A/N: After reading @studentinpursuitofclouds headcanon about the bachelors/ettes' reactions to being kidnapped for revenge or ransom only for their furious Farmer spouse to storm in and rescue them. I felt inspired. I couldn’t help but write a version for Lance, blending it with my farmer OCs' backstories. Hope you enjoy the fic!
The moon loomed high over the farmhouse, casting its pale, silver glow across the quiet fields. The night was still, almost unnervingly so, with only the soft rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. The greenhouse stood as a lone beacon in the darkness, its glass panels faintly aglow, sheltering a world of warmth and life separate from the cool hush outside. Inside, Rosemary moved among rows of flourishing crops, the earthy scent of soil and faint hum of lingering magic surrounding her. Yet, despite the comforting atmosphere, a knot of unease twisted tightly in her chest.
Lance should be home by now.
He had left at dawn, that familiar confident grin on his face, promising—promising—to return before sunset. She had believed him. Lance always kept his word. But now, as the hours stretched long past nightfall, the promise felt like a fading echo.
A message had come earlier, brief and reassuring. But Rosemary’s instincts screamed otherwise. She brushed her gloved fingers over the rough skin of a void root. The dark, twisted form seemed to absorb the soft light, pulsing faintly with ancient magic. She tried to focus on the task at hand—on the routine—but her thoughts kept circling back to one question.
Why isn’t he back?
Her pruning slowed. Water dripped from a nearby watering can. The silence grew thick.
Then it happened.
A chill—sharp and sudden—sliced down her spine.
Her breath hitched.
Her gloved hand froze mid-motion.
It wasn’t a sound. Not a shadow shifting in the corner of her vision. No. This was deeper. Internal. Like something inside her had snapped.
No...
The comforting aura of Lance’s magic, ever-present beside her own like a steady heartbeat—had vanished.
Gone.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
“No.”
The word escaped her lips in a broken whisper. The trowel slipped from her hand, clattering against the stone path. A ragged cry tore from her throat as she stumbled back. Her gaze snapped toward the hills beyond the farmhouse. She reached inward—desperately—trying to find the familiar pulse of his magic.
There. Faint. So faint.
But still there.
A gasp tore from her.
Lance...
Alive. Barely conscious. But alive. Reaching for her.
Her hands fumbled for her phone. The screen blurred before her eyes as her fingers darted across it, moving faster than her mind could process. Only one number mattered.
The line rang once. Twice.
“Rosie?”, Her sister’s voice answered calm as ever, but edged with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Cerise!!! I can’t feel him.” Rosemary’s voice cracked. “His magic! it’s gone—I don’t know what’s happening, what does it mean?”
Silence.
A silence that stretched for only a moment but felt like a lifetime.
When Cerise finally spoke, her tone had shifted, cool, sharp, edged with something Rosemary rarely heard from her sister: fear.
“No… they wouldn’t.” The words came as a whisper. Then, sharper, cold with realization: “Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon.”
Rosemary’s grip tightened around the phone.
“They must've took him.”
The words hung heavy in the air.
“They took my husband.”
This time, her voice was low, dangerous, a quiet fury simmering beneath each syllable.
Cerise inhaled sharply on the other end of the line. “Most likely. If they couldn’t get my Jio, their next move would be—”
“I’m going.”
“Rose—”
“I’m not waiting around, sister.” Rosemary’s jaw tightened. Her ocean jade eyes—usually bright and warm—narrowed into cold flames of determination. “I’m getting my husband back. Whatever it takes.”
”Rosemary, wait—”
But the call had already ended.
Without hesitation, Rosemary snatched up her sword from the greenhouse floor. The blade thrummed with her magic, responding to her rage. She pulled on her dark cloak, fastened the clasp at her neck, and slung a pouch of potions over her shoulder.
She stepped out into the night.
She didn’t need a plan.
Only a direction.
Lance’s faint magic—like a whisper at the edge of her mind—would guide her.
“Hold on, love” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m coming.”
And nothing would stand in her way.
The room reeked of damp stone and stale air, a subterranean prison swallowed by oppressive darkness. The narrow space was barely lit by a flickering lantern that hung from a rusted chain in the corner, its dim glow casting trembling shadows across the concrete walls slick with condensation. The ceiling sagged low, pressing down like a weight upon the soul. The air itself was suffocating, thick with the scent of mold and the faint, undeniable metallic tang of old blood. A chill seeped from the stone floor, gnawing at the skin, while the silence—broken only by the rhythmic drip of water echoing from some distant corridor—felt almost unnatural. But worse than the cold or the damp was the lingering, suffocating aura of magic that clung to every surface, woven into the very air. It was a cruel enchantment, designed to sap strength, to suppress power. And it was working.
Lance shifted in the chair he had been bound to, the rough rope digging into his wrists. His head hung low, dark pink hair falling messily into his face. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes, sharp and insistent, growing worse with each breath drawn in the magic-saturated air. His eyes flickered open with slow, deliberate effort. His arms ached from the tight restraints that hummed faintly with the same suppressive power in the room. Even the smallest attempt to draw upon his magic was met with resistance, a suffocating weight that dulled the spark he relied on.
A breath slipped from his lips—slow, frustrated, bitter.
The Second-in-Command of the First Slash Clan, renowned combat mage, captured.
Not by a rival clan worthy of his strength. Not in battle against some formidable foe.
No, by a group of low-ranking mafia thugs who had no comprehension of the power they were trifling with.
The humiliation stung, but it wasn’t the real issue gnawing at him. His pride could endure this. What he could not endure was the knowledge he had failed. Failed to see the ambush coming. Failed to protect what mattered most. With all his training, all his magical prowess, he should have burned through these restraints with a flick of his wrist. But this room—the entire place—reeked of the kind of magic meant to weaken him, suppress him, render him vulnerable.
Still, it wasn’t his own fate that consumed his thoughts.
It was hers.
The realization cut deeper than any blade.
They weren’t after him.
They were after Rosemary.
He had heard them, muffled voices beyond the door, carelessly assuming he was too weak, too broken to care. But he had listened. Every word. Every plan. The truth had struck him harder than any blow. They believed that taking him would draw her out. They thought Rosemary would come running, desperate and vulnerable—a perfect trap.
But they didn’t know her.
They didn’t know Rosemary.
She wasn’t some fragile woman to be lured like a helpless bird. She had Cerise’s blood in her veins—the blood of the Crimson Wraith.
And worse still, they didn’t simply want to use her as bait. No. Their plan was far more twisted. They wanted her alive. They wanted to mold her into a weapon—a new puppet assassin forged from the only sister of the Crimson Wraith.
The thought made Lance’s jaw tighten, his fingers twitching against the ropes. His entire being recoiled at the idea of anyone laying a hand on her. His Rosemary. His wife. The woman who had fought for her freedom, who had lived in the shadow of her sister’s bloody past but had never allowed it to define her. They thought they could twist her into something she wasn’t.
The audacity.
The rage brewed quietly beneath his composed exterior, his magic stirring despite the oppressive weight. He would burn this place to ash for even daring to think of touching her.
The door creaked open.
Rusty hinges groaned like a dying animal, breaking the stillness.
Lance lifted his head, eyes narrowing as two figures stepped into the dim light. One was tall, broad-shouldered, with a jagged scar slashing across his cheek—a permanent sneer carved into his skin. The other remained near the door, arms crossed, eyes dull with boredom.
The scarred man grinned, a slow, mocking curve of his lips.
“You know.” he drawled, stepping forward with deliberate slowness. “None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t married that red-haired bitch. We didn’t want you. You were never the target.”
He crouched, bringing his face close enough that Lance could smell the foul mix of tobacco and cheap liquor on his breath.
“We wanted her sister. Cerise. She was... valuable to us. But she escaped. Left everything behind, dragging her little sister along like a coward.”
His grin widened, malicious satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
“But now? We have something better. You see, we realized something. What better way to replace the Crimson Wraith than with her own blood? We’ll take your precious wife, and turn her into the perfect weapon. Our new puppet.”
The words echoed in the damp room.
Lance didn’t move. His expression didn’t change. His face remained calm, far too calm.
But inside?
How dare you.
The air shifted.
Even bound and suppressed, his magic stirred, a quiet storm gathering, waiting. The ropes bit into his wrists, but they were nothing more than an inconvenience. He would burn this entire place to the ground before he let them touch her.
And then—
Footsteps.
At first faint, almost mistaken for an echo. But then louder. Steady. Unyielding.
The two mafia members stiffened. Their smug confidence faltered.
The pressure in the air built, thick and suffocating. The flickering lantern dimmed, shadows crawling further along the walls. The footsteps didn’t slow.
They grew louder. Closer.
And then—
The door exploded inward.
Wood shattered into splinters. The force of the blast sent fragments clattering across the stone floor. The oppressive magic that had choked the room recoiled instantly. For a moment, the air itself seemed to fear the figure standing in the doorway.
Rosemary stood there—fury incarnate.
