#Clive @ Take It Easy

[meteorstricken]

So. Some things I haven't seen pointed out yet about Clive & Jill's Burnt Black and Snow White outfits...

Jill’s is essentially Fallen Ruins en Vogue.

And then we have Clive...who is sporting a figure that looks like Ultimalius' crown on his thigh.

Joshua's Ashen Gray outfit contains a symbol or crest of sorts on the opposite thigh, but only appears to be relative to the Phoenix. If I had to hazard a guess, the opposite thighs probably points to the Mythos->Logos effect the two have when united.

[filosofablogger]

♫ Two Beautiful Songs ... Courtesy of Clive! ♫

Well, I seem to be rather lazy tonight!  I made Jolly & Joyful take over the Jolly Monday post, and now I’m turning the music post over to Clive!  But frankly, I couldn’t have played a song that would have topped the two very beautiful songs Clive played, and they just called out to be shared!  Thank you, Clive! SLS: Now The Day Bleeds

[transgenderbread]

just saw a video in which someone called the book/movie maruice a tragedy as if it wasn't specifically written to not be a tragedy..... you are Not Supposed to root for Clive

[mailmango]

One-on-One

Pairing: Professor Henry Cavill x Student Male Reader

Genre: Fluffy Smut, MDNI

Kinks/Warnings/Notes: AMAB Reader; Calling the reader a slut, a whore; Calling the reader a good boy, praise; Slapping and spanking; Age gap; Professor x Student

Length: 5.1k words, Fic

Synopsis: You're one of the lucky few to have ever experienced one of Professor Cavill's lectures. And you are the lucky, singular person to have ever experienced his heart-racing one-on-one session.

A/N: oml hiiii! If you're reading this, then thank you very much! this is my first time writing something over a thousand words (of my own volition) in probably 3 years at least! It's also my first time writing serious smut GAHAHAHAH I would appreciate feedback (totally optional), but most of all, hope you enjoy :D

Credits: @/aquazero for the divider and @/starboye for helping me with formatting and tagging!! ^-^

I picked this one just for you! I hope it’s sweet and juicy…

You’ve always liked your Ancient Mythologies Studies class. It was an easy A, one that came packaged with an interesting topic to boot. Who doesn’t want to hear of the religions and myths of civilizations from thousands and thousands of years ago?

The answer is most people. It was one of the smallest classes–even with a size cap of twenty, it had barely filled out ten slots. It seemed most people simply didn’t take interest in the subject. That meant that most people were poor, unfortunate people, because they didn’t have the pleasure of knowing Professor Cavill. 

Professor Cavill had worked at the university teaching their Ancient Mythologies Studies class for the past several years. He was a graduate of this school and, after having established himself as a prominent archaeologist, he opted to take time and teach a course for two sessions weekly. In his words he, “Wanted to help inspire any young people with a passion for learning about those that came before us.” 

You had found those words so, so interesting. But it was more so about the man saying them. 

Professor Cavill–Henry–was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his mid-forties. He was kind and considerate to each member of his class, treating them with a warmth and manner you’d read about in an overly unrealistic romance novel. And yet, he was very much real. You had class with him every Monday morning and Friday night. 

Classes which you would sit in, bouncing your leg and hiding a raging boner as you watched the man fiddle with and adjust his tie. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N, are you sure you’d rather not attend the festivities?” 

Ah, just your luck, wasn’t it? Your college had been holding a concert for a handful of its alumni to celebrate their band’s first national tour. The university had decided that, due to the band falling under the alternative genre, they would allow classes to continue should any students or staff be disinterested. 

It just so happened that, as much as you weren’t opposed to them, you also weren’t heavily inclined to actually attend their show. You had figured that at least one of your ten classmates would feel the same. 

Apparently not.

Hence, you now sat alone in a small lecture room, the chairs beside you empty as you stared at your beloved professor, Professor Cavill. 

“Ah, no, professor. Were you looking to attend?” 

“Myself? My personal taste doesn’t align with their music. As much as I love Clive-” 

Clive was the lead singer and, as you recall, one of Professor Cavill’s former students. 

“-we’ll be meeting for a congratulations dinner tomorrow evening. We’ve already discussed.”

He smiled, dimples forming, as he flipped open his files for the night’s lecture. 

Then he had to reach for his stupid tie. 

“Would you mind if I loosened my tie? I’ve been feeling warm as of earlier this evening.” 

His large, somewhat hairy hand was already holding the knot one either side. He did it often; you had come to suspect it was an unconscious habit at times. He would tug at his tie, calling attention to his strong chest or those bulging biceps…

Damn his stupid tie. Today, it was his blue tie, one you knew to be one of his favourites. He wore it at least thrice a month, most often during Friday sessions.

Every time he would touch it, toy with it, it sent shivers down your spine and blood straight to your cock. You almost weren’t sure if you hated or loved that he was almost never without one.

“Ah, not at all, Sir. Go ahead.” 

“Thank you, Y/N.”

God, your name sounded so good out of his mouth. He drew the syllables out, gave it this weight that you hadn’t heard your name spoken with before. You could get addicted to the way he had said it just now. You were tempted to find an excuse to have him say it again. 

That opportunity came as, for the first time, he pushed past absentminded tugs at his tie and now pulled the knot away from his chest. For the first time, you saw his neck without the tie drawing attention. It almost sounded manic to say but… the sight began to draw you in. 

And then he overshot it. The tie came off, knot still done, but it was completely removed now. He stared down at the cloth before using his free hand to undo it, leaving it nice and straight in his hand. 

“Do you mind if I forgo it?”

Eye contact. He made eye contact with those god damn near hypnotising eyes. They really were unique; the man had something called segmental heterochromia. He had mentioned it once before. It meant that his left iris, though mostly blue like his right, had a patch of brown in its upper half. 

It felt mystifying, like a siren whose song you couldn’t ignore. He continued to look at you, and without him breaking eye contact, you were hopelessly unable to do so yourself. Instead, you simply muttered a weak response. 

“Go ahead, Sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Class seemed to fly by. Your hand wrote on its own as your legs bounced, mind and senses completely and utterly hinged on the man’s every word and movement. Though he entranced you each time you sat in on his lectures, tonight was different. You had always blamed his tie. It’s the tie. The playing with the tie, his stature with it, that’s what you blamed for your constant erections. 

But it was difficult to deny it when, as the man orated with his tie discarded, you found your cock throbbing more eagerly than you can remember it having ever done before.

Sweat rolled down your forehead from the heat you were feeling. You cursed yourself, begging that the man would somehow not notice the warmth that afflicted you. But, as you let yourself look at him again, really look at him, you were both relieved and mortified to find that he was under the same circumstances. 

“Is the air conditioning broken?”

His words were breathless as he fanned himself with his papers. He was tugging at his collar now, further exposing his neck, now slick with sweat. It seemed to be bothering him more than it was you, somehow. 

“I-I think so.”

You could barely manage to let the words out. Your breathing had gotten unsteady, mind and body unable to focus as the man groaned from the discomfort. Seemingly without realising, his hand undid the two topmost buttons of his shirt. It exposed his chest–a strong chest covered in wild, dark black hair that you had been completely oblivious to the glorious existence of.

“Y/N? Are you alright? Is something-”

Of course now he notices your stares. It couldn’t have been when it was something that was easily explained away, like you were staring at him due to intent listening. No, it had to be when your gaze, which he followed, led down to his exposed chest. His exposed chest which had, mortifyingly, caused a wet spot to form in your pants. 

“Ah, my apologies. Let me redo my button-” 

“No! I mean-”

Your words came out too eager. Your brain was screaming at your mouth not to speak, to not make an utter fool of yourself. But your mouth chose to go rogue, instead opting to speak like a horned-up teen begging his boyfriend to keep making out with him. 

“Y-you don’t have to. I don’t mind.” 

An eyebrow was cocked in your direction. 

“Is that so, Y/N?” 

Your silence was used to scream, rather than actually think of anything remotely close to damage control. 

“Y-yes Sir. I don’t mind if you keep your buttons undone.”

“If that’s the case, then…” 

Was this… reality? Surely it could be. It was impossible. 

You were sitting there, cock leaking with precum like you were a virgin watching your first porno, as your handsome professor began to undo buttons, one after another. He was exposing himself further and further with each passing second, each button exposing a new section of chiselled, hairy, sweat-covered skin.

His breaths were deep and heavy, sighs and groans of relief sending more and more sensations to your cock. Every vibration of his vocal chords seemed to be felt in full force by your erection, not helping your situation in any way whatsoever. 

Then the man had the gall to take his shirt off, folding it neatly and placing it aside. 

His body truly was magnificent. Plush, thick muscles were a constant, whether you looked at his chest, his abs, his shoulders, or any of his muscles. They radiated strength, covered in that same black hair as on his chest and equally slick with sweat. His body glistened under the dim light of the lights hanging above, almost like a gladiator fresh from battle. 

How the hell were you supposed to react? What the hell were you supposed to do? 

“Y/N, it’s hot, isn’t it? Would you mind if I further… undressed?”

How the hell were you supposed to say no to that? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost pathetic how easily the man got you to fish your cock out of your strained pants. Little more than an offhanded request, actually. 

Now you sat, pants and underwear around your ankles, your own shirt unbuttoned, as you feverishly pumped your erect dick. Your hand glided up and down due to the slickness of your overflowing precum, breathing unstable and desperate. But you were helpless, the possibility of you stopping a distant memory.

Professor Cavill was now nearly nude. He had discarded his elegant brown leather shoes and well-tailored pants, also in a neat pile on his desk. It left him, his statuesque form, completely exposed to you and your horny, unabashedly feral mind. It was a wonder you hadn’t cum yet. 

“Keep pumping for me, Y/N. Be a good boy and keep going.” 

Fuck, you couldn’t stop. Not when he said your name in a gruff, demanding voice. Not when he called you the sweetest pet names. Not when he stared at you, panting and eager, with a hunger that a predator has for its prey. 

Most especially when his cock strained against dark, black fabric, as he rubbed along his clothed shaft as he took in the sight of your desperate form. 

“Prof-” 

“Henry. Call me Henry, Y/N.” 

Shit, you could feel your cum about to well up and burst. 

“Henry!” 

He gave you a curt nod of approval. Your stomach pulsed with excitement. 

“P-please, fuck me-!” 

You looked at him, eyes wide and begging, and desperately awaited a reply. With mercy, he gave you one. 

“Alright, Y/N. I’ll fuck you.” 

You let out a pathetic, strangled mewl as your cum sprayed up and onto your sweaty torso. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Henry–gah, you got to call him Henry–had a cock that you couldn’t fully process was actually human. It was too perfect. It was thick, nearly as thick as your wrist though thankfully just short. It was lengthy, having had to be nine or ten inches at full mast. His balls were heavy, full of cum that he was eager to let out, and the base of his shaft was buried in a wild, thick, furry bush. 

It was so close to you. It throbbed in front of you as you sat in your chair, the proximity allowing you to see the thick, pulsing vein that ran from base to near the tip. It let you watch as that fat, mushroom tip leaked a viscous, sticky precum. It lets you inhale that delicious, heady musk, intoxicating your mind and sending it reeling. 

It was almost too much to process. Almost.

