#this is a continuation of the previous fic

[thewritingrowlet]

The Office Romance pt. 2, ft. tripleS Seoyeon

tags: creampie, anal, blowjob, food play, rough, daddy kink

length: almost 10k

author's note: I remember you guys liked the first Seoyeon anal fic, so here's another one—enjoy!

-

“Ngh, ngh—oh, fuck!”

Only these sounds escape Seoyeon’s lips as she tries to cope with your cock that’s invading her ass. You’re no better, though; despite being able to speak coherently, the words that come out of your lips are dirty to say the least.

“Oh, fuck, how are you always so tight, baby? You’re so fucking amazing.”

Seoyeon lifts her face off the pillow momentarily. “P-please cum; I-I can’t take much of this anymore,” she begs. It was her idea to do anal this midnight—after your previous load went into her pussy—and you’re simply playing along, but now that she’s visibly uncomfortable, you don’t feel like continuing.

You slowly pull your cock out of her rear and flip her onto her back. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby,” you wipe some tears off her plump cheeks. “It was so painful, wasn’t it?” Seoyeon nods. “I-I thought I would’ve been able to handle it, but apparently not.” You pull her into an embrace after lying down next to her. “I’m very happy that you’re putting my pleasure as one of your top priorities, but at the same time, I wish you wouldn’t force yourself like this next time.” Seoyeon pecks you on the lips. “It’s because you matter the most to me, oppa.” “I know, baby, and you matter the most to me,” you say, “but let’s not do it like this again.”

The two of you didn’t shower after the first sex session a few hours ago, and you think that now is a good time for it. “Let’s get some shower, baby, and then we can get some proper rest.” “I’ll need your help for that, oppa.” You take your turn to peck her on the lips. “Gladly, baby.”

-

“Hi! Hello!” Dayeon, who happens to be at the lobby, greets you and Seoyeon. She isn’t in the best mood today—you have a few clues as to why—so you’re reluctant to greet Dayeon back with the same energy, because the last thing you want is for Seoyeon to think that you’re too excited to see Dayeon. Seoyeon, however, suddenly picks up her steps, thus leaving you and Dayeon behind.

“Oh.” Dayeon’s smile disappears as she watches her leave. “Is she okay?” You tell her that Seoyeon didn’t have much sleep last night, hence the crankiness, and apologize on her behalf. “I guess I’m not coming to your place tomorrow, then.” You shake your head. “I mean, the idea wasn’t even mine.”

After parting ways with Dayeon, you rush towards the elevator to chase your girlfriend. “There you are.” You approach the grumpy beauty who’s sitting at her desk. “Are you okay, baby? Can I help with anything?” Seoyeon starts crying, taking you by surprise. “I-I’m so tired, oppa, a-and here you are, flirting with another girl.” You want to hug her and assure her that you weren’t even close to flirting with Dayeon, but there’s a CCTV in this area. “Follow me, please,” you tilt your head towards the door to your office, and thankfully, Seoyeon does follow you.

After closing the door behind her, you pull her into a tight hug. “Baby, I wasn’t flirting with her; I was just saying hi because she said hi first.” “I know,” Seoyeon sighs, “I’m sorry, oppa; I don’t know why I’m so sensitive today.” You gently run a hand on the back of her head. “You’re just drained, baby—maybe we shouldn’t push too much to have sex from now on.” Your girlfriend presses her face on your chest. “I just wanted to please you, oppa,” she reasons. “I know, baby, and I thank you for that, but if having sex denies you some much-needed rest, then what’s the point?” Seoyeon pulls away from the hug, wiping her eyes as she does. “I’m going to cry until my eyes are dry if we keep hugging—I’ll start working now.” Before you let her go, you come in for a quick kiss. “I love you, baby.” “I love you too, oppa.”

You go to sit at your desk and see that your computer is already on, and there’s a note stuck on the bezel of your monitor that says, “lunch w/ me @ Tonkatsu Theater.” “Oh, you want to get lunch with me, baby? That’s very cute.”

-

You arrive at Tonkatsu Theater with Seoyeon at around 1 p.m. “Oh, it’s not that packed,” you comment. “Wouldn’t matter if it did; I’ve booked a table for us.” “You have? When?” “This morning, on our way to the office.”

“A reservation for Yoon Seoyeon, please,” Seoyeon says to one of the staffs, who then asks the two of you to follow him towards the reserved private dining area. “Two tonkatsu, one onion rings, one iced tea with no sugar, and one orange juice, please.” Look, she even orders for you. You wait until the staff leaves before reaching for her hands. “This should’ve been my job, but thank you, baby.” A smile gradually forms on her face, a perfect fit for the rest of her gorgeous features. “Of course, oppa,” she replies, her cheeks pink. “You’re paying for the food, though.” You let out a chuckle that’s louder than intended. “Of course, baby.”

The food arrives at your table not long after you’re seated, which is great; you skipped breakfast this morning because you were running late, so you’re starving right now. Seoyeon slams her hands on the table, a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. “Doesn’t this look amazing?" You nod enthusiastically. “It sure does,” you pick up your utensils, “shall we?”

Seoyeon sinks in her seat after the first bite. “Oh, my—oh my God,” she speaks despite the full mouth, “one bite is all it takes to fall in love.” You see an opportunity to make a joke. “The same way it took you one kiss to fall in love with me?” Seoyeon covers her mouth as she tries her hardest to not laugh and spit everywhere. When the amusement dies down, she kicks you under the table. “Oh my God, stoooop—just eat, oppa, why are you teasing me?” You pinch her round cheeks lightly. “Oh, please, don’t tell me you weren’t amused.”

-

You summon Dayeon to your office with around an hour left in the workday to talk about some debut-related stuff with her and Seoyeon.

“Hi, hi,” Dayeon enters your office with a smile, and you replicate that smile for her. “So, what’s so important?” “I’ll get straight to the point,” you say, “I’m thinking about debuting all seven of them.” She looks at you with this neutral face that you’re not sure what the meaning is. “Is that so?” You nod. “I’m curious about what you think since you’ve spent some time getting familiar with them.” Dayeon sighs. “Soobin-ie needs some more training.” “I mean, we still have time until January at most,” you reason. “Okay,” she says, “then in that case, I want to be more hands-on with Soobin-ie—don’t worry, I’ll make sure I don’t offend the instructors.“ “Yeah, go ahead,” you show her the green light.

“Is that it, or?” You shake your head. “One more thing, actually,” you change the subject, “you were an idol at some point in your life; how was mental health support when you were active?” You can see joy gradually disappearing from her features. “It didn’t exist,” she sighs, “I had to rely on the older members for that, and it goes without saying that they had their own things to worry about.”

You grab some origami papers of different colors that you’ve cut into credit card-sized rectangles. “Seoyeon-ie suggested that we give out these cards to the girls, and whenever they want to talk, they can just show me or anyone at the company one of these things.” “What are the different colors for?” “I know that green is for when they want to talk about work stuff, but I don’t know about red and orange yet.” Dayeon looks at Seoyeon momentarily before turning her focus back to you. “Orange should be for when they want to talk to a psychologist or the sort, and red is for girls’ stuff.” You ask her to elaborate, so she does. “I don’t know, I was thinking that maybe Seoyeon-ie could be their older sister at work, but I think she already has so much in her hands.”

You ask Seoyeon what she thinks about Dayeon’s idea. “I mean, if you can take off some work load off me, then I’ll gladly take on a closer role with the girls,” Seoyeon says. You rub your chin as you think about it; the things you usually assign to Seoyeon are those that you really need help with, so it’s not like you’re slacking off and delegating things to others just because you can, but at the same time, if she can become that person the girls can rely on, it’d be so helpful for them. “We’ll think about it, okay?”

You’re promptly reminded that debuting all seven trainees would mean that you’ll need to find a new living space to properly accommodate them, which you don’t have references for just yet—three of the seven trainees live with their parents, so at the moment, you only need to house the remaining four.

“Dayeon-ah, find some apartments that can fit seven of them comfortably, please?” “Yeah, sure,” she says, “anything else?” “No, that’s it.” Dayeon nods and writes down her new assignment on her phone. “I’ll get to it; give me a day or two,” she says. “Alright, you may go, then.”

You expect her to just turn around and walk out, but no, she bends over your desk and gives you a peck on the lips. “Uhh,” you’re getting nervous, “thanks, I guess?” “Don’t be mad, Seoyeon-ah,” she says, “see you two around!”

You’re still silent even after Dayeon has left your office. You’re snapped out of your trance when you hear a chuckle from Seoyeon. “What are you so stunned for, oppa—you’ve never gotten a kiss from a girl before?” “I didn’t expect her to be so brazen considering that you’re here.” Your girlfriend places her palms on your cheeks. “Something tells me that I don’t have to worry about her,” she says, rubbing your cheeks softly as she does, “I know who I am in your eyes.” “I love you,” you say, earning a cute smile from Seoyeon. “I love you too, oppa.”

You keep an eye on her as she walks away from your desk and out of your office. This morning, she cried because she thought that you were flirting with Dayeon (even though it was a simple, friendly greeting), and about a workday later, Seoyeon said with confidence that she knew her worth in your eyes.

You shake your head to clear your mind. The workday is done and it’s time to go home with Seoyeon.

At least that was the plan, because when you leave your office, you see Jihyun sitting on the other side of Seoyeon’s desk, seemingly sad about something.

“Are you okay, Miss Seo?” Jihyun bites her lip nervously before answering you. “Erm, i-it’s about Sunbin-ie,” she says vaguely. “What about her?” “S-she sprained her ankle just now, a-and I thought I should tell you and Miss Yoon.” You sigh and rub your forehead at the same time. What’s with Sunbin and hurting her legs, man—first it was her calf, and now it’s her ankle. “Where is she now, Jihyun-ah?” “S-still in the practice room, sir, i-if you’d follow me.”

As you and Seoyeon are following Jihyun to the practice room, you nudge her. “Try holding her hand, babe,” you whisper. Seoyeon does as you ask and takes Jihyun’s hand in hers, and Jihyun is visibly surprised. “You’re alright, Jihyun-ah,” she says, “from now on, I’ll be your older sister that you can rely on." Jihyun isn’t quite sure of what to make of the words, but based on her nods, you guess that she likes the idea.

“Girls, the bosses are here,” Jihyun announces your and Seoyeon’s presence as the three of you enter the practice room. You see the girls standing around a seated person who you assume is Sunbin, circling her and thus blocking your view. One of them suddenly turns around, and— “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” Sunwoo starts singing the song while clapping her hands to the rhythm, followed by the other trainees, and you promptly look at your watch: it is the 6th of November, which is your birthday—if it wasn’t for these girls, you wouldn’t have remembered.

It is when the girls peel away from the circle that you see the white birthday cake (that has some text written in red-colored buttercream on it) in Sunbin’s hands. “Oh my God,” you palm your forehead, “so this was a ploy?” Seoyeon wraps an arm around yours and drags you closer to the cake. “Happy birthday, boss!” You’re highly amused by the surprise. “Thank you, everyone,” you say.

You and Seoyeon sit on the floor with the girls, the cake sitting in the middle like a bonfire. “He doesn’t celebrate his birthday, guys,” Seoyeon says, “it’s only my birthday he celebrates.” Soobin asks why, so you simply say that your family doesn’t really celebrate anyone’s birthday regularly. “Wait,” Soobin says, “did you say he only celebrates your birthday, Miss Yoon?” Seoyeon’s cheeks turn bright red. “Y-yes,” she says, covering her cheeks with her palms, “h-he’s my boyfriend, if you didn’t know already.” Based on the girls’ expressions, you guess that they didn’t know about it.

It is time to address something important: how did they know that it’s your birthday? “Well, I asked Miss Kim—Kim Dayeon, that is,” Sihyeon says, “and now we know everyone’s birthdays.” You shake your head. “So let me ask again, Sunbin-ie didn’t hurt her ankles?” Everyone bursts out laughing. “No, no, no—we just had Jihyun-ie act stressed and sad so that she could get your attention. “Well, dang,” you say, “maybe we should consider giving Jihyun-ie some acting lessons.”

Sunbin pulls out a plastic knife from her back pocket and cuts the cake into 8 parts. “You and Miss Yoon should share, boss,” Sunbin says. Daeun passes a slice over to you along with a spoon. “Choo, choo, baby.” You guide a spoonful of cake towards Seoyeon’s mouth, and with red cheeks, she takes it in her mouth. “Oooooh,” the trainees collectively react, as if sharing the same brain cells. Seoyeon shakes her head as she chews her mouthful. “Alright, alright,” you try saving your girlfriend from further embarrassment, “let’s eat, girls!”

It doesn’t take long for people to finish their slices—Hyeonju even finishes hers in 3 mouthfuls. “Miss Park and Miss Jeon, get some water for us, please.” Soobin and Sunbin do as you ask and grab some bottles of water. “Alright, so,” you start a new topic, “I think this is a good opportunity to talk.” The trainees look at you both in confusion and nervousness. “Oh, don’t worry; it’s nothing to be concerned about—if anything, I think you should be excited about this.”

You briefly explain to the trainees how you’re planning to implement a system where each of them can request an audience with anyone in the company for anything they want to address, from work-related things to personal ones. “A part of the plan is to have Miss Yoon over here to take on a role as your, erm, older sister, I guess.” The seven trainees look at you and Seoyeon in silence, probably processing what this could mean for them. “Look,” you pile on, “I want to provide clear communication channels between us because each of you matters a lot for us.” “And how do you plan on doing that, sir?” “I have some cards of different colors upstairs, and the idea is that different colors represent different purposes; show it to anyone and they’ll take care of you accordingly, from the trainers to the psychiatrist.”

“I like that,” Sunwoo is the first to break the silence, “I think I like that idea, boss.” A smile appears on your face, pushing tenseness away in the process. “Thank you, Miss Jung—anyone else?” Sihyeon asks if seeing the psychiatrist would require them to pay. “No, the company will pay for it, because we’ll be hiring professionals for this.” “Wait, hold on,” Sunwoo speaks again, “please promise us that this system is long-term.” You nod. “As long as me and Miss Yoon are here, it won’t go away.”

“Guys,” Seoyeon takes the baton from you, “please let us know what you think.” Park Soobin, who happens to sit right next to her, hugs her from the side. “Unnie,” she says softly, “I love you, my unnie.” Seoyeon replicates the gesture, beaming as she does. “I love you too, Soobin-ah; talk to me often, ‘kay? I promise I’ll make time for you.”

You step away from the circle to give space, and the girls immediately hug Seoyeon from all directions as a group. You find yourself beaming and your heart is full of warmth because of the sight in front of you. “I’m glad everyone is on board with the idea.” “Can we call you oppa, then?” Jihyun’s question makes you laugh. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with it, then sure.”

The trainees take their previous sitting positions in the circle, thus allowing you to rejoin. “Oh, I just remembered,” you say, “we’re also planning on giving you guys some vacation, since your instructors are going to take some PTO next week.” Some cheer while some others don’t really show excitement. You ask those who aren’t as ecstatic if they’re okay, and they say different reasons as to why they’re not excited: Daeun doesn’t feel like seeing her parents (she doesn’t have the best relationship with them), Hyeonju wants to see her parents but doesn’t have money for transport (that can be fixed easily), and finally, Soobin says she wants to practice more.

“Work will always be there, Soobin-ah,” you say, “don’t you want to take a breather for a moment?” Soobin’s teary gaze strays away from yours. “I think I’m still lacking, sir, and since only 5 of us will debut, I-I need to pick it up.” You notice that Seoyeon is deeply looking at you, and you wonder if this is a good opportunity to reveal the plan of debuting all of them.

A part of you wants to provide comfort for Soobin, but at the same time, it’s too risky to open the card now. “Alright, okay,” you say, “Miss Kim said earlier that she wanted to be more hands-on with your training, so I’m going to entrust you to her.” “Y-yes, sir; I-I will work hard.”

The general mood is declining, and it makes you think that it’s time to wrap it up. “Alright, let’s go home, everyone.” Before leaving with you, Seoyeon makes the time to hug each trainee, offering comfort and kindness to them. “We will see you soon—good evening, everyone.”

As soon as you get in the car with Seoyeon, she confronts you. “Why didn’t you say that all of them will debut?” “I wanted to, but I felt like it was too risky.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment. “They needed comfort, oppa, but you failed to provide them with it—this is their future more than it is ours.” You sigh. “I’m sorry,” you say, “should we tell them now, then?” “No, it’d be embarrassing to go back in there, but you need to tell them soon.”

-

“I’m going to shower first; feel free to do whatever.” Seoyeon beelines towards the bathroom without bothering to shed some clothes off first. “Sure, baby.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, feeling very uneasy about the attitude that your girlfriend is showing you. At the same time, however, this wouldn’t have happened had you told the trainees that all of them will debut in January. “It’s fine—this is fine,” you say to yourself, “Soobin-ie still needs to practice more anyway.”

While you wait for Seoyeon to finish showering, you get rid of your work clothes in favor of some more comfortable T-shirt and shorts. “Oppa!” You faintly hear her calling to you from the bathroom. “One second!” You jog a little towards her and see that the bathroom door is slightly open. “Yes, baby?” “Can you grab me some pajamas?” “Sure.”

After grabbing a set of pink pajamas from the wardrobe, you make your way back to the bathroom. “Baby, I’m putting it on the mat, okay?” You see the door swinging open, revealing your drenched, naked girlfriend. “Come here,” she says. Your eyes run up and down her body as you think about the situation—oh, wait, she just shaved. “Erm, sure.”

You stay silent as Seoyeon undresses you, cooperating here and there where you see fit. “Oppa,” she snatches your attention, “listen to me, please.” Your gaze moves to meet hers. “First of all, happy birthday,” she begins, “I didn’t forget it, just so we’re clear, but I didn’t have time to get you a present, so I’m sorry.” You shake your head. “Having you by my side is far better than any present.” Seoyeon looks away momentarily to hide her red cheeks.

“Anyway,” she clears her throat before continuing, “I want to apologize, oppa; I, erm, wasn’t so kind with you this past hour.” You shake your head again. “I understand where you were coming from—actually, I was about to ask you if I should come to their practice tomorrow and announce the plan.” “We can if you want to,” she says, and you simply nod in response.

