#i don't know whether it's on brand or not that everyone is always trying to kill yugi above any other character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hwangyu · 1 year ago

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brand new, full throttle!

beomgyu finds out you're the perfect way to get under his stepfathers skin.

pairing(s); stepbrother!beomgyu x fem reader

warnings; STEPCEST, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap the willy!!!), creampie, reader is a virgin and kind of naive, reader calls her father daddy, beomgyu calls reader sis, beomgyu is a little manipulative, lowercase intended, ... bad writing (esp at the end bcus i can't write conflict to save my life). proofread in the sense i skimmed through it (so not really). lmk if i forgot anything! MDNI 18+

wc; 5.2k

beomgyu fucking hated his stepfather, everyone in the house knew that. you knew it, his mom knew it and your father most definitely knew it, too. beomgyu would purposefully get on his nerves whenever he could, whether it be by playing his guitar or music at times of night which he knew your father would be sleeping or intentionally bumping into him in the hallway.

over the many years, though, your father got used to beomgyu's bothersome antics—which had only pissed him off, feeling as if annoying his stepfather was the only control he really had—your father living peacefully, unbothered, was like an itch he couldn't scratch. that was until one night he had heard your father yelling at you for trying to bring a boy home.

that's when beomgyu had realized that you were the key to not just getting under his skin but the key to getting him so angry that his head would probably explode. his precious and innocent little daughter who could do no wrong, and would never do anything as dirty as even kissing someone. you were daddy's little girl and your father loved to baby you all too much.

ever since then, beomgyu's wondered how he would react if he heard you getting your brains fucked out and how he would react if he knew it was by his own stepson.

it had been about three weeks since your father had gotten angry with you for trying to bring a boy over—even after you had insisted that it really was just to hangout, that you've never even liked a boy like that, that a boy had never even liked you like that, he told you no. which wasn't the issue, but you felt humiliated he got so upset with you, and you really don't even know what you did wrong.

beomgyu consoled you that night. came into your room and rubbed soothingly at your back as you let out your tears. you've always been thankful for beomgyu, he was always accepting of you, as you were of him, even if your father seemed to disapprove of his appearance and hobbies.

despite the fact your father and stepbrother couldn't get along for the life of them, you and beomgyu's relationship was pretty good. you two hung out occasionally, mostly in his room but sometimes in yours, too. he'd invite you to watch a movie or play a game sometimes and you've met a couple of his friends. you liked him and he liked you, surprisingly enough—considering your families blended in both of your early teens.

so, when beomgyu had asked you if he could spend the night in your room for a movie-game night, you happily accepted.

you always brought out your best pillows and comfiest blankets when you two hung out in your room. usually you'd have brought a bunch of snacks in from the kitchen, but beomgyu had told you not to worry about it this time, that he had it handled.

you turned on your console and took your game controllers out of their charging docks, making sure both of the controllers were actuually charged and your dock hadn't failed it like it has in the past—you let out a sigh of relief when you saw that they were both fully charged, smiling to yourself as you started to navigate towards netflix.

it was 10:00pm when beomgyu had gently knocked on your door and your smile grew, excited to spend time with the boy. "come in!" you shouted, although your voice was still rather quiet. thankfully he heard you and the doorknob slowly turned. beomgyu smiled at you as he walked in and even while he quietly shut the door behind him.

he was wearing a black graphic tee with grey sweatpants, which contrasted the lighter colors you were wearing—white pajama shorts with a loose pink crop top. beomgyu always thought it was amusing that you two dressed totally opposite to one another. even in your room, beomgyu stuck out like a sore thumb, usually being dressed in dark, edgy clothes while your room was covered in cutesy stuffed animals and photos.

you'd always tell him that's why you two complimented each other so well, why you got along.

beomgyu hadn't said anything yet, only looking you up and down. if you were any smarter, you'd think he was checking you out. but you weren't and the only thing you noticed was that he had come in empty-handed. tilting your head, you pouted. "where are the snacks?"

"huh?" beomgyu blinked, his eyes shifting from your thighs to your face. "oh," he forced out a chuckle. "there…wasn't any. sorry. i'll get extra next time to compensate."

you hummed, somewhat disappointed. "that's okay…don't worry about it. i wasn't all that hungry, anyway." you told him, hoping that he wouldn't feel as bad. you sat yourself down on the pink beanbag in front of your tv, patting the white one right next to it.

"come on, sit down! let's find a movie to watch before it gets too late."

beomgyu dragged his feet over to the beanbag, sitting himself down with a sigh, watching as you reached out to grab your controller so you guys could look for a movie. "what kind of movie are you in the mood for?" you asked him while keeping your eyes on the screen, "like…something animated or…scary?" you started to list the options—turning your head to face him as you waited for an answer.

you flinched a little to see beomgyu was already looking at you and you briefly wonder if he had been the entire time you were scrolling through the movie selections. he seemed to notice your surprise and he chuckled.

"let's watch catching fire, i know you like that one." he told you—hoping that you would agree and wouldn't try to argue with him and get him to choose a movie that he wanted to watch instead.

luckily, it seems you didn't feel like arguing tonight. in fact, you smiled, "okay! that's a good one." you agreed with a nod, looking back towards the tv to turn the movie on. this time, beomgyu managed to tear his eyes off you.

things grew rather silent from then, besides your guys' comments about the character's choices or asking a question that wasn't entirely relevant to the plot at hand. it was only about forty minutes in when beomgyu leaned in towards you and asked you a question that wasn't regarding the movie at all.

"is your dad here tonight?"

you turned to look at him, absentmindedly reaching for the remote on the floor so you could turn the volume down a little. "y-yeah, he's got work early tomorrow so he's probably already asleep."

the boy placed his hand on your thigh as he nodded with a hum and he noticed you didn't seem to mind the touch by the way you had only offered his hand a glance. "my mom's spending the night at my aunt's, has to watch her dog for the night or somethin'."

you opened your mouth to speak, likely something in regards to the fact you would've volunteered to watch his aunt's puppy instead, but beomgyu managed to speak before you.

"is it true you were just going to hangout?" he suddenly asked and beomgyu noticed the immediate confusion in your face. "with that guy you wanted to bring over a few weeks ago."

truth be told, he felt bad when he saw you frown but seeing your face turn red from the embarrassment that you still felt from the situation was cute. "you of all people know i'm not gonna bring a boy over for anything else…" you mumbled, "i— i don't even do stuff like that." you quietly admitted.

"i know, i know, i'm sorry." beomgyu sighed, "it's just that…you know, guys are kind of sneaky. he probably just told you that he wanted to hangout at your place but who knows what he would've tried with you when he had you alone in here."

you squirmed in your beanbag, uncomfortable with the thought that your friend was possibly trying to sleep with you, even if you still didn't really believe such a thing. not to mention it's kind of embarrassing to talk about this sort of thing with your stepbrother. "i don't know if that's true…i don't think anyone has even had a crush on me before."

beomgyu knows that is certainly not the truth but he can't find it in him to tell you that. "what i'm trying to say is that your first time should be with someone you really trust. someone you know isn't gonna hurt you…someone like me."

your face heated up and you couldn't stop the immediate visual of beomgyu laying you down in your bed and being oh-so gentle with you. you tried to ignore it, because you don't think you should be thinking of him like that—besides, that can't be what he means.

"what are you trying to say?"

he squeezes your thigh like he's trying to reassure you or maybe calm you down, maybe he can tell how fast your heart is beating. "i mean, you're definitely curious, aren't you? if your first time is going to be with anyone, it should be me, since you can trust me, right?" he said—beginning to run his hand up your thigh and up your stomach to find the hem of your crop top, playing at it with his fingers.

beomgyu wasn't wrong, you're curious. you've touched yourself many of times before, but you don't even have any toys, and you've never been brave enough to use anything other than your fingers. you might be kind of naive, but you still want to know what the real thing feels like.

"we don't have to, if you don't want." beomgyu adds, though he doesn't stop playing with the hem of your shirt and you realize that his fingers are playing a little too close to your breasts, but you don't say anything. "n-no, i…i don't know. i'm just thinking."

"what is it that has you nervous, sis?"

you gulp, rubbing your knees together. "are you really sure we should do something like that? you and i?" you ask and beomgyu has to hold back a smile because he knows you're leaning towards letting him have his way with you. "why shouldn't we? like i said, we trust each other and it's not like we're doing anything bad. plenty of stepsiblings do this sort of thing, there are even stepsiblings who date each other."

"oh…well, if that's true…then it's probably okay, right?" you ask him with a hint of hope in your voice and this time, beomgyu allows himself to smile. "of course it's okay. i'll go real slow, so don't worry too much, you just tell me if you want me to stop?"

you nodded, though beomgyu could tell you were still nervous. "h-how are we supposed to start?" you ask him as he leaned in closer and he ran his fingers down your side, "people usually start with kissing, are you okay with that?"

you give yourself a minute to think, wondering if you think you'll end up getting too nervous after a kiss or two. but you do really trust beomgyu, you trust him with your life, so you think you'll be okay. "yeah, that's fine…"

beomgyu was quick to bring his other hand up to cup your face, bringing you closer to him as he pressed his chapped lips against your soft ones—he was gentle with you as to not freak you out too much. the hand on your face travels down to your neck while his other hand remains on your side. unfortunately, you pull away to take a breath.

he watches your face as you lick your lips, looking for any signs of discomfort and he doesn't see any, so he smiles. "was that good?"

a smile breaks out on your face and you let out a giggle, "it was really good. you're a good kisser…i think." you tell him—biting your lip. beomgyu laughs at your cute behavior and leans in to press another kiss to your lips.

"come here," he whispers, standing up from the beanbag and grabbing your hands to stand you up with him. you almost asked him what he was doing, but decided to trust him. the boy picked you up, earning a squeal from you.

your bed, covered in a white blanket with pink flowers—which is fitting for you, he thinks—squeaks a little as beomgyu lays you down, he digs his fingers into the hem of your shorts, but he speaks before he takes them off. "can i take these off?"

your face heats up, growing shy from the realization that he's going to see you naked, but you're too turned on to back out, and you wonder why he's asking when it feels like he was already going to. "y-yeah." you stammer and immediately after your go ahead, he takes them off, throwing them to the floor and being met with your lacy panties.

he noticed the wet patch in the middle, smiling to himself, proud to have gotten you like this. he presses two of his fingers to your clothed cunt and you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut. while beomgyu rubs your pussy in small circles and up and down, he leans down to press kisses to your neck and along your collarbone.

with his free hand, he rides it up your stomach and into your shirt. you feel him grin against your skin when he feels you have no bra on, "you're wearing this with no bra? jeez, were you wanting to flash me tonight?" he asks you with a laugh and you only whine in response.

he ghosts his thumb over your hardened nipple and you gasp. when you feel his lips leave your skin, you open your eyes to look at him and you see him smiling down at you. "i'm gonna take your panties off now, okay?" beomgyu tells you and he waits a short second in case you wanted to say no, but you nod, "just…be nice."

"of course, sis." he says before pulling your panties down, revealing your pretty pussy—he feels his cock straining against his sweatpants. struck with an idea, beomgyu grins. once he throws your panties to the floor, he grabs your wrist and presses your hand to his cock, watching the way your eyes go wide, "beomgyu!"

"see? you're so pretty, you've got me all worked up, too." he reassures you, "can't wait to feel your pretty cunt around me." beomgyu admits. "i've dreamt of this, you know."

"what?" you ask him in disbelief, "have you really…?"

"how couldn't i when you're just so cute?" beomgyu chuckles, bringing his fingers up to your mouth. "lick my fingers for me so i can stuff you with them." he says, his words are embarrassing and they fluster you, but you obey him anyway—keeping your eyes on him as you hesitantly take them into your mouth.

beomgyu's thoughts wonder as he feels your tongue swirling around his fingers. he thinks about how your tongue would feel on his cock and he starts to wonder if maybe he's not entirely doing this just to piss off your dad anymore. maybe he's partially doing this for himself.

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, "good girl." he praises you and the way you smile makes it clear that you like it. pressing his fingers to your entrance, he pushes them in slowly, watching your face carefully, he notices your brows furrowing. "it's not too much, is it?"

you shake your head, "no…it's okay, just more than what i'm used to. y-your fingers are longer than mine." you sigh, letting out quiet moans as he continues pushing his fingers deeper inside of you. "your moans are so cute." beomgyu tells you with a soft laugh and it earns an embarrassed whine from you. he means it, too.

beomgyu curls his fingers and you sigh deeply, "that's good." you whispered as he slowly pumps his fingers. "just getting you ready for me."

"w-what do you mean?" you stammer, a moan escaping your throat right after. you try to hold back your moans but his fingers feel so much better than yours and the butterflies in your stomach are going crazy, so you just can't.

"means i don't want to hurt you." beomgyu explained, he thinks that going into detail would've scared you and selfishly, he doesn't really want you backing out now. he worries a little when he notices you frown, "gyu…your fingers feel good but i— i really want you to, uhm, you know…"

his heart soars at your confession, plus the fact you're too shy to tell him that you want him to fuck you and he smiles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. "you'll get to feel my cock real soon, i promise."

you reply with a barely audible 'okay', allowing yourself to focus more on the feeling of his fingers stuffed inside of you—you're a little afraid that you may never be able to feel as good as you do right now with your own fingers.

with his free hand, beomgyu lifts your crop top, exposing your breasts. you want to cover yourself but you can't find it in you to move your hands as he eyes your tits. he takes your nipple between his thumb and index finger, squeezing it gently before letting go. "such pretty tits, too. you really are the cutest."

butterflies continue to explode in your stomach, no one has ever complimented your body—especially not like this, and you think something about hearing it from your stepbrother is making it ten times better and a part of you wonders if you should feel wrong for that.

beomgyu finally pulls his fingers out of you. slowly, but he does. you watch him as he lifts his hand up and spreads his fingers apart to see your arousal. you hear him let out a curse under his breath before he licks his fingers clean, "shit. i'd love to taste you someday." he says and beomgyu thinks about it for a minute, being in between your thighs, your hand gripping at his hair while you squirm and tell him it's too much.

"maybe next time we can taste each other." beomgyu offers. next time, you think. a next time sounds nice. "you'll…have to teach me." you know he knows that, but you told him in case for some reason he thought otherwise.

"i don't mind." beomgyu assured you with a smile. "you think you're ready for me?"

you gulped, glancing down at the obvious tent in his sweatpants. you squirm and you're incredibly nervous. "is it gonna hurt?" you ask, looking back up at him and meeting his gaze.

"we'll go slow." he said before pulling down his sweatpants, letting his cock spring free. spitting in his hand, he stroked his dick before lining it up with your entrance and he slowly starts pushing the tip of his cock in.

"wait, wait!" you suddenly exclaim and his movements stop immediately, his head snapping up to look at you. "aren't we supposed to be using something? like— like a condom?"

fuck. beomgyu thinks. "it's okay, we don't need one. it'll be fine, you trust me, don't you?"

"of course i do, gyu, but i thought—"

"then it'll be fine, sis, don't worry."

his words don't totally calm you down but you don't want to stop now, so you push your worries down. "o-okay. okay…if it'll be fine."

beomgyu lets out a breath of relief and he hopes you don't notice. continuing to slowly push his cock into your cunt, he goes in between watching the way your pussy swallows him and your face, which contorts from the stretch. "you feeling okay?"

"yes, yes…keep going, please." you reassure him and he hopes you're not just pushing through any sort of discomfort. either way, beomgyu kept going until his pelvis was flush with yours, and you dragged out a moan when you felt his cock buried inside of you.

beomgyu grabbed your hands, intertwining your fingers with his and placing both of your hands by your head. he squeezed your small hands, offering you a lazy smile. "okay?"

"okay." you said with an eager nod, "feels so…full."

as much as beomgyu knew he should wait a moment, let you adjust, he couldn't wait any longer. "i'm gonna move now." he warned you—waiting until you gave him a nod before he started pulling out slowly, letting just the head of his cock rest inside of you, before pushing himself back in.

you couldn't hold back the moans from escaping your throat and your noises had beomgyu grinning, not to mention the low groans that left his throat, too.

beomgyu squeezed your hands again, finding himself starting to go a little faster than he maybe should be. "your cunt feels so good around my cock, sis."

your bed started to creak as beomgyu's pace fastened and the head of your bedframe began to hit against the wall lightly, all while your moans grew in volume. suddenly, you remembered the fact that your dad was still right across the hall from you—that he had work tomorrow and that he definitely wasn't the world's deepest sleeper.

