why he disappeared.” 

“I have not earned the right to ask,” you counter, a sudden indignance rising to your head as you feel the need to defend the nature of your relationship to Touya. 

“He defies me. Since he was a child, he has defied me and my efforts to train him to become a just king.” Not sure waging a not-so-secret war on the Kingdom of Might counts as being a just king, asshole. “His actions defy my wishes. His choice in acquaintances,” he pauses again and looks at you briefly as an example, “Defy my wishes. His travels defy my wishes.” Maybe his actions aren’t yours to control, then. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“He has traveled every path to rebel against me and this family. Soon, I could imagine him coming for my life to guarantee his freedom.” A hot lick of anger flares inside your chest and you silently seethe next to the king, your limbs aching from how tense your body has become. You have no right to decide what your son thinks. 

“Is that a possible situation, Your Majesty?”

“You question my judgment?” You wouldn’t be surprised if your mouth tastes like blood from how hard you’re biting your tongue.

“I meant no disrespect, Your Majesty.”

“I will make one thing clear, as he is bound to come for you soon: You are another avenue for him to defy me, and nothing more. Whatever he has told you, shown you, revealed to you is all a means to an end in order to cause me suffering.” Despite all your attempts to quiet the doubt in your mind, the king’s words make your stiffness turn brittle; you may fall over and shatter like a concrete statue if pushed over at the right angle. “Ask yourself how much Touya has really told you about himself, and if you are satisfied to be complicit in his actions to undermine me.” Complicit. To be involved in a crime or wrongdoing. To love Touya Todoroki is to be a criminal. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Touya doesn’t ask why your mouth has clamped shut in the time it took for him to find his mother and return, nor does he pry when your smiles seem more strained than before. It was inevitable, he told himself. He was sure you could feel the same dread that he did, the looming danger that you were desperately pretending wasn’t there. As you approached the final ball of the season, both your stacks were becoming higher and higher until one of you would be forced to present an ultimatum: all or nothing. 

Who will give their all, and who will lose everything?

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[fiber-optic-alligator]

(Not a request dw) (So, about the two KO fics I was talking about earlier. I think I'm just gonna do the post-time skip one. The other one where Knock Out's human gets moved outta town, and has a few close calls isn't itching my brain good enough right now. I might have to let that one cook for a bit. lol.)

Re: Bumblebee rescuing Knock Out's human after they escape his game at the trainyard.

Once every other week, Bumblebee picks up his Little Pal for their typical hang out session at the Autobot Base. As they are wont to do, they spend the trip there excitedly chatting about what they're planning on doing together once they arrive. "What to do, what to do… … -Maybe a dance party?

"Hhhmmmm… No, that'd get too loud. Ratchet hates when we play music too loud. Or dance. Peepaw Ratch needs it relatively quiet in order to do his work. Haha. He could always use a break!"

"It doesn't have to -bee -loud music. We could -just have - regular music playing while we -hang out." Bee pleads through his spirit box speech, and his Little Pal finds that his bright blue, puppy dog eyes are hard to resist.

"Yeeeeeaaaaahhhhh… True. But we'd probably do that anyways. Haha. Maybe we could play video games? There's this one I found that I think you'll like. It's a racing game with weird tracks, gliding sections, customizable cars, and some killer music!" Bee lets out a string of excitable chirps before he tunes back into his alt form's radio.

"-Crowd cheering sfx- -Sounds great! When do we start?"

"Oh, just after we get to the base, and say hi to everybody. It's been, what, like, a month since last time? It's only polite, after-!!" They freeze mid-sentence like a deer in headlights at the sight of a familiar crimson mech. Of course he was real, they knew he was real. They'd only gotten repeated confirmation from everyone else they'd met that night. And every day since then, when they'd asked.

But. To see him again. To know for a fact that this particular mechanical alien that haunts their bizarre, blurry nightmares actually exists. That Knock Out actually exists, and is here. He's. He's here, and is planning on finally getting his talons on them once and for all! And-

They shake their head hard to dislodge their panic, and shuffle a little lower in Bumblebee's servos to hide themselves from Knock Out's line of sight. Bumblebee looks down at the human shaking like a twig in his servos, and tilts his helm. What's with the shaking? Why'd they pull his digits up, and around themselves like that? Who could they possibly be afraid of here? …-Wait a minute. Of course.

Bumblebee would recognize the tell-tale click of those pedes anywhere.

"Well well well~! There's no need to stop the party on my account. Do you mind if I get a closer look at this new visitor of ours, Bumblebee?" Knock Out purrs as he draws closer, evidently more interested in the human huddling in the scout's servos than maintaining optic-contact with him.

"No can do, man! -They're -Off the menu! -There's no need -to play coy about your -obsession with them -anyways." Bumblebee growls, annoyed that the supposedly reformed Decepticon would even try to get at the poor human again. Especially right after he'd Just helped them get confident enough around Cybertronians to have a good time hanging out around the base!

This doesn't happen with any other human who happens by the base, by the way. Knock Out is loathe to even think about touching humans, typically. Something about "having taste", and a "refined palette" apparently. Whatever that means. But with BB's Little Pal? He's practically obsessed!

Now, he's fixated on them for a while, sure. But being this obvious about his desire to get his servos on them after he's joined the Autobots is new. New, and concerning.

"Oh fine. If you don't want to run the risk of your -eugh- "Little Pal" getting stolen away by the Big Bad Ex-Con, then why don't we all just sit down somewhere and have a nice, long chat, hhmmm? It'd be nice to catch up with each other after So long, wouldn't it?" Knock Out aims the latter question towards the human in Bumblebee's servos attempting to get a rise out of them, if nothing else.

The human clears their throat, and sits up a little to speak. They don't like the way he's talking to/about them, and they've decided that he's going to hear about it. "You know? I'm not feeling particularly chatty today, but maybe we can have this conversation some other day… … … Ah, what was your name again?"

Knock Out lights up at the sound of their voice, despite being a little put out by their refusal to remember his name. It's only been a few months since they'd been swept up in all of this, and they're already So comfortable talking to him like this. How… Cute.

Though, he really only has to take a step closer to shut his Little Runaway up. A quiet growl arises in his chassis, and he laughs- he Has to. The audacity of this human. If only he'd captured them back at the trainyard, they would have Long since lost the ability to sass him like this. How lucky this Squishy little Mouse must consider themselves- Ahem.

"Oh? Have you truly forgotten about me already? And here I thought our fateful encounter that night would've seared itself into your processor for good, lest you find yourself wandering alone at night the way you had been when I found you." At his human's lack of a pronounced fear reaction, he decides to press on with his little speech. He really shouldn't have to reintroduce himself, the human memory isn't that fallible, is it? He may have to remedy that, personally, if it is.

"I mean, we could have gotten to know each other better back then if only you'd stuck around to socialize. Ah, but I suppose you were a little too focused on winning to think about that now weren't you?" Knock Out's attempt to remain casual about how he lost a game he'd rigged so thoroughly in his favor, fails, and bitterness colors his tone.

Nonetheless, he takes another step closer, and reaches out a servo to lean on a nearby wall. Attempting to get a better view of the little one that got away. Bumblebee, in return, readjusts his grip on his Little Pal to block Knock Out's view even further, and quickly strides around the mad doctor before the human could reply to Knock Out's irritable rant.

Primus, how he loathes the effect Knock Out has on them. The way they're shaking right now, breathing unsteadily, and trying to bury themselves deeper into his servos than they could feasibly go. It sucks! They shouldn't have to put up with him! They've already won his game. They've already gotten away! What does he have to gain by terrifying them like this?!

-Whatever. It doesn't matter. He's going to put as much distance between Knock Out, and his Little Pal as possible. No matter what. "Nope. No way. Not gonna happen. -Optimis- won't be happy to hear about this." He keeps his pace steady to avoid shaking his Little Pal around as he goes, but that only allows the crimson mech to catch up sooner. KO's less than casual stride lets him overtake the scout, and pivot around to face him.