You were far, far too eager to begin sucking on the fat shaft. Who could blame you? People would pay good money to get a taste of a cock this perfect. 

Fuck, the taste! A salty, somehow indescribably masculine taste, that flooded and overwhelmed your mind. It felt like you were at risk of addiction. Nothing had ever or would ever taste this damn divine. The copious amounts of thick, even saltier, precum being pumped into your throat was an excellent, equally addictive addition.

Even though it hurt and strained your jaw to stretch that wide and accommodate its length, the activity felt simply euphoric. If Henry would let you, you’d opt to do nothing more and nothing less than worship his cock, day and night. 

“That’s a good, good boy, Y/N. Lube up my cock.”

You always were one to follow Henry’s instructions. Always one to listen, to be a good, obedient puppy. Maybe that’s why you were his favourite. 

And, as he uttered praise and guided your head with a large hand’s firm grip, you certainly weren’t going to start disobeying now. With a hum of acknowledgement, you dutifully continued your task.

Once satisfied, Henry grunted and lightly tapped the back of your head. 

“That’s good, baby. That’s enough. Come, get off my cock now.” 

Part of you wanted to resist. How were you supposed to tear yourself away from his dick? It sounded impossible. But, you were eager for his praise, to hear him call you a good boy again. So, with one last deep dive down, your nose pressed into his hairy bush and your lips to the base of his shaft, you reluctantly pulled your face away and off of his delicious dick. 

“Good fucking boy. You’re a very, very good boy, Y/N.” 

Your cock throbbed with lust-filled need as you nodded with pure excitement. 

“You deserve a reward. Lay on my desk, Y/N, and let me take care of your now.” 

This was somehow the easiest instruction of the night to follow. You found yourself, now nude with your clothes having been folded just like Henry’s, laying on your back on his wooden desk. The surface felt cold and hard, but the feeling of a sturdy base comforted you. You knew that you’d need it. 

As you took deep, steady breaths. The first of the night, actually. Your mind was trained on one thing, one concern rather. 

How would you take his monstrous cock? 

The answer would come soon. Without warning, your legs were lifted by two strong hands. You looked down, seeing as Henry in all his glory set your ankles on his broad shoulders. He began pressing light kisses to your skin, beard tickling your skin, as he maintained unwavering eye contact. It caused you to let out a soft laugh, which he opted to respond to. 

“Your voice is beautiful, Y/N. Save it for me, okay?” 

You felt it then. His fat, throbbing, steaming hot cock was set beside yours, pressed between your dick and your thigh. He was slowly and subtly moving his hips back and forth, groaning at the sensational friction.

“You’ll let me hear you sing tonight, yeah? Let me hear your wonderful voice, Y/N.” 

His words were sweet like honey. It was almost enough to distract you from the prodding of his thick fingers against your tight hole. But, as you felt them push past your tight ring of muscle, your voice came out like the gates had been torn down, a moan resounding through the room. 

“There you go. Good boy… moan for me. Let me hear each and every one, okay?” 

You stared at him, eyes half-lidded, and nodded with an eager need to please.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Deep breaths, Y/N. Deep breaths for me now…”

How could someone so sweet cause so much pain? Henry was hunched over, his large, comforting hands on either side of your head as he hovered his face no more than four inches from yours. His heavy breaths fanned against your cheeks as he kept a steady, solid eye contact between you two. It was wondrous how much fire brewed within you from such a mundane act. 

“Are you ready? I’m going to insert the tip, alright?” 

He looked at you with such care and concern that it almost shocked you. He was a big, hulking man with a terrifyingly huge cock, but as it has come to be shown, a larger heart. It was so damn cheesy, wasn’t it? 

But that didn’t matter as you nodded once again, body unable to take the anticipation, the waiting, for him to shove his fat cock inside. 

…Except maybe it had to. His cockhead slipped inside with ease, but that wasn’t to say it wasn’t fucking painful. You let out a strangled half-moan half-scream, and within seconds, those large hands were patting the side of your head.

“Y/N? Is it too much? I’ll stop, okay? Should I pull out?”

Henry was kissing your forehead, your cheeks, the sides of your lips. He muttered small praises and comforts, every other kiss targeting a tear that had fallen from the pain. He kept true to his word; his hips remained still, his cock not pushing a millimetre further inside. It was from that moment of calm that, as you adjusted to the burning stretch, you were able to speak. 

“D-don’t. Just- give me a second to-“ 

You huffed out, desperate for air. 

“-adjust!” 

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. He tasted, somehow, better than his cock. It wasn’t quite something you could place, to be frank. It was a savoury taste, one with hints of candies you couldn’t identify and a tea whose flavour you couldn’t imagine. But it was entirely and wholly the delicious thing you’ve ever or will ever have. 

That was worth getting addicted to. And if Henry would let you, you’d chase that taste every single moment you can. Something told you that yeah, he would. 

“You’re doing so, so good for me, Y/N. So good, you feel so good…” 

Henry’s voice was low and comforting, just as much, if not more than his calming touches. He spoke in whispers between each kiss, and it led you to slowly, but surely, adjust to the pain. Before you had even realised, all you felt was the desire for him to push even further. 

“H-Henry, you can move now… please…” 

“Are you sure, Y/N?” 

Hearing your name roll off his tongue, so casual by this point, only cemented your enthusiasm. You nodded slowly and weakly, smiling the best you could. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful… Hold on to me, and tell me if I need to stop, okay?” 

Your cock nearly bounced at the praise. You eked out another nod as your hands came up to rest on his shoulders, leading him to return your smile with one of his own. And fuck, it was gorgeous. 

He kept his movement slow. It was torturous, but you could appreciate the time and the caution he took. His face watched yours, now scanning for any sign of pain or discomfort. At every wince or scrunch, he would stop, waiting for a nod or smile as your sign of readiness. 

“You feel excellent, Y/N. Being with you… I could get obsessed with this feeling, you know?” 

He leaned down to kiss you yet again. He kissed you, giving you yet another helping of that impossibly lovely taste: his taste. 

And then… then he brushed against your prostate, his cock like a mallet smashing into a button. Even slow, it sent a shock up your spine and a resulting heat through your nerves. Your loud, vulgar moans were taken with great joy and adoration from Henry, his smile only growing fonder. 

“You sound so good, Y/N. Let it out for me…” 

Perhaps you took it a tad too far as your cock, with the pressure to your prostate, burst with another spray of hot, sticky cum that painted both tour and Henry’s stomachs. Such a reaction was met with a warm laughter. 

“Not what I meant, but I’m not complaining. It’s good to know you feel good, baby.” 

He leaned in for yet another kiss and, in the hypnotising exchange, you just barely processed a large, encapsulating hand taking hold of your cock. Henry began to spread your cum across your own shaft, using it to pump your still-sensitive cock towards unbearable pleasure. 

“I’m gonna keep making you feel good, okay?” 

Sweat had beaded all over your skin now, streams running down your body as Henry’s own dripped down and onto your frame. He was pushing just a bit faster now—you almost couldn’t take the wait any longer. That once painful stretch had evolved into pleasure. It had evolved from a burning heat contained to your ass and spread into this resounding, unending warmth washing through you. In the process, it had devolved you into a writhing, moaning mess.

His cock was large, that was certainly clear. It was the kind of large that made your stomach bulge, the kind that you knew you wouldn’t ever be able to take with ease no matter how many times it had fucked you. And shit, you hoped that it would fuck you so, so many more times. 

But your composure only broke down further when his cock seemed to reach so impossibly deep inside, spreading your insides apart like it was trying to break you. Moan after moan fell out as your back arched involuntarily, only accentuating the bulge in your stomach. 

“Baby? Y/N?” 

You hadn’t even realised it, but Henry had stopped pushing himself deeper. Now, as he buried into what felt like the core of you and sent waves of electrifying heat with even the slightest twitch of his dick, his hips were flush against yours. He had bottomed out. 

“Henry…” 

Words other than the man’s name didn’t seem to be able to form. He, however, had so much to say. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing, Y/N. You’re taking me so damn well…” 

The hand not on your cock let go of your face and glided down your body, tracing lines down your shaking body, and stopped just over the bulging portion of your stomach. He brushed it gently, causing yet another crackle of electricity to wrack through you.

“Can… can I start to move?” 

Oh, you could’ve broken your neck with how fast you agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit, shit! You feel so damn good, Y/N.” 

Henry’s calm demeanour had taken a backseat. It was still there, in careful touches to your face and sweet caresses of your body. You could still hear it in every little praise he threw out, and every loving glance he gave your half-lidded eyes. 

His hips, though, had practically lost any form of restraint. 

He withdrew and pushed back in with speed and force, hips slamming with a harsh and sharp slap. Your ass felt sore by this point, but it was a warm, comfortable soreness when paired with the sheer, blinding pleasure of Henry’s cock. 

By the gods, the pleasure was insane. It was driving you mad, your vision going white. His cock, no matter how many times it was thrust into you, remained impossibly large and impossibly deep-reaching. It felt as though it only went deeper and deeper with each push, a result of your fractured state. 

But how could one stay sane when their body was being overwhelmed with such unimaginable pleasure. 

As drool began to spill and your eyes rolled back, Henry was quick to grab you by the chin and lock you into yet another kiss. Unlike the times before, though it carried the same sweetness, it was now heavy with a hunger, a need. He hungered for you, and he needed to fucking ruin you. 

And Henry’s a man who accomplishes his goals, isn’t he? He began thrusting into your harder, harsher than he had before. He thrust over and over and over again, his movements without a single missed beat or second of hesitation. 

His kisses remained constant too. His thick, strong tongue had shoved its way past your pretty lips and began to gnash against your tongue. It was a strange but nonetheless mind numbingly good feeling to have him invade your body even further. 

By now, his grip had transferred to and firmed on your hips. He kept you nice and planted in place on that damn sturdy desk of his, even as each thrust threatened its integrity. His pace was relentless, the wood starting to creak with his forcefulness. 

He drew back, saliva still stringing your mouth and his. 

“Y-you feel good, Y/N?” 

Who knew this man could stutter? But fuck, he made it sound hot. He sounded so lost in the pleasure, and even then, so firm in his every word. 

“Y-yes!” 

He gave a crooked smile at your words. 

“Good! Do you like the way I taste, Y/N? The way my spit tastes?” 

How vulgar was that? And how vulgar was it that, the second you tried to respond with a very clear yes, he decided to drop a fat glob of hot spit onto your cheek? He brought his thumb up to rub it into your skin and, hell, you were about to thank him for it. 

You couldn’t as he cut you off with yet another breathtaking kiss. You were left panting and unable to speak at all when he pulled away.

“You’re a whore, you know? A beautiful, obedient, whore.” 

His words carried no malice, only a heavy lust that he was just barely stopping from pushing him towards ruining your body completely. 

“But you’re my whore, alright? Don’t you ever fucking forget.” 

He slapped your cheek. It wasn’t one of anger, moreso just trying to snap you into focus. He wanted an answer and, as his best and favourite student, he knew he would get a reply out of you. 

“I-I’m your whore, sir!” 

It was a miracle you could speak, really. It was especially miraculous because the second he heard that, with one resounding slam of his hips into yours, you felt it. 