“Hey, so, erm” you change the subject, “why am I here?” Seoyeon chuckles. “Well, I wanted to suck you—y’know, to celebrate your birthday and all that.” Your lips are shut, but your cock does the talking, getting hard at the prospect of getting a blowjob. “Take a seat somewhere, oppa.” You look for spots in the bathroom and decide that you’ll take the toilet. “I’m ready when you are, baby.”

The way Seoyeon’s hips sway as she’s making her way towards you combined with the sight of her shaved crotch makes you drool. The sight is replaced when she kneels between your legs, her eyes locked on your erect shaft. “Happy birthday, oppa.” “Thank you, love,” you place a hand on the side of her face, “thank you for being here.” Seoyeon, not in the correct position to peck you on the lips, gives you a peck on the tip of your cock.

You gasp when the first few centimeters of your cock enters her mouth. Seoyeon wastes little time and immediately begins bobbing her head along your shaft. “Oh my God, baby,” you say breathily, “you’re always so damn good at this.” Enthused by your praise, Seoyeon plants her hands on your thighs so that she can be stable while sucking your cock fast and deep. Her wet hair sticks on different parts of her face, and you take it as your job to tidy it up as much as you can.

“Oh, God, I won’t last if you do it like that,” you comment when you feel her tongue running on the underside of your shaft. Your cock leaves her lips with a pop. “No, no, no, you can only bust here,” she points at her crotch, “I didn’t shave just for you to cum in my mouth.” You wipe some drool off the edges of your lips. “Okay,” you say, “are we doing it here, then?” Seoyeon looks around the bathroom. “Yeah, let’s do it here; it’s easier for us to clean up after.” “I’m ready when you are, baby.”

You expect Seoyeon to impale herself on your cock, but she doesn’t—she just stands in front of you with her hands on your shoulders. “Are you okay, baby?” She sighs. “I, erm, don’t feel the usual emotions.” You show her a gentle smile. “Is that so, my love?” The endearment makes her blush a little. “If you keep calling me that, though...”

You lift your butt off the toilet, thus towering over her like you usually do. “Love, listen, please,” you rub her cheek gently, “I love you so, so, so much, and I’m thankful for you.” Seoyeon’s big eyes are locked on yours, and her lips are shut tight, waiting for you to pile on. “That said, my love, I apologize for all my shortcomings; I promise I will work on becoming the best person you want to spend your life with.”

“You know I hate empty promises, right, oppa?” You nod. “I do, and I hate them as much as you do, love.” “So, how are you going to show your commitment to fulfill that promise, oppa?” Her question stumps you; how are you going to show your commitment is indeed a very good and valid question. “I-I don’t know.” This cluelessness makes you want to cry—you really want to give her a good answer, but no matter how hard you’re cranking the gears in your head, you just can’t come up with one. “I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t know what to say.”

Seoyeon takes her turn to rub your cheek with her gentle hand. “You don’t have to answer with your words, oppa—actions speak louder anyway.” The embarrassment in your head leads to you dropping your chin, but Seoyeon lifts it up again, thus making you look at her again. “Hey, now,” her voice is very soft, “get yourself together, oppa; I still love you, y’know.” You take a deep breath. “Sorry, love—you brought me here to have sex, and what you’re getting is a mess.” “Let me fix that mess, oppa.”

Seoyeon gets on her tippy toes and places her lips on yours, and with every second passing, you can feel that things are getting clearer for you to see; Seoyeon is here to stay and watch you grow as a man in this relationship with her unwavering patience and warm love. “I love you, oppa,” her soft voice warms your heart, “and trust me when I say that it’s not an empty sentence.” You smile. “I love you more, love—I haven’t the slightest of doubt in my head about us.” Seoyeon smiles sweetly. “I think we’re ready to have sex now.” “We are,” you agree with her, “but I don’t want to do it here.”

You step away from your girlfriend to grab a towel and use it to wipe water off her body. “Sex in the bathroom doesn’t feel appropriate for us right now, don’t you think?” Seoyeon hums in agreement. Once she’s dry enough to not wet the bed, you lift her by her thighs and carry her to the bedroom, exchanging pecks on the way there.

“I take it we’ll be doing vanilla?” “I mean, we have some chocolate in the fridge if you want to spice it up.” Seoyeon laughs. “No, no, no—we didn’t build up all those emotions just to be, uh, naughty.” You take a seat on the edge of the bed with her still on your lap. “Maybe next time, then?” She sticks her tongue out slightly, seemingly full of ideas for “next time.” “We can go crazy next time, oppa, but let’s worry about that next time.”

You fall backwards onto the bed, thus making Seoyeon take the top position. “Oh, I get to be on top?” You chuckle. “As if you’ve never been on top before.” You gasp when you feel her grabbing your cock and stroking it. “You know I like being on the bottom more, but I don’t mind riding this big dick of yours every now and then.”

You’re about to say something but got cut off when Seoyeon lets you in her tight and wet pussy. “Oh, yes, daddy,” she lets out a long moan at the first contact. “Vanilla, baby, remember?” She laughs a little. “Ah, of course—sorry, force of habit.”

She lies on your body, putting those soft tits of hers right on your chest. “Will you marry me one day, baby?” She gives you a peck on the lips. “I will marry you in this life, the next, and the one after.” “You think we’ll meet again in the next life?” She gives you another peck. “We belong to each other, oppa, and we’ll always find our way back, no matter the distance.”

You think that you’ve had enough conversation, so you push yourself upwards into her warm pussy to signal that you’re ready (if not eager) to begin, thus earning a soft moan from her. “You’re perfect for me, oppa, and I’m perfect for you—that Kim Dayeon girl can’t compete with me.” You pinch her cheek lightly. “Let’s not mention another name when we’re in bed like this, baby.” “S-sure.”

You let out a big exhale when Seoyeon does a full up-and-down move along your cock, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. “Y-you’re doing that thing again, oppa,” she quips, “y-your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.” You let your eyelids close as they wish. “You’re amazing, that’s why.” You get a peck on the cheek from her. “I’m only like this for you, oppa; you make me want to give you the best all the time.” You don’t know how she’s able to speak these many words with your cock lodged deep in her pussy. “Uh-huh.”

Seoyeon wraps her arms tightly around your nape and begins moving her hips along your cock, moaning so damn freely as she does. “Oh, God, if only I could say how much I love you, oppa.” You shake your head. “Actions speak louder, remember?” “Y-yes, I remember, b-but still.”

You collect yourself and lift your body off the bed, and Seoyeon, as if able to read your mind, kisses you without being asked to. “I love you, baby—I love you so much, and I’ll make you mine forever one day.” “Let’s not worry about the future right now, oppa,” her whispered words hit you hard, “let’s think about the here and now.” You chuckle a little. “Sure, baby.”

You move closer towards the center of the bed and take the top position this time. “I want to mark you, baby.” Seoyeon tilts her head to expose your target. “Have at it, oppa.” Your lips promptly latch on the side of her neck, and once she starts moaning because of it, you start moving your hips back and forth to maximize stimulation. “Oh, yes, that’s it, oppa,” she expresses her approval of your actions, “keep going just like that, oppa.”

This relaxed pace works well for you; you don’t have to worry about busting early because of her tight grip and instead are able to really enjoy the sensations. That said, Seoyeon, as per usual, likely needs something more—

“Oppa, I-I’m getting close.”

Well, isn’t that great to hear; you were just about to ask her if she wanted something more to send her across the finish line, but she just announces that she’s about to cross that line.

“We’ll cum together, baby, ‘kay?” Seoyeon nods in response as her eyes are shut tight, unlike her lips where moans are escaping from, and the sight makes you smile. “You’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you, baby?” “A s-sweet girl like me d-deserves a good guy.” You give her some fleeting kisses. “Am I not a good guy, baby?” Her lips form a small but precious smile. “Y-you’re the best, oppa.”

Your heart starts racing as orgasm makes its way closer to you. “B-baby,” your voice is heavy and breathy, “I-I’m about to—” “Yes, yes, give it all to me, oppa.” You tighten the embrace and pick up the pace of your hips a bit, chasing your orgasm with utmost eagerness. “Yes, just like that, oppa—oh, fuck, yes.” Seoyeon’s approval serves as fuel for your nearly exhausted body to keep pushing during this final short stretch.

With a deep grunt, you release a big, warm load into your girlfriend, thus earning a long moan from her. “I—oh, God,” you’re breathless, “I-I love you so much, baby.” Seoyeon’s body begins to tremble in your arms, a sign that confirms your success at the task. “H-hold me! Hold me, oppa!” You make sure your arms stay strong to hold her close, fighting off as much of the exhaustion as you can. “You’re fine, baby; I’m here for you—I’m always here for you, baby.”

It is only when Seoyeon calms down that you let go of the hug and move to lie next to her. “G-get me a pill, oppa.” You gather your strength and roll over to reach the bedside table to get the pill. You hand it over to your girlfriend along with a bottle that’s barely a quarter full. “O-one day, we won’t bother with this thing,” she says, “I-I swear to God, I’ll give you a child, oppa.” You pet her head softly. “One day, sweetie, okay?”

-

You and Seoyeon arrive at your company’s building in a fine and chill Saturday morning.

The two of you head straight to the practice room where you assume the trainees are, and true enough, everyone but Jihyun is present. “Where is Jihyun-ie?” “She went out to run earlier, but she should be here soon.” It’s an odd time to start getting nervous, and you try your hardest to shake it off. “Yeah, okay,” you take a seat on a nearby chair, “we’ll wait for her a bit.”

The 19-year-old trio of Hyeonju, Daeun, and Soobin are lying on the floor, train hugging from one end to the other. “Yah, Shin Daeun, stop moving, will you?” “Then hug me more tightly, dummy.” Hyeonju and Daeun have been close since middle school, which explains their best friend-like dynamics. “I don’t know how Jinhwan-ie can cuddle you through the night.”

Daeun glances at you nervously. “D-don’t say that out loud, Hyeonju-yah—the boss is right there.” You don’t recall including a “no dating” term in anyone’s contract. “Dating is completely fine, girls,” you interject. Daeun reaches behind and slaps Hyeonju on the thigh. “I hate you sometimes, Kim Hyeonju.”

Jihyun enters the room after a short while, panting heavily as she does. “Ah, hi,” she waves at you and Seoyeon, “good morning.” “Good morning to you too, sweetie,” Seoyeon replies, “how far did you run?” Jihyun looks at her smartwatch. “Uh, about 3 kilometers.” “Pace?” “Just around 7 minutes per kilometer.” Seoyeon claps her hands in praise. “Great job, Jihyun-ah.” “I would love to hug you, unnie, but I’m so sweaty.” Seoyeon takes off her cardigan and moves to hug Jihyun. “It’s fine, Jihyun-ah.” “You’re the best, unnie.”

“Alright, now that everyone is here,” you stand up from your chair, “I would like to announce some things, so gather around, please.” The trainees take their spots near you, and you feel as if you were a kindergarten teacher right now. “Let’s start with the big one,” you take a deep breath first, “all seven of you are debuting.” Your announcement is met with confused blinks. “Can someone say something, please?” “All of us are debuting, oppa?” Sunbin finally breaks the silence, and you nod in response, letting out a deep exhale in the process. “You heard me right.”

The trainees look at each other, seemingly excited at the prospect of debuting together. Jihyun suddenly stands up in front of the crowd. “That means no one is getting dropped, right?” She looks at you momentarily and looks at her fellow trainees. “C’mon, girls,” she tries firing up her colleagues, “the boss just confirmed that all of us are debuting, so let’s give this our all—we don’t want to disappoint oppa and unnie, do we?”

Sihyeon gets on her feet and walks towards you. “Oppa,” she says softly, “you’re not riling us up for nothing, are you?” You shake your head adamantly to show seriousness. “What would I gain from lying to you, Sihyeon-ah?” You’re taken aback when she suddenly hugs you. “I-I will work hard, oppa—you won’t regret this, I swear!” You pet her back gently. “I know, Miss Kang,” you say, “give this last part of training period your all, okay, and I promise we’ll do our part in return.”

Sihyeon lets go of the hug and changes her target to Seoyeon and in her arms Sihyeon’s wall crumbles, showing everyone present the vulnerability of her gentle heart. “I won’t let you down, unnie—I swear on everything I won’t let you down.” Seoyeon closes her eyes as she tries her hardest to stay solid for Sihyeon. “I know, I know,” she pets her back gently the same way you did, “and I’m certain you will make it to the big stage.”

You fish out a small handkerchief from your back pocket and hand it to Seoyeon, who then uses it to wipe Sihyeon’s tears. “Hey, hey, listen to me,” Seoyeon says, “we’ll be with you every step of the way, Sihyeon-ah, and whenever you’re worried about something, remember that you’re never alone.” Unable to answer, the crying girl resorts to nodding, and Seoyeon gives her one last pet on the back before letting go.

“Girls,” Seoyeon takes command despite her glassy eyes, “we believe in you, the same way you believed in us when we first took you in as trainees, so please, let’s work hard together and make this dream come true—am I understood?” “Yes, unnie!”

-

It is when you and Seoyeon reach the privacy of your office that she starts breaking down, no longer able to keep herself together. “I love them, oppa,” she begins, “I-I love them like an older sister.” You pull her into a hug and place a hand on the back of her head. “I know, sweetie, and I’m so glad that they have someone like you by their side.” Her wails become louder as her hands hang on to your hoodie tightly to keep you as close as possible. “I-I want a raise, oppa.” You burst out laughing. “Of course, sweetie; I’ll give you a raise soon, okay?”

You stay with Seoyeon until her benevolent heart calms down and her beautiful eyes stop letting out tears. “You’re such a kind person, aren’t you, love?” She lets out a whimper into your chest. “People love you for your kindness, love—you know that, right?” “Yes,” her voice is muffled by your body. You peck her on the top of her head once. “I will never let you go, love; my world would lose its light if you were to leave me.” “I-I won’t—" A sniffle interrupts her. “I won’t leave you forever, oppa.”

You walk backwards and drag her along towards your seat. “Let’s have a seat for a moment, ‘kay?” Your girlfriend nods into your chest, still not willing to look at you in the eyes. “You’re safe here, love; you’re safe with me.”

Seoyeon suddenly lifts her chin and meets your gaze with eyes that are red from the wave of tears. “I love you, oppa.” “Oh, baby,” you chuckle a little, “I love you so, so, so much, too.” “How much?” “I know you don’t like it when I say that I’d die for you, so instead, I’ll say that I love you so much that I want to be healthy all the time so that I can always be with you.” She beams in satisfaction. “Great answer, oppa.”

The bell to your office rings, and you expect Seoyeon to jump off your lap, but no, she still stays seated on you. “You can answer it, oppa.”

You press a button on your desk to unlock the door, and it swings open soon after, thus revealing Dayeon who is dressed in a dance practice attire. “Oh, am I interrupting?” You shake your head. “Can I help you?” “The girls told me about your plan to debut all of them.” “Are you here to share your opinion, then?” “Yes, kind of,” she says, “I think it was wise to tell them now; I can feel the hopefulness in the air.” “My sweet Seoyeon-ie here deserves the credit; it was her idea to announce the plan to the trainees.” Dayeon nods before closing the door and disappearing behind it.

“Oppa,” Seoyeon taps your nape to get your attention, “can we go home now? Let’s leave the trainees with Dayeon-ie.” “Don’t you want to get breakfast before we head home?” She nods against your left cheek. “I want some bubble waffles, oppa.”

-

While you wait for the bubble waffles to be made, Seoyeon is at the nearby convenience store to get some stuff.

“Would you like to add anything to the other waffle?” “Can I have some peanut butter on the side, please?” The staff nods and fills two small cups with peanut butter, as you’ve requested.

As timing would have it, Seoyeon is walking out of the convenience store right as you’re making your way towards it. “Bag secured, baby,” you show her the plastic bag, “we can go home now.” “Of course you got peanut butter,” she comments. “You know me.”

Seoyeon wraps an arm around yours as the two of you walk towards your car. “Do you want to eat in the car, or?” “No, let’s eat at home.”

-

You sit on the sofa with Seoyeon as soon as you enter your apartment. “Here’s yours, baby,” you hand over the cookie-and-cream waffle. “Oppa, don’t eat all your peanut butter; I want some too later.” You guess that she wants to balance the sweetness of her waffle with some peanut butter, so you make sure you don’t use all of it for yourself.

Your girlfriend only eats about half of her waffle before putting it down on the table. “Bedroom,” she says suddenly, “right meow.” “O…kay?” She urges you to go first and says that she’ll join you after drinking some water. “I’ll be waiting for you, baby.”

You promptly begin scratching your head as soon as you climb onto the bed, confused as to why Seoyeon suddenly wants to go the bedroom so early in the day. “She probably wants to cuddle,” you guess.

“Oh, hi, mister,” she walks into the bedroom with urgency, “you know what I want, don’t you?” “Erm, cuddle?” “Cuddle, he says—God, he’s so clueless sometimes,” she thinks, finding your cluelessness both funny and (mildly) annoying. “Yeah, I do want a cuddle.”

You lie flat in the center of the bed and spread your limbs apart, inviting Seoyeon to take her rightful spot, and once she lies on top of your body, you use your limbs to secure her in place. “Like this, my love?” She wiggles a bit to get you to loosen up a little. “It’s perfect now.”

“Hey, so, uh, why are we here?” Seoyeon grunts. “What, you don’t like cuddling anymore?” “C’mon, baby; I didn’t say that, did I? I’m just curious, y’know.” You’re confused when she begins grinding her crotch against yours. “It was supposed to be a segue to sex, but now that you’re asking, we might as well start now.” “Baby, it’s not even 10 yet.” Seoyeon breaks free from your limbs and moves to sit on your stomach. “Surely you’re not denying me sexual pleasures, are you?” You sigh deeply. “No, I’m not; I would never.”

Seoyeon rewards your correct answer with a steamy kiss that helps you get hard. Unfortunately, though, it’s getting a bit painful since these boxers and joggers aren’t the stretchiest. “Babe,” you call to her, “take off my pants, please.” “Of course, daddy.”