"And he doesn't need to. It isn't like I could do anything to them what with everyone keeping such a close optic on me, anyways." If Bumblebee could look less amused about the current situation, he would.

"You aren't helping your case here, -Knockout! -And besides, if they wanted to talk to you -to see you, -they would've approached you first. -The way they approach me. -There'd be no need for you to try, and corner them like this -at all." Bumblebee flexes what he's come to learn about his Little Pal over time, hoping to get under KO's armor. Weaponizing their well-earned faith in him to prove how easy it is to befriend humans if you don't terrorize them.

No amount of false platitudes from an ex-con is gonna charm him into putting his Little Pal into harm's way. Especially with how often Knock Out looks like a ravenous, starved even, Predacon whenever he catches sight of them. Let alone how he acts after catching a whiff of their fear, eugh. Some things never change, huh? Not even after KO became an Autob-"

Bumblebee feels the human shift in his servos, and only has time enough to look down at them before they pipe up with their trademark sass. "Hey you! Knock Out! Why do you still follow me around anyways, huh? You lost then, you keep losing now, and for what? A snack? Why don't you get a life, and go polish your paint job, or something. It's starting to get sad."

The pair of Cybertronians balk at the human's acerbic comment before Knock Out growls loudly, and makes a grab for them. How dare they speak to him like that! Especially when he could just-... Hold on. Knock Out retracts his reaching servo just in time for heavy footsteps, and rumbling laughter to echo from up the hall. It seems they aren't alone any more.

"Hah! Ohhhh you may need to stop by the Med Bay after this, Doc Knock. Pally got you pretty bad with that one!" Bulkhead pulls up next to the bickering mechs, and pats KO on the shoulder as if to comfort him about getting roasted.

"Yes! Well, to answer your question, Fleshy. I am nothing if not consistent regarding how I choose to spend my time. Now if you'll excuse me." Knock Out brushes Bulkhead's servo off of his shoulder, dusts himself off, and stalks off to the Med Bay. Likely to buff out the cracks the human made in his ego... And the ones Bulkhead made in his shoulder.

He doesn't get to far down the hallway before the human responds with one last grumpily, half-muttered insult. "Yeah... You're consistent alright. A consistent pain in my ass."

Knock Out had turned back to watch them as they spoke, and Oh how he wished he could wipe that look off of their face! They don't even look pleased with themselves about that insult either! It seems comments like those come naturally to them now. Ugh. He stomps off to the Med Bay for real this time, chased away by the sound of the Autobot duo's laughter, and begins to see to his paint job once more. Ignoring Ratchet's judgemental, but silent sidelong glance at him.

That human. His human. Has grown So comfortable around Cybertronians that they feel as though they can talk back to him whenever they damn well please. Why, he'd almost be impressed by their boldness, if it wasn't directed at him. Though he is aware that most of their bravado comes from the support they'd received from their new found allies. Maybe he should've taken that game of his seriously, after all.

-Not a Request Anon

Holy shit dude, this is awesome! It’s like a story within itself! You should totally write a full length fic about this if you’d like to!! You’ve written out the relationship between Knockout and the reader so well with the former’s “redemption” into the Autobot ranks! God, I love the way Bumblebee protects the reader and constantly defends them. It’s like he knows the trust this little human has in Cybertronians, no matter how established, is still very fragile, and there’s no way he’s going to let Knockout ruin the friendship he’s forged with his Little Pal! And AUGH, Knockout still referring to the human as his, even after all that’s happened, it’s so him!!!

[drakorn]

Rewriting Veilguard Part 3 - The Grey Wardens

Rewriting Veilguard Part 2 - The Shadow Dragons

Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.

Writing an Origin Story Mission for the Grey Wardens

So before we start, I would like to notify you of three minor changes I made to my previous blog entry regarding the Shadow Dragons:

Varric no longer tells us about Solas straight away. I believe that’s a bomb that would be more effective when dropped later, otherwise poor Rook might just be a tad overwhelmed.

Neve stays in Minrathous rather than accompanying Rook and Varric. Yeah, as much as I like the idea of your chosen faction determining your first companion, I don’t think it’s really doable given the circumstances a few other companions find themselves in at the start of the game.

The Dreadwolf title card does not appear just yet. I found a better spot to use it later.

Now that we have dealt with the Shadow Dragon origin story, let us move on to the Grey Wardens. And here, we are going to have some fun because boy do I have ideas for this one.

The Grey Wardens were kinda the faction I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to playing at first and there’s a reason for that. You see, we already played a Grey Warden in DAO, and I actually like each game’s protagonist being someone very different. However, when I think about it now, there is some narrative logic to it. If DAV truly is the last Dragon Age game (which is very up in the air right now), it makes total sense to have this choice to bookend the story. You started as a Grey Warden, and now you’ll finish as one. Plus, with the Blight giving us its last hoorah in this one, it only makes sense to put the Wardens in a more prominent position once again.

So, without further ado, let us jump into the Grey Warden origin story!

Creating Rook

We start a new game, Varric gives his opening narration about the overall state of Northern Thedas, and this time, we click on the Grey Warden origin. The little blurb reads as follows:

“You are a Grey Warden. An ancient military order sworn to battle the ever-present threat of the Darkspawn, the Wardens undergo secret, unbreakable rites that grant them supernatural powers against the Taint. As the last surviving member of the Dornen outlaws, you joined the order after a passing Senior Warden invoked the Right of Conscription at your execution and gave you the chance to fight another day. But what you will do with it, that is up to you.”

Right there, we have a great canvas to paint with when it comes to sheer roleplay. We are a former criminal, the last survivor of a group known as the Dornen. Our group wasn’t, like, evil, but we were enough of a presence in the area in and around Hossberg to cause some proper trouble. The Anderfels is a dangerous land, the most dangerous one in Thedas. People don’t live, they survive. This means that many turn to unlawful ways to make ends meet. But being a former outlaw beautifully lines up with the theme of second chances the Order gives to so many people.

In DAV, our Warden’s name is Thorne. “Dornen” is the German words for “Thorns”. The Anderfels’ linguistic and etymological side is mostly based on German (“Anderfels” meaning “Other Rock” or “Weisshaupt” meaning “White Head”). So wouldn’t it be a fun idea if “Thorne” isn’t really the Warden’s last name but just the name they ended up going with? They arguably never knew their family name and the Dornen were as close to one as they could have gotten.

Unlike Mercar, your racial choice won’t really have that much of an impact here as the Wardens accept everyone into their ranks, as long as they can fight. However, if you choose to be a Qunari, it will add a few unique dialogue lines about how few Qunari there are in the order. You are probably one of the only ones.

For this hypothetical playthrough, we shall pick a dwarf warrior, and I’m giving him a big ginger beard. Just going full Lord of the Rings here.

Alright, so we just generated our Thorne, and now we get to hear Varric’s continued narration. We get a series of those beautiful tarot-styled illustrations with Varric’s voice telling us what’s been happening with the Wardens for the last decade. The Wardens in the North specifically have been all gradually returning to Weisshaupt Fortress, by order of the First Warden. They have become much more reclusive and secretive than they already were and are sharing practically nothing with the outside world. Something’s definitely going on. And Varric thinks it might be part of something larger.

Weisshaupt Fortress

And now, for the first time ever, we get to see Weisshaupt Fortress in all its glory, a gigantic fortress carved into the very mountains, the great headquarters of the Grey Wardens that withstood for over a thousand years.

I really like the way Weisshaupt is portrayed in DAV, my only gripe is that we never get to actually properly explore it. I was…surprised by that, actually. So what better way to explore Weisshaupt than have it be part of the Grey Warden origin?

This is place filled with such incredibly rich history. Just imagine, this place has existed since the First Blight, an event older than Andraste. This is an absolute field day for lore enthusiasts such as myself.

As soon as Weisshaupt appears, we get a grand reprise of Inon Zur’s DAO main theme, establishing it as the Warden leitmotif. Now that we are able to properly play as a Grey Warden again, we are just eased back into that feeling. We might not be playing the Hero of Ferelden anymore, but we can definitely bring back the nostalgia. Music is such an important part of storytelling, it’s insane how much a well-chosen theme can do.