Her rose-red hair blazed in the dim light, cascading behind her like a river of flame. Ocean jade eyes burned with unrelenting rage and fear, swirling with power she no longer cared to conceal. The aura surrounding her crackled with raw magic—a tempest on the brink of being unleashed.
“Where...”, she whispered, her voice low, trembling with restrained wrath, “Is my husband?”
The scarred man stumbled back. “Oh shit-!” he muttered in disbelief, glancing at his companion.
But the moment he moved—
Rosemary vanished.
A flash of purple swept through the air. Her blade glinted once, a crescent of death cutting through the dim light. With a scream, the scarred man flew backward, crashing into the far wall with a sickening crunch. The second man barely had time to react before Rosemary descended on him with relentless precision. Her strikes were merciless—graceful yet devastating. Every movement spoke of years of training, of lessons carved into muscle and bone.
They had expected a weak sister.
They received a force of nature.
The second man crumpled to the floor without a sound.
Silence fell.
Lance remained still, his gaze fixed on the woman who had torn apart his captors without hesitation. His heart thundered in his chest—not out of fear, but awe. She had come for him. She had shattered their illusions. She was magnificent.
Rosemary turned.
Her gaze softened the moment it met his. The fury faded, replaced by something far deeper—fear, worry, desperation.
“Lance.”
Her voice broke.
In two strides, she was beside him, dropping to her knees. Her hands reached for his face first, trembling as they brushed against his skin, as if afraid he would vanish.
“Are you—did they—?” Her voice cracked, unable to form the question.
“I’m fine.” His voice was soft but firm, though his smile faded when he saw the tears shining in her eyes.
“No, you’re not.” She gritted her teeth, glancing at the glowing restraints. Without hesitation, her fingers tightened around the ropes. Magic pulsed through her veins, rushing to her hands.
The ropes hissed.
With a surge of power and a cry laced with all the fear and rage she had suppressed, Rosemary ripped them apart. The restraints shattered into ash beneath her touch.
Lance didn’t move. He simply watched her—watched as she clung to him, as her shoulders shook.
“I thought—” she choked out, “I thought I was too late.”
Gently, Lance wrapped his arms around her.
“You weren’t.”
She buried her face in his chest. “I would have destroyed this whole place if they’d laid a hand on you.”
“I know.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You were perfect.”
“No.” She pulled back slightly, her ocean jade eyes locking onto his, fierce even through the tears. “Not perfect. Just in time.”
And when Lance leaned forward to press his lips to hers, tender lingering. It wasn’t simply relief that filled the space between them.
It was a promise.
A promise that no matter who came for them next, no matter what shadows lurked in the past, they would face them—together.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Pairing: Lance (SDVE) x f!reader Word Count: 6,334 (whew...) Warnings: Smut (basically porn with plot lol), talks of rough sex Tags: Established relationship, oral (male + female receiving), rough sex, creampie, little bit of fluff
SYNOPSIS Lance wants to have get rough in bed but doesn't want to take it too far, not until you give him permission to. A/N: Y'all, this is my first fanfic and of course I did smut as my first. :')) I’d appreciate feedback bc I wanna get better, but please be nice (im fragile) Listen, when I first played Stardew Valley Expanded, I KNEW I was just down bad for Lance. I absolutely simp for those pixels. This turned out to be WAY longer than I anticipated but oh well, I think I like how it is. Also, thank you so much @neet-elite for responding with writing tips. Your response really gave me the inspiration to just get up and write something I like. I appreciate you!
Before you knew it, you were getting railed harder than you've ever been railed in your life — let alone from your usually sweet and slow, doting boyfriend. It was only a week ago that you even broached the subject of rough sex; the culmination of late-evening pillow talk. Sex with Lance wasn't dissatisfying, in fact, it was probably the best you've ever had, you think to yourself. He is simply good at everything he ever attempts, and sexual endeavors would be no different.
Lance has a way of making you become undone. Planting kisses on your neck, trailing down your body until he reaches the wet spot between your thighs. Then he gauges your reaction; studies the way you pant heavier in anticipation, whine and shuffle your hips closer to his face until you're practically begging him to drown in you. Only then will he go in for the plunge. Lapping up your wetness like he's starved, lightly humming as he licks your clit. He slowly teases your wet cunt with his calloused fingers before shoving them deep into the part that makes you see stars. He always has to have you cumming at least twice before he even thinks about getting himself off. That's the way Lance is, that's just his routine.
You love that about him, always selfless and he always thinks about you first. It's a rare brand of kindness you don't often see in others, but he's particularly and lovingly considerate of you. It does, however, leave you wondering how you can be considerate of him. You hate to be a skeptic, but his kindness makes you wonder if he sacrifice his own needs to prioritize yours. It's something you've seen all too often, but Lance is never the type to complain, not explicitly at least. After finally getting together a year ago, you've learned a lot of his little mannerisms. His eyebrows cross slightly when he's confused, his shoulders tense to a specific position when he's stressed. Learning his habits gives you a sense of comfort and domesticity. So, you've taken from his playbook and began to study his reactions, and it was through this you've discovered something in particular.
Likely a result of his training, he never acts out of turn. Always the gentleman, he lets you set the pace and only lays his hands on you when you give explicit permission. This surprises you a little, honestly. While he's never been foolhardy, he always struck you as unwaveringly confident; an incredible flirt. He's a man who trusts his instincts and he's hardly every wrong in trusting them. So when he looks at you longingly, waiting for your permission to ravish you with his hands, clearly eager but hesitant, it's a little unexpected.
He always reassures you that he enjoys having sex with you when you ask, which is almost good enough to fool you. Clearly, you can see he enjoys it by his eagerness to go for another round and how easy it is for you to get him hard again. But something in the pained look on his face, maybe the furrow of his eyebrows or the regimented movements of his thrusts, makes you feel like there's something wrong.
These kind of thoughts have a funny way of eating away at you. And this thought in particular has been eating at you for a while now, until your worries spills out of you one night you've decided to keep him company at the Outpost. After exhausting scouting days, you've made a habit of keeping Lance company through his night watch duties. Though, you're likely more of a distraction than an aid but he doesn't mind it all. Nestling close to you in bed makes the cold stone walls of the tower feel like home, a concept he had a hard time defining until he met you. You find the same comfort in him, so naturally, your inner thoughts aren't kept secret from him for long.
"Lance?" you ask as sweetly as you can muster in spite of the obvious pit in your stomach. You wait for his response, counting the stone slabs across the ceiling while lying on his linen sheets. "Yes, my love?" he replies in reassuring tone — he's all too familiar with your anxious tells, though you're not sure what gave it away this time. "I want you to answer me honestly, even if it's not what I want to hear. I just genuinely want to know." You were just filled with so many questions, which soon turn into (rather irrational) assumptions. Maybe he's secretly unsatisfied with your relationship. Maybe there was something you did to upset him that you were unaware of. Just questions, questions, and more questions.
Despite quickly becoming his closest confidant since you've met him at the Caldura, it still feels like there's an air of mystery around Lance. He keeps his cards close to his chest, most likely for your own good. He lives a life of danger, and he doesn't want you in the crosshairs. But truly, you don't care. You're hopelessly in love with him. You'd rather dive head first into his life and be beside him, no matter where he stands. Besides, it's not like you're a stranger to the perils of adventuring yourself.
Your thoughts race fast as ever, and before you can go down another mental tangent, he does as he always does and brings you back to earth. "Of course. You have my word." He places his hand to your face and strokes your cheek with his thumb. "Ask away.” A weak smile forms on his face in an attempt to encourage you. "Are you...happy with me?" you feel your shoulders tense at your own question. He looks at you incredulously, mouth open, prepared to assure you, "You make me so happy, I mean i--" "It's...not that I don't believe you when you say that. In fact, I mean more like... are you s-satisfied with me?" you ask sheepishly. He furrows his eyebrows slightly, thinking of a way to ask you to clarify. "If you don't mean satisfied in happiness, what do you mean? Satisfied, in what way?" His question is earnest and borne from genuine curiosity, but it still makes you nervous to elaborate further. You fiddle with your fingers until you speak up once more.
"As in...sexually? I figure you enjoy it at least a little, otherwise I'd imagine you wouldn't be so eager to have sex with me as much as we do. But I have this feeling that maybe, you're holding back in some way? And if so, am I doing anything wrong?" You scan for answers within his purple eyes, but before long you're distracted by the way his face is illuminated by the dim lamplight. He truly is a beautiful man. If it weren't for the way you stare at him admiringly, you wouldn't have noticed the flush form over his tan skin. "N-no. I promise you, you have done nothing wrong. You are such a light in my life and I never want to take what we have for granted." He reaches to grab both of your hands and cups them between his own. "It's just — I have…rather-" Uncharacteristically, he stumbles over his words. It's your turn to reassure him now. You bring his hands to your cheek, your hands still cupped within his. "You can tell me."