“Fuck, Y/N!”

In the moment, as you arched your back and let your mouth flow with moans at the highest possible volume, Henry’s cock pumped gush after gush of burning hot, viscous, cum. 

It felt like molten steel, an impossible extreme of everything that semen was meant to be. And as such, it brought the pleasure you felt from having your stomach pumped full of it to a high that you could never reach with any drug imaginable. 

And through it, his hips hadn’t chosen to stop. Every thrust was now being punctuated with a new load of cum filling your already full belly, each one followed then with another slap to your ass or lust-driven proclamation of love. 

“God, I love your tight fucking ass-”

You were screaming as you came at the height of the moment’s intensity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t sure when the night ended, exactly. It seemed that the man had fucked you for hours on end, until he had emptied his fat balls’ storage of cum and filled your belly with it. He had fucked you till your cock hurt, and each climax produced a dry orgasm due to empty tanks. 

He had fucked you till you were left unable to think of anything but his cock and the taste of his sweet, delicious lips.  

And now, he was buried deep inside you still, pressing kiss after kiss to your neck as you desperately gasped for air. 

“Did I go too hard? Are you hurt, Y/N?” 

Your body was, in fact, aching. It was this numb, almost muffled pain that was eclipsed—or perhaps even part of—this euphoric pleasure that continued to grasp you. Things no longer felt real, at this point, but a dream you’d rather not wake from. 

But things were very much reality, and that included a high-off-sex and full-of-affection Henry. 

“I apologise for the slaps, they were rather forceful…” 

You managed out a shake of the head to signal a no. The laugh that he gave, boisterous yet quiet, made your heart pound again. 

“I see. I suppose we’ll need ample time to explore what we both enjoy, hm?” 

The idea of more time with Henry, more time doing this, was certainly exciting. He didn’t need more than your dumb little smile, one you couldn’t wipe off your face even if you wanted or tried to, to tell you thought. 

“I can see you like the prospect, hm?” 

Another chuckle and another kiss. What bliss this was. 

“I’m going to pull out now, so that we can both get cleaned up, okay? Just breathe for me, Y/N, just like earlier.” 

You tried to follow, you really did. But as your hole was quickly left empty, gaping and clenching around nothing, you couldn’t help but whine unintelligible mutterings. Henry responded with even more pecks to your lips and caresses to your soft, delicate skin. 

Henry was certainly a gentleman. He had taken some tissues from the box he reserved for students with colds and used then to to clean the outer portion of your sloppy hole. His hands, as large as they were, moved soft and delicate, careful not to press against any overly sensitive parts. 

He had taken to cleaning himself—drying his cock, much to your dismay, with more paper towels. He had noticed your sadness and, with an admittedly smug smirk, said he’d allow you to suck his cock clean next time. It was still strange, even after the night you had had with him, to hear such lewd language uttered from the refined man’s mouth.

By the time he had dressed himself, your breathing had steadied. Your backside was still sore and leaking, but he had promised to help with that back at his apartment. 

Wait.

His apartment? 

“Ah, would you rather not? I can clean you up in the facilities here and-” 

“No, no! I’d-”

You coughed. All the sweat, mixed with what was now cool night air, had left your body just a tad sick. Well, that and the exhaustion from having taken on such an impossible task and cock. 

“-love to. I’d love to go home with you, Henry.” 

He smiled like he hadn’t heard anything quite as lovely before. You smiled back in return. 

He was the eager to tug on your boxers and wrap you in his suit jacket as a means of decency. He lifted you up bridal-style and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The man was strong and, with the ease that was carrying you, he even held your folded clothing in the hand supporting your butt. 

You even found the strength to be humorous in the moment, letting out a joking, “Ooh, strong guy, huh?” 

He graced you yet again with one of those pure, unadulterated laughs.

“I’m glad to have had this one on one session with you, Y/N. Certainly was productive, wasn’t it?”

THANK YOU to my lovely beta readers! There's a shit ton GAHAH

@inhumanshadows @worstwolverinesbf @darlingminjin @alatrysev @starboye @spermeboy @starrykie @sleep-0-deprived @slytherslvt @kurominis

Love you all :D you're all soooo nice and helped me finish this with your kind comments! Hope I didn't let you down with the end :>

[alliskit]

BG3 Headcanons Nobody Asked For.

Part 1: Sleep.

Staring up at my ceiling waiting to sleep made me ask, "How do the companions realistically sleep?" Thank you insomnia for the inspiration.

Gale:

He has to be comfy. He's particular about his pillows and will be very angry if someone "borrows" HIS pillow. (Karlach and Astarion thinks his reaction is funny and will steal it, likely giving it to Lae'zel who has no idea how it got in her tent and insists AGAIN it wasn't her)

It takes him a while to fall asleep, he's a canon overthinker and what better time than alone, pent up, in a tent.

Speaking of pent up, he is likely to wank off to help sleep. It's science. (Is thinking of tav)

Tosses slightly in REM or at the beginning, eventually stays pretty much in the same position all night.

On particularly stressful days/nights, he sleep talks. You could have full conversations with him, even if they are whacko and hilarious (Shadowheart loves to mess with this). He also says funny gimmicks in his sleep like his "By Algeron's nose!" quite loudly. It does wake camp and will start with others messing with him.

He has a tendency to early to sleep, early to rise, UNLESS he has found himself caught up in a recent hyperfixation where he will be up all night and crash at daybreak. His sleep will be much different and he crashes on his stomach, drooling a lot.

Most common position is one leg straight, the other slightly bent (almost making the 4 pose), hand on either side of his chest, unintentionally touching the orb.

Has a magical alarm set the to same time every morning. He gets up promptly and is a bit peeved by those who seem to "Dilly Dally" (because he says shit like that unironically) in the mornings.

Karlach:

Almost complete opposite of Gale. The girl's got ADHD as canon so IYKYK. If you don't *Let me describe it to you*:

She crashes. Girl can be asleep in under 20 minutes and can do it in almost any conditions. Had to learn to sleep wherever chasing devils in the hells. She rocks out and goes down hard.

Tosses and turns all night. Full on starfish queen. Always starts the morning with "Gods I was so cold last night". Likely because she kicked off all her covers at hour 2.

Sleeps hard. Doesn't wake up for anything. Zariel's entire entourage could show up at 2AM and she would have to be woken up.

She has 2 modes: #1) falls asleep before dinner because she just wanted a "nap", wakes at 4am for a snack and falls back to sleep. #2) She stays up talking until everyone is going to bed, even staying up to talk with whoever is on first watch and finally crashing when the second shift gets up.

It takes her forever to get out of bed. Everyone could be up and nearly ready to go and it takes the smell of food or someone nudging her to get her to start. Even if she does wake up, she takes forever to get ready or even off her bedroll. If the group wants to leave in a timely manner, someone has to get her up early (usually Gale because being late makes him angyyy. Also Lae'zel is very punctual but refuses to wake Karlach because "she needs to learn to do it on her own")

She is super groggy when she gets up. Will not talk to anyone.

Has to hug something: Tav, Clive, a pillow, extra bedroll, Scratch, etc.

Talks in her sleep as well, but hers are unintelligible. Some words like "Heya" or small phrases can be deciphered, but usually its just loud mumbles. (Cannot hold full on conversation like with Gale)

Vivid dreams. Likes to recount them on travels and tries to figure out if they mean something. They are usually very odd and funny. Though, she does have nightmares of the hells more often than she will admit. Has only admitted such to Astarion, who can relate.

Lae'zel:

Irish exits to bed. Tells no one. If everyone is drinking and she just decides she's tired, she goes to bed. Most don't even realize she's gone for a while.

She sleeps like the dead, but will wake up wide awake. She can be woken up by sound in the middle of the night, but she easily goes back to sleep.

Doesn't move an inch after sleeping. Sleeps on her back hands on her stomach like the dead. Sometimes a leg will shift an inch or so.

She has the perfect internal clock. Has to go to bed around the same time and wakes around the same time naturally. Soldier's hours. She was trained at her creche to sleep and wake at exact times - no exceptions.

The first time she ever slept in was after a night of drinking where she went to bed after her internal clock was ignored. She had a full on panic attack and got very angry that no one woke her, despite everyone being hung over and not waking up early too.

Dreams are vivid, but she doesn't talk about them like Karlach.

Stretches before bed in her tent, trains before breakfast every morning.

If it was her way, everyone would be on her schedule. Hates the differentiation between habits. Used to the organization and tries to repeatedly convince the group that it's the only way they should be doing it. They oblige her for two days, then stop. Karlach is the first to quit. Shadowheart secretly likes the idea of organized wake and sleep times, but will never admit it to Lae'zel.

Shadowheart:

Has to have tea before bed. Convinced herself she won't sleep well without it and now she doesn't. When the group has to make quick camp and she has no time to make it, she is annoyed, but won't say anything about it.

Light sleeper. She will sleep a full night, but wakes up several times. Likes to tell the one on watch it's because she wants to check on them, but in reality, she woke up having to pee. Like every night. And because they were likely too loud doing something to keep themselves awake and it woke her up.

She sleeps like a normal person would (is anyone normal? I guess I mean what statically people have a tendency to do...). She tosses a little in REM and then stills. Side sleeper. She also snores when she is really tired, and it can wake herself up. Once Astarion called her out for snoring and she vehemently denied it, but she knew it was likely true. She's really self conscious about it.

Though she loves Tav, she doesn't love sharing a tent. She grew up sharing everything with initiates and having her own space for once is nice. She will snuggle for a few minutes then tell Tav they're a little hot and scoot away. Not even a foot touch. Girl needs her space.

Despite needing space the exceptions to this are Scratch and the Owlbear. She has to have them in her tent. She will bribe then away from other companions because she won't sleep without them. (HC is in her playthrough she romances Halsin and will sleep next to him as a bear, when she can change into her lycanthropic wolf form, she might sleep that way next to him too.)

Wakes up as soon as she hears people about, usually right after Gale and Lae'zel. Hates that Lae'zel likes to be the group alarm clock by using her sharpening stone to wake everyone up. She did try to call Lae'zel out on it, but Lae'zel just shrugged and told her everyone should be up by sunrise anyway. She is secretly thankful even if it's the most annoying noise ever because she would just sleep in if Lae'zel didn't.

Wyll:

He likes to stay up late and wakes up only when breakfast is ready. Not as bad as Karlach.

He is usually the one to take first watch, so he can stay up and read his erotica, take a private bath (he's got a routine), dance alone, train, have a drink, etc. Have "me" time.

He sleeps flipping from back to side several times. If he's really tired, he ends up on his stomach. Heavy mouth breather. Knows he is because he will wake up with dry mouth or drool crust. Very insecure about it. Half of avoiding sex with someone is the sleeping over. He thinks he's a bad sleeper. He's not that bad. One time someone called him out on it, has been embarrassed ever since.

Dreams of falling asleep snuggling with Tav, but in practice, it kind of annoys him and they keep him awake. Used to his own routines.

Has to have water nearby. Will wake up with dry mouth and chug it.

Has dreams, but rarely remembers them.

Won't really talk to anyone until he's had tea, coffee, or food. Gale makes him super annoyed in the mornings because he wants to talk immediately.

