#welcome reception cocktail

[savvytravelers]

Gala Dinner Experience

Indulge in a Gala Dinner Experience with Savvy Travelers, savoring exquisite cuisine and entertainment!

[shaadiwish]

Check Out And Add These Lip-Smacking Cocktail Ideas For Winter Weddings. For More Such Trends And Ideas, Stay Tuned With ShaadiWish.

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Second Chances

Love Bites, Epilogue // Love Bites {Masterlist}

Ship: Astarion Ancunin x fem!vampire spawn!elf!Tav/reader

Summary: Home is a place and home is people. You have quite the large family now, and it's time to provide for them, however you may.

Word Count: 5,729 words

Warnings: 18+, slice of life, spawn ending, Astarion is reunited with his parents, wedding planning, Astarion experimenting with his boundaries, open-ended

18+ Warnings: consensual touching, consensual sex, utilizing Elvish anatomy, fingering, biting, handjob, taking it slow, check-ins, aftercare

Notes: Thank you to everyone who's read Love Bites! I will eventually be adding more to this universe in this future; if you have any requests (add-ons to this story or otherwise), DM me!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

It was an unusually busy night for the tavern. Between the patrons sitting at your bartop and the servers bustling back and forth between their tables and the bar with drink orders, you’d hardly had a moment to slow down and breathe—so it was a good thing you no longer needed to breathe. 

One of your patrons—a regular from before your time with a tadpole in your head—paid his dues and wished you a good night. You sent him off with a smile and a wave and cleared away his empty glass. You hardly had the time to wash the glass before someone cleared their throat behind you.

“I’ll be with you in just a second,” you started, not even looking over your shoulder.

Your visitor giggled. “Oh, bartender, give me a glass of your best red,” he drawled. You turned around with a smile and found your fiancé leaning on your bartop, a dopey, pretty smile on his face. 

“Wait your turn like the rest of these lovely people,” you teased, gesturing to your full bar. Regardless, you leaned over the bar and kissed him quickly.

Astarion chuckled. “Oooo, whatever would the owner say, seeing the bartender kissing her customers?”

You rolled your eyes. “Good thing I’m the owner, then, hmm?” 

Astarion grinned. “Oh, yes.”

“Did you just get back from the Underdark?” you asked, making another cocktail as you talked.

He nodded. “Yes. They’re all doing fine down there, darling, I promise. I’ll tell you all about it when we get home.”

“You haven’t been home yet?”

He caught and kissed the back of your hand. “No, I came straight here, I thought you could use the help on a busy night.”

You smiled at him. “Aren’t you sweet? Let me get back to work, love, and I’ll get back to you when it slows down, alright?” You kissed his cheek one last time and went back to the server trying to catch your attention—another vampire spawn with a table-full of drinks to make.

It had taken almost a year after the business with the Netherbrain, but you’d gotten here, with Astarion by your side. You had expected it to take longer to get to this point: a tavern owned and operated by vampires, keeping some of the seven thousand spawn Astarion had freed when he killed his master occupied and a place that welcomed them. Those who didn’t live and work at the tavern had made a place for themselves in the Underdark and visited frequently. 

Public reception hadn’t been great at first. You had just filled a business in a respectable part of town with dangerous creatures, you hadn’t expected Baldur’s Gate to be enthusiastic. But, by some miracle, it had worked. The spawn kept their hands—and their teeth—to themselves, drinking from wild animals and from the blood spared by the butcher shop just down the road. With help from you and Astarion, a community had formed around your little tavern, one that stretched all the way into the Underdark. 

For having seven thousand new “children,” you and Astarion were doing fairly good for yourselves. You’d even had the time to do some adventuring here and there when your companions called for your help. It had been some months since you’d picked up a weapon, but you were hoping this dry spell would be over quickly—you had Gale searching for a pair of Sunwalker rings rumored to be in Waterdeep, and the sooner you got Astarion back into the sunlight, the better. Dalyria was attempting to find or make a cure for vampirism, but she hadn’t found anything yet, so the rings were your best bet for the time being. 

As always, the hours passed quickly. Before you knew it, you were sending the last of the servers home well before sunup. You and Astarion closed up together and locked the door when you left. He slipped his hand into yours as you started walking home.

“The long way or the short way?” he asked.

“The short way,” you said. “I can’t wait to climb into bed.”

Astarion kissed your cheek. “Oh, I wholeheartedly agree, darling. I still can’t get over the joy of sleeping on an actual bed—and with you beside me.”

You snorted. “And not your stupid plank and bedroll?”

He rolled his eyes. “I was making due with what I had!”

You giggled and leaned into him. “I know, I know. We did pretty good for ourselves back then, didn’t we?”

Astarion looked at you fondly. “We did,” he said, kissing your temple. “We did.”

Home was just around the corner—the place Astarion had grown up and where so many of your best memories were. Now that he had gone back to living in those walls, his memory had been coming back in bits and pieces, little snippets of his life before Cazador turned him. Sometimes it was a relief, when a nostalgic little smile would cross his face and he would recite whatever he’d remembered as if in a daze. Other times you found yourself cradling him as he mourned what had been stolen from him. Recently, the happier moments were becoming more frequent.

Astarion unlocked the door for you and shouted over your shoulder, “We’re home, Ma!”

You giggled as you and Selwynn made eye contact as she put down her knife. “She’s right here, Asty, no need to shout.”

Selwynn came over as you pulled your coat off and hung it up. She kissed Astarion’s cheek, cupping his cheek to hold him closer, as if he might escape. However, since his return home, Astarion had never once tried to get out of her grasp quicker than she was ready for. More often than not, he lingered in the hope she’d keep holding her. “How were the spawn today, dear?”

“Oh, they’re doing fine,” Astarion promised. “The tavern’s helping them get a fresh start and they’ve got a nice little village set up in the Underdark. Some of them are even starting families. As it happens, spawn can get pregnant.”

Selwynn raised one elegant brow. “Well, then. I suppose your plans for the future from all those years ago aren’t completely off the table now, are they?”

Astarion laughed. “Slow down, Ma, let us get through the wedding first, alright?”

You smiled at them. “We’ll get there one day,” you promised. “I’m just happy to have him back for now.”

Astarion beamed at you, all fangs, and leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet, searing kiss—the kind of kiss you never would have let his parents see two centuries ago, but no longer cared to hide. 

When he broke the kiss, you were left dizzy and clinging to his arm or you were going to fall over, but Astarion asked easily, if it hadn’t happened, “Where’s Dad?”

“He went to bed early,” Selwynn explained. “Headache. He’s been getting them more often now that he’s stopped trancing regularly.”

You frowned. “If keeping our odd hours doesn’t work, he doesn’t have to. Neither of you have to become nocturnal until we find the Sunwalker rings.”

She gave you a sympathetic smile. “We know we don’t have to, dear, but we want to. We have your wedding to plan, you know. Oh, that reminds me! I made some adjustments to your veil. It’s finished now, if you want to take a look at it.”

“After we eat, absolutely,” you said. “What do we have today?”

“Boar’s blood,” Selwynn said. “I think it should work with my recipe. And I’ve got a few jars left if it doesn’t.”

Selwynn was yet another way you, Astarion, and the other spawn were making normal lives for yourself. Over the past year, she’d been experimenting with cooking and magic to find ways for vampires to eat solid food. A few of her recipes had been successful.

“Looking forward to it, Mama,” Astarion said. He kissed her cheek. Something came over him, clouding his eyes. He shook it off subtly and smiled at his mother. 

“What is it?” she asked. None of his moods escaped her.

“Nothing,” he promised. He kissed the top of her head. “Nothing. I just…I love you.”

Selwynn folded him into a hug he gladly fell into. “I love you, too, Star.”

~❊~

After dinner, the four of you retired to the sitting room. Your wedding dress waited for you on a mannequin, your veil draped over it, your shoes next to it. Astarion jokingly covered his eyes, claiming he didn’t want to see it until your wedding day, but put his hands down when you insisted on showing him the veil. As always, his eye caught on the two portraits of him on the mantle—one from all those years ago, his skin slightly pink and his eyes still honeyed, and another that his parents had commissioned when he returned with his features as they were now, with crimson eyes and features made sharper from blood loss. He was gorgeous in both and you never let on that you noticed him admiring himself; he deserved his likeness, after all this time.

Selwynn’s finished veil was the same one she had been working on two hundred years ago, carefully preserved for all that time. She had added some extra length to it since Astarion had returned with odes to your journey and your love. 

You held it gently in your hands, reverently looking over the delicate lace. “Selwynn, this is…this is beautiful! Thank you so much, I don’t…I don’t know what else to say. Gods, this is absolutely perfect…”

Astarion hooked his chin over your shoulder to look at the veil, resting his hands on your hips. “Oh, Ma, this is perfect! Wait, is that— Are those fangs?” He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, then gasped. “Is that me biting her?”

You giggled. “Oh, gods, it is!”

“You told my mom about me biting you because I was struggling to hunt?” Astarion whispered in your ear. “Darling…”

“I couldn’t resist,” you teased. “You were just so cute when you begged me to share my prey with you, only to find I’d eaten already so you had to feed from me.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Sometimes I think you live to embarrass me.”

“It’s a very special moment,” Selwynn reminded her son, lightly pinching his cheek. He made a sound of complaint but the smile on his face suggested he was more than happy to have his mother picking on him again. “It helped you bond together again.”

Thesan smiled into his goblet of wine. “They would have bonded even without the blood drinking, dear. I’m quite certain they always would.”

You leaned into Astarion’s arms, turning to kiss his cheek. “I have to agree with you there, Thesan. Two centuries and I still fell in love with him the second time as easily as I did the first.”

Astarion turned to you with a happy smile, almost purring as he pulled you into a deep kiss. “I love you, too,” he whispered to you, pressing his forehead to yours.

Thesan glanced at his wife. “Is it just me, or are they more touchy than they were before?” 

Selwynn’s smile was answer enough. She cleared her throat to get your attention. “Have you decided on the flowers you want yet?”

“White lilies,” you answered quickly. “There’ll be more, of course, but…the lilies are important.” You glanced at Astarion, remembering setting them on his grave, and he squeezed your hip. 

She pulled out a massive book of flowers. “Well, here—take a seat and we can find some other flowers to match.”

~❊~

You and Astarion spent the last few minutes of night on the rooftop, his arm around your shoulders, your eyes trained on the stars. His thumb rubbed your skin gently, a soothing sensation that was easily lulling you to sleep. But as soon as the sky began to lighten, both of your heads turned toward the horizon. You could feel Astarion’s longing for the sun radiating off of him. 

“Has Gale sent word yet?” Astarion asked. You could hear the barely restrained hope in his voice.

“Not yet,” you sighed. His answering huff made you reach up and squeeze his hand. “It’s alright, honey. It won’t be long now, I can feel it. We just have to be…patient.”

Astarion rubbed his temple. “I know, I know, we need to give him time to— Gods, darling, I hate taking the moral high ground, I’m getting tired of being patient, and I hate relying on—other people.”

You laid your head on his shoulder. “By ‘other people,’ do you mean specifically Gale?”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Maybe.”

You bumped your knee against his. “Be nice,” you chided, through your own small giggle as you fondly thought of the boys’ little rivalry. “He’s trying to help us out of the goodness of his heart.”

Astarion sighed dramatically. “Alright, alright—I’ll be civil, even though he has a massive crush on you.”

“He does not! Well, he did, but I’m quite certain he’s moved on, considering we invited him to our wedding.” You kissed his cheek twice in quick succession. “You’re not jealous of his unrequited love for me, are you?”

“Me? Jealous?” he scoffed, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Of course not!”

“Mmhmm,” you teased, not quite believing him. 

The two of you lapsed into comfortable silence, watching the sky become a pale lavender color. The coolness of the night began to warm by a few degrees at a time. Astarion stood and offered you his hand.

“Shall we turn in for the night, my darling?” he asked, though you could see the longing to be in the daylight on his face. You nodded and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

You stood and let him help you crawl back down the roof and wall. He dropped down onto the balcony and caught you in his arms. He held you close to his chest and kissed your forehead. 

“I think I’m quite enjoying this new strength of mine,” he purred.

You grinned at him. “Me too, remind me to keep you happy and fed so you can pick me up like I’m a feather.”

Astarion giggled and swooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style. He brought you over to the bed and gently laid you down on it, kissing you softly as he did.

“Practicing for our wedding day?” you joked, wriggling under the bedsheets and getting comfortable.

He chuckled. “Can’t I just enjoy being your knight in shining armor?” He pulled his shirt off and joined you under the blankets.

“Of course you can,” you said, pressing yourself into his side the moment he opened his arms to you for a cuddle. He hummed softly and wrapped the two of you in the blankets. “Comfortable?”

Astarion smiled against you. “Very. I’d quite forgotten what it felt like to sleep on an actual bed.”

You giggled and kissed him softly. You reached up to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone. You appreciated the beauty of his relaxed, happy face before you whispered, “I love you, Asty. I know I say it all the time, but…I’m glad to have you back.”

When he smiled, one of Astarion’s fangs peeked out over his lip. “I’m glad to be home in your arms.”

You hummed happily, leaning your head against his chest and let yourself relax against him, your hand sliding into his. Astarion kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arm around you, keeping you laying on top of him.

After what felt like a few minutes, though it could have been an hour with how little you were keeping track of the time, Astarion shifted against you. He brushed your hair behind your ear and hesitantly asked, “Darling… Are you…up for some fun, maybe?”

Drowsily, you shifted so you could look up at his face. “I could fool around for a little while. What are you thinking, Asty?”

“I…I think I want to go a little further tonight,” he said.

“How much further?”

“I want you to touch me again.”

You were waking up quickly now. “You feel ready for it?”

He nodded. “As long as we keep taking it slow, I’m ready for a little bit of touching,” he explained. “In…in baby steps.”

You smiled, kissing his jawline. “Of course, darling. What do you want to do?”

He bit his lip and met your eyes. “I think I want to…give you some attention, like we normally do—you can choose if you want to cum on my fingers or my face—and then…when I get aroused…instead of just letting it go down…” He looked away, looking a little like the embarrassed young man you’d first slept with. “We could take care of it instead?”

You grinned. “Oh, darling, of course! I’d love to take care of you, however you want.”

“Your hand,” Astarion said immediately. “I’d like to start simple.”

“And you can always stop me if you change your mind,” you reminded him, a statement that had been established between the two of you since the night Astarion asked to try being intimate with you again. 

For the past few months, you and Astarion had been treading carefully. After making love at his grave, he’d decided to slow down again, and you had respected that decision. A majority of your intimacy had been non-sexual, except for the times he sat you in his lap and reached between your legs. He’d been enjoying pleasuring you but hadn’t wanted to be touched himself, happy to take pleasure from your pleasure—until tonight.

Astarion brushed his lips over your knuckles. “Thank you, darling.” He put his hand on your hip, warm from feeding recently but burning hot from the need now coursing through your veins, even though the thin layer of your silk slip. He toyed with the hem. “May I?”

You nodded and he slipped his hand between your legs. He cupped your cunt through your panties, letting his finger slide along your slit as he pulled his hand back. He rubbed back and forth for a few minutes, pressing soft kisses to your lips as your breathing got heavier. 

Astarion hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and met your gaze. You nodded again and whispered, “Please…” He was quick to pull them down enough to get his hand against your pussy again. One finger slid between your folds, rubbing gently. 

“Already a little wet for me,” he murmured, kissing the tip of your ear. You shuddered. “Oh, did you like that, my love?” He did it again, this time lightly scraping his teeth over the shell of your ear and you whimpered softly.

Astarion brought his hand up from your slit, getting wetter by the second, and used one finger to start rubbing circles on your clit. Automatically, you bucked into his hand. Even though he’d been touching you like this for months now, it still felt new every time and sent shocks of electricity through your body. 

You let a small whine slip past your lips and Astarion beamed. “That’s it, sweet girl, let me hear you. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

You brought a hand up to his shoulder, gripping him tightly, glad you were laying down and pressed against him or the subtle pressure he was adding to your clit was going to make your knees collapse beneath you. “Astarion,” you whimpered, kissing him rapidly. “Astarion, oh gods…”

He chuckled and soothed you with his free hand rubbing your back. He kissed you deeply and you moaned into his mouth.

“Are you ready for more?” he murmured, sliding his fingers down from your clit to your entrance before you could answer. He coated his fingers in the wetness he found there. He met your eyes as he rubbed your pussy. “Do you want my fingers inside you, darling?”

“Yes, please,” you whimpered, bucking your hips into his hand. He smiled at you, his eyes fond, and teased you a few times by sliding the tip of his finger in and then pulling it out without going any further. You whined pitifully, nipping gently at his jaw.

“Alright, alright,” he relented, laughing a little. “One or two?”

You nuzzled into his neck. “Start with one.”

Astarion pushed one finger into you with ease. He began pumping it in and out, curling up to graze your spongy walls, careful to hit your favorite spot every time. He had you moaning his name into his neck in no time, your entire body shaking against his. 

“You’re doing so good for me, love,” he murmured into your ear. “You’re so tight around my fingers… I love it when you moan like this, keep saying my name, darling. Can you take another finger, sweet girl?”

You nodded. “Yes, Asty! Please, oh gods…” You moaned deeply as he pulled his finger out, then pushed two back in. You clenched tightly around his fingers. “Gods, you feel so damn good!”