He folds at your sincerity. "Well, sex with you is...fantastic. Truly." he states as the flush on his face deepens. "It might be selfish of me, but I love that there is a side of you only I can bring out. A part of you that is mine and mine alone." He looks into the distance, smiling lightly at memories of your earlier trysts. His words trail for a moment as he tries to collect his thoughts until you bring him back to focus.
"But...?" you gesture. He sighs deeply then continues your train of thought, "But there is... something. It's not dissatisfaction; not at all. It's more like... restraint." "Restraint?" You issue back.
He adjusts himself to sit upright against the headrest of the bed. "I've always been warned to be aware of my strength in my training. Whether it be in magic or in combat... Control is key. Otherwise you risk unnecessary danger. It's an ingrained rule when you're a member of the First Slash." His eyes dart towards to you, gauging whether or not you understand where the conversation leads. You shift yourself up to match his position against the headrest and look back at him curiously, which prompts him to continue.
"When I'm with you, I feel myself losing that control. I feel this need to completely... consume you. I don't want to hurt you or be selfish in any way. I hoped it wouldn't be so obvious, but I should know better than to think anything gets past you." He huffs a breathy laugh and gently places a comforting hand upon your thigh. You take a moment to take in his words before feeling profound sense of relief. You're relieved that his restraint isn't from something wrong you're doing, rather, it's about what you're doing right.
"So, what you're saying is...I didn't do anything to bother you then?" you ask, looking for confirmation. "No, far from it. Simply put, you drive me crazy in the best of ways." He lets out a light laugh to conceal a relieved sigh; as if a weight has been lifted from his admission. "Simply put, you want to go rougher on me? Is that it?" you retort back cheekily, mimicking his earlier tone. He laughs a bit louder this time, his thumb gently traces up and down movements against your thigh. In a teasing tone, you press him further on the matter, "Hmmm, I'll take your silence as a 'yes', then." You enjoy playfully pushing his buttons from time to time, but you genuinely to know what's on his mind. The flush on his face returns when he gives you a simple nod. A bashful Lance is a rare sight, so you can't help but grin at how coy he's being.
Clearing his throat to continue, "That being said, I don't want to hurt you. Ever. I don't think I would, but I-" "Let's do it, I know you won't hurt me," you say while interrupting his train of thought. Your eagerness causes his eyes to widen, slightly moving his hands to cover his erection that grows from your words. You're usually the one to be flustered by his brazenness, so you take much satisfaction at how the tables have turned this time. Your agreement clearly has him a little riled up, but he's doing as you observed again: he's eager but hesitant. You move yourself closer into him, prodding him to make a move. Swallowing thickly, he clears his throat to finish his thought, "I just... wonder if maybe I do lose control, I'll reveal a side of me that you're not familiar with. I don't... want to show you a side of me you didn't sign up for." His smile is a little more nervous now, but as he tries to avert his face from yours, you catch his chin and face him towards you. You drop your teasing tone and look into his eyes; you need him to know you mean what you’re about to say wholeheartedly. “Lance, you don't need to hold back from me. I've signed up for all of you. I mean it."
For a moment he just stares at you with the utmost love and admiration. He thinks himself to be one of the luckiest people in the world, lucky enough to have the privilege of loving someone entirely and have that love be returned. This admiration of you slowly turns into desire as he takes in the weight of your words. "All of me, hm?" He slyly retorts with a hum and half-lidded eyes. Staring at your lips, he leans in for a kiss. You press back at him, mouth open to take his bottom lip lightly within your teeth. The delicious sting on his lips causes him to moan into your mouth. His hands trail down your arms toward your waist, pulling you closer to meet the warmth of his chest.
Everything about him is intoxicating to you. The rumble of his voice, the smell of cedar and incense on his clothes, his familiar touch are all equal parts comforting as they are arousing. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss before pulling away. Looking into his eyes once more, forehead pressed to his, you give him an answer that quells his fears, "Yes. All of you."
The night's anxieties slowly dissipate with every touch you lay on each other. Both of your hands desperately trail each other's bodies; desperate to unearth any secrets left between you. Lance finds grip upon your waist to move you on top of him and you eagerly oblige. Your chest presses against his while you savor the taste of his lips, straddling the already-hard bulge beneath you. Every dive into each other's lips grinds you ever so slightly against his clothed cock, causing him to furrow his eyebrows and moan into your mouth. His moans are like an invitation for you to continue, the kind of invitation you’d never refuse. You grind your hips against his length, wetness from both your slick and his precum seeping through the clothes that separate you. In this moment, you could swear he’s Yoba themself by the way you pant and moan his name over and over again like a prayer. The friction of your dripping pussy rubbing his cock is so deliciously arousing, you nearly get lost in the feeling. But while you're in your lustful daze, Lance swiftly rolls your onto your back to assume his position over you.
His sapphire eyes now stare directly into yours, but this time they're darker. Almost wild, like an animal in heat. The sheer look of complete desire in his eyes causes you to bite your lip in excitement. He stands over you, breathing heavily. There’s that hesitation again, you think to yourself. You can just barely see him ease out of his intense gaze, only for a moment to gain enough composure. "By the gods, you're driving me crazy. Are you sure absolutely sure about this? You must tell me if I'm going too far," he says through ragged breath. You prop yourself up by the elbows to land a kiss on his lips again. "I will tell you if you're going too far. But I know you won't hurt me, I trust you."
You lean yourself flat against the bed once more and you unbutton the top of your blouse, revealing the lacy bra that's hidden beneath. You return a similar gaze back at him, staring intensely into his eyes, hoping to reignite the fire within them. His heart is beating out of his chest and he swears you can hear it, based on how your breathing is perfectly in rhythm to his. You desperately want make every part of him yours, and all of you, his. And your body responds to this want before your brain could keep up. Like a primal need that came to the surface, you instinctively press the front of your wrists together and obediently offer them towards him. “I want all of you, Lance. Make me yours."
This was the coup de grace; the spell that lifted the seal on whatever was left of his self-control. With one hand, he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head. The other holds your face in place for him to land a devastating kiss, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth. The intensity of his movements makes your skin tingle, sensitive to every touch. His weight above you is both comforting and restraining; he’s holding you down as if you’d float away the moment he lets go. Kissing you like he wants to devour you whole, sucking the air out of your lungs until you’re lightheaded under him. You’re already so love drunk that your eyes close, allowing you to sink into the pleasure. Suddenly he pulls away to cusp your face again as a way to grab your attention. “No, no, look at me. Keep your eyes on me.” His sudden movements shock your eyes wide open to meet that same, animalistic gaze. He wants you so badly, there’s no doubt in your mind. The thought makes you smile at him, catching your bottom lip with your teeth.
He takes deep satisfaction in the shift in your facial expression. “You’re so perfect. So good to me,” he says with a mixture of pure love and pure lust in his tone. His speech is low and drawn out now, still holding your face in his free hand. “So good. So obedient.” He frees your wrists and slowly trails your neck with his mouth, leaving marks wherever visible, hoping to deliver on his promise of claiming you as his. His prize, his woman, his pretty little slut, and his wife if you let him.
He continues to plant spots of red across your chest until he’s stopped by the collar of your shirt, slightly unbuttoned from your earlier display. He claws at the buttons frantically to get it off of you as soon as possible. His movements are uncharacteristically imprecise, so much to the point he resorts to ripping the buttons off in his fervor. You’ll have to worry about your shirt later, but for now, you’re much too aroused by his desperation to care. You help him unhook the clasps of your bra and he discards it behind him. Finally, your breasts were freed and his for the taking.
Without hesitation, he grasps both of your breasts in each of his hands, grazing his thumbs over the sensitive peaks. You throw your head back and whine from the sudden stimulation only to be put over the edge by the sensation of his mouth lightly biting at your nipple. His tongue flicks and circles at your bud erratically. The sensation sends jolts through your body causing you to instinctually pull away. Before you can move, he catches you by your shoulder and holds you in place. “L-Lance,” his name escapes your mouth in an elongated moan as you’re overwhelmed by his tongue. “Stay put for me, love. Can’t let you get away.” He turns his attention to you other breast, licking and sucking on the bud while gently pinching the other with his thumb and index.
He only pulls away to free himself from his uniform. With a swift tug, he removes his top to reveal his muscular body. His skin looks beautiful in this light, smooth but adorned by light scars from his years of combat. You let out a deep sigh from the sight; it feels like you’re seeing him naked for the first time. You’ve seen it so many times before, but tonight his body was so painfully, incredibly sexy to you.
He isn’t faring so well himself. The act of taking his shirt off gave him just enough distance to soak in the full sight of you. Already with a lust-struck expression, huffing and panting from just teasing you, covered in marks he just freshly laid upon you. This sight alone is enough to make him nearly feral, he practically has to fight for his life to not immediately shove his throbbing cock deep inside you. He’s holding back, but not from fear this time. His concealed fantasies cloud his mind; the thought of ruining you, plowing into you so hard that his cock is the only thing you remember, and filling your perfect cunt to the brim with his seed. He’s determined to bring the love of his life down to the same level of depravity he secretly harbored since the day he first met you, and to do that, he needed to be patient. Even if his cock is begging to be buried to the hilt inside you.