"o-oh, gyu! too loud, we're gonna—"

"shh, no, no. it's fine, your daddy won't hear anything." beomgyu insists. he's lying to you but you don't know that. "don't think about that, just focus on how i'm making you feel. it's just you and i right now."

you want to believe that no one can hear you two but you have your doubts, yet the way he's fucking into you is starting to feel so good, and the way the speed of his pace keeps increasing, you can't find it in you to really care.

beomgyu pulled one of his hands out from yours, earning you a frown, but it was quick to fade and your mouth fell open when he pressed the pad of his thumb to your clit—rubbing it in small circles, a whine left you as your back arched slightly off the bed. "fuck! s-so good, gyu!"

he grins hearing you swear, it's something you don't usually do, and it's definitely not something you do in front of your father. but even disregarding your father, knowing he's making you feel so good that he got such a reaction out of you, it inflates his ego. it makes him feel good.

your bed continues to creak and thump against the wall, along with the sound of skin slapping, as beomgyu fucks you—it's still not as hard as he's really wanting to but he still doesn't want to hurt you. besides, he thinks it'll be good as another excuse to fuck you again sometime, anyway.

"i'm gonna cum, gyu." you squeak out.

beomgyu can feel the excitement in his stomach, eager to feel you cum around his cock. "so soon, baby?" he teases you with a laugh and you whine in embarrassment. "i-i'm sorry…!"

leaning down, he places a kiss on your cheek. "it's okay, i know it feels really good. i'll cum with you, okay?" beomgyu says before his thrusts start to grow sloppy, rubbing faster circles around your clit and he's fucking you harder than he was just a moment ago. he's a little worried you won't be able to take it, but from your moans and whines, you seem to be taking it well.

"kiss me, kiss me, please." you manage to get out and this time, you squeeze beomgyu's hand. "i want you to kiss me."

beomgyu's quick to smash his lips against yours and you don't know it, but the same butterflies that were in your stomach are in his, too. you're thankful he doesn't pull away from your lips as you come undone around his cock and clenching around him, moaning into his mouth—moans he happily swallows.

it feels good as beomgyu fucks you through your high, and his lips are still attached to yours, but the stimulation eventually becomes too much, between him rubbing your clit and continuing to fuck into you, desperately chasing his own orgasm—squeezing in hand and humming against his lips in some attempt to get him to stop but he doesn't, and you're squirming against the bed.

he's so close, though, that he doesn't stop, regardless of your whimpering and squirming, the way your leg twitches from the overstimulation, too.

just as you think beomgyu might have you cumming again, he pulls his hand away and his thrusts come to a halt. he keeps his cock buried in your pussy as he cums. pulling away from your lips, a hoarse groan leaves his throat—his chest heaving.

"you came inside." you spoke up with a pout. beomgyu blinks, like he was out of it for a moment and trying to come back, which he likely was. "sorry, sis. you just felt so good, i think you're the best i've ever had." he tells you with a lazy smile, "it'll be fine."

you nod hesitantly. you trust him but you're still a little worried. you're also worried that you'll never be able to get off on your own again now that you've felt both beomgyu's fingers and his cock.

"what are you thinking about?" beomgyu asks you, his voice is soft and he still hasn't pulled himself out of you yet, but it's somewhat comforting.

it's embarrassing to answer his question but you don't want to ignore it either. "how good you felt." you admit quietly. "and if i'll ever be able to…feel good on my own again."

beomgyu chuckles at your worries. it's kind of…cute, he thinks. "if you ever need my help, you know where my bedroom is."

you fall silent as you process his words. does he want to do this again with you? is it wrong for you to hope he does?

he finally pulls himself out of you and you whine quietly at the loss. "you'll feel me again sometime, don't worry." he reassures you as he pulls his sweatpants back up.

you lick your lips and find the courage in yourself to ask. "do… i mean— you want to do it? again?"

beomgyu smiles at you again, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. "i still have a lot to teach you, don't i?"

beomgyu fell asleep in your bed that night, arms wrapped around you as you both dozed off. despite your activities, the two of you still fell asleep relatively early, but the sound of doors and cabinets slamming was enough to wake you both.

you hum in complaint from the noise while beomgyu yawns and starts to wipe his eyes. reaching out, he grabbed your phone off your nightstand to check the time. 6:03am.

"why's he being so loud?" you ask, muffled as your face was nuzzled into neck. you knew it was your dad making all the ruckus because who else could it be?

beomgyu was pretty sure he could answer your question, but he wasn't going to tell you that it was certainly because your father heard him fucking you last night. "i'll go make sure he's okay." he says before pulling away from you, starting to slide out of your bed.

if you weren't so tired, you'd question his intentions because you know the two don't get along at all, but all you wanted was to fall back asleep, so you hum in acknowledgement and let him. "don't be gone too long." you mumbled.

he doesn't say anything but he smiles at the thought that you still wanted to cuddle as he leaves your room, quietly shutting your door as he made his way downstairs. your father was still making a ton of noise, dishes clashing in the sink and more cabinets slamming.

beomgyu walks into the kitchen to see the one and only and he can't seem to wipe the smirk off his face even as your father turns to look at him. he wasn't just pissed, he was seething.

your father was quick to approach beomgyu, grabbing at the collar of his shirt. his brows were furrowed and his teeth were clenched, "you're lucky i don't kill you here right now, you piece of shit."

he laughs at his reaction. this is exactly what he wanted. "guess you shouldn't shelter your daughter so much next time." beomgyu tells him with a shrug before he's roughly let go. he stumbles a little but he doesn't fall.

your father scoffs and he places his hands on his hips. it's like he's so angry he doesn't know what to do with himself. "you're fucking crazy if you don't think i'll tell your mother, beomgyu. that her son's a disgusting, lowlife piece of shit."

the idea of him telling his mom does worry him a little, but beomgyu tries not to let it show. "i mean, you can try. i really don't think she'll believe you." he told your father. "we'll try to keep it down next time, though."

beomgyu thinks he might just earn a punch to the face from the way he notices your father balling up his fists. hell, he might just get beat entirely—even if he does, he'd still fuck you again in a heartbeat. whether it was to piss your father off or not.

"what's going on?" your soft voice suddenly interjects and if your father was about to beat the life out of beomgyu, you've just saved him. they both look at you, beomgyu looks careless while your father looks angry. beomgyu wonders what made you decide to come down, if you realized that it wasn't like him to make sure your father was okay, or maybe you just had a gut feeling.

you're all staring at one another and everything's silent. beomgyu has nothing to say, you're clueless as to what's happening and your father is trying to decide whether or not he wants to confront you about what he heard last night.

"daddy?" you question with a tilt to your head, you're waiting for him to say something but he doesn't. he only sighs and shakes his head, grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter and bumping into beomgyu as he walked out of the kitchen and eventually out of the house, slamming the door shut.

beomgyu wonders why he didn't say anything, but he figures that your father couldn't handle the reality that his little girl really let her stepbrother fuck him. he probably thought he raised you better.

you were pouting, though, turning your head to beomgyu. "he usually says bye to me. did i do something wrong? did he tell you?"

beomgyu shook his head, bringing his hand up to pat your head. "probably just had a rough morning." he reassures you. he certainly had a rough time sleeping last night.

"say, you're free today, aren't you?" beomgyu asks you with a smile and your pout starts to disappear as you nod. "yeah, why?"

"i'll take you for a ride in my car. my treat."

a/n; i dont rly care for how this came out but i think its a little better than the first one i wrote TT also this is probably my second time ever writing conflict so i hope it's not too bad :') </3

#txt hard thoughts #txt smut #beomgyu hard hours #choi beomgyu smut #beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu scenario #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu hard thoughts

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heartavenue · 22 days ago

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⋆౨ৎ˚ Y2K Princess: London Tipton Inspired Things To Script ⋆౨ৎ˚

this post was heavily inspired by @premiumbitch-deactivated2025040. this post is not me trying to be a copycat or anything, I just love London and wanted to make a things to script based off her!

ᯓ★ Spoiled Rotten

Obviously your rich, and I mean rich. Several vacation homes that spans across numerous continents, twelve car garage, custom designer, multi-million dollar mansion that sits upon acres of land, black card toting, trust fund having, rich. Due to your silver spoon upbringing, you have the tendency to be a tad bit spoiled. Now this isn't necessairly a bad thing as you always get what your heart desires. Whether it's that new Channel bag you've been eyeing or just a quick trip to Paris, you always get it. And the best part about it? People adore you for it, you have your parents wrapped around your finger just like that. They give you every single thing you want, and then some.

ᯓ★ Iconic Fashion Style

From a Juicy Couture tracksuit (for whenever you're feeling bummy) to that custom made Versace dress, you are the moment. As soon as you walk into a room you turn heads, people practically break their necks trying to get a glimpse of who you're wearing. You have a sixth sense when it comes to fashion. You know exactly how to style something, it just comes to you. Everything you wear gains traction, people try to copy your style but they just can't because they are not you. Designers wish they could capture your natural sense of style. You were made for the runway. You have brands constantly calling you begging you to wear their work, because you are their stamp of approval.

ᯓ★ Timeless Beauty

Your face is pure perfection, no everything about you is perfection. Your face, your body, your aura, your personality is like you were sculpted by Aphrodite herself. Your beauty rivals no one. All day long you catch people admiring your beauty. Your beauty stands the test of time it spans from generation to generation. Everyone is just so captivated by you, so captivated it is like they are under your spell. They are hypnotized, hooked, longing for your every move. Your beauty transcends this Earthly realm, it is like you are an angel that fell down from heaven. You are constantly bombarded by compliments, not a day goes by without someone just telling you how beautiful you are.

ᯓ★ It Girl Status

There is not a single soul who doesn't know your name. Everywhere you go you hear whispers of people telling others about your arrival. You enter a room and you set the tone, people quiet down anticipating your every word. People move out of their way when they see you, they dare not make eye contact with you. You are beyond respected, no one ever thinks about crossing you. People don't know if they want to be with you or with you. Your presence is well known, and for anyone who doesn't know you...oh they will. Something about you makes people want to follow you around like a lost puppy, they wait in anticipation for your next move. If you say jump, they immediately leave the ground. You have an entourage, fan clubs, and people live for you. They're always wondering what you're going to do next. There isn't one person who's not completely and utterly enamored by you.

ᯓ★ Princess Treatment

You have a commanding yet subtle aura, anywhere you go that places automatically conform to your needs, to your wants. That restaurant you've been eyeing? As soon as you enter their doors they greet you automatically offering their best table, waiting on your hand and foot like the princess you are. When you go into your favorite store the attendants are rushing to your side, offering whatever they have just to please you. No matter where you go people are devoted to you. People give up their seats for you, they clear a path when they see you, if you're thirsty everyone in the vincinity offers you their water. You are the people's princess, it is like it is everyone's life duty to serve you, to live you, to breathe you. This is YOUR world, and you just allow them to live in it.

#reality shifting #desired reality #shiftblr #shifting realities #things to script

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a66-1 · 1 year ago

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starving.

Simon x Fem!Insecure!Reader.

Part 1 | ???

TW: Talk of ed's, negative self talk, low self esteem, bad mouthing (from reader to herself, comes with the territory) cursing, self harm. i tried not to be too descriptive with the reader, so EVERY insecure girlie who reads this feels seen. (these tw are for the whole thing, im pretty sure this is gonna be a series)

a/n: hey. if you need help, dm me. ill talk to you if you need it :). (also i made my banners. if you want one dm me! i make them for free, just with credit :)) NOT PROOF READ

i hope your doing okay honey.

Stepping out of the shower, the towel around you just big enough to touch ends is slipped around yourself. Showering is getting harder. You can barely stand glancing at the mirror now.

You dry yourself off, and hand the towel back up. You can do it, just walk past the mirror to grab your clothes.

You take the steps past the mirror, and turn your back to the mirror to change. Slipping your bra on, and it squishes the skin on your back and you grimace.

Once your dressed, you turn back around. The nagging voices are just waiting to pounce. I mean, what? You used to be so skinny.

You used to be pretty.

You decided to let your hair air dry, and you walk into your bedroom. You had work today, but you really wish you didn't. It was a bad week, you'd skipped 3 meals in the last few days and you know what your therapist would say.

'The progress you've made, hun. You can't go back now.'

The bad days are getting too close to each other now. You used to have at least a week between them, but now it's barely 48 hours. Maybe being off medicine isn't working good anymore.

Maybe you're no good.

You throw in a big hoodie, one that covers you, and some sweat pants, glancing at the big mirror in your room.

You can't stop analyzing yourself.

There's not one good thing on you is it?

Fuck.

The rest of the day was spent at your stupid 9-5, with your stupid boss, in your stupid, lonely life. Christ, being off anti-depressants is really hitting you hard. Everyone at your job is stupid and today every customer who wants to blow you ear off about how you kids these days, by the end of the day, your so tense that your shoulders are aching.

You got about 30 minutes left at this off-brand kroger store, when a big, big ass man walks in, shoving a mask with a skull print on it on. You curse to yourself, you really don't want to have to call the police for a robbery, you just want to go home.

To be honest, if he had a gun, you'd be half tempted to let him shoot you-

"Ma'am?" A heavy British accent came from your right. You turn your head, and scan his few items. You don't bother with the how are you's and you sigh.

"It'll be 16.84." You drag your eyes to his, and he reaches to his pocket, pulling out..

A wallet. What else were you thinking?

He hands you a twenty, and you hand him his respective change. He bags his own items, because honestly, you seem like the only worker in the store. Your face is written with exhaustion, whether it be from this job or something else, and the guy notices.

"Have uh... A good day." He nods to you, and walks off.

You purse your lips, and sigh, closing your cashier, because fuck finishing today. You're too close to a breakdown, and you're not trying to let anyone see.

You drive home, your hands tight around the wheel. You know it's a bad idea to be driving this emotional, to the point you wonder what would happen if you swerve your car into a tree.

You won't do it though.

You need to get back out there. It's why you stopped taking your meds.

You promise yourself that tomorrow you'll go out, and at least get a one night stand, you want need, anything.

Once home and in bed, you scroll and scroll and scroll. Doom scrolling is too common on these longer nights. You have a pillow tucked into your arm, and your hand squeezes it every time that pang in your lower chest rings out. Loneliness, you think.

You always scroll through your old friends instagrams or snapchats, seeing their nice bodies and nice boyfriends. You've been so nice and kind and karma should be on your side, but it always failed.

Especially after your last boyfriend.

Your friends say to wait.

To wait.

But waiting is getting harder. Days are getting longer, and your head seems to spin more when left to its own devices. Why do you have to wait?

Your looks.

Your personality.

Who'd wanna be seen with you?

You flip your phone over, and shove your face in the pillow, your breathing staggered.

You fell asleep late, that night. The tears brought you to exhaustion.

woah why did this take 2 tries to write.

be waiting for pt.2

TRUST FINALS ARE SOOM COMING TO AN END and summer i will be STEWING TRUST!!!

Taglist!

@i-am-hungry-24-7

thank you for all the support. drunk simon blew up and im crying bc i came back after a 2 year hiatus and i wasn't getting the same feedback as usual so to finally seeing people enjoy my work again makes me feel great. <3

sorry simon wasn't in this part much. you gotta know the reader first tho, right?

bye babes..

-a661

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon fluff #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost #simon riley call of duty #simon ghost fluff #mw2 ghost #call of duty x reader

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mortish-writes · 2 months ago

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[Play Bride of Shadows for Free] [Patreon Edition]

The Patreon for Bride of Shadows is live! All that whinging yesterday and it only took a few hours for them to approve it.

What's in The Nightborn Edition?

Right now, not a lot of extra stuff apart from Night V of the Zealot route. When I started writing Bride of Shadows, my aim was to avoid paywalling the story. I know from experience that there's no better time for romantic escapism than when you don't have money. So instead of clipping Bound/Unbound modes from the free version or stopping it after x amount of nights, I opted to make a version with early releases and fan-chosen extras. Each month, we're going to have polls on things like additional tendencies, story branches, and features that will be exclusive to The Nightborn Edition. Your version will have a lot of extra choices and even a few unique story lines.

I took the liberty of adding one much-requested feature to the new edition, and that is a brand new Bound Mode which has an MFM-poly story line and an optional Valdricht only route*. In this mode, Valdricht and Serax will have a platonic maker/progeny relationship. Starting in Night VI or VII (depending on your route) Bound mode players will be able to choose whether to try to juggle the passions of both ROs, or go deep down the Valdricht rabbit hole. Or you can make two save games and do both.

This Sunday we'll have our first poll relating to some baby stuff and I'll be posting an excerpt. Apart from that, I'll be pretty hands-off for the next few days as I focus on finishing the Heretic Night V route. As soon as that is done and edited, it'll be added to The Nightborn Edition as an early release. Then we'll have some polls that will let you shape Night VI and the upcoming NSFW content. I'm dying to write the NSFW Zealot scenes.

The extra content aside, the Patreon will go a long way toward helping me to write Bride of Shadows full-time, which means more content, more quickly, for everyone.

What if I can't/don't want to subscribe to Patreon?

The Nightborn Edition will be available on Steam once the Bride of Shadows IF is complete. I don't have a date on that, it will be dependent on whether I'll be able to write full-time this year. If there is a subscription service similar to Patreon that works in your country, let me know and I'll see about setting up an account.