Astarion grinned. “Good girl, just feel good for me, alright? Tell me how it feels, tell me what you need.”

“A l-little faster,” you stammered out between your panting breaths. 

He pumped his fingers faster, so much faster that you knew his wrist would start hurting soon. But it did the trick—you threw your head back with a loud moan, fresh slick coating his fingers. You could already feel yourself getting close, but your orgasm seemed just a little out of your reach…

“T-touch my clit? Please?” you begged. “I’m almost there…”

Astarion kept his fingers moving inside you as he brought his thumb to your clit. He pressed down lightly and began rubbing in circles. He switched the direction he moved his thumb in every so often to catch you off guard, making your legs shake every time. 

“Can I suck on your tits?” he murmured, eyeing them where they were about to spill out of your slip anyway from the angle you lay in. 

“Yes, please!” you gasped, your walls fluttering and clenching. It wouldn’t be long now.

Astarion whispered his thanks in Elvish and yanked your neckline down. He covered both of your breasts in kisses, nicking your skin with his fangs every so often and licking up the beads of blood after. He made eye contact with you as he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples and began to happily suck. His eyes fluttered shut and you put your hand in his hair, keeping his head at your breast, keeping the pressure light so he could pull away whenever he wished. He hummed happily and slowly his hips began grinding against your thigh.

His hardness filled you with unbelievable glee. You stuck your leg out further so he could get better friction. The movement opened you up more and Astarion’s fingers sank deeper into you. You wailed his name.

Astarion shut you up with a searing kiss, his lips swallowing your cries and grounding you to the reality of your bed. You moaned softly into the kiss.

“Not so loud,” he whispered when he pulled away. He looked at you with lidded eyes. “Keep up like that and you might just finish me without ever touching me.” You whined in protest and he giggled. “I thought you wouldn’t like that.”

“Can I touch you now?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Let me finish you first, darling. You’re so close, I know it. Cum for me and then you can touch me, okay?” You nodded. “Good girl. I’m gonna go a little faster to get you there, love, alright?”

You spread your legs further for him and he kissed your neck, sucking harshly. He curled his fingers deep inside you and rubbed your clit faster. Your legs began to shake, your upper body writhing. You whined until it became a sob. You felt the first waves begin to wash over you, your walls clenching rhythmically. 

“Cum for me,” Astarion demanded in your ear, his voice nearly a growl, and your body obeyed him before the order even processed in your brain. You nearly clamped your legs shut over his hand as your orgasm swept through you, the feeling like glass shattering throughout your body. You bit down on his neck, your teeth sinking in. You tasted his blood, sweet as honey wine on your tongue.

“Astarion!” you whined as you came down from your high, cuddling into his side. He pumped his fingers a few more times, helping you ride it out. He pulled his fingers out of you at the perfect time and sucked them clean, moaning as he did. You whimpered. 

Astarion wrapped his arms around you. “You’re alright,” he soothed, kissing your forehead. “You did good for me, darling. You did so well.”

You rested briefly against his chest, catching your breath. After a few moments, you wriggled against him. “Your turn?” 

“Rest for a minute,” he murmured. He kissed the top of your head.

“Do you still want this?” you asked, scratching his scalp.

Astarion brought one of your hands down to his crotch and gently placed your hand over his length. He gasped, his brows pinching together. “Oh, gods, yes, I want this,” he breathed, hips bucking into your hand. “Darling, you— You feel…”

You smiled at him, kissing his neck softly. “Oh, honey, I’ve barely touched you!”

He blushed. “I know… I’m not gonna last long when you really start touching me.”

“Speaking of… What do you want me to do?” you asked. “What do you think you’re comfortable with?”

He bucked his hips experimentally again. “Start with rubbing me over my pants. You can try squeezing me a little. I…I want to try a regular handjob.”

You started moving your hand over his bulge, reveling in the way he reacted with a sharp intake of breath and his hips desperately following your hand. You watched his face for the key signs that he was disassociating. But his eyelashes were simply fluttering in pleasure. 

“How’s that feel?” you asked, giving him a gentle squeeze. He moaned happily.

“Good,” he panted. “Really good, keep doing that.”

“Rubbing then squeezing?” you clarified. He nodded quickly. You continued the pace, rubbing his bulge until you felt him kick up beneath your hand, then squeezing his length as best as you could through his pants.

Astarion began wiggling underneath you, a flush spreading from his face down to his neck. You cooed at him.

“Do you want more, pretty boy? Does this feel good?”

The flush spread to his chest. “Take my pants off,” he pleaded. “I need to feel more of you.”

You raised an eyebrow, taking your hand off of him. You gently unlaced his pants and began sliding them down his legs. You took your panties completely off your legs at the same time, kicking them to the floor, for your own comfort. “Do you want your boxers on or off?”

Astarion panted, thinking about it. Then he nodded. “Off, I want them off. I want to feel your skin on mine.”

You nodded and kissed him softly. “Thank you for telling me. Keep telling me what you want, okay? If it’s too much, stop me.”

“I will,” he promised. 

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. He did the same, ready to help you. “Lift your hips,” you told him. When he did, the two of you pushed his boxers off his waist. You pulled them down his legs, trying not to stare at his erection, and crawled back up to lay down next to him. You tucked yourself into his side again and looked up at his face.

“I’m okay,” he assured you, answering your question before you could even get it out. “Please touch me.”

You reached down, coated your hand in your own juices, and laid your hand over his hard cock. He took a steadying breath and nodded for you to continue. You wrapped your hand around him and slowly began stroking him. 

Astarion let out a loud moan, his hips stuttering into your hand. 

“Look who’s being loud now,” you teased. The flush reaching his chest deepened.

Slowly, as he got used to your rhythm, Astarion began fucking into your hand, rolling his hips at a leisurely pace you were careful to match. 

“Feel good?” you asked him, nuzzling against him. He nodded. “Words, please, honey.”

Astarion nodded again and rasped out, “Feels great, darling… Don’t stop, please, don’t stop what you’re doing.”

“Good boy,” you whispered and his cock twitched in your hand. You raised a brow but left that for a later discussion. 

You watched Astarion carefully, appreciating the way he reacted to your touch. A thin sheen of sweat coated his skin, created both through his writhing and the attempt to hold back his orgasm. His hips pistoned into your fist, his face blissful and his lashes fluttering rapidly, his legs shaking, his hands unable to keep still.

You took his hand in your free one and squeezed gently. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of your hand. You smiled warmly at him.

“Can—oh, gods, fuck!—can you go a little faster?” he asked, panting heavily. 

“Of course, honey,” you promised. You leaned down to kiss his neck, soothing your love bite with your tongue, as you pumped him faster, letting him whine against your lips. You glanced down, watching the pre-cum start to leak from his cock. “Gods, you’re a pretty sight when you feel good…”

Astarion whimpered and nestled into your neck. He bucked a little more ferociously into your hand, smiling into your skin. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Astarion,” you murmured, kissing the top of his head. “Still feeling good?”

He nodded. “But…can you pay more attention to my head?”

You looked down at his pink, leaking tip. “Sure thing, honey.” You swiped your thumb over his tip, collecting his pre-cum and further slicking his cock with it. He whined, the muscles of his abdomen tightening. You brought your hand up to his head and focused on stimulating it. Astarion’s whines became incredibly high-pitched as he threw his head back.

“Darling, I’m— I’m close,” he gasped, hips losing their rhythm. 

You met his gaze and looked at him lovingly, using your free hand to brush his hair from his forehead. You kissed his forehead and his lips latched onto your neck. You felt his teeth sink in, giving you a love bite to match the one you’d sucked onto his neck. “Cum for me,” you whispered to him, echoing his earlier statement to you.

Just as it had been for you, the command was magic. Astarion moaned wantonly and fucked your hand desperately until his entire body curled inward as he came. Thick ropes of cum fell onto your hand. His orgasm racked his whole body and lasted far longer than you had expected. You stroked him gently, pumping him through it until he let out a little whimper of overstimulation.

You let him go and licked your hand clean just as he had. He stared at you with a little smile on his face. With your hand clean, you laid back down next to him.

“Are you okay?” you asked, gently rubbing your hand over his chest and stomach.

Astarion grinned at you. “That was… Gods. That was wonderful. I feel great!” He let out a little giggle, slightly astonished. “I feel like I’m floating.” He rolled onto his side and pulled you into his arms. “Thank you for doing that.”

You kissed him gently, licking into his mouth and letting him deepen it. He dominated the kiss quickly and you let him take control. He made a small sound of surprise and you realized he could taste himself on your tongue. 

A string of spit connected your lips when he pulled away. The two of you giggled, the sexual tension in the room thinning immediately. You pulled him back down to you and cuddled into his chest. 

“Any time you want to be touched, I will do whatever you ask,” you promised. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

“Let me clean you up, Asty,” you said. You pulled a washcloth from the nightstand—which had been prepared for this like it always had been two centuries ago—and gently wiped him clean. He took it from you and did the same to you, then pulled the covers back over you.

“Can we sleep naked?” he asked. “I want your skin tonight.”

You nodded. “I want yours, too,” you agreed. You snuggled into his side, resting your head against his chest. “This was amazing, Astarion.”

He hummed his agreement, kissing your nose. “Absolutely fantastic.”

“But this isn’t all you are to me, Asty,” you reminded him. “I know I say it every time we do anything sexual, but you could tell me right now you wanted it all to stop and I wouldn’t protest. I’d stay by your side. You are enough for me.”

Astarion hugged you tight. “You don’t have to worry about that, darling. You’ll get all of me again one day, I promise. I… I trust you with my body, more than I’ve ever trusted anyone with anything before.” He kissed you gingerly. 

You blinked back the joyful tears that had filled your eyes. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Astarion laced your fingers together. “I love you, too.” He met your gaze. “How did I get so lucky to find you again? To be marrying you again?”

“I think your dad’s right,” you said. “I think we’d find each other again in any universe.”

Astarion buried his face into your neck and mumbled something that sounded like, “Love you.”

You wrapped him up in your arms and whispered, “Love you, too.”

One after the other, you dropped into trance, your hands still laced together. The love bites you’d left each other slowly deepened in color throughout the night. Your memories were peaceful and mostly of Astarion. You had a long road ahead of you, but it was a road you’d walk together. With Astarion at your side, your worries faded away; things would turn out fine.

☞ ❊ ☜

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel @cheeslyy @ofmyth-andmagicart @neetheslayer @whispering-depths @freesidexjunkie @lightsinmycity @the0ldmann @gobbodoggo @oooof-ifellforyou @beeblisss @fangboner @aquaarietes @fiercest-eigengrau-skies @niqhtfell @call-me-nyxx @lueji-m @ceres-xiv @tricksy-trinity @graynstairs @rosa-rubus @ynisthatyou @thegoodwitchs-blog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @kiyastrf94 @vincemachina @silverfangmarks @ravenswritingroom @hinata7346 @hellethil @makepastanotwar13 @caramel-hufflepuff @beemiilk @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @starwatch77 @julianmarie @sadexistentialism @supernaturallover15 @writinghound @frankie-mercury @kindadolly @infernalrusalka

[notiddygothgf]

14. Taxi

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Make sure Sleeping Beauty over there doesn't puke all over that pretty dress of yours, yeah?  ❞

★ c.w.: smut. drinking (NOT BETA'd. olivia will be my beta-er.) (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: guess who dropped calculussssss!!!! yeah so it didnt wind up working out. i'm like going crazy rn and this story is the only thing keeping me sane. anyway! enjoy this! i had such a blast writing it. most importantly, keep on commenting! you guys keep me goin.

★ w.c: .6.8k

shameless ; chapter index

IT WAS LATE TUESDAY EVENING. Makima was throwing another Newbie welcome party. Your husband had refused to come, saying something about a meeting he had, something about a schedule conflict before kissing your cheek and walking out. You were standing in the lobby of the reception hall, black cocktail dress on, lips painted red, makeup compact open in your palm while you scrutinized your reflection. 

It was 7 PM, the party had started an hour ago, and still, no call from Aki. You told yourself you hadn’t gotten dressed up for him, but as you caught a glimpse of the red against your skin, you wondered just a bit what he’d think when he saw you tonight. A trace of a smile slipped across your lips as you brushed a finger along the edge of your liner, thinking about his sharp, quiet gaze, the way he always looked like he was sizing up a storm in his head.

The thought made you shift on your heels, scanning the room. Seven on the dot, and still no Aki. Strange.

You closed the compact, slipping it into your clutch just as a familiar figure sidled up beside you, grinning.

“Well, now this is something,” Himeno teased, her eyes dancing as she took in your appearance. “You’ve actually arrived before your shadow.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at her. “Where is he, anyway?”

Himeno gave a nonchalant shrug, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers. “Think you just missed him, actually. Stepped out with Denji not too long ago,” she hummed, her eyes glinting with a playful spark. “Should be back any minute. Why? Missing your boyfriend already?”

So he is here early. Typical.

A smile played on your lips as you leaned against the bar. “Not my boyfriend,” you corrected, though the denial felt softer than you intended. “But… maybe I am.”

Himeno smirked, nudging you with her elbow. “Oh, I see how it is. All dolled up just for him, huh?”

You laughed again, brushing off the comment. “I dressed up for the event. For everyone. Not for him.”

“Right,” Himeno replied, raising her eyebrows with an exaggerated nod. “You just happened to pick out the dress that’ll make Aki’s brain short-circuit when he sees it.”

Your cheeks warmed slightly, but you refused to let her get to you. “He’ll have to behave,” you said, though you weren’t convinced by the words.

The grand hall was alive with a soft golden glow, tall windows adorned with silk drapes framing the nighttime skyline, and chandeliers casting a warm, intimate light over everything below. Tables lined the walls, each decorated with carefully arranged flowers, while guests mingled in clusters, laughter and conversation creating a steady, harmonious hum. There was an elegance to the space that made you feel like you'd stepped into a scene far removed from the typical demands of the job—almost like you were someone else, someone not bound by secrets or silent glances.

Himeno looped her arm through yours as the two of you wandered further inside, catching up on the usual things—how busy work had been, what new, funny things you’d overheard around the office.

Her eyes sparkled knowingly as she looked at you, amused, before an acquaintance of hers called her over. With an apologetic grin, she squeezed your shoulder, murmuring, “I’ll be back. Try not to get too distracted while I’m gone.”

Left on your own, you wandered among the elegantly dressed guests, your heart racing just a bit faster than usual. You could feel some eyes turning your way—polite, indifferent, but still, enough to make you wonder if they knew something you didn’t want them to. Did they sense the quickening of your pulse, the way you searched the crowd almost instinctively? Or worse, could they somehow know about Aki, and the way your thoughts always seemed to find their way back to him?

With Himeno gone, you found yourself adrift, wandering slowly around the room, unsure of where to settle. The crowd was thick with people, faces both familiar and unfamiliar, all talking, laughing, glasses of champagne in hand. As you moved through the clusters of guests, you could feel it—that prickling sensation at the back of your neck. Glances were being cast your way, fleeting and sideways, some lingering a beat too long before they shifted back to their conversations. You tried to convince yourself it was just because of the dress, or maybe because you weren't blending in as easily as you thought, but the feeling lingered.

The more eyes you caught, the harder it was to ignore the creeping suspicion that there was something more behind them. Did they know? You kept your expression serene, calm, but beneath that calm, questions twisted and tangled. Maybe someone had noticed the way you and Aki sometimes gravitated toward each other at work, the rare glances that lasted a fraction too long, the way you'd sometimes linger in doorways as though waiting for him to appear. 

And if they did know—what were they thinking? The thought made your stomach clench. There was no denying the potential consequences if people found out, if whispers started. The idea of your connection with Aki being exposed, stripped of the privacy you’d both guarded so carefully, sent a jolt of unease through you. You couldn’t bear the idea of becoming fodder for office gossip, or worse, risking his reputation.

An unbidden thought wormed its way in: Would he still care if people found out? Or would he just carry on, unaffected? You shook it off, annoyed at yourself for even entertaining it. Aki had always been the careful one, the one with more at stake, and you knew he wasn’t the type to let others get in the way of what mattered to him.

But here, surrounded by strangers, you felt uncomfortably bare, like people could see right through you. You felt as if your secret was etched across your face for anyone who bothered to look.

Then, just as you were considering slipping away to find a quiet corner, a voice, smooth and familiar, cut through the noise behind you. “Can I have the honor of bringing you a drink?”

You spun around, and there he was, standing close, his icy blue gaze meeting yours with that easy warmth that managed to quiet every doubt swirling in your head. His smile was subtle, restrained, yet there was a certain spark in his eyes, as though he could see right past the formalities, past the anxiety.

“Aki,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

“Long time, no see, troublemaker,” he replied lightly, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed him. “You looked like you could use a drink,” he added, holding out a glass. As you took it, your fingers brushed, and for just a second, the world narrowed to that point of contact, every stare, every doubt slipping away, as though he were all that mattered.

“Behave. We’re in public,” You reminded him gently – the way a teenage girl would tell her boyfriend to ‘Stawwwwp’ when he play-fought with her. You were sick, you really were.

He quirked a brow, “I don’t think I did anything remarkable by buying you a drink.”

“People already talk,” You replied. “You don’t think it’s strange that the hardass Captain Hayakawa warmed up to one of his subordinates so quickly despite only having met her in public a handful of times?”

He shrugged as if he couldn’t possibly care less. “Let them talk, then. You look beautiful tonight.”