Suddenly, he’s acutely aware of how tight his pants have become and decides to discard them as well. You watch as he hurriedly pulls the fabric past his ankles, instantly locked to his handsome form. Your eyes follow his V-Line to the clear outline of his fat cock, bulging through his boxers already soaked in precum.
Just as quickly as he dispatched of your shirt, he pulls off your jeans and throws them to join the rest of your clothes on the floor. You shudder at the cool draft of the room on your exposed thighs, emphasizing the mess of slick drenching your underwear. You've been naked around him countless times before, but the way he eyes you up and down makes you feel more than desired by him; it feels like you're the object of his obsession. His angel's pretty pussy is ready and drenched in front of him, lewdly displayed and eager to be fucked. If only you knew how badly he wants to ruin you in this moment.
He leans forward to match his face to yours, his tongue grazing his teeth looking at you with a cocky smile. "Look at you. Do you know how wet you are?" he questions almost condescendingly. Before you can respond, he quickly sneaks his hand under your panties and drags two fingers across your cunt, picking up your wetness to show you. "See? So wet for me and we've only just started." His touch makes you convulse and whine his name, like you're begging him to give you more. He knows you need him so badly, and your cunt is already so wet he could slide his fat cock into you with ease. But he as other plans. Just a little more, he thinks to himself. Just a little more.
"You want me, darling? Do you want me to make you feel good?" He says as he licks his fingers clean, feeling a high from your taste. Something about his teasing attitude and his refusal to give into your usual tells has you at your limit. You place your hands gently on his face with a pleading look in your eyes. "Please, Lance," you beg through ragged breathe. "I need you so bad. I'll be good, just-- Please, fuck me."
He has you right where he wants you. He has you feeling as hungry and desperate as he is whenever you're alone together. He stares right into your soul, like he's hypnotizing you to do his bidding. "Show me, then. Be good for me and get on your knees." Without hesitation, you drop yourself to the stone floor, knelt in front of him as he sits on the edge of his bed. You're obedient, waiting for his next command because you'd do anything to have your sweet release. You'd do anything satisfy the deepest parts of him. With a smile, he plants a kiss on your forehead as a reward for your compliance.
"Good, now take them off," he orders as he gestures to his boxers. He lifts himself to give you room to take his boxers off and you pull them in one quick movement. His cock springs free upon its release and gently smacks against your face, smearing precum against your forehead. In this position, you realize how big he really is. So girthy and long; it's no wonder why he makes you feel full to the brim when he's inside you. The weight of his erection resting on your face is oh so tempting, you just have to take a taste. You drag your tongue against his balls all the way to his wetted tip. Lance throws his head back, leaning on his arms to ground himself from the earth-shattering sensation you've provided him.
To think, this man who's known for his well-studied vocabulary is now whispering profanities under his breath. "F-fuck, not too h-hasty, hm?" He feigns confidence even though his stutter reveals how truly whipped he is by you. You know you could make him fold to your whim if you kept going despite his attempts to slow you down, but tonight, you want him to have you exactly as he wants to. So you pout up at him, looking almost apologetic for your impatience. Once he regains his composure, he grabs the base of his cock and presses it further onto your face. "Let me see your tongue, darling. Stick it out for me."
You stick your tongue out close enough to his leaking cock that you can basically feel the heat radiating off him. And without warning, he slaps his cock several times on your tongue before easing it into your mouth to the back of your throat, coating it with his precum. The speed in which his girth fills your mouth takes you by surprise, so much so you almost pull away but Lance's large palms cradle the back of your head, preventing your escape. The feeling of his fat cock in the back of your throat borders on uncomfortable, but the feeling of his shape clearly articulated in your mouth makes your pussy leak onto the floor. He holds you there until tears well in your eyes and quickly pulls away when he notices them falling onto your cheek. For a moment, he looks down at you with panic, wondering if he had gone too far. He'd feel so guilty if you hated this, and feels even more guilty that he finds your tear and saliva covered face so frustratingly hot. But then you clear your throat and meet his gaze with grin plastered on your face, drool still dripping from your lips. "You like it when I choke on it, hm?" you say in a slur of words, already cum drunk. He looks back at you, returning your grin and lets out a shallow laugh.
You stick your tongue out again, ready for more. As he buries his cock into your throat, he's completely overwhelmed by the warmth of your mouth and your unabashed acceptance of him. He's so grateful to see you smile at his roughness and he's prepared to reward you in kind. His pace is slow at first, pulling out until your lips meet the base of the head, just to shove it deeply to where it belongs. He only starts to speed up when you grip the back of his thigh with one hand, the other gently massaging his balls. The sensation of it is all too much to bear; the shallow fucks into your throat nearly makes him cry from pleasure. If he were to look at you now, watching you take the whole of his length through your pretty lips, he knew it'd be over for him. As a renown warrior, his endurance would usually easily outmatch any opponent, but right now, he could burst in your mouth right this instant and coat your throat in white. He grits his teeth and groans your name with every thrust, just barely holding onto his bearings. He could probably die happy if he were to force his load down your throat right now, but he realizes there are much better places inside you for his seed to go.
He was dangerously close when he pulls out of your mouth. A string of saliva still connecting your mouth to his cock. Sweat dripping off his brow to land on your face beneath him. Only now does he notice your absolutely fucked out expression. Your eyes are half-lidded, high off of his scent and taste. The grip of his hand on your hair tugged on a primal need you didn't know you had. All the while, you rubbed circles around your clit so rapidly that it left a puddle on the floor. To Lance, this scene was a work of art; he had to pause to take in every detail so he could replay this moment for the rest of his life.
Taking your cheeks in his hands, he pulls your face into a deep kiss. "You're...so beautiful," he breathily praises you against your lips. "You've proven yourself to me. Now, let me be good to you." You can barely speak in your aroused state, all you can muster is a weak nod and a "Yes, please." You surrender yourself into his arms as he lifts you to lay you back on the bed, spreading your legs to position himself in between. For a second, he looks down at how completely soaked your panties are — how they stick to the skin of your cunt so perfectly that he can make out its entire shape through them. Pulling the cloth to the side, he slaps his cock against your puffy clit, causing the both of you to whine and groan in unison. He stands at the threshold, on the precipice of completely entering you. You think he’s teasing you by the way he rubs his cock on your slit, but really, he’s teasing himself. You’ve given him something valuable today; an unrestricted exploration of his deepest fantasy with you. The night feels like it lasted an eternity and matter of seconds at the same time. How could his fantasies be happening so quickly? He prods at your entrance, hoping to prolong the experience. You can tell his own patience has reached its end by the way his face unabashedly scrunches in desperation. This is the moment you've both been waiting for all evening, ready to face your absolute high. "Are you ready, my love?" he asks while licking his lips. You nod enthusiastically and beg, "Yes, Lance. Please. Please, fuuc-"
Before you can get the words out, he grabs the fat of your thighs and quickly slams his cock into your tight hole until it hits the deepest part of you. Waves of complete and utter pleasure wash over you, causing you to arch your back and roll your eyes to the back of your head. Your mouth opens to whine but his size knocked the wind out of you. Just seconds ago you were empty, waiting eagerly for his touch and now you are filled entirely by him. He rests himself inside your convulsing pussy, already milking him dry despite the fact neither of you are moving. You’re too overwhelmed by his intrusion to notice there’s tears running down Lance’s face. All the years of experience under his belt go to shit the moment he enters you, and suddenly it’s as if he’s a virgin again. He’s just so goddamn in love with you, he needs to bury himself deep enough inside you so you understand how much you mean to him. He needs to fuck every doubt that you’re not perfect for him out of your mind. He remembers what you said earlier, and decides he wants to do the same. Tonight he’ll have all of you.
Right from the start, his pace is punishingly fast. His little game of teasing you has long been over and now he's ready to fully consume you. Sounds of sex fill around the room — the slamming of his thighs against your ass as he plows balls deep into your cunt over and over again. The squeak of his bed threatening to give way at the tenacious rhythm of his thrusts. The sound of your leaking pussy making a mess of the sheets below you. The lewdness of it all rings so deeply in his ears that he, himself, can’t contain his grunts. Nothing else in the world matters except his angel beneath him, screaming his name as he fucks her to ecstasy.
The sight of you now is more alluring than anything he could have imagined. He watches the way your pretty cunt obediently takes every inch of his cock as it disappears inside you. You’re covered in marks he left on your body, your tits violently bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts, and to top it off, you’ve been whimpering his name nonstop since he plunged inside you. He loves the way he completely occupies your mind now — a physical confirmation that right now you’re his alone. All of this is deliciously perfect, so he knows it’s greedy of him to want more, but he can’t stop. He can’t stop until you’ve creamed on his cock. Not until you’ve taken every drop of his cum inside you.