Meeting High Constable Janos

Thorne arrives at Weisshaupt after a recent patrol through the mountains and we are greeted by High Constable Janos, the second-in-command to the First Warden. For some reason that rank never comes up in DAV, so we’re just going to include that here.

Here we’re going to establish that Janos was the Warden-Commander who invoked the Right of Conscription during our execution all the way back in Hossberg a few years ago. But why would the Right of Conscription even work in a time without the Blight? Well, this is a fair question for any other nation than the Anderfels. But the Anderfels is constantly threatened by darkspawn incursions, making it the only nation where the Right of Conscription still holds weight without a Blight. Given how the First Warden is often seen as an advisor to the King/Queen, one can also say that the Wardens’ whole “no politics” spiel doesn’t really apply in the Anderfels, either.

Janos informs us of an upcoming mission, assigned by the First Warden himself. Thorne is to meet him, Janos, and a few others in the war room later that day. It is something quite urgent.

NOTE: Throughout the prologue, Rook is still referred to as Thorne, given that “Rook” as a nickname does not exist yet.

Exploring Weisshaupt

Before we head off to the war room, we get a chance to properly explore Weisshaupt for the first time. And there are some interesting things to be done here:

Thorne can walk in on a recruit training session hosted by Davrin. Yep, if we’re a Grey Warden, we get to meet Davrin a little earlier than every other origin. We won’t know anything about his secret griffon mission yet, so for now we just meet him as a trainer. We learn that Davrin and Thorne joined the Wardens at roughly the same time and initially disliked each other due to their different pasts. But over the years, they grew to a mutual understanding since that’s just what being part of the order does to you. In this encounter, we get to train the recruits with Davrin for a short while, even do a sparring session between the two of us.

We come across a few recruits who are yet to undergo the Joining. From here, we learn that there hasn’t really been a great influx of Wardens recently as people just don’t see the necessity. And while the Right of Conscription applies in the Anderfels outside a Blight, it does so only when the alternative is a crime verdict. The recruits know about the Joining already, so we can either reassure or prepare them for the possibility of dying.

We learn from the general chatter as we traverse Weisshaupt that many of the older Wardens are getting ready for their Calling. Since there’s such an unusually high number this time, they are organising something akin to a massive group exodus into the Deep Roads. From the same chatter, we also learn that there has been a staggeringly smaller amount of recruits every year. Some of the older Wardens are worried.

We can enter the library and meet Valya from the Last Flight novel. Instead of just leaving the Wardens for an unspecified reason like in DAV, here she stayed, survived her Joining, and has since been promoted to Chamberlain of the Grey, the order’s chief archivist after her predecessor embarked on his Calling. Her role in rediscovering the griffons had a huge part to play here, but we don’t know that yet. She has also entered a relationship with Caronel who has been promoted to Warden-Commander of the Anderfels. From Valya, who is also in charge with gathering reports from Wardens all around the world, we learn how the Wardens in the South are doing, and it’s quite something. Nathaniel Howe is now the Warden-Commander of Ferelden and operates from Vigil’s Keep. Yes, all Wardens have been ordered to return to Weisshaupt, but Ferelden is an exception to this summon as the First Warden deems Amaranthine  being an actual Arling and two Grey Wardens ruling the country as too valuable of an asset to just drop. The same can’t be said for Orlais, though, as we learn that the Orlesian Wardens, currently led by Stroud and Thom Rainier, have fortified the Warden stronghold outside Montsimmard and are currently acting as peacekeepers. In addition, Bethany is currently overseeing the still-standing Griffon Wing Keep. The First Warden looks at them with disdain for refusing to obey his orders, but he also can’t, in good conscience, declare war upon them as every Warden is valuable.

NOTE: Here we see some of our World State shine through. In this playthrough, Hawke was left behind in the Fade, allowing Stroud to be a force for good among the Wardens. Blackwall took back his original name of Thom Rainier and became a proper Grey Warden. Since Hawke took Bethany and Anders to the Deep Roads in DA2, Bethany was made a Grey Warden. Nathaniel Howe was recruited and both Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine were defended properly, allowing the Wardens to once again maintain a strong presence in Ferelden. As mentioned in the previous post, Alistair and Cousland currently rule Ferelden. And, as we're about to see, Avernus has been left alive and allowed to ethically continue his research.

While still in the library, we get to read a few letters sent to Valya. One of them is from Cousland, dating back a few years now, stating that she is close to making progress on how to stop the Calling but that this is the last letter she’ll be able to send as she’s embarking to places where communication just isn’t possible. Another is from Stroud, stating his regret for how things turned out. Here we get some hints as to what happened when he came to Weisshaupt during DAI. Apparently him and the First Warden clashed on ideals, the First Warden insisting on staying distant and secretive and Stroud being in favour of change. The third letter is from Ramesh, the Warden from Tevinter Nights who discovered one of Ghilan’nains labs and is now searching for the other eleven. The fourth and final letter is a report from Avernus and concerns the progress of his superior Joining ritual. All of these are just codex entries as I doubt we'd get to see this publicly.

Meeting the First Warden

After exploring Weisshaupt, we enter the war room, where Jowin Glastrum, the First Warden himself, awaits us. Joining us in the meeting are High Constable Janos and Warden-Commander Caronel.

Now, let me make something very clear about the First Warden. I like that he’s old-fashioned and traditionalist in DAV, I think it was very in-character of him to act distant and dismissive towards people outside the order. However, he is also a Grey Warden first and foremost at heart, he has Thedas’ best interest in mind. He isn’t here just because of status and standing, no, he clawed his way up the ranks through valiant deeds. We know that many Wardens in the Anderfels come from noble lines and still have ties to those. While the First Warden is of a noble house, he doesn’t use that as something to flaunt over the Wardens. His idea of having ties to noble families is a strictly pragmatic one: the more ties, the more aid, the more recruits. While he might not get along with outsiders, he absolutely respects the Wardens under his command and, while not always agreeable, would never meaninglessly sacrifice them. He’s harsh, strict, often an asshole, but still a Warden at heart.

The First Warden briefs us on a mission: A strange crack into the Deep Roads has opened near the village of Lavendel and a darkspawn horde is gathering for a full assault. Wardens Evka and Antoine are already on-site, preparing the defences.

The First Warden orders us to take charge of the village’s defences alongside Caronel. Under no circumstances are we to abandon post. High Constable Janos will arrive with reinforcements to secure our victory. The idea is to lure the bulk of the horde out of the Deep Roads so that we can slay most of them.

We can inquire why Thorne was chosen for this, since our presence alongside the First Warden, the High Constable, and the Warden-Commander is pretty insignificant, to which the First Warden answers that we are very much due to becoming Senior Wardens ourselves, it’s just this one last assignment left until our promotion.

After the briefing, we leave the war room and encounter Davrin again, with whom you can share in your either excitement or humbleness. In any case, Davrin congratulates us on the soon-to-be promotion, claiming how deserving of it we are and how he would have never thought so upon our first meeting all those years ago.

If we wonder why Davrin wasn’t chosen to head to Lavendel, he’ll tease that he has something else going on, equally important, but won’t tell us what it is just yet as it’s top secret (wink wink caw caw).

Reaching Lavendel

We depart Weisshaupt and leave for Lavendel, a small but significant village not far away from Hossberg. We take a few newly joined Wardens with us, a group consisting of the recruits we met earlier at Weisshaupt.

Upon entering Lavendel, we are approached by Evka and Antoine, who have been busy preparing the defences. From the ensuing conversation we gather that Thorne is very well-acquainted with them, similar to Davrin, having shared in many patrols across the Anderfels with them.

While Caronel takes charge of the mission, he trusts your judgment on matters as it is your time to prove yourself further in the eyes of Weisshaupt. High Constable Janos leaves you be now and heads off to prepare the reinforcements on the other side of the hills.

In the distance, a faint dark red cloud indicates the approaching darkspawn.