Halsin:

Can stay up late and rise early. Will often be found talking to Karlach well into the night.

Has a tent, rarely uses it. Can fall asleep by the fire with people talking nearby or even someone up on watch. Will move his sleep spot to places just outside of camp to get more of a "falls asleep under the stars" feel. Can sleep without a bedroll if he wanted.

Naturally warm (werebear HC all the way), he doesn't often need a blanket, let alone clothes. Will skip clothes when he's outside of camp or in his tent. Wishes the companions were more "open minded" about the benefits of sleeping nude.

When not asleep in camp where he can be seen, will definitely, almost every time, wank off to sleep. It's natural! If he's got Tav, he will respect their no, but will always ask for a romp before bed.

He reveries peacefully, even if he's having "nightmares". No one would know if they looked at him that he was reliving the day his archdruid mentor died. He won't burden anyone with it either.

Big cuddler. Likes cuddling before reverie if Tav is willing. Or even if on of the companions are. Doesn't have to lead to anything, a cuddle is a cuddle.

Wakes with the sun everyday. Stretches and takes a walk within minutes of waking. Sun in the first 10 minutes kind of guy. (He would love Andrew Huberman)

Will want to talk as soon as he wakes up too, to Wyll's chagrin.

Minthara:

Has shit reverie. Super light sleeper most nights, where she can't say she got much sleep. Then once or twice a month she will crash. Will sleep like Karlach and not wake for anything.

DO NOT WAKE HER UP SHE WILL HURT YOU (only verbally if you're lucky, there is a literal knife under her pillow).

Even if she has sleep issues, she insists on an image of "early to sleep, early to rise". She sees herself in a secret camaraderie with Lae'zel. She won't admit she wants Lae'zel to give her approval, but she smiles and nods at her every morning.

Eternal eye bags, but pretends they aren't there. She is gorgeous and she knows it.

Nightmares about her life in Menzoberranzan or memories of the love of her life alive are the regulars on the menu, though after a few months with the companions, she starts having reveries about Karlach in battle... a lot.

Knows she should take a shift of watch and would be the best candidate for it, but won't do it unless someone asks.

Doesn't move in her sleep and if she wakes up, she moves as fast as a spider when you try to catch it. So, once again: DO NOT WAKE HER UP.

Doesn't talk to anyone until everyone has eaten, even if she is wide awake. She hates talking to people in the morning, unless you're Tav... or Karlach (but as previously mentioned, Karlach doesn't wake until breakfast and doesn't talk until breakfast, so it's her dreams come true.)

Astarion:

Left him for last becasue talking about the causes of CPTSD on sleep can be heartbreaking and complicated. I'm thankful I don't often relive memories in my dreams, but I know many who do. And he sure does.

He has broken reverie, not just shit reverie like Minthara. Minthy still reveries. He dreams/reveries together. He can't tell what is a memory and what is a dream anymore. His memories have been so rewritten, he doesn't believe he actually remembers anything properly, let alone his life before Cazador. He considers anything that comes up from back then to be a fantasy his mind made up.

It takes him forever to fall asleep and he wakes up easily. He is getting only a few hours each night. Spends a lot of time staring up at the tent ceiling or secretly watching the first watch until his turn at second. Is very often on either first or second watch.

Knows a lot about how the rest of the companions sleep. You can just assume he took these notes that I'm now recording for you.

He has no real sleep routine because he thinks they don't work and is frustrated by them even though Gale insists he keep trying.

Even when he's tired, exhausted, body ready to pass out, his mind is awake. He will still just lay there. Chronic insomnia.

When he has Tav's blood for the first time, it is the first time he has a full night reverie in centuries. It's not even scary memories, but rather sad mundane ones (would be sad and traumatic to anyone else, but traumatic for him is much more intense obvs).

By canon will have severe nightmares when too hungry.

Usually has to hunt before bed if Tav (or another companion) doesn't give him blood (HC is that Halsin is one of the only other willing to share). Gets excess anxiety out, but also feeding helps him get at least to sleep, eventually. Nights he doesn't he pulls all nighters or ends up having very short, nightmare induced reveries.

If Tav sleeps next to him, he sleeps a tad bit better, but is extremely nervous his insomnia will keep them up. First few times lies there just listening to them sleep.

Will pretend to "wake up" after others have gotten up, but has been up for hours already. Is the actual first one up even if no one else knows. Often takes a walk in the early light (Has seen Halsin sleeping butt naked and has considered waking the bear with a special "treat"). But usually uses the time to feel the sun on his skin and wade in the river alone.

Thank you for enjoying my very detailed mindless imaginings.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Shaver Mystery

Ray Palmer: listen midnight society i got a crazy story you gotta hear! Palmer: i found this guy, Richard shaver Palmer: he's got a story you wouldn't believe Palmer: but every word of it is the god's honest truth! Palmer: if i'm lying, may lightening strike me down!

Palmer: go ahead Richard, tell them what you told me Richard Shaver: there's an underground civilization of lemurians Shaver: living in tunnels under the comet ping pong pizza restaurant Palmer: big if true!

Shaver: after the lemurians abandoned these tunnels, people moved in Shaver: but they tried using the lemurians' abandoned death rays Shaver: but they didn't realize that if you don't change the filters on the death rays, it'll turn them into deros Barker: oh yeah you gotta change the filters on those death rays Barker: i mean who doesn't do that Poe: clive you really shouldn't make fun of him Poe: i don't think that's sporting

Shaver: anyway by misusing the death rays, it turned them all into deros Shaver: which stands for detrimental energy robot Barker: oh yeah of course it does Barker: that would have been my guess Poe: clive

Shaver: the deros can use their death rays to spy on your thoughts and control your mind Poe: ray i don't think this man is well Poe: i think you might be exploiting him Palmer: what? never! Palmer: he's fit as a fiddle! Shaver: also every day has within it four simultaneously occurring days

Palmer: wow! can you believe that's all true? Poe: ray, i don't think that's true Palmer: not true? look here buddy Palmer: its printed on the pages of Amazing Stories Palmer: all the news thats fit to print!

August Derleth: we're pals aren't we howard? bestest pals? HP Lovecraft: [sweats] Derleth: august and howard, that's what people call us! Derleth: cuz they're so used to seeing us together Derleth: we're practically inseperable!

Barker: boy you two really are thick as thieves huh Lovecraft: [sweats] Barker: august and howard huh Derleth: you can call us augie and Howie Barker: i'm not gonna do that

Palmer: in fact, i have a little something right here Palmer: linking the shaver mystery to the Cthulhu mythos Derleth: i'll kill you Derleth: i swear to god no one will ever find your body Palmer: Derleth: i will obliterate you

Palmer: whoa whoa whoa just take it easy there pal Palmer: i'm just tryin' to make a buck here, can't blame a guy for makin' a livin' can ya? Derleth: i will murder you Derleth: i will murder you dead Palmer: [sweats] ha ha whoa by is it getting hot in here? Palmer: [tugging collar] is anyone else getting hot in here?

Palmer: i'm just saying people love thinking spooky stuff is real Palmer: maybe lovecraft thought Cthulhu was real Palmer: we could make a lot more money if he did Derleth: hey mary let me see your knife Shelley: here ya go

Poe: mary don't give him your knife Shelley: it's my knife edgar i can do what i want Poe: why do you want to see Mary's knife Derleth: no reason i just want to see it Shelley: good enough for me

Palmer: you know what, i'm just gonna see myself out Poe: mary don't give him your knife Derleth: GIVE ME THE KNIFE!

[livelaughlou]

For @tevantarlos who requested Buck and Tommy on their first vacation together. I hope you like it!

He's laying under a giant umbrella, the latest Clive Cussler in his hands, the warm sand under his feet and he doesn't think it gets much better than this.

Except, he remembers quickly that it can, when another shadow comes into his peripheral vision and he grins without looking up from his book.

"Yes, baby?" Tommy says, turning a page. "Can I help you?"

The only warning he gets is an "incoming!" before Evan is flopping his entire, wet from the ocean, body right on top of Tommy.

"Ooph!" he grunts, managing to work his arm holding his book out from under his ridiculous other-half to place it next to him. "Evan, for goodness sake."

Evan laughs, leaning in for a kiss that tastes of the ocean and Tommy finds himself reveling in the mix of the salt and Evan's own flavor as he kisses him back.

"Mmm," Evan says, breaking away to lay down next to Tommy on his own towel. "I can't believe it took us so long to do this."

"To be fair, our schedules don't really allow for easy vacation planning."

"Hmm," Evan hums, sounding entirely content. "It's amazing though."

"Yeah?" Tommy asks. "You having a good time?"

Evan eyes him, looks sweet, soft, and affectionate. "I'm having the best time."

Tommy holds out a hand and Evan takes it, intertwining their fingers. "Good. I'm glad. Me too."

Evan smiles. "I miss the water already. Wanna go make out in the ocean?"

Tommy stands quickly as Evan laughs again. "Hell yes."

[thechaoticdruid]

[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant]

Astarion(s) x Tav

Plot: I made a post a while back about Ascended Astarion meeting Spawn Astarion via multiversal timeline shenanigans and legit maybe one person shared a fic with a similar premise.

So basically I was like *puts on infinity gauntlet* “Fine, I'll do it myself.”

Content Warning// 18+ for Sexual humor and suggestive themes. I legit have not been in the fanfiction business in years so go easy on me. 

Characters might be ooc. Spelling/Grammar mistakes may be present. A wee bit of blood and violence. Gale is made fun of. Tav is based heavily off my human druid Tav, Winnie and uses She/Her pronouns.//

Possible Triggers: Ascended Astarion, kidnapping, mentioned character death, possessiveness, obsession, AA touches Tav without her consent (not sexually tho), Galeshaming. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Ah, the Elfsong. There was really no better place to unwind after a long day of adventuring. And there was really nothing better to help one unwind than a favorite snack, a cold drink and lovely company. Unfortunately for Tav she'd have to wait up on the company as her beloved was currently preoccupied with his nightly grooming. Gods only know how long that man will take doing his hair. The human female rolled her eyes and brought her wine bottle to her lips taking a few swigs before biting into some cheese she'd been nibbling on prior.  Tav lounged about on their shared bed wearing nothing but a black tank and red boxers. Despite the peace and relaxation she was getting pretty bored without her love to snuggle and gossip with. Tav finished off the last few bites of cheese before she pulled out the private journal she'd been keeping since this whole adventure began. Little doodles of her partner decorated the pages along with her chicken scratch handwriting. 

She had documented details of their adventure whenever she had the chance and also took the time to add various doodles of her companions and any monsters they encountered. (Some of her favorite drawings included herself opening a bottle and releasing a spectator. And of course a lovely little drawing of her and Astarion kicking the shit out of Cazador.)

As she waited Tav began to entertain herself by writing down a to-do list.  

“Ah lets see…Yep definitely gonna have to have a chat with that pompous prick who was threatening a kid the other day. Maybe I can invite him back to the tavern later? I'm sure Star wouldn't mind having a snack.” Tav hummed, scribbling down everything she had planned out as of late.

Shit I need to do:

‘Feed rich tit to boyfriend.’ 

‘Teach Shadowheart to swim.’