He pounds into you again, again and again, relentlessly until he feels your cunt clench tighter around him. You can’t think straight, not when he bullies himself against your cervix like this. Your convulsions are a dead giveaway you’re close and he’s determined to shake you to your core. His pace not letting up, he uses one hand to rub quick, circular motions against your clit while the other has a bruising grip on your waist. “Come on love,” he coaxes you with ragged breath, “Cum for me. Cum on my cock… you’re so fucking tight, please-“ and finally, sweet release. Your back arches again as you feel yourself reaching your peak, tears rolling out of your eyes. He slows his pace to fuck you through your high, almost pulling out fully before thrusting deep strokes into all the spots that make you burst.
He stays inside you as you come down from your orgasm, leaning forward to wipe the tears from your face tenderly. “You’re so beautiful, darling. Hold on just a little more for me, okay?” he says softly, “Just. A little. More.” thrusting in between each word. It’s still not enough for him but he’s oh so close. Leaning himself upward again, he grabs your wrists in each of his hands to pull you deeper onto his cock. Ignoring the fact you just came and resuming his tempo. Your pussy is just too good for him to stop now, he still has to reward you for obedience today.
And reward you he shall. Like a good slut, your cunt squeezes and pulls him back in, pulling him closer and closer to his limit. Closer to claiming you, closer to marking your insides with his cum and making you his little wife. Your glazed over, fucked out eyes meet his as pounds your messy cunt harder and harder. He can hardly make out your ramblings over the sound of his body pounding into yours, but when your words finally register, it sends him over the edge. “I love you so much. It’s s-so fucking good. It’s too fucking good” you mumble shakily. Everything about your demeanor screams for him to impregnate you, to fill you your grateful pussy to the brim until it drips out of you. His movements are getting sloppy now, fucking as deep as your cunt will let him. The relentless pounding sends you back into a frenzy, as if your first orgasm prolonged itself enough to reach another high.
He’s absolutely about to burst from the way your pussy clenches around him again. But before he does, he pulls you forward by your wrists so you have a perfect vantage point of where your two bodies connect, watching how his length disappears into you. “Look a-at us. Look how you well you take it for me. Now take all of me, okay? I’m gonna…fucking…fill y-“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence before he bullies fat cock the back of your cunt and spilling his seed right against your cervix. His words are caught in his mouth from the immense pleasure; all he can stifle are loud groans and some semblances of your name in gravelly whispers. Warm semen filling your spasming cunt, shoving his cock in small rocks of his hips as if to prevent any of his seed from escaping. He releases his grip on your wrists to collapse on top of you, lying flush against your body, still spilling spurts of white into you.
You wrap your arms around him to pull him closer and rub circles on his back. Both of you are panting messes from the night’s intensity, but the afterglow makes it so worth it. He coils an arm around your back and nestles his face into the crook of you neck. Only then is he able to speak breathily against your skin, “I…love you…more than you can ever imagine.” Your eyes dampen at his sincerity and you whisper I love you’s while running soothing fingers through his red hair. For a moment the world is completely silenced — only the sound of your tired voices occupy the spaces in your mind. In this space, only you and Lance matter.
Once he finds the strength, he pulls himself up only enough to bring your face into view. “Thank you. For accepting me, for giving me something to call home,” he says as he presses a kiss to your forehead. You take his face in your hands and press your lips to his, hoping your gratitude can reach him through your action. Because truly, you are grateful. So grateful to have met someone who encourages your ambitions unapologetically. Someone who never aims to control you but support you when you need it. Someone who loves and sees you first. You’re so overwhelmed by gratitude, you nearly cry into his arms.
You’re comforted by his familiar touch, stroking the side of your shoulder with his thumb. This moment is both so incredibly special and completely ordinary at the same time. Because this is how you always feel around him, so special, so full of love. You didn’t flinch once at Lance’s words before the night’s activities started, not at all, because that feeling of wanting consume him is all too familiar to you. If he’d let you, you’d have him for the rest of your life. With a smile, you hum into his ear before you whisper, “Thank you for being mine, thank you for everything.”
He replies with a simple word, but you hang onto its weight like a promise, “Always.”
I hope you're proud of me, Grandpa! 😔
(Finally! I finished the Mastery Cave. I find it hilarious that I still haven't finish Perfection but I finish this one. Need to complete the Monster Slayer one.)
Ahhhhh OMG! Thank you for answering my ask. I love it! 😍💕💖❤️✨
Heeey mousey! (◕ᴗ◕✿) I just have a random idea.
How would the adventurers, mages, or even their spouses react to the Farmer, who used to be a former assassin from a powerful mafia? Their parents used to work in the mafia as a powerful duo couple, but they had to resign for their family. However, the mafia didn’t like it and they killed the parents. Then, the mafia gave the Farmer a choice – either they join or else the mafia would kill their siblings. As the eldest, the Farmer had to join to protect their family. Years have passed since then. The Farmer has grown stronger and smarter, and has now devised a plan to escape the mob and leave the country with their siblings. They now live in Stardew Valley, leaving their old life behind in hopes of starting anew.
Yeaaaah, I have these thoughts about it and I just imagine the Farmer, want to forget everything but random mafia people are appearing in the valley and they had no choice but to tell the truth.
Oh, another question with an interesting scenario 👀 It's actually pretty cool to think about how the residents of Castle Village will react to people, things, and events that came from big towns, like Zuzu City. Hope you don't mind if I make only mages and adventurers this time. Nice to see you again, btw, and thanks for the ask! 🫰💕
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Farmer thought Isaac would express his disgust after the truth, but to their surprise, the adventurer began to respect them. Taking on all the dirt and hatred to protect the people you care about isn't something everyone is capable of. He's not an idiot and knows perfectly well that circumstances forced them to be a member of a criminal organisation (but will definitely scold their late parents for their selfish act). Isaac has few connections, but if Farmer needs to protect their family - they can count on him. However, he still gave fair warning that if people call for a fair trial for all mafia members, Farmer must also be prepared to be held accountable, for justice is blind.
Magnus knew it all. Don't look at him like that, Farmer. He is a wizard after all, quite skilful too, and at the first meeting he honestly said that he saw their past and future arrival here. It's not Rasmodius' fault that Farmer didn't believe him then. But he doesn't blame his young friend/adept for the crimes they had to commit out of their own free will. Farmer is very brave, protecting their loved ones from bad people. Magnus will help Farmer if any of the mafia members come to the Valley to find them and their family members.
Camilla's shocked look might fool Farmer and others, but the witch already knew everything. The young, talented Farmer had come to the Stardew Valley with their siblings, become a protector of people from monsters, helping the Castle Village as well - of course Camilla, with her boundless curiosity, had dug into Farmer's past. Really sad, but she admires their willingness to protect and abilities. This could really come in handy for her... Ah, don't let Farmer's worry about the mafia, they're definitely not coming to the Valley. And the recent news of mafia members being arrested/murdered/missing has nothing to do with her*chuckle*.
Yoba have mercy... Farmer has had to face hardships since the childhood, with no way out to escape and save himself and his siblings... Alesia is shocked to realise just what kind of scum there are in the world, forcing a teenager to do their dirty work. The sniper has seen a lot of things, but something like this... She doesn't blame poor Farmer for having to pay for their parents' mistakes. If any of the bastards come to the Stardew Valley, Farmer can count on her bow. And if the law is still merciless to Farmer for their past, Alesia will at least help their family in any way she can.
Jadu is completely baffled and speechless. So much information piled on his head... Farmer is a... wanted criminal? But they were left with no choice. Was there really no other way to escape from mafia and save their loved ones? No, the young wizard doesn't judge them, he has no right to judge Farmer and their unfortunate situation. He knows that Farmer's have grown up pretty quickly and now live in the Stardew Valley peacefully, away from those bad people. Just... if something happens, tell Jadu, okay? He'll try to help them and their siblings, not wanting to see his friend in trouble.
So that's what Farmer meant by telling Lance that they and their family came here "to escape their past"... He's genuinely sorry that his dear friend and fellow adventurer had to deal with the mob out of choice. But also infinitely glad that they were able to finally break the chains and escape with the rest of their family. The galant adventurer doesn't judge them for their past, knowing full well that they were trying to survive and protect the people they holds dear. Lance doesn't visit the Stardew Valley that often, but if he spots someone suspicious, he will warn them and stop the criminal.
[This is a continuation for "Riddle Me This".]
Aleia: *crossing her arms and sitting back down on the couch with a huff* Anyway, speaking of mayo… I still don’t get why you refuse to acknowledge it as a good beverage.
Sebastian: *pauses mid-smirk, his grin fading as he stares at her, incredulous* You’re kidding me. We’re back to this?
Aleia: *nodding enthusiastically, leaning forward as if she’s about to give the speech of a lifetime* Listen, it’s creamy, it’s versatile, it has eggs for protein, and oil for energy! It’s basically a smoothie!
Sebastian: *groans loudly, dragging a hand down his face* Oh my gawd, please don’t call mayonnaise a smoothie.
Aleia: *completely ignoring him, gesturing animatedly* Think about it! If you mix it with a little lemon juice and maybe some herbs, boom! Gourmet drink! It could even be a café special, like 'Aleia’s Creamy Mayo Delight.'