And, like you were 16 all over again, your cheeks warmed at his words. You took a cheeky little sip of the drink he had brought you – Merlot. Your favorite wine. This close to him, you could smell his cologne – that scent you knew so well, combined with the faintest hint of his detergent, of nicotine. You had spent half of the past few months tangled in his sheets. You would have been able to recognize him with your eyes closed, truly.

“And you’re misbehaving,” You retorted, a tongue-in-cheek comment that you knew he would make you eat when he got you alone. 

“Who’s responsible for that?” He answered back without missing so much as a beat. Stepping closer to you, damn near crossing that line between ‘we’re coworkers’ and ‘she and I are having an affair’, he dropped his voice, “That dress looks amazing on you.”

You couldn’t help the grin that took over your face. The warmth that churned in your gut. “Thank you.”

The two of you began to walk around the room. As you strolled alongside Aki, conversation slipping easily between you, you couldn’t ignore the sense of being watched. It was subtle at first—a flicker of movement in your periphery, a quiet murmur that seemed to fade whenever you glanced around.

But then, you caught sight of them: curious eyes fixed on you, darting quickly away when you noticed, but not quickly enough. Their expressions held that familiar mix of polite interest and quiet judgment, a slight narrowing of brows that sent a wave of unease crawling up your spine.

The stares felt sharper, cutting through the careful facade you were trying so hard to maintain. Your heart raced as a thought wormed its way into your mind: They all know.

You shot a glance at Aki, feeling the heat rise to your face. The easy, flirtatious air you’d shared just moments ago suddenly felt fragile, as if it might shatter under the weight of so many eyes. You swallowed hard, nerves turning to panic. If anyone suspected even a fraction of what lingered between you and Aki, it would spread like wildfire. You couldn’t bear to think about the consequences—for him, for you.

Just as the realization started to sink in, you felt a presence at your side, and there she was—Himeno. Without missing a beat, she slid her arm around yours and Aki’s, drawing both of you closer with an effortless ease that seemed to diffuse the tension around you. Her voice cut through the silence with cheerful bravado, clearly meant to distract any lingering gazes. “There you two are! I was just talking to someone about how great it was being able to catch up with you the other day.”

Himeno cast you a knowing glance, a subtle grin that held an unspoken promise of discretion. With a skill that only she could pull off, she steered the conversation into safer territory, dropping a casual comment about the last mission, something innocuous that allowed you to breathe again.

Then, the three of you kept walking. The onlookers returned to their business.

You managed a laugh, though it felt a bit too high-pitched, a bit too forced. But Himeno kept up the chatter, her presence a welcome buffer as she guided you and Aki through the crowded hall, almost as though she was giving the onlookers a reason to lose interest. Her laughter and bright words cast a shield around the three of you, and for a moment, it worked. The weight of the stares started to lift, the sharpness of their gazes fading into a hum of background noise.

“We’re getting our drink on later, right?” She asked Aki– or you, you weren’t really sure.

“I’m supposed to drive home,” Aki answered.

She pouted, “So what? Call a taxi.”

“I’ll have a few with you,” You said. “But only a few.”

You fell into the flow of conversation as best you could, though it was hard to focus with your nerves still on edge. Every now and then, you caught Aki’s gaze as he glanced at you, brow knit slightly in concern, but you both played along, letting Himeno’s words carry the rhythm.

But then, just as you started to relax, to settle back into the night, you spotted him over Aki’s shoulder. Your husband had arrived, standing at the edge of the crowd, his gaze scanning the room. Your stomach dropped, a sick feeling clawing its way up as you tried to think – then he saw you.

What the hell is he doing here?

Before you could even process the thought, he began walking closer, his face composed, unreadable. Panic set in as you realized the impossible tightrope you were balancing on, and you tried to steady your breathing, to keep your expression neutral. Did he know? Or would he just see you as he always did, like you were any other guest in the room?

You tried to shake off the feeling, to rejoin the conversation, but the momentary calm had vanished. Your thoughts raced as you walked through the crowd, navigating the distance between yourself and your husband like it was a dangerous line.

You turned your back, saying, “You buying?”

“It’s an open bar,” She replied. You tried to look normal, to get lost in the sound of her voice, but it didn’t work, “Miss Makima is buying.”

The moment you heard that unmistakable voice behind you, it felt like your heart froze mid-beat. 

“Hi, honey,” your husband’s voice cut through the buzz of the room, smooth and calm. But there was an edge to it, one that sent a jolt of dread straight down your spine. 

You saw Aki’s head perk up, and his eyes narrowed, sharpening into thin slits as he turned, locking his gaze on your husband with a quiet, intense focus. His stance shifted subtly, almost imperceptibly—his hands folded neatly behind his back, his expression unreadable yet taut. He looked every bit the Lieutenant Captain he was, poised and formidable, the easy-going demeanor from earlier vanishing in an instant.

"So, you’re the husband I’ve heard so much about!” Himeno chirped, trying to cover the tension with her usual bravado, stepping forward with a bright smile. She wrapped her arms around your shoulders and squeezed, as though the gesture could somehow shield you from the impending disaster.

Your husband’s half-lidded gaze shifted briefly to her, though his smile barely reached his eyes. "And you are?” His tone was polite, but you could hear the skepticism in it, that subtle doubt as his gaze lingered over Himeno's shoulder, his eyes landing back on Aki, scrutinizing.

You tried to swallow down the knot tightening in your throat, forcing yourself to maintain a calm expression. “Tanimoto, this is Himeno, one of my coworkers,” you said, gesturing to her with a forced, polite smile. Your heart was racing, a nervous energy simmering under your skin, knowing that everything hung by a thread.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Tanimoto nodded, acknowledging Himeno with a quick glance, but his focus quickly returned to Aki, whose steely gaze met his head-on. Neither of them seemed inclined to look away.

This is bad. You felt your pulse spike, every instinct screaming that this was the worst possible situation, an unthinkable confrontation playing out right in front of you.

You cleared your throat, trying to smooth over the tension. “Hayakawa,” you said, gesturing to Aki with a shaky smile, “This is my— my husband, Tanimoto.”

Why was that so hard to say?

Your husband’s expression flickered as he finally extended his hand—only to Aki. The move felt deliberate, his gesture one of formal politeness rather than genuine warmth. Aki glanced down at the outstretched hand, his face unreadable, but made no move to take it.

“Kyoto, right?” Aki asked instead, his tone flat, as if the question itself were a test.

Tanimoto’s brow quirked slightly, but he kept his expression controlled. “Yes. You’re familiar?”

Aki held his gaze, his tone unyielding. “I’m Lieutenant Captain. It’s my job.”

“I’m saying I don’t know what you thought you were doing in Tokyo,” he said, his voice rising. “But word travels in Public Safety. There are rumors about you dancing around with a little Captain, or some shit.”

A flicker of surprise crossed your husband’s face, a slight widening of his eyes as he absorbed the title, the unexpected rank that carried a weight all its own. But he recovered quickly, giving a polite nod. “Of course. My apologies,” he said, with a practiced smoothness.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, the air thick with an unspoken tension that felt fucking electric. 

Himeno, sensing the palpable strain, chimed in with a bright smile. “Well, it’s always nice to meet family! We’re so glad you could join us, even if just for a little bit.” Her voice had an airy quality to it, intentionally lighthearted, but you could see the slight worry in her eyes as she glanced between you and Aki.

Tanimoto didn’t answer her right away. He kept his gaze on Aki a beat longer, then turned to you, his smile settling into something unreadable. “Would you mind if I steal my lovely wife away? Just for a moment?”

Himeno’s gaze flicked to you, silently asking if you were alright. 

You managed a quick nod, and she gave a cheery, “Of course! We’ll be right here when you get back.” Her tone was bright as always, her words meant as reassurance as she gently released her grip on you.

The moment Himeno stepped back, Tanimoto turned and started toward a quieter area a few feet away, his posture rigid. Your heart thundered as you took a breath, then stepped forward, catching up to him as you plastered on a smile, though the pulse in your throat felt thick, tense. 

“I thought you couldn’t make it tonight?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, neutral.

“Meeting let up early,” he answered, his voice clipped. His gaze scanned the room briefly, as though he were evaluating everything around him. “I came to take you home.”

He was mad.

Your heart dropped, and you barely suppressed the urge to step back. You forced a casual smile, though your chest tightened as you tried to gauge his expression. 

"What?" You asked, laughter bubbling up, sounding forced to your own ears. "No, that won’t be necessary."

You shot a quick glance over your shoulder. Aki was still talking to Himeno, but you could feel his blue eyes on you every few seconds, a silent question in his gaze each time it flickered your way. You swallowed, steadying yourself.

"I’m staying. I’ll catch a taxi back," You added, hoping it sounded convincing, though your voice wavered slightly. “The party just started, like, an hour ago.”

Tanimoto’s expression hardened, suspicion flickering over his face as he regarded you. He hesitated, his eyes narrowing as if weighing your words. A long, tense moment passed before he sighed, the sound reluctant, yet resigned. "Alright," he replied slowly. "But don’t be out too late."

He stepped forward to kiss you on the cheek, his lips nearing, and instinctively, you winced, ducking away before he could reach you. His expression darkened slightly, though he quickly masked it, a smile slipping over his features like an ill-fitting glove.

This is horrible.

There was a beat of silence, a silent acknowledgment that neither of you addressed. Then he straightened, nodding curtly. 

"Well," he said, glancing over at Aki and Himeno, "Excuse me for interrupting. Nice meeting you all."

With that, he turned on his heel and made his way to the exit, his footsteps echoing as he left the hall. You exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding over you as the tension began to dissipate.

Himeno was instantly at your side, her expression half-amused, half-concerned as she watched him disappear. "Thanks for covering," you murmured, your shoulders sagging as you let yourself relax for the first time since he’d arrived.

She gave you a sly grin, patting your arm gently. "No problem," she said, shooting a quick glance at Aki, who was watching you both carefully, his arms crossed, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. "But we’ll need to talk later, girl," she added, her voice low and teasing, though there was a note of worry in her eyes.

Aki’s gaze softened as he stepped closer, a flicker of relief passing over his face. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he would have a lot to say later.

Himeno cleared her throat, “So… would now be a good time to hit up that bar?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” You sighed, turning away from Aki’s piercing gaze. You couldn’t bear to look at him. No, you were ashamed. Polishing off the rest of your wine in one go, you added, “I need something stronger than this.”

As the night went on, the conversation began to flow a little easier – as did the booze. In fact, by the time the party was drawing to a close, the three of you were completely inebriated. Himeno had that pinkish flush to her face that you remembered so well. Aki was practically slumped over after his (??)th cocktail of the night. You were blinking tiredly at Himeno, at whatever story she was telling you that you hadn’t been listening to.

The three of you were stood outside of the venue. Arms crossed over your body to brace yourself against the cold wind, you replied, “That’s bull.”

“That’s what I said!” Himeno slurred. “I told him to quit playing in my face. It’s a real problem – men, these days.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” You agreed half-assedly, gaze trickling over to your lover, whose eyes were glazed over with a drunken look. He was in no shape to drive back, that was for sure. “Aki, are you driving home?”

“Yeah, I…” He swallowed, swaying slightly on his feet – at six-foot-something, he looked like a skyscraper, bending in the wind. Slowly, like he had to think extra hard about it, he continued, “Yeah… I am.”

“I don’t think so,” Himeno answered before you could say the same thing. “You should call a taxi.”

“Taxis are for wussies,” Aki grumbled beneath his breath. Still, when you cast him a pout, he stepped towards the curb. 

So cute.

The wind outside the venue felt sharper against your flushed skin, biting through the remnants of warmth left over from the drinks. You crossed your arms over your chest, bracing against the chill, though the sight of Aki swaying slightly on his feet in his drunken stupor was enough to bring a small smile to your face.

“Come on, Aki. Be sensible,” you coaxed, giving him a soft pout of your own.

He sighed, reluctantly stepping toward the curb to wave a taxi down. It was cute, watching him try to flag one down with all the determination he could muster, though most cars drove past him without so much as slowing down.

Himeno leaned in, nudging you gently. “He doesn’t look so hot. Maybe you should see him home safe?”

You sighed, glancing over at Aki as he cursed at a passing taxi. “You’re probably right.”

He grumbled something incoherent, swaying a bit as another cab sped past him. 

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “What a night.”

“What a night, indeed, girly.” Himeno pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a long drag before she exhaled into the cold night air. She held the pack toward you, her eyes half-lidded with a mixture of exhaustion and tipsy satisfaction. You declined politely, and she shrugged, tucking it back into her bag.

“So… you cab-hopping with us?” you asked, feeling a bit of reluctance at the thought of her leaving.

She shook her head, her lips curving into a sly grin. “Nah. When you drink on the daily, driving comes naturally.” She waved you off with a lazy salute.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a taxi slowed to a stop at the curb, and Aki staggered up to it, gesturing for you to get in. “It’s for you,” he called, the words a bit slurred. “Get you home safe.”

You stepped closer, folding your arms and giving him a playful look. “I’m coming home with you,” you called back.

His eyes widened, and then, he smirked, one of those warm, lazy smiles that made your heart skip. “I like the sound of that.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Just get in the damn taxi. I wanna say bye, first.” 

He pouted but got in, slumping down and muttering to the driver, half-lidded eyes still on you as he settled into the seat.

You turned back to Himeno, laughing softly. “Get home safe, okay?”

She took another drag of her cigarette, her gaze softening a bit. “You too. And make sure Sleeping Beauty over there doesn’t puke all over that pretty dress of yours, yeah?”

You grinned. “I’ll see you around?”

“Always,” she replied, giving you a wink as she turned, already headed back inside the venue.

With one last glance, you slipped into the taxi, shutting the door behind you. The driver pulled away, and you relaxed into the seat, feeling the tension of the night start to ebb. Aki was staring out the window, a soft smile on his face, and when he caught sight of you beside him, his expression softened.

As the taxi moved through the quiet streets, Aki’s head lulled to the side, and he let out a small sigh before resting it against your shoulder. You stiffened at first, the unexpected weight and warmth of him surprising. But he looked so peaceful, so unguarded in this moment that you felt the tightness in your shoulders ease.

“Missed you,” he murmured, his voice soft and heavy with drowsiness, each word dragging as if he were only half-awake.

In a rare, unfiltered moment of abandon, he leaned further into you, snuggling against your shoulder shamelessly, letting out a contented hum. You found yourself smiling softly, letting your head rest against his for just a moment, savoring the quiet intimacy that had so rarely been yours to enjoy.

“Aki, don’t be a baby,” You laughed.

Aki pressed a wet kiss to your neck, then another. “I can’t wait to get you out of this dress,” He slurred against your skin. 

A part of you yearned for nothing more than that. Still, one spare glance over at him, at the way he was practically slumped over you – six feet of man nearly crushing you – and you knew no such thing was happening.

Sure, you thought to yourself.

Five minutes later, you finally managed to steer him through the front door. Once you reached the bed, Aki all but collapsed onto it, sprawling out immediately, limbs splayed as he peered up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze that was both bleary and endearing. You stood over him, shaking your head as you reached for his blazer, fumbling a little with the sleeves as he sat half-propped up, his arms nearly dead weight in your hands.

“Gotta take this off,” you murmured, mostly to yourself, as you tugged the blazer free. He blinked at you, a sleepy smile pulling at his lips.

“Come to bed,” he drawled, his words stretching out as he reached for you, pulling you down so you were inches from him.

“Just a minute,” you promised with a soft laugh, brushing his hand away gently. “I’m just going to take my shoes off. Be right back.”

Reluctantly, he released his hold on you, and you watched him flop back, eyes following you with a warm, bleary gaze as you walked over to his dresser. After a moment’s thought, you pulled open one of the drawers and found an old T-shirt—soft and worn from years of wear—and slipped it out, holding it close as you headed to the bathroom.

Inside, you closed the door behind you, taking a steadying breath as you caught your reflection in the mirror. You looked a little undone, your makeup smudged, hair slightly tousled, but the dress… it still looked good, clinging to you in all the right places. You took one last look, savoring the way you looked tonight, then slipped out of the dress, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. You reached for the T-shirt, pulling it over your head and letting it drape down, its fabric oversized and comfortable against your skin, smelling faintly of him.

The mirror caught your eye again as you reached for his face wash, and with a soft smile, you lathered it up between your hands, then began gently washing away the remnants of your makeup, the cool water a refreshing relief on your skin. Rinsing off the last traces, you looked up at your reflection, a little softer now, a little more natural—and somehow, that felt even better.

With a final glance at the mirror, you turned off the faucet and padded back to the bedroom, where Aki lay sprawled out, just as you’d left him, his eyes now closed. Smiling, you climbed into bed beside him, careful not to disturb him too much, though as soon as you settled, he shifted instinctively, rolling toward you. His arm draped over you, heavy but comforting, and he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

“Aki,” you whispered with a grin, your hand brushing gently over his back. “I have to go… my husband…”

He hummed, barely conscious, and mumbled, “Few more minutes…” His hand curled a little tighter around you as if refusing to let go.

You bit back a quiet laugh and let yourself relax, resting one hand on his shoulder as the other threaded through his hair. You traced gentle circles into his scalp, brushing his hair back, and he settled deeper into sleep, his breathing falling into a soft, steady rhythm.