She grabs the waistband of your joggers and hooks her fingers to the inside so that she can pull down your boxers at the same time. “My, my, you’re excited to see me, aren’t you?” You nod as she begins stroking your cock. “You know I’m always excited for you.”

To your absolute surprise, Seoyeon pulls out the cup of peanut butter from her shorts pocket. “Remember this, daddy?” You keep your eyes on her as she coats the tip of your cock with peanut butter and spreads it along your length. “Look at this, daddy,” she keeps stroking your shaft to make sure it’s evenly coated, “this is going to taste so good.”

You let out a big exhale when Seoyeon takes your peanut butter-coated cock in her mouth, and she exclaims at the taste. You jolt a little when you feel her tongue running wild on the underside of your cock. “Oh, God, I won’t last if you do it like that, baby.”

After a few minutes of bobbing her head on your cock, Seoyeon taps your thigh to get your attention. “Wook aw we,” she mumbles. Once you look at her, she starts going down on your cock even further until its entirety disappears in her mouth. “Oh, you’re fucking crazy,” you’re breathless at this point, “fuck, your throat is going to get stretched, baby.”

Seoyeon comes up air after having had her airway blocked by your cock. “That was so good, daddy; the peanut butter added some extra flavors.” You nod weakly. “I-I’m glad, baby.” She climbs onto the bed and lies down next to you. “Your turn, daddy,” she pulls out another cup of peanut butter—the one that you ate out of less than an hour ago—and places it on your chest. “Gladly.”

With half a cup of peanut butter in hand, you pull Seoyeon by her legs towards you until her legs hang past the edge of the bed. “You know where this is going, don’t you?” Seoyeon nods. “Tell me, then, baby.” “Y-you will smear peanut butter over my pink pussy and eat me out until I squirt all over your face.” She rarely talks about herself in such a manner, and hearing it arouses you even more. “That’s correct, baby.”

You get on your knees, and Seoyeon’s shiny pussy is right in front of your eyes. She jolts when you place a finger on her nub. “Aww, sensitive much?” She nods. “P-please, daddy, make me feel good.”

You use your index and middle fingers to pick up some peanut butter and spread it crassly on Seoyeon’s pussy, and she keeps moaning as you do it. “Oh, this is going to taste so good,” you use her line against her. “D-don’t say it like—oh, God, daddy.” Seoyeon immediately clamps your head with her thick thighs, and you swear that they cancel noises better than any fancy Sony headphones in your collection.

You continue administering stimulation on her pussy, earning endless sensual moans from your girlfriend, and at this moment, you’re glad your parents have inherited their love for peanut butter onto you. “D-daddy,” her voice is barely heard, “d-daddy, I’m about to cum.”

You pick up the intensity of the cunnilingus as you’re highly enthused to make her finish; your tongue runs all over her pussy while occasionally sucking and nibbling her nub. Seoyeon places a hand on the back of your head while using the other hand to play with her plump tits for extra stimulation.

You’re surprised when Seoyeon’s juice suddenly hits you in the face, but you manage to open your mouth just in time to catch some of them. Unable to speak, you tap her thigh to get her attention. “W-what?” You swallow her juice that’s pooled in your mouth in one go, and Seoyeon lets out a chuckle. “You’re insane, daddy.”

You use some wet wipes to clean yourself and your girlfriend. “T-thank you, daddy.” You peck her on the forehead. “No, baby, thank you—I hope this is enough for now, though.” She nods. “It should be.”

Seoyeon climbs onto your body when you lie on the bed. “D-daddy,” she moves on to a different subject, “do you—erm, do you like my body?” You’re both startled and confused. “What is that question, babe?” “I mean, I-I’m not as fit as Dayeon-ie—I think her tits are also bigger than mine.” Your jaw drops due to the absurdity. “When have I compared you to her, hm?” “J-just answer the question, daddy.”

You take a deep breath as you formulate an answer for your girlfriend. “First of all, I love your physique because you’re thick on the right spots. Number two, you’re very tight, both the front and the back.” “Really?” You scoff. “Do you not remember how I busted early when we first did anal?” Seoyeon giggles. “That virgin ass was too much for your mighty cock, wasn’t it, daddy?” “Oh, for sure.”

Based on her smile, you estimate that she’s satisfied with your answer. “Baby, look,” you say, “you know I’m not a fan of talking about a girl’s body like that, but I hope you understand what I was trying to say.” She nods. “I-I just needed some boost to my confidence, daddy, and you delivered just that.” You give her a peck on the lips. “I’m glad I could help.”

Seoyeon straightens her posture. “Can I have this, daddy?” She asks as she starts stroking your cock again. “Are you desperate for it?” “Oh, c’mon, you know I can’t have enough of you, and I know you can’t have enough of me.” You chuckle. “That’s one way to put it.”

Your girlfriend lifts her butt of your lap and— “Oh, fuck, you’re in my ass, daddy.” “Yeah?” You can only say one word as you fight her constraining asshole. “You’re so big in my ass, daddy—fuck, you’re stretching me like crazy.” You reach around to spank her. “Ride my cock, baby.” “Y-yes, sir.”

Seoyeon plants her hands on your chest and begins moving up and down at a relaxed pace on your cock, savoring the sensation of getting stretched that is almost too much for her. “N-no one can do it like I can, right, daddy?” You’re about to open your mouth when she piles on another question. “No one can take you in the ass as well as I can, right, daddy?” “Yes, and yes,” you say, “no one can do it like you can, and no one else deserves me like you do.”

Seoyeon rewards your correct answers (again) by picking up the pace of her bounces, and you can’t help but let go of the controls of the session. “Just like that, baby—exactly like that,” you make sure the praises are flowing without hindrance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” curses are flowing out of Seoyeon’s lips without hindrance—quite the contrast with you, but it’s no secret that opposites attract like crazy.

“D-daddy,” she’s showing signs of exhaustion, “t-take over, please—take over and fuck me like you always do.” You pull her into an embrace and roll over so that you’re on top. “Are you going to tap out like last time?” “Hold me down and force me to take it, daddy—I’m your slut.” That’s quite the nasty term, but at this moment, it only adds to your arousal. Your giggle sounds like a movie villain’s. “Alright, bet.”

You hold her legs and fold them over her body. “You’re going to take it like a good slut, aren’t you?” Seoyeon nods. “F-fuck—OH, FUCK ME, DADDY!” The bedroom is getting filled with screams and moans from your girlfriend and heavy grunts from you as you pound her ass without mercy.

Seoyeon’s eyes start rolling backwards as time goes, completely in submission to your cock. A particular thrust messes up your hair, thus disrupting your vision of your girlfriend. You stop momentarily to tidy up, and while you’re at it, you take a moment to check up on her. “You okay, baby?” She nods weakly. “M-my ass is going to be so sore,” she says weakly.

With your hair tidied up, you start moving again at a pace that’s similar prior to the pause. “Ngh, ngh, ngh.” Only these sounds come out of Seoyeon’s mouth as you fuck her ass restlessly to chase an orgasm. In her head, she’s praying that it’s good enough for you, considering that she can’t help but be passive in this position. “Daddy is using me,” these words keep going around in her head endlessly, but she must admit, anal sex offers much more sensation; the pain, the tightness, and the stretch are different than vaginal sex.

With a grunt, you lodge your cock as deep as you can into her ass and blow a massive load right into her. “B-baby,” you’re breathless again, “I love you so, so, so much.” “Have mercy,” she weakly replies. When you retreat from her ass, it leaks out some excess cum onto the bed, but that’s fine, you can just swap the sheets. “Are you okay, baby—are you hurt?” Seoyeon shakes her head. “I-I need some water, though.”

-

You’re sitting at the desk in your bedroom while Seoyeon (who is still naked) is lying in bed and is on her phone, scrolling through social media.

“Babe,” you call to her, “Jihyun-ie is video-calling me.” “Why?” “I don’t know,” you’re as clueless as she is. Seoyeon sits on your lap and tilts the webcam upwards so that it doesn’t pick up her nude form. “Accept it, oppa; I want to hear what she has to say.”

“Oh my God, you’re both here!” You see that it’s actually Hyeonju and Sunwoo, the latter holding a guitar. “Oh, you two are really dating, huh?” You chuckle. “What would I gain from lying to you, Miss Kim?”

“Wait, Seoyeon-unnie,” Sunwoo says, “you’re not naked, are you—I can see your bare shoulder, you know.” Seoyeon looks away momentarily before winking at Sunwoo, and she’s met with exclaims of disbelief from the two girls. “I really shouldn’t have asked that, huh?” “No, but it’s okay; me and oppa are consenting adults.”

“So, to what do we owe this call, girls?” Hyeonju fights the heat in her cheeks and says that her and Sunwoo would like to give you a present in the form of some song covers. “We practiced this afternoon, oppa,” she adds. You look at Seoyeon through the screen and see that she’s excited to hear them sing. “Sounds great—we’re ready when you are.”

Sunwoo starts playing the guitar to signal to Hyeonju that she’s ready, and Hyeonju starts bopping her head as she gets ready to sing. “Feel free to sing along, boss,” she says right before it’s time to sing.

私は私 貴方は貴方と (I am only me, you are only you)

昨夜言ってた そんな気もするわ (I said that last night and still feel the same way)

グレイのジャケットに (You in your gray jacket)

見覚えがある コーヒーのしみ (With that familiar coffee stain)

相変らずなのね (Just as you always are)

ショーウィンドウに 二人映れば (Our reflection in the display window)

You know this song so well; at some point in your university life, you and your friends were obsessed with this song and listened to it so frequently, but Seoyeon doesn’t know what song this is. “I’ll tell you more about it later,” you whisper to her as you get ready to sing along.

Stay with me~

真夜中のドア��たたき (Knocking on Midnight’s door)

帰らないでと泣いた (Begging you to not go home)

あの季節が 今 目の前 (That season when I cried right in front of your eyes)

Stay with me~

口ぐせを言いながら (Saying our favorite words)

二人の瞬間を抱いて (Holding on to our little moment)

まだ忘れず 大事にしていた (I’ll never forget it as long as I live)

You clap your hands loudly in praise and awe when Hyeonju stops singing. “Oh my God, Kim Hyeonju,” you say, your tone high in excitement, “you absolutely killed that cover—goodness me!” “You know that song, boss?” You roll your eyes playfully. “That should be my question—how do you know that song that’s older than your parents, hm?” Hyeonju laughs. “I stumbled upon it when I was scrolling the internet,” she gives a very typical today’s kid’s answer. “I was obsessed with that song when I was in university, you know.”

Seoyeon taps your forearm. “What song was that, oppa?” “Girls, your Seoyeon-unnie doesn’t know what song it was,” you tease her, “the song is called Mayonaka no Door, sweetie, sung by the legendary Miki Matsubara and was released in 1979.” Her jaw drops. “Oh my God, that’s a long time ago.” You nod. “That’s why I wondered how Hyeonju and Sunwoo knew about this song.”

Hyeonju asks for your attention, citing that she and Sunwoo are ready to present the second song cover for you and Seoyeon. “Ah, I know this one,” Seoyeon comments when Sunwoo starts playing her guitar.

네가 날 싫어해하는 걸 알아 (I know that you hate me)

나는 서운해 (I’m sad)

그런 날 왜 너는 못 이해해 (Why can’t you understand me?)

You don’t understand, 난 너를 좋아한다고 (You don’t understand, I like you)

You have a big grin on your face, expecting Sunwoo and Hyeonju to share the lines like the original artists, and true enough, they are.

내가 뭘 잘못했는데 (What did I do wrong?)

내게 왜 그러는데 (Why are you doing this to me)

그럴수록 난 되게 섭섭해 (The more you do that, the sadder I get) Oh I’m so sad

그러니까 슬슬 (So let me slowly) come into your heart

마음 중요한 건 마음 (The important thing is the heart)

결코 네 얼굴만 보고 좋아하는 거 — 아니 아니야 (I’m not liking you just for your face—no, no)

날 미워하는 너의 날이 선 말투까지도 (Even your sharp words that hate on me)

사랑하게 된 거 이게 내 맘이야 (I came to love them, this is my heart)

Just like before, you clap your hands loudly in praise. “Great job, girls,” you add, “wow, you’re great at this.” “We told you we wouldn’t let you down, didn’t we, boss?” You can hear the pride in Sunwoo’s voice. “Oh, that you did, Sunwoo-yah, and trust me when I say that I’m anything but disappointed right now.”

You’re interrupted when Seoyeon suddenly kisses you in front of the girls, and you can hear their loud, surprised exclaim through the video call—this is the first time she has committed a public display of affection with you. “Oh my God, you two are so in love,” Sunwoo comments. “You have no idea,” Seoyeon says after breaking the kiss, “oppa is such an amazing boyfriend for me.” “Promise us you’ll invite us to your wedding, unnie,” Sunwoo adds, thus making Seoyeon laugh. She leans closer towards the camera, presumably to whisper something into the microphone. “Hey, uh, don’t tell anyone yet, but the wedding is closer than you think.” You’re met with another loud scream from the other side of the screen.

You tap her back to get her attention. “You think so, baby?” You speak quietly so that the microphone doesn’t pick up your voice. “Oh, I know so,” she says, “I’m going to make you mine, oppa.” Another grin decorates your face.

“And you’re going to be mine forever, baby girl.”

[anotherwellkeptsecret]

Just a Kiss: 29

Next - Previous - Beginning

Fic written by emmagrant01, which you can read here. This 5+1 fic does have a NSFW ending, which will be limited to Patreon. But the comic and fic itself can be enjoyed in its SFW version which will be posted in full on Tumblr and Twitter. $1 Patrons will be a page ahead and all other patrons will be two pages ahead. This comic will update Tuesdays and Thursdays. Please enjoy!

Patreon support helps me make comics like these. So a huge thank you those who pledge! If you’d like to continue seeing such work, please consider supporting!

Read more comics on my website! Support my work on Patreon, where you can read ahead!

[xoxochb]

hii!! I've searched for percy jackson fics for so long and I just stumbled upon you!! I adore the way you write him. Can I request a clingy percy with an oral fixation who, almost, always asks you to nibble and suck on your fingers? Thank you!! <33

I fear this may be one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written, like, ever…

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“gimme your hand.” demands percy. he takes your hand off your sheet-covered chest and holds it up to his mouth. “can I?”

you purse your lips and sigh. “go ahead, angel.”

happily, he takes your pointer finger in between his lips and begins to nibble gently on it. to allow him more access to you turn on your side facing him and pull the sheets further up your bare skin to provide at least some modesty (though the you proximately five minutes ago hadn’t cared in the least bit what percy had seen of you). suddenly, he bites down roughly on your finger making you yelp and pout.

“percy, sweetheart, don’t bite. I’m a fragile woman.”

he nods understandingly and pops your middle finger into his mouth also, nibbling gently to assure he won’t hurt you again. with your free hand, you place it underneath your head as you watch lovingly as percy practically eats your fingers right off the bone. you sigh contently as your eyes grow heavy. damn percy always wearing you out. you’ll scold him for this when you wake up, for now, you tiredly continue watching him as he now begins sucking them. accidentally, he shoves them too far back and begins coughing violently.

“dumbass,” you remark. he shoots you an unamused glare and sticks your fingers back into his mouth, clearly not learning a lesson from his previous predicament. you take this serene moment and his unchanging actions as a simple chance to admire him. with the lack of light in cabin three, his once bright sea green eyes resorted to a darker, more forest green kind of look, his raven hair tousled from your hands relentlessly tugging and running through it, his cheeks adorned with a light pink hue, and his still ragged breaths, the rise and fall of his chest. you blush feverishly and nuzzle your nose into his shoulder.

he takes your fingers out of his mouth at your action. “you doin’ okay, angel?”

“yeah, ‘m fine. jus’ sleepy.”

“oh…” he holds your hand lower, frowning. presumably, thinking he had been preventing you from sleeping. “sorry.”

“no, continue,” you beckon.

“are you sure?”

percy lets his eyes bore into yours, searching for any signs of discomfort and anger. he finds none, but instead of pupils you have tiny hearts. he smiles.

“mhm. go on.”

and once again, he takes your soft fingers back into his mouth, soon, the nibbling feeling lulling you to sleep

[astral-mariner]

Exclusive preview chapter of my pre-DBZ Saiyans under Freeza fic, Homeworld Lost (read parts 1 & 2 already posted here) below the cut. Content warning for graphic violence and many disturbing themes.

This chapter is the third chapter of Part 9: Between the Stars. A little context: Vegeta, Raditz, and Nappa are en route to their third and final scheduled purge planet after taking a long time to recover from some serious injuries they endured while on their previous mission. It was traumatic for everyone, to say the least, and each character has tried to cope with the various events in his own way. Vegeta is on edge for a very specific reason, but Raditz either doesn't speculate or is intentionally obfuscating this reason. Vegeta is in his early 20s here, Raditz in his late 20s.

***

Part 9: Between the Stars Chapter 3: Cui's Assignment

I turned the knife over in my hands. Squeezed it. Channeled my energy through my fingers till it passed through the prism. The blade appeared. I often wondered if Shardonne had ever learned to control what little power she had or if she instead harvested souls like [SPOILER]. Either way, fidgeting like this alone in my pod, I’d discovered that I could sate the knife’s hunger for life energy.

Not that I would know how to use it beyond this or perform any kind of spiritual surgery. I had, like the coward I was, left [Freeza's healer's] secrets to languish with him in his laboratory. Perhaps Arugala’s mother, my patroness, had taught me the anatomy of our chakras as she had her own children, but I wouldn’t know how to mend a soul any better than I would how to repair a body that I’d dispatched. However expertly I’d done it.

Yet when I awoke in a tank at a nearby station, Zarbon had left the knife tucked into my breastplate where he’d certainly found it. As if he expected me to learn how to use it. I’d figured out how to use and corrupt other devices supposedly beyond saiyan comprehension. So for all his talk of ensuring Vegeta’s death once he'd fulfilled his purpose, he’d nevertheless given me a chance to heal him. Equally possible that he was mocking me. Ultimately, he knew what Freeza and [his healer] meant to do to Vegeta where I didn’t, and he would manipulate all of us to secure his desired outcome.