For everyone else, the free Bride of Shadows updates will be one week after each Patreon update. They'll still have all the content I'd initially planned, including the NSFW stuff!

I donated on Ko-Fi, can I have a free month?

You sure can! In fact, I've already sent messages to everyone who gave a Ko-Fi donation. You should have a link waiting for you that will give you one or more free months of Darksinger membership, depending on how much you donated. If the value of your free months doesn't meet or exceed the amount of your Ko-Fi donation, let me know because I may have sent you the wrong link. Likewise, if you didn't get a message, let me know. I might still use Ko-Fi in the future, either for alternate memberships or goal funding, but for the time being Patreon isn't as temperamental with payments and NSFW content so I'll be focusing on that.

I am one of the two people who donated on Itch.

First of all, you're wonderful. Second, feel free to message me for a link to a free month of the Patreon or the March Nightborn password if you aren't able to do Patreon.

The Patreon page looks so boring and plain.

I KNOW! But I'm not allowed to make it look pretty until I finish Heretic Night V and the new Elovyr map. It's a rule I made because I know I'll sink at least a full day into making it look fancy. Also, The Nightborn Edition store page is basically identical to the regular game. It's driving me insane, too, but that's gotta wait. Writing always comes first.

Final Note

Please remember that the new edition is a work-in-progress and that the extra content will be added as patrons begin voting on it. Right now, it's very similar to the free version, with only the new Zealot night and some hidden variables. The Heretic route is under construction to make some updates for the new Bound mode and will not be playable until the Heretic Night V update next week.

Thanks for reading and supporting my writing. Even if you aren't able to subscribe to Patreon, I appreciate you just following me, chatting about the story, and sharing it with others who might enjoy it. I am grateful every day to be able to write and share Bride of Shadows with you.

-Mortish

*I hear you barking. I know you want a Serax-only route. Maybe it can be a thing later. I kind of have an idea of how we can make it work. Give me some time to think it through. I don't want to promise any story routes until I know 100% that they'll work in the context of the broader plot and that they'll be satisfying.

#bride of shadows if #patreon #interactive novel #spicy interactive fiction #twine wip #vampire romance #pregnancy romance #romantasy #itch.io #nightborn edition

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moonlume · 25 days ago

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This was mostly for Instagram as I've always felt much more comfortable on Tumblr, whether I'm on or off-topic, but I figured it's good to post it here too just as an update on what's been going on with me! I'm slowly getting back on track with things, I'll do more varied posting here too now I think :')

Plain text version under the read more:

Hi! Long time no see! Apologies for the sudden radio silence. I needed a long overdue break from social media. The truth is that I've been struggling with severe burnout for the last couple of years now. Between failed projects, changes in social media, and health issues, I've sadly developed a really negative and unhealthy outlook towards myself and my work, and I got really stuck in that mindset for a long time. Recently I heard a quote that was very fitting for what's been going on with me: "Don't start cleaning until you understand the mess." That is what I've been trying to do! I've been thinking and overthinking how I want to move forward with Moonlume, trying to understand those negative feelings and where they come from, and maybe, just maybe, I've found a path that I'm comfortable with. I'd like to delve into some of these topics with you, so read on if you're curious! Changes are coming!

SOCIAL MEDIA

I've been "in a relationship" with social media since I was about 15. I used to love it. I'm 30 now, and I've been trying to understand what made me so negative about it nowadays; not the parts I can't control, (algorithms, scams, AI, ads...) but my own presence and interaction with it. In hindsight, I should have realised what the main problem was sooner... When I was younger, the blogs I remember having a fun time running used to mostly be about what other people have made, and the things I enjoyed. I've been a small biz girlie since I was 16 (I used to run @FrozenCrafts before this! :D) but I've never liked being in a position where I only share my own work and nothing else. It's too much spotlight for me, too much pressure, especially with social media requiring consistency nowadays. I've always been an anxious, introverted person, and I now realise that this spotlight has been eating away at me. (Which is odd to say as someone who runs a small biz, I know.) I started getting even more anxious when, due to multiple reasons (more on that later) my output of new art really dropped off. Even though I've been working on Moonlume this whole time in the quiet background, I had very few new things to show for it. I couldn't help but compare myself to artists I really respect and look up to, who make new things every month, every week, and yes of course comparing yourself to others is a recipe for disaster, but... we all do it to some extent.

(And I definitely went overboard. At my lowest, I voiced some really awful things about both myself and my work...) Over time, the anxiety and frustration with myself got so bad that I couldn't stomach doing anything creative for a while, and eventually, I stopped all social media activity entirely. People say that burnout catches up to you and what do you know - the people are right... So... What's the solution here? Again, in hindsight, this should have dawned on me sooner. I've put myself in a cage just because "well that's how I've seen other people do it". And I'm sure many people will agree with the idea that a shop/smallbiz/brand account should just be about the brand! I totally get it! But I've realised that's not for me. From this day forward, I'd like to work towards making the Moonlume social media spaces be about everything cute, colourful and fun. I'd like to create an environment where it's not just about "Moonlume the art and products", but a place for everything that has inspired me, a place where I can share my favourite video games and artists with you, a place that isn't just a spotlight for me, but a spotlight for everything and everyone that made me fall in love with the cute and colourful aesthetics of this world. And I'd like to try and just have fun with social media again! It's been so long since I've been genuinely excited about making posts, yet here I am thinking "ohh I should take cute colourful layout pictures of my old 3DS and ask people if they're still using theirs!!". It is so relieving to feel excited again. Even typing this out feels like a rock being lifted from my heart.

And don't worry - the heart and soul of Moonlume is not going away. The colour explosion you see on my profile? That won't be changing! That is the vibe I'm going to keep here. Just with more variety, and less pressure on myself :)

HEALTH ISSUES

I mentioned that there are multiple reasons why I've become incredibly slow at releasing new designs. One of those is that I'm genuinely swamped with work all the time - running Moonlume is 95% emails, admin, customer service, etc. (I've been stuck in a "too much work for one person, not enough work + income for two people" stage for a long time now and I'm still trying to figure that one out.) I may not have much new creative work to show for it, but I DO have quite a few announcements to make soon! Opportunities for art I've already made kept coming up, so I've been prioritising those. The main reason, however... My joints. Ohh, my fail joints... For the last 3-4 years my wrist has been declining, or at least I thought it's just my wrist - it may be all my joints. Getting any answers from doctors as a "totally healthy" 30 year old has been frustrating - I still don't know what's wrong, scans have been booked and then lost, "oh just do stretches", "just wear a brace", "just need to rest". I listened to their generic advice at first, but considering that my hand was in pain almost all day yesterday, without me doing anything, I don't think rest is gonna save me here :/ All I can do is continue bugging them until they give me some answers. Until then... I have to work around my joints screaming at me. All this hit me really hard, because over the last couple of years, I've been trying to accept that I will no longer be able to draw the way I used to. Which sucks. I learned to do something I'm happy with and now I can't do it anymore. The work I used to make is just too detailed for me to tackle now - every set of designs would take about 4-5 days of intense drawing, and, apparently, I've also been holding the pen wrong since childhood which put extra strain on my wrist?? I've tried to unlearn this and couldn't... Holding a pen any other way is alien to me lol. But yep, that checks out - sometimes even writing grocery lists gets painful towards the end of the list, which takes like 5min. Or, sometimes, lifting a mug "wrong" sends lightning through my whole hand. So... How can I move forward with this? I doubt my joints are going to get any better, but I still want to continue running Moonlume. Besides using old designs for new products (not very exciting, I know, but people want them and that has helped so much - we are saving up for a family and I'm thankful for any income I can get!), creatively, I think I'd like to start calling myself less of an illustrator, and more of a product/stationery designer? A mouse doesn't strain my hand as much, depending on the day anyway, and I've been able to release at least something new with simple shapes recently - like my “You can never have too many stickers” sticker book! I'm really glad it's been well received, I've just gotten a second batch of these books in, it made me hopeful that there could still be a future for me in the world of stationery if I just change things up. Yes, I will forever be sad that I can no longer tackle the dreamy, detailed designs anymore. I had a lot of sketches and ideas ready to go, I had goals and skills I wanted to reach for... But I've been grieving this for way too long now and I want to learn to let go and move on.

FINAL THOUGHTS

So... Yeah. Everything I've just said, that cocktail of emotions and problems, it was really affecting my mental health over the last few years. I've been stuck in an endless cycle of disappointment in myself. The shame over not doing enough, not making new things fast enough, or as interesting/meaningful as other people, on top of struggling to let go of past failures and getting frustrated with joint problems... all that made me develop some really messy feelings towards both myself and my work. There were points where I was fantasising about burning it all down just to have a fresh start. It was bad :( BUT! With a clearer head and armed with perspective from people I love, I can say this: I AM proud of what I've made so far! I no longer look at my work and loathe it like I did for a while. Looking back, damn, that was a super unhealthy perspective and I'm glad I can recognise it now. And even though, thanks to my fail joints, I'm no longer able to make things the way I used to... I'm learning to accept this and I'm looking forward to the future. I'm excited to talk more about things I love, excited to make the Moonlume social media space be more varied and give it a breath of fresh air! Posting about my work/products all the time also left very little room for discussion and chatting with you guys, and I miss the feeling of community, so I'm excited to make this a livelier space! That doesn't mean that the art part of Moonlume is going anywhere - it's still my beloved little shop, and I'll still be making things for (hopefully!!) many years to come, just at a slower, much more comfortable and sustainable pace. ♥

Thank you so much for reading this and hearing me out. The support I've received from everyone here over the last 8 years has been genuinely invaluable - my head spins daily from the thought that my little creations have had the chance to travel the whole world thanks to you... It's truly magical. I hope that with this new chapter I can reconnect with the community once more, and move on to a brighter future! Love you all! ♥

Maple

#might still finish the bg3 shirts one day cause im so upset i got so far and dropped them.. id still like one just for myself ngl..#but they might need redrawing in higher res for printing and the fronts arent designed at all yet so idk!! maybe one day.....#artists on tumblr #my drawings and wares #art #burnout

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thekoalapastriesbakery · 3 months ago

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Vinnie, poly!sargebon x demon/woobat!reader might just be the best thing ever omg. You know that one video where alex drives logan around monaco? I can imagine that but with reader in the backseat just along for the ride because they saw them walking around.

🦈

sharkie!!! missed you around here :D

poly!sargebon + woobat!reader courtesy of the wonderful amazing brilliant mind of @babybearnation <3

to be perfectly honest i don't know exactly which video you're talking about but i think i get the gist so ... :D

everyone knows the williams boys have a habit of doing some odd shit. whether it's alex or logan influencing that ... well, nobody's quite sure. what they are sure of is that they didn't expect a literal demon to casually show up in one of their pr videos.

it starts off pretty normal. alex is just driving around the principality and pointing out racing-related bits to logan. of course, they make it entertaining in their very own brand of wildly unhinged gay tension, but it's still a fairly basic video.

and then they spot you. their beloved demon boyfriend, just casually walking around. they had told you about the video they were shooting, and you had told them not to worry about you because you were busy anyway. evidently, you might have stretched the truth a bit there.

you did have a couple errands to run!! and you did always try to allow extra time for when you were inevitably stopped on the street—whether by someone who was very upset about you "poisoning innocents at the whim of the Devil™"; or by little kids who wanted to see you fly, to marvel at your blue hair, and to see what your horns felt like. while you were known to snap at the anti-demon crowd, you always indulged the young children. showing them kindness for a few minutes wasn't as hard as a lot of people made it out to be.

regardless, it didn't take you very long. wandering around monaco seemed as good a way as any to pass the time until your boyfriends returned from their effort in the war against media training.

alex pulled up beside you and logan did one of those cheeky wolf whistles. you turned around and levelled them with an unimpressed look, but you didn't exactly hesitate when they told you to get in the back.

the video subject quickly turned away from the interesting facts about racing in monaco. williams marketing had a two-hour long video, and one hour and forty-five minutes of it was alex and logan ranting about how cool you were and asking you to show the camera your hair, or your wings, or your eyes closer.

"the people deserve to know how pretty our boyfriend is!!"

it's williams' most popular post to date.

#vinnie.fics #formula 1 x male reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x male reader #f1 x reader #alex albon x male reader #alex albon x reader #logan sargeant x male reader #logan sargeant x reader #sargebon x male reader #sargebon x reader #poly!sargebon #demon!reader #🦈 anon

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artdotpage · 2 years ago

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Problems facing modern artists & creators

I've talked with hundreds of artists and creators about the difficulties they face trying to earn a living from their craft.

This post covers two of the big ones (social media algorithms & bargain basement marketplaces), and what tools are available to grow your business despite these issues.

Social Media Algorithms and Audience Ownership

Social media platforms are a godsend for getting your work in front of potential clients and building a loyal fan base.

However as you will all have experienced, it can take a mastermind to figure out what kind of content the algorithm wants you to post, and if you don't do that you'd be as well throwing your content into the void as even your own followers might not see your post, never mind new viewers.

It also means you don't truly own your audience, if you post something slightly controversial your account could be deleted without warning, or perhaps a billionaire buys the site and everyone flocks to a new platform where you have to start growing your following all over again.

Solution: Build a mailing list

This is perhaps the single best marketing tool available to any business, and is sorely overlooked by artists and creators.

It's cost effective and because you own your mailing list it doesn't matter what's happening on social sites, you can always keep in touch with them.

The tricky part is converting people into mailing list subscribers. However I've seen plenty of creators successfully build one by offering incentives including free digital downloads, early access to content, discounts on your store etc.

Those who sign up to your mailing list would be considered high quality followers, someone who is much more likely to convert to a paid client and buy from you again in the future compared to the average follower on social media.

Tools

https://art.page/

https://substack.com/

https://convertkit.com/

Losing clients to undercutting competitors on the same platform/marketplace

If you run your business on a marketplace or platform, your clients are one click away from finding plenty of other choices who are willing to undercut everyone else to land a sale.

These sites have no incentive to make sure that traffic you drive to your profile actually purchase from you. Whether a sale is made through your listing or another seller, they collect their fee either way.

They also use uniform designs which reduce you to a generic product listing. Whilst this can simplify the customer experience, it means you have no control over the sales funnel and ability to differentiate yourself, making it harder to convert potential clients into paying customers.

Solution: Direct clients to your own site

Use your own personal website to make sales from, there are plenty of options with no monthly charge and lower fees than marketplaces. This lets you make dedicated marketing pages showcasing your best work to make a client excited about doing business with you, instead of just being a generic product listing.

Take advantage of marketplaces purely for their customer base. Don't rely on them as your sole business platform. This way, any fees you pay are worthwhile to generate sales you wouldn't have had otherwise.

Tools

https://art.page/

https://www.bigcartel.com/

https://squareup.com/

Interested in more?

There's plenty more I have to share on this topic, including:

How to properly use Print on Demand without getting ripped off

Streamline managing your business so you spend more time creating and growing your business.

How to better utilize your brand to connect with clients and increase sales

So let me know if you’re interested and I’ll get writing!

Transparency

I'm building https://art.page to solve these exact issues, with the goal to create the best all in one site builder for artists and creators that makes running your business easy.

#artdotpage #artpage #artists on tumblr

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ruukina · 2 years ago

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WOLFISH

FANDOM: final fantasy xvi PAIRING: clive rosfield x reader ( gender neutral, afab ) RATING: explicit / 18+. minors dni. SUMMARY: After an exhausting week of running around Valisthea, you return home with your heart full and missing a certain outlaw. What you find upon your return is different... but not unwelcomed. WARNINGS: slightly rough sex, dirty talking, breeding kink, implied heat cycle. WORD COUNT: 7.7k

A/N: yeah i'm fairly down bad for this man. i normally don't write reader fics but i'm trying to expand my horizons so. here we are. gotta feed myself in this economy right?? expect more ffxvi stuff, whether its reader insert or other shit because the brainworms are very bad.

read on ao3!

It’s a silent ride back to Hideaway, as it always is on these solo missions of yours.

It’s not a common thing, but every so often you find yourself having to run around all of Valisthea with the job of making payments and collecting orders from the many kind souls that have been helping the cause that even keeps your personal home afloat. In fact, you could even say as Cid’s personal advisor, this was your main job; Otto was busy running the Hideaway and keeping it in check, so the job fell to you when you weren’t tailing after the man you worked under.

You also didn’t mind it, because it meant you had some time to yourself. You had the wind at your back, the smell of sea water to keep you company, and you could be in your thoughts alone.

Usually you didn’t mind it, at the very least.

It’s not a long task to do or even a hard one, in fact you’d argue that most of your time spent there is arguing with the likes of Martha and Isabelle and even L’ubor to accept the gil that Cid himself has offered to give them, but this month’s mission of yours was different. It seemed like a certain boss of yours had racked up a few requests and the people he graciously helped either wanted to give him a reward or send a letter to ask for more help. And since you were unfortunately playing messenger, it meant that you were basically running around and doing his job… in the sense of gathering the requests and gifts, of course.