‘Buy Clive a best friend.’ 

‘Murder baddies.’

‘Wildshape into a pigeon and shit on Gortash's head.’

‘Buy boyfriend cute clothes.’

‘Take Gale shopping for wizardy stuff.’

‘Look into real estate in the Underdark.’

‘Take Scratch for a walk.’

‘Kill more bad people.’

‘Contemplate licking dead spider.’

‘Be screamed at by Gale for licking dead spider.’

‘Buy flowers for Karlach and Shadowheart.’

‘Buy boyfriend more cute clothes.’

‘Study wizard stuff.’

‘Help Moon Lesbians plan wedding.’

‘Research ring of the sunwalker.’

‘Piss off the Gods……Again…’

‘Remember to take Astarion on romantic beach date before fighting the Elder Brain.’

‘Unalive people of not goodness.’

‘Shave Gale’s beard while he sleeps.’

‘Continue writing smutty novel series so I can keep buying boyfriend cute clothes.’

“Tav, a word please.” Gale appeared from around the corner. Tav groaned, annoyed by the prospect of having to get up. Especially since Gale looked like he was going to scold her for something. Begrudgingly she hopped off the bed, leaving the comfort of her room to see what in the hells that damn wizard wanted. 

“What do you need, Gale? I'm kinda in the middle of writing down my to-do list.”

“Am I inclined to believe that you've been writing erotic novels that feature Astarion and I?” The wizard inquired.

“Pfft! What in the hells gave you that idea!” Tav laughed, her eyes staring off to the side nervously as she twiddled her thumbs. Gale pulled out a red leather bound book titled ‘Blood-Mage’. It was a ridiculously smutty novel about a young handsome sorcerer named Garrett Delarous who is reluctantly forced to team up with a dastardly, but world endingly beautiful Vampire Lord in order to save the world or some shit. (The book mostly focused more on smut than plot.) Amazingly the novel had made a killing after Tav had peddled it at Sharess's Caress. It seemed nearly everyone wanted a copy.  (Tav was also pretty sure she noticed Halsin was reading the book as well.)

“My series is about a renowned sorcerer and a Vampire Lord. There's a difference, Gale.” Tav crossed her arms with a huff. 

“You can't just profit off of other people's likenesses Tav! You at least need to pay them royalties!” 

“I always give half the money I earn to Astarion.” 

“I’m talking about me!”

“I think my beloved ‘gloves of power’ were more than enough payment for you.” Tav huffed before looking off to the side with a sad look.

I miss those gloves so much.

Gale sighed in annoyance, pinching the bride of his nose. He was used to Tav’s shenanigans at this point but this was just ridiculous. Not to mention while skimming through Tav's scandalous work he noticed the sorcerer was always on the bottom during intimate scenes. The audacity!

“Besides I use the money I make from this for not only myself and Astarion, but the rest of the camp as well. Adventuring ain't cheap ya know?” 

“You can at least give me a small percentage of the profits. Say thirty percent?” 

“Ten percent.” Tav said flatly.

“Twenty percent?”

“Ten percent.” Tav repeated.

“Fine.” Gale gives in, causing the shorter of the two to smirk triumphantly. Tav watched smugly as the wizard slumped off in defeat before quickly adding another note to her to-do list.

‘Give 10% of book money to the stinky wizard.’

Tav finished off her list as she felt a pair of cool arms wrap around her form from behind, her cheeks tinting light pink. “Do you really need to take five hours in the bath?”  She hummed, turning her head to meet her partner’s crimson gaze. His hair was dry and looked rather soft and silky and he was dressed in this eccentric red silk robe with fluffy black trim.

“You can't rush art, darling.” Astarion purred before nuzzling his cheek against hers. “You know if you were getting impatient you could have joined me in the tub. I would have loved the company.” He murmured huskily.

“In these tiny ass bathtubs? I'd have to sit on your lap and even then I doubt we'd have enough room to really do anything.” Tav replied, nuzzling back against him. 

“We could still try.~” The vampire cooed.

“Tempting, but the others have whined enough about our night time activities. Apparently we're noisy.” 

“Then perhaps next time I shall have to gag you won't I?” 

“Alright! I'm ending this conversation here!” Tav said quickly, face burning up at his teasing. 

“Besides, I’ll need some sleep for tomorrow. Gortash won't kill himself, unfortunately.” Tav said with a yawn.

“Really? Now? I was hoping you'd at least cuddle with me before bed.” Astarion pouted.

“Oh you poor thing. Fine, we can cuddle till I fall asleep. Cutie.” The human female smiled sweetly before planting a kiss on her lover's cheek, receiving a content hum in response. Tav turned to pull away from the elf's embrace before suddenly feeling herself be scooped up and tossed over his shoulder.

“Hey! What did I say about picking me up!?” She whined, squirming a bit as she hung over his shoulder. “I don't like being manhandled!”

“But you're so adorable like this.~” Astarion teased, his hand gripping her ass as he carried over to the bed. Despite Tav’s complaints she did little else in protest besides pout and blush as she was whisked away. The two of them soon settled on the bed, Tav immediately nuzzling into Astarion's chest and relaxing. Astarion’s clawed fingernails found their way into her messy locks, caressing and running through them as the two snuggled together. His skin was cold to the touch, but honestly Tav actually liked it. It kinda reminded her of the cool side of her pillow. Even though there was the constant threat of death around every corner the two of them were still able to cherish their time together, and hopefully now that Astarion had been freed of his master they would continue to do so.

 There was still the tiny issue of an evil alien brain thing that could turn them into soulless squid monsters, but they'd be able to take care of that sooner or later. A part of Tav wanted to put it off as selfish and dangerous as it could be. Because as soon as they destroyed the brain, they'd destroy the only protection Astarion had against the sun. Tav wasn't about to give up on finding a way for her love to enjoy the sun, but for now she'd at least make the time he has left in it special. 

“Star….” Tav murmured aloud, her head tilting upwards to meet her partner's eyes.

“Yes dear?” He hummed.

“You know there's actually something I've been meaning to talk to you about. We've been together for a while now and well…we haven't actually had a real date….I mean I guess it's understandable considering we have to save the world and shit, but I was thinking maybe if there's time we could do something together....”  Tav bit down on her lip as she sat up on the bed. She felt nervous all of a sudden, not used to asking for stuff like this. Astarion had always been the one to initiate most of their romantic activities. The best Tav could do was a kiss on the cheek or a hug and even that had taken a while for her to get comfortable with. 

“What about all our little late night trysts? Do those not count as dates?” Astarion raised an eyebrow though his tone was playful.

“Ehh…well…rolling around in the dirt in the middle of nowhere isn't exactly what I'd call a date.” Tav said awkwardly, earning a chuckle from her vampire. 

“I suppose you're right. We've never really had any bonding time without you being pinned underneath me.” He joked before quickly clearing his throat and finally trying to be serious. “What do you have in mind, darling?”

“I just want to take you out somewhere…We could go out to eat or just walk in the park….” The human female twiddled her thumbs as she trailed off, feeling butterflies in her stomach. “I'd be up for anything really as long as I'm with you.” 

“I…would like that very much, my love.” Astarion cupped her cheek, his eyes soft and full of affection.  He pulled her into a sweet chaste kiss, allowing her to return it before she pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.

Thudd!

Tav quickly pulled back from Astarion's embrace as she heard a noise. She looked around frantically for the sound.

“Tav? Is something wrong?” Astarion asked.

“I just heard something…” She said before suddenly her eyes landed at the window near their bed.  On the opposite side of the window seat a small white bat could be seen looking through the glass. Its little red eyes stared at the human with an intense gaze. “It's a bat.” Tav pointed towards the window. Astarion looked over at the little creature before internally groaning.

 No. She better not even think about it!  

The bat blinked, looking at Tav a few times before curling its left wing against its body. 

“I think its wing is injured!” Tav exclaimed with concern.

“Ugh leave it! We've taken in enough stray beasts!” Astarion scoffed, but Tav immediately ignored him, rushing over to the window. 

“Tav! Don't! It probably has some horrible disease or something!”

Tav quickly opened the window, her eyes going soft as she looked down at the small animal. She moved to scoop it up into her arms but before she could the bat simply fell back. 

“Shit!” She shouted. 

“Thank the gods, it's dead. Now come back to bed, darling.” Astarion said, patting the spot besides him. Tav just glared at him silently before suddenly she wildshaped into a raven and flew out the window.

~•~•~•~•~

While Tav didn't preach about nature 24/7 like Halsin did she was still just as much of a druid as he was and couldn't bear to stay by while an injured animal was in need. (Much to her lover's dismay.)  She'd flown out the window of their room and circled around looking for the little bat. 

There was no sign of the winged beast anywhere near the elfsong, but at least that was a sign it likely hadn't fallen to its death. Tav kept searching, eventually straying further from the tavern until she was forced to land and give her wings a breather, returning back to her human form.  

“Dammit it's so dark I can't tell where I am. Everything looks different at night.” Her eyes strained as she struggled to make out any familiarity. Despite having lived in Baldur's Gate for about ten years Tav had always made it a point not to roam about at night. Her lack of dark vision made night time prowling even more dangerous, especially in this city.

She decided to reserve her strength instead of wild-shaping again. From what she could make out in the dark she'd found herself in one of the back alleys. Tav kept stumbling around in the dark for a while until at last she began to consider heading back. The bat likely wasn't dead since she had seen no hair or hide of it and she really wasn't in the mood to find herself in trouble. It constantly seemed to follow Tav these days it seemed. Last time she wandered around the city by herself she got into a fist fight with some stuck up noble lady who had referred to her as ‘a fat ugly little boy’. (The others were not happy about sneaking her out of prison that day.)

Just as Tav was about to assume the form of a beast fit for the night she noticed some light up ahead. The graveyard had been illuminated by a couple of lanterns. Tav approached hoping it would help her map out her way back if she just remembered how to get to the Elfsong from there. However as soon as she got close to the light someone was waiting for her. 

“Astarion?” Tav called out as her silver haired lover stepped out of the darkness. She expected nagging, and complaining about having to come out here looking for her, but instead Astarion just stared at her intensely as if studying every detail of her face. “Are you okay?” She asked with concern. Something was very strange about this. Astarion being quiet for long was never a good sign. Tav scanned him over, almost immediately noting his elegant attire. A black and red suit with silver bats embroidered on it. Odd. Tav had never seen him wear this outfit before. And he was always quick to show off any new clothes to her, seeking her praise. Astarion moved towards her quickly and out of nowhere pulled her into a crushing hug. 

“Yes of course. I was just worried about you, my sweet.” His grip on her was almost uncomfortably tight, as if he was holding onto her for dear life. 

“I haven't been gone that long….” Tav stiffened. There was an abnormal warmth to his body. Sure he was able to raise his temperature after feeding, but there was hardly a decent supply of beasties for him to nibble on in this city, not to mention he would have had to have found one pretty damn fast before seeking her out.  

“You’ve always been such a brave little thing, haven't you?” He let out a chuckle, his grip on her didn’t falter. His tone didn't seem threatening, but one thing for sure set off an alarm in her.

Thump-thump. 

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump.

Tav immediately ripped herself away from him and took a few steps back, her eyes glaring daggers.  “Who the hells are you?” She snapped. 