Preparing for Battle

Before the darkspawn assault begins, we have the chance to explore Lavendel a little and engage in its defences. During this short segment, we have a few encounters to experience:

Naturally, we can talk to Evka and Antoine and reflect on some of our past adventures together.

We can speak to the new Wardens we’re supposed to co-lead with Caronel, either inspiring them or telling them to be realistic and not too hasty. It’s obvious many of them joined because of the heroic notion surrounding being a member of the order.

We can encounter Mila and her father, Lavendel’s blacksmith. Yeah, I haven’t made them occupants of Weisshaupt just yet, you’ll see why in a bit.

We can inspect the defences, which boil down to barricades, a few ballistae, and, of course, the Warden stronghold just outside the village. If we explore enough, we see a very large and lose rock on a jagged edge right next to Lavendel. Maybe this will be useful later? Since we took the extra time to look around, we can now have that in the back of our head. We can also spot a crack in the stronghold’s basement and encourage quick repairments to be made.

We can speak to Caronel and share in thoughts about the coming fight. All of us Wardens can sense the approaching darkspawn. Caronel isn’t too worried as it’s just a minor skirmish, albeit with a larger-than-usual horde. And why worry? We’ve got Janos swooping in with reinforcements, anyway. We can talk about Caronel’s promotion to Warden-Commander, which was very recent. It is surprising how one so young climbed the ladder so fast, to which Caronel responds that it’s really not so uncommon anymore, given how Ferelden’s Warden-Commander got the title only a year after joining. Well, granted, she took down the Archdemon and somehow lived to tell the tale, but the point stands.

Before we commence the battle, there is one big choice to be made about our position and that of the villagers. While Evka and Antoine suggest to pull all Wardens and villagers into the stronghold and brave the storm there, Caronel would rather only keep the villagers in there while us Wardens head out into the open and prevent the darkspawn from getting to them in the first place. We don’t really have enough Wardens to divide, so we must make that choice now.

Send both the Wardens and the villagers into the stronghold and fight on close and narrow ground. The villagers are at risk from getting into the heat of battle, but the Wardens will be close by to defend them.

Send the villagers into the stronghold and let the Wardens fight in the village itself. While the villagers will be more vulnerable in terms of sheer distance away from the Wardens, the darkspawn is less likely to even get near them.

For the sake of this playthrough, we choose to evacuate the village, and ourselves, into the stronghold. We feel confident but would rather keep our charges close to us. Being a former outlaw in the Anderfels has taught us how one should never leave their goal out of sight. Our aim is to defend, not to gloriously destroy. This shows us that Thorne is willing to cast the pride of glory aside and choose an arguably safer path.

An Old Friend

Our decision made, we deliver a short speech to the villagers, instructing them to head into the Warden stronghold. We shall follow suite immediately and position ourselves on the walls and in the courtyard. Since we’re familiar with the darkspawn’s habit of digging tunnels, we’ll make sure the basement is accounted for as well.

Once the villagers and Wardens head to the keep, we are approached by a most familiar face: Varric Tethras. This is certainly a surprise. While we’ve never met him in person, we’ve certainly heard and read about him. Varric says he was passing through on an errand of his own and figured he might as well aid Lavendel’s defences with Bianca. While we can question the sincerity of this statement, we can use any help we get.

Varric comments how many Wardens would seek out the more daring and glorious path and is pleased to see that we’re not one of them.

The Battle of Lavendel

Right so we’re all hunched up in the fortress, and the atmosphere is intense. Now, all of us sense the evil just outside our doorstep. The dark red cloud is directly above us. Everyone looks to Thorne and Caronel for leadership while Evka and Antoine keep morale up. Varric, while being easy-going, is very much battle-ready now.

The darkspawn slowly creep through the village like a dark carpet of disease and corruption. We hear the deafening screeches of shrieks in the distance and see various hurlocks and genlocks make their way between the buildings. At this point, a thought comes to us, one we share with Caronel. Holy shit, that’s a lot of darkspawn. And no sign of Janos yet. Where is he? Where are the other Wardens? Surely this can’t be less than the bulk of the horde yet. This is almost like a new Blight.

A horrifying thought grips us and we quickly sense into the Taint for any signs of an Archdemon’s song. To our relief, we hear nothing. The relief is short-lived, however, as the darkspawn reach the stronghold and send in a wave of shrieks to scale the walls.

We engage in a properly gritty fight against the darkspawn and can make use of several ballistae on the battlements. But we quickly realise that this place is just not at all well-prepared. Evka and Antoine’s pre-defences, alongside our inspection, are all that’s keeping this place from being overrun. Why is this in such a shoddy condition?

We then hear fighting from the basement. Ah, so the darkspawn did attempt to dig through. Good that we halted their progress by mending that crack, giving us time to respond.

We head into the basement and confront some hurlocks and genlocks. After the skirmish, we sent several grenades into the tunnel below, causing it to collapse without damaging our infrastructure too much.

Returning to the courtyard, we see something strange. A few of the shrieks have reached a group of villagers, but instead of slaying them, they’re trying to abduct them alive. While this wouldn’t be strange if all villagers were female, given that darkspawn need broodmothers to multiply, they are taking the men, too. What…?

We make short work of the darkspawn, and at this point, some of our newly joined Wardens have fallen, but only the Wardens. Now would be a really good time for Janos to show up.

At this moment, we hear loud dum, dum, dum. Huge footsteps approach. We look at each other and have all the same reaction: Ah shit.

The gates to the courtyard break down and a huge ogre walks in. Oh boy, here we go. Now would be a really good time for Janos to show up!

We take down the ogre with great difficulty and see that another large influx of darkspawn follows. After dealing with those, the fighting ceases for a moment.

We head to the battlements and see another group on the outskirts of the village. Then we remember the huge loose rock. Oh yeah, baby.

We quickly load up a ballista and aim across the village, towards the jagged cliff. It takes three shots for the edge to become lose enough, but it works. The huge rock collapses upon the newly approaching darkspawn horde, squashing them all beneath, but taking some of Lavendel’s houses with it.

The relief is short-lived, however, as we can still sense the Taint in our heads. Further away, past the outskirts of the village, we can already see a new horde of darkspawn amassing. And still no sign of Janos.

We gather a quick emergency meeting between the Wardens, and some start speculating that…Janos might not be showing up. Evka and Antoine are of the same belief, while Caronel holds on to the hope that reinforcements are on their way. Why wouldn’t they be? Wardens stick together.

But what about us? What do we believe? Janos personally recruited us all those years ago, he personally saw to our training. Why would he…but where is he then? Why isn’t he coming? Maybe he was held up? But by what? Was there another darkspawn horde on the other side of the hills? But why can’t we sense them? In fact…why can’t we sense any other Wardens in the immediate vicinity aside from us?

Wherever Janos might be, we have to hold out on our own. But if the darkspawn keep coming, we won’t hold out at all eventually. And if the Wardens die, the villagers will be…what exactly? Killed? Or taken? No villager has died so far. Why is that? What’s going on here?

Eventually, Thorne concludes that if we are to survive, we must seal that damn entrance ourselves.

But how will we go about this? Do we take all Wardens with us, or just a few?

Take all Wardens to the Deep Roads entrance. The villagers are exposed but the darkspawn may be largely drawn to us given that they haven’t even as much as injured anyone else yet.

Take Evka and Antoine and leave Caronel and the other Wardens with the villagers.

No matter what we choose, we are going against the First Warden’s orders to not leave Lavendel under any circumstances until reinforcements arrive. And at this point, if we are to survive, we have no other choice. We tell Caronel and the other Wardens to secure the villagers’ retreat from Lavendel, while Thorne, Evka and Antoine head off to seal the entrance to the Deep Roads. Caronel is hesitant at first but comes to agree with you. In Death, sacrifice, true, but the sacrifice has to mean something. Varric offers to accompany us but since he’s no Warden, we refuse. He’s more useful with protecting the villagers without risking getting instantly blighted.

Approaching the Crack

With Evka and Antoine at our side, along with several grenades from the stronghold, we head across the dark hills. A few darkspawn break off from the main horde and try to stop us, but we make short work of them.