Settling down beside him, you let out a quiet, contented sigh as Aki instinctively rolled toward you, his arm slipping over your waist with a sleepy possessiveness. His face nestled close to your neck, and you could feel the faint warmth of his breath against your skin, soft and steady, a rhythm that seemed to calm your own heartbeat. You stayed still for a moment, just letting yourself savor the feeling of his weight pressing into you, grounding you, his entire presence a heavy warmth against your side.

With a gentle smile, you shifted, letting your hand drift to his hair, fingers sinking into the soft, inky strands that spilled over his forehead and brushed against his closed eyelids. His hair was messy from the night, a few pieces sticking up in places, and the sight filled you with a deep tenderness. Slowly, you began to run your fingers through it, smoothing it back gently, and as you did, you felt him release a soft sigh, his body relaxing even more fully into the mattress.

You let your fingertips trace along his scalp in gentle, rhythmic strokes, moving from his forehead back to the nape of his neck, where the hair grew slightly coarser. He let out a little contented murmur, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he shifted closer to you, his arm tightening just a little around your waist as if to keep you there. The sound he made was so endearing, so soft, that it made you ache with a fondness that was almost too much to hold inside.

As your hand moved along the curve of his head, brushing back a few loose strands that had fallen over his eyes, you let your thumb trace softly along his temple, feeling the slight warmth of his skin beneath it. He looked so peaceful, his usual furrowed brow now relaxed, his sharp features softened in sleep. You could see the faint shadows under his eyes—traces of all the late nights and worries that weighed on him more than he let on—and it made you wish you could keep him like this, in this tranquil state, where everything was quiet and safe.

You continued petting his hair, your hand moving with a tender slowness, tracing little circles along his scalp, letting your fingertips drift along his hairline. Occasionally, he’d mumble something incoherent in his sleep, his lips barely moving as he settled deeper into slumber, his face nuzzling closer to the crook of your neck. You could feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin, a light, tickling sensation that made you smile.

Minutes stretched on in a warm, quiet haze as you watched him, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips parted slightly in relaxation. At one point, he murmured something close to a whisper, his arm curling around you a little tighter, and you couldn’t help but press a soft kiss to the crown of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of him—something warm and grounding that seemed to soothe something deep within you.

As the clock ticked on toward 11 p.m., you felt a small pang of reluctance, knowing you’d have to get up soon, but still, you waited a few moments longer. You let yourself linger, your hand threading through his hair one last time, your thumb brushing over his cheek in a gentle, barely-there caress. Aki let out a final, contented sigh, his breathing deep and even, and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest as you realized he was fully, blissfully asleep.

At last, with a soft exhale, you began to ease yourself out of his hold, moving slowly so as not to wake him, your fingers slipping away from his hair. You brushed one last stray lock from his forehead before gently shifting off the bed, giving him one last fond look as he lay there, still wrapped in peaceful dreams – dreams which you could only hope were about you.

407… 408… 409… 410. You drunkenly read the numbers off of the wall as you stumbled towards you and your husband’s hotel room. 413.. 413… 413! Found it.

You opened the door with the key quietly, as if it would make any difference. Your husband could have slept through anything. Gently, you opened the door, and shut it behind you even more gently. When you were sure that he was still asleep, you kicked your heels off – yes, you got into a cab wearing Aki’s tee as a dress to accompany your high heels. Your dress was tucked beneath your arm. 

It was dark in the room. So dark, in fact, that you could hardly see your own two legs as they moved towards the bedroom. 

Is he here? You thought to yourself. Your heart rate climbed at the prospect of him leaving – perhaps he had sniffed you out, after all?

Just then, someone – your husband, assumedly – flicked the lamp on. He was sat directly beneath it, perched in the loveseat with a book propped open in his hands. 

Since when did he read? You thought. And what’s with the freaky lighting?

Swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat, you spoke, “You reading in the dark?”

He said nothing. With a shrug, you set your belongings down on the desk. 

“Sorry I’m back so late. I had to bring Himeno home,” You huffed out a humorless little laugh. “She drank too much for her own good.”

Again, he said nothing. You froze, eyes locking onto the figure settled beneath the lamp – the figure of the man you used to love. The lamp above him cast shadows across his face, catching on the edges of his cheekbones and making his eyes seem hollowed, calculating.

Slowly, he closed his book, fingers lingering over the cover as he looked up at you, his expression unreadable. There was a hint of something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes—disappointment, or maybe anger, simmering just beneath the surface.

“I stayed up to talk to you,” he said, finally breaking the silence. His voice was low, calm, but something about it made you feel small, like a child caught in a lie.

“Oh?” you managed, swallowing down the uneasy feeling that had been growing in your chest. “About what?”

His gaze never left you as he spoke, his voice coldly measured. “I wanted to tell you that you might, by indiscretion, give the world a reason to talk about you.”

“I’m not a committee,” you replied, attempting a casual smile, though it came off more strained than you’d intended. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He took a deep breath, leaning forward, his fingers laced together. “You and Captain Hayakawa attracted attention tonight.” His voice remained even, though you caught a flicker of something sharp in his gaze. “I didn’t notice anything myself, but it seems everyone else did.”

Shit.

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “What on earth are you talking about?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Look, I’ve told you this before, and I’ll say it again. I have no right to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. Your decisions concern only your moral compass. But I wanted to remind you that we are married, bound by god. Only a sin against him can break that bond.”

You felt a swell of frustration, heat rising in your cheeks. “I would hardly consider conversation to be a sin.”

He cocked his head, his eyes narrowed as if dissecting you, trying to catch the slightest falter. “A conversation is just what we see,” he said quietly. “Who knows what could have happened while you were out… gallivanting?”

The accusation, so thinly veiled, made you go rigid. “You’re accusing me, then?” you said, a slight tremor in your voice. “Accusing me of… cheating?”

“I never said that.” His gaze remained steady, unwavering. “Unless, of course, there’s something you’re not telling me?”

The words struck a nerve, and you bit back an exasperated sigh, the tension inside you bubbling over. “You don’t like it when I don’t talk to people, and you don’t like it when I do,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Stop doing that… that thing where you talk circles around me. It’s too late for this.”

The room felt suffocating, his presence weighing heavily on you, pressing down until you couldn’t take it anymore. Turning on your heel, you began to make your way to the bathroom, needing a moment of quiet, a second to breathe. He moved as if to follow, but you held up a hand, not looking back.

“Don’t follow me,” you said, the words barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you.

Without another glance, you walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You took a breath and stared into the mirror. Reaching up, you began to undo your hair, tugging pins free one by one. With each one that dropped onto the counter, a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders, and finally, you let your hair fall loose, watching it spill over your shoulders.

The door creaked, and you caught a glimpse of movement in the mirror as your husband appeared in the doorway. His silhouette was softened by the dim lighting, but his expression held that same guarded intensity.

“If I’m wrong, then… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. For a brief moment, you saw something else there—maybe regret, maybe exhaustion.

You’re not. You’re completely right. I'm having an affair.

We’re in love.

I want a divorce.

You took a steadying breath, choosing your words carefully, though it was hard to keep the bitterness from your tone. “You are.” Letting the silence settle between you, you finally added, “Can we just… go to bed, please?”

He nodded, exhaling softly as he moved back toward the bedroom. After taking a final glance in the mirror, you followed, feeling an ache that settled somewhere deep inside you, one that even the cool darkness couldn’t soothe.

He had already slid beneath the covers when you came in, lying on his side with his back to you, the silence between you stretching out uncomfortably. You climbed into bed beside him, the mattress dipping as you shifted into your usual place, though tonight it felt almost foreign.

In the quiet, words bubbled up unbidden, slipping past your lips in a murmur to yourself. “Too late.”

“Missed you,” Aki gasped, pressing his palms deep into your lower back, pushing you down a little further. When he thrusted forward, the car jolted. 

You thought of his words from earlier – his comment about makeup sex being the best way to reconnect after time apart. And, shit, he was right. As he fucked you open only a few miles away from the hotel where your husband was fast asleep, you couldn’t have agreed more.

You cried out for him, fingers digging into the leather seats of his car. He was so fucking deep – it was driving you crazy. 

“Aki,” You breathed out his name – two simple syllables, a trick of the tongue as it rolled off with ease. It felt so good to have him like this after going so long without seeing him. The two of you were entangled in the backseat – you, face down with your back arched all the way up while he took you from behind at an angle so brutal it had you drooling all over leather seats. Your slushies were getting warm in the cupholders, long forgotten.

Every time his hips were flush up against your ass, you could do nothing but claw harder, moan louder, worship him. Desperately, you rutted your hips back.

“Mis– Missed you t-too,” You managed to stutter out. 

“Oh, fuck,” He sighed. “Cum with me, baby. I love you.”

You loved him too. More than he knew. So much so, in fact, that you fell over the edge only a moment later with an, “I love you, too!”

You loved him with your entire body and soul.

a/n: im not gonna say much, but i will say that i hope you enjoyed this fluffy little chapter! the next one will be a much harder read. muah! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[redrose10]

Chapter 3 is here! Next chapter in a few days!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word Count: 3,609

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

In no way were you going to to cry in front of a couple hundred strangers. You decided to focus in on a bouquet of flowers that were just behind Yoongi’s head to try and distract yourself. A beautiful set of blue hydrangeas. You chose to ignore the words that were being spoken by the minister standing between the two of you. Instead your thoughts were brought back to being seven years old and laying in your Aunts back yard on her swing while she read the newspaper. The hydrangea bush next to you was in full bloom providing an intoxicating scent and a beautiful hue of purples and blues. Your aunt gently stroked your hair while she told you about some recipe that was listed in the paper, asking you if you thought she should try it for dinner one day. It was one of the last times you remember feeling genuinely happy and at peace and loved.

You’re brought out of your trance after you hear the officiant whisper your name. Yoongi is looking at you with one eyebrow raised. The officiant speaks again, “Y/N, do you take Yoongi as your husband now and forever?” Unable to speak you nod your head and the ring is placed on your finger. A few more words were spoken and then you were welcomed to share your first kiss as husband and wife.

You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about what it would be like to kiss Yoongi. You wondered how this would go. Should you take his hand? Will he caress your face? Does he even want to kiss you? Moments later he leaned in. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla stronger than ever. Briefly he looked into your eyes and you saw something different. Not the usual disgust or indifference. His eyes showed that he was nervous. Maybe even scared. Before you could think there was a quick touch of your lips and then he backed away leaving you wanting more. He grabbed your hand dragging you down the aisle behind him while the crowd cheered and congratulated you both. Maybe you were seeing things but you swear you saw the tiniest bit of pink brush across his cheeks.

Afterwards the guests were ushered into the reception area to enjoy cocktails and appetizers while Yoongi and yourself were whisked away to take photos. The sweet photographer tried her hardest to make it seem like there was a lot of love and admiration between the two of you. However no matter how hard she tried the atmosphere was anything but that. Thankfully the photo session was over quickly and it was time to begin the reception. Dinner was served and then after a couple of speeches guests were encouraged to hit the dance floor to celebrate. Mr. And Mrs. Min paraded you around introducing you to a bunch of people whom you assumed were very important to their empire based on how they talked you up. After what felt like an eternity they excused themselves and you were left alone for the first time since the morning. That’s when you realized that you hadn’t seen Yoongi in quite a while. Scanning the room you couldn’t catch any sight of him. Curious as to what he was up to you started wondering the halls which may have been your biggest mistake of the evening.

Making your way down a dimly lit hall, the carpeting muffling the sound of your heels, you were startled when a door a few feet in front of you swung open and a disheveled looking Yoongi came stumbling out. His hair was a mess and you watched as he finished zipping up his black dress pants and then adjusted his belt to the correct position. He was closely followed by the same blond from the earlier ceremony stumbling as she finished pulling up the top of her barely there dress.

You felt a burning sensation in your throat and tears forming in your eyes. It was suddenly hard to breathe as if you were being smothered. You knew he wasn’t going to be the picture perfect husband but you didn’t think he would cheat on you and at your wedding reception of all places.

Quickly you turned and made your way back to the party area not noticing the way Yoongi looked after you.

Realizing that you needed some air you found the nearest exit door and stepped out onto the terrace. The cool air feeling good on your flushed skin and in your lungs. You felt like the last little bit of hope you had at a happy marriage was just crushed. Trying to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself you were interrupted when you heard the latch of the door click open.

“Y/N”

Turning around you faced Yoongi standing by the door. Hands in his pockets. Unreadable expression on his face. It looked like he had fixed his hair since it was no longer sticking up all over the place and was back to laying down styled like nothing had ever happened. Without saying a word you turned back around to stare out at the city below you. A strong breeze blew through the air putting you into a deep shiver. Seconds later you were wrapped in warmth. You were hit with a familiar smell. Cinnamon and vanilla. Noticing the black fabric draped around your shoulders you realized that Yoongi had placed his suit coat around you to try and bring you some warmth and protection from the chill in the air. Twenty minutes ago the gesture would’ve caused your heart to explode. But thinking back to Yoongi walking out of the room with that woman making it clear as to what they had done, probably while he was wearing this same suit jacket, you felt dirty having it touching you.

“Y/N, I know this isn’t ideal. That this isn’t how we had imagined our lives going so I don’t mind if you want to see other people behind closed doors. We just have to put on an act for the public but when no one’s watching you’re free to do whatever you want.”

You replayed his words in your head. Was he trying to clear his conscience because he knows he got caught? Maybe feels a little guilty and will feel less guilty if he knows you’re also out cheating on him? Does he think that he’s being kind towards you by doing this? You couldn’t stop the laugh that left your mouth. Shaking off his jacket and letting it land on the ground, not caring how expensive it was, you looked up at him and held up your left hand to show the wedding ring that hasn’t even been on your finger for a full eight hours yet.

“I can’t. I’m married and I’m not a disgusting, low down, uncaring, selfish, ignorant, cheating, loser, asshole like you Min Yoongi. You better not get caught either. It’s in your end of the contract.”

With that you turned and walked into the reception area taking a seat at the wedding table and downing your glass of champagne and also Yoongi’s that was sitting next to it. You have no idea where all that came from but it felt good. You snuck a peak out of the tall glass window to see Yoongi still standing there, hands in his pockets, mouthing something to himself before turning back to look out at the city below.

You groaned when your alarm went off the next morning. Why did you agree to a 6am flight again? Slowly you rolled yourself out of bed trying not to wake the loudly snoring figure next to you. You forgot just how cute Jimin looked while he was sleeping. All curled up in a ball with a deep pout on his lips.

Of course you didn’t spend your wedding night with your new husband. Especially not after the events at the reception. You and Yoongi were supposed to share a night in the biggest hotel suite in Seoul but you knew there was no way you could face him. After your little outburst on the terrace the rest of the reception was even more awkward especially having to share your first dance with him. You spent most of the dance staring down at the ground blaming it on having two left feet and not wanting to step on Yoongi’s expensive dress shoes but you and him both knew why you couldn’t look him in the eyes. The night ended with you spotting Yoongi standing in the corner talking to one of his business partners when your favorite blond woman walked over handing him a piece of paper with what was surely her phone number on it before giving him a kiss on the cheek and walking off. There was no way you were going to be stuck in a room with him after all of that.

Thankfully Jimin had planned ahead booking himself a room at the same hotel figuring he’d be too drunk to get himself home at the end of the night. You jumped in the shower letting the hot water soothe your sore muscles. Once you were thoroughly cleaned you put on some light makeup and a comfy outfit. Today you and Yoongi were heading off to your honeymoon. A week spent on a tropical island. You didn’t mind the ocean but you really hated the hot humid weather. The sand that got everywhere. The guaranteed sunburn no matter how careful you were. Yoongi had asked where you wanted to honeymoon. You’d always wanted to stay in a cabin in the Swiss Alps during the winter. Something was always so comforting about the snow. The cold feeling invigorating and refreshing. You imagined sipping a mug of hot chocolate by the fire place while wrapped in a blanket. Maybe going for a walk and taking in the beautiful scenery. With Christmas just around the corner there’d probably be lots of decorations. Yoongi had nodded at your request like he was accepting of it so you were shocked when he told you that your honeymoon would be taking place in Fiji, somewhere that is the complete opposite of what you had asked for. But at this point what could you really expect from him.

All of your bags were packed before the wedding so you just threw in some last minute essentials before zipping up the last one. You didn’t have to take much. Just a duffel bag and a carry on for your makeup and important items. Growing up without having much you learned that you didn’t need much to be happy. Walking over to the bed you quickly realized that trying to wake Jimin up from his hangover induced coma was going to be useless so you placed a kiss to his forehead and grabbed your bags heading out the door.

You were startled when you opened the door finding Yoongi with his hand raised as he was just about to knock.

“Oh sorry. I didn’t expect to see you there.”, you said hand clutching at your chest.

He hands you over a warm to go cup. “I texted Jimin to ask him what your usual coffee order is but he never responded so I got you a vanilla latte. It seemed like a safe choice for you.”

You gave him a tight lip smile and took the cup from him. Truthfully you weren’t much of a coffee drinker but the fact that he actually put effort into something made your heart twist a little and some caffeine in your system wouldn’t hurt right now either. Gently you shut the door behind you and began to walk down the hall when you heard someone mumbling your name by the elevators. When you turned you were greeted by a young man. The poor thing looked like he was being crushed by the weight of all the luggage he was carrying as he desperately tried to keep everything together. Once you looked into his eyes you immediately recognized him as one of Yoongi’s interns, Jungkook. You’d met him a couple times and he was always very sweet and polite.