Sebastian: *staring at her in sheer disbelief, slowly lowering himself into the chair, his head in his hands* Here we go again…
Aleia: *grinning now, clearly enjoying his misery* I mean, you’ve got people out there drinking celery juice and kale smoothies, but mayo gets slandered? Where’s the justice in that?
Sebastian: *looking up at her, deadpan* The justice is in basic human decency, Aleia. You can’t just go around advocating for mayonnaise as a drink. That’s not a personality trait; it’s a cry for help.
Aleia: *gasping dramatically, clutching her chest* A cry for help?! Wow, Sebby. That’s rich coming from someone who survives off coffee and instant noodles.
Sebastian: *crossing his arms, raising an eyebrow* Says the woman who drinks coffee like its water but coffee is a respectable beverage. Mayonnaise is... mayonnaise. It’s not even in the same league.
Aleia: *leaning forward, eyes glinting mischievously* Alright then, Mr. Respectable Beverage. How about a challenge? You try drinking mayo for a day, and I’ll-!
Sebastian: *cutting her off, holding up a hand* Absolutely not. I’d rather code for 24 hours straight than suffer through that nightmare.
Aleia: *pouting dramatically* Sebaaaastian, you’re no fun!
Sebastian: *smirking slightly, shaking his head* No, I’m just sane. There’s a difference.
Aleia: *grinning triumphantly* Fine. But one day, when mayo smoothies take the world by storm, you’ll be the one begging for forgiveness.
Sebastian: *snorts, leaning back in his chair* Yeah, sure. And when that happens, I’ll start calling you 'Chef Aleia, the Mayo Queen.'
Aleia: *smirking back, throwing another pillow at him* Deal! But don’t forget. Mayo is the future!
Sebastian: *catching the pillow and shaking his head, chuckling softly* And yet, somehow, I still love you.
Aleia: *grinning proudly* Of course you do. I’m adorable and revolutionary.
Sebastian: *sighing, resting his head in his hand* Adorable, yes. Revolutionary? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, sweetheart.
Aleia: *laughing* Mark my words, Sebby. Mayo. Smoothies. 2030. You’ll see."
Sebastian: *leaning back, groaning dramatically* Someone save me before this actually happens.
Love this mod's cutscene. I like how this mod mentions about some of the heart events. And here are some of the cutscenes of my Farmer Aleia with Sebastian.
Mod: "Maggs Immersive Sebastian Dialogue and Custom Events Spicy or Sweet" by MaggPlays
When your Farmer is in a loving relationship with a Vanilla NPC and then you noticed an attractive NPC from an expansion mod. Now I, as the player, have this dilemma about whether I should divorce my character's husband, sacrifice my children, wipe my husband's memory of our relationship and hook up with this fine specimen. (๑•﹏•)
Summary: Lance and Jio, complete opposites, find themselves bound by marriage into an unexpected family. Over drinks, they share stories of how their wives nearly killed them upon first meeting. What starts as mockery slowly turns into understanding, whether they like it or not, they’re brothers now.
A/N: I don’t know what came over me when I wrote this. Seriously. Lance and Jio in the same room, willingly? That’s basically a sign of the apocalypse. But somehow, these two disasters ended up as family, and now they have to deal with it. I imagine it’s as painful for them as it is entertaining for us. Anyway, enjoy the chaos!
The quiet hum of the evening settled over the valley, the golden hues of the sunset stretching long shadows over the land. The world seemed to breathe in this tranquil moment, the rustling of leaves filling the spaces between silence, the distant calls of nocturnal creatures stirring to life. Jio had always found solace in such stillness. It was in these quiet hours that he thrived, slipping into the unseen corners of the world where no one could reach him. Solitude had been both a shield and a weapon, a constant companion in a life built on shadows.
And yet, solitude was a fleeting luxury these days because a certain combat mage was here.
Jio had never been particularly fond of company, and the arrival of Lance into his life did little to change that. Unfortunately, life had its own plans. Whether he liked it or not, the man was now his brother-in-law. At first, their relationship could be described as awkward at best, tense at worst. It wasn’t that either of them had anything against the other, not exactly. But their lives had shifted in ways neither of them had anticipated.
For Jio, it was the fact that Lance, an outsider to the world he lived in, had been sharp enough to see right through him. That had been unsettling. The moment they first met, Jio had been cloaked in illusion, his elven heritage hidden beneath a spell designed to fool even the most skilled of magic users but it hadn’t fooled Lance. The adventurer had taken one look at him, his eyes shimmering with the unmistakable glint of understanding and smirked.
“You know.” Lance had said, arms folded across his chest, “It’s a good spell. Really well-crafted but I can see right through it.”
The ninja assassin had spent years perfecting his ability to go unnoticed, had barely resisted the urge to scowl. As for the mage, he had taken this as an invitation to start asking questions.
The elf had quickly learned that Lance was persistent, annoyingly so. He was not only intrigued by Jio’s lineage but also by his profession, while the Cult of the Lady with the Red Tail was shrouded in secrecy, whispers of their existence had reached the ears of adventurers, mages and guilds alike. Assassins, criminals, ghosts in the night, call them what you will but few truly understood the reality of their work.
Lance, being the ever-diplomatic combat mage that he was, approached Jio with an odd mixture of curiosity and caution. It wasn’t that he feared him, not exactly. But as a key figure in The First Slash Clan, he knew better than to trust blindly. Their interactions had remained strained for some time, both men studying each other like opposing chess pieces. Jio, introverted and secretive, had no interest in entertaining an inquisitive brother-in-law. Lance, on the other hand, saw the elfman as an enigma, one he was determined to unravel.
Which was exactly why they were here now, sitting across from one another in the dim glow of a quiet evening, caught in an unusual yet oddly comfortable silence.
It had started as an accident. Jio had been sharpening his katana in the courtyard when Lance had strolled in, carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses as if he owned the place.
“Mind if I join you?” he’d asked, already sitting down before Jio had the chance to refuse.
Jio sighed. “You already have.”
Lance chuckled, pouring the wine. “Figured it’s about time we had a real conversation, just the two of us.”
The ninja eyed him warily. “Is that so?”
“You’re my brother-in-law. Might as well get to know each other.” Lance leaned back, swirling the wine in his glass. His gaze flickered with something unreadable, amusement layered over a deeper sense of intrigue. “How long were you going to keep pretending to be human?”
Jio exhaled sharply through his nose. So this was where they were starting.
“I don’t know what you mean.” His voice was deliberately flat, dismissive, but he knew it would do little to deter Lance.
The man merely chuckled. “Oh, come on. You really think an illusion spell would fool me? I saw through that the first time we met.” He tilted his head, watching Jio carefully, as if waiting for him to confirm it.
Jio’s grip tightened slightly on the hilt of his katana, the weight of the blade a familiar comfort. Few had ever seen through his illusions so easily, let alone with such casual certainty. It was unsettling.
The mage sensing the tension, lifted a hand in mock surrender. “Relax. I don’t have a problem with elves.” His gaze darkened slightly, his voice losing its usual teasing tone. “Just surprised, is all. Your kind is supposed to be extinct. Imagine my shock when I find out my brother-in-law is walking proof that isn’t the case.”
Jio finally turned to look at him, studying him in silence. He could see the questions forming behind Lance’s eyes, an unspoken list of inquiries waiting to be voiced. He knew this conversation wouldn’t end here.
“I assume you have a dozen questions.”
Lance’s grin was immediate, almost triumphant. “At least a dozen but I doubt you’ll answer half of them.”
“You’re right.”
Rather than deterring him, the answer only seemed to amuse Lance further. He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as if unsurprised. The conversation lapsed into silence, the wind carrying the distant sounds of the forest. Jio was no stranger to tense silences, the kind thick with unspoken threats, the heavy anticipation of a fight waiting to break out. But this… this wasn’t quite like that. There was curiosity, certainly, but no hostility. And for all his persistence, Lance wasn’t pressing him, wasn’t demanding answers. He was simply there, waiting. Offering conversation as an invitation rather than an order.
Jio could appreciate that.
Lance shifted, glancing at him again. “Alright, let’s start simple.” His voice was light, but there was a knowing edge to it, as if he had already anticipated Jio’s reluctance. “How did you meet Cerise?”
Jio exhaled, reluctant but not entirely unwilling to answer. It was only fair, he supposed. They were bound by their relationships to the farm sisters, whether they liked it or not.
“She wandered into Ridge Forest,” he said at last. “Too close to the barrier.”
Lance hummed thoughtfully. “And?”
Jio’s gaze flickered toward the horizon, memories surfacing unbidden.
The night air in Ridge Forest was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, the hush of the wilderness disturbed only by the distant hoot of an owl. Jio moved soundlessly through the undergrowth, his senses sharp as he patrolled the forest’s edge. It was a quiet night, undisturbed by intruders until a flicker of movement caught his eye.
Someone was there.