After a few short skirmishes, we reach the entrance to the Deep Roads, a very steep crack located between two rocky hills. It is guarded by two ogres. The rest of the horde have already departed for Lavendel. It’s now or never. We might be fewer but two ogres…we can take them. Maybe.

We throw ourselves into a fight with the two giants and slay them after exchanging some fierce blows.

Now that we have a short breathing moment, we must quickly go about sealing that entrance. However, looking at it reveals that we can only collapse it by doing so from below. No use doing it from up here. But this action would cause the Warden who does it to be trapped.

We look at Evka and Antoine and order them to give us the grenades. They initially refuse but we remind them that as Warden Thorne, we have been given charge of this mission. It’s either us or no-one. We take the grenades and bid farewell to our favourite Warden couple, ordering them to return to the others. We then recite the oath of the Grey Wardens between us. “In Peace, Vigilance,” says Antoine. “In War, Victory,” says Evka. “In Death, Sacrifice,” says Thorne.

The Deep Roads

We descent into the cavern and find ourselves immediately struck by an overwhelming sense of the Taint. There are more darkspawn here, and they are coming.

We quickly go about preparing the grenades, when we are suddenly stricken by a strange sense. It is similar to the Taint, but also different, almost…purer. Suddenly, we become incredibly aware of the cavern around us. We can sense each layer, each type, each consistency. We can sense hidden passages, the tunnels the Darkspawn are digging right now. And we feel…whole, strangely so. And this is only something we experience if we picked a dwarven Thorne, for we are experiencing Stone Sense.

At this moment, a figure approaches us from the dark, followed by darkspawn. We look up and see a tall, cloaked being, wearing dark armour that we can’t recognise. We can definitely sense the Blight in it, but it’s…weirdly different in a way we can’t describe. The figure has veins of lyrium writhing all around its form, red lyrium.

It speaks to us, but we can only hear its voice in our head. It asks us to stop, to let be done what must be done. When we ask who and what this thing is, it simply refers to itself as “The Emissary”. While the Emissary won’t tell us exactly why it wants the villagers, it hints at a great and regrettable mistake that has to be rectified before it’s all too late.

Being the Warden we are, we attempt to still go through with our grenade plan, but the Emissary casts a spell of pure, raw magic on us, causing us to be knocked against a wall. But we refuse to go down fighting and challenge the Emissary to a one on one.

Similar with Laskaris in the Shadow Dragon origin, the Emissary is a fight we aren’t meant to win. But if we lower its HP to 0, the cutscene will be a little different.

In our seemingly dying breath, we hurl the grenades against the weakest parts of the crack, which we can clearly determine due to our Stone Sense. The Emissary howls in fury as the rocks descend upon us, sealing the Deep Roads off of Lavendel for good. All turns black around us.

Saved

But strangely enough, this isn’t the end. We wake up back in Lavendel and see Varric. He says he followed us in secret as he had a feeling we might be needing assistance. When Evka and Antoine showed up without us, he increased his pace and the three made it just in time. Varric climbed down and found us in the rubble, saving us from certain death.

Evka and Antoine join us and profusely apologise for leaving our side, despite us ordering them to do so. Well, it seems the Wardens in general have a feeling for disobedience as of lately.

When we inquire about Lavendel, we are told that everyone is save and none have been taken. This is because of the time we took to explore the place before the battle. By sealing the basement and collapsing the great rock, the darkspawns’ numbers were too few for what came next.

But…what came next? We find out the moment we walk outside.

A whole entourage of Wardens hurry about Lavendel. The reinforcements arrived after all. Or so we think.

High Constable Janos and the First Warden approach us. When we remark on the lateness of the reinforcements, the First Warden orders us imprisoned. What? Why? For disobedience, of course. We see that Janos is uncomfortably silent during this exchange.

But we saved Lavendel. We repelled the darkspawn horde and sealed the entrance to the Deep Roads. What could he possibly be so mad about? It can’t just be about disobedience, right?

Well…as we slowly, horrifyingly learn from the conversation, Lavendel wasn’t meant to survive. All who were there, Wardens and villagers alike, were supposed to fall to the darkspawn.

Here we get the context: the Calling has been manifesting in more and more older Wardens. At the same time, Weisshaupt is receiving fewer and fewer recruits. This combination will eventually have the effect of the order facing extinction. And outside the Anderfels, the Right of Conscription means less than nothing now. The world has grown complacent in a world without the Blight, even though the recent one has only been twenty years ago. And the Anderfels doesn’t have a large enough population to feed the ranks on its own.

By using this abnormally large darkspawn horde, letting it consume villagers and Wardens alike, the First Warden hoped to convince the nobility to encourage greater recruitment again. It can’t be a coincidence that the Calling has been manifesting increasingly more frequent now.

But Thorne has been a thorn in this plan’s side and ensured that the First Warden’s plan backfired spectacularly.

Shocked, we turn to Janos and ask him if he was aware of this. Yes, he was. In Death, Sacrifice. In War, Victory. And the war isn’t over as long as Razikale and Lusacan still slumber beneath the surface.

Caronel has been stripped off his rank as Warden-Commander of the Anderfels and Evka and Antoine will be assigned to very far-away duties for the foreseeable future. Thorne, however, as the instigator of this chaos, is to be tried for disobedience and treason.

This is where we can lash out, accusing the First Warden of having lost his way. We can also add that Lavendel’s villagers wouldn’t have died anyway as the Emissary wanted to collect them. When we tell the Wardens of what we saw beneath the surface, the First Warden, as we would assume, does not believe us, assuming we’re using this as a convenient excuse to paint ourselves in a more heroic image. Janos, however, knows us, so he isn’t so sure.

At this point, Varric chimes in and argues against trial and imprisonment, stating it as just a waste of effort. Instead, he offers to take Thorne away for a matter of great importance. The First Warden objects, stating that Weisshaupt’s affairs are to remain its own. Janos, however, in a change of tone, takes Varric’s side. Whatever Thorne’s reasonings are, one can’t deny that we are a true Warden. NO matter the disobedience, we fought against the Blight and won. There will be other opportunities to gather more recruits, but we do not deserve a trial for doing what we joined the order for.

The First Warden eventually relents. Remember, he is still a Grey Warden, with Thedas’ best interest at heart. Him doing this whole Lavendel thing was him acting out of desperation to keep the order alive in the long run. The morality is incredibly questionable, he’s definitely an asshole, but he is not heartless. Rather than putting us in chains, the First Warden suspends us from all Weisshaupt duties and instead tasks us with travelling the lands, searching for new recruits until further notice. Dismissed.

Leaving Lavendel

When the First Warden leaves, Janos makes an attempt at conversing with us, apologising for sending us into death. We can be either understanding, or angry, or just hurt. Despite our rough exterior, we are hurt because Janos was the one who saved us from another execution in the first place. Janos definitely feels bad about it, but orders were orders. Yeah…orders were orders, we respond.

Varric approaches us and confesses that he’s not here by accident. He’s looking for someone among the Wardens to accompany him on a very special mission of the utmost importance. He heard from some of his contacts that Lavendel would have fitting candidates. And he is certain he just found the one. What exactly are we doing, now that we’re stuck with him? Varric promises to reveal everything in good time. Now, he would very much like to get out of this place. We can either go immediately or have some final conversations. Being the completionists we are, we of course choose the latter.

We can talk to Evka and Antoine and just be glad that we’re all still alive, despite being given rather shitty jobs now. Well, that’s a no on the promotion for now, right? But we’re confident we’ll see each other sooner rather than later.

Caronel honestly doesn’t even care about his demotion. He’s just glad he survived and is now able to return to Valya. But if he were still Warden-Commander, he would make us Senior Warden in a heartbeat. Sometimes, one simply has to defy orders.

We can talk to Mila, who excitedly announces that her father has taken Janos’ offer to be Weisshaupt’s new blacksmith, given that the fortress desperately needs one again.

The Wardens who were under our command during the battle look up to us in awe and call us a hero and inspiration, no matter what the First Warden says. They actually pretty much despise him now as he was so willing to just let them die.