“Whatever, ever do you mean, pet?” His voice was full of false innocence, it reminded her a lot of how Astarion would often speak whenever accusations were hurled at him, but this person was definitely not her lover. 

Tav’s first instinct was to assume he'd probably been one of the shape-changers they'd been attacked by in the past, but there was this gnawing gut feeling that this time was different. 

“Drop the act. I've already met enough shit heads running around wearing someone else's face. Who are you really?”

“I’m Astarion. Really dear, I'm disappointed you have so little faith in me that you'd think I'd allow some lowly shape-changers near you.” He took a few steps forward. 

“Stay away from me…” Tav growled out through gritted teeth. Damnit. She didn't have any weapons and was literally in her sleepwear. 

“You seem tired, love. Perhaps we should head back so you can get some rest?” He extended his hand towards her.  Tav was about to say something else before suddenly an arrow came out of nowhere, nearly hitting the Astarion look alike in the shoulder. He was able to dodge just in the nick of time.  Tav gasped in surprise before quickly turning back to see another…. Astarion?

The two looked identical aside from their clothing. The imposter was wearing his elegant suit and the other one (whom Tav hoped to the gods was actually him) was wearing a familiar red and black doublet. 

“Hells teeth.” Astarion spoke up as he looked over at the two.  Tav immediately sniffed air around the second Astarion. The tiniest whiff of death hit her senses and immediately she ran over to him. 

“Star!” Tav was by his side in an instant. His arm quickly looped around her hip protectively before he scanned over her face. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, receiving a nod in response.  Astarion then looked over towards his look alike. “My, aren't you just beautiful? I must admit I'm quite flattered you chose to imitate me.” 

“Is that what you think of me? I'm hurt.” The other vampire laughed. “I am no mere imitation. I am you…..well a better you.” 

“You're not making any sense!” Tav hissed, her jaw clenching as she suppressed the urge to let out an animal-like growl.  

“Allow me to shed some light on it then. I come from a reality where instead of choosing to remain weak and pathetic we became who we always wanted to be.”  Tav's eyes widened at the revelation, though she was still debating whether or not to believe all this madness. Of course she'd been to hells, the shadowfell and even fought a god so maybe this wasn't too far fetched.

“The Vampire Ascendant.”

“If you're telling the truth then why are you here? You have everything you want don't you?” The vampire spawn quirked an eyebrow. Meanwhile the Ascendant’s face suddenly turned cold. He almost looked sad. 

“I did. Wealth, power, pleasure, everything I could ever dream of. I was on the cusp of dominating the entirety of the sword coast. Everything was mine. But none of it mattered without the one thing I cherished most. My beloved consort. My Tav.” His eyes suddenly locked into the human female. She felt small, cornered, like a rat caught between a cat’s paws. “He was taken from me…” 

Tav stiffened, taking a step back. She really did not like where this was going. Her lover kept a gentle hold on her, staying between her and the other vampire.

“And now you're here to take my Tav I presume?” Astarion scoffed, “you obviously didn't care very much about yours then if you're already looking for a replacement.” 

“HE WAS EVERYTHING TO ME!” Before Tav could think her lover was knocked off his feet. A punch had come at him faster than he could react. The Ascendant stood over him, shaking with anger. Tav moved over towards the vampire spawn as quickly as she could, checking him out. He seemed alright, albeit a little winded, possibly bruised. Astarion huffed, getting back to his feet. Tav was quick to cast cure wounds on him to help perk him back up.  

The Ascendant took in a breath, regaining his composure. While the spawn swiftly tossed Tav a spare dagger from his pack. A fight was likely inevitable now. 

“I’ve searched across thousands of timelines. None of these pathetic excuses for adventurers came even close to my beloved. That is…until I found you of course…” The vampire lord pointed a clawed finger at the druid.  “You're the only one who resembles him in the slightest, albeit you are a bit more…voluptuous than he was.” He chuckled a bit. 

“Okay hold on a minute! You can't just come here and take someone else’s Tav because you lost yours!” Tav pointed her dagger shakily towards him.

“My dear, I don't think you understand. I am the Vampire Ascendant. I can take whatever I want!”

“I don't care if you're the fucking god of gnomes I'm not going anywhere with you. I have my own Astarion.” Tav gripped the blade tightly while her free hand prepared to cast a spell.

“I had hoped you'd come quietly, but it seems we'll have to do this the hard way.” With a flash of pink light Tav was hit with a sleeping spell and fell to the ground unconscious. Her dagger dropped to the ground with a clatter. The spawn was quick to move in front of Tav taking out his rapier and aiming a swipe at the other vampire. 

The Ascendant stepped back just as the thin slender blade nicked a cut across his attire, just barely missing his flesh. The spawn took another swing at him, nicking his side and gaining a kick to the ribs in return. The spawn huffed, quickly recovering before moving in for another attack.

However the Ascendant’s clawed hand struck first, slashing through the armor surrounding the Astarion's shoulder and slicing his flesh. The spawn cried out and gripped his arm as his counterpart smirked smugly, bringing his finger up to his lips and basically tasting his own blood. 

“Mmm…Delicious.~” He purred. The Ascendant’s crimson eyes trailed over towards Tav before beginning to glow red. “To me, now.” He said as if issuing a command to unseen soldiers.

Within seconds two oddly familiar figures appeared out of mist. A sickly pale looking Halsin and Shadowheart, both with glowing red orbs for eyes.  

“Gods below. You've turned your own friends into spawn!?” Astarion gasped, his face full of disgust. 

“Eh…I wouldn't exactly call them friends…. Though they are much more compliant this way.” The vampire lord replied with a toothy grin. The spawn felt sick to his stomach. To think he could have ended up this way.  

“Take care of my inferior self, would you darlings? I have places to be…” The Ascendant gave a small wave before quickly scooping the unconscious Tav up in his arms. 

“Yes master.” The undead Shadowheart and Halsin replied, a bright red light shone around their bodies as they were compelled to attack. 

“Farewell beautiful.” The vampire lord gave his spawn self a wink before quickly vanishing into mist, taking Tav along with him.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Astarion….” Tav muttered tossing and turning in her sleep as she slowly began to come to. She shot up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding.

“Ugh…That was a terrible dream. Star you wouldn't believe…” Tav went silent as her eyes scanned her surroundings. It in fact was not a dream. 

“Oh gods damnit.” She huffed.

 Tav was in a large elegant looking bedroom, lying upon a purple queen size bed adorned with fine silk sheets. Maroon red walls surrounded her and were decorated nicely by paintings and other fine wall decor.  The first thing the druid noticed after taking in her surroundings was the pressure around her neck. Her hands quickly reached for her throat feeling what seemed like a tight choker of some kind. She quickly hopped off the bed and looked into the mirror of a nearby vanity that sat west of the bed. “Fucking hells.” She breathed out as her eyes laid upon a black and red collar adorning her neck. There was this unnerving glow surrounding the collar. Most likely some kind of magic was placed on it. Quickly she curled her fingers preparing to use a spell in order to tear this damn thing off of her, but nothing happened. 

This thing must be silencing my casting somehow.

Tav for a moment before forming an idea. She could probably wildshape into something small and squeeze out. Maybe. The druid sighed before getting on all fours preparing to transform into a rat. She let out a grunt, but nothing happened. 

“Oh fuck you!” She shouted before rolling and desperately trying to yank the collar off.

 Tav growled and pulled on the neck piece, yanking as hard as she could, resorting to gnawing on it. 

Knock knock.

The druid immediately ceased her actions at the sound of the door. A shiver went down her spine at the thought of it being that so-called ‘Vampire Ascendant’ again.  Her eyes flickered around the room before she took hold of a candle stick and stood next to the door, back pressed against the wall. 

The door creaked open and a small figure walked inside. Tav prepared herself to strike down whoever had entered, but froze upon seeing the person. It was a small blonde haired half-elf woman, dressed in a house keeper's attire. 

Tav quickly looked into her eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as she noticed they were blue. She set the candlestick down on the vanity and looked at the half-elf curiously. “Who are you?” She asked.

“My name is Abigail, milady. The master sent me to help you get dressed and make sure you come see him.” The small woman piped up in a small soft voice.  Abigail was petite and quite short, probably about an inch or two shorter than Tav was, though the druid estimated the half elf was probably around the same age as she was…well physically anyway. With elves you could really never tell. 

“And exactly where am I?” Tav crossed her arms. 

“The Crimson palace milady. My lord has taken up residence here while he stays in your realm.” Abigail replied before scurrying across the room, towards a closet. “It'd be best not to keep him waiting, my lady.” The half-elf rummaged around through the closet before taking a couple of different outfits to choose from and spreading them out over the bed. “My apologies if you'd prefer a dress, but this is all we could bring with us from our world.” 

Tav blushed a bit in embarrassment as she realized she was still only wearing a tank and boxers. She looked over at the bed and took note of the three suits that laid out in front of her. 

“These belonged to Master Tav. Master Astarion said they'd likely fit you, my lady.” 

“Now hold on, I have questions! How did you all get here, and what is this thing!?” Tav demanded as she tugged on her collar once again.

“I'm sorry I can say no more. Please miss, just get dressed.” Abigail pleaded,a hint of fear was in her tone. Tav was hesitant, but begrudgingly she slipped off her tank before sliding into one of the suits, a red one that felt a little snug on her, but actually not by much. The only issue being that she couldn't get the top three buttons of the white undershirt that went with it to button.  It left her cleavage slightly exposed. Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“Okay, I'm ready.” She said, Abigail nodded and began to lead the druid out of the room. 

Perhaps this was her chance? She could make a break for it on their way out! Tav braced herself to bolt only to be met with a shockingly familiar face as she exited the room. Lae'zel.  Or well a vampire spawn that looked completely identical to her githyanki companion aside from a pair of glowing red. 

“Dear gods, Lae'zel, what happened to you? Did Astarion do this?” Tav gasped in shock. 

 “She's not your Lae'zel, milady.” Abigail spoke up.

“I was told to make sure the master’s new pet came quietly, not to answer questions.” Lae’zel simply replied.

“Come on, let's go.” Abigail took hold of Tav’s arm, giving her a gentle smile before tugging her along. Lae'zel quietly followed, a seemingly permanent scowl on her face as she watched Tav's every move, almost daring her to run for it.

The three walked down a long corridor for what seemed like hours. The sound of footsteps along with her own heartbeat seemed to be the only thing Tav could process as a gnawing anxiety set in. Her chest tightened, her throat felt dry and she could feel this nervous pain dancing across her spine. She wasn't sure why but something about this other Astarion scared her. This Vampire Ascendant.  She had never been afraid of her beloved spawn, hells she wasn't even afraid of Cazador or any other vampire she had come across on their journey, but something about her lover's counterpart made her skin crawl. 

“Well aren't you just precious?” A seductive pur tore Tav from her thoughts, forcing her to look up and realize she'd been dragged out into the ballroom. It definitely was a lot cleaner than the past time she'd been here. All the blood and wolf corpses had been dealt with.  Just how long has this other Astarion been here?  He couldn't have just started squatting here, found and kidnapped Tav, and had time to clean everything up on the same day!  The Vampire Ascendant sat upon Cazador’s old throne, looking down at Tav. His eyes trailing over her.