A lone traveler, cloaked and hooded, moving steadily along the path. At a glance, she seemed unremarkable just another wanderer passing through the forest under the cover of night. Perhaps a lost adventurer, someone who had strayed too far from familiar roads. He had seen many like her before, drawn by the mystique of Ridge Forest without realizing its dangers.
With a quiet sigh, Jio stepped forward, letting his presence be known as he materialized before her in a blur of motion. His voice was calm, controlled. “You shouldn’t be here—!”
The dagger came fast.
Instinct flared, and Jio twisted just in time to avoid the blade as it whistled past his face, embedding itself in the bark of a tree behind him with a sharp thunk. The sheer force of the throw sent vibrations through the wood. A fraction slower and the blade would have found his skull instead.
His eyes widened slightly. Well. That would’ve been unpleasant.
Before he could react, the woman lunged.
Jio barely managed to block the incoming strike, catching her wrist before her fist could connect with his jaw. His grip tightened, and for the first time in a long while, he found himself genuinely surprised. This wasn’t a panicked traveler flailing in fear, this was an experienced fighter, attacking on pure instinct.
“Are you insane?” he snapped.
The woman halted, her posture shifting as she took in the situation. Her gaze flickered to the dagger buried deep in the tree, then back to him. With a quiet sigh, she relaxed her stance, rolling her shoulders back.
“That was a mistake.” Her voice was steady, unapologetic but not dismissive. “Didn’t expect someone to appear out of nowhere.”
Jio studied her for a moment before releasing his grip. “You nearly took my head off.” His tone was even, but there was a dry edge to it.
She huffed softly, rubbing her wrist where he had grabbed her. “If I meant to, I wouldn’t have missed.”
Jio’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a glint of something in his eyes, calculation, perhaps a hint of amusement. Now that he was this close, her hood had slipped slightly, revealing more of her face. His gaze flickered to her eyes, twilight-hued orbs with an amethyst glow, striking even in the dim moonlight. There was no hesitation in them, only sharp focus.
Long strands of beige-blond hair spilled from beneath the hood, brushing against her shoulders. She had the kind of beauty that was easy to overlook at a distance, but up close, it was impossible to ignore, the elegant lines of her face, the confidence in the way she carried herself. Something about her now felt off, as if he had gravely miscalculated her identity.
Recognition flickered in his mind. He had seen this resemblance before, faint but unmistakable.
“You must be the granddaughter.”
The woman blinked. “What?”
“The old farmer.” he clarified. “The one who passed years ago. You’re one of her granddaughters, aren’t you?”
Something unreadable passed across her face before she straightened, the tension in her shoulders still present but tempered.
“I’m Cerise.”
Jio regarded her for a long moment before giving a slight nod. “Jio.”
That night, suspicion had lingered between them like an unspoken challenge. The way she moved, the way she had thrown that dagger, it was clear she wasn’t just some ordinary farmer.
Jio exhaled, his voice barely above a murmur. “She nearly killed me.”
Lance barked out a laugh. “Sounds about right.”
Jio cast him a glare but said nothing. Silence stretched between them for a moment before he glanced at Lance. “And you? How did you meet Rosemary?”
Lance chuckled, setting his glass down. “Oh, our first meeting was… unexpected.”
Jio narrowed his eyes. “Go on.”
Lance leaned forward slightly. “I first met Rosemary at the summit of Mount Kohldur. She had just finished the climb, she looked exhausted but determined.”
The heat of the forge wrapped around Lance like an old friend, the rhythmic clang of metal against metal filling the cavernous chamber. Mount Kohldur’s peak was not for the weak, its treacherous ascent tested even the most hardened adventurers. And inside the volcano, the dangers only multiplied. Monsters lurked in the shadows, the air was thick with the scent of molten rock, and the forge itself pulsed with ancient power. But for those who made it this far, the rewards were unmatched.
Lance had spent the day deep in his craft, the magical flames casting golden light across his work. His hands moved with practiced ease, binding enchantments and forging weapons for his guildmates in The First Slash. The familiar surge of magic hummed through his fingertips as he combined an Iridium Band with a Slime Charmer Ring, the glow of the spell reflecting in his obsidian purple eyes.
He was just about to move on to his next project when the heavy gates of the forge groaned open. The sound reverberated through the chamber, followed by steady, measured footsteps.
Lance frowned. Few ever reached this place, and even fewer had the strength to push open those doors alone. He turned, expecting to see one of his guildmates or a battle-worn adventurer seeking the forge’s power.
Instead, what he saw made him pause.
A woman stood at the entrance, her silhouette framed by the golden glow of the magma pools beyond. Her breath was heavy from the climb, her rose-red hair windswept and untamed. Her clothes now dusted with soot and ash, and the edges of her short cloak were singed, faint wisps of smoke curling from the scorched threads. Her hand hovered near the weapon at her hip, her stance tense like she expected a fight at any moment.
But it wasn’t the battle-worn look that caught his attention. It was her eyes, a striking shade of ocean jade, sharp and wary, scanning the room for threats. And then, just as his gaze flickered over the soft dusting of freckles across her cheeks—
She threw a bomb at him.
Lance barely had time to react. Instinct took over as he flicked his wrist, summoning a protective barrier of shimmering blue light. The bomb struck the shield mid-air, detonating with a fiery burst. Sparks and embers scattered across the chamber, rattling the anvil behind him.
Smoke curled through the air. Silence followed. Then, from beyond the haze, a horrified voice.
“Oh my Yoba—”
Lance blinked as the woman stumbled forward, her wide eyes filled with mortification.
“I—I am so sorry!” she blurted out, hands shooting up in a panicked gesture. “I thought you were a monster! I didn’t—” She groaned, cutting herself off, visibly cringing as she realized what she had just done.
Lance exhaled, then let out a full, genuine laugh that echoed against the stone walls.
The woman froze, clearly thrown off by his reaction.
Grinning, Lance dusted soot from his cloak. “I’ve had a lot of things thrown at me in my lifetime,” he mused, his voice laced with amusement. “But I have to say, this is the first time someone’s greeted me with explosives.”
She let out a strangled groan, pressing her hands to her face. “I swear, I’m not usually this trigger-happy.”
Lance smirked, folding his arms. “No?” He arched a brow. “So, you don’t always attack strangers on sight?”
Dragging a hand down her face, she muttered, “I just—didn’t expect anyone else to be up here. I panicked, okay?”
Lance chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I suppose I should be honored to have made such an impression.”
She mumbled something under her breath, then straightened, clearing her throat. “Right. Uh. I’m Rosemary.”
Lance’s lips quirked into a knowing smirk. “I know.” At her startled look, he inclined his head. “Marlon spoke quite highly of you, said you were quite proficient with a weapon.” His gaze flickered to the spot where the bomb had nearly incinerated him, amusement dancing in his obsidian-purple eyes. “I see now that he wasn’t exaggerating.”
Rosemary groaned, muttering something about terrible first impressions under her breath.
Lance let out a light chuckle before offering a more formal introduction. “I’m Lance, from The First Slash Clan. We’re a guild of adventurers protecting the Fern Islands.” He studied her for a moment, curiosity flickering in his expression. “Though I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to meet you under such… explosive circumstances.”
For a moment, they stood there, the tension easing as the embers from the explosion slowly faded into the ever-burning flames of the forge.
Jio, who had been listening with his usual unreadable patience, exhaled slowly and took a deliberate sip of his wine. His forest green eyes studied Lance with a look so measured it bordered on contemplative.
“So...” he finally said, swirling the wine in his glass, “She did try to kill you.”
Lance chuckles, tilting his head slightly. “You sound almost relieved.”
Jio huffed, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. “It just confirms my expectations.” He exhaled again, this time with something dangerously close to amusement curling at the edges of his voice. “Shame. She should’ve aimed better.”
The mage only let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You wound me, truly.”
Jio took another sip of wine, watching him over the rim of his glass. “Did you look like a monster?”
Lance placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “I’d like to think I looked fairly respectable that day.”
Jio didn’t bother hiding the way his lips twitched, but he said nothing.
Lance leaned back against the wooden pillar, stretching out his legs. “Lucky for me, I immediately conjure a barrier. Introduced myself after she throw that bomb.” His smirk softened as his mind drifted back. “She was flustered, obviously. But we ended up sharing a meal. Talking. Laughing.”
Jio shook his head, muttering, “Your wife nearly blew you up.”
Lance arched a brow. “Yours nearly stabbed you through the skull.”
“Fair...”
A pause. Then for the first time all night, the silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was something else, something easier. Lance tilted his head back, gazing at the night sky. The stars stretched above them, shimmering like diamonds scattered across an endless sea of black. He exhaled slowly, then spoke again, this time without the usual teasing tone. Just honesty.
“You know… I may be nosy, but it’s not just about curiosity.” He turned his head, meeting Jio’s gaze with quiet certainty. “Cerise is important to you. Rosemary is important to me. So, like it or not… we’re family now.”
Jio studied him for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then, finally, he inclined his head slightly. “I know...”