So, you were being a little delayed in returning. You made sure to send a Stolas, to let everyone know you weren’t dead - just incredibly busy.

But now you finally found yourself on the ferry back home and you were impatient to get back. Excited to get back to everyone, excited to finally be returning after about a week of having to travel by Chocobo to get to everywhere.

Excited to return back to him.

“Hey, Obolus, are we almost there yet?” You peer over to the ferryman, the wind wilding through your hair.

Obolus didn’t even look back at you, as he ‘tsks’ in response. “We’ll get there when we get there. Asking every five seconds won’t make the boat go any faster.”

You scrunch your nose at him, but he did unfortunately have a point. The trip usually never feels so long, but after being away for what seems like months, you were just anxious to get back and rest your feet. The silence of the ride passes, with only the sound of waves pressing against the exterior of the boat.

You lean against the side and take the chance to reflect on all that’s happened. All that you’ve experienced.

All that you’ve done.

You don’t really remember when you became Cid’s advisor. It’s had to have been years at this point, you remember only barely being what one would call an adult. You were a bearer without a brand, hiding your magic behind crystals. It’s what your father had taught you, to protect you from the cruel world you were born in. You were cursed, your mother refused to even acknowledge your existence - even more so after the death of your father. You only lived the way that you did because your mother loved your father more than she loved you, and made your father take care of you.

Your father never gave up on you. An idealist in a world of realists, he really thought you could be the one to change the world.

He set himself up for failure, you bitterly had thought when news of his death arrived at your doorstep. He died for a cause he believed in, sure, but now he expected you to carry on that torch for him. And maybe there was a part of you that wanted to fight for a better world than the one you were handed, for those like you. You weren’t really sure what your true feelings were at that time.

There was one thing you did know, however; you knew you weren’t safe in your mother’s care, so you ran the day after your father’s passing and never looked back. You’re not even sure if your mother is even still alive or if she even misses you. Did she start anew, start all over with someone else and have a child she could be proud of?

As the years went on, you found that you didn’t even care. You can’t remember her face anymore.

You were crafty, a trickster, because that’s what kept you alive. Somehow, your paths with Cidolfus Telamon crossed. Not just once or twice, but five times. Four times, you rejected his appraisal and invitation to join him.

On the fifth path crossed, and the day he saved you from death, you finally joined him. You didn’t really expect to stay long in Hideaway, only thinking you would spend a few weeks or even a month before you jumped ship. You never stayed in one place for long, because it was always too dangerous for you to attach yourself to people. But everyone was so kind, so nice to you, and welcomed you with open arms.

Especially Cidolfus.

You clung to him a lot, maybe because despite only meeting him five times he was the only person you really knew, and somehow you managed to become his advisor with your skills and your ability to pull him back to the ground. Otto was against it at first, not because he didn’t like you, but you were barely an adult. Yet, Cid had smiled and patted you on the shoulder, telling Otto that there was more to you than meets the eye.

It’s much more than what your mother gave you. Worthless, unneeded, dirty, sinful - that’s all that she had called you. Your own father would try and raise your spirits, but her words were sharp as a knife and they cut wounds in your wrists. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and you stayed. You stayed with the people who would become your family.

One day, Cid left with Goetz and the wolf he ( or rather, charon ) cared for, because of rumors of Shiva’s Dominant finally rising in a place where he can finally catch her, to give her the freedom she needed. He came back with Goetz carrying a girl on his back, and a branded man with the wolf practically attached to his hip.

Clive Rosfield.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but the man before you would change your life completely.

Cid introduced you to him, asking you to watch over him and help him adjust to the Hideaway. It’s almost funny to think about, because despite Clive’s grumblings about ‘not staying long’ ( words that echoed in your head as familiar, because you had said the same thing ), when you finally got track of him again, he was out helping the people of Hideaway.

You made a joke about that and he quickly looked away, some colour on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It was a cute sight, unsightly for a rugged man like him. Despite his appearances, he was kind and soft, albeit a bit cynical from the hardships he faced in his life. Then you ended up helping him help people, because there wasn’t much to do at that time and you needed to stretch your legs, and that’s how Cid decided on his great idea to make Clive your personal assistant.

Clive then realized when Cid told him you ran him ragged, he meant it, because once Cid assigned Clive to you, it didn’t take you long to get him working because as long as someone could move, they could work. But of course, you joined Clive on his journey to help him out. Some days you had to stay at Hideaway but for the most part, you were at his side alongside Cid.

You and Clive bonded together. Quick whips with one another, long nights together trying to figure out your next course of action with the Mothercrystals and how to save Valisthea, and slowly he became someone you… well, liked, essentially. You don’t exactly make friends with people, because you’ve never really had the chance to do so, but somehow Clive stabbed his way into your life and heart.

He became softer with you, and you did too. You found it was easy to smile with him, to laugh with him, to love him. It scared you, because Clive was a Dominant - the second, mysterious Eikon of Fire, and yet something so much more than that. It was basically a target on your back, even more so than the relationship you had with Cid.

But you found that you couldn’t stop loving him, that you would endure the burning world for him. Maybe that scared you more.

He held you when you sobbed and broke down over Cid - the first time your mask of being strong ever cracked. You hated it, you hated being weak, because Cid didn’t need weak people helping him. Cid needed someone who could put themselves back together, but this time you couldn’t. The pieces of you were scattered all over the floor like glass and every time you picked one up, you cut your hand and let the blood drip from your wound.

Yet, Clive held you. He held you close, he didn’t judge you, because he was crying alongside you. Cid meant so much to everyone, including him. You sat in his arms, and he didn’t leave until he knew he could leave you alone without worrying over you. His gentleness contrasted his roughened up look, he looked at you so softly and filled with fondness towards you. He was not afraid to help pick up the pieces, even if it meant cutting his hands in the process.

He put you back together, and he didn’t complain about it. Not even once.

Your relationship with him bloomed. Your friendship with him became something new, something else. It was a dangerous love, because of who Clive Rosfield is - what he is. Yet, you never swayed. You never faltered.

No matter what, he’s Clive to you.

But in public, he is Cid and you are Cid’s advisor - like you always were. You two were professional on the outside, only sneaking away to shed those titles when you had enough time to. You didn’t get those chances a lot, but when you did he made sure to treat you like you were a deity. You’ve had lovers in the past, but they never made you feel like Clive made you feel. He made you feel loved, appreciated, cared for. You took care of him, but he always took care of you in return. He never simply just took, he always gave back.

No wonder you were anxious to get back to him; you’ve missed him dearly.

“We’re approaching the Hideaway!”

The ferryman’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You open your eyes, quickly looking towards the horizons. Even in the blackest of nights, with the moon being your only light, you could see the shape of the broken down airship that you and everyone else called home. You could feel the smile creeping on your face.

“I’m home,” you whisper.

To who exactly? Not yourself, but to the man who was waiting for you.

You thank Obolus for the ride home as you step off of the boat, quickly rushing up the stairs. Most people had turned in for the night so there were only a few souls still haunting the Hideaway, and they offered their greetings to you and a cheery ‘welcome back, advisor!’, to which you returned with a smile.

You feel a little silly rushing through the halls, like an eager child, but you were happy to be home.

You were happy about seeing him again.

You skid to a stop when you reached your destination. The Tub and Crown was a bit of a ghost town around this time, but you knew there were still a few people aside from Maeve haunting the area.

And you weren’t wrong. There sat Gav and Jill, with Torgal laying at Jill’s side. The hound lifts his head up at the sound of your footsteps, and once he lays his eyes on you he quickly stands up and rushes over towards you with a happy sounding bark. Since becoming Clive’s partner, Torgal never really left your side either. If he wasn’t with his owner or Jill, he was shuffling at your hip and following you around.

“Torgal!” You greet happily, kneeling on the ground to pet him and spoil him with some treats you carried on hand once you got close enough to where the two sat.

The two break from their conversation to see what Torgal was barking at, both of them greeting you with a smile on their faces.

“Well, if it ain’t our favorite advisor!” Gav slams his drink down. He looks you over, peering at the basket of gifts and requests at your side - all for a certain someone. “Talk about bein’ fashionably late. You weren’t kiddin’ when you said almost everyone in Valisthea was keepin’ you away.”

Jill nods her head in agreement, cupping her own chin to look over the heavy basket. “It sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure yourself.”

“Oh, it was the same ol’ stuff I deal with everyday. Just this time everyone in Valisthea caught wind that Cid’s advisor was in town and decided to make it their problem.” You rub Torgal’s belly, to which the hound accepts with happy pants.

Speaking of the aforementioned man… You look to the side of Gav. No handsome brooding man there.

You look to the side of Jill. No handsome brooding man there, either.

“Where is Clive?” You stop petting Torgal for a moment. “I figured he would be hanging out with you.”

Gav rolls his eyes a little, both good naturedly but also in some slight annoyance. “Went right to his chambers to work on things when we got back. He’s been in a bloody mood all week.” The scout holds up a finger. “Scowlin’ more than usual, more antsy than usual, tappin’ his foot while he waits at the door.” Every reason is met with a finger going up. “Not like everyone is afraid of him here, but it felt like we had to walk on eggshells around him. Even Charon was tryin’ not to rib him so hard.”

You blink a little, a brow raised. “Has the missions been going poorly or something?”

“Fuck no,” Gav shakes his head in response. “Everything’s been going smoothly. He’s just been actin’ like a shite.”

“He hasn’t been that bad,” counters Jill. Though, there’s a slight pause of hesitation from her. “But Gav isn’t wrong, he has been in a bit of a mood. More than likely, he was just worried about you.”

Worried about you? It’s not like you can’t handle yourself, and you’ve definitely been on missions longer than a week without him. You can’t help but scrunch your nose in thought - as always, when you’re thinking hard. Something was up with him, clearly.

Jill reads you like a book, with a smile on her face. “He’s still up, last time I checked. He’s burying his nose in reports as to distract himself. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the visit from you.” She stands up from her seat, as Torgal also rolls over and trots back to her side. “I’ve got some work to do with Tarja, but it was nice seeing you tonight.”

You nod your head, standing up and dusting yourself off. “Tarja, huh? Try not to stay up too late with her, alright?” You laugh a little when Shiva’s dominant huffs softly at your teasing, giving you just a gentle nudge in return. The two of you have gotten quite close over the years, and she was supportive of you and Clive. You felt like you could sigh in relief at that, that you didn’t have to worry about Clive’s childhood friend coming after you.

Gav finishes his drink, standing up as well. “I’m turnin’ in for the night.” He pats your shoulder with a grin on his face. “Make sure you give our leader a nice, warm welcome!”

He only grins harder seeing your cheeks turn red like a tomato at the implication of his words, and Jill’s soft laughter only makes you turn ever redder. Ah, there was your punishment for teasing Jill. The three of them make their way out of the alehouse, your eyes following them as you think about your conversation.

He’s in a mood.

What could he be in a mood about? You’ll have to do some digging, which isn’t hard - if there’s one thing Clive is with you that not even a sour mood could change, it’s that he was honest with you. It’s one of his best traits, really, that he’s open with his feelings and doesn’t usually shy away from speaking his mind about certain things. It’s not always easy, because there are some things he keeps to his chest, but for the most part communication is always important between you two. You pick up the basket of gifts and quickly make it to the end of the hall, where Clive’s chambers were.

And well, they were technically your chambers too, you think with the heat growing at your cheeks once more.

Shifting the basket a little, you use your free hand to knock on his chamber doors - once, twice and thrice.

“The door’s unlocked.” Clive’s low voice fills your ears. He already has you sighing and letting out a quivering breath. Founder, you’ve missed him.

You open the door with a smile on your face. You take in the sights before you - his room is as you left it, with the man himself seated at the desk. He seems to be burying himself in his usual reports and paperwork, just as Jill said. He didn’t even lift his head upon you entering.

“Guess who.” You smile, as you close the door behind you.

The sound of your voice has Clive immediately lift his head from his work. Cerulean eyes widened, the quill he was using drops from between his fingers and clattering on the desk.

“You’re back.” He sounds almost breathless. His chest raises a little as he breathes in and out, those cerulean eyes of him looking a lot more puppy-dog than usual.

This was different, indeed.

You walk towards him, placing the basket on the edge of the desk not covered in scattered papers. “Just got back. Gifts for you by the way, I was hunted down by weary souls who wanted to give their thanks to the so-called Cid the Outlaw.” You peer at him with a gentle, loving smile on your face.

He laughs a little in response, a rare smile forming on his own features. “No wonder you’re late. Sorry about that. I’ll be sure to pen my thanks to them soon.”

You shake your head at him. “Oh, don’t even start with the apologies. It’s my job to aid you, it’s kind of in the title.” A pause, shifting your feet a little as you hold your hands behind your back, shyly. “And… you know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

The words you whisper made him smile a little more. “You have perfect timing. I’m actually finishing up and I could use your advice.” He nudges his chair back a little, gently patting his thigh.

For a moment, you stare with a tilted head, until you realize the implications. Your cheeks turn red.

Oh, he’s inviting you to sit there.

Oh, this was different, indeed.

But you don’t hesitate or falter at all. You take a seat on his thigh, leaning against him. One of his strong arms wraps themselves around your waist, pulling your body flushed against his. The position is a little embarrassing, you have to admit to yourself, but it feels warm, comforting - loving. It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into place, flipping through the letters and offering your advice and help to him.

It also doesn’t take long for Clive to stop paying attention. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. His hot breath tickles your skin, a shiver running down your spine, as his fingers draw circles in your hip. His lips ghosts around your skin, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your neck as though he was whispering forbidden words in your skin. The quill from his fingers once again falls onto the desk, the reports forgotten about as his attention shifts to you. It’s hard to focus when he’s like this, so you decide to also forget about the many papers that littered his desktop.

“Jill and Gav told me you were in a mood.” You finally shift the conversation to what was really on your mind.

Clive only offers a grunt at first. “I’m not really in a mood.”

“Are you? You’re acting a little differently tonight.” Your fingers run through his hair, out of his eyes. “What’s on your mind, Clive? You know you can tell me.”

For a moment, he hesitates, but he knows he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. You know he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. He pulls you close to him, finally lifting his head to look you in the eye.

“I was fine when you left, but after a day, it felt like there was a pit in my stomach.” Clive runs his fingers up and down your hip. “Hunger, I suppose, is the best way to describe it.”

“Hunger?”

“I felt like I couldn’t focus with you gone. It was worse when I was here alone. Your scent was so much stronger than it usually was…” Clive recounts, averting his gaze for a moment from slight embarrassment, but he quickly focuses back on you. “The more days you were away, the more the hunger grew.”

“And the grouchier you got?” You tease him, though your tease was cut short and replaced with a slight yelp when he pinches your thigh with a huff.

“I wasn’t grouchy.” He counters, but his tone of voice sounds like he’s not exactly fighting the accusation.

You think about what he’s said, though. A hunger he felt for you. It started happening when you first left. He found that your scent was stronger than normal, even when you weren’t there. The symptoms sounded fairly familiar to you, and you hummed a little in thought as you ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned in delight at that, leaning into your touch and burying his face in the crook of your neck once more.

“Maybe you’re going through a rut?”

Clive lifts his head up. “A rut? I’m not a dog, love.”

“I mean, you travel with a dog, you constantly have a permanent puppy-dog eyes look on you and you turn into a dog-lizard thing. You’re kind of dog-adjacent.” You shrug cheekily, with an equally cheeky smile on your face. “But I’m serious about the last thing. We don’t know a whole lot about Ifrit. Maybe it’s going through some kind of rut or something and it’s affecting you. It is springtime, you know. Maybe nature is just setting course for Ifrit, too.”

It’s a pretty plausible theory. Clive stops to think about it for a brief moment, his breath tickling your neck once more as you sigh. Still, he says nothing at first and pauses his movements, until he looks right back up at you, his gaze meeting yours.

“You do realize the implications of your theory, right?” His pupils are blown out, more than usual. His strong, calloused hands grip your hips, shifting you a little so your lower half is flushed right against his.

Oh, there’s something pressing against you. Your body warms up, a heat and ache pooling right in your core.

You didn’t realize how much you miss his body pressing against yours in such a sinful manner, until he rolls his hips against yours in want and need.

“I meant what I said,” you begin to say, your hands gripping to his shoulders as you slowly grind against the bulge in his pants, meeting his hips’ movements. You couldn’t help but grin a little when he moaned lowly, a sound just for you. “You know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

That’s all you’re able to get out at that point, because once you give him permission to do what he needs to do, Clive’s lips press against yours. It was only a sweet, soft kiss for a for seconds at best, because it quickly turned into something fierce, hungry. His tongue prods against your lips, wanting access into your warm mouth, and you gladly part your lips for him, because you need him as much as he needs you. Your tongue presses and swirls against his - it’s a small battle for dominance you never win, but you know he likes a small challenge. His own tongue presses and pins yours, until you ease away to let him completely take the reins.