Fidgeting. The blade flickered dangerously above my wrist. I didn’t want to step out of my pod. We didn’t belong here.

Vegeta’s grim shadow fell across the pod’s red window. Hurrying, I extinguished the blade and shoved it back inside my breastplate. He wouldn’t tolerate any delays, and only gods knew how he might punish me if he caught me with the knife. He’d come close several times. Always watching my whereabouts during our breaks from stasis.

He opened the hatch for me. “Sleep when you’re dead, third-class,” he spat.

I got up. Fit my scouter over my eye.

“Where the fuck is he?”

Nappa.

“I’m sure he’s almost here,” I reassured the prince.

“Gods, almost as useless as you.” He paced restlessly. Back and forth, boots grinding the dust beneath his feet. His fingers tapped and twitched where they gripped his bicep.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

He stopped. His back turned to me, I saw only the subtle bristle of his tightly-wound tail. “Cui”—a deep breath—“has humiliated me for the last time. Let him come to this planet and face me if he dares. After I am through cleansing this planet for him, taking half the time, I’ll throw his dust into the wind.”

“But, this planet…without clearance. Freeza might—”

“Freeza will punish Cui.”

“I don’t think Freeza cares what Cui does.”

Abruptly, Vegeta spun to face me. A flash of violet before I could react. The shot flew over my shoulder to strike a ruin stretched across the horizon. It crumbled to the earth with the roar of falling stone and the scream of metal bending, kicking up clouds of dirt and ashes.

Vegeta continued as if nothing had happened. “Took the Ginyus to subdue this planet.” Pacing again. “Freeza gives us such strange assignments. So very strange… Never was about what the Planet Trade needs a saiyan to fight. When was the last time we fought with honor?”

Fuenghi was a great power, having brought us all to the brink of death, but the prince’s question was rhetorical. I’d learned not to speak out of turn.

He stopped and tapped his scouter. Still searching for Nappa’s signal. “There are always survivors of these purges…” Pulling at his gloves now, adjusting them, wringing his hands together.

If it took the Ginyu Force, we could be in for more than a fight, my mind answered him, presuming he wouldn’t hear. He would not be questioned. Ever since recovering Nappa from the pleasure station, he tolerated so much less.

Everywhere we went, rooms fell silent until our sharp hearing picked up the inevitable mutterings about the massacre. Already Freeza’s scourge, now the prince was the murderer of depraved murderers, more merciless and cruel than any who favored their lawless gathering place. He might’ve worn the titles with pride if not for the disgraceful rumors that came with them.

“Nothing to say, third-class?”

“Yes, it’ll be good to have a real fight,” I agreed despite not having listened. “You don’t need to justify it to me.”

“As if I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t.” And I didn’t need one. A worthy opponent to test his strength, putting Cui in his place—rationalizations for himself more than anyone else. He certainly wasn’t the first of his name to confuse our thirst for battle for a lust for blood.

He blasted at the ground a tail’s length off from where I stood. “You watched him get in his pod, didn’t you? You set up the coordinates yourself.”

“I did. You saw him—he was in his right mind before I initiated any stasis protocols.”

“You sent him somewhere, didn’t you? So you could say I forced you to come. That you weren’t responsible. That I was the one to go off course and defy orders.” He scoffed. “Try one of your lies with Freeza and see where it gets you.”

Nonsensical accusations, but I wouldn’t criticize him. “I swear I didn’t,” I said.

“Pray that he arrives soon, then.”

Even if Vegeta had come alone, consequences would fall on all of us. Our disobedience wouldn’t go unnoticed; taking on Cui’s assignment was meant to draw attention. No matter what Vegeta might’ve done to me, I would’ve refused to reprogram our route under any other circumstance. However, this planet must harbor some secret if Freeza had commanded the Ginyus specifically to purge it. More than mere strength, the assignment had required precision and, above all, trust. So I’d gathered from Cui last we met.

I let out a sigh once my scouter finally alerted me to Nappa’s arrival. He landed not far off, and I hurried to his pod. Better that he faced me first with the prince poised on the edge of wrath.

I opened the hatch for him once assured his vitals were stable. He was still groggy, but he recognized me. “I’m glad you’re all right.” Offered him my hand to help him stand. “Just…do as he says. Vegeta is in rare form.”

He nodded, but his knotted brow betrayed his confusion.

“We’re cleansing the planet,” I explained. “Leveling what’s left of the population centers, tracking down survivors. It wasn’t on our itinerary, so don’t blame yourself for not knowing.”

“Did you… Is this the first time you’ve told me this?”

I shook my head as I found his scouter for him, took his hand, and folded it over the device. I had, in fact, told him repeatedly. “You just woke up. It’s been a while.”

His scouter locked onto Vegeta stalking toward us, and he tensed.

“Are either of you done wasting my time?”

I positioned myself between him and Nappa. “I just sent you the updated maps. Got a hold of them right before we left.”

He narrowed his eyes, but scrolling over the data distracted him sufficiently. “If either of you fall behind,” he said once he’d finished his review, “I will leave you to rot on this godsforsaken rock.”

“You mean for us to stick together?” Nappa asked.

The prince laughed coldly. “If I could trust either of you, I might assign each of you different continents in the interest of time. But the fact of the matter is that I cannot.”

He took off without warning. Nappa and I scrambled after him, relying on our scouters when we couldn’t match his speed. His flight cut an angry gash through the red smog. Distant, rapid blasts thundered across the sky in brilliant flashes on either side of the wound. Tracing his path with the scouter’s map, he left absolutely nothing in his wake for us to destroy. He would do the work of an entire crew in a matter of hours if exhaustion couldn’t prevent him.

The prince thus occupied, I could easily slip away. And Nappa might not even realize I’d left with how he’d been. Compunction’s familiar ache churned beneath my ribs as I imagined him stranded and lost above the wastes. A relief, then, that I hardly knew what to look for. What it would be worth sneaking away to find. If Vegeta left anything behind for the finding.

He fired and fired and fired until he couldn’t keep apace with the planet’s rotation, and night caught up with him. And then even the dazzling crashes of energy grew fewer and farther between. Darkness at last came to rest over the devastation, and my scouter indicated that Vegeta had descended to the surface. The map outlined what remained of a settlement through the obfuscation of smoke.

Once I landed, letting the prince have his distance, an energy scan discovered no survivors. Just a few minuscule power levels likely belonging to animals. Smaller buildings clustered together on the outskirts of an industrial compound. The Ginyus had taken care to destroy the machines, hangars, towers, and ships, but had left the rest well enough intact.

On an instinct, I made way for the rubble. Nappa followed me without comment. Vegeta, meanwhile, continued to stalk along the perimeter of the settlement, moving with silent intent. Masking, perhaps, a need for rest. Whatever he pursued, I couldn’t stop him, and it made no difference to me so long as he gave me enough time to pick through the debris before disintegrating it.

Glints of green from my scouter’s glow reflected across generators, glass amalgam, new scouter chips, command boxes, adapted prisms—all recognizable, but each with features slightly different from those laid out in the plans Freeza had gifted me those two moons ago. These were more advanced. Only at the Imperial Academy itself had I come across such technology. And this was at some remote factory—hardly what the planet’s occupants must’ve kept for their ports and capitals.

They would’ve traveled far and known much. Too much. I reached down and sifted through the scouter chips until I’d isolated a few that heat and dirt hadn’t rendered useless. These I slipped inside my breastplate near the stolen knife. In all likelihood, the chips didn’t store any sensitive information, but I couldn’t leave them and wonder.

I looked over my shoulder. Nappa had wandered off. I spun, then tapped my scouter when I couldn’t see him anywhere.

A sigh of relief when the scouter highlighted his silhouette behind a shipwreck. Or not quite a shipwreck, but rather the spilled guts of a newly constructed Planet Trade flagship. One of its landing claws held him sitting upright. He looked up from his hands when I approached him.

“Here, you’ll need this,” I said, retrieving his discarded scouter for him.

He took it, fit it, and squinted at the display. “What time is it?”

“Hard to say, but it’s been hours. I’m tired too.”

He picked himself up, refusing all help, and scanned the terrain of the settlement. “I don’t remember this planet from the briefings.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “We took Cui’s cleansing assignment. A detour so we could get here before his crew did. The prince’s idea.”

“He’s out that way.” He took a step in the same direction.

I gripped his arm before he could take off. “Nappa, we just need to get through this without fucking anything up. He put both of us in tanks last time, and he was already furious with you for being late.”

He hung his head. “It’s because of—”

“It’s because of the drug. I know you took some of it with you. And you won’t get better unless you stop taking it.” The last statement I wasn’t so sure of, but I needed to sound sure in case it were true.

“You took it too.”

“I—” I had no excuse for him, and he would know if I lied. He’d seen into my mind just as I’d seen into his all that time ago. “Once,” I said finally. “And you must’ve seen what’s happened with Vegeta too. So you know—maybe better than anyone—that he needs us to stay—”

An explosion cut off the rest. My arm whipped to shield my eyes as heat and hurled scrap crashed towards us.

A few scrapes here and there, but Nappa and I sustained no real damage. The scouter detected no power levels of any significance aside our own. I had to assume that Vegeta had grown weary of this place and would annihilate us with it if we lingered. No more blasts followed, however, and the ruins fell again into the obscurity of night.

The prince remained where he was, and we followed his energy. We heard him before we spotted the sparks blazing around his fists. Shouting.

“Freeza sent his special forces to destroy the likes of you? If you have any honor left, show me your real power.”

I directed Nappa to land at a cautious distance. Vegeta’s energy lit a gleam of terror across the furred creature’s face.

“If—if you have a ship, we’ll go. Take whatever you want!” it stammered. “W-we gave your people the maps already!”

Vegeta laughed. “I don’t give a damn about any of your maps. Either die a warrior’s death, or meet an end worse than hers.” He channeled more energy into his right hand and pointed it to illuminate a spot some tail lengths off.

There lay the mangled body of another creature. Several of six limbs twisted and broken. One snapped above the elbow, only soft flesh keeping the rest of the arm attached. A black, bloody mess of organs tangled beneath the ribs. Agony still contorted the face.

A shriek.

“What, never seen a battlefield before?” He blasted next to the creature and cackled as it dove into the dirt to dodge it. “Guess not. Hid from the purge too like the cowardly scum you are.”

The prince circled round to his victim’s side. The creature trembled too much to stand and couldn’t answer him apart from whimpers and sobs.

“Pathetic.” He shoved his boot into the creature’s spine. “Last chance to fight back. Show your strength.”

Turning away, I glanced toward Nappa. “I don’t think Freeza sent the Ginyu Force because these people were strong,” I said.

He stared blankly into the sky, smoke blotting out the stars. He was always worse when Vegeta lashed out. There was nothing to be done.

“Don’t think you’re going to fight,” the prince scorned. “Pissed yourself instead—I can smell it on you.”

A hoarse scream followed the deep crack of a limb wrenched from its socket. Pain’s memory echoed through my shoulders, numbness through my fingers. Vegeta had done the same to me when his blows left me shivering and useless. Warm-blooded, the creature must suffer similarly, and though we couldn’t let it live for Freeza to find, its misery served no purpose.

I braced myself before facing Vegeta once more. Before bearing witness to the torture he could easily turn on me if anger mastered him. “They’re just weaklings,” I shouted. “A waste of your time. Let’s get this over with and get off this planet.”

He dropped the creature with a snarl. “I don’t take orders from you, third-cl—”

A bolt of red struck his armor in between his shoulder blades. From a blaster deadly enough to pierce Planet Trade gear, yet ineffective in harming someone of the prince’s power level. He whipped around where he stood in search of the sniper, hands ready with charges.

A pair of smaller beings lingered a second too long before disappearing around a wall’s corner.

Vegeta kicked the creature at his feet. “Are those…your children?”

“No!” A plea rather than a denial.

“They—aha—are going to watch you die.” He tapped his scouter, isolating the trace power levels instantly. He vanished, my eyes hardly able to track him, and the two children had no hope of escape.

“Nn…” The presumed father squirmed towards me. Supplicant, he stretched one trembling hand out to me.

I took aim for his head.

“Aren’t you going to save him?”

Fired.

I didn’t process what Vegeta had said or why until it was too late. My shot had stricken the child who’d dove to protect his father from me. Now he wept over the little body.

I gathered energy into my hand. “These people are a waste. Just kill them.”

Vegeta answered my charge with one of his own. The child he held by the neck didn’t understand that he meant it for me and squirmed as far away as it could. “Defying me, third-class? How sorry you must be that Freeza won’t let me grant your deathwish. Always tempting me… I can control myself, unlike you.” His grip on the child’s throat stifled a scream.

I stood my ground. “Tell yourself whatever you want. But you won’t humiliate Cui by taking twice as long on his assignment.”

He fixed his sharp eyes on mine, sneering, as he leaned more of his weight and strength into his heel until his boot crushed spine and ribs with an unmistakable, wet crunch. “Worthless,” he snarled over the creature’s gargling.

A quick death, at least, if not an easy one. Consequences damned, I vowed that the child would receive an end just as swift even if I had to intervene. All four eyes tightly shut, tears streamed into the dark fur lining its face. Its lips quivered over clenched teeth, and trilled whimpers escaped through them as Vegeta released its throat to embrace the child from behind. Almost as tall as he was, the prince’s mouth was level with its ear.

“Does it make you strong, watching them die?” he said.

I’d heard those words before, and my steps faltered.

“It’s been so long since I’ve fought someone worthy… So long, lying awake, restless…” Abruptly, he let go of the child. “Show me you aren’t as useless as the rest.”

Its limbs buckled instantly, and it tumbled forward into the remains of its father and sibling. Away from Vegeta, I had a clear shot. I awaited only a slip of the prince’s attention. His speed would thwart me otherwise, and he’d deflect the blast.

The child, however, did not merely lie shocked and defeated. Somehow, even with a mouth full of its father’s blood, it summoned the will to rise up from the ground. I knew very little about the child’s race, but the look it turned on Vegeta was one of pure hatred. “Why?” it spat at him.

The prince answered with a crooked grin. “As if I could tell you why the gods have forsaken you.”

“Gods have nothing to do with it.” The child managed to stand. A rise in power level did not accompany it. “You did this.”

“Who are the gods but whoever is strongest?” Again, he seized the child by the neck. “And I am stronger than you. I’m stronger—haha—a Super Saiyan, the strongest in the universe!”

The [SPOILER] I’d seen had been no more than a dream. I was sure of it now. Many times had Vegeta lied, hidden, said one thing and done another, and exhibited more arrogance than his actual strength warranted. After all that’d happened, I understood why. My heart ached for him still. But as much as I’d denied it ever since he’d turned on me on that empty planet, I was beginning to recognize his madness for what it was. And because his sanity was slipping, I knew his defenses would slip too when I finally aimed and took my shot.

Blasted cleanly through its skull, the child died immediately. The body convulsed for a few seconds before going limp. Still gripping the neck while he raved, Vegeta seemed not to realize what’d happened.

“There is nothing but your own strength. The gods gave you a mother and father just to wound you when they were taken away. Better now that they’re gone, and you see the truth. I’ve set you free. Does it make you strong?”

He shook the body, rattled it. He’d come to assume soon enough that he’d spoiled his torture too soon. The corpse could fascinate him only so long. I left him with it to see where Nappa had gone.

He’d found the children’s hiding place behind the crumbled wall. He sat, rocking back and forth, muttering to himself. Something about Savoy. I couldn’t stand to listen. I leaned down and struck him hard across the face.

“We have to get out of here. You’ve got to snap out of it.”

He shook his head, massaged his cheek, and seemed to recognize me when our eyes met.

“Vegeta just needed a moment to rest, but he’ll be ready to set out again soon. He’ll put us in tanks again if we fall behind.”

“Raditz…where are we?”

I took a deep breath and turned my back to him before I could curse in his face. “Fucking gods damn it all,” I ground out. “Shit. Fuck. Can’t fucking take this anymore. Can’t fucking do it.” All of us were mad in our own way, and our next assignment would end in disaster. And all I had was I knife I couldn’t use, empty scouter chips, and connections who meant me more harm than anything else. Vegeta had been right about one thing—the gods wouldn’t help us either. They never had.

“Nappa,” I said, facing him again, “once we leave, we’re going to go through your things and get rid of whatever is left of that drug. Let me do it, or Vegeta will.”

He frowned. Perhaps he hadn’t even understood. Better, then, if he was too far gone to interfere.

“Just follow me, all right?” I took him by the arm. “It’s just a cleansing assignment we took from Cui. There’s not much left. We just have to finish up and leave.”

“Where’s Vegeta?”

“Down that way. Found some survivors and took care of them.”

His brow knotted after he tapped his scouter. Another tap. “He’s gone.”

Fucking gods, I refused to utter aloud. “Of course he is.” I locked onto his energy before he could fly too far ahead. “We’ve got to go.”

[aftgficrec]

Can you please suggest fics where neil and bee have more interactions. Or even ones about andrew and bee talking about neil or anything else

Btw I really really appreciate everything yall do! God bless you.