“Mrs. Min, let me take your bags for you.”, he said reaching out for the duffle bag in your hand.

You chuckled, “Oh no it’s okay. It looks like you’ve got your hands full already. Plus I’m definitely capable of carrying a couple bags down to the car.” Taking another sip of your coffee you waited for the elevator to arrive. Once the familiar ding of the bell sounded the doors opened and you stepped onto the platform making room for Yoongi and Jungkook. You couldn’t help but notice that Jungkook seemed a little less frazzled and Yoongi was carrying one of his own bags now. A small smile crept onto your face at the thought that maybe your words struck a nerve with him.

The car ride to the airport was mostly silent until Yoongi cleared his throat, “I waited for you to come to the room last night. I wanted to talk about things.” You continued to look out the window as the you passed by the buildings before responding, “I figured you’d be busy and didn’t want to be in the way of anything.”

Before Yoongi could speak the driver announced your arrival at the airport. You’d never been on a private plane before. The only plane you’d ever even been on was the one you took to South Korea and that definitely wasn’t private so it was nice. The plane ride and the following drive to the resort remained pretty much silent minus the occasional question or statement.

The suite at the resort was of course luxurious. You stepped out onto the balcony and were immediately hit with a wave of the heat and humidity that you hated so much. But you did have to admit that the view was stunning. Crystal clear water. White sand. Palm trees and tropical flowers wherever you looked.

Walking back into the cool air conditioning you took a look around the room and felt a sudden rise in your body temperature. The cause of this-The one king bed staring back at you. Normally a couple on their honeymoon wouldn’t think twice about sharing a bed but you and Yoongi had an odd situation. He must’ve noticed your new concern because you heard him chuckle from the other side of the room.

“We’re adults Y/N and we’re married. We can share a bed for a week.”

All you could muster was a nod and a tight lipped smile. Part of you wondered if this meant he’d keep his hands off of other women on this trip. Or maybe the two of you would finally-

“I’m heading out Y/N. Don’t wait up.”, he said and you looked over watching him grab his room key and head out the door not even looking back. Of course, you sighed.

Not wanting to leave the room you ordered yourself some room service and called it an early night. When you woke up the following morning you felt more refreshed than you had in a long time. It was definitely the comfiest hotel bed you’d ever slept in. You began to feel slight movement next to you and that’s when you remembered that you were on a honeymoon with your husband.

The movements stopped so you thought it was safe to take a peak. Yoongi had stayed as far on his side as he could. Looking over you once again admired how handsome he truly was. If you didn’t know what kind of person he was you’d definitely have a huge crush on him. Maybe you did anyways. He was still in his clothes from earlier. He smelled like a brewery with a hint of that familiar cinnamon and vanilla scent.

He must’ve gone out drinking all night and came back at some point while you were asleep. You weren’t sure if you were relieved he came back at all or upset that he spent the first night of your honeymoon downing whiskey at some bar. The forever comforting person in you didn’t want him to catch a cold from the air conditioning that you had set on full blast so you tried your best to shimmy the blanket up to his shoulders to cover him and that’s when you noticed it. Right on his neck just below his ear. A kiss of red lipstick stared back at you like a forbidden tattoo. Curiosity getting the best of you and knowing that he was still too out of it to notice you gently tugged down the collar of his tshirt revealing what you had feared. Several more kisses of the same color lipstick painted his chest along with a couple love bites. Feeling like you were going to be sick you quickly ran to the bathroom shutting the door behind you.

After a long hot shower and taking your time getting ready you finally felt like you could face the world. Yoongi was sitting on the edge of the bed his head in hands clearly feeling the effects of the night before. He heard the jingle of your purse and looked over noticing you standing there in your pink sundress with the sunglasses to match. He thought it was cute how you always tried to accessorize your outfit with something matching in color.

Your original plan was to ask him to come have breakfast with you and then see if he wanted to go to the beach. Even if you hated it you were still going to try and make the most of this trip. But after this morning you don’t want to be in the same room with him. Silently you walked out the door letting it shut behind you and made your way down to the resort cafe.

The next few days were spent the same. You and Yoongi spent most of the day doing your own thing until he’d stumble into bed at some point during the night. You didn’t even bother looking for any signs of what he did out there. At this point you didn’t want to know.

On the last night you decided to treat yourself to a nice dinner out. Yoongi had been gone all day and you knew he wasn’t going to spend the evening with you anyways. The food was incredibly delicious and you had a really nice time with the waiter, Hoseok. He was like a big ray of sunshine and for that one dinner you were able to forget everything that had been happening. The two of you exchanged numbers so you could get together for lunch next time he visited his parents in Korea. As you were walking back to your room you came across two people all over each other in the hallway. The man’s hands were slowly going farther up the shirt of the brunette he was with. Soft moans could be heard between the two of them. Normally you’d be pretty off put that two people would be so open in public but you were happy that someone was getting intimacy. You were craving any sort of touch and these two just made you want it more.

That was until the woman accidentally dropped her purse and bent down to retrieve it revealing the man that she was with. Yoongi looked at you with his classic unreadable expression. The woman standing back up realized you were now present. She was understandably confused as to why you were waiting right there.

“Oh I’m sorry. Is this your room?”, she asked looking back at Yoongi for an explanation.

Deep down you had thought he’d tell the truth. Let her know that you were his wife and he was caught. That she needed to leave. That this was your honeymoon. That he wouldn’t bring another women into your hotel room while you were there with them. Instead he just sighed,

“Yeah this is my sister Y/N. She’s sharing a room with me unfortunately.”

You felt your heart crack. The woman looked a little shocked pulling away, “Oh I’m so sorry. Maybe we should continue this elsewhere.”

You watched the smirk spread across Yoongi’s face, “Nah she won’t mind. Right Y/N?” In your head you screamed, “Yeah of course I mind. You’re my husband and you expect me to just sit there while you fuck some other woman.” But instead you gently shook your head and watched as Yoongi pulled the woman back into the room with him kissing her as he went.

You stood there and watched the door slam shut. The faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla the only thing remaining in the hall with you. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t sit in that room with them. So instead you made your way down to the lobby. At this time of night all the restaurants were closing up and you weren’t much for the bar scene so you grabbed a water bottle from a vending machine and walked out to the beach to wait it out. Once you felt you had a safe spot chosen you took a seat down in the sand. As you stared up at the sky you felt the exhaustion taking over your body. Slowly you laid back allowing the warm sand and the sound of the ocean waves to lull you off to sleep. The smell of the salty air a welcoming change to the cinnamon and vanilla that was slowly driving you crazy.

[shoshiwrites]

Prompt requested by @kmk1701d, "a kiss while in close proximity." Thank you so much, Katt! A big bouquet to @junojelli for all things backyard garden, and to @basilone for talking me through at least seven different ?!?! moments ♡ Bucky Egan/War correspondent OC, also on Ao3! Warning here for emetophobia [brief, non-graphic].

september song

A package finds her in Norwich, under the September sun. It’s covered in stamps and ink, pressed haphazard over Evie’s careful hand. Jo carries it out to the back garden, a glass in one hand and the stuffed envelope in the crook of her arm, holding a notebook and novel and pencil besides. It’s optimistic, the amount of things she’s carrying, like she won’t just want to sit and laze under the trees, feel the sun on her face, sip her weak tea.

It’s become a place she goes when she needs something like rest, the oasis that’s hardly one if she thinks about it — the Anderson shelter and the squash blossoms and the cabbages. But there’s the sun on the red brick of the house, the little potting shed, the trees bearing russet apples and the ivy and the last lingering clematis, the scent of it like almonds.

In the summer, the June and July evenings, she’d sit out here with whichever correspondent was staying in the room next to hers, or play cards with the land girls down from Manchester and Hull. Kay had brought drinks out from the kitchen, little cocktails in haphazard glassware sweet-talked out of the housekeeper’s care, Kay’s spectator pumps clacking on the flagstone path.

She slides a fingernail under the lip of the envelope, wincing as the paper snags. Nothing inside seems to be damaged, though. There’s a letter, a packet of photos embossed with the name of a Philadelphia studio, a few more tied with a white ribbon. The ones Angelo took, Evie’s letter explains. Evie’s fiancé — husband, Jo mentally corrects now — is a hobbyist photographer, as much as finances and the war allow. There’s a smaller envelope too, with a few flower petals dried and pressed between. White roses, from Evie’s bouquet.

Guilt washes over her — Evie doesn’t know about William, about the whole awful mess. Nobody at home does. Kay knows, she’d had the front seat to the aftermath, the whiskey thrown up in the bathroom and the thumbnails Jo had bit down to the quick. Kay had brought her ginger ale and brushed back her hair and told her the war needed Jo Brandt, not Mrs. William Merrick. Jo had smiled and told her that was hogwash, but nice hogwash, and then promptly thrown up again.

She hadn’t been able to sour a letter home with it, what seemed like such petty personal news.

The photos, of course, are beautiful. The studio shots of Evie and Angelo, Evie in the suit Jo knows is dove-gray gabardine, light enough for summer, and Angelo with the tie pin Evie gave him the last Christmas Jo shared with them stateside. The family posed in front of the altar, and outside the church. Angelo’s shots are of the reception after, and Evie outside on the sidewalk. The sunlight catching her earrings, the beading on her Juliet cap, filtered through her birdcage veil. There are the hydrangeas in vases, and the table set with a small cake and hors d’oeuvres, the homemade wine, the cousins sat on Evie’s lap. Angela and John asked about you of course, Auntie Jo.

Evie steals the camera for a few, Angelo with his jacket off and shirtsleeves rolled up, looking every inch the man in love. Like he hasn’t always looked at her like that, every day of their lives. Jo feels still, all of the sudden, just now hearing the birdsong over the walls, too caught up in the photos and the love that pours from each word of Evie’s letter. I don’t know if it will still be in fashion, she writes, but you’re welcome to the cap and the earrings. They would look so nice with your hair, Jo. You’d be welcome to the suit too, but I know you have something white planned for the family. William’s family, she means.

She swallows.

They hadn’t gotten to the planning, actually. Nothing beyond what was expected — the church, the white dress, the flowers, the reception back at the house with a dinner. There wasn’t a dress hanging in the closet, only the ring that now lived in the back of a drawer in her desk inside the house. The only official stamp was the engagement announcement in a Philadelphia newspaper. The one that ran months ago. She wonders why no one had pressed them to marry before they had both left for England.

She gathers the photos back into the cardboard sleeve, back into the package. Lifts the envelope of rose petals to smell the faintest scent, and then replaces those too. Leans her head back, thinks of fishing her sunglasses from her trouser pocket. She’s got a haphazard outfit on, the loose trousers and sandals and a button-down with the sleeves pushed up, her watch, her hair hastily pulled back. An outfit for a rare day with no appointments, only the scurrying of a reporter trying to finish something to send off. She’d made her edits in the morning, and gone over some of Kay’s contact sheets after her second cup of coffee. Maybe she hadn’t earned the rest, but it’s too nice of a day to not at least sit out around the lunch hour. She’ll be back in London under rainclouds soon enough.

She’s too uneasy to keep her eyes closed for long, thinking of wedding gowns and absent rings, wondering how she became the type of girl who needed a diamond.

Her mother had a silver band that she wore every day that Jo had known her. Jo guesses there were some things even her father wouldn’t have pawned for drinking money.

After she’d gotten up off the bathroom floor, Kay had told her of a cousin who was married for the fourth time last spring. This time to a count, Kay had said. Something in her eyes told Jo she didn’t think it would last. A few of the correspondents they know in London are divorced, or functionally so. Several unmarried, to various degrees.

She wonders how you become the type of person who marries four times. Did it mean you’d given up on a certain kind of love? Maybe they know something we don’t, Jo thinks.

She doesn’t have too much time to ponder the question. At once she hears the noise of the door behind her, the one from the kitchen out to the garden, and footsteps, and poor Muriel the housekeeper’s voice leading someone back out to Jo in her chair.

“- should be right out here-”

“There she is.” It’s half-crowing, affectionate. “Thank you, Muriel.”

How does he even know- She turns, replaces her tea carefully on a stepping stone. “Major Egan.”

Affectionately annoyed, at the title. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me John?”

She’s not surprised he found her through the front of the house, not surprised Muriel’s smiling affectionately at his back as she closes the door, as he walks over to her.

“Force of habit,” she says. A useful one, one to ought to keep if she knows what’s good for her. For any of them. Like they’re not a hundred miles past that by now. “What brings you up here?” She scans around for another chair, wonders if he’s already refused a cup of tea.

“Oh, I need a reason?”

She stills, suddenly feels her cheeks pink with sun.

“Buck’ll let you write about him,” he says, almost like a non-sequiteur. “Finally agreed.” She’s amused, faintly, by what that agreement might have looked like. He can read it on her face, nods a little along with her. “Just tipped his chin up like this,” he says, on the verge of smiling. “You know.”

“Wonderful,” she says, and there’s not a hint of shadow in it.

He looks at her lap, and her letter, and her book, and her pencil. “I’m sorry, was I interrupting something?”

That almost makes her laugh. Like he’s ever cared about interruption.

“No, I won’t get to a proper reply sitting in this chair,” she says. “Can’t write too well on my legs.”

“Any good news?”

Oh. She can’t lie about it, can she? The photo sleeve still in her hands. “Two dear friends were just married, actually.”

“Fantastic,” he says, the shine out of his voice, but no less sincere. He sounds almost quiet.

Before she knows it, she’s profferring the photo of everyone out on the front steps of the church, Evie squinting beautifully into the sun, Angelo looking at her, his arm around her waist.

“They look happy,” he says.

“Mmm.” She could keep talking, she knows. Maybe she’s afraid of what she’ll say.

He hands the photo back to her, his thumb careful against the edge. “This is a nice place you’ve got here.”

There’s a physical relief she feels, turning to something like the vines and the trees to talk about. Other than the photos. Other than the fact that’s he’s quieter than usual, has been for weeks. When he’s sober, at least. “I just enjoy it,” she says. “Not much help in the garden besides wheeling dirt around.” She can barely keep a window box alive. Her roommates only leave her in the company of plants with their very precise instructions.

“Can the major get a tour?”

She looks up at him, quirks something of a smile, squints over his shoulder in the sun. Like she didn’t just tell him she’s useless in a garden apart from sitting in it. “If I can’t offer you a chair, I probably should.”

He holds out a hand, lets her press heavily down on it as she stands. More than she thought she’d have to. Her things go in the chair where she’s just been sitting, the curve of sun-faded, striped fabric. It’d make a nice picture, Jo thinks. Kay would move a couple of things, maybe take a stray flower and place it to the side for a shot. Her hand feels warm.

She waves a hand over the shelter in self-explanation, watches him nod in seriousness. There’s the little stone path that leads to the back wall, more ivy, the late-season potatoes and heads of cabbage. There’s a rickety little folding chair against the side of the potting shed, and she assesses that maybe she’s the one who belongs in that, and him in the other. He’d have more trouble getting off the ground than she did, though.

There’s a nice slant of shade, too, between the shed and the wall.

“Anything good in there?” He’s nodding towards the shed.

She’s trying not to narrow her eyes. Trying not to think of a hundred things. She’s only ever poked her head in.

Before she can say something — dirt, gardening tools, who the hell knows — he’s taken her hand and ducked under the doorway.

She’s careful not to trip over the step, close to him now inside the tiny shed. There’s a counter bare of seedlings, now that it’s sunny mid-September, a few implements to the side, the back shelf lined with dusty pots and some old glassware, the rich smell of soil.

“Not much to see,” she says, which is a lie too, if you know how to look.

His voice is almost imperceptibly hoarse, and serious. “‘M not really interested in the tour, Josephine. Not anymore, at least.”

Her voice is faint, as his hands find her hips. “Might’ve guessed.” She can’t think about it, the letter or the photos or his voice, the edge of despair, of anger, her own empty hands.

There’s a moment as those own hands find him, the wool of his uniform, as they look at each other in the dim, filtered light. The dirty window. The silent asking, the way she stills, and lets him press his mouth to hers.

She winds back her foot, tries to kick the door shut. The action falls short, just barely, and he huffs a soft laugh against her cheek. Kicks the door back, for real, with his boot. He’s warm, from the sun. She imagines she is, too.

“Did Major Cleven really say we could do a feature-” she starts, and the face he makes is something she’d bottle if she could.

“Start by calling it something else, Josephine,” he says. “You’ll scare him off-”

Now that’s a joke, and she’d smile if she weren’t busy kissing him again, tracing her thumb along his cheek, his jaw, his ear.

Little surface scar-dings against his neck, raised tissue tinged red, and she can’t think about what flak does, how a person can’t be so easily repaired.

He’s pulling her closer, uniform pressed against the thin rayon of her blouse, keeping, she notices belatedly, her hair from a spider’s web behind them.

She tastes the faintest hint of ale in his mouth, against his lip and his mustache, and something else — something sudden and deep and sweet. He’s smiling, and she can see a tiny dark scrap between his teeth. He looks almost sheepish, like a kid caught with chocolate on his face before dinner. “I saw some blackberries on my way over here,” he says. “By the roadside.”

“Bring me any?” She’s smiling.

“Thought you might like to go uh, gather some,” he says, like it’s something he’s trying on for size. Gather. Like this is a novel set in deep summer, and not a war. “Had to see if they were any good.”