The kiss is hot, wet, truly sinful. His hands grope everywhere he could, mostly squeezing at your thighs and hips with his fingers digging into your soft, plump flesh until they found their way to your rear. Squeezing and grabbing, groping in such a way that would make you flustered had you not been needy with your own arousal, he lifts you up as though you’re made of nothing but feathers, and truly you’re a little limp in his grasp. Clive’s strength always managed to make you feel dizzy, in a good way, and that doesn’t change here. He pushes his chair back, leaving the desk and the many reports he still has to do in the dust and makes his way towards his bed - your shared bed.

He only breaks the kiss to place you down on the mattress, gentle pants leaving both of your lips as a string of saliva connects the two of you. It breaks as he pulls away a little more, only to dive back in and press fluttering, wet kisses to your neck. Just like the kiss from before, it turns into something a little more hot and brutal; his lips suck at your skin to give it a bruising mark, teeth sinking into your flesh to draw just a little bit of blood from you. You groan hotly, your fingers gripping at his dark locks as your hips jolt upwards. Clive licks and kisses at the bruise and bite mark he left, panting gently against your flesh.

“You still taste so, so good.” Clive whispers into your skin, as his hands tug right at your shirt. He tries his best not to rip it, but unbuttoning your shirt during these kinds of acts was never exactly a cleanful tact, because you can already see a few buttons pop off just from him ripping it open. You chuckle a little; some things really don’t change.

Your chest is bared to him, and Clive wastes no time in pressing gentle kisses on naked skin. Trailing down, he kisses, licks and sucks on any skin he could latch himself onto and sinks teeth into your sink that leaves behind a delicious sting of pain, until finally reaching your left breast. Your breath hitches a little as his tongue swirls around the nub of your nipple, the hitched breath morphing into a needy moan once his lips latch around it to give it a gentle suck. His fingers tease and play with the unattended one, his attacks on you relentless and cruel - cruel in the sense he never slowed down.

“Clive.” you whine with a high-pitched voice, trying your best to roll your hips against his. But he doesn’t let you, pinning you down with just his pelvis. He lifts his head up, a smirk on his face.

“Just lay there and let me make you feel good,” whispers Clive. The way his low voice sounded so commanding, you can’t help but obey him. He was always like this, though; he was always chasing for your pleasure and never his own. He loved you, he wanted to make you feel good. It was never really fair! But at the same time, it truly was nice. He was so different from lovers you had in the past, who only cared about their own needs.

He attends to your other breast, giving it the same treatment - a lick here, a suck there, leaving a trail of bruises and bite marks in his wake. Once he’s satisfied, his lips start to trail downwards. He worships you like this, with his lips and his tongue, making sure there’s a patch of skin with his mark on it. His hands make work of your bottoms, pulling off the offending fabric until you were just left in your undergarments. You expect to feel his fingers on your skin so he can pull them down, but instead when you look down, you see Clive is using his teeth to pull them down.

Oh, this is different. Normally he takes his time with you; press himself against you, kiss you all over. Even as someone who prefers to please his partners more than please himself, it seems like tonight he’s impatient.

“Seems like someone’s been wanting this,” chuckles Clive as he spreads your lower lips a little to inspect you. “You’re already so soaked. All I did was tease you a little. Founder, you’re as depraved as I am.” His hot breath hits your wetness as he speaks, never once pressing his lips against you. You jolt a little at the feeling, a soft huff escaping your lips.

“You started this mess,” You tell him, your fingers already gripping in his hair. “You finish it.”

Another chuckle leaves his lips. Clive is impatient, though, and he wastes no time in pressing his lips right against your dripping entrance. His tongue is relentless here just as it was on your skin; it wastes no time in slipping inside of you, as he starts to drink your essence and fuck you with his tongue alone. It’s almost unbearable to you, in a good way - he drinks like a man starved.

Clive is so good to you, but he knows how to be so cruel, because he knows you enjoy it. He knows how easily you melt on his tongue, and he enjoys every single moment of it.

His fingers slip in as well, two of them pumping in and out as he moves upwards a little, finding your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks at it and you feel the smirk against your entrance as soon as you squeak and moan from his actions. He licks, sucks, his movements becoming faster with each second that passes. You’re trying so hard to swallow back your moans, but the moment his lips wrap around your clit and give it a hard suck, you can’t control your volume anymore. It echoes off of the walls, embarrassingly so, but your mind is so fogged that you don’t seem to care like you usually would.

The knot in your lower stomach painfully tightens, you can feel yourself reaching your peak as Clive continues to tease your clit and thrust his fingers in and out of you. Just as you’re about to find your release, though, he abruptly stops. He pulls himself off of you, his fingers are coated with your essence.

“Clive–” You begin to whine, almost in pain. You stop yourself short when you watch him lick his fingers clean - slowly, like he’s putting on a show for you. Once they’re clean, he looks at you as though he’s a predator who has caught prey in his trap. The slight darkness of the room makes his cerulean eyes have a glow to them. The knot in your stomach returns.

He intends to devour you, his way. He’s going to drag this out, until you’re begging and crying for release.

Clive crawls back onto the bed, his hands moving to undo all of the leathers and fabric of his clothing, until he’s as bare as you are. His cloak and shirt go first, dropping onto the ground until his chest is revealed to you. Greagor, you could probably write several missives about Clive’s chest and muscles, but despite what your lover may say, you’re not that depraved. You keep all of those thoughts to yourself, like a good advisor should. Your eyes drift down with his hands, watching as they fumble a little with his belt, stifling a laugh from how needy and excited he is.

You stop laughing once he finally does undo his belt and pull his pants down, revealing his hard cock to you. You’ve seen it before, it’s been inside of you multiple times now, but you still hitch your breath when you see it. The gods certainly graced Clive with something to brag about, for certain.

If you ever do meet Ultima maybe you should thank him for giving his vessel something that would make you cross your eyes and forget your own name, but something tells you a narcissistic god obsessed with the purity of his vessel may not appreciate the sonnets a mere mortal would write about said vessel’s cock.

Pre-cum dribbles at the tip, his fingers coated in a mix of his saliva and your juices as he uses it to his advantage to stroke himself a little, to really give you a show now. You hear yourself panting, your chest heaving up and down as you watch the sinful sight before you.

“Enjoying yourself?” Clive smirks, smugness in his voice.

You huff a little in response. “I’ll only enjoy myself when you actually fuck me instead of showing off, Rosfield.”

He laughs a little, leaning down to kiss your forehead sweetly. “As my faithful advisor commands.”

You have no time to respond, as he quickly flips you so you’re on your stomach, face slightly pressed against the pillow beneath you. He presses his front against your back, the tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds teasingly. Your needy whine and rear thrusting back to try and get him inside of you earns a laugh from him, but thankfully he’s not intensely cruel tonight. He presses inside of you, though it’s not as slow as he normally is. Normally he takes his time with you, but in just seconds he’s got his entire length inside of you. You feel the way his body shudders against your back, your soaked walls clenching around him. A sigh passes your lips, morphing into a moan.

You’ve missed this. You’ve missed him.

His thrusts are slow at first, but it doesn’t take him long for him to pick up his speed. His hips meet your backside, a wonderful symphony of skin slapping against each other fills the room, loud enough to make your ears burn with embarrassment. You bury your face in the pillow to muffle your moans. A hand wraps itself around the back of your neck, though, to pull you up towards its owner. Clive’s heavy breath is in your ear now, worsening your arousal.

“Don’t hide your voice from me,” pants Clive, sharp teeth nibbling at your earlobe. “I want to hear you.”

And you find that you can’t deny him. Your moans are loud, needy, your knuckles turning white from how roughly you’re gripping the sheets to the point where they might tear. His other hand snakes down your stomach, reaching your lower half, and his fingers make work on your clit. It’s a slow rub, his thrusts contrasting the gentleness of his fingers. You can feel yourself reaching your peak, you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening until–

Until he pulls right out of you.

You whine, loudly, at the loss. Your walls clench at nothing, and you try to thrust yourself back towards him, but Clive doesn’t let you do that. Instead, he flips you both again - him on his back and you sitting on his lap. He looks up at you with a smile, his hand running up and down your stomach once more.

“I know exactly what you like.” The outlaw says, pulling you forward so his cock rests right against your stomach. You feel how hot it is, how hard it is, and how it throbs and pulsates against your skin. “Show me how much you want to cum.”

Oh, he’s definitely dragging this out as long as he can. You can’t exactly blame him, you don’t want this to end either.

But you also really need to reach your peak, otherwise you may burn the whole Hideaway down.

Your wobbly legs manage to hold yourself up, slowly moving down on him. Your whole body shudders as his cock fills you up again, the tip pressing against the deepest parts of your inside. You move up and down on his length, moans and pants spilling from your lips as you decide to not hide your voice any longer - because he wants to hear you. And you can’t deny him, because you don’t want to deny him.

“Founder, your voice alone drives me mad.” Clive growls, his hand squeezing your thigh as he thrusts upwards to meet your own movements. “Tried to focus on my work, tried to put you out of my head for days, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I needed you blissed out on my cock–”

He’s rambling, his voice low and rough, and you love every second of it. Clive’s not much of a talker, but when he is, he makes you feel so depraved for him. Your legs were starting to shake and feel weak already, but you push yourself - you push yourself because you want this. Because you need this from him, just as much as he needed this from you.

“Clive,” you chant his name like a prayer, over and over again. You must sound delirious.

But Clive clearly doesn’t seem to mind, the way his back arches a little just from the sound of your sweet voice. It’s a powerful feeling, you realize, having such a powerful man like him weak at you - a mere mortal, a bearer but not a Dominant. Yet, it’s a good reminder that beneath everything, Clive is a mortal man as well.

“Can you feel me, sweetheart?” He places his hand on your lower stomach, feeling the way it bulges a little from the sheer size of him. You look down, shuddering at the sight as he continues to thrust upwards, your eyes following how the bulge disappears then reappears. “You take me so fucking well. It’s like you were made for me, the way you shake your hips like a woman at the Veil.”

You can’t respond, any time you try to all that fumbles from your lips are moans and whines of pure pleasure.

“I can get so deep into you like this,” groans Clive, his other hand grasping at your hip. “All the way into you. Fuck, I could breed you right here. I could make you swell with my child.”

Oh, that’s different.

And it’s clearly a good different, the way your body responds. Your walls clench around him, as if your body had a mind of its own, as if your body was begging for the man to breed you. He notices too, and he licks his lips and smirks once he realizes you may enjoy the idea as he did.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Another thrust upwards. His thrusts are getting sloppier and rougher, but Greagor does it feel so good. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself, seeing you like that. I’d fuck you every single day–”

You moan, so lecherously. “Clive, fuck, I’m going to cum!”

Both hands grab at your hips, fingers digging and sinking into your skin so hard you know there’s going to be some bruising there in the morning. But you don’t care. All you care about is the man underneath you, and chasing after your own release. Clive makes you move faster onto him, a growl rumbling from his throat.

“Go on, let yourself go.”

You were already so overstimulated from the foreplay from before, and the way his cock brushes against your sweet spots and bashes against the entrance to your womb, you can’t help it. Your walls tighten around him, and you let yourself go.

Another growl rumbles from his throat, this time he pulls you right down onto him, hard. It doesn’t take him long to follow you into a blissful climax, his hot seed pouring into you and flooding your insides. It’s a lot, more than usual, to the point where it floods out from your entrance and onto him.

You collapse onto him, and he instantly takes you in his arms. Slowly, he flips your positions again, just so he can press himself deeper into you. Thank the Founder, because your legs were about to give out.

A moment passes, until he finally pulls himself out from you. His blown out pupils watch as his seed overflows from you, dripping onto the sheets beneath you. He shudders at the sight, and you can’t help but shudder as well.

You’re fading in and out of existence, but when you mostly come to, Clive has wiped you and him down, cleaning you up and gently pressing kisses against any marks he’s left on you. The sheets will unfortunately have to wait until tomorrow. Frankly, you could give less of a shit about that.

The outlaw slumps himself against you, pulling you into his arms. You both lay there in a comfortable silence, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you.” His voice trembles, a little embarrassed - that’s the Clive you know. “I’ll, uh, make sure Tarja prepares a herbal tea for you tomorrow, so that you don’t…” He trails off, hiding his face against your neck even more now.

You chuckle, feeling the hotness of his cheeks against your skin. “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” answers the male as he lifts his head up with a smile. “Much better. You always seem to know how to cure my worries and needs.”

“What can I say? I know my boss pretty well.”

He laughs, and your heart feels so warm, so in love with the man before you. Clive leans in, pressing his lips against yours to share a sweet, innocent kiss that contrasts the sinful act you both just partook in. And you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around him. You only stop when you feel something hard rub against your thigh, pulling back to see he was still pretty aroused. He’s a little sheepish at that, but he looks at you in want, in need - and love, as always.

“I don’t think one time is going to be enough for you, big guy.”

A sheepish laugh falls from his lips. “I don’t think so either. I might need a few more rounds. That is, if my faithful advisor is up to it.”

He’s challenging you, clearly. The smirk on his face tells you all you need to know. You smirk back, bucking your hips against his to accept.

“Only if you do most of the work.” You tell him, a leg going in to wrap itself around his waist. “You made me weak in my knees, Lord Rosfield. A gentleman should take some responsibility for his actions.”

His low chuckle reaches your ears, as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. It’s a tender action, one that definitely makes you feel weak in the knees - if you hadn’t already. It doesn’t take him long to reenter you, and you can’t hide the shudder of your slightly overstimulated body.

But you want everything he has to offer, the good and the bad of Clive Rosfield, and he’ll give it to you.

Because he wants everything you have to offer, the good and the bad of his faithful advisor, in return.

“As you wish, my love.”

He claims your lips. The night goes on.

“Somethin’ seems to be on your mind.”

Jill looks towards the source of the voice. Gav stands next to her, arms crossed as he meets her gaze with a raised brow. The Dominant says nothing to him, only slowly returning her gaze to where she once was looking. Gav’s line of sight follows hers, landing right on the scene that was unfolding before them.

“Clive, I’m trying to do work!”

Hideaway’s poor advisor was currently trying to shake an overgrown Cid the Outlaw off of them, who has currently draped himself over you. It had been a single day since you had returned from your trip and needless to say, Clive was acting as though you had been gone for years. Arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against yours.

“Nothing is stopping you from doing your work,” is all Clive remarks with, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Except for a fucking overgrown dog!”

Gav whistles at the sight before him. “Someone seems to be in a good mood.”

“Indeed,” nods Jill, her gaze never leaving the both of you. Right now you were trying to walk away, which resulted in you basically having to drag the second Eikon of fire around because he refused to let himself off of you. “But, I can’t help but wonder if this is worse than the mood he was in before.”

The scout shrugs his shoulders. “Our advisor has dealt with worse from him. And we don’t have to deal with him slobberin’ all over us, so I’d say a good mood is better than nothin’.”

The woman says nothing. She knows it’s going to be a few days before Clive will return to his normal self, if your theory about why he’s been moody all week rings true. Such things don’t end with a simple, pleasurable night. You’ll be fine, she knows that, so she’s not too worried that you won’t be able to handle Clive Rosfield.

It’s in your job description, after all.

( she’ll still pray to metia for you, at the very least, and hope you come out unscathed. )

#final fantasy xvi #ffxvi #clive rosfield x reader #clive x reader #clive rosfield #🌙.txt #🌙 seren's writings

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grif-hawaiian-rolls · 7 months ago

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Red VS Blue, but make it Guild Wars 2

ok so i'm going to try and make this au make sense if you look at it from either side without prior knowledge of the other but theyre both so entrenched in my brain im not sure how well it'll work if you get lost im sorry in advance- or you can just enjoy the group piece and ignore the insane rambles below the cut! fair warning: its a lot! my red team yapping showing up in full force!

Don't say I didn't warn you :3

Context:

GW2 is a fantasy setting MMORPG, set in the world of Tyria. There are 5 playable races with their own unique cultures and such. I'm using the wikis for the races bc im lazy- the names are links to the proper wiki, but i've VERY ROUGHLY summarized for ease-

ASURA: The smallest playable race, Asura are highly intelligent and have a cultural focus on Academia and Research- furthering the reach of their magi-tech, sometimes at the cost of morals. Asura tend to be characterized as cocky intellectuals, who know more than everyone else in the room at any given time and they know it- but they're going to have a solution to a problem before you've finished explaining it.

CHARR: Giant anthropomorphic cats, the Charr are a militaristic race with a culturally cynical look on the world and a stubborn streak to match, and a general distrust of magic due to some Prior Circumstances. Charr tend to be characterized as gruff, fuck-around-and-find-out types, due to the military culture, and have more focus on their squad (warband) over individual relations.