Lance smirked, the easy confidence returning to his voice. “And since we’re family, I reserve the right to continue annoying you for the foreseeable future.”
Jio sighed, finishing the rest of his wine. “I should’ve let Cerise’s dagger hit me.”
Lance barked out a laugh, the sound rich with amusement. “Too late for regrets now, brother.”
Jio didn’t respond, but there, right at the corner of his mouth was the ghost of a amusement before he turned away and just like that, something shifted between them.
No longer just two men forced together by circumstance, but family. And despite all the chaos that came with it, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
As the night stretched on and the distant hum of the valley settled around them, they sat in companionable silence, bound by an unspoken understanding.
Both of them had married dangerous women and neither would have it any other way.
Bruh! Its a cat?! *looks at the picture on wiki* Are my eyes deceiving me!? Me and my blind eyes! I thought its a teddy bear but when I look at the picture on the SDV wiki it doesn't have whiskers. Yeah, it looks like a cat but I swear it looks like a freaking teddy bear or maybe its the ears. 😂😵
A random thought, you remember the achievement when we get the Statue of Perfection or Statue of True Perfection. Everyday we received iridium ore or random items, then how will the SDV/SVE Bachelors, (can you add the adventurers and mages) gonna react to this huge looking (gold/iridium) teddy bear appear in the farm and everyday a random item pops out.
(I mean I would find it weird and intriguing, that I woke up the next day just to see a huge looking teddy bear appeared on my spouse's arms.)
...A teddy bear?
*looking at a picture on the SDV wiki*
It's a cat, isn't it? I always thought it was a cat. *Looking again* Although the ears are a little round, it does looks like a bear. Kinda...
Anyway, good to see you in my askbox again! Enjoy some headcanons 💕 And I'm interested to hear from others, who do you see in these statues, the bear or the cat?
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SDV bachelors react to Statue of Perfection/True Perfection:
...Was there some kind of strange fashion for huge jewelled statues or something? It wasn't enough for Shane to find a gold statue of Lewis in Marnie's room (of course, she refused to say how it got there in the first place), but now Farmer had one. Well, at least Shane's spouse had chosen a cute animal instead of one with the hideous mayor's face on it. "Why?" "That statue gives us ore every day." "...So you can do nothing and you'll make a profit. Wow, that's handy stuff." A useful statue and a nice looking one, so Shane didn't mind.
Imagining the life of a rich and famous athlete, which Alex aspired to, he still didn't understand some of the oddities of people living in luxury. For example, the habit of ordering gold statues with encrusted gems. Alex's spouse had received a statue of Perfection as a reward for their deeds, but those who just bought them and tried to pass them off as some kind of achievement? Weird. They usually also ugly looking, not like Farmer's statue that looks like a bear, or maybe it's a cat, and... ??? Did the statue just give him a prismatic shard??????
"Darling, where did you get this?" "One statue was given to me by Grandpa. The other I got as a reward." Never before had Harvey seen statues as tall as himself made of pure iridium. The doctor hadn't paid much attention to it before, thinking they were just strange decorations made of inexpensive metal. But later, while rearranging the bedroom, Harvey began to scrutinise each of the statues. "Your Grandpa had unusual taste in furniture." "It's not about taste, it's about to get ore." And Farmer took the iridium ore and the prismatic shard from the two statues, leaving Harvey in complete shock.
To be honest, Sebastian was a little disappointed when Farmer told him that the Statue of Perfection wasn't some sort of totem for worshipping spirits or gods. Too bad, he was already prepared to listen with interest about how these statues were connected to all sorts of occult stuff, but alas. "Well, I wouldn't say the statues are simple, hon." When Sebby saw with his own eyes that these metal figures yielded ore, he opened his mouth in amazement. "Cool." Okay, now Sebastian was even more interested in how this magic statue worked.
Sam's been doting on the cute faces of the iridium statues for about half an hour now. "Heh, adorable. Where did you acquire that statue?" "Got it from Grandpa's Shrine." "...Huh? From where?" The young guitarist guessed that the statues were unusual, but he didn't realise that there was a whole adventure story behind them with all the weirdness. "And one of the conditions of getting statue was to pet your dog?" "Yeah! Well, I'd pet the dog anyway because I love our dog, statue or not, but yeah." Sam doesn't understand anything, but he's still interested! Like wow, cool magic statue!
When Elliott was touring for his book signings, he managed to visit several museums in Zuzu City that were full of similarly unusual statues and figures. At least the statues his spouse purchased weren't the spawn of nightmares (Elliott doesn't judge art, but he certainly wouldn't want those decorations in his home). "They're not just cute, dear" When one of the statues produced a prismatic shard, the writer was speechless. But then he had an idea... "The hero went on an adventure in search of a statue of eternal wealth... Not a bad plot for a novel, don't you think?"
SVE bachelors react to Statue of Perfection/True Perfection:
Magnus can't believe his own eyes. "This is an endless source of iridium ore - a dream for treasure seekers, and a topic of discussion among mages and witches as to the origin of this relic. But also the cause of death for many, ruined by their own greed and envy." The wizard hopes that his spouse will not meet the same fate. He also tries to restrain himself from the urge to study the Statue of Perfection by being cautious. Magnus knows that Farmer's intentions are pure, and they have earned such a reward through hard work, but just in case.
"You definitely had to go through many trials and do incredible things to obtain such a treasure, my dear. A worthy reward for someone like you." Lance knows very well that even the richest person in the world cannot afford such a magical statue, it only has to be earned. And his dear spouse has earned not one, but two whole statues. Lance knows how these statues work, so not surprised about that. But the pink-haired man is more interested in the exact merits for which Farmer was so honoured. Lance wouldn't mind hearing their story over a glass of wine.
Oh, it's.... the Statue of Perfection! It's real! What? Of course Victor knows about it! Well, not that he knows for sure, but he's read books about various artifacts and relics that were covered in mysteries. The books themselves were written by adventurers, and there were at least a few mentions of a legendary Statue of Perfection that would bring the owner happiness and wealth. Or something like that. But now Victor's spouse has been given a true legend for their hard work! It's impressive, and he is very proud of Farmer!
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Bonus reaction from non-marriage SVE adventurers/mages:
"What do we have here~ Sweetie, you have no idea what powerful magic these statues contain." It wasn't even the fact that the two pure iridium statues yielded ore and a prismatic shard every day that interested Camilla. The Castle Village witch believes there is something else stored inside, something that would be good to study. Wealth doesn't interest her, but potential magic does.... "I wonder how the Farmer got such a treasure, hmm? You'll tell your friend Camilla, right?
The first time Alesia saw the statues of Perfection, she thought Farmer worshipped some kind of animal spirits. She herself is an Yoba worshipper, but has no dislike for other beliefs. "If this is not totem, then what?" From the information she's received about the statue, the sniper is silent from shock for a few seconds, then says, "According to the legends, people, blended with greed, killed each other to get their hands on these relics. Do not repeat their fate, young adventurer. And be careful who you share this information with." Alesia hoped Farmer wouldn't get themself into trouble...
Jadu is going to faint with happiness. These are the same statues of Perfection that wizards and adventurers have been searching for for centuries! The metal artifacts made of pure iridium simply radiate magic! They have a rather lovely appearance, the wizard should note, very cute.... But he's distracted! Jadu almost begs Farmer to let him study them. Like Camilla, he's interested in the knowledge hidden in the statues, not the iridium ore itself.
Are these THE statues of Perfection that half of all adventurers and wizards would kill themselves over? Pfft, it looked like some cheap obscure bear-faced thing. Isaac is not impressed. And the presence of ore in the statue didn't surprise him much either ("I've seen stranger things"). Still, the grumpy adventurer will not deny the fact that Farmer has achieved this, albeit silly-looking, reward by hard work. So they're worth something. Maybe Farmer is not as hopeless as Isaac previously thought. ("Thanks Isaac. I guess...").
Sebastian and Aleia's relationship blossomed throughout the changing seasons in the valley. Their first meeting, unexpected and almost comical, left Sebastian worried about making a bad impression. However, Aleia's persistent efforts to spend time with him slowly erased his doubts. As they got to know each other over the seasons, their bond deepened. In the verdant days of spring, they shared lighthearted moments and budding affection. As summer arrived, they spent more time together and grew closer, their bond strengthening under the warm sunshine. And as the leaves turned crisp and golden in the fall, their moments together became more intimate and their connection deepened with the shifting seasons. As the quiet, snowy winter enveloped the valley, they found solace and warmth in each other's company, their relationship reaching new heights of closeness and understanding. Through their shared experiences and the passage of time, Sebastian and Aleia came to realize that they were meant for each other, and ultimately, they decided to tie the knot, marking the culmination of their beautiful journey together.
(Ngl the wedding theme kinda looks like a dark fantasy fairytale and I freaking love it! 💜 The mod creator made such an awesome job on this new update. Very worth it.)
Mod: "Maggs Immersive Sebastian Dialogue and Custom Events Spicy or Sweet" by @maggplays
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