Here is what we found for you. -A

Neil/andreil talk to Bee:

Neil goes to therapy here

‘we softly stir the violence’ and ‘Healing’ series parts 1 & 3 here

‘“I wish I'd never…”’ here

‘Andrew Minyards Crystal’ here

‘pain our brain has made’ here (updated)

‘not to blame for falling’ series and ‘sidelines’ here

‘on the tip of my tongue (say something)’ series here (completed)

‘Andrew and Neil's guide to getting better’ series here

‘True Love Waits’ series here

‘Cyberstalking’ here

‘Promises’ here

‘A Taste of Your Own Medicine’ here

‘The Massive Continuity of Ducks’ and ‘Ghost of You’ here

‘A collection of Andreil one-shots’ ch 3 here

‘I Don't Know’ here

‘The Destination Was Always Forever’ (updated), ‘Minyard-Josten Rivalry’ (updated), ‘sunrise, abram’ series, ‘and in a flash, it's gone.’ series part 2, and ‘Stay Where I Can Reach’ here

Andrew talks to Bee about Neil:

previous ask here

‘Unspoken’ here

‘AFTG Drabbles’ parts 1 & 8 here

‘Paper Cut Hearts’ here

‘the shuffling of cards’ here

‘words can't warm the windows of my soul’ here

‘The Hand That Needs Me’ here

‘Mother Mannequin’ here

‘Anything’ here

‘the icarus to your certainty’ here

‘No straighter path than to struggle’ here

‘Can we can pretend like we're (not) in love?’ here

Neil Josten is Not Fine by Anonymous [Rated T, 3362 Words, Complete, AFTG Then & Never 2024]

After weeks of nightmares and an embarrassing discovery, Neil finally decides to pay Betsy a visit.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: nightmares, tw: bedwetting

i'll take anything you have (if you could throw me a line) by ifitmeanslosingyou [Rated M, 923 Words, Complete, 2024]

the sunrise can be pretty, neil thinks, but instead of the pinks and oranges washing him with ease, neil can’t help the panic at the thought that he’s been up here for longer than he planned to he wonders if anyone has even realized he left the dorms in the first place, wonders if andrew even looked when neil left the bedroom, wonders if he gave up, wonders if he finally came to his senses and realized neil was more trouble than he’s worth wonders if the roof of the court is high enough that the fall would kill him day 31: asking for help | therapy | “i’m alive, i’m just not well”

tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced self harm

help, I've lost myself again (but I remember you) by abitsillygoofy [Not Rated, 5320 Words, Complete, 2024]

“Neil we have to talk about it,” Betsy said “I don’t think so” Neil replied “Nope, not happening” He popped the p at the end trying to make the woman mad at him. “You just tried to kill yourself, so I think we have to have this talk” Betsy didn’t seem bothered by his act and kept her nice, neutral facial expression, but unlike on his session looked worried too. or Neil wakes up in the hospital after his suicide attempt and has to face what he did.

tw: suicide attempt, tw: self harm, tw: blood

keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?) by phan_taloon [Rated M, 15415 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

Previously recced here

AU where Neil never met the Foxes, with a little less mafia and a little more pain for Neil when he ends up captured by Nathan for months, and has to deal with the consequences by himself. He ends up in treatment for chronic pain with opioids, and let's just say opioid use is tricky when you're alone and in pain; one thing can lead to another more easily than it seems.

tw: drug addiction, tw: drug overdose, tw: withdrawal, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: vomit

an acquired taste the asbestos is lovely by cyanica [Rated M, 6617 Words, Complete, 2024, Locked]

“What did you take?” Andrew demands. Neil wonders if Andrew will taste all that is wrong with Neil when he kisses him. He wonders if Andrew will recognize it. Andrew knows what it is to hurt himself, and this must be familiar. It’s deja vu, Neil thinks, if only a little bit worse, a little more terrible. Neil shakes his head, groaning into the toilet, “I don’t want to tell you.” Andrew pulls out his phone, and Neil can already hear it dialling when he says, “You can tell the paramedics.” Or; “Cigarettes,” Neil says. “I ate your cigarettes.”

tw: self harm, tw: overdose, tw: pica, tw: eating disorders, tw: vomit, tw: blood, tw: mental breakdown, tw: implied/referenced abuse

If it means protecting you (I’ll pay my dues) by Intangibel (duskbutterfly) [Rated T, 125462 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2023]

Previously recced here

What if the threat of Aaron being charged with murder was more significant and Neil found out that he could prevent Andrew from having to be at the trial if he were to testify. What would he be willing to sacrifice to achieve that? What if instead of refusing to testify for Aaron, Neil decides to make a deal with the FBI to become their witness against his father if they’ll backstop his current identity. He thinks it means signing his death warrant and losing the Foxes. Betsy, Aaron and the Foxes are determined to convince him it doesn’t have to be all or nothing, his father’s people are coming for him and that’s not even starting on what Andrew will have to say about Neil choosing to martyr himself.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: child abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: scars, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: homophobia, tw: conversion camp reference, tw: reenactment therapy with noncon

The Sun Still Rises by mordax [Rated E, 474451 Words, Incomplete, Updated Oct 2024]

Previously recced here

Somewhere on the road, Mary Hatford gets pregnant with her second child. When she passes, she leaves behind not only Neil, but his toddler brother. Survival is difficult without also raising a kid. Worn out and desperate, Neil still somehow ends up at Palmetto, only this time, he brings his four-year-old brother with him.

tw: violence, tw: anxiety, tw: panic attacks,  tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: drug use, tw: involuntary sedation, tw: reenactment therapy with noncon

NB: find fanart for this fic by @/elidanus on twitter here

Ain’t it fun by jemejem [Rated T (we say M) 30672 Words, Complete, 2018]

Neil can't sleep. Andrew can't feel. High school is going well for the both of them.

tw: homophobia, tw: mental breakdown, tw: anxiety, tw: depression, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: suicide attempt, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: scars, tw: ptsd, tw: psychological trauma, tw: flashbacks

I been here all along (so why can't you see?) by alexcherry [Rated G, 8691 Words, Complete, 2021]

Andrew leans on the counter beside Neil's thigh. "Where do you want to go, Josten? What favor do you need from me?" Neil looked at Andrew and steeled himself. "I want you to come with me to the next therapy session with Betsy posing as my boyfriend." "Like one," Andrew thought for a moment. "Couple therapy?" Neil perked up. "Yes! Exactly, and then we see how long it takes her to find out we're not connected at all."

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced murder

If You Need Shelter by AfraidOfBananas [Rated M, 2642 Words, Complete, 2021]

“The boy is staring at Neil with a startled expression like he’s just seen a ghost. Well, maybe he has. Neil hasn’t felt alive for a very long time.” Or.....Neil meets Andrew while he’s on the run

Family by BlueJay26 [Not Rated, 9420 Words, Complete, 2021, Locked]

The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. Three adults who certainly proved this was true, and their (sort of) children who realised a family isn't always linked by blood. Also known as, how Abby, Bee and Wymack earned their family's love and trust.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: internalized homophobia

Art

Abby and Betsy art by @rainbowd00dles 

Betsy 💕💕 art by @neroholik

Mom and Dad and Mom art by @llstarcasterll

Betsy and Abby 💖 art by @jeannemaybedarc

Betsy Dobson cosplay by @/toobeetofunction on instagram

@drbetsydobson instagram account/moodboard

[campbyler]

how developed is the plot of a chapter before you write it? like do you tend to write a loose outline of the plot before hand and fill in extra details later? or is everything thought out, in order, before your first draft? just curious how other people go about their writing processes. also saw the twip tuesday and got so excited!!💕💕 amazing as always.

pretty much every major scene for every chapter has been thought up and outlined since the beginning! it’s a long fic with a lot going on so continuity regarding major plot points or themes has always been very important to us. however, pretty much every chapter has also had some gaps in the master outline where we haven’t thought of something in advance, or we’ve left those sections open to allow for some more creative liberty depending on how the rest of the chapter/the preceding chapters have turned out. we sometimes also have a concept for a scene planned that we scrap and replace, maybe because it feels repetitive to something we’ve already written or it just doesn’t really fit the direction the previous chapters have steered us towards. and sometimes we literally come up with something As we are drafting and text each other about it to get some on-the-fly input and feedback. basically the super important stuff has been pretty set in stone for a while, but there are also times when we don’t know we are going to write something until we’re basically already writing it lol. hope this helps! so glad you enjoyed the snip :-)

[hunters-vigil]

The Archon's Baby - Chapter 7 - The Pilgrimmage Begins

Previous Chapter

request from ao3: Make one where they have a child but the female character doesn't tell Mavuika that she is expecting a child and distances herself from Mavuika please 🙏🙏

warnings: warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, implied suggestive stuff but nothing actually happens, traveller uses they/them pronouns anyway but I haven't picked which twin is here yet... talks about the dead (Mavuika's sister)

Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3. Reader is not the traveller. Reader's adoptive sisters are Chasca and Chuychu.

Chasca's character teaser made me want to sob so you get this early.

The Pilgrimage started in two days, and you hadn't spoken to Chasca since the argument, while Chuychu came to check on you not long after Xilonen left for her meeting with the archon.

"She's cooling down. Just give her some time. It took a lot for her not to storm the Speaker's Chambers..." Chuychu admitted with a tired sigh.

"Well, I need her not to charge in there any time soon. Mavuika invited me to stay with her instead of the Inn. I'd rather not have a heart attack from her storming in while I'm asleep." You replied, playing with Chuychu's fingers, that tensed at the moment you admitted to staying with Mavuika.

"That guy from the Masters of the Night-Wind, Oronon, asked about you. Said you weren't home when Ifa went to drop round some vegetables and aphid honey." Your sister changed the subject, her eyes wandering around the room, before settling on what you had been working on when she arrived.

"I forgot about that. Ifa started bringing food over after that saurian Chasca was fostering for him ate my plants." You confessed, shaking your head at the memory. It was only when you realised what Chuychu was looking at that you moved your hands to shield it.

"It's not, it's not finished!" you let out a groan, your attempt to hide the project were halfhearted at best, but your sister just huffed at you. She treated you differently to Chasca, while she would pick fights with her older sister to make her blow off steam and watch her abyssal illness, she was softer with you. She had to be, ever since Chasca made you cry that one time when you were all a lot younger.

But that time was resolved with food, and promises to play together. Now, Chuychu was unsure how to resolve the issues. Chasca wasn't even mad at you anymore, she was just uncomfortable with the situation at hand. Her youngest sister and the pyro archon together... even Chuychu hadn't expected that, but you had been spending a lot of time with the archon back when she first became the pyro archon...

"It's a record. You, Chasca, me, our parents... Mavuika is there too, but I'm making a separate one for her. She deserves it, with everything that rests on her. Natlan's fate rests on her shoulders, it's a lot..." you trailed off, realising you were toeing the line of what nobody but the six ancient name bearers and Mavuika should know.

"You're preserving her legacy, and our family's legacy. Has something happened with Mavuika? You're not usually this sentimental when it comes to history, and that's saying something-"

"Do not blame hormones, I'm only eight weeks- can we continue this conversation after I go pee?"

Chuychu held back a chuckle, nodding as you hurried off to the bathroom.

"Chuychu? I have not seen you in a while. Do you have business with me, or are you here to see your sister?" Mavuika's voice in the speaker's chamber should not be uncommon, but the god of war had not been expecting Chuychu in her private chambers, not without you present at least.

"She's in the bathroom." Your older sister held back a grimace at her voice, trying not to show disrespect to her archon, but it was hard now she knew of another side to her, "Apologies, archon, for my tone."

"It's fine, Chuychu. I know it was not what you or your sister expected when finding out your youngest sister was dating someone. Let alone, having a baby." Mavuika smiled softly as you walked in, heading into her awaiting arms.

The silence was almost awkward, well, it was awkward for Chuychu, until she noticed how at peace you were with your lover.

"I'm going to head out and check on my patients. Treat my baby sister right, archon. And you, drink some water. You've been drinking enough xocoatl that you've probably surpassed Xilonen." Chuychu bid the two of you farewell, giving you a warning look as Mavuika chuckled. Clearly your xocoatl craving was getting out of hand.

"I'll see to it." Mavuika stated, much to the look on your face that disagreed with the taste of water at the moment.

"Water doesn't taste good." You pouted, your fingers playing haphazardly with the zipper of Mavuika's bodysuit.

"My love, what are you doing?" Mavuika hummed in amusement as you continued to play with her zipper.

"You smell better than the food Chuychu tried to give me... and I missed you, we finally have some time to ourselves before the Pilgrimage in two days..." you trailed off, but whatever you had in mind, was not what Mavuika expected, as she ended up with you asleep with your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

She watched as your eyelids fluttered, hearing your soft breathing, in and out, in and out...

"Feels too early for so many people to know..." your voice interrupted her thoughts, burying your face in her exposed collarbone, having tugged the zipper down enough for the skin-on-skin contact to be enough for you.

Mavuika hummed, gently brushing an eyelash from your cheek.

"Can I stay here? During everything... I feel safer here, like the flame is watching over, or it's you, I feel safe around you. Maybe both?" your half-awake rambles trailed off as you frowned to yourself, missing how Mavuika's face lit up at what you said.

"You may stay as long as you want, my love. Besides, it's not like you aren't well-versed with your surroundings here." Mavuika chuckled, recalling how many times the two of you had been around the stadium together, whether you were meeting for official meetings, sneaking in between her meetings, or spending the night in the archon's bed...

"Hehe, well... at least you can't get me any more pregnant..." you mumbled, knowing that would be a poor defensive argument to have with your sisters, if it came to it. Shaking your head, you changed the subject, "there are rumours of the golden outlander coming to Natlan next... it's that time of year again."

"I see... honestly, I have been awaiting the day with grave importance. I plan to give offer them Natlan's highest form of hospitality, after everything they have done in each nation so far. The Traveller is a tremendously skilled warrior after all."

"The Traveller? Is that what everyone calls them? Is everyone just being lazy and not calling them their actual name? That's like calling our child, 'the child' instead of their name... but it's too early to think about that." You began to complain, but your voice became muffled as you buried your face in Mavuika's bare chest, much to her amusement.

"Every rumour and story we've heard from anyone visiting seems to refer to them by a different title." Mavuika agreed, her breath hitching as you moved to press a kiss to her collarbone, continuing down to her sternum. Her hand cradled the back of your head, preventing you from going further, much to her reluctance.

"We should be having dinner soon, and unfortunately, my love, eating me does not count." The pyro archon listened to her better judgement this time, despite the pout on your lips at your activities being ceased.

"Am I not allowed to indulge myself in a snack?"

"And you once called me the Archon of Horniess..." Mavuika grumbled, shifting slightly to try reduce the hot feeling flickering across her body. You got under her skin so easily, just from a few kisses-

"Can we have chocolate?" you watched Mavuika's face crinkle up in confusion.

"For dinner?"

You hummed in thought, "with xocoatl?"

"Ah, you heard Chuychu's warning about that, my darling-"

"Ugh, fine. I'll have a forest of colour salad!" you grumbled, folding your arms as you tried to rack your brain for foods you could eat. So many Natlanese recipes had ingredients that you had been warned against...

"What about blazed meat stew?" your lover enquired, tapping her finger to her chin as she tried to think over options.

"Heartburn..." you winced at the thought, giving up and laying down on Mavuika's chest again.

///

The day of the pilgrimmage was almost here, with teams gathering in the stadium entrance to sign up. Preparations were underway, while Mavuika was out and about, Chasca and Chuychu were also busy, leaving you to peacefully sleep in Mavuika's bed after your check-up. Although it was technically a conflict of interest for Chuychu to be your doctor, as your sister, but the situation was sensitive, and the first trimester was full of risk, your sister's goal was as low a risk pregnancy as she could give you. She kept you calm when Mavuika couldn't...

The rumours of the golden outlander and their silver floating companion reached you that evening, when Mavuika returned to join you in bed, holding you close as you listened to her talk about her day.

"I have ensured that they will serve many foods you can safely pick from at the banquets for the Pilgrimmage. If you wish to attend, of course... I know you have had little energy recently." Mavuika's fingers gently drew patterns on your back, listening to each breath you took. In and out. In and out.

"I miss Chasca... Chuychu is still around but, she says Chasca will calm down, I just hope it's before the baby is born, but that's so far from now..." you began to ramble quietly, before your thoughts changed, "I'm glad you're here..." you whispered, eyes cracking open to look at Mavuika's sunshine eyes, a soft smile on her face as you gazed up at her.

"I am too, my darling." Mavuika whispered, pressing kiss after kiss to your face, peppering you in them as you began to giggle and squirm.

"You and your sisters will settle down again... from what I can tell, Chasca isn't angry at either of us anymore, judging from how she was cordial when I saw her. I think, although I can make no assumptions, I believe Chasca isn't sure how to approach you after everything..." Mavuika theorised, her heart aching at these sisterly issues. It reminded her of Hine, and how Mavuika had not been there to defend her sister from possible suitors.

Your silence led to Mavuika glancing down, noticing how you were looking up at her with a soft expression, "my sisters and I... we remind you and Hine."

Your archon hummed, closing her eyes as you began to play with her hair.

"My love, you've stopped eating the Saurian treats that were given to you, right?" you felt Mavuika tense up, her body flushing with heat as she realised she had been caught.

"Uh, yes, I went out to find some wild saurians to give them some, since they were a little dry and-"

"Baby, those were for baby saurians... which I found out after dipping them in xocoatl." You admitted, gaining Mavuika's attention as her eyes widened.

"You ate them too?"

"There's nothing in them that could affect me, Chuychu checked, then she realised they were for saurians after." Biting your lip as Mavuika began to chuckle, her nose brushing yours as she leaned in to show you affection.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

///

"My heart, it's the morning. The Pilgrimmage begins soon. How do you feel?" Mavuika gently woke you, pressing her lips to your forehead as you whined, reaching out for her in determination for her to come back to bed.

"How do you feel?" your voice was hoarse, full of sleep as you sat up, regretting it as the nausea hit you, flailing with the covers to hurry to the bathroom of Mavuika's chambers.

"I guess that answers that question..." Mavuika muttered to herself as she rubbed your back comfortingly, having gotten used to your morning sickness by now. If you were lucky, it would taper off by the end of your first trimester, but you had to get there first.

"Let's get you sorted... it doesn't start yet, so I have time for you, before my duties as the archon." Mavuika cooed, helping you from the floor once you were finished, letting her help you get ready before she had to head out.

There was an offer to sit in the audience of the stadium, so you decided to attend the opening ceremony, sitting down with a cushion beneath you as you waited, hoping to get a glimpse of your sister, who would be competing today.

"Hello! Paimon's Paimon, and this is the Traveller, are we okay to sit with you?" a floating silver creature asked, as an individual cloaked in gold stood behind her, looking at you.

"Sure. It's nice to meet you both. I'm-" you cut yourself off, spotting Mavuika stand up from her throne, a throne that made you blush to think about. It was well hidden however, as the swirling pyro energy heated up the stadium, your lover displaying her use of the flames, as her hair ignited, and she began her speech.