Maybe she’s being ridiculous — it’s all for the war, anyway. The squash and the cabbages and the apples and the potting shed revived after a decade and change gathering dust in the back of an old house.

She and her roommates will help Muriel put up the apples soon. Hattie and Nancy, the land girls, had mentioned making pies. Blackberry and apple — it sounds like something her mother would have made.

“Kiss me again,” she says. His mouth is tarter now, the tip of his tongue pressed against her teeth. She half-swallows a yelp as he lifts her to the counter, lets his hands settle back on her hips, trailing his mouth across her jaw. “New calculations, Major?”

“Tactical reassessment.”

A laugh bubbles in her chest, surprisingly heavy. “What’s your objective?”

“Top secret.”

Her fingertips play at the epaulet of one shoulder. “Not too hard to guess.”

“I don’t hear you guessing.”

She pulls him, gently, back to her mouth.

“You needed this,” he says, firm and a question at once. Something in her ribcage sings. “Couldn’t risk you not getting it.”

“Getting what?”

“A good kiss.” She drags her thumbnail gently across the back of his neck, the short hairs there, watches his eyelashes flutter ever so slightly. “Someone else might have, couldn’t risk that, either.”

She leans back a little, still tight in his hold. “Wouldn’t let them,” she says. Breathes, like it’s a secret, like she didn’t just say it out into the quiet.

She wants to stain her fingers picking blackberries with him, his mouth, hers. Hear about the moments he stole as a kid. Share her own. Maybe they can have that here, on a September afternoon.

[ddagent]

@bluetrekker12: From your prompts I would love Margo dating and jealous Sergei please

The welcome reception was never Margo's favourite part of the IAC conference. After a day of introductory events and lengthy panels, the last thing she wanted to do was spend three hours in a short black dress networking with her colleagues over watered down cocktails and savoury hors d'oeuvres. Thankfully, unlike the early days of her attendance during the mid-70s, Margo had earned a place at the VIP reception with the other heads of major space agencies. This meant that the majority of people here Margo already knew – and already disliked.

The exception to that, tonight, was Jack Poulter, heading up the UK's space program. He was charming, with thick dark hair and a firm grasp of what was going on at NASA. They had been talking for the past twenty minutes and it had been, surprisingly, not unbearable. As another tray of hors d'oeuvres passed by, Jack realised that Margo was missing something. "Why don't I get us some drinks?"

Margo nodded. "I'd like that."

Jack offered her a broad smile before heading over to the bar. It took all of twenty seconds before a cocktail glass, with a wedge of orange resting on the rim, hovered by her elbow. Margo looked down at the glass, and then up at the man offering it. "Hello, Sergei."

"Margo." He beamed at her as she took the offered glass. "It is good to see you."

"And–and you." Often they missed the welcome reception; her flight was delayed, or his. They always caught up with each other the next morning before attending a few panels together and making arrangements to go off site for dinner, as was their tradition. So Margo had never seen Sergei Nikulov in black tie before. He had undone his bowtie already, leaving it loose around his neck. His cufflinks were little rockets, which Margo found charming. And Sergei stared at her in such a way that left her wanting.

Wanting, as always, for what she could not have.

Thankfully, her saviour arrived in the form of Jack Poulter. He had two martini glasses in front of him; Sergei scoffed, almost inaudibly, beside her. Jack stared at his drinks, before looking at the drink already in Margo's hand. "I see someone has already beaten me to it."

"The IAC conference is for discussing scientific ideas," Sergei said, taking a sip of his cocktail. "It is important that we are properly hydrated."

Margo stared at Sergei, his gaze fixed on Jack. She made introductions. "Jack Poulter, Sergei Nikulov. Jack is head of the UK Space Program; Sergei is head of Roscosmos."

They did not shake hands. Considering her and Sergei's entire friendship was based on the act of shaking hands, Margo found his attitude ridiculous. "It is a pleasure to meet you," Jack eventually said. "I won't have to separate you both, will I? Russia and the United States, fighting over the last mini quiche."

"Not at all. Margo and I have the highest respect for each other's work. The IAC is a place of coming together for all nations and space agencies." Sergei took another drink. "Even those who have yet to put a man in space."

Margo had not seen this version of Sergei Nikulov since the early days of Apollo-Soyuz. This was the version of the man she had wanted to murder, who had made her life hell. He'd disappeared over a soft admission, shared secrets, and cocktails at 11:59. Even tipsy Sergei had been jovial and friendly. Margo had no idea what had got into him. But as Jack, who she had fully intended to be her distraction from Sergei for the '88 conference, took the opportunity to talk to the head of ESA, she caught Sergei grin. Satisfied.

Was Sergei Nikulov, the head of Roscosmos, jealous?

[drrutherford]

Pt. I/III

He's been on edge all day, hasn't slept a wink before it, knowing the court documents had been served to her last night. But by 6pm, he's starting to think he might be safe. Maybe the barrage of vile voice notes won't come, the angry missed calls. Maybe he'll even sleep tonight. When the bell rings, he doesn't check his security app. He expects it's Damon, who's kept in touch all day via text, waiting with him for the second shoe to drop. He assumes his brother's coming over to celebrate a little earlier than planned.

But when he opens the door, he finds himself staring at Katherine.

"Is this some kind of joke??"

There's no greeting with her, there never is. She's always blown in like a storm, with all the force of a natural disaster.

His hand goes lax around the knob. "I've never joked about Felix. I never would."

Katherine sees her opening and takes it, shoving past the open door, heels clacking against his floor. "You're going to put our son through that same old rollercoaster?? Now that he's old enough to remember it?"

"Oh, he's our son now, is he?..." The last six years, whenever she's spoken of Felix, it has always been in strictly possessive terms; my, my, mine. Her cherubic doll, to cling onto a wholesome public image. Her bargaining chip against her ex-husband, to be dangled and revoked on a whim, whenever it's suited her to punish him; to remind him of who is in control. Reluctantly, Gideon shuts the door behind her. "... Funny how that works."

He can't risk drawing attention, or being overheard by the rest of the building, but that doesn't mean he's rolling out the welcome mat. "You're not supposed to be here."

The actress whips around, adopting a cloyingly sweet tone. "And who's going to stop me, Gideon?... You? Your lawyer? Better yet, that mousy-looking creature you've been keeping on your arm?" Katherine adjusts the strap on her purse and sweeps down his front hall, poking her head into his living room, first, followed by his kitchen.

"Where is she? Is that why you're doing this?? You want your picket-white fence?"

He doesn't understand her disdain. As if it's ridiculous to want that kind of stability, as if he wasn't chasing that same dream with her when he popped the question ten years ago, didn't clutch even more desperately when their marriage began slipping through his fingers, and Katherine slid into new beds and old habits.

Still, he's glad she doesn't know about his breakup with Amélie. It'd bring her too much pleasure. She's always preferred him alone, held on as tightly to her control over him as Gideon once held to his love for her. "She's not here. What do you want, Katherine?"

She's satisfied with that answer. Abandoning her bloodhound quest, the blonde turns to face him again, this time wearing a derisive smile on her pink lips. "Well, it doesn't matter..." She strolls forward, slowly minimizing the distance between them until he can see the pinpricks of her pupils. He wonders what cocktail of drugs she's ingested most recently. Wonders which among an endless stream of babysitters is watching their son right now, and whether Katherine had the dignity to shoot up in a private space, or whether he'll be fending off questions from his six-year-old next time he's allowed to see him, about why needles are going into mommy's arm.

"If you go up against me again, you're just going to lose."

Her voice is honey, but her words are gall. Gideon watches her, tension wrought around every muscle fiber in his body. He still can't understand it. How this is the same woman who stood with him before an altar ten years ago, the same one who had whispered she loved him under a sea of lights at the reception hall, as he had held her in his arms and fancied himself the luckiest man in the world. He used to question if that woman was still inside her, somewhere, or whether she'd never really existed in the first place. But these days, he's stopped torturing himself over answers he'll never get.

"I suppose we'll just have to find out."

"Poor Gideon." The actress croons, reaching out to touch him without his permission. The palm that finds his chest is featherlight, but still manages to suck all the air out of his lungs. "Haven't you gotten used to losing?... Don't you remember what happened the last two times you took me to court?" For a second, he almost believes the pity in her blue eyes as she gazes up at him, but then he remembers how she likes her games.

This is why she's still so beloved onscreen, even if her star has begun to fade over the years. This is how she'd kept the public in a thrall during their excruciating, extensively covered divorce. This is how she'd managed to drag his reputation through the mud, while shining her own halo and covering her own crimes in the process.

"It's time for you to go, Katherine."

Something like fury sparks in her eyes. The change is swift enough to break her mask, even if she adjusts it a second later. She isn't used to this; not getting a rise out of him. He's danced on her marionette strings for so long; taken the bait, reacted and ignited, hated her with as much compulsion as he'd once adored her.

But it's true what they say about the opposite of love not being hate, but indifference.

And he doesn't love her anymore.

"Bring your finest lawyers, darling, it won't change a thing. It will only be all the more humiliating for you when you lose, and such a mortifying ordeal for Felix." Katherine's hand drops abruptly from his chest. She moves to the front door, wrenching it open.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

Her hand is gone, but he still feels the pressure in his chest. It doesn't lift until the slam of the door shocks him back to life, jolting his muscles into use. Gideon moves forward to lock it, feeling hopelessly tired, but more determined than he has in a long time.

Don't say I didn't warn you, either.

[angellayercake]

I'm seeing your Bioshock posting. Any project your working on that's related?

(I'm excited I love Bioshock)

Thank you very much for noticing!! I have been pretty obsessed with Bioshock and Rapture since I played it last year and then I had a brainwave about how similar the descriptions of Meliora is to the concept (not the reality iykyk) of Rapture.

So below the read more are some of my rambling thoughts. This may turn into a fic one day or it may just stay an idea but who knows? I have included no spoilers for either Bioshock or Bioshock 2 storylines as most of this takes place pre Raptures construction.

source

So Jen, you might ask, how would Terzo even be invited to Rapture in the first place? Doesn't Ryan hate religion? Why would Terzo even want to be there?

And I have a very extensive answer for you! (after you chose with me to ignore all dates in canon because for this we need Terzo in his late 20s/30s in the 1920s)

To begin I must explain my headcanon for how the Ministry and the Clergy works. The Ministry was founded in opposition to the rise of the Catholic church in Italy. They opposed the strict and cruel ways the Christian church and wanted to offer an alternative and a sanctuary to those mistreated and maligned. Their numbers grew until they were noticed and forced to flee Italy.

They found a home in rural Sweden, taking advantage of the overwhelming rise of Protestantism and there they stayed, biding their time and increasing their ranks. Their congregation grew so large that they were starting to struggle to sustain themselves so the Clergy came up with a plan. The Projects were different businesses, outreach and recruitment efforts to build revenue and attract the rich and successful to their cause and it worked! They were truly self sustaining and starting to have influence in important places but the Clergy understood that they were playing the long game.

Which brings us nicely to New York in 1922. Terzo Emeritus, third son of the reigning Papa has been assigned to set up a speakeasy to make the most of the Prohibition movement. His goal is to make a load of money and convert as many sinners as he can find. He sets up his 'dance hall' which he calls his House of Sin. There are cocktails and dancers and escorts and cross dressers and all the outcasts and freaks that aren't welcome anywhere else. It gains a cult reputation as a wonderland where anything goes, seemingly built from nothing into the most inclusive yet exclusive club in New York.

Andrew Ryan begins frequenting the place, not because he has tastes for anything other than a pretty girl but because he respects their ethos. He has respect for anyone who disregards laws and social norms and makes their own rules. He is made to feel welcome as are any of the rich and powerful that frequent the club, not because Terzo necessarily likes them but because part of his work there is to recruit powerful people to the Church. He welcomes them personally, brings them the best men or women that they might desire, keeps the drinks and smokes flowing freely until he can bring the conversation around to politics, morals and values so he can see how receptive they might be to the Ministry's teachings.

With Ryan though he barely has to push, almost as if he had come to investigate Terzo's views and opinions for himself. He finds a like mind in Ryan, someone who sees the flaws in society and how they could be improved. He finds himself talking about Meliora openly much to his surprise, the gleaming metropolis of his imagination where people are unrestrained by the petty and the inconsequential, where the seven deadly sins are celebrated and encouraged.

He fears he slips up bringing his religion into his ramblings but Ryan is unaffected by the revelations. He asks directly if Terzo worships the Devil and when he says yes the response he receives is surprisingly respectful. Ryan doesn't believe in God so equally he doesn't believe in the Devil but if he had to pick between the two the one who would earn his regard is the one who chose His own path and didn't just blindly obey. They spend many a night discussing the possibilities of such a place well into the early hours neither of them sure that such a place would ever exist.

Time went on and the world changed. Prohibition ends and the club goes legitimate. Slowly but surely wider society begins to take notice of their live and let live policy and don't like it at all. What was once the place to be seen becomes the place an upstanding member of society would never be seen. Business dwindles as the depression takes hold and by the time the rumblings of the Second World War reach the US they close their doors for good. Terzo returns to the Ministry and to Europe, serving the Clergy in a much more traditional capacity, that is until in 1946 when he receives an invitation from an old friend.

source

It takes a hell of a lot to convince the Clergy to let him go, most of them writing off this supposed underwater metropolis as impossible. Eventually though the curiosity and ambition win out and they allow him to go but only if he takes a company of ghouls to keep him out of trouble and who have the abilities to get him out if the worst were to happen, most leaning towards the roof caving in under the pressure of the ocean.

Rapture is almost everything he imagined Meliora to be. The grandiose architecture, neon lights and atmosphere of excitement. The only difference was the underwater setting. It was fascinating, the low blue glow coming from all of the countless windows. Wherever he went he would find himself captivated by the swaying plants on the seabed, the schools of fish or the dark shadow of a whale passing by. The longer he stays the more he starts to forget, until he looks out the window and is reminded all over again of the fascinating place he lives.

source & source

He slips back into his old life so easily, finding many familiar faces from the social circles of New York making up the elite of Rapture. He secures a place in Fort Frolic and goes about recruiting the most beautiful and hedonistic people he can find to work at his club. Anything goes there as is the case with a lot of things in Rapture and it becomes so popular that Ryan even sends his mistress to work with him when she isn't otherwise occupied with him. Everything is perfect for a time but if you have played the games then you know what is coming next.

For now I think I will leave it there. I have a lot of ideas about how he tackles some of the issues that grow within Rapture but if this becomes a fully fledged fic I will save those for that. I hope you have enjoyed my ramblings and I would love to hear others thoughts and ideas if you have any!! I will leave you with the below quotes which were where I started with this so give them a read, would you kindly?

The world since he was last seen has changed. Called Moloch by some, the great industrial machine has been grinding away, grinding everything and everyone down in the process. Spies are everywhere. Their eyes are behind the screens of your televisions and devices, their ears attentive to every frequency in the air. Everything is mediated, pre-packaged, and pressure sealed, your lives preordained. From the cradle to the grave, the world moves along as if there is free will, but this is the grandest illusion. There is no power beyond that which the all-seeing eye controls. The gods are all dead. Even art is pure commodity. But some still fight, quietly at first, but soon they will rise and make the glorious noise of the ancients, donning their masks, these nameless ghouls led by Papa Emeritus III. - Source

To build a city at the bottom of the sea! Insanity. But where else could we be free from the clutching hand of the Parasites? Where else could we build an economy that they would not try to control, a society that they would not try to destroy? It was not impossible to build Rapture at the bottom of the sea. It was impossible to build it anywhere else. Source

"We would sit down to studying exciting Futurist manifestos, sketched the blueprints of utopian metropoles, spiked with shiny skyscrapers stabbing at the heavens belly… Wantonly swollen zeppelins would to carry our gospel of indulgence to the farthest corners of the globe to summon and enslave. (…) Forged in nostalgia of steam and fire, this brave new world of ambition, vice, lust and greed - all so inherent to the enlightened modernity, was always with him through all these years. And it is now - when our church continues to grow stronger and wealthier under wise reign of Papa Emeritus III -  that these visions may finally be witnessed and embraced in the preaching's of  'Meliora’ - his most contemporary and humane Encyclical.” - Source

source

I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture, a city where the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, Where the great would not be constrained by the small! And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city as well. Source

[savvytravelers]

Luxurious Nile Cruise

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Day-by-Day Itinerary

Day 1: Cairo Begin your journey in Cairo, where you'll be greeted by our representative who will assist with your luggage and customs. Relax and settle into your luxury hotel, enjoying the first glimpses of the Nile from your partial view room.

Day 2: Cairo Dive into Egypt's rich history at the Egyptian Museum, home to King Tut's treasures and a vast collection of artifacts. After a local lunch, visit the Alabaster Mosque at the Citadel of Saladin, offering panoramic views of Cairo. Conclude your day with a Welcome Reception featuring tapas and drinks.

Day 3: Cairo Explore the ancient capital of Memphis, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Marvel at the Pyramids of Giza, the Great Sphinx, and the necropolis of Sakkara. Enjoy a delightful lunch at the historic Mena House Hotel, followed by a leisurely evening.

Day 4: Cairo to Luxor Fly to Luxor, the ancient city of Thebes, and embark on your luxurious river cruise ship. Enjoy a Captain’s Welcome Cocktail as you prepare for the adventures ahead.