HUMAN: On the surface, pretty par for the course here, but humans aren't actually native to Tyria- not that this stops them from being a cultural and territorial powerhouse in the setting. There is a fair bit of tension between humans and charr, and humans and some of the non-playable races in the game. Humans tend to be characterized as stubborn, tenacious and resourceful in a Tyrian context.

NORN: visually speaking, Norn appear to be giant humans, native to Tyria. Culturally speaking, Norn value honor and nature in equal measure- you should make a Legend for yourself, but you need to respect the Spirits of the Wild. Typically, norn are characterized as loud and boisterous, but reliable in a fight and always down to celebrate an impressive victory and share a story.

SYLVARI: The youngest race in Tyria, having only existed for about 25 years or so at the start of the game, Sylvari are plantfolk who Awaken from their mutually shared Dream as grown adults. The Dream gives sylvari the knowledge they need to function right out the gate, although the actual extent of said knowledge varies slightly by individuals, and is tended to by The Pale Tree (or the Pale Mother/Mother Tree, as sylvari know her)- sylvari follow a set of tenants given to them in the Dream that encourage compassion, kindness, and a drive to do what must be done called a Wyld Hunt.

__--__

RvB is a Halo machinima set in an appropriately sci-fi setting that is, above all else, fucking ridiculous. The plot, when it manages to exists in a semi-coherent fashion, focuses almost entirely on a band of absolute asshole idiots who cheat death as a hobby, swear a lot, and generally just would be unpleasant people to know but it is incredibly entertaining to put them into situations so that sums up the general vibe of the show. RvB is slightly less relevant to this au as the characters are what I'm yoinking and theyre all getting explained in their gw2 contexts here, but the main point is: the show is silly, and everyone in it is some brand of annoying, rude, mean, stupid or any combination there of. Also? Probably traumatized by war, whether or not they realize it. __--__

BORING STUFF OUT OF THE WAY ITS CHARACTER TIME __--__

THE GULCH KREWE - An Asura research team focused on making self sustaining golems. Technically Vic is the krewe lead, but he never seems to show up at their lab situated in the middle of no where for.... safety reasons. The official, documented by the asuran governement Gulch krewe is really incredibly small, at four asura strong, counting Vic even though there is quite a bit of debate on whether he actually counts since he's never around, but they have a reputation for being the worst krewe to work with. Ever. Of all time. Between reports of "unsafe necromantic practices" and general "workplace threats and harrassment", the only people who stay in the Gulch krewe have no where else to go. The "rank" nickname theme started mostly as a joke, but once it was started it was basically impossible to stop.

"Captain" Bucch Flowers - Asuran Necromancer - Asura, typically, do not have last names. Bucch, is not known for being the typical sort of asura. Eccentric and regarded as "morally questionable" by previous krewes, Bucch is a friendly individual who finds other people fascinating, both in terms of their psychology and physiology. He always has a smile on his face and a warm, cheerful demeanor that some people have claimed to be "unsettling", but I mean, really, he's just being nice. Right?

"Sarge" REDACTED - Asuran Engineer - Sarge took to his nickname with a brand of enthusiasm that really was just a warning to the kind of person he is, going so far as to have his previous name removed or changed on all documents he could. Loud, brash and unapologetic in everything he does, Sarge is the main "threat" of the Gulch Krewe between his wild experimental inventions, with their tendency to either go rogue against their creator or just plain blow up, his complete and utter lack of patience, and his habit of gesturing with his loaded shotgun during a conversation. His volume never drops below LOUD, but he's a very.. unique brand of genius who excels at making things that really shouldn't be physically possible work.

"Doc" Dufresne - Asuran Mesmer - Doc is, by all counts, the odd one out of the official Gulch krewe. Meek and empathetic in nature, Doc tends to be the moral voice of the krewe- one that often gets ignored. He is still annoyed by his ridiculous nickname, even if it is nice to have the affirmation that he really is part of the krewe. He's not even really a doctor! He's not great with medical care or technology. Or fighting. Or much of anything, if he lets himself be a little too honest. But he's part of the krewe, for better or for worse, and if that just means he uses his magic to pull his krewmates away from whatever is trying to murder them this week, then so be it.

The UNOFFICIAL Gulch krewe is a bit more.. diverse. Technically, non-asura don't get listed as krewe on the paperwork. They're hired help, not technically part of the team that gets credited for the work done in the published papers. Generally, this is because most hired hands don't have that much to do with the actual invention or research process- they're just there to be damage control when things go wrong. However with the Gulch krewe... a lot of things tend to go wrong. Technically speaking, there is no reason for a krewe of four three to have separate research teams. There is barely a reason for bigger krewes to do it. However... Captain Flowers and Sarge rarely seem to work on the 'technical' level of anything, and all it took was one offhanded comment from Vic (over comm, no less! couldn't even cause problems in person) for the pair of them to escalate and devolve into a rivalry that would ruin Doc's life, and the lives of pretty much everyone else who inevitably get swept up into it as well.

RED TEAM: Sarge claimed RED as his team color well before the idea of having color-coordination even occurred to Captain Flowers. Sarge claims he hired only the best to staff Red Team, with one exception for canon fodder.

Richard "Dick" Simmons - Human Elementalist - Born and raised in the upper ranks of human nobility, Simmons is a bit of a fish out of water when he's not in the human capital of Divinity's Reach. Of course, being an anxious individual with poor social skills, he didn't really fit in there either. He's got enough of the "I'm rich, you know," attitude held over from his upbringing that combined with a desire for praise, awkward conversation skills and the urge to prove his worth through his own intelligence, makes for a really obnoxious, know-it-all kissass of a man. But he's really good with technology, given his magic tends to prefer the buzz of electricity so that counts for something. Usually. He's not that bad once you get past the defensive nature and whiny voice. Probably?

Dexter Grif - Norn Warrior - With a hard earned feeling of "fuck it, fuck that, fuck this, I'm going to bed" that he trained into himself, Dex would have been perfectly content to spend his entire life lazing around his home city, Lion's Arch, scamming tourists and generally just kind of doing his own lazy thing. Or, at least, that's what he tells himself, as he has to look for actual work on the docks. It sucks. So when some loud mouth asura rocks up, shouting something Dex didn't really listen to beyond being a job, and a supposedly low effort one? Sign him the fuck up. But when the job is evidently not all naps and bored asura-watching, Dexter Grif will make his complaints known. Just... maybe not in range of Sarge's shotgun.

Donut - Sylvari Mesmer - Freshly Awakened, bright eyed, curious and endlessly talkative, Donut (Grif swears that can't be his real name, right?) is the Red team's resident socialite, sharpshooter, grenadier, portal expert and color coordinator. If you need something done, Donut is your man, or he can find you your man. While some people find his chipper attitude and love of 'dressing up' his friends with illusions annoying, and his tendency to veer into innuendos a bit awkward, everyone agrees it's hard to genuinely dislike Donut as a person. Maybe it's a mesmer thing, maybe it's a sylvari thing, maybe it's just Donut being Donut, it's hard to say. Despite his impeccable aim and frankly impressive throwing arm, Donut tends to be a little oblivious to the things right in front of him, but he's trying his best so most people tend to let it slide.

BLUE TEAM: Captain Flowers accepted BLUE as his team's color in good humor, as he tends to accept most things. He was not nearly as intense on his "requirements" for his team as Sarge- truthfully, most of Blue team were picked because Captain Flowers thought they were interesting more than anything to do with their actual skills.

Kaikaina Grif - Norn Elementalist - Kai has been called a lot of things, and not all of them flattering. Her personal favorites include sexy, wild, bodacious and "absolutely insane". She's a diverse gal. When her brother left Lion's Arch to go work for some mysterious asura in the middle of no where, Kai swore she didn't care. That lasted for all of a week, before she decided Dex was clearly up to something else and the asura job was a cover. Upon hunting her brother down and discovering, no really, it's literally what he said it was, she was disappointed. At least, until Captain Flowers offered her a position on Blue team. Being paid to stand around, look pretty, and bother her brother? Fuck. Yes.

Lavernius Tucker - Human Guardian - Growing up an orphan in Divinity's Reach makes a guy either really cruel or really clever. Tucker's never been the cruel type, so he went for clever instead. Though that quickly turned around to bite him in the ass, because being clever, and maybe a little bit of a smartass, means people notice you, and being noticed does not go well for him. Between at least one cult insisting he was some kind of savior from a forgotten bloodline, a jerk or three who didn't like Tucker outsmarting them or standing up for the people they were bullying, and whatever the hell is going on with his kid (courtesy of aforementioned cult), Tucker has more than had his fill of being noticed for being clever thank you very much. He just wants to find a quiet place to lay low and figure out this whole being a dad to a dragon thing. He's done being a hero and honestly he's done being helpful. Tucker's here to get paid, maybe get laid, and not get attached to anyone else that might screw him (or his kid) over.

Junior - Saltspray Dragon - Sort of a package deal with his dad, Junior is still figuring out the quirks and details of being a dragon in a society where 'dragon' is usually associated with the end of times, even for a "lesser" dragon like him. Fortunately, they're pretty solidly hidden in the middle of nowhere, so the only people around are friends of his dad's. Sort of. Junior is shy, generally, and tries to be careful with his size and his magic, but he's still a hatchling and sometimes it's real easy to get carried away when he's excited. Good news though! The Gulch krewe are well versed in shit breaking every other day, so no one gets too mad if something gets knocked off the shelf by his wings.

Church - Sylvari Thief - Some sylvari chose to cut themselves off from the Dream, in an effort to obtain either a sense of freedom from expectations, spite, or just a general desire for peace, quiet and solitude. While Church can certainly guess at his own, personal, reasons for becoming one of the Soundless, he sure as hell doesn't remember making the decision. Or much of anything, really, before about a week before he got hired onto Blue team. Just the name Church, which he can only assume is his name. He tells himself, amongst his internal tirades about his woes and his miseries, that Flowers hired him because he's smart and clearly the asura could see that. Not pity or anything like that. Still, it would be nice to actually remember literally anything. But Church doesn't complain about that- he's got more than enough things to bitch about from being part of the Blue team to distract his ego, his temper and his generally whiny attitude towards life in general. Who needs a past when you're surrounded by idiots?

Michael J Caboose - Norn Ranger- Never without his trusty arctodus companion, Freckles, Caboose is a joyful wall of muscle and hugs that frequently forgets that most people cannot, in fact, support the weight of him and his wolf-bear. Young and with no legend to speak of, Caboose is on a journey of his own making, to find friends that are just... so cool, everyone is going to want to hear stories about them! He just has the very very tricky job of remembering those stories. But hey, what are friends for, if not to help him when he forget a detail or twelve? And honestly, he thinks he found a GREAT group of friends here on Blue team. Sure they can be a little bit mean, but, Caboose has the heart of a skald according to the nice old ladies back home in Hoelbrak, and his heart knows when there's neat things

THE GOLEMS: The Gulch Krewe, official and unofficial, developed two more-or-less completely self-sustaining golems after splitting into their respective teams. They're not perfect, by any means, but they're certainly impressive to behold. Especially given that they both seem to be... well, people. That.. wasn't intentional.

Lopez - "Human" Engineer - Inspired by the dolls made by Tixx in the Infinirarium, Sarge chose to build a golem that looks almost human. His official logic claims that the more flexible build and increased intelligence allows for Lopez (Officially: L-0-PEZ - Lab-OH-Personalized Engineering Zoner. Sarge swears it makes sense. Red team is pretty sure he just made it up because he liked the name Lopez) to handle his own maintenance and upkeep, with improved head to body communication and modular independencies. The side effect of Lopez's "self repairing" abilities (read: his ability to take himself apart to put himself back together) is the fact that his body have very distinct seams, and he's prone to falling apart at them. His head coming off his neck is the worst and most common offender of this problem. Like most of Sarge's intelligent creations, Lopez has a sour attitude and very little respect for his creator. If you asked him, the only reason he sticks around is because it's easier to get his hands on the tools he needs to fix himself. That and no one else speaks Orrian since the continent and kingdom sank over 250 years ago. Well, no one besides Sheila.

Sheila - "Charr" Necromancer - Captain Flowers took a slightly more.. macabre approach to his golem creation. Made from the ethically and responsibly sourced bones of an anonymous charr donor (Captain Flowers's words), Sheila is a feat of magi-tech engineering and necromancy. Due to her... organic internal base, Sheila is much sturdier than your average golem for her size, and the necrotic magic that keeps her together and functioning needs almost no supervision, as it naturally drains minute fractions of life force from things around her, like non-sentient plants and insects. Though there are some... quirks, to be certain, but that's to be expected with such experimental magic! The days where she almost seems like a different person are most likely just her getting used to a shift in the magic, that's all. Nothing to worry about. Usually though, on her good days, Sheila is calm and patient, with a friendly attitude she seemed to pick up from Flowers, although somehow she's a bit better at reading a room than he is. She tends to be the most responsible and level head in the lab, which is fortunate considering she's also the biggest one there, excluding Freckles.

__--__

THE LANCER WARBAND: A tight knit charr warband, working outside of the charr legions mostly for decent pay and interesting jobs, the Lancer warband are skilled fighters, excellent hunters and all around impressive soldiers. Their one weakness? Their inability to get anything done without either a fight or fair bit of chatter (and the occasional argument leading to the fights) first. But once they've settled on an objective, they're nigh unstoppable.

York - Charr Engineer - By far the most laid back and easy going of the Lancer warband, York is the resident gunsmith, philosopher, mechanic and lockpick. If it requires nimble fingers (or claws, rather), York's got it covered. While he tends to be the chattiest of the bunch and that makes him seem distractable, York is often laser focused on his task- he just doesn't feel the need to act like he's focused. He's curious and honest in nature, and is always quick to come up with a joke to lighten a heavy mood.

Maine - Charr Warrior - Silent and deadly are the words most commonly used to describe Maine- not that they would ever come from him. Massive even by charr standards, Maine is brutal and efficient in a fight. By the time an enemy has seen his white fur, they're already screwed. Outside of combat, when it's just the warband, Maine still isn't a talkative sort of guy. He prefers to stand back and let the rest of them talk for him, with a few exceptions.

Washington - Charr 'Thief' (unrealized revenant) - Originally the 'cub' and rookie of the Lancer warband, Wash has earned his stripes as it were for his cunning adaptability on the field and his almost ridiculous good luck when it comes to survival. While he tries to be kind and compassionate when he can, he's more on the pragmatic side than he used to be, and he can't always balance being nice with being realistic. Still, Wash has a sarcastic streak big enough to give York a run for his money, and enough sharp wit and sharper knives to keep just about anyone else on their toes.

Texas - Charr Warrior - A bit of a badass, Tex is the Lancer warband legionnaire and easily the best fighter of them all. She's harsh, even to her own warband, but she cares more than she likes to let on. However, her temper tends to get the best of her, and she frequently works alone to blow off steam. The last time she left... she didn't come back.

South - Charr Necromancer - One of the twins, South is aggressive, impatient and vicious just as much as she is efficient with her magic. She's a survivor and despite her bitchy attitude and general disregard for the rest of her warband, she gets shit done. Maybe a little meaner about it than she needs to be but hey, it's done right? Who cares if a little more blood was spilled or if a few more punches were thrown than were strictly necessary.

North - Charr Guardian - The other twin, North couldn’t be more different from his sister. He’s gentle, understanding and tries to be a shoulder to lean on for anyone who needs it, not just their bandmates. Granted, sometimes this does get him punched, but his kind nature doesn’t stop him from giving as good as he gets. He’s a skilled marksman with a longbow, and his calm nature helps him keep a level head in a fight- useful, when you specialize in placing traps.

'Honorary' warband: When their Legionnaire, Tex, mysteriously vanishes, the Lancer warband is left fumbling in the wake. Fortunately, they have friends they can trust to help them get their bearings.

Carolina - Human 'Warrior' (unrealized Revenant) - not the step dad but the dad who stepped up Carolina has been a fighter and a soldier her whole life, or very damn near it. While not raised to quite the same degree of military as the average charr, her mother ran a tight ship of their home and after her passing, her father ran it even tighter. Her friendship with the Lancer warband started with a night of mildly drunken chaos with York, after which she kept in close contact with the charr. Intense in every factor, loyal, and more than a little competitive, Carolina thrives in combat situations that demand the most of her, which makes her a fast friend for the rowdy warband. Without Tex, the Lancer warband needed a leader, and Carolina stepped into the role of unofficial legionnaire as easily as donning her helmet. While comparisons between herself and Texas make her uneasy, she does admit she likes the feeling of being 'Boss' with the charr.

Reggi "Wyoming" - Asuran Mesmer - Reggi is a bit of an odd ball and a loner before he begins spending time with the Lancer warband. He enjoys a good pun and a bad knock-knock joke, but his disinterest in most scientific endeavors left him with little opportunities within asura society. So he left, took his humor and not much else with him, and has been something of a drifter ever since, more interested in taking care of himself above all else. While the Lancer warband may groan and scoff at him from time to time, they do work well with him, and even a selfish bastard like him needs back up from time to time.