Once all of this is done, we head to Varric and and half-enthusiastically announce our readiness to depart. Varric smiles and welcomes us to the team. What team? Oh, we’ll see. But he recommends us going by another name for the foreseeable future as the First Warden might just be petty enough to make our life more difficult by telling foreign Wardens or members of the nobility about our streak of disobedience and conspiracy theories. Well, that’s easy enough, we say, back in the Dornen, the others used to call us “Rook” for that one time we headed straight in and brought down a very well-connected Hossberg nobleman. “The strongest piece on the chessboard,” Varric chuckles. “I like it.”

Now going by Rook once again, we head off with Varric. As Lavendel is nearly out of sight, we turn around and look at the gathered Wardens one last time. This…is not how we pictured leaving the order one day. But no, we haven’t left it. We’re just…taking a vacation. With a heavy heart, we turn back to Varric and follow him into the unknown.

And that’s it for this one! Now we have our Grey Warden Rook origin story. It’s a lot, I know, but the Wardens have a lot of material to work with. And the whole plot surrounding the Emissary will make sense later, I promise.

Next time we shall be heading off into Arlathan Forest to draft a potential Veil Jumper origin story! Stay tuned!

[patriottruth]

The Next Stage of This Chess Game to Protect All Democracies and Free Peoples of the World is Joining the Democracy-Loving Freedom-Fighters on Bluesky. This is my 47th message on behalf of the only legally qualified 47th President of the United States, Kamala Harris.

Leading up to, and immediately after the U.S. election on November 5, 2024, the MAGA/QANON trolls were feeling pretty emboldened here on Tumblr. Each one of you here on Tumblr have joined together and massively reduced the MAGA/QANON trolls influence in your Tumblr social/safe space.

You've literally driven away the darkness of their lies, hate, and misinformation with the light of your love, the truth, and the law. If you'd like to meet a lot of other like-minded democracy-loving freedom-fighters like yourselves, they're gathering, organizing, and fighting to protect all democracies and free peoples of the world over on Bluesky.

You can find the Bluesky accounts for Marc Elias, Democracy Docket, CREW/Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington, Glenn Kirshner, Harry Litman, Michael Popok, Andrew Weissmann, Brad Moss, Adam Kinzinger, Democratic Leaders Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries, the MeidasTouch Network that's beating Fox News and Joe Rogan in the viewship ratings, the Lincoln Project, Brian Tyler Cohen, and many, many more by following those accounts and the people they've curated for you in their starter packs.

Here are a collection of messages with information that none of the democracy-loving freedom-fighters over on Bluesky are talking about. Please help me share this information with as many people as possible on Bluesky. Bluesky is where this information will go mainstream and spread like unstoppable and invevitable wildfire to stop donald trump from ever holding any federal or state office in the United States again; either now, or in the future. Thanks in advance if you choose to join the fight for all democracies and free peoples of the world over on Bluesky.

On 12/17/2024, state electors & governors attempting to vote for, & create certificates of ascertainment to elect, disqualified insurrectionist Donald J. Trump would be instantly disqualified from holding any office per Sec3/14A of the U.S. Constitution, thereby rendering all their actions unlawful.

Under Section 3 of the 14th Amendment, any person who has sworn an oath to support the U.S. Constitution in order to hold either a state or federal office, and then engaged in rebellion against the United States, or provided assistance to any insurrectionist, is disqualified from being an elector.

Under Section 3 of the 14th Amendment, any person who has sworn an oath to support the U.S. Constitution in order to hold either a state or federal office, and then engaged in rebellion against the United States, or provided assistance to any insurrectionist, is disqualified from being a governor.

Donald J. Trump is a disqualified insurrectionist attempting to hold federal office in violation of Section 3 of the 14th Amendment. A U.S. electoral vote, or a ruling of the U.S. Supreme Court, can't clear his insurrectionist disqualification; only a two-thirds vote of the House and Senate can.

State electors and governors in AL, AK, AZ, AR, FL, GA, ID, IN, IA, KS, KY, LA, ME, MI, MS, MO, MT, NE, NV, NC, ND, OH, OK, PA, SC, SD, TN, TX, UT, WV, WI, and WY attempting to vote for, or create certificates of ascertainment to elect, Donald J. Trump would be engaging in federal election crimes.

On March 4th, 2024, SCOTUS advised Donald Trump to have 87 Democrats in both houses of Congress remove his insurrectionist disqualification from holding any federal office again; because if he didn't, nothing could stop Democrats in the House and Senate from disqualifying him. He failed to do so.

SCOTUS can't force any state electors or governors to disqualify themselves from holding any state office by violating Section 3 of the 14th Amendment by giving aid & comfort to a criminally indicted and federally prosecuted disqualified insurrectionist presidential candidate named Donald J. Trump.

Kamala Harris' Existing Electoral College Votes: 226 + 89 Electoral College Votes From Democrat Governors in Arizona, Kansas, Kentucky, Maine, Michigan, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin = 315 Electoral College Votes (Better-Than-2020 Landslide Victory!). Those 89 votes belong to Kamala.

State electors and governors could be engaging in fraud by an elections official, conspiracy against the United States, corruptly obstructing, influencing, and impeding an official proceeding, and conspiracy against rights by giving any assistance to disqualified insurrectionist Donald J. Trump.

The SCOTUS "Berger test" states that to disqualify ANY judge in the United States of America: 1) a party files an affidavit claiming personal bias or prejudice demonstrating an "objectionable inclination or disposition of the judge" and 2) claim of bias is based on facts antedating the trial.

Due to MAGA SCOTUS' ridiculous unconstitutional Anderson opinions regarding federal enforcement of Sec3/14A against Donald Trump; and per the SCOTUS "Berger Test," Donald Trump's MAGA SCOTUS can no longer accept any cases pertaining to any issue in any civil or criminal case involving Donald Trump.

Once you've stacked those messages up as your starter posts to identify yourselves to other democracy-loving freedom fighters on Bluesky, if you want to send a message to all the MAGA/QANON cult trolls and so-called "patriots," you can help them reevaluate their so-called "patriotism" and "special/superior knowledge" by parking/pinning this message at the top. And if you really want to address the darkness of their hate, lies, and misinformation, feel free to download this image and use it as your avatar. If there are hundreds or thousands of us using this patriotic avatar over on Bluesky, the MAGA/QANON cult will see us as an organized force of love, the truth, and the law that's come to drive them and their darkness of lies, hate, and misinformation off of Bluesky and back over to "Dark MAGA X" where they belong.

September 18, 1793 – The first cornerstone of the United States Capitol is laid by George Washington.

"IC"/I See on Earth's sun September 18, 2013 https://suntoday.lmsal.com/sdomedia/SunInTime/2013/09/18/l0193.jpg

[poguehearted77]

Rafe Cameron Drabble Game

Submit any number, you can add/remove any information that you wanna see in the drabble. Idc if its smut, fluff, angst. Send them in!!

1. Buying/renting out their first house together.

2. Having their first serious argument/fight.

3. Having sex for the first time.

4. Rescuing/adopting their first pet.

5. Introducing each other to their parents.

6. Drinking from the same bottle/cup/etc.

7. Using pet names.

8. Getting undressed in front of each other.

9. Updating their social media relationship status'.

10. Changing to a joint bank account.

11. Discussing things that set themselves up to be hurt and trusting that the other won't take advantage of it.

12. Getting engaged/married.

13. Using each others' phones without supervision.

14. Making a joint purchase together.

15. Caring for the others' nieces/nephews/grandchildren/children, with or without them.

16. Laughing at something embarrassing to the other person and knowing it's not going to offend/upset them.

17. Having their first sleepover.

18. Going on their first roadtrip/vacation.

19. Opening up about something personal.

20. Saying "I love you" for the first time.

21. Discussions of kinks that they're embarrassed/self-conscious of.

22. Mirror sex

23. Sex in front of a big window where anyone could glance up and spot them

24. Fully clothed x stark naked

25. Slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds)

26. Body worshipping

27. Marathon session (they just keep going, babyyyy)

28. Finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to fuck (coat closet, empty office, secluded corner on the big balcony, hedge maze if we wanna get dramatic, etc.)

29. Oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity gets us too turned on not to fuck

30. Revenge sex

31. Finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them

32. Quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials

33. Fucking, but one is still trying to keep all of their attention on the game they are playing

34. Getting a little too handsy on the dancefloor

35. Library sex for those dark academia vibes

36. Jealous sex in the alleyway behind the bar

37. Accidental "I love you"s during sex

38. Seeing the love marks they left on their partner later and getting turned on all over again, remembering how it got there in the first place

39. Getting turned on by their partner’s new uniform for work and then roleplaying a bit

40. Sleepy domestic sex

[salubriwrites-blog]

You Chose Barbatos, Pt 2

To celebrate good news, I'm wrapping up Pt 2! You can find Part 1 here:

CW: Bondage (with vines)

Giggling like maniacs, Barbatos held your hand as he led the way through the perfectly sculpted breezeways. Every few steps you would jerk him backward for a kiss. Little sips of his energy to keep you going to your euphoric end. His lips were smooth and reminded you of sunrise, Barbatos would hold you until you caught your breath. You had a stupid smile on your face, you knew that for certain as the devil held you to his chest, keeping you from sinking to the ground in a puddle of relief and excitement.

“I can’t believe that worked, we did it,” you hissed, clutching his hands and shaking them excitedly. 

“I did nothing, it was all you,” Barbatos chuckled, rewarding you with another soft kiss that pulled you to stand up straight. “Let’s get you somewhere private, you look exhausted.”

Everywhere in Hades was a scenic place for a moment of romance, but as news of your decision began to leak from the castle grounds, the devils allowed their true natures to shine. Inquisitive and jealous eyes began to peer around corners and through the arms of Leviathan’s statues. Trying to get a glance of what Barbatos had, of what they never would. Neither of you acknowledged them, but Barbatos was not above showing you off. Sweeping you off your feet and perching you on the garden walls, he would part your legs and step into a chaste kiss. Then he’d wrap your legs around him and carry you, holding you up as you threw your head back to laugh at his absurdity. The devil was one to boast, and with you as his trophy, he took every opportunity to drink in his siblings’ envy. 

At the mouth of a familiar hedge maze he set you down, planting a softer kiss against your forehead while you sought balance. It loomed in front of you like a beast, ready to swallow the both of you whole. 

“How are you feeling? Well enough to walk?” Barbatos asked, letting you be the one to take the first step. That was what had pulled you to him to begin with, his patience. Everyone in Hades was arrogant and prideful in their own way, needing to make themselves the center of attention so that you never took your eyes off them. Not him though, Barbatos was happy to share the spotlight, and let you be the one to wrap your hand in his and tug him through the mouth of the maze. 

Every day the walls were adorned with different colors and smells as the flowers and vinework changed. Today they were reds and purples so deep it was almost black, the sunlight and the hues of each other lending an iridescent sheen. Your feet knew the way to the center, the maze had become a place of comfort for you during that week in Hades. Once you made it to the middle, Barbatos forbid you from taking another step. Sneaking up from behind, he swept you off your feet and flipped you over his shoulder. Laughing at his triumphant display, you watched as the path you just walked filled and blocked itself off with more foliage. Concealed inside, no one who had followed you two for a chance to gawk would find you now. Or so you both thought as Barbatos swung you again, this time spreading you out on the lawn of long grass that felt more comfortable than any bed you’d found in Hell. Each blade contoured to your skin, keeping your bends and shape in mind as it cradled you. 

“What will be your first pleasure?” The devil asked, whipping his cloak off and letting it fall to the ground. Over his shoulder you saw them, eyes peering just over the garden wall. Raising your hand to block the sun from your vision, you caught sight of the devils. They clung to the top of the hedge, eyes widening with panic when your sights locked on one another. 

Your first pleasure was going to be that you two get right down to business. For Barbatos to shed his clothes and rip yours away. Then use his vines to hold your legs up and bend you in half, that way his hands could be free to touch and pinch you as he thrust easily into you. Instead all of that was scrambled by the envious eyes of a peeping tom, and you uttered, “I don’t want anyone watching.”

Following your gaze, Barbatos turned slowly as he was in the process of unbuckling his belt. The devils on the wall were frozen and panic stricken when you saw them, and that was only amplified by whatever hot stare they received from your devil. “It will be yours,” he said and raised an arm, the veins defined in his wrist and forearm as he strained. All around you both, the walls rose higher, high, and impossibly higher still. On the other side there was a shout as whatever voyeurs were pushed away. Thorns and spikes grew and crosshatched over each other, forming a dome that blocked out everything. Not even the sunlight could penetrate the thick foliage Barbatos summoned, and when he turned back to face you, beaming proudly, you wondered. 

“Barbatos,” you began, sitting up and taking his fingers, giving them a half hearted shake hoping to undo his display. “You didn’t have to block out the sun too.” You knew how badly Barbatos needed light, his love language was that he shared it with you. Something so simple has become intimately integral to your relationship. Hours spent tanning together, smiling drowsily at each other as heat exhaustion claimed your minds. 

Laughing, Barbatos finished unbuckling his belt, allowing his pants to collapse at his ankles as he stepped out of them, along with his boots. Soon he was only wearing the little red undies that he would sunbathe in with you as he got on his knees, almost bursting out of the hem his cock’s head was already glistening with precum. Crawling over the bed of grass and roses that grew around you, the motion of his hips and the protrusion of his erection was almost enough to pull the briefs away. He’d leave that honor to you. In the half light his eyes almost became an eclipse as Barbatos’ face came closer. “Who needs the sunshine when you’re here?”

His kiss spread warmth down your neck and across your shoulders as with just the force of his lips Barbatos laid you down. Knowing what you needed, his fingers were quick to pull your dress up to your hips, hands rubbing your thighs as he worked himself between your legs. Moving on their own, your own hands pulled his underwear, yanking them down enough that his dick and balls hung loose. You were impatient, hungry, and couldn’t even be bothered to undress completely. Instead you reached up and hooked the chain that linked his horns in a finger and pulled him to press against you. “Now.” 

“Yes madam,” Barbatos panted, working a finger up and down your slit, opening you enough for your arousal to drench him. His jaw dropped and expression tightened when his nail teased at your clit, making your whole body jolt as if he’d electrocuted you. “Right away.” Pawing your wetness out of you, he used it to lubricate himself hurriedly, daring to tease you for a few seconds longer than you’d like. Just to watch your brow furrow with frustration when it was only his slender fingers inside you. 

“I said-” you started to complain, but the penetration interrupted you. Throwing your head back against the earth, your moan fell flat within the leafy dome. Cupping the small of your back, Barbatos let your body arch and tighten how you pleased as he thrust eagerly. As wet as he was from coating himself in your release, your hips still protested and pleaded for gentleness as you took him. This devil was particularly large, your body was scrambling to make room. Sensing your discomfort when your moans changed pitch, Barbatos was gentler as he lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder and then the other, kissing your ankles as vines coiled their way up your bodies. Abating his tempo, the flowers that adorned your thighs and hips pulled and shifted your posture, helping you find the space required. 

“Is that better? Am I still hurting you?” He asked, running his fingers over the ribbing of the vines across your belly. 

“Yes, better,” you whispered, momentarily distracted as rose buds crawled and blossomed over your body, pulling your hands above your head to tie you loosely. Testing their vitality, they would break if you needed to pull away, but why would you want that? You felt safe here, bound up like a present for Barbatos to slowly undo. “Now, more.” 