"Skill, strategy, fortune, form... many factors influence strength, but victory never lies. The Pilgrimmage is not merely a trial to determine the strongest among us, but also a stage upon which to showcase your individual growth. Today marks the beginning of yet another legendary saga - one written in the triumphs of the victors! So, without further ado... let the games begin!" Mavuika announced as a horn sounded.

"So, that's the pyro archon? Is it just Paimon or does she seem kinda intimidating?" Paimon enquired, frowning at the amused smile on your face.

"She's been practicing that speech for a while now. You're free to talk to her, just leave it until after the games." You interrupted Paimon talking about how Mavuika was an ordinary person before becoming the Archon. To you, Mavuika was extraordinary... Archon or not.

"Oh, look! It's Kachina and the others!" Paimon shouted, but your eyes lingered on Chasca, and the Flower-Feather clan members you were avoiding, who were chanting her name.

"Um... hey, golden outlander, I know everyone calls you 'the Traveller' but... anyway, could you help me up please? I need to pee again..." you felt your face burn red as the legendary blonde traveller raised an eyebrow, but didn't hesitate to help you up, watching you walk away. The only thing on the Traveller's mind... 'again'?

Mavuika kept an eye on you in the crowds, watching as you were helped up and headed off, almost confusing her until she realised where you were heading. "Of course... the bathroom." She chuckled to herself, before redirecting her attention to the finishing teams stage. Chasca's team had won, so had Kinich's, Iansan's... and the team of Mualani and Kachina too.

///

(a/n: also is anyone interested in other fics, I have at least two written that I haven't posted, one is for Jeht x AFAB!reader, one is Arlecchino x gn!reader, another is Xilonen x AFAB!reader but that's not finished… I also wrote a Mavuika request I had. Arguably it's not so detailed that you could say it fits in this universe but it can be read separately.)

[galadhir]

I mean, I would say that if, in a letter, Tolkien is talking about Galadriel specifically, that's because he's talking about Galadriel specifically.

He's not talking about Celeborn or their relationship, or whether they powershare in Lorien or anything like that. He's just talking about Galadriel. He can in fact talk about Galadriel on her own without saying anything at all about Celeborn (and he often does.)

I have no problem in agreeing that Celeborn is often overlooked when it comes to Tolkien's meta and notes, and it's evident that Tolkien didn't take the same amount of time thinking about him and what the exact shape of C&G's relationship is, as he did thinking about Galadriel.

Going back to the Letter 246 quote you use as evidence of Galadriel's thirst for power and domination, the very same quote says:

But this the Great had well considered and had rejected, as is seen in Elrond's words at the Council. Galadriel's rejection of the temptation was founded upon previous thought and resolve.

So yeah, nobody's arguing that she has a power hungry darkside, but Tolkien himself says that she rejects it.

Anyways, I don't think that we two will agree, because you are basing your opinions on Tolkien's letters and I'm basing them on the published books, where Celeborn is Prince of Doriath (The Silmarillion,) and where Lothlorien's March Wardens report to Celeborn, and it is Celeborn who says whether the Company of the Ring will receive Lorien's aid or not. (The Lord of the Rings.)

See where I've previously argued about this in 'Prince Valium? (A book-based character study of Celeborn).'

Tolkien had a lot of thoughts about his universe - he was probably rotating it in his head until the day he died - and they change and evolve and contradict each other, and they're a great source of ideas for fics. We will never know for sure what a full JRRT Silmarillion would have looked like if he wrote it. But it's the book we got and so I accept it as the canon for the First and Second ages. And Lord of the Rings was fully written and published by JRRT, so that seems like solid ground as my Tolkien canon for the Third Age.

Which means that if you rely on evidence in a letter and I rely on evidence in one or other of the published books, I'm going to continue believing that I'm right. Even without the fact that your evidence doesn't actually say what you say it does.

Sidetracked myself again, damn. What I was saying was it seems like we will never agree, so perhaps we should agree to disagree. I have left the tag now, so I shouldn't see or interfere with anything else in there any more. I shouldn't really have weighed in on this, but old habits die hard.

Galadriel in Season 1-2 of “Rings of Power”: Valiant, Prideful and the Darkness Within

Galadriel was born during the Years of the Trees, on Valinor, the only daughter of High King of the Noldor, Finarfin, sister to three brothers. She was named “Artanis” by her father, and “Galadriel” (Sindarin for “Maiden crowned with gleaming hair”) is the name she took after marrying prince Celebron, in Doriath (Middle-earth).

In her youth, Galadriel was known for her proud, strong and self-willed temperament, and for the unmatched beauty of her hair. She had the golden hair of her kin, but hers was particularly striking, shot with silver, and beautiful. And so much so that Fëanor was inspired by how the light of the Two Trees of Valinor caught her hair to craft the Silmarils. Three times he asked her for a few strands of it, and three times Galadriel refuse him. Galadriel couldn’t stand Fëanor and saw the growing darkness in him; most likely because it was the same as within herself.

Tolkien describes Galadriel as “of Amazon disposition”, “strong of body, mind and will, a match for both the loremasters and the athletes of the Eldar in the days of their youth”, and she would “bound up her hair as a crown when taking part in athletic feats”. Her mother called her Nerwen, “man-maiden”.

Departure from Valinor

Galadriel is adventurous, ambitious “and like her brother Finrod, of all her kindred the nearest to her in heart, she had dreams of far lands and dominions that might be her own to order as she would without tutelage [from the Valar]”.

Galadriel, the only woman of the Noldor to stand that day tall and valiant among the contending princes, was eager to be gone [from Valinor]. No oaths she swore, but the words of Fëanor concerning Middle-earth had kindled her heart, and she yearned to see the wide untrodden lands and to rule there a realm at her own will. For the youngest of the House of Finwë she came into the world west of the Sea, and knew yet nought of the unguarded lands. Morgoth’s Ring

In Unfinished Tales, Tolkien tells us Galadriel wanted to leave Valinor and travel to Middle-earth to exercise her talents; being brilliant in mind and swift in action she had early absorbed all of what she was capable of the teaching which the Valar thought fit to give the Eldar’, and she felt confined in the tutelage of Aman. In Valinor, Galadriel had been a pupil of both Aulë and Yavanna, and felt the Valar had already taught her everything they were allowed to.

This can look like a level of arrogance of the likes of Fëanor, however, this is not how Tolkien sees it. Galadriel is presented like a character full of potential, spirit and talent. And even Manwë, the King of the Valar himself, has heard of her desire to leave for Middle-earth and didn’t oppose.

Refusing the Valar pardon

At the end of the First Age she [Galadriel] proudly refused forgiveness or permission to return. Tolkien Letter 320

And this is the Galadriel we meet in the first episode of “Rings of Power”. The audience can immediately perceive she’s strong-willed, proud and rebellious, acting against orders of the High-king of the Noldor, Gil-galad, in her endless hunt for Sauron, Morgoth’s sucessor and the responsible for her brother’s death.

Galadriel is also the only Elf in Middle-earth who believes that Sauron is still out there, and means to find and destroy him, at any cost. “More and more of our kind began to believe that Sauron was but a memory. And the threat, at last, was ended. I wish I could be one of them.”

It was not your company who defied you out there, but rather you who defied the High King, by refusing to heed any limit placed upon you. In an act of magnanimity, he has chosen to honor your accomplishments… Rather than dwell upon your insolence. Test him again and you may find him less receptive than you might have hoped. Elrond warns Galadriel, 1x01

Gil-galad “honors” Galadriel by granting her passage to return to Valinor, and rest in glory. But she’s set on refusing, not because she’s certain Sauron will return, and wants to find him, but due to her belief she won’t find inner peace, until she accomplishes that, as she tells Elrond in the same episode:

Elrond: Do you truly believe seeking him out will satisfy you? That one more Orc upon the point of your blade will bring you peace? […] If you are wrong, will you lead more Elves to die in far-off lands? To convince yourself you have done enough, how many more statues would you add to this path? No one in history has ever refused the call. Do so now, it may never come again. Do so now, it may never come again. You will linger here, an outcast, poisoned in dark whispers and dreams. Galadriel: And in the West, do you think my fate would be better? Where song would mock the cries of battle in my ears? You say I have won victory over all the horrors of Middle-earth. Yet you would leave them alive in me? To take with me? Undying, unchanging, unbreaking, into the land of winter less spring? Elrond: Only in the Blessed Realm can that which is broken in you be healed. Go there. Go, and I promise you… If but a whisper of a rumor of the threat you perceive proves true, I will not rest until it is put right. You have fought long enough, Galadriel. Put up your sword.

I would also like to point out Elrond foreshadowing Galadriel’s banishment in this scene. And this is very much in line with what Tolkien wrote:

[Galadriel] had no peace within. Pride still moved her when, at the end of the Elder Days after the final overthrow of Morgoth, she refused the pardon of the Valar for all who had fought against him, and remained in Middle-earth. It was not until two long ages more had passed, when at last all she had desired in her youth came to her hand, the Ring of Power and the dominion of Middle-earth of which she had dreamed, that her wisdom was full grown and she rejected it, and passing the last test departed from Middle-earth forever. The Peoples of Middle-earth

The Darkness Within

“Rings of Power” presents some explanations to Galadriel refusing the Valar’s pardon and staying in Middle-earth. At the surface, it’s because she wants to hunt down Sauron, defeat him, and for Halbrand to be “The Lost King” who could ride [her] to victory, like Elrond says, in 2x02.

It’s because of her pride, or her desire for vengeance. However, in 1x05, and in a moment of vulnerability with Halbrand aka Repentant Mairon, she reveals the true reason behind her restless pursuit of Sauron:

Galadriel sees her endless pursue for Sauron as the means to earn her inner peace after everything she saw, did and endured on Middle-earth. It’s connected to her pride, yes, but also to her greatest and deepest desire of healing. And this is why she can’t stop her pursuit, even when we, the audience, watch Galadriel endanger her companions’ lives in 1x01. She believes only when she destroys Sauron, will she destroy the darkness within herself.

Indeed he does, because Sauron wants to heal Middle-earth from Morgoth’s corruption, at this point in his own character arc. But the “darkness within” has been present in Galadriel’s character ever since the prologue of “Rings of Power”, and this is also in line with Tolkien legendarium, as Galadriel recognizes the darkness in others as a mirror to her own, and how she refuses to talk about her time in Valinor with Melian.

And in Season 1, we see Galadriel employing some questionable tactics; in Númenor she acts behind Halbrand’s back with Queen regent Míriel to get herself an army (the army she claims to Adar Sauron promised her, in 2x06), and travel to the Southlands and defeat Sauron. There, she vows to genocide the Orcs and killing some of them in a gruesome manner (bringing them into the sunlight) just for Adar to reveal Sauron’s whereabouts, even though he already told her the truth (as he knows it): he killed Sauron.

It would seem I'm not the only Elf alive who has been transformed by darkness. Perhaps your search for Morgoth's successor should have ended in your own mirror. Adar taunts Galadriel, 1x06

And Adar will not be the only character to mention the pull to the darkness in Galadriel, in “Rings of Power”:

The light of Valinor shone upon your very face, Galadriel, and you turned your back on it. Was it truly to fight the darkness or was the darkness calling to you? Elrond, 2x01

This is more noticeable with Repentant Mairon aka Halbrand, when she acts the “Morgoth” to his “Sauron”, by tempting him with power while he’s on a quest for redemption. By then, we already have some pieces of foreshadowing on this. We have Gil-galad’s prophecy in 1x01: “We foresaw that if it had, she [Galadriel] might have inadvertently kept alive the very evil she sought to defeat [Sauron]. For the same wind that seeks to blow out a fire may also cause its spread.”

And we also see Galadriel in connection with the Fall of Númenor visions, in Season 1:

And Mairon himself confirms this in 1x08. And that explains his “are they not the seeds you planted?” in Season 2. Because she’s the one who tempted him with power, and with the pouch of the King of the Southlands (Morgoth), when he wanted to remain in Númenor in servitude, and to prove his good faith to the Valar, and redeem himself from his crimes under Morgoth.

However, not only Galadriel established a connection with him, but also said “I’ve felt it too” when he expressed his wish to bind himself to her (“Fighting at your side, I... I felt... If I could just hold on to that feeling, keep it with me always, bind it to my very being, then I...”). She gave him the validation he wanted, and made him believe she would offer him forgiveness, and he would earn the redemption he so desperately wanted. But she didn’t, she cast him out. And he wouldn’t let it slide that easily, as we’ve been in Season 2.

Growing in Wisdom

In Season 2, we saw some glimpses of Galadriel letting go of her arrogance and “galloping”, and seeing the “bigger picture” in some occasions. This is foreshadowing for her future character arc, as the wise and compassionate, yet fierce and valiant, leader we know her to be on the Third Age. From Tolkien lore, we know that as she grows in wisdom and power (“elf magic” as Sam calls it), Galadriel will leave her pride behind.

Arondir. There is a dearth of Elven heroes this night. It would be a pity to lose another. Galadriel advises Arondir not to attack Adar, 2x07

But perhaps her last scene with Adar, in 2x08, was the most emblematic of this. She has been to the Orc camp, and witnessed the funeral rites, and how the Orcs live, and realized that, maybe, they aren’t the scourged slaves she believed them to be, back in Season 1. Each one of them has a personality. Like Adar told her, in 1x06: “We are creations of The One, Master of the Secret Fire, the same as you. As worthy of the breath of life, and just as worthy of a home.”

And Galadriel is becoming more attuned to every race in Middle-earth, and the Orcs were only the beginning. And she was willingly to make an alliance with Adar, at the end. They shared an agreement (until Sauron showed up and put an end to that). But more importantly, Adar forgives Galadriel for her hatred and her killing of the Orcs. And, as I’ve talked about on my post on Repentant Mairon (aka Halbrand), forgiveness is a major theme in Tolkien legendarium, and it’s not only earned, but given as well. And by forgiving Galadriel and returning Nenya to her, Adar redeems himself (just like Gollum; which is a theme I talked about here).

Banishment from Valinor

In Letter 353, Tolkien confirms that “Galadriel was 'unstained': she had committed no evil deeds”, concerning the Oath of Fëanor. She took no part in any of that; because “she was an enemy of Fëanor”. In the same letter, Tolkien tells us Galadriel reached Middle-earth independently, and not alongside the other Noldor. And her desires were legitimate, but “she became involved in the desperate measures of Manwë, and the ban on all emigrations”.

Many (Christopher Tolkien included) think this contradicts Galadriel’s banishment from returning to Valinor. But this is an idea (“the banishment of Galadriel”) Tolkien has in place in several sources of his work. And it wouldn’t be the first time Christopher Tolkien misinterpreted his father work, either, with the Dagor Dagorath being a prime example, when he thinks Tolkien abandoned the concept when he didn’t (Christopher later corrected this, though).

And it has been noticed by many Tolkien scholars how Christopher Tolkien has “tone down” his father’s female characters on his notes and editions, too. With Galadriel being a prime example of this. Tolkien tells us on several occasions that Galadriel had aspirations of power and dominion, she wanted a kingdom of her own, to rule as she saw fit, and that’s why she remained on Middle-earth, and refused the Valar’s pardon. However, Christopher decided to strip Galadriel of her agency, and even attempted to whitewash her character by claiming she wanted to stay on Middle-earth due to her love for Celeborn, when this has nothing to do with what Tolkien himself wrote. So, excuse me, for talking his interpretation with a grain of salt.

And, since Galadriel is married to Celeborn, of course, he’s included on her plans of having a kingdom of her own (to be otherwise wouldn’t make sense), with them both ruling it, but Galadriel wants to be the one “calling the shots”. And this dynamic is what will happen in Lothlórien: Celeborn is lord, but Galadriel is *the* Lady, without her husband overstep or overshining her. I’m not seeing any contradiction here. Maybe a case of “overthinking”, because Letter 353 appears to be about Galadriel not taking the Oath of Fëanor (and that’s not the reason for her banishment).

I owe much of this character to Christian and Catholic teachings and imagination of Mary, but actually Galadriel was a penitent, in her youth, a leader in the rebellion against the Valar (the angelic guardians). At the end of the First Age she proudly refused forgiveness or permission to return. She was pardoned because of her resistance to the final and overwhelming temptation to take the [One] Ring for herself. Tolkien Letter 320

I already theorized about Galadriel connection to the Virgin Mary (she’s not “the Virgin Mary”, but a “devotee of the Virgin Mary” in Tolkien lore) but I think Tolkien is being very clear with his words here. He considers Galadriel a “repentant sinner”, and he doesn’t contradict himself at all. Because a desire for power and dominion are not positive traits on his legendarium. And the confirmation that she was pardoned by the Valar when she resists the One Ring, clearly indicates there was something more at work, and is connected with her return to Valinor.

In “Fellowship of the Ring” book, this is also clear: “I pass the test,” she says, “I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel.” Her “passing the test” and resisting the One Ring is connected with her returning to Valinor.

We know, from Tolkien lore, Galadriel develops “sea longing” on the Third Age, and has a deep desire to return to Valinor, to the point of depression (she sings laments about it). One can argue she stays out of duty, but then why is she “pardoned” by the Valar after rejecting the One Ring and can now go to Valinor? The only explanation is that Galadriel was, indeed, banished, and her resisting the One Ring is her final test. She passes the test, the Valar pardon her, her banishment is lifted, and she returns to Valinor at the end of “The Return of the King”. No contradictions there.

On Christopher’s defense, he probably thought Galadriel “desiring power and dominion” weren’t good enough reasons for her to be banished from Valinor, and that’s a plot hole “Rings of Power” is trying to answer, with her connection with Sauron, and the temptations he offers her. He is, after all, the one who introduces the “desire for power and dominion” to her character arc in the show; by offering her temptations and promises of endless power (his power). Which means, Galadriel’s desire for dominion and power from Tolkien lore is personified by Sauron in the show. And the reason for her banishment, will be, also, connected to him, somehow, for Sauron has already offered her the same temptation as the One ring, thousands of years into the future:

And now at last it comes. You will give me the Ring freely! In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair! She lifted up her hand and from the ring that she wore there issued a great light that illumined her alone and left all else dark. She stood before Frodo seeming now tall beyond measurement, and beautiful beyond enduring, terrible and worshipful. Fellowship of the Ring

In Tolkien legendarium, it’s not Galadriel adventurous or valiant nature that gets her into trouble with the Valar, but her rebellious spirit, and her pride, above of all, that lead her defy their authority, and wanting to claim a kingdom of her own where she can make her own rules. In “Rings of Power” the disapproval of the Valar are personified in the characters of Gil-galad and Elrond.