Tav took a deep breath before clearing her throat and trying to appear confident.

“Where is Astarion? And I mean my Astarion.” 

“You needn’t concern yourself with him any longer. You're mine now and I will give you so much more than he ever could.~” The Vampire Lord stood up and stepped towards Tav slowly. 

“I’m not your Tav. I can never be him.” The druid backed up a little, however with Lae’zel’s presence behind her she didn't have much room to retreat. She wasn't sure if reasoning with this alternate version of her lover was possible, but it was worth a shot if nothing else. However instead of listening he swiftly took her hands in his. 

“No need to be modest, my pet, you're practically like him in every way. You have his eyes, his face, the same little quirks and ticks. Granted, you're built a little different anatomically, but that's not something that ever deterred me.” Astarion moved in closer, briefly pressing his lips against her knuckles. “And now that I've found you, nothing will ever part us. Not again.” Before Tav could speak she was pulled in for another tight hug. She squirmed a bit, conflicted feelings of pity and fear were arguing back and forth in her mind as she felt him nuzzling his face into her neck. He was clearly dangerous, but he also seemed heartbroken.  He wanted anyway to have his lover back so badly he crossed time itself to see them again. Or at least someone who resembled them. 

But Tav knew deep down she wouldn't be enough to fill the void left by her counterpart. Gods, she hoped there would be a happy ending to all of this.

~•~•~•~•~•~

A little note from ChaoticDruid: I really hope it didn't suck! I haven't published a fanfic in so long >~<  This idea had just been swimming around in my brain forever I just had to get it out!  I got the idea from the PS5 launch party animation and seeing Launch Astarion and EA Astarion flirting just made me go okay but what if it was Ascended Astarion and Spawn Astarion?

I don't know if I will continue it. I have other things I wanna write and my ADD makes this stuff so freaking hard. But maybe maybe not 🤞�� 

Part 2: LETS GOOOOOOO

[cryptictongues]

Purrfect Medicine

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: G word count: 4.2k summary: You find a stray cat and Joshua doesn't know how to feel. warnings: This is straight up fluff!

Author’s Notes: Remember when I posted a poll a while back and this and that Clive smut won? Well, here is this one LOL sorry for the wait!

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 Link]

The deadlands near the Northern Territories were dreary and dark, something that the realm has become far too familiar with in recent years. Its void of life has created an eerie stain on the map of Valisthea; a tell-tale sign to people that nothing good survives there with its lack of resources. Joshua knew this, yet you had somehow convinced him to set up camp for the night right in the heart of them.

It wasn’t something the both of you had planned for, being that he wanted to get to Prince Dion sooner rather than later. However, you had insisted on stopping for the night when he started to cough non-stop, wheezing more and more with each stretch of travel. He knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, the stubborn being that you are, and he wasn’t in any mood to argue. The last thing he remembers was you setting up the tent around him as he went in and out of consciousness, sleep taking over his brain until he was no longer present mentally. Now, as his mind starts to wake up, his first instinct is to locate your figure. He didn't sense any movement and the sounds of the deadlands were silent. Sitting up quickly, fast enough to make him dizzy, he pulls back the flap of the tent to see everything has been set up for the night, except you were nowhere to be seen. 

Joshua groans. He can’t believe you ran off alone again. After telling you numerous times to not leave his sight, you still don’t listen. While marching to the beat of your own drum is a trait he admires greatly, it drives him absolutely insane at the same time. It is times like these where he wishes his body didn’t fail him so greatly; to have the energy to take care of himself better. It would save him a lot of trouble for himself, but for you especially.

Joshua has known you since the two of you were kids. You were kept in the medicine houses, learning how to heal Rosarian soldiers as the time for war was upon them. He recalls being there a lot as a kid, being as sick as he was. He would always watch you as you watched one of the healers work on him, concentrating on what to do and use for certain ailments. He was charmed the moment he saw you, his chest fluttering in ways he didn’t quite understand at the time. 

Those were the only times he saw you. The two of you hadn’t spoken any words to each other unless needed for assessing, and that was that. It wasn’t until after the events of Phoenix Gate, where he remembers vague images of someone pulling him out of the rumble and loaded onto a carriage, where the girl who made his heart flare worked on him all the way until they went into hiding under the protection of the Undying. Long story short, being the only two children in isolation from the rest of the world made it very easy to become fast companions and the Undying declared you his guardian for his travel due to such a bond. Not that he would have accepted any other answer, for you knew him like the back of your hand. 

Which means he knew that you knew leaving with no warning would upset him, especially out in the deadlands.

Joshua walks out into the open, starting to pace back and forth unknowingly. You have done this before and have turned up just fine. But the what ifs, the what ifs that fill his mind with dread, make him uneasy with the same questions. Does he go searching for you? Does he stay put? What would you do if he left with no sign? It is the same cycle over and over again.

“If you keep pacing like that, this stop will have been for not.”

Joshua whips his head around to see you standing a few feet away, smiling at him like you weren’t just gone for who knows how long. He takes a long, good look at you, examining to make sure nothing is out of place. But you looked just as you did when he passed out; clean and unscathed. 

“I wouldn’t pace if you would just listen to me for once.” He grimaces. 

All you did was smile at him, eyes turning into crescents as you walked towards him. “I apologize, Your Grace. I was out finding some herbs for your well-being, but I am sure you can assume how that went.”

“Well, my darling, this is the deadlands. One can assume that means everything is dead.” He feels his lip wanting to curve into a smirk, but he represses it. He can’t let you keep getting away with this: scaring him and shifting his mood back the minute he sees you. He wants to say more, but the second he starts to move his lips, he hears a chirp come from your satchel. 

You laughed amusingly, from what Joshua can assume is his reaction to the noise. He watches you reach for the latch, opening it slowly. “If everything is dead, care to explain this?”

He watches the satchel move slightly, and then sees two black ears pop up. A moment later, he sees piercing green eyes, and not a moment too soon he sees a pink nose and whiskers. He is at a loss for words as he stares at a black cat. A bloody black cat.

“Isn’t he cute?” You exclaimed, removing the satchel from your body and setting it on the ground, revealing the cats full form. “I found him hurdled in a crevice off the outer cliff. I didn’t see any other cats, so I guess he is all alone.” 

Joshua looks at the cat closely. “How do you know it is a boy?”

You smirked at him. “I can show you if you want.” You go to pick the cat up and immediately it clicks what you were about to do.

“No need!” Joshua rushes out, his face heating up from the embarrassment of his outburst, causing you to burst out laughing. 

“You should see the look on your face!” You laughed, sitting down in the process and letting the cat crawl into your lap. “I was thinking of what we should name him. Lance short for Lancelot? Crow? Maybe something more common like Bernard?”

Joshua’s eyes go wide. “Don’t tell me we are keeping him.”

“Well, why not?” You shrugged. “He could be the best healer in the group, especially if I train him.”

“My love, he is a cat.” Joshua states the obvious. He doesn’t even know the first thing about taking care of a cat. Sure, he knew how to take care of a Chocobo and even a frost wolf, but a cat? That was out of his range. 

“Cats can be wonderful companions, if you let them.” You smiled, slowly cradling the black ball of fur in your arms as you stood up. You walked over to him, holding the cat up by your face to give the most puppiest of eyes. “Come on, Joshua. Can we please take him with us? I’ll take care of him just like I take care of you. Besides, just you wait! I will make him the best healer you’ve ever seen!”

Joshua doesn’t want to give in, but the more he looks at you, the more his willpower crumbles. He hates how easily he folds for you, and as he continues to stare at you and the cat, he knows he has lost this battle. With a long sigh, Joshua nods in defeat. “Fine, but please, for the love of Greagor Herself, don’t run off again by yourself.”

In an instant, he feels your plush lips kiss his cheek. He watches as you buzzed with excitement, holding the cat close to you. “Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, Joshua! You will not regret this!” 

He is going to regret this.

-

It had been a week since Crow, the name you decided to give your furry friend, was found. Like you had promised, you’ve been very good at taking care of both him and Joshua. Joshua was impressed with your ability to multitask between two beings. However, what was starting to crawl over him like a green second skin was all the fault of the little feline.

Joshua admits that Crow is very well-behaved. He doesn’t run off anywhere he isn’t supposed to. He is relatively quiet, letting out a meow or a chirp if he is hungry or wants some attention. He doesn’t get upset being carried in the satchel you carry, quite the opposite really. Joshua has noticed that Crow is quite keen on keeping his head perched over the bag to watch the surroundings during travel. There is nothing to complain about, except for one major thing: how much he got your attention. 

The first night, you had been curled up into Joshua’s side, per usual, with Crow settled at your feet. It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning that he noticed your warmth seemed further away and saw you lying flat on your back with Crow curled on top of your chest. Joshua remembers a glimmer of jealousy in his heart but set it aside quickly. It is just one night. This will not be common practice.

Until it did. It always started the same and ended the same. Joshua started to loathe the damn cat, and he felt silly for it. “It’s a bloody cat!” He thought. He should not feel such negative feelings towards it, but every time he pushes the jealousy out, it rolls back ten-fold.

Joshua is walking side by side with you, the two of you trailing the Crystal Road, getting closer to where the two of you need to be. Joshua is deep in thought, negative swirls of green dancing around his head, when he feels a small bump against his leg. He ignores it, thinking he got too close to your bag, when he feels it again.

He looks down to see Crow looking up at him, eyes wide and mouth curled. Joshua watches him bump his head against his leg, only to look back up at him with his big green eyes. 

Joshua is stumped. Is he hungry? Can he feel the negative energy enclosing in his brain? Can cats do that? 

“Um… dearest…” Joshua says softly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful walk. 

“Hmm?”

“Crow wants something.”

Joshua and you stop in the middle of the road, and you spread the bag apart. “What’s up, little guy?” 

You scratched his head, and Crow started to purr. You chuckled, looking at Joshua who was standing there feeling lost. 

“You are so knowledgeable, yet so clueless.” You smirked. “He wants attention. He wants you to pet him.”

“Me?” Joshua asks, seriously questioning how that could be true. Crow hadn’t been craving his attention; it had been yours.

“He wants you to scratch his head. He loooooves that.” You drawled out. “Go on. Just like this.”

You scratched his head around his ears, demonstrating to Joshua how to proceed. He hesitantly lets his fingers run across the back of Crow’s head, just petting him at first to get a feel for how he will react. Crow pushes his head into Joshua’s fingers, which encourages him to start moving his fingers back and forth quickly. 

Joshua couldn’t believe his luck. Crow was purring at the attention he was getting, and it made Joshua grow bolder. He starts to scratch down under Crow’s neck, making him lift his neck further for more room. In a way, this felt very therapeutic to him. It’s as if the twangs of jealousy that filled his head left within seconds, putting a smile on his face.

He hears a small chuckle, and he looks up to see you smiling behind your hand. He perks up, still scratching Crow in the process. “What’s so funny?”

“It just seems like the sun has decided to come back out.” You dropped your hand, letting it reach for his free one. “You seemed rather gloomy as of late. I’m just happy to see you smile genuinely."