Day 5: Luxor Visit the Valley of the Kings and Queens, including a private tour of Queen Nefertari’s Tomb. Continue to the Temple of Hatshepsut and the Colossi of Memnon. In the evening, relax on the Upper Deck or join an informal cooking class.

Day 6: Edfu Discover the Temple of Horus in Edfu, one of Egypt’s best-preserved temples. Enjoy the timeless landscapes of the Nile as the ship cruises towards Aswan.

Day 7: Aswan Opt for a free morning or an excursion to Abu Simbel, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Later, take a felucca ride around Elephantine Island and consider an afternoon tea at the historic Old Cataract Hotel. End the day with a belly dance show on board.

Day 8: Aswan to Esna Visit the Philae Temple complex and a Nubian village on Hisa Island. Continue to the Great Temple of Kom Ombo, dedicated to Sobek and Haroeris. Celebrate local customs with a Galabeya Party on board.

Day 9: Esna to Luxor Cruise to Luxor, visiting the Temple of Karnak and a papyrus shop. Explore the Temple of Luxor and the vibrant Luxor Market.

Day 10: Luxor to Qena to Luxor Sail to Qena and visit the Temple of Hathor in Dendara, the best-preserved temple in Egypt. Return to Luxor for the night.

Day 11: Luxor to Cairo Disembark in Luxor and fly back to Cairo. Enjoy an exclusive tour of the Abdeen Presidential Palace, followed by a special lunch. Explore Coptic Cairo, including the Hanging Church and Ben Ezra Synagogue.

Day 12: Cairo Bid farewell to Cairo as you prepare for your flight home, completing an unforgettable journey through Egypt's ancient wonders.

Luxurious Accommodations and Amenities

Cairo (Pre-Cruise)

Arrival airport transfer

3 nights in a luxury hotel with a partial Nile view room, daily breakfast, and complimentary Wi-Fi

Full-day Cairo tour with visits to the Egyptian Museum, Citadel of Salah Ed-Din, and Alabaster Mosque

Visit to the Pyramids of Giza, the Great Sphinx, and Saqqara Museum

Lunch at the historic Mena House Hotel

Nile River Cruise

7-night river cruise in elegantly appointed accommodations

Fine dining options, including The Al Fresco Restaurant

Wine, beer, and soft drinks included during lunch and dinner

Sip & Sail cocktail hour, Welcome Cocktail, Welcome Dinner, and Gala Dinner

Dedicated English-speaking Egyptologist guide

Nightly entertainment, including belly dance shows and a Galabeya Party

Guided shore excursions and exclusive visits to historical sites

Onboard amenities: fitness room, sun-deck pool, hair and nail salon, massage room, and complimentary Wi-Fi

Cairo (Post-Cruise)

1 night in a luxury hotel with a partial Nile view room, breakfast, and complimentary Wi-Fi

Visits to the Hanging Church and Ben Ezra Synagogue

Exclusive private tour and lunch at the Abdeen Presidential Palace

Departure airport transfer

Optional Extensions

Enhance your adventure with a 3-night pre-cruise extension in Dubai, exploring the vibrant city known for its luxury shopping, modern architecture, and lively nightlife.

Conclusion

Experience the timeless allure of Egypt on our luxurious river cruise. From the bustling streets of Cairo to the serene landscapes along the Nile, this journey offers a unique blend of history, culture, and luxury. Explore iconic sites like the Pyramids of Giza, the Valley of the Kings, and the Temple of Luxor, guided by expert Egyptologists. Indulge in fine dining, exclusive experiences, and world-class service throughout your adventure. Join us for an unforgettable exploration of Egypt's ancient secrets and modern marvels with Savvy Travelers. Unlock the mysteries of this captivating land with our Egypt Odyssey!

[cagenewman]

CAGE & CORDELIA'S WEDDING OCTOBER 19, 2024

Immediately after the ceremony, guests are invited to the reception space, which has been decorated with lights, wooden tables, handmade signs, crystal chandeliers, and perfectly mingles Cordelia's elegance with Cage's rustic side. A catered meal will be provided buffet-style, with plenty of food & desserts, as well as an open bar and specialty cocktails. There will be live music during the dinner before the DJ takes over, and a cowboy hat bar, where guests are invited to create their own hat to wear for the evening. Enjoy your evening! | CEREMONY POST

Welcome to Cage & Cordelia's wedding reception! Please take a seat at any one of our tables (there is no assigned seating for this wedding, we want our friends and family to mingle), either inside the heated tent area, or outside. There is a dance floor that is half-covered, half open-air, and plenty for you to see and do while enjoying the evening. The wedding is kid-friendly, but please remember to leave the pets at home.

There will be an open bar for the evening. Beer, mixed drinks, wine, sodas, teas and lemonades will be available the whole night long. But! We also have specialty drinks that have been handcrafted by Elise Quinn and the staff of Taste. The bride's drink will be the Pomegranate French 75, and the groom's drink is the Blueberry Old Fashioned. Have one in their honor! Other special drinks for the night include whiskey collins, beer spritz (made with the groom's favorite beer, PBR) and sangria, with mocktail opens of apple ginger fizz, honey pear mocktail, and shirley temples for the kids.

To keep you well fed, we have tons of options from Overlook, Taste & Flour Co. Each table will have a basket of macarons, which pair delightfully with our cupcakes, both courtesy of Flour Co. The evening will start with hors d'oeurves from Taste, consisting of a charcuterie board at each table, and trays being passed around containing a number of pastry pizzas and flat breads, as well as shrimp and crab cakes. The meal is catered by Overlook, and served buffet style. Salads and fresh breads are offered first, followed by your choice of meat (chicken, fish or beef; pasta available for those who don't eat meat), and sides of macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes and a steamed vegetable medley.

The evening will start with the same live band that provided music for the ceremony, with a selection of the bride and groom's favorite songs on strings. After the meal, however, our very own Aisha Thevar will be taking over as DJ! The dance floor better be moving all night long! Whether you want to shake your thing in the tent, where it's warm, or outside, where you're in the fresh air, there's space for you!

There are a number of special songs that the bride and groom have selected to dance to for the evening. Cage and Cordelia will share their first dance to Willie Nelson's Nobody Knows Me Like You. In lieu of dances with parents, Cordelia will dance with the groom's son, Colton Newman, and Cage will dance with the bride's daughter, Rosalyn Newman to You Are my Sunshine by Zach Bryan. At the end of the night, at the groom's request, everyone is invited out to dance to Family Tradition by Hank Williams Jr.

The bride and groom have also created a playlist that you can listen to here if you want to get into the vibes of the wedding.

If you're looking for something fun to do during the wedding (besides dancing, of course!), there's plenty to get involved with. The bride and groom have hung chandeliers under a tree on the property for photo opportunities (grab Stelly or Lucie and ask for a few snaps!), and there are a couple of fire pits set up for s'mores! Complete with little packaged marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate pieces. And perhaps most exciting... a cowboy hat bar! Everyone is welcome to make one cowboy hat to wear and take home with them as a souvenir, make it as fancy or as simple as you'd like, there are tons of accessories to add to them. Don't forget to check out Mandy Hartman's painting of the bride and groom, as well! (She'd probably love if you delivered her a snack and a drink when you see her hard at work.)

To thank everyone for coming to their wedding, the bride and groom have made tea candle holder favors -- there should be one at every seat, so make sure that you leave with yours in tow! Thank you for being a part of our special day! xx

PLEASE USE THE HASHTAG #BUILDINGTHENEWMANS FOR ANY WEDDING POSTS.

[excesstv]

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍,   𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍   𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

it’s  time  to  raise  a  glass!  after  an  incredible  first  week  of  filming,  we’re  excited  to  invite  you  to  an  end  of  week  celebration—an  exclusive  watch  party  &  cocktail  reception  this  saturday,  8  pm,  at  the  luxurious  skyline  rooftop  bar,  just  steps  from  the  avalon.

event  details:

what:  watch  party  &  cocktail  reception where:  skyline  rooftop  bar when:  saturday,  8  pm dress  code:  cocktail  attire

the  evening  will  kick  off  with  an  exclusive  viewing  of  excesstv’s  premiere  footage,  giving  you  the  first  look  at  the  week's  most  captivating  moments,  connections,  and  conversations—all  set  against  the  stunning  manhattan  skyline.  afterward,  enjoy  cocktails,  hors  d'oeuvres,  and  the  chance  to  unwind  with  fellow  residents  as  we  toast  to  a  spectacular  first  week  on-camera.

join  us  for  an  unforgettable  night  of  elegance,  mingling,  and  a  preview  of  the  drama  that’s  about  to  redefine  life  at  the  avalon.

—  excesstv  production  team

𝐎𝐔𝐓  𝐎𝐅  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑

welcome to week 2 ( ?? ) ! you guys are amazing ...

this  event  is  optional,  but  encouraged  for  muse  development.

it  will  last  for  roughly  one  week  of  gameplay,  (  today  :  11/12/24  to  monday  11/18/24  )  you  are  free  to  post  any  starters  for  this  event  during  this  time.

however,  when  completed,  please  do  not  start  any  new  event  threads  (  you  are  always  more  than  welcome  to  continue  them  when  the  official  event  is  over  )

you  are  also  free  to  continue  /  start  any  non  event  threads  as  normal,  throughout  the  avalon  and  its  surrounding  areas.

our  new  task  for  the  week  is  to  post  your  muse's  style  template  for  the  cocktail  reception  (  if  your  muse  will  be  in  attendance  !  )

tag  any  starters  #  etv.event001  !

remember  to  meet  activity  requirements  you  must  have  3  replies  with  at  least  2  different  muns  (  or  participate  in  the  task  =  2  interactions,  participate  within  character  discord  channels  =  1  interaction,  post  a  starter  =  1  interaction  per  starter  )

have  fun  ,  happy  writing  !  please  don't  hesitate  to  reach  out  if  you  need  anything  .

[becomingkatie]

We had a friend's wedding to attend this weekend, with bachelorette events leading up to it starting Tuesday evening. It was nice to get out of the house and have things going on, but coming home to an empty house was really sad. It's always been, "yeah it's a bummer the vacation is over, but now we get to go home to Theo and he'll be so happy to see us." And now the house just feels lonely instead.

The bachelorette events were a LOT and I struggled a bit being around so many people, especially since so many of them were new to me. And being around a huge group of mostly Nigerian people feels even more anxiety-inducing because there's just a whole different attitude around timing, planning, expectations, etc. The other husbands stayed back til Friday and then flew down in time for the welcome dinner that night, but Ken flew down with me on Tuesday so instead of staying in the house with everyone I stayed in the hotel with him. That was nice - I could go participate in all the events but I had a little place to retreat to and get some quiet.

The wedding day itself was crazy! Nigerian ceremony in the morning, then American ceremony and reception in the evening. For the Nigerian ceremony, they hired someone to tie all the women's geles (the headpiece), and told us the night before to come to the venue a little early for that, like at 10 for the 10:30 ceremony. But then I woke up at 8 to missed calls from the bride's sister and messages saying "can you come to this hotel room right now to get your gele tied? there's about to be a backlog and we need to get everyone done asap." Ken and I were staying in a different hotel ~5 minutes away instead of the main one (booking issues) so it was a panicky way to wake up. Makeup has to be done first, so I basically did my makeup while still half asleep and Ken got us coffee while I did that. Then we rushed over and waited in line to get my gele tied.

Since we rented a car and most people didn't, we went to the other hotel to pick up our friends before taking them to the venue. There was brunch-y food available before the Nigerian ceremony. It was mostly what I would expect for brunch foods, with the addition of some things I'd never had before (moin moin - a bean pudding - was the most notable). The ceremony started an hour late, and then it went on and on. There was a lot of the groom's side praising the bride's side and requesting that her parents give her up. Then eventually the groom and bride had their own processions in, and each of them had a bit of ceremony with the other side's family. It was a lot, and by the time we left I was pretty pumped for a few hours of pajama time before getting ready for the American ceremony.

The American ceremony also started an hour late, and it was the most religious ceremony I have attended, including several that took place in churches. There was a full sermon, plus prayers. So many prayers. Every time I thought they'd prayed over this couple as much as could be done in one ceremony, there was another prayer.

By the time we finished the cocktail hour and made it to the reception, my goal was to stay until the dance floor opened. Then I revised the goal to stay until cake, since I knew there was another outfit change and grand entrance before they would open the dance floor. We made it to the dance floor opening, but just barely, and left with screaming headaches since neither of us thought to bring earplugs and the DJ was all up on the microphone, with the speakers at max.

Ultimately, it was lovely and wonderful, but I think I spent a lot more time feeling anxious and also physically uncomfortable than I did enjoying it. And now I'm really glad I have no more close friends with upcoming weddings.

[anns-works]

tell me about Defended By An Assassin im curious

Defended By An Assassin is a voltron canon-divergent-but-still-compliant-enough au i wrote in ye olden days. My hyperfixation has ended and am also out of motivation to finish it fully but a i still have a rough outline of the au notes. (I think it also helped me discover my gender so its kinda special to me despite it all)

The au mainly sees that an Altean ship w/ both a Galra and Altean inside it crash landed on earth in (an unspecified timeframe i never got around to calculating it) and the humans find their remains along w/ the cargo of raw Quintessence they were carrying w/ them. The ship lands on Russia and they hire a shady doctor i have titled as The Doctor to study the remains.

The Doctor then proceeds to (in predictably shady fashion) run human experimentation w/ his findings to form a being w/ both Nix (Galra) and Kaos (Altaean) genes inside a human combined w/ the Quintessence. Eventually the test subjects shift to children once it becomes apparent that they are the most receptive to it. Test subjects are kidnapped from all over the globe. Usually orphans that people won't miss. And young enough to still have all their baby teeth. Enter: Keith Kogane from texas yeehaw.

(In this au his dad died WAY earlier and he was plucked freshly from the chared remains of his house)

Keith has a fascinating dna which shows that it's half Nix dna. This is a new discovery and The Doctor really really wants to talk to the guy who banged the alien but hes fucking dead. But the results are already there w/ a human-Nix child, so why not add in the Kaos genes in there as well?

The vat of unidentified pure liquid energy they found in the crash (aptly named Ichor) proved to be very useful in this regard and The Doctor created more children with these human-Nix-Kaos cocktail and named them all Titans to aptly keep up w/ the theme.

These Titans then in ususal test subjects loosing their identity way were fashioned new names based on the theme. Also the whole shady experimentations were also very unethical (to say the fucking least) so a lot of people who funded the research but were kept unaware of the reselts are Very Not Happy abt the children thing. And oh! Would u look at that? The exposure to Ichor has led the Titans to develop strange abilities that can be harnessed in specific situations. Sure would be a shame if someone were to say, use this to silence the opposition.

So The Doctor basically made magic alien-energy-human 10 y/os who he manipulated into doing his dirty work and continuing his research on them.

The kids manage to get rescued and the facility destroyed cuz the fight involved Eris blowing up the afformentioned vat of ichor. Then the kids proceed to fuck off and disappear into various corners of the world to never talk to eachother again and bury all their problems and try to reintegrate themeselves into society.

Enter again: Keith Kogane, after having spent a brief stint as #02789nXs, before being Eris, spending half her time as Raven to assassinate people then back to being Keith again. He is Not adjusting well to society and then gets adopted by Shiro. He's now in the Garrison and James (Hermes. He was a fast little shit and it kept w/ the theme) is there and it was truly a devil's sacrament moment.

Then Shiro goes missing in a space mission and he gets himself kicked out if the Garrision. There is also a giant blue lion in the middle of the desert did they mention that? Wait what- SHIRO?!?!!! Who the fuck are you people. Dont come into my house and just- fine make yourself at home. Welcome to my cave w/ drawings and this big ass- how the fuck did you do that what the fuck. Are we in space. Is that earth. Is that a wormhole. What the fuck.

And now hes working as a fucking Defender of the Universe in a mecha lion w/ a 10000 y/o princess and Coran who call themselves Alteans but they are. Just. They're fucking Kaos people. And the main people are they're up against are called Galra, except she knows for a FACT that those bitches are Nix and there us also the uncomfortable fact of being half of the species (along w/ other things) that are taking over the unuverse. Shes not telling that to Allura.

And the whole thing about Ichor Quintessence comes up and hes just really trying to not deal w/ the mortifying ideal if being known and neither half Altean-half Galra prince Lotor or the Blade of Marmora are helping with it.

Some other notes is have written down abt this au:

Keith is 100% trans but no one knows in which direction. The Kaos shapeshifting powers are not helping w/ the problem even in the slightest.

During the Titan days there was some kind of love triangle thing going in w/ Eris, Hermes and Apollo and no one could tell who was into who either so it was just a source of angst and pining for the three of them and embarrassment for everyone involved.

On the plus side, Apollo and Hermes made Keith realize he has a thing for boys w/ blue eyes but on the downside: Lance fucking Mcclain

Lotor and Keith have a very complicated relationship cuz they are just dealing w/ similar things and Keith wants to help him w/ his place as a Galra/Altean but at the same time hes not ready to deal w/ his own issues either.

The whole returning to earth to find it under invasion moment has most of the Titans out of hiding and helping w/ their powers to beat the galra. Apollo is there but his name is Solace and the James-Keith-Solace pining trainwreck is back baby.

Keith also has very complicated feelings abt his mom.

The fallout of when Keith explains his human-galra-altean heritage to everyone involved one broken nose, several instances of the phrase "What the quiznak", 3 broken tables, 5 messed up lab equipment and many moments of awkward standing around by team voltron + Kolivan as Allura screams at Keith.