Indeed, her disregard for the Valar laws is visible on several occasions in lore. Not only she “proudly refused” their pardon to return to Valinor, at the dawn of the Second Age, but Tolkien tells us, in Unfinished Tales: Celeborn was the lover of Galadriel, who she later wedded. In Letter 43, Tolkien defines what he means by “a lover” (in general): “engaging and blending all his affections and powers of mind and body in a complex emotion powerfully coloured and energized by sex”.

This seems to imply, Galadriel didn’t wait to be “officially” married (ceremony, feast) to Celeborn before consummating their union. For the Eldar, “sex = marriage”, indeed, but the way Tolkien phrases this seems to indicate Galadriel doesn’t concern herself with the Eldar ways, and took Celeborn as her lover before any thought of actual marriage. Because language is extremely important in Tolkien, and we already know “sex = marriage” for the Eldar, so him writing this about Galadriel’s character means there’s something more to it.

Interestingly enough, these two themes are present in Tolkien last letter concerning Galadriel, in 1973 (the year of his passing). Without context, however, it’s insure if the two are related or not, so read this with a whole saltshaker:

I meant right away to deal with Galadriel, and with the question of Elvish child-bearing.

[t3acupz]

🩻🤍💉 Brownham Medwhump May 💉🤍🩻

6. Doctor turned patient

Will usually comes home at around 7 PM to make dinner for both of them but today Matthew wanted to surprise the older man with a home cooked meal. He had been planning it for the past couple of days, and he finally settled on a recipe he felt confident enough to attempt.

Before living with Will, Matthew would get takeout every night from one of the hole-in-the-wall restaurants that littered the street by his apartment. Since moving in a month ago, Will cooked all the meals. During the week he’d make Cajun inspired dishes for dinner, and on the weekends he would bring Matthew with him while he fished. The former orderly would silently sit by the side of the stream, and watch Will cast his line, in awe of the gracefulness of his technique.

After taking a few weeks off, Will decided to go back to teaching to keep his mind occupied on anything other than the incessant Chesapeake Ripper news cycle. He liked working with the FBI trainees, and giving lectures on topics that caused both intrigue and fear in the minds of the young hopefuls.

Earlier in the day, Matthew took Winston on the five mile long run to the closest mom-and-pop grocery store. Will offered Matthew his old, beat up Harley-Davidson that was stored away in his shed but after inspecting it, and deciding that Will was better at restoring boats than motorcycles, Matthew said he’ll just walk. He didn’t mind it, Wolf Trap was scenic and peaceful compared to his old life in Baltimore.

It was 5:30 PM, and the sun was starting to set. Matthew had almost two hours to cook the skillet French onion chicken with baby potatoes. The grocery store didn’t have a great selection of fresh meat or vegetables so he made do with what he could scavenge. He started boiling a large pot of water for the potatoes, and suddenly realized he was surrounded by the whole pack, their tongues drooling over the wooden floor and their tails eagerly smacking his legs in anticipation of any scraps. Matthew watched Will cook all the time, and the dogs would typically lounge by the warm fireplace. He realized how well Will must have trained them but they weren’t interested in taking any orders from the newcomer.

“C’mon pups, let me through.” Matthew chuckled as the dogs didn’t move at all. He resigned to just having to maneuver his way around them, careful not to step on their paws.

He threw the potatoes in the boiling water, and picked up one the onions. How hard could it be, he mused, observing the layers as grabbed one of Will’s kitchen knives. Within seconds of cutting into the onion, Matthew’s eyes started stinging. “Yeah, this is a little annoying,” He said out loud to no one in particular but all the dogs perked up. “And no, none of you are getting any onion scraps.” He glanced down at Buster who was whining right under his feet. “I don’t think dogs can eat them anyway.”

In an instant, the pack started barking, and Max, Will’s burly retriever mutt, bumped into Matthew as he ran after the others to the front door. With his eyes full of tears from the onion, and his feet losing balance, Matthew’s hand slipped, slicing his thumb a half centimeter down into the flesh.

“Hey guys!” Will cheerfully exclaimed as he rubbed the closet canine’s back, coming home more than an hour earlier. “The students had presentations today so I didn’t need to stay late to grade—” He dropped his briefcase on the floor in shock when he finally locked eyes on Matthew bleeding on the floor of the kitchen. Sensing something was off, the dogs became frantic, running back and forth between the entryway and the kitchen.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Matthew grimaced, as he tried and failed to stop the bleeding. “It’s just a little cut.” Will ran over to Matthew, and helped him to a nearby chair.

“Stay here, the first aid kit is in the closet.”

Blood was already pooling by his feet, reminding him of his murder tableau. Prior to now, he hadn’t considered how painful cutting flesh would be until he accidentally did it to himself. Hannibal must’ve really wanted to eat me for what I did to his wrists.

“Are you feeling faint?” Matthew shook his head as Will hastily brought out the isopropyl alcohol. “This will sting a bit.”

Will gently took Matthew’s hand, and slowly started pouring the antiseptic over his left thumb. Matthew shut his eyes, desperate to hide the pain. He didn’t want to inconvenience Will any further but nothing gets past the FBI profiler’s keen empathy.

“Look at me, Matthew.” Will commanded. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” Muttered the young man, looking away from his thumb in hopes that not seeing it would somehow lessen the pain. “I was trying to surprise you with dinner, and then you came home early, and the dogs got—”

“I should’ve called,” Will cut him off while wrapping Matthew’s hand in a clean towel as he applied deep pressure on the cut. “Have you ever gotten stitches before?”

“On my chin, when I was a kid.” Matthew motioned with his free hand to the thin scar that ran down from his lips to the bottom of his chin. “I don’t remember what the stitching felt like though.” He admitted, wondering if he lacked the memory because the pain was too much for his small body to process at the time.

Will took out the curved needle, and sterile suture thread and sighed. “You’re not going to like this.”

Matthew didn’t want to admit that he was enjoying every minute since Will came home. He loved seeing Will take control, and be the doctor this time. Matthew’s mind began to wander to that night a few weeks ago when he gave Will head. They hadn’t done anything more since then. He worried that Will wanted him to leave but was too anxious to admit it. The thoughts were interrupted by the piercing sting of the needle going in.

“You need to stay absolutely still for this part,” Will said, leaning in close so he can see the flesh wound better. Matthew nodded but he was starting to feel dizzy from the loss of blood. Will worked on his thumb, each time the needle went in, Matthew bit his lip. He was sure by now his lip was just as bloody as his thumb. “Almost done, just a little more.” Will assured him.

That was the last thing Matthew remembered before passing out, and falling to the floor.

“Matt! Matt! Wake up!” Will cradled the young man’s limp body in his arms. He felt Matthew’s forehead, a cold sweat had broken out on the younger man’s face. Shit, Will thought as he checked Matthew’s pulse, he must have lost too much blood while being hypoglycemic.

He felt Matthew’s head for any bumps, and carried him to his bed. “Shh!” Will glared at his pack, and they quickly hushed down with tails between their legs, and scurried over to the fireplace.

Will brought a cup of cold water, and a banana with him from the kitchen as Matthew began to stir.

“Will?” He groaned, rubbing his head where he landed on it moments earlier.

“You’re going to be okay, try to sit up and drink some water. I finished your stitches right before you fainted.”

Matthew slumped back in the bed in embarrassment. He ruined dinner, he bled all over the floor, and he forced Will to suture him after a long day of work.

“I’ll pack my things tomorrow morning, and be out of here by noon.” Matthew whispered, taking the cold glass of water.

“What are you talking about?” Will replied in confusion. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head too hard when you landed?”

“Ever since that night, you’ve not touched me again,” He took a small sip and continued. “I’m sure you feel like it’s too awkward to tell me to leave so I’m doing it for you.”

Will lifted Matthew’s chin up with his pointer finger and kissed him. After he felt Matthew’s body relax into him, he broke the kiss, and cupped Matthew’s flushed cheek. “I want you, Matthew Brown.”

Matthew felt the tears well up. “I—” Will kissed him again, this time with tongue.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Will whispered as his lips hovered over Matthew’s. “I’m not good at relationships.” He noticed Matthew’s ears turning redder than he’d ever seen them before.

“You look pretty cute when you’re covered in blood,” Will began lifting Matthew’s bloodied shirt over his head. “But it’s probably better if we get you out of these clothes.” Will threw the shirt on the floor, and pulled down Matthew’s bloodied sweatpants next. He ran a hand down Matthew’s hard abs, and slid it into the younger man’s boxers. Matthew gasped at the sensation, unable to stay sitting up anymore, he fell back on the bed.

Will stroked Matthew’s cock until it was hard and throbbing. “Do I want you?” Will asked playfully as he teased Matthew’s cock with his tongue, feeling him squirm in his grasp.

He gave Matthew a rough jerk that made the young man moan into the pillow. “Answer me.” Will instructed, waiting for Matthew to reply before he continued.

“Yes,” Matthew’s breath hitched as Will took his cock in his mouth, and giving it a long, hard suck.

“Yes what?” Will went up the length of Matthew’s cock with his flat tongue.

“You want me,” Matthew groaned, barely able to stay conscious. The pleasure was building, and he wasn’t too sure if Will thought this through but there was no way in hell he was going to stop what was currently happening.

Will pinched Matthew’s pert nipples, and ran his hands down to the enigmatic tattoos on his ribcage. He continued down to Matthew’s hips, and held him down as he bobbed his head, getting faster in accordance to Matthew’s breathing. Will knew that Matthew was getting close to finishing.

“Come for me,” Will commanded, sending Matthew over the edge. He jerked Matthew’s cock until the cum began to spurt onto his abs, caking them with the white liquid. “You did so good for me,” Will praised him, licking the bit of cum that landed on his fingers.

Will took the blanket and began cleaning Matthew. “Matt?” Will noticed that the young man was limp again. “Shit.”

After a few minutes, Matthew regained consciousness. “Oh god, did I pass out again?!” Matthew yelled, covering his face with his hands. Will nodded in amusement.

“I guess I’m that good, huh?” He teased, peeling the banana as he watched Matthew’s ears turning red again.

“Here, eat this, and I'll finish making dinner.” Will smirked, handing the young man the banana as he got off the bed, and headed towards the kitchen. “I’m sure those potatoes are beyond ready at this point.”

[nostalgia-tblr]

who can solve my plot/character problem in the sylki con artists au so that i can continue writing it

[rking200]

It's Sunday! A new chapter has found its way to The Red Room. Check it out to see why Connor acted how he did last chapter <3 Take a peek at @connor-sent-by-cyberlife's wonderful new render, and don't forget to check back later to show their post some love!

The Red Room (60070 words) by rking200 Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor Characters: Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Original Chloe | RT600, Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Elijah Kamski Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Stalking, Vomiting, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Hank Anderson, Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor is a Mess (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Missing Persons, Abduction, Manipulation, Death Threats, Mental Health Issues, Zlatko didn't do it, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Sex at some point Summary: Connor Stern is a law school dropout who dreams of making it big in the music industry. He manages to get into a special apprenticeship program with the musical genius Elijah Kamski and, despite working two jobs and struggling to stay afloat, feels like his dream is finally within his grasp. When Hank Anderson stumbles into the lounge Connor performs at, The Red Room, he becomes entranced with him. As Hank falls in love with Connor's voice, he ends up entangled with conflicting emotions and delicate situations. Slowly, his nights are filled with Connor's songs and his closeness, even if he feels he doesn't deserve it. They reach several roadblocks along the way of getting closer, some more dangerous than others. A collaboration written alongside Connor-sent-by-Cyberlife for the Reverse Big Bang 2024, told with a POV alternating between Hank and Connor. Chapters added weekly.

[whatudottu]

Ever since making my human Shockwave design, both my original one and this one, I've been thinking of what arm he would have because even if you have access to a cannon arm as a human it's logical to have a functional arm prosthetic maybe idk-

An extra ever since after reading @nukeli 's SG Shockwave fic I've also been thinking of human Shockwave having a donor arm like what happens in the oneshot, it being mismatched because though demand is high supply is very very low and replacement body parts don't last-

[cabeswaterdrowned]

haven’t aftgposted in a hot minute but I do want to say that now I’ve had some distance from hyperfixation I can say that I think the most interesting/captivating relationships from it to me in order are Kevin/Andrew, Andrew & Nicky, Andrew & Renee, Andreil and Renee/Dan

[irondad-defensesquad]

Tony kneels in front of Peter, whose gaze is miserable.

“Hey,” the former beckons. “Is there anything that could help you feel better? Even a little? Can be anything at all.”

Peter shows that he’s thinking of an answer. For now he doesn’t look at Tony, but he slowly analyzes the environment around them. Peter is holding his own hands. Tony may find the slightly oversized sweater adorable in him, even if the kid isn’t looking so sharp right now.

“... my room,” the latter mumbles.

“Hm?”

Peter looks ashamed. “I hate how my room looks right now. It’s… bothering me so much.”

“We can fix that.”

The teen doesn’t look entirely motivated.

“I can tidy it up–”

“Mr. Stark, don’t.”

“I don’t mind, kid.”

“Yeah, but it’s my room, I should’ve cleaned it forever ago. That’s not on you.”

Tony’s smile might falter a bit. “Well, I can do what I want, and you can’t stop me,” he jokes.

That at least makes Peter smirk. “Yeah, sure.”

Tony helps get all the clothes thrown around, handing them to Peter so he knows where to put them. Tony then organizes his school material, and he can’t help but see the tiny doodles Peter drew of Iron Man and Spider-Man. Tony grins.

Finally, Peter picks the broom to remove most of the dust on the floor. He does it slowly. Tony handles his desk overall.

Peter suddenly stops moving.

Tony looks at him.

The boy drops the broom as he finally starts crying.

“Hey, hey…” Tony rushes to him. “It’s okay.”

“I’m so tired, Mr. Stark… I c-can’t–”

“Shh, it’s okay. You did great,” Tony guides him to bed. “You did great, Pete.”

“I’m sorry I’m…” Not good enough. I’m a mess. I’m a burden.

“It’s okay. It’s okay…” Tony repeats it as many times as he needs, whilst rubbing Peter’s back.

After many quiet sobs and sniffs, Peter shyly looks up.

“... Thanks,” he whispers.

Tony smiles sadly. “No prob, Bob. Now you rest, okay? I’m getting you a reward later.”

Peter chuckles. “What kind of reward?”

“A tasty one.”

“Does it involve ice cream?”

“Absolutely.”

“Awesome.”

Peter watches Tony get the broom and do the rest of the cleaning. His puppy eyes are still growing deep. He looks so small, especially in the sweater and the blanket. He looks huggable.

“... What?” Peter notices Tony staring at him every now and then.

“You. You’re impossibly cute.”

Peter frowns. “No, I’m not…”

“If you look at yourself in the mirror, you would want to cocoon yourself, too.”

Peter scoffs. “Maybe you got too much dust in your eyes.”

Tony smirks and finishes the job. He orders some Ben & Jerry’s – four only for Peter. He wanted the Avengers flavors.

Peter eats silently. Tony sticks with him. The TV is their only conversation.

The kid might not show the same appetite as a mutant teenage boy’s, but he does look a little better. His cheek is dirty with a few chocolate chips.

Tony snorts, taking a napkin. “You baby.”

Peter protests. “Hey…”

Except neither of them stop the action, and Tony is pretty careful with it.

They gaze at each other with full attention.

Until Tony squeezes Peter’s cheek.

“Mr. Stark!!!” The latter yells. “I’m gonna get ice cream on you!”

Tony hasn’t laughed this much in quite a while. Turns out he needed to cheer up, too.

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting invites four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, Trevelyan has someone she'd like to impress.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 3,848. Rating: all audiences, bar a few swears.)

Chapter 42: The Ball

The Great Hall was adorned in its finest, the banners of the Inquisition unfurled. A quartet played upon the dais, the floor before them awaiting its dancers. Attendees of every strata—advisors, digintaries, mages, soldiers—exhibited their most exquisite attire, anticipating the arrival of their guests of honour.

The door thundered open. A herald announced their names:

“Presenting! Lady Erridge of West Coldon, Lady Samient of Samient, Baroness Touledy of Val Misrenne, and Lady Trevelyan, of Ostwick!”

The Ladies strode in, none finer than they. Lady Erridge wore her pinkest, most ruffliest dress yet; Lady Samient wore her tightest, of dark, snakish leather; the Baroness wore her most glamorous, a gown in deep and passionate red—with a mahogany cane to match, of course.

Trevelyan entered last of all. The ballgown she wore? Unrecognisable.

The black brocade was gone, the lace ripped from its seams with wicked delight. All that remained was perfect canvas of purest navy, onto which it could be painted—with shining, silvery thread.

Her mother would’ve fumed at the very idea. But what good was learning embroidery, if one did not use it in defiance? Each Lady had taken up a quadrant of her own, yet the stitches they had sewed were all the same: dozens upon dozens of tiny, shimmering, stars.

Trevelyan sparkled with every step. Diamonds glittered around her neck, lent eagerly by the Baroness. Every candle’s flame glistened upon her. Even the night sky could not compare.

Were it not for the musicians, the room would have been stunned to silence. Whispers of admiration made their circuit. Trevelyan drank in the praise, striding through the parting crowds. They led her to the foot of the dais, where the Ladies had gathered, and where an elegant figure—clothed in blue and gold—stood tall. With little more than a smile and a gesture, Lady Montilyet brought the room to a hush.

“Friends of the Inquisition!” she proclaimed. “Thank you for attending! If I may, I wish to propose a small toast, to some of our departing guests.”

She raised her glass. “A toast to Lady Erridge and Lady Orroat, to the union of your families and of Coldon! A toast to the Baroness Touledy, for victory in Val Misrenne! And a toast to Lady Samient, for her safe journey home!”