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cryptids · 4 months ago

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I was just looking through those recently posted tf:one storyboards (crying sobbing throwing up about the megop rn) But I just have to say I do kind of wish they had kept this dialogue in the final movie, bc I've seen SO many people misunderstanding what Orion was trying to say in the scene where he's trying to stop D-16/Megatron from killing Sentinel, and I think this version phrases it better??

Like.... I can't even tell you how many people I've seen say that Orion was trying to protect Sentinel/sacrificing his life for Sentinel's, and then go on to accuse him of being everything from a "liberal" to a fascist apologist lmfao (🤡)

When to me it was clear he hated Sentinel and didn't give a fuck about whether this man lived or died, his concern was with trying to prevent his best friend and person he loves most in the world from committing a murder and going down a path that would turn him into the same kind of dictator.

imo, Orion was trying to say that they'd already won and killing Sentinel in this manner (a public execution without a trial) would set a harmful precedent for a new society. Which is true, what they'd be creating if they took Megatron's approach would be a society where order was maintained through fear and subjugation, and without any kind of fair justice system.

Killing Sentinel didn't achieve anything that would actually help anyone, bc like I already mentioned, they'd already won by then. They liberated the oppressed population and took Sentinel's power away, he no longer posed any threat. Megatron’s only motivation was revenge and he was making decisions out of anger and grief rather than thinking about what was best for everyone. He took the decision of what to do with Sentinel away from the people by taking it into his own hands without letting them have an opinion.

(Before anyone comes at me, I know the desire for revenge is understandable and justified, which is why we're able to empathise with him so much. But that doesn't mean it's always the right choice in every circumstance, especially for someone stepping into a position of power)

I think the line that really got people mixed up was Orion saying "don't be like Sentinel", bc people are so used to the "killing the villain makes you as bad as the villain" sentiment in every movie ever that they automatically assumed this movie was saying the same thing. But when you stop to take the context into consideration it would make a lot more sense if he meant "don't be the same kind of leader as Sentinel", which IS what he meant, it's just worded badly.

And it's the truth too?? we all know Megatron will become a genocidal dictator who will carry out so much of the same kind of oppression he originally fought against, that's like his whole tragedy as a villain. There's so many little ways tf:one shows us this happening at the end (like him branding the decepticons the way he was branded for example).

But anyway......... as much as I wish media didnt have to spoonfeed audiences so much, I think if Orion's argument had been spelled out a bit more unambiguously like this it might have spared me having to see so many bad takes online lmao 😭

Now that I'm done rambling about all of that please look at this wattpad boyfriend chest touch moment

#🐊#under a readmore bc its super long rambling snbdnsds #(tf:one related)#transformers #megop

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starillusion13 · 7 months ago

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FRIENDS!? Chapter 22

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳

Series ML

Pairing: poly!ateez × f!reader (An ATEEZ Office AU)

Genre: Mature, Angst, Yandere

Warning: mention of memories (nothing much just go with the flow).

W.C: 3.4k Network: @k-vanity

[Reblogs and Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you for reading and have a nice day ahead. Please always take care of yourself everyone.]

Hello, Can we be friends please?

It was a late Saturday afternoon when Hongjoong, with that familiar mischievous grin, told you to get dressed. "Wear something nice," he said, his voice full of playful mystery, making your heart skip a beat. You stood in his cabin for a moment, unsure whether to press him for more details, but the glint in his eyes stopped you. He loved surprises, and his excitement was contagious. The twinkle in his eyes as he watched you try to guess what he had planned made it clear that today would be something special.

You hurried to your floor, meeting Seonghwa and Mingi in your way to the elevator.

"Where is the pretty lady hurrying to?" Mingi playfully raised a brow at you. Three of you exchanged smiles and seeing no one was around, you sighed.

"Joong wants me to get dressed nicely and he told me to hurry up. I don't know what's the reason." You said and looked expectantly at them, if they know something.

Mingi nodded his head in understanding but something clicked inside Seonghwa's mind when he smirked and patted your head.

"Then do accordingly. He doesn't want you to be late."

You narrowed your eyes at him, "do you know why is this demand suddenly?"

He raised his hands in defense, "of course not. Neither Mingi."

Mingi nodded his head in agreement, "yeah. How will we know? Also, we are getting late. Let's go, Hwa."

Ignoring their laugh when you hurried inside the elevator k, you waited for your floor to arrive.

rummaging through your closet, finally settling on a soft, flowy dress. As you stood in front of the mirror, you tried to keep your imagination in check. You have called Star earlier and she guided you how to get ready pretty and here all done with her telling you that he might be taking you on a date.

Where could he be taking me? A romantic dinner? A gallery? A stroll in the park? His surprises always left you guessing.

Once you were ready, Hongjoong drove through the bustling city streets, and you could feel the anticipation building. Every time you tried to sneak a peek at the route or ask another question, he'd just smirk and shake his head. The buildings blurred by as it moved deeper into the city center, past familiar landmarks and busy intersections, until you pulled up in front of one of the most luxurious shopping malls you've ever seen.

The towering glass facade of the mall shimmered in the evening light, reflecting the soft glow of the setting sun. Marble columns framed the grand entrance, and inside, you could see high-end boutiques, each one radiating wealth and exclusivity. Your eyes widened as you stepped out of the car, your gaze wandering over the elegant architecture and the sleek, polished displays of designer brands in the windows. The kind of stores you had only admired from afar but never dared to step inside.

"Wait," you said, laughing a little nervously as you turned to him. "Are we... shopping?"

Hongjoong's grin widened as he slipped his hand into yours, pulling you gently toward the entrance. "Something like that," he said, his tone teasing but full of affection. You followed him, still confused but intrigued. The cool air of the mall greeted you as the two walked in, the scent of expensive perfumes and polished leather filling the space. Everywhere you looked, there were glittering displays of luxury — from designer handbags and dresses to elegant jewelry sparkling under the lights.

You walked slowly, hand in hand, passing by brands you had only ever seen on billboards or in glossy magazines. Dior, Chanel, Louis Vuitton — names that spoke of an unattainable world, a world that felt foreign to me. You glanced at the price tags as you passed, your stomach flipping when you realized how wildly out of reach everything was. Even the simplest pieces were priced higher than anything you could imagine spending.

Eventually, he led you into a Chanel boutique, the interior sleek and minimal, designed to highlight the elegance of the products. You felt a mix of excitement and unease as you wandered through the store. Everything was beautiful, but the price tags — they were astronomical. You hesitated in front of a shelf, your fingers gently brushing the leather of a bag you've seen in fashion editorials, one you'd admired but never dreamed of owning. It was soft, buttery under your touch, and you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to carry something so luxurious.

But then reality hit, and you quickly placed it back on the shelf, laughing softly at yourself. "I don't think this is really my scene," you said, trying to hide the discomfort in your voice. "It's all a bit... much."

Hongjoong turned to you, his expression suddenly serious but gentle, his eyes full of that unwavering affection. He stepped closer, his fingers brushing yours as he softly spoke. "You don't have to worry about the price today," he said firmly, his voice both kind and insistent. "Whatever you like, it's yours. I'll take care of everything."

You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. "What? No, no, that's too much," you stammered, feeling a flush creep up your neck. "I can't let you spend this kind of money on me. It's crazy—"

But before you could continue, he gently pressed a finger to your lips, his touch soft but stopping me mid-sentence. "Shh," he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours. "You deserve this. I brought you here because I want to spoil you. I want you to have whatever you want, no matter the price. Let me do this for you."

Your heart raced at his words. His gaze was so tender, so full of love and certainty, that for a moment, you didn't know how to respond. He wasn't just offering to buy you something; he was offering to make you feel like you're worth the luxury, worth the indulgence. And in that moment, the overwhelming kindness of it all nearly brought tears to my eyes.

You wanted to scream and jump in excitement but to keep your cool, you cleared throat before facing him.

"But... it's so much," you whispered, still trying to process the generosity behind his gesture.

Hongjoong smiled, that soft, knowing smile, and gently took your hands in his. "It's not about the money. It's about making you happy. I want to see you smile, to watch you light up when you find something you love. That's what matters to me."

There was a long pause as you let his words sink in. Your heart felt full, and you realized that this wasn't just about the things he wanted to buy you. It was about what they represented — the way he saw you, the way he wanted to make you feel cherished, even if you sometimes found it hard to accept.

Finally, you nodded, a shy smile breaking through. "Okay," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "If you're sure..."

"I'm more than sure," Hongjoong said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned. He gave your hand a squeeze. "Now come on, let's find something you love."

With his encouragement, you allowed yourself to let go of the hesitation and enjoy the experience. moving from store to store, and with every step, you felt a little lighter, a little more comfortable.

In Dior, you tried on a stunning dress — sleek, elegant, with a classic cut that made you feel like you had stepped straight out of a Hollywood movie. As you stepped out of the dressing room, his eyes lit up, and you could see the admiration in his gaze.

Yes. He wanted to see you all smiley and shining in elegance and luxury like this. He always wanted you like this. The past should not haunt you anymore, he will do everything possible to make you experience that you deserve and haven't.

"You look incredible," Hongjoong said, his voice soft but full of awe. You blushed under his intense gaze, feeling like the most beautiful woman in the world.

you picked out a few other pieces, each one making you feel a little more confident, a little more willing to embrace the luxury of the day. A pair of delicate heels that fit like a glove, a simple but exquisite gold necklace that caught the light just right, and a soft leather bag that you had been dreaming about for years. Each time you hesitated, glancing nervously at the price tag, he would smile and remind you that today was about more than money — it was about joy.

and his love for you.

Hours later, you found ourselves at a cozy little café tucked into the corner of the mall, surrounded by shopping bags filled with beautiful things you never imagined you would own. The café was quiet, the gentle hum of conversations in the background blending with the clinking of cups and silverware. Outside, the sky had begun to turn a soft shade of pink and gold, the last light of the day filtering through the large windows and casting a warm glow across the table.

you took a sip of my iced latte, glancing over at him as he leaned back in his chair, watching you with that same, patient smile. you felt a mix of gratitude, disbelief, and something deeper, something more intense that had been building all day.

"You really didn't have to do all this," you said softly, my fingers tracing the rim of the cup as you looked down, overwhelmed by everything he'd done. "I don't even know how to thank you."

He leaned forward, reaching across the table to take your hand in his, his touch warm and grounding. "You don't need to thank me," he said, his voice gentle but full of emotion. "I did it because I wanted to. Because you mean the world to me. I just wanted to make you feel special — the way you make me feel every day."

and to say sorry.

His words hit you like a wave, and you felt your heart swell in your chest. There was a lump forming in your throat, the kind that comes when you're so overwhelmed with emotion that you can barely speak. you looked into his eyes, and in that moment, you knew. you knew that what you felt for him was something deeper than anything you had ever experienced.

"I... I love you, Joong" you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. They hung in the air, raw, real, and honest.

Hongjoong's heart stopped for a moment. you confessed to him. he wanted to hear this from you and he waited for so long and finally you said it. he can't express just how over the moon he is.

For him, everything went quiet. The world around him seemed to fade, and all you could see was him, his eyes softening, his smile widening, like he had been waiting for those words. He stood up slowly, coming around to your side of the table. Kneeling beside you, he took your hand in both of his, his thumb gently brushing the back of your hand as he looked up at you with that same, unwavering gaze.

"I love you too,y/n" he said, his voice steady, filled with so much warmth and certainty that it felt like your heart might burst. "I've loved you for a long time. And I'm so glad I finally get to tell you it this way."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they weren't sad tears. They were the kind of tears that come when something beautiful happens, something that you've been waiting for without even realizing it. He leaned in, his lips brushing gently against your forehead, and then, as you closed your eyes, he kissed you softly on the lips.

In that kiss, you felt everything — the love, the gratitude, the sense of belonging that had always been there, just waiting to be spoken out loud. It was as if the entire world had been leading up to this moment, this quiet confession in the corner of a luxury mall café, surrounded by the fading light of the day and the glow of your happiness.

When you finally pulled away, he stayed close, resting his forehead against yours, his hands still holding yours tightly. "Thank you," you whispered, voice thick with emotion. "For everything. For making me feel like... like I'm enough."

no, y/n...thanks to you for staying with me...atleast as a friend for this long.

He smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek. "You've always been enough," he said softly. "You're more than enough."

And in that moment, surrounded by shopping bags, the soft murmur of the café, and the fading glow of the evening, you knew that this was more than just a surprise date. It was the beginning of something real, something deep and lasting — a love that was yours, and yours alone.

>>>><<<<

when you thought, the days are getting better. you didn't thought that you would be enjoying a day with bright smile with Yeosang in the rooftop of the building.

It was a warm late summer evening, one of those nights where the sky melts into shades of lavender and peach, the city skyline bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Yeosang had been acting strange all day—quiet, contemplative, but with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. He told you he had something special planned, but no matter how much you probed, he wouldn't give you a clue. you could feel a knot of curiosity and anticipation twisting in your stomach as you climbed the stairs to the rooftop of his apartment building.

he had asked others not to give you any work for the day so that you could dress up all pretty in a skirt and a plain top under the surveillance of Star.

"Where are we going?" you asked for what felt like the hundredth time, your voice half-laughing, half-impatient.

"You'll see," he replied, his voice soft but filled with emotion. He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. you could feel the slight tremor in his grip, which only heightened your curiosity.

As you reached the top of the stairs, Yeosang stopped in front of the door to the rooftop, turning to face you with a small, nervous smile. He let out a breath and said, "Close your eyes." His voice was tender, yet there was an underlying tension, as if this moment meant everything.

you raised an eyebrow but complied, closing your eyes and trusting him to guide you. He led you carefully up the last few steps, his hands gentle but sure as he positioned you in place. your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of excitement and nerves.

What was he up to?

"Okay," he whispered close to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Open them."

When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by a sight that stole your breath. The rooftop had been transformed into an intimate, magical world, like something out of a dream. Fairy lights were strung in a canopy overhead, casting a soft, golden glow over the entire space. Lanterns of all shapes and sizes lined the perimeter, flickering gently in the evening breeze. The ground was scattered with rose petals, and there were candles—hundreds of them—glimmering in every corner, their warm flames dancing in the twilight.

In the center of it all was a small table set for two, draped in a white linen tablecloth. A delicate bouquet of your favorite flowers, lilies and roses, sat in the middle, their fragrance gently carried by the breeze. On the table, perfectly arranged, were all your favorite dishes—an assortment of comfort foods that made your heart swell with affection. To one side, a vintage record player played one of your favorite songs softly in the background, the gentle melody weaving through the night air.

you stood there, stunned, unable to move or speak. your heart was pounding in your chest, overwhelmed by the sheer thoughtfulness and beauty of it all. The lights, the flowers, the music—it was perfect, almost too perfect to believe.

"You... you did all of this?" you finally managed to whisper, your voice shaky with emotion. I turned to face him, and the look in his eyes—so tender, so full of love—made your breath catch in your throat.

Yeosang nodded, his lips curving into a soft smile, but there was a flicker of nervousness behind it. "I did," he said, stepping closer to you. "I wanted to do something special for you. Something that shows you how much you mean to me."

you smiled to yourself. he is still guilty for what he said that day.

you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back, not wanting to cry just yet. you reached out, taking his hand, which felt warm and steady in yours. "It's beautiful," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft music. "I can't believe you did all this... for me."

He smiled, but you could sense something deeper, something unspoken behind his eyes. He pulled you toward the small table, guiding you to sit. As you lowered yourself into the chair, he sat across from you, his hands resting on the table, his fingers fidgeting slightly. It was as if he was building up to something, something important.

For a while, you both sat there, enjoying the food, talking softly, but you could feel the weight of something unsaid hanging in the air between you two. The evening was beautiful—perfect, even—but there was a tension that you couldn't quite place. Yeosang kept looking at you, his gaze lingering, like he was trying to work up the courage to say what was on his mind.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he let out a slow breath and reached across the table to take your hand. His grip was firm but gentle, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. "There's something I need to tell you," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes met yours, and you could see the raw emotion there—the vulnerability, the fear, the love.

your heart skipped a beat. "What is it?" you asked softly, searching his face.

Yeosang hesitated for a moment, his fingers tightening around yours as if he was afraid to let go. Then he spoke, his voice trembling slightly. "I've been thinking a lot about this... about everything I told you. And I realized that I need to apologize."

you blinked, confused. "Apologize? For what?"

"For the past," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "For all the times I hurt you. I didn't always handle things the way I should have. I let my fears get in the way, and I hurt you when I should have been honest with you and knew it was not your fault. I made mistakes—mistakes that I've been carrying with me, and I can't move forward without telling you how sorry I am."

His words hit you like a wave, and suddenly, the memories of your past—both the good and the blurred—came rushing back. There had been moments of pain, moments where you didn't know how to communicate, moments where you both felt lost. But standing here now, hearing him admit it, made all those moments feel distant, like they were being healed in real-time.