At one point Acxa just gets adopted into the Titans group. She's not even an honorary member they've 100 percent accepted her as one of them. Yes there was an initiation ceremony that involved a lot of stomping and chanting that called a lot of noise complaints. Yes Lotor was also in the corner as the actual honorary member wearing a hat that said "INTERN".

Thomas (Zeus) was literally the only one with the braincell in the Titan days and did not get paid enough to deal w/ all the bullshit. He has also been called many variations of mom/dad several times and has mainly accepted his fate.

The Titans also have these cool tattoo like patterns on their bodies that glow whenever they're using their powers.

Also Kosmo is the Titan's mascot and everyone (Keith) is willing to kill/die for it.

[jerzwriter]

All in the Past

AU Mini-Series Part 1 of 3

This started as a request from @angelasscribbles for ONE scene. Three parts later... I decided to make this a follow-up and alternate ending to one of my favorite short, angsty AUs, Unblemished, because we needed more angst. All three parts will be posted today.

Series Summary: Tobias & Casey were friends turned lovers whose different dreams led them to become friends once again. Two years after their painful breakup, Casey has moved on. Tobias is in town to attend his friend and one-time love's wedding, with his new girlfriend on his arm. It's just the wedding of an old friend, or, is it?

Part 1 Summary: Tobias and Meghan leave Boston to attend Casey's wedding in Raleigh, North Carolina. It's a little getaway, a happy trip to see his two friends get hitched. But prewedding events lead to unexpected and uninvited emotions coming to the surface. Tobias gets a cold shoulder from Sienna, and their frank conversation leaves more questions than answers.

Book: Open Heart (Post Series)

Characters/Pairings: Casey MacTavish (F!MC) x M!OC, Tobias Carrick x F!OC, Sienna Trinh

Rating: Teen

Words: 2,700

Series Masterlist

Tobias x Casey Masterlist | OH Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Ladies and gentlemen, we have touched down at Raleigh-Durham International Airport, where it is 80 degrees, and conditions are bright and sunny. We thank you for flying Transit Airlines and wish you the best with whatever brings you to the area. 

"Sir?" A woman gently nudged Tobias's arm when he didn't reply. "Sir... I'm sorry, but I need to get...."

"Oh, of course," Tobias apologized, jumping from his seat to allow the woman through.

He was usually the first to get off a flight, but today, he found himself lost in his thoughts, and he still hadn't found his way back as he reached into the overhead compartment to grab his bag. All it took was an arm looping around his waist to snap him back into the present. The petite, red-haired beauty's smile lit up the cabin as she held him tight; she was as happy as he was pensive.

"I missed you," she beamed. "You were such a gentleman agreeing to give that mom your seat so she could sit with her child, but I have a warning for you."

"Oh yeah," he grinned. "What’s that?”

“If we’re ever on a flight longer than two hours, you’re prohibited from doing that. I need you near me... deal?”

“I’ll tell you what. If we’re ever on a flight longer than two hours, I’ll spring for first class, so it’s not an issue.”

“Hmmm, I could handle that,” Meghan smiled.

“Good,” he smiled, taking her hand. “Now, let’s get off this plane.”

~~~~~

He couldn’t describe his mood if he tried. Melancholy was too sad;  wistful may be more fitting, though neither truly worked. He was happy, he reminded himself. More importantly, Casey was happy, too. It had been over two years since that cold Boston night when they tearfully said goodbye. Fast friends from the start, they eventually turned into much more. When different goals ended their dreams of “forever,” they were heartbroken and said goodbye, foolishly believing it was where their story ended. People don’t always see the invisible string that binds souls that are meant to be connected, and when Casey’s phone rang three months later, not answering was never a consideration. They started as friends, and perhaps that’s where they were meant to be. That’s what they were now. Friends. Good friends.

“Welcome to the Umstead Hotel,” an overexuberant young woman smiled. “What name is your reservation under?”

“Uh... Carrick. Dr. Tobias Carrick.”

“I have you right here! You’re in town for the MacTavish-Duncan wedding?”

“That’s right,” he nodded.

“Wonderful! The couple is hosting a cocktail reception for their out-of-town guests in the lounge at six.”

“That’s so sweet!” Meghan gushed, taking hold of Tobias’s arm. “We’re going, right?”   

“Of course,” he smiled with some apprehension. “As long as I get in a nap... that early flight wiped me out more than I thought it would.”

“Fine, old man,” Meghan laughed as they entered the elevator, her head firmly on his shoulder.

He was just tired. He told himself. Besides, it was normal to feel emotional when a good friend was married. And Casey was among his best. It all made sense. Perfect sense.  

~~~~~

The evening found him at the bar alone, anxiously twirling his old-fashioned in his hand. They had only been in their room fifteen minutes when Meghan realized she left her shoes in Boston. She was in an Uber on her way to the North Hills Mall in minutes, leaving Tobias to his nap. She promised she’d be back by six, but Tobias knew her well enough to know if shoe shopping was involved... he’d be lucky if she returned by ten.  

He noticed a small group of wedding guests mingling toward the back of the lounge but didn’t recognize any faces. The normally social doctor wasn’t in the mood for small talk, so he stayed put. He didn’t want to come at all, but hurting Casey’s feelings wasn’t something he was willing to do. Now, it looked like she was a no-show for her own party, so he made a decision. He had already waited the requisite twenty minutes; he was finishing this drink and then making a beeline back to his room. But as he raised the glass to his lips, he heard her voice. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, he’d know it anywhere.

“Hello, stranger!”

They were just friends now, nothing more. So why did he feel his heart flutter? His signature smirk was firmly in place before turning to greet her. A natural defense mechanism to keep the butterflies at bay. But when his eyes fell upon her, all pretense disappeared. 

How did she only become more beautiful? Etheral is how he’d describe her. Blonde hair pulled into a whispy updo, with delicate off-white flowers pinned to hold it in place. Her matching silk dress gracefully skimmed over every curve that he knew so well, and her smile. That smile had melted his heart and pulled him out of more bad days than he dared to count. And after all the years he’d known her, after all they had been through, it still rendered him speechless. Noticing his silence was lasting too long, he jumped from his bar stool to embrace her. A brilliant grin hid the war of emotions battling inside him.

“Stranger indeed! I haven’t heard from you in a while, kid. I was beginning to think you rescinded my invitation.”

“As if!” Casey laughed. “It hasn’t been that long. You try managing a busy career, a publishing deadline, and planning a wedding for two hundred of your nearest and dearest. See how much time you’d have to chat.”  

“Casey... do you ever see me in that position?” He asked wryly.

He swore he saw her smile falter, and a bit of her effervescence was gone. But why would it be? She was happy. It must have been one old-fashioned too many.   

“No,” she spoke softly. “I guess I don’t.”

“You look stunning,” he smiled. “How do you plan to outdo this on your big day?”

“Stop,” she said with a playful slap on his arm. “I’m immune to your flattery by now, don’t you know?”

They both laughed nervously as his eyes roamed the room. Still, no sight of Meghan, and someone else was missing, too.

“Where’s Craig? I haven’t heard from him either. I was going to see if we could shoot some hoops before the wedding.”

“He got called into an emergency surgery,” she shrugged. “The glamourous life of doctors. And where is Mandy? You said you were bringing a plus one. I assumed she’d be joining you.”

“Mandy? It’s Meghan,” he chuckled. “Mandy and I broke up some time ago.”  

“Oh, sorry. It’s hard to keep up with you. So, where is your latest and greatest?”

“She had to run to the mall for a few things. But she’ll be back soon.”

“Good,” Casey smiled politely. “I can’t wait to meet her. How long have you two...” She raised her hands, visibly checking herself. Her cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business...”

“It’s OK,” Tobias laughed, reassuringly touching her elbow, then dropping it when the gesture took both by surprise. “It’s not a state secret. Only a few months... don’t worry... we’re not headed down the alter anytime soon.”

Casey let out a wry laugh, and her words came out more curtly than intended. “I didn’t expect you would be.”

“Yeah,” Tobias muttered, gulping down the remains of his drink. “Walking down aisles isn’t exactly my thing. Is it?”

“Well, it was your excuse for ending things with me,” she replied with her arms crossed. “But you never know. Sometimes people change.”

Casey felt her stomach drop. What if he had changed? Accepting that Tobias was generally opposed to marriage was one thing, but if he ever took that step, she’d have to admit that marriage wasn’t the issue... she was, and that was too painful to imagine. She began to perspire, and was filled with worry. This wasn’t the reaction she should be having when her wedding was just over a day away. Her eyes darted around the room, desperate for a reason to escape.

“Well, I should mingle with the other guest,” she settled on. “Without Craig here, it’s double duty for me. But you and Meghan will be at brunch tomorrow morning, right?”

He hadn’t been aware there was a brunch. And since laying eyes on Casey, attending more wedding events was the last thing he wanted to do, but he detected the hint of pleading in her voice.

“Do you want me there?” he asked softly.

Casey nodded effusively. “I do.”

“Then I’ll be there,” he assured. “We both will.”

~~~~~

Brunch was... awkward. Tobias was sure Casey thought seating them together was a good idea, but she probably didn’t know how long Sienna Trinh could hold a grudge. And with Sienna’s plus one coming down with the flu, Tobias, Meghan, and Sienna made for an awkward trio.

Casey viewed their breakup as mutual, but Siennna saw things differently. Tobias was a stupid man who let his commitment issues ruin a wonderful thing, leaving her friend heartbroken. He hoped more than two years passing and Casey marrying someone else would have changed Sienna’s opinion of him, but all indications said otherwise. Sienna picked at her stack of blueberry pancakes as they all struggled to make small talk. Perhaps they could talk shop?

“So, Meghan, you’re at Edenbrook, too? What department do you work in?”

“I’m a paralegal. I work with the CEO.”

“Oh,” Sienna smiled politely, that didn’t work. After more uncomfortable silence, Meghan made the next attempt.

“I’m really looking forward to the wedding. The venue they selected is just beautiful! I’ve seen it on some wedding shows but never thought I’d get to attend a wedding there.”

Sienna held back a laugh. “I can understand that. I mean... because we live in Boston, and you know... you’re with Tobias.”

Losing patience, Tobias tossed his linen napkin on the table. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Si?”

“Just that you avoid weddings like the plague. I was shocked to hear you were coming.”

“It’s Casey’s wedding,” he smiled tersely. “Do you think I’d miss it?”

“I guess the answer’s no,” Sienna smiled smugly.

“You know, I’m going to run to the ladies' room,” Meghan announced. 

Sienna wiped her lip, “I’ll join you.”

“No,” Meghan insisted. “I need a moment away from this cold war, and if you both care about Casey as much as you profess to, maybe you should work out whatever... this... is before her wedding day. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Tobias and Sienna sat slack-jawed momentarily, then a slight smile formed on his lips. 

“I guess I deserved that,” Sienna stated. “Meghan seems lovely, and no matter my feelings toward you, I shouldn’t have made her uncomfortable. I owe her an apology.”

“Maybe what we owe her is doing what she asked us to do,” he replied. “Sienna... what exactly is your problem with me? I know people can be bitter about their best friend’s exes, but Casey and I are good friends. If we put the past in the past, why can’t you?”

Sienna shut her eyes, warring over how much she should or should not say.

“It’s different,” she started cautiously. “I got to see the extent of the damage after the two of you fell apart. Whose apartment do you think she ended up at that last night in Boston? Who do you think she sat on the phone listening to her cry all night after she moved? I know you were hurting after things ended, but I experienced her pain. You were spared that.”

“Sienna, breakups are painful. You know that! And no, I didn’t see her immediate aftermath because we felt not contacting each other for a while would be for the best. But I was living through my own personal hell. It was hard on both of us.”

“Then why’d you do it? Tobias? All she wanted was a future with you... You’re the one who said it wasn’t possible!”

“We wanted different futures. Hers included a wedding... just like this one... a house in the suburbs, two kids, and a dog. I never wanted that and didn’t want to promise her something I couldn’t guarantee. Don’t you think I had wished I could? I could put you on the phone with my best friend. Kerry would tell you how wrong it was for Casey to want that life more than she wanted me... but you’re both wrong. We made a choice together, and it was painful as fuck. But, Si, it wasn’t my fault.”

“I guess,” Sienna sighed. “It’s just hard to see you both throw something so special, so rare away. It’s two years later and still hard to see.”

“I understand, but... Casey was dating Craig six months later, and she’s marrying him tomorrow. She and I are friends, hell, Craig and I are friends... so why are we even discussing this?”

“Because I’m her best friend... and I know how someone should be acting before they get married... and I still don’t see that in Casey.”

“What... what are you talking about....”

“She’s happy, sure... to a degree... but I’ve seen her when she was truly happy, and this seems like a facsimile.”

“Sienna,” he stalled, “She’s busy planning this weekend and under a lot of stress, but I’ve been around them. She loves Craig.”

“I know she does,” Sienna replied. “But she was in love with you.”

Tobias sat in stunned silence when he noticed Craig mingling with guests across the way. Looking for any excuse to evade the topic, he spat, “There’s Craig, uh... I’ve been looking for him... wanted to see him before the wedding, but he seems a little evasive...”

“Of course he has. Don’t you realize? Tobias, you’re the one who got away. You’re her best friend... other than me... that is. Do you think he needs a reminder before he says his I dos?”  

“I... I thought coming here was the right thing to do... I just wanted to... to be here for them... and to see...”

“To see what?”

“To see she really moved on. To really... let her go.”

“Right,” Sienna smiled. “But you’re over her. I’m glad we talked, T. I think my bitterness toward you is just my overprotectiveness of Casey. I love her. But I can be a bit of a momma bear.”

“No shit!” he said with a half-smile as Sienna narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m trying to make amends. Shut up before I change my mind. Truce?”

“Of course. How could I be mad at you for being protective of Casey.”

“I know,” Sienna smiled, pushing away from the table. “Do me a favor. Just lay low until the wedding. Be there to support her, then go live your life and let Casey move on with hers. We have to trust that she made this decision knowing what’s right for her, and... we should both respect that.”

“I never intended to do anything but.”

“Good.” Sienna looked up and saw Meghan approaching the table. “I owe you an apology and want to thank you. This talk was overdue, and I promise. We’ll be grown-ups from now on.”

“Hey, I was being a grown-up,” Tobias protested.

“Tobias, is this the hill you want to die on?” Sienna snapped back.

“Continue...” he grinned.  

Sienna extended her hand. “It was very nice meeting you.”

“It’s lovely meeting you, too,” Meghan agreed. “Maybe we can get coffee back in Boston?”

“Sure, I’d like that. Tobias, I like her... be good to her.”

Tobias slipped his hand into Meghans and smiled. “That’s my intention. Thanks, Sienna.”

After Sienna walked away, Tobias turned to Meghan and thanked her for forcing them to talk. “You’re pretty special, you know. that?”

“I do,” she smiled sweetly. “But let's go back to our room because now it’s our turn to talk.”

"About?"

"About why we're at this wedding..."

"Meg," Tobias sighed. "We're here to see my friend... my friends... get married. Nothing more."

"Good, then it won't be an issue to have a quick talk about it...right?"

He let out a soft sigh. It was the last thing he wanted, but he knew better than to think Meghan would let it go.

"Right," he stood up, extending his hand to her. "Lead the way."

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @choicesjuly2023challenge - Fairytale

[d-criss-news]

Darren Criss to Headline A.C.T.'s 2nd Annual ALL HALLOWS GALA

American Conservatory Theater (A.C.T.) and gala co-chairs Heather Stallings Little & John Little and David Jones & Joe D'Alessandro have announced Zombie Ball, the second annual All Hallows' Gala being held on Friday, October 27 at San Francisco's August Hall (420 Mason St.). Hailed as San Francisco's best costume party fundraiser, the All Hallows' Gala Zombie Ball will present guests with a frightfully elegant and theatrical night full of fun and friendship. The evening is the sole annual fundraising event for A.C.T., providing essential funds for the theater's artistic, actor training, and education and community programs. Guests at this year's Zombie Ball are encouraged to dress in costume or cocktail attire.

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“A.C.T.'s All Hallows' Gala is the theater's sole fundraising event, providing essential funds for our artistic, actor training, and education and community programs,” said Heather Stallings Little, Gala Co-Chair and A.C.T. Trustee. “John and I hope you will come out—either in zombie or zombie-fighting costume, or whatever you're comfortable in—and join us, our co-chairs, and special guest artist Darren Criss for what is going to be a fabulously fun evening.”

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The wonderfully frightening evening begins at 6:30 p.m. with a cocktail reception where guests will enjoy live music and conversation on the mezzanine, or escape to the “scream-easy” for a luxe respite. Welcome bites and thirst-quenching brews will be offered. At 7:30 p.m., guests will be ushered to the historic music hall and treated to a lavish autumnal-inspired menu created by Gold Leaf Catering. At 8:30 p.m., A.C.T. Young Conservatory alum and award-winning stage, screen, and music recording artist Darren Criss (American Buffalo, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace, Glee) will regale with some thrilling, Halloween-themed programming! Cap off the festive evening with the After-Life Party, featuring ultimate dance band Vinyl Project and the opportunity to play retro-games in the cool underground haunt, which includes bowling, hoops, skee-ball, and late-night bites, tricks, and treats! Be sure to capture your picture in one of the photoBOOths—humans only, no zombies allowed.