Glasses and steins clinked together, accompanied by a hearty cheer.

“But to Lady Trevelyan of Ostwick,” Montilyet continued, “we do not say farewell. Gathered friends, may I please introduce you, to our new Arcanist!”

Applause went up, echoing off the walls, and filling the room with joy. Trevelyan laughed in delight, and caught glimpses of her friends amongst the crowd. Varric clapped, Dorian hollered, and even Sera cheered—though none were as enthusiastic as Dagna herself!

Still, there was one face she could not quite find.

“Tonight, we celebrate!” Montilyet declared. “So please, enjoy!”

The band launched into triumphant fanfare; good humour and good company were the orders of the evening. The Ladies, all aflutter, went about these goals with giddiness and verve.

“Won’t you come dance?” asked Erridge, having already recruited Lady Orroat to her cause.

Trevelyan startled, her attention elsewhere. She stumbled and stammered over her excuses. “Oh! Later, perhaps? There’s something, I, um...”

Lady Samient picked up on her meaning, and picked up her slack. “Come, Lady Erridge! I’ll dance with you.”

Appeased, Lady Erridge escorted her away. Trevelyan withdrew from the dancefloor.

She could dance another time. She did not wish to muss her hair or catch her skirt. Her eyes scanned the party. Her fingers trembled. The moment he saw her had to be perfect.

A hand caught her shoulder. The Baroness, apparently having already procured a drink, leant over, and tilted it forward.

“There,” she whispered.

The crowd parted, as if by her will. True to her word, at the other end of the room, there he stood. The man she’d been searching for.

The Commander.

Maker, he had only become more handsome the longer she had known him. That rough-hewn jaw of his, and the dishevelment of stubble upon it; the subtle waves in his hair, hints of his rebellious curls; those dimples upon his cheeks—the thumb-prints of the divine, left where the Maker’s scultping hand had gone astray.

And his weary eyes, whose gentle gaze found her, and drew her closer.

Trevelyan admired, as she approached, the coincidence of the navy blue doublet that Lady Montilyet had undoubtedly advised him to wear. Hm. She liked him better in red. Suited him more, perhaps—though it mattered little. There was nothing that could dull the shine of him; true gold, after all, did never rust.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as he straightened to greet her. And he would have done so, perhaps warmly, perhaps sweetly—had a scout, uniformed and on duty, not appeared at his side.

Ah, fuck.

They whispered something to him beneath the hubbub of the ball, which sharpened back into focus. Though Trevelyan heard nothing of the Commander’s reply, when his attention returned to her, his smile was gone.

“Arcanist,” he said, with a bow. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. There is urgent business to which I must attend.”

Bloody typical.

“Of course,” she told him, magnanimously. “Duty calls.”

“At inconvenient times,” he muttered.

“No duty is ever convenient,” she commented. That seemed to amuse him, at least.

“I will return as soon as I am able, I assure you.”

“Yes, Commander.”

She curtsied to him, and allowed him to depart. The scout lingered by the rotunda door; the Commander followed them through.

Gone.

Trevelyan looked down at her pretty, sparkly skirt, and fluffed it up, pointlessly. Not quite the moment she’d been hoping for.

Oh, well. She would have ample opportunity for such moments with him in the coming days. If he didn’t get called away by something or other during those, too.

Stowing her frustration, Trevelyan returned to the party. There was plenty there to distract her, anyway. She watched the Ladies dance together; she enthused with Dagna about their work; she spoke to Lady Montilyet about her new quarters (ready tomorrow!); and she gossiped with Dorian about absolutely nothing of note—though he was, as always, terribly good conversation.

Yet still no Commander.

The noise of the music and the chatter and the stomps of the dancing were beginning to blur in her brain. Dorian noted her change in temperament, as she attempted to peer through the garden door from afar. Too many in attendance; the party had spilled out into it. It was no less busy out there than it was in here.

“Try up there,” Dorian suggested, indicating the mezzanine above. It seemed Sera had been banned from it today, as there was no skulking to be seen. “It has a balcony, if you need some air.”

“Thank you,” said Trevelyan. She’d had little cause to ever stray up there before—but this seemed as good a reason as any. She bid him farewell, and escaped up the stairs.

The moment she reached their peak, her troubled mind calmed. Mere feet above the chaos, the music came quieter, the conversation nothing more than ambience. Thank the Maker.

Besides, this mezzanine was well-furnished for a somewhat hidden space, with a luxurious chaise and portraits of figures Trevelyan did not quite recognise. The candelabrum here were not lit, leaving all illumination to that of the moons, whose glow trickled through a pair of glass doors—beyond which, as promised, was a balcony.

But Trevelyan felt enough at ease to stay inside—and she found the view of the party below to be quite of interest. The dancers weaved such wonderful patterns; outfits, in all colours, were arrayed like a painter’s palette. She could watch, as those she knew flitted from one group, to another. An enjoyable pict—

The rotunda door opened, drawing her eye. The Commander entered the hall. He strode into the party with such determination, it was as if it did not exist around him. Trevelyan traced his path as it led him, direct, to the Baroness.

They huddled against a wall. He whispered something. Urgent business? Oh, no.

But the Baroness smiled. Wider and wider. She asked him a question; he replied with nod. She placed a hand over her heart, and sighed. Trevelyan did the same.

If the news they shared was what she hoped, then she was rather glad she hadn’t kicked up a fuss at the Commander’s departure. Because if it was what she hoped, then he could have left all night, and still she would smile.

Maker, she had to see the Baroness—and she would have, if not for the feet hurrying up the stairs. The Baroness? No cane. Then—!

The Commander sprang onto the landing, startling himself as much as he startled her, determination abandoning him in an instant. “Arcanist!” he stammered, attempting to bow. “Forgive me—Dorian told me you were here.”

That crafty bastard. Trevelyan put his schemes aside, and asked, “Is everything all right, Commander? What was your urgent business?”

Before he’d even said a word, he smiled. That alone brought her relief. “There was a message from the Inquisitor,” he told her. “The battle is won. Val Misrenne is safe.”

Trevelyan could scarcely believe it. She clasped a hand over her mouth, a beaming smile beneath it. She shook her head, out of sheer incredulity. By Andraste. She could not fathom how dear Touledy felt.

“Thank the Maker,” she breathed. “Or, I suppose—thank you, Commander.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think it is the Inquisitor’s party and the guard of Val Misrenne who ought to have the credit of it.”

“Of course, but you may take a little as well, Commander. Your handling of the situation was… impressive, to say the least.”

Such a compliment did not seem to sit well with him, for he stuttered as if he had not the words to form a reply. Awkwardness prevailed, until his fortunes changed, and his eyes chanced upon the balcony doors.

“Forgive me, I didn’t meant to disturb you. Were you… headed outside?”

Trevelyan smiled. She looked at them, then at him. “Preferably not alone.”

“Oh. I could...”

She backed into the doors, her eyes beckoning him to follow. He trailed after her as if in a trance, stepping through, to the tranquil night beyond.

The stars above shone in greeting, illuminating the finely-carved stone of the balcony balustrade. Trevelyan rested herself upon it, gazing out. The Commander’s presence, a warmth in the absence of the sun, settled beside her.

“It’s... a nice night,” he said.

She quite agreed. The entire courtyard was laid out before them, from the tavern—as lively as the party they’d left behind—to the stables—quiet, at this time of day. Moonlit stone, punctuated by glowing torchlight, encircled the fortress, and banished the darkness from its embrace.

“I, ah, have something for you,” he said, hand fumbling within his jacket. “I believe this is yours.”

He managed to locate this ‘something’, and freed it from its concealment. A white cloth, that flashed in the moonlight, embroidered with leaves Trevelyan recognised. It was far more pristine than the last time she’d seen it.

The napkin slipped pleasantly from the Commander’s fingers into her own. She noted the warmth of his proximity, still lingering within the weave, and the sweet, earthy scent that had been left by his possession.

“Technically,” she teased, “I believe it is Lady Montilyet’s.”

“I hardly think she’ll miss it.”

“I certainly hope so.” She tucked it away—safe. “Thank you, Commander.”

“Thank you for the use of it,” he said. “Though, speaking of Lady Montilyet—you, ah, took the offer. To become Arcanist.”

“I did.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

The Commander stammered, “For you—I mean. I mean, I am glad. That—despite how you came to be here—you have found enough reason to stay.”

Trevelyan shook her head, and smiled. “I know that I ought to have left, and truly have started my life afresh… but that would have been dishonest, to what I truly want.”

“May I ask… what is it?”

“What?”

The Commander met her eye. “That you… want?”

She bit back the smile that threatened to betray her. “Well… I suppose there is one thing—”

Feet clattered up the stairs. Trevelyan stopped herself. As if she were summoned by these precise circumstances, Lady Erridge stumbled out onto the mezzanine.

“Lady Trevelyan!” she called. “Oh, Commander, there you are! Sorry to disrupt, but I came to see if you should like to dance!”

The Commander shook his head. “No, thank you. I don’t dance.”

Erridge giggled. “I know! I wasn’t speaking to you, Commander! Come, Lady Trevelyan! The Commander shall have plenty of time to whisper with you when we are gone!”

Though the interruption was not exactly ideal, Trevelyan could not deny the sentiment. She curtsied to the Commander, somewhat apologetically.

“It seems I am summoned away. Urgent business, I believe they call it.”

His mouth tilted into a smirk; it made her skin tingle. “Another time, then.”

“Of course.”

Raucous music caught their ears, and Erridge perked. “Come along!” she said, snatching up Trevelyan’s hand. She threw a hasty farewell to the Commander over her shoulder, and whisked Trevelyan away. They tumbled down the stairs together, bursting onto the main floor of the hall—as the band cued a jig.

“Over here!” called Samient and Orroat, from the dancefloor. In the absence of Lady Erridge, they had partnered together—but saved a spot beside them, just in case.

Trevelyan and Erridge squeezed past the other dancers, and hurried to take it. They joined hands—properly, this time—and waited for the song to start, giggling all the while.

Strings and wind erupted into a prancing melody of alternating highs and lows, and caught them quite off-guard. But Lady Erridge sprang to action, and Trevelyan followed her lead. They bounced around the floor with zest and zeal, clapping their hands, kicking their legs into the air. Skirts clashed and flew, an explosion of fabric and colour.

It burst apart, into an exchange of dancers. Trevelyan sailed into the arms of Lady Orroat, who cut as fine a form as one could expect.

“So this is what you were all up to yesterday?” she said, of Trevelyan’s dress. “Maker, it’s beautiful!”

Though the compliment was quite routine, a look of panic struck the passing Lady Erridge. “Look, dear Orroat!” she called, loosing a hand from Samient’s, to jab her finger at some collection of stars. “I sewed those ones!”

Dancers parted again, to what must have been Erridge’s utmost relief. Trevelyan swapped Orroat for Samient, the latter of whom smiled as if amused.

“It seems dear Erridge has quite reversed her position on your knowing Lady Orroat,” she whispered.

Trevelyan giggled. “Good, for I could hardly say we should make such a handsome couple as they!”

Nor one so well-suited. It seemed the touch of her dear Orroat’s hand had quelled Lady Erridge’s worry in an instant, and the pair twirled and danced so pleasantly to the eye, it made Trevelyan miss a step. Samient ably accounted for the fumble. It was a wonder how she danced so well, in a dress so constricting. Then again, it was a wonder how this was Trevelyan’s first stumble, in a dress so grand.

Though their jig came to an end, another began—and Lady Erridge would not be satisfied with just the one! Trevelyan was made to dance the next three complete, until—quite exhausted—she formulated an excuse, and made her exit.

The sight of the Baroness at the edge of the dancefloor was quite welcome, as if safety and anchor in a storm. Trevelyan hurried towards her, and greeted her with a smile and an embrace—for which they both knew the reason.

“I’ve heard the news,” she said, as she recovered her breath. “How do you feel?”

The Baroness sighed. “Relieved. When I leave for my home tomorrow, I shall return to find it at peace—but that peace has not come without sacrifice. And yet, I know it could have been so much more. That Val Misrenne and its people still stand is worth celebrating.”

“It is. And I hope that it brings you peace, as well.”

Trevelyan hugged her again—but the music’s sudden and effervescent return caused her to jump. Laughing at herself, Trevelyan glanced back at the dancefloor.

“You know, I am surprised Lady Erridge has not called you up for a jig!”

The Baroness chuckled. “No, no, my leg is far too frail for that.”

“Really?” Trevelyan raised an eyebrow. “I remember you saying that you still dance.”

“I do.” She grinned. “But the leg is an excellent excuse.”

Trevelyan caught her meaning. “Lady Erridge’s enthusiasm is quite difficult to match.”

“Indeed. She has the stamina of a demon. Though I’m sure Lady Orroat could find some use for that.”

Trevelyan laughed. “Your Ladyship! Please, I feel so terrible teasing her!”

“Then you should not like to hear what we say about you and him.”

The Baroness winked, as if to point. Trevelyan, utterly confused by who ‘him’ was, heeded the suggestion. She turned, laid her eyes upon the man in question, and groaned. Weaving past the dancers was—she ought to have guessed it—the Commander.

“Oh, Maker! You all have far too much—” She halted, realising the Baroness’s mouth was half-open, her cane being raised in the air. “No, no—!”

“Commander!”

He heard the call. His head whipped round. No stopping it now—he was coming towards them.

“Baroness!” Trevelyan hissed.

Touledy smiled, gave a suggestive flick of her brow, and said nothing more. Though Trevelyan was almost glad of this—the Commander ought not hear anything she was thinking.

“Ladies,” he greeted, upon arrival. “Is there something you need?”

“Why, yes,” said Touledy, all too confidently. What was she up to? “Lady Trevelyan here wishes another dance, but I am afraid I am unable to”—she flashed her cane—“would you be able to dance with her Ladyship, in my stead?”

“Oh.” The Commander softened. "Are you all right?”

Trevelyan noted, rather indignantly, that the Commander asked this question with the same sort of gentle voice that he often put on for her. This was a concept which, she suddenly discovered, she did not like. Why, oh why, did she have to make him befriend the other Ladies? Fool.

“Yes, thank you,” the Baroness answered, “but her Ladyship must have a dance.”

Trevelyan rolled her eyes. “But Baroness, the Commander does not like to dance, and I—”

“I could try,” he said.

Trevelyan stared at him. She thought of a thousand questions in response to this. But somehow, the only one she could quite manage was:

“What?”

“If you would like to.”

Oh. Well, there was little chance of her saying anything other than, “Yes.”

The Baroness grinned, relishing in her triumph. “Go on, then,” she said, “enjoy.”

Easier said than done. At least Trevelyan had danced enough jigs with Lady Erridge to know what she was to do with them, now. In her mind, as they walked to the floor, she went over the steps. Left, left, kick, clap. Switch. Then to the right? But—

The music grew in volume. Yet it sounded like no jig she’d ever heard. Trevelyan realised that the musicians had betrayed her. Not a jig. Not at all.

Sweet, slow strings floated across the hall. A… romantic melody, that had couples approaching the floor. Dear Maker fucking Andraste shitting Void. People linked hands and put them on waists and Trevelyan realised that she was in the midst of it, surrounded, and there was no escape, and she would have to do those things herself.

She faced the Commander. Maker, why did he have to look so pretty and be so sweet? This sort of thing was far simpler with unimportant suitors that one could so easily discard after, even if one did step on their toes.

He offered a hand. Trevelyan’s shook.

But still, they met.

Her fingers slid into his palm, sensing the warmth that emanated from beneath the leather of his glove. The feeling of his skin, however rugged or tender, was cruelly left to the imagination. She savoured it regardless.

Her other hand gathered up her skirts, like the rest of the dress-wearers were doing. Almost in position. There was simply one last thing to emulate—

The Commander’s hand moved for her waist, hesitant in its approach. The first touches of his fingertips—gentler even than that of cotton or down—caused her body to tense. She did not know how she was to bear his entire hand.

But his hand stopped short. It instead hovered over the fabric of her dress, as if afraid to press any further. Disappointing.

Nevertheless, the gentle strings of anticipation harmonised into a symphony. Dancing commenced, and the Commander’s feet shifted. Trevelyan mirrored his steps. Her nerves hit a peak.

And then, began to fade.

Because dancing with him was unlike dancing with anyone she had danced with before. It felt different. Gentler. Warmer. Safer. No pressure for extravagance, or flourish. It almost did not matter if she was dancing well or not. It was only him that mattered.

“You should dance more often,” she whispered to him. “You do it well.”

He smiled, softly, and said, “All right.”

Her words must have emboldened him, for his grip around her hand firmed and strengthened, and he drew her closer by its pull. His other hand slipped around her back, fitting perfectly into the mold of her body. The gap between them was more indistinct than ever.

Yet in that closeness was comfort. Her head, laid on his shoulder. The warmth of his chest, felt within her own. That gentle, soothing sway they shared. She let her eyes fall shut, the dancers fall away, and listened only to the beat of his heart. Trevelyan could have stayed like that for an eternity.

But the music slowly, gradually, dulled to quiet. The other dancers reappeared around them, the party audible once more. It was over.

They came to a standstill. Trevelyan’s hand reluctantly left his grasp; his trailed away from her waist. Yet still, she smiled, for nothing could take it from her lips.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course,” he replied.

“I shan’t make you dance another.”

“That’s… all right.” He rubbed his neck. “Will you, ah, be stargazing tonight?”

She played with her dress. “Most likely.”

“Ah. Good.”

She curtsied, he bowed. He left, she stayed. Her feet still wobbled, a little.

But she would have to recover quickly. For she turned to her side, and saw complete what had, until now, been only a disruption in her periphery: the Ladies, huddled together, in keen observance.

Trevelyan shook her head, and, before they could open their mouths, told them firm:

“Not one word.”

[evilhasnever]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 魔道祖师 | Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon), 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén/Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo Characters: Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Eloping, Memory Related, Happy Ending, Baby Lan Xichen flashbacks for your weary heart, Identity Issues Series: Part 5 of Memory Lane Summary:

It’s still tender, this new memory of his. This new entirety of him.

Xiyao elope to Japan, with only their newfound memories for baggage.

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