"I should have told you sooner," Yeosang continued, his voice breaking slightly. "I should have been better at showing you how much I care, instead of letting my own insecurities get in the way. I was scared of losing you, scared of not being good enough for you, and sometimes... I took it out on you. And for that, I'm so, so sorry."

Tears welled up in my eyes, but you didn't try to stop them this time. His words were so honest, so raw, and they struck a chord deep within you. you could see how much this apology meant to him, how hard it was for him to admit his mistakes. But at the same time, you could feel the weight lifting between you both, the unspoken pain of the past finally being released.

"You don't have to apologize," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "We must have made mistakes. But I've never stopped loving you. I will never stop. I promise."

you should hate me, y/n.

Yeosang let out a shaky breath, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I love you," he said, his voice filled with so much emotion that it made your heart ache. "I've loved you for so long, and I was too scared to admit it. But I can't keep it inside anymore. You're the most important person in my life, and I need you to know that. I love you, and I'm ready to do whatever it takes to show you that."

Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you let out a small, breathless laugh, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. you stood up from the table, and he did the same, meeting you halfway as you threw your arms around him. He held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go.

"I love you too," I whispered into his chest, your voice trembling with emotion. "I've always loved you."

Yeosang pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands cupping your face as he brushed away your tears with his thumbs. "You don't know how much that means to me," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise, I'll spend every day showing you how much I love you, how much you mean to me. I never want to hurt you again."

you smiled through your tears, your heart swelling with love for him. "You already have," you whispered.

Yeosang leaned in slowly, his forehead resting against yours as your breaths mingled in the cool evening air. And then, with the soft glow of the fairy lights around you both and the music playing quietly in the background, he kissed you—gently, tenderly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

In that moment, all the pain of the past melted away. All that mattered was him and you—here, now, in this perfect, intimate space he had created. It felt like a new beginning, a fresh start filled with love and hope.

As you stood there on the rooftop, wrapped in each other's arms, surrounded by the soft glow of the candles and the twinkling lights, you knew that this was the love you had both been waiting for—the kind of love that was real, deep, and unshakable.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly at peace.

which is soon to be shattered in pieces....

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dinthoqaf · 5 months ago

Note

Tell us about your guild? IC story/relations and members/roles as well as OOC information. Are they active? Recruiting?

Probably my favorite thing to talk about! Before I go on to explain anything about the guild, I do wanna say that I truly am blessed as the GM of the Sanctum. I was blessed in our first run-through up till we needed to take our hiatus, I was lucky as a GM when I opened up my Goblin Guild for a few years on @frostahesmegabite and I'm just as lucky with reopening it with a completely different crew. I've been blessed with great writers and even better people and it's only reinforced my opinion that coming back to Villian-based RP was a good idea. Now that I'm done fluffin' my folks (lol), I can answer your stuff for ya! Structure/Roles: The Sanctum of the Forbidden isn't an 'Open for everyone' type of guild. I'm picky on who we recruit, who we bring in character-wise, and how we go about things and that's for a large variety of reasons. The primary reasons are that the concepts of playing a villain tend to require an advanced understanding of story writing, and being able to work with the community you're both in and surrounded by (ie the guild and the public RP population). Structurally we go from New Bloods (New Members) to one of three groups, those being The Onslaught (Our Militant wing), The Shades (Think Rogues, Hunters, Engineers, Specialists essentially.), and Mystics (Individuals who excel at Magical Arts and/or Research). Most members never go beyond this as the next rank is the Inner Sanctum. This belongs to our Officer Core and there's 1 Officer per branch (Once we grow larger if needed, a new rank between that 3 and Inner Sanctum will be created for Sub-Officers to help officers work with their associated branches.) and then you have Dinthoqaf at the top. These roles do not dictate what events you can/can't do or anything, it's merely what your character would prefer to do work-wise, and if your character wants none of them? Then we'll go with what works best as we emphasize personal RP as much as possible over forcing a square peg into a round hole. (I should also add, we're neutral, so Alliance or Horde toons are welcome!) All in all, it's a pretty simple system. The guild operates OOC a bit more loosely however while I do make decisions on things that directly dictate the direction of the guild (final approvals like most GMs), I try to defer to the Inner Sanctum (Officers) in most other matters. Discussing issues, guild reforms on rules if needed, disciplinary actions on what's suitable, and things of that nature. When decisions are made, we go over them with everyone. At this point, we invite everyone in the guild (New Bloods too, even a brand new one.) to offer opinions and insight on the decision and to offer counters on whether they feel something is too strict and things along that nature. No one in the Sanctum is above reproach, especially myself and none of the officers are either. If they mess up, if they did something poorly, I want to know so it can be corrected and fixed. If -I- do something wrong, I cannot begin to fix anything if I don't know about it and I try to make sure all of my members know that they can discuss anything with me, even my failings, without the worry of reprisal. (And I know, it's easy to -say- that, but I try to make sure my actions speak louder than my words in this aspect whenever possible. Best example I have is just a couple weeks ago I made a small poll that offered complete anonymity on my performance and critiques on how people thought the guild was functioning and I've made it a point to adhere to that. No email collections made sure to keep reiterating no specific examples that would out someone, etc.) But I digress cause this is probably already immeasurably longer than you wanted! (Sorry! lol)

Recruiting/Recruitment? Yes, we're always recruiting as our most common method is through referrals/word of mouth. I do have a few discord ads floating around, but I don't like recruiting on the wow forums and I refuse to recruit through the wow public chat channels in-game (Trade, LFG, etc.). You will also catch us occasionally supporting WRA's in-game Guild Faire (Horde side currently till I can be bothered to make an Alliance toon to level and represent us with lol) to support server growth/rp! If you ever see any Sanctum members online and you have questions, give us a poke! Either we'll answer ya or if it's a non-officer, they'll poke/lead you to one of us for ya! :D Activity! Right now the Sanctum is going a bit slow. It's the holiday season. Most of our members have families (Kids, spouses, SO's, etc.) and hold full-time jobs and as some folks know, companies love Overtime this time of year but don't let that dissuade you. Some just have extended travel plans. We're expected to hit full speed on everything again as schedules return to normal in early to mid-January! Story Line? The Sanctum has its overall storyline, which is currently a 'holy war' between Dinthoqaf and his brother, Ammaelin, who absolutely hate one another. Dinthoqaf is making efforts to become a God (It'll never happen, promise. This story has been smoldering for 12 years now and Din will never get what he wants cause, come on.) and his brother stands directly opposed to letting it happen. Not because Din's a 'bad guy' (which he is tbf) but because his brother is just as much an asshole as Din is and believes that Din needs to be put down for the betterment of his family's history and future (That and the fact he's been wounded/humiliated by Din several times has nothing to do with it *wink wink*. Belf Paladin Pride, amirite?). The Sanctum is a core group of individuals who support and/or have belief in Din becoming what he aims to be in the desire that once he becomes this God, he'll cleanse Azeroth of its petty factional squabbles and make it a place where people such as himself and those who follow him will no longer be outcasts or shamed/hated by society simply for being who/what they are. (Essentially, he feels the Horde/Alliance are complicit in their powers and trample on people like he used to be and who he recruits and he is a power monger intent on ripping it all down.) We also have another big bad playing the bigger scene too on this war/rivalry, but, spoilers~.

People tend to join Dinthoqaf primarily because they hate the factions, because they're outcasts and need someone to help them survive, or they just don't know where to go anymore in life. Whatever the reason is, Dinthoqaf takes all willing to serve and aid his cause and becomes something of a father figure to all those who need it.

While this is our 'general' guild storyline, I keep the story relatively simple primarily because I emphasize and encourage personal storylines. Guild story is great, but you know what's more satisfying? Seeing your character -grow-. I'm a storyline whore like that. Dinthoqaf aims to become a god, yes, but I try to play him as a Support Role as often as possible. I want to help -you- build the stories you want to build, to help your character hit the next benchmark you want them to build. As much as I like to lead, I obtain my satisfaction as GM through being a tool to help you get what you need out of your RP. If you read all the way to this, you have no idea how much I appreciate you sticking it out. I have a lot to say but that's because of how proud I am of the community we've built. <3

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taekookpassion · 1 month ago

Text

My Horny Boyfriend - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 -- From Sweat to Syllabus

Hai loves... let's continue

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The afternoon sun was merciless, beating down on the cracked sidewalks as Jungkook's battered motorcycle rumbled down the street. Taehyung clung to his back, thighs snug around Jungkook's hips, helmet slightly crooked because of the hickey blooming beneath his ear.

"I swear," Jungkook yelled over the engine....

"if you try to flirt with our marketing professor again—"

"I wasn't flirting!" Taehyung shouted back, grinning like the devil. "I was appreciating the man's good taste in Italian loafers."

Jungkook growled low, twisting the throttle harder. "You keep appreciating people like that and I'm showing up to class in just my towel. See how you like it."

"You'd get arrested," Taehyung laughed. "But yeah, I would like it."

They skidded to a stop in front of their college gates, the campus bustling with students rushing back from lunch, textbooks tucked under arms, iced coffees in hand. Jungkook yanked his helmet off, sweat plastering his hair down, eyes scanning the crowd with practiced caution. Protective, possessive—always.

Taehyung stepped off the bike, stretching languidly like a bored cat, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal the bite mark Jungkook had left on his hip earlier.

"Oh great," Jungkook muttered. "You're glowing. Now everyone's gonna know I got wrecked before finance class."

"You did wreck me," Taehyung purred, voice barely audible. "And I'm still walking funny, thanks to you."

Jungkook swore under his breath, grabbed his backpack, and threw an arm around Taehyung's shoulders like a warning flag to the world: Mine. Touch him and die.

They entered the main building, the hum of conversation and air conditioning welcoming them into the dull gray walls of academia. A few girls near the notice board whispered and giggled.

"Isn't that the guy from the fight last week?"

"The one who broke a dude's nose for calling his boyfriend a slur?"

"Yeah. Hot. Terrifying. I'd still let him rail me."

Jungkook pretended not to hear.

Taehyung didn't.

He turned, winked at them, and whispered under his breath, "You wouldn't survive a minute."

Jungkook's smirk returned instantly, dangerous and smug.

They slid into their lecture hall, choosing the farthest corner near the windows. Most students gave them a wide berth. Whether it was Jungkook's tattoos peeking out from under his uniform shirt, or the fact that he once snapped a chair leg mid-rant, nobody wanted to mess with the boy who looked like he could crush your skull with one hand—and kiss his boyfriend breathless with the other.

The lecture began—some dull ramble about economic principles and customer engagement—but Jungkook was too busy watching the way Taehyung twirled his pen with fingers that had been buried in his hair just hours ago.

"Eyes on the board, Jeon," Taehyung murmured without turning. "Not my fingers."

"Can't help it," Jungkook replied, voice thick. "Those fingers make me lose my religion."

"Too bad your GPA's already doing that for you."

Jungkook snorted, kicked his ankle lightly under the table.

Midway through class, their professor—Mr. Do—paused mid-sentence.

"Jeon Jungkook," he said, brows lifting. "Why don't you explain the relationship between customer loyalty and brand equity?"

Jungkook sat up, licking his lips, eyes flashing mischief.

"I would, sir," he said smoothly. "But I'm currently loyal to only one brand. And he's sitting right next to me."

The class groaned. Someone clapped. Mr. Do sighed.

Taehyung looked mortified. "Koo," he whispered, hiding his face. "You're gonna get us kicked out."

"Worth it," Jungkook muttered, dropping his hand under the desk to squeeze Taehyung's thigh.

And that was how every afternoon went—

Between half-understood equations and messy presentations, where Jungkook half-assed his slides but still made them look hot doing it, and Taehyung aced every bullet point while looking like a seductive angel in oversized glasses.

Between coffee runs where Taehyung would make sure to pick the cheapest iced americano, half sugar, because that's what their pocket could afford—and Jungkook would steal sips from it with no shame, licking the straw just to make Taehyung blush in the middle of the quad.

Between smuggled kisses in the library aisles and handsy moments in empty classrooms where their moans had to be muffled into wrists and shirt collars.

Where Jungkook would press Taehyung against the chalk-dusted wall and whisper filth into his ear with a grin too dangerous for 2 PM.

"You keep clenching around nothing, baby," he'd murmur, grinding their hips together as his hand crept beneath Taehyung's skirt. "You want me to fu*k you dumb right here? Want me to ruin this perfect little pu--y so you can't sit through your next lecture without dripping?"

And Taehyung—god, Taehyung would breathe out a shaky "Yes, please," even as his fingers clawed at Jungkook's back to stay standing.

Because Jungkook always knew what to say.

What to touch.

What to make Taehyung feel.

Sometimes it was just the way his hand would slip under Taehyung's sweater during late study sessions, palming one of his breasts like it was his own stress ball while muttering, "These fu*king drive me crazy," before licking lazy circles over a nip-ple just to hear Tae gasp.

Other times, it was the way Jungkook would sit behind him in class, hand under the desk, two fingers buried deep while his thumb pressed against Taehyung's cl-t, whispering, "Be quiet, baby. Be a good little sl*t and don't make a sound."

Taehyung would press his cheek to the desk, legs shaking, thighs wet, and all he could do was grip Jungkook's wrist under the desk while his mouth hung open in silence.

Between Jungkook casually draping his arm around the back of Taehyung's chair like a predator marking territory—and shooting death glares at any guy who dared let his eyes linger a second too long on the curve of Tae's lips or the way his jeans hugged his soft, plush ass.

"Eyes forward unless you want your jaw sideways," Jungkook had whispered once to a second-year who got too bold with his stare. The guy never looked Taehyung's way again.

They were chaos and comfort.

A living contradiction.

One second they were bickering about who left the wet towel on the bed, and the next Jungkook was pulling Taehyung onto his lap during break, mouthing at his neck like he needed to memorize the taste.

They were stitched together with lust and loyalty, a patchwork of broken backgrounds and raw love.

They shared pens and painkillers and whispered confessions under the bleachers. They pushed each other's buttons in between Excel sheets and broken pencils—because no matter how fu*ked up their lives were outside, in those four walls of campus, they still felt like something real. Something strong.

But behind the teasing and tension...

Something darker lingered.

A fear.

The kind that sat at the pit of their stomachs like cement.

That fear neither of them wanted to name.

Because love like theirs—two boys from homes that never loved them back, carrying scars from fists and words alike, scraping coins to survive—wasn't the kind the world rooted for.

Life outside that campus was cruel. They knew it too well.

Jungkook had fists for a reason. Taehyung had silence for survival.

There were still days they skipped meals to pay electricity. Still nights they lay together in the dark with growling stomachs, whispering horny promises just to forget the ache of hunger. Still mornings where Taehyung's body trembled not from lust, but from delivery exhaustion... and Jungkook massaged his calves with guilt in his chest because he couldn't give more.

And their love?

Too wild to be safe.

Too physical. Too loud. Too unrelenting.

It didn't fit in neat little boxes. It didn't obey the rules of decency or respectability. It was filthy and unfiltered. It burned hotter than their cheap fan could cool.

Because when Taehyung climbed onto Jungkook's lap at 1 a.m., skirt bunched around his hips and lube in hand, Jungkook didn't just take him.

He worshipped him.

"God, you're soaked," Jungkook moaned into his chest, sucking a nipple between his teeth as his fingers played with the slick folds between Taehyung's thighs. "You're gonna ride me, yeah? Make a mess all over me while I squeeze these perfect tts and fuk up into you like you're made for me?"

Taehyung moaned, grinding down on his fingers with need. "I'm yours," he gasped. "Yours to fu*k, to ruin—just shut up and fill me, Jungkook, please."

Jungkook grabbed his waist, hard. "You say that sh*t, but then you make me hold back. You wanna walk tomorrow or not, baby?"

"Fu*k walking," Taehyung hissed, guiding him to his soaked entrance. "Just make me scream."

And when he finally sank down on him, when Jungkook's mouth opened in a strangled moan and his hands roamed everywhere—pulling at breasts, gripping thighs, spreading him wider—there was nothing left but heat.

"Mine," Jungkook kept chanting, burying his face in the crook of Taehyung's neck. "Fuking mine. You're dripping down my blls, baby. Squeezing me so tight, so fuking tight. You're gonna come for me, yeah? Let me feel you lose it on my dck?"

And Taehyung did.

Crying his name, nails in his back, hips rolling like sin itself.

And when he came, body shaking, tears slipping from the corner of his eyes—Jungkook followed, groaning filth into his ear as they both collapsed in a sweaty, tangled heap of love and mess.

Because they might not have money.

They might not have support.

They might not even have clean sheets.

But they had each other.

And tonight?

They had chocolate ice cream from the half-melted tub in their old rusty freezer.

They had the almond lube they'd saved for nights like this.

And Jungkook?

He had Taehyung.

Soft, ruined, gorgeous, loved.

And nothing else mattered.

**** To be continued....

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