As if the word had been the crack of a whip on his back, Barbatos planted his hands on either side of your head. The weight of his hips impacting yours pushed you along the ground, staining your dress in green, red, and purple. Inside you felt his head threatening over and over to burst through your cervix, testing your innermost limits. There was a pain that rode alongside the pleasure as he drove you to madness. You didn’t want it to end, but you couldn’t get the words out between thrusts, his expression cracking and breaking away as he found his own climax before yours. Posturing himself up on his toes, Barbatos threw his arms around your shoulders and pushed all his weight with that final thrust. His cock spasmed and his belly fluttered against yours as he spent himself, and the devil relaxed while pressing kisses into your neck and shoulders. Meanwhile, you stared at the canopy overhead, mouth dry and body wanting. Surely that wasn’t all? He was going to let the vines come undone and flip you on your belly to finish making you cum. He had been your choice after all, he wouldn’t make you regret it so quickly?

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the devil began, a big teasing smile on his face as his dick receded. His face melted into pleasurable surprise when your body did not give him up so easily, not done with him. “Where are my manners?” With a grin, the vines that had held you in place tightened and pulled your legs further backward, bending your body in half and leaving your dripping hole exposed. Thorns worked their way under your clothes, peeling and ripping them to ribbons that got caught in the foliage that decorated you. “I was so caught up in making sure that you got the energy you needed, I seem to have missed something, hm.” 

Still teasing you, his knees scooted to rest against the small of your back as he held your upside down body in his lap. Moving across the ground, the vines tightened and half suspended you, relieving the weight off your shoulders as he blew cold air on your cunt. Again as though electrocuted, your body jolted and strained against the lattice that no longer broke or tore. 

With that cool breath, your arousal began to dry and crust to your thighs, but it was immediately rehydrated as Barbatos clamped his mouth over you. Howling with sensation, your body tried to find purchase around him. The vines held you firm, leaving you struggling to express your satisfaction beyond stuttered squeals and deep gasps. First he flattened his tongue against your clit, pulsing it to deliver sweet ripples that turned into a tsunami through your core. Only able to buck and shove your hips against him, you rubbed against his tongue in a way that made the pleasure overwhelming. It wasn’t enough, the devil could sense you reached a plateau. You thought you caught a glimpse of his smile as he found a new way to push you, sliding his slender fingers inside you. Quickly he found your g-spot, massaging it roughly while his lips sucked and kissed at your swelling clit. Hearing him hum with excitement at how your body engorged itself eagerly at his treatment only made you wetter in his mouth. 

“You taste delightful, I could live off your sweetness,” he whispered to your lips, kissing them while his fingers filled you up. “Relax yourself against me, let me do it all.” He urged, but every time your body tried to do as he asked it trembled violently, sending shivers through the roots and maze that confined you. Any devils outside the thorny facade would be able to see how you shook and seized for Barbatos, and that revelation made you shake even more. 

When his hands and tongue stopped being enough, you were able to utter out a single word, a shallow gasp that you didn’t think he heard. “More.” Maybe he didn’t actually hear you, or wanted you to beg, you licked your lips and tried to heave your body so that you could speak clearer. “More.” It was difficult because even though the vines were suspending you, the angle of your shoulders resting on your neck made your belly cave and lungs feel small. Only when you bucked yourself into him could you get enough air to breathe and that in kind would make his tongue stroke over your sensitive spots, so the only sounds you could get out were more moans of pleasure.

“What’s that?” He asked after you gasped for the third time, sitting up tall to lean over you, his smile peaking over the valley of your mound. His eyes were alight with glee, taking in your flushed face and sweat stained locks. “You still aren’t satisfied? How voracious,” he teased your blush, extending his tongue so that you could watch him work his way inside you. Burrowing impossibly deep, your face burnt even brighter when his tongue lap up traces of your excitement. It coated his tongue and his eyes fluttered with ecstasy as he savored it before returning for more. “Perhaps you need something to enjoy as well?” Unable to speak, you bucked your hips in response hoping that it got the point across well enough. 

Chuckling to himself, Barbatos pulled away from you and stood, walking in circles, admiring your tangled shape. “It almost feels like a sin,” he mused, strumming the vines and lattice work that kept you bound. “To be the only one to enjoy how marvelous you look… but I like it. Being the only one allowed to have you like this, it makes me want to have you all over again.” Speaking truthfully, on his second pass you could see that he was hard again, staggering more than walking as it swung like a pendulum between his legs. “May I?” He asked, stopping to bend over you, his face upside down and looking wildly hopeful. Around you the vines strained and lifted you, just enough that you could breathe fully and speak clearly. 

“Yes, please,” you choked on air, gasping again as he lowered you back down. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, stroking himself to his full length, meanwhile the vines put you spread eagle on the ground. Barbatos’ erection eclipsed your sight, and opened your mouth so wide your jaw strained. You could taste yourself on Barbatos, and eagerly you ran your tongue along his shaft, hoping to taste a fraction of what he had. Silver and sweet on your tongue, every time you swallowed you felt yourself relaxing, able to take more and more of his length. The mixture of your combined release had an alchemical property that made you numb and not mind that the head of his cock grazed the bottom of your throat. On the other end, his lips found your clit again, lapping your impending orgasm up like a hungry animal. The vines that had bound your legs together spread you wide, loosening their hold enough that you could wrap your limbs around his shoulders. Free at last, your feet flexed and crooked as you shuddered into his lips.

When you felt yourself reaching the precipice, you opened your mouth further, stretching your tongue as far as you could until gravity allowed you to fit one of his balls in your mouth. Barbatos had been fervently stroking your spot again when you did that, and the gasp he let out as he realized what you were doing made you coat his fingers. 

“Oh, what a mouth,” he cried, burying his fingers in your cunt again, alternating between thrusting into you with his fingers and his tongue. All while he gently rocked his hips against your jaw. “If you keep being a good girl, I’m going to come again- just kidding.” Barbatos added affectionately when you began to spit his balls out. “I want you to come this time… would you like that? Alright, I’ll make you come now.” With his attention focused on your order, the devil pressed his fingers inward. Finding your spot again he was merciless, his lips and teeth teasing your clit, hand filling your hole, your body trembled from the overload. You had never felt so full before, didn’t know that you could take all of his cock in your mouth, or all his fingers in your cunt. Going slack jawed, you happily let Barbatos’ hips shift and thrust against your mouth, your tongue only able to draw lazy designs on his shaft. All of your energy went into cumming for him, your moans reaching a pitch that could have blown the leaves off the branches of the maze. A slow dribble of cum stemmed from Barbatos as he listened to your orgasm, ear pressed to your naval, feeling your muscles contract and spasm. Hips aching and begging to relax, your whole body sighed with relief as he pulled his fingers from you one by one, not knowing peace until he sat up from on top of you.

“May I keep you like this? Just a little longer?” Barbatos asked, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, licking the release he collected. He could have fucked you all over again and you wouldn’t mind, your mind was abuzz and the combination of asphyxiation and orgasm left your face feeling fuzzy. When you didn’t answer though, the vines came undone and your body flopped into the grass.

“We can stay like this, I like this too… Did I please you?” The devil asked, surprisingly sounding a little anxious as he slipped to lay in the grass. Twining your legs together and stroking your mound, his eyes searched for a sign of life, satisfaction. 

“You were perfect,” you managed to exhale, finding enough power to touch his cheek and run your thumb down his lip. That was all you could do though, you hadn’t been fucked with like that since you fell for that online scam. If he asked for your next pleasure, it would be a hibernation in his arms.

Pleased with your answer, Barbatos waved a hand overhead then dropped it on your belly. Above the vines wriggled and squirmed, letting sunshine down. No faces were waiting on the other side of the hedge maze as the sky opened for you two, allowing the sun to speckle rays and shapes on your skin. Beneath you the grass and flowers rose up to cradle your bodies, both out of breath and filled with sunlight. Rolling on your side to better face him, Barbatos had thought the same and the next, easiest step was to twist your limbs together into a lover’s knot. You dozed together in the sun, exercising your favorite pastime together: stroking each other’s backs and cooling each other with your breath. 

“Thank you,” the devil whispered, grappling your fingers into his and kissing your knuckles. 

“For what?” You asked, unable to raise your head and smiling when the roses beneath you did it for you. 

“For choosing me.” The vines twisted you two closer together, helping you fall asleep in each other’s arms. “I hope it’s the most difficult decision you’ll have to make in Hell.”