“I apologize,” Joshua followed up with. “I have so much on my mind.” It wasn’t a lie, of course. He did have a lot on his mind, but he doesn’t have the courage to admit that the main thing getting to him was jealousy due to a damn cat.

“I know, but that’s why you have me. You know I’m always here for you.” You swayed, pulling him in a little closer.

Joshua hums and brings his hand to your face. With a gentle grasp, he pulls you in for a soft kiss, reminding himself that you are indeed here for him. He knows you wouldn’t put yourself in such a dangerous position if you didn’t feel strongly for him. 

The kiss is interrupted by another head bump, causing Joshua to pull away. He hears you laugh and next thing he knows the satchel strap is over his shoulder, the cat in the bag right by his right leg. 

“I’ll let you carry him for a while. He seems to want your affection.” You grin. He laughs softly and takes your right hand to press on the long, winding road with his right hand in the cat bag.

-

Joshua and you made camp, and for once he thought it best to stop for the night. It wouldn’t be long before the two, well three of you, reach the Crystal Belt, so some time to gather himself in preparation for his meeting with Dion sounded best. 

Joshua was settling into the tent, waiting for you to come join him. He had started to help clean for an early start tomorrow, but you insisted he go ahead. While he usually would insist right back to keep his gentleman roots intact, he could feel the long day weighing on his eyelids and chose to let your stubbornness flourish for the night. 

His eyes were starting to flutter shut, until he heard the soft patter of paws near him. He opens his eyes to see Crow staring at him, or at least what he can see of him. His black coat completely camouflages him into the shadows of the night, but his green eyes glimmer in the dark.

Joshua sits up on his elbows, hesitant to move. He watches Crow observe him, the cat's head tilting by the way the eyes become diagonal from one another. Petting Crow in a bag, where he is secure, is one thing. To engage with him where he can make any move he wishes is another. While Crow has been friendly, it has been when you were around. This is the first time he has been alone with the feline, and he doesn’t know how to act. 

Crow had gotten noticeably closer and was now at the crevice of Joshua’s left arm. He stiffed when he felt Crow sniffing him, goosebumps rolling over his body in anticipation. Great Greagor, he is going to jump me. However, not only did that not happen, but the next thing Joshua sees is Crow let out a yawn, stretching his whole body in the process, before falling on his side with his head laying in between Joshua’s elbow. Small breaths can be heard as Crow starts to relax further, causing Joshua to relax with him. He lays back down, getting more on his side so he is in a comfortable position that allows room for Crow to stay undisturbed from his slumber. Carefully, he pulls Crow closer to him, making him snuggle more into his arm. 

“This isn’t so bad.” Joshua thinks, a small smile forming on his lips. His mom never allowed Torgal to sleep with him as a child, her excuse being the wolf dander would deplete his immune system more than it already was. To have an animal so close to him is comforting. It makes him feel oddly safe, even when he feels safe in your company. 

He hears the tent flaps open, and the moonlight shines into the tent. He sees your expression as you look at him and Crow, and his heart melts at how your eyes lit up. He watches you tie the flap so it is slightly ajar, and then watches you crawl in. You sit criss-crossed beside him, very obviously admiring the scene occurring. 

“Well, isn’t this a sweet surprise?” You said smugly, arms crossed.

“Yeah,” Joshua lightly laughs. “I guess I can understand why you would want to sleep with him and not me.”

“Awe, was My Lord jealous of the little pussy cat?” You pouted jokingly, and all Joshua can do is groan. He knows it is silly, but he can’t deny it.

“I won’t deny my feelings, though rather immature.” He huffs lightly, looking down at the sleeping ball of fur. He moves his hand to stroke the black fur of Crow’s side, his mood lighting up even further. “This is strangely healing, however. I don’t blame you.”

“Well, you can now have a turn with him. He is a great sleepmate.” You moved to set up a side for yourself, but Joshua carefully reached for your arm causing you to turn to him quizzically. 

“I have a proposition, being that you join us instead of sleeping alone tonight.”

The warmth in your eyes at his statement makes his heart leap, knowing your answer before it slips your lips. He watches you undress to the undergarments that lie beneath your outer clothes, and lifts the covers when you go to lie beside him. He intertwined his legs with yours, both of your bodies getting as close as possible without crushing Crow. His forehead touches yours, inhaling with an ease he hadn’t felt in a while.

“What is it?” You asked, concern in your tone.

“Nothing,” Joshua mumbles, his left arm cradling Crow to his chest and his right hand settling on your waist. “This is just nice.”

You both fall asleep to the soft hum of Crow’s breathing.

-

Joshua’s perception of Crow has changed gradually as you all traveled. When he feels his mood sour, it’s like Crow knows and works to get his attention, and suddenly Joshua feels 100 times better. Crow was therapeutic, in a way, so traveling with him wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. If he was being honest with himself, he felt rather happy when Crow begged for his attention. 

There had been a change of plans in the journey to Prince Dion’s camp. On the belt of the Crystal Road, Joshua had started to feel worse for wear. His coughing had grown rougher and more painful, more blood coming out of his lungs. His chest wound was growing bigger by the day. He knows he is running out of time, so he had insisted that the journey must continue. Once again, however, you did not listen. Which is why he is now laying in a bed at the Dalimil Inn. 

“We really need to get a move on, dearest. We need to get to Dion.” He tries to sound healthy, but even he isn’t dumb enough to think he sounds convincing. He starts to move, wanting to sit up, before another round of coughing rushes out of his lungs.

“Yeah, and you struggling to stay up right is going to help us get there faster.” You snarked, still light hearted nonetheless.

Joshua wishes to retort, but he doesn’t have it in him. He falls back with a groan, his brain pounding and chest tight. He knew keeping Ultima locked away would be hard, but the agony that comes with it is more than he could have realized. Being naturally ill doesn’t provide any immunity to pain, and Joshua was learning the hard way.

You come into his vision, and like the angel you were, you pull the covers over him. Tucking him in like you were his baby, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, which Joshua relished in. He won’t admit it to you, but he has always loved being taken care of. 

“I’m going to run out to the market and find some minerals and herbs for your medicine. I’ll also get you some food as you should eat something.” You twirled a piece of his hair, only to drop it to brush your fingertips against the baby hairs that meet his forehead. “Crow will be here to keep watch.”

Joshua turns his head slightly to see Crow sleeping in the desk chair beside the bed, curled up into the seat. He knew he had to be tired, and a weird sense of envy seeped into Joshua’s bones. He wishes he could sleep with such ease. 

Fingertips graze his chin, rotating it until he meets your eyes again. The way you are looking at him makes his chest feel lighter, even with the chaos and muck that stirs within. Your skin on his soothes him, and he can’t help but to lean into your touch. His eyes flutter shut, and he hears you hum softly. “Try to get some rest. I shall return to you soon.” 

Light pressure sets against his lips, lasting for a few seconds, before releasing. He listens to your steps, and continues to listen after the door shuts. The faintness of your steps disappear, but Joshua still hears them in his mind. The soft pitter-patter of your light feet tap away, and slowly pulls him into a deep sleep.

-

Even in the few moments before Joshua’s slumber ends, he can sense a difference within himself. He feels as if his chest is heavier than before, but not as it was before. The angry flourishes of pain have settled to a dull ache, something he isn’t accustomed to these days. There is a peacefulness that has taken homage, and it is the most calm he has felt in the last few days. The heaviness on his chest is comforting. It felt like the times he would wake up with your head on his chest, with deep breathing that vibrated his being. 

In the early stages of being awake, he reaches for his chest expecting to feel your hair against his skin. His fingers brush against what he believes to be hair, until his brain reminds him that it isn’t coarse and surely doesn’t rise and fall. His eyes snap open, sleepy delirium resolved as he comes face to face with black fur. The light in the room had dimmed slightly, meaning it had been approximately two hours since his slumber. Sometime during the duration, Crow had taken it upon himself to rest on Joshua’s chest.

Crow was purring insistently loud, his eyes crescented as he rests with his body curled. Joshua couldn’t explain it, but the vibrations soothed the violent thumping that would make him stumble with each step. His whole body felt as if he had found an oasis; like he had discovered something that quenched his relief. Or more so, Crow had discovered how to help him. 

Joshua scratched Crow’s head, getting behind the ears, making the black feline purr louder and lean into his hand. He could feel a lump in his throat, for somehow, a cat had come to his aid. A cat took one look at him and knew how to help him. Who knew such a remedy would treat him so diligently and work so well. He presumes Greagor knew what She was doing when you had come across the ball of fur; a healer with a healer cat. 

Joshua was so immersed with Crow’s abilities, that the sound of the door opening and closing hadn’t caught his attention. It isn’t until he feels movement at the end of the bed that his head shoots up to see you with the biggest grin on your face.

“What did I tell you?”

“Regarding?” Joshua asks, confused as to why you are looking at him with such glee.

“I told you I’d make him a great healer!” You cheered enthusiastically. “Look at you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look as comfortable as you do right now.”

“You’ve trained him well.” He continues to pet Crow, moving his fingers down to scratch under his neck. “However, I do believe you said he’d be the best healer I’d ever seen. I’ll admit I stand corrected, for he may even be a better healer than you.” He jests, knowing it’ll rile you up.

You gawked at him, “If he wasn’t lying on your chest right now, I’d make you take that back.”

“You can remove him if you’d like. I’d like to see what you’d do.” He draws out lewdly, loving how you are reacting to his quips. 

“Whatever, you perv.” You laughed, moving to crawl beside him. You had gently wrapped an arm across him, right behind where Crow lays. Your head is now beside his and he can’t help himself as he leans in to kiss you. The two of you stay like that for a while, enjoying the tranquility of the moment before the three of you prepare to experience the rough world out there. 

Him, his lady, and their cat.

[drabblesandimagines]

Warm Palms

Clive Rosfield x afab reader Fluffity fluff, slight spoilers, mentions of period

Clive has always been a light sleeper from a young age. From his training as a Shield of Rosaria and later a captured soldier of the Imperial Army he knew sleeping left you vulnerable. Any slight noise was a threat that needed to be assessed, then either dealt with or dismissed.

He would admit, however, that he had been sleeping somewhat easier since you’d started to join him in bed.

Too long had both of you ignored the feelings bubbling under the surface, only coming to a head after a pint too many of Molly’s brown. Molly had headed off to bed when the two of you were her only remaining patrons, and to avoid your voices echoing around the ale hall Clive had invited you up the stairs to his room to finish off your drinks. It was only when the two of you entered, he realized he didn’t have anywhere to sit - the chair at the desk being the only seat in his room. So, the two of you had sat on his bed, knees knocking, until a combination of the sweet smile on your face as you listened to him speak and a surge of confidence had resulted in his lips meeting yours before escalating into a passionate, frantic kiss.

You’d spent your nights in his bed ever since – whether he was there or not, he’d discovered, returning late one night from an excursion and finding you fast asleep in his sheets.

It takes him a minute to realize what’s woken him up. The waters of the blighted lake lapping upon the walls of the hideaway, the soft hoot of the stolas in his chambers, and then a soft grunt of pain coming from your side of the bed.

Your breathing is different, not the steady state of one asleep, but that of someone trying to tolerate discomfort. You shuffle ever so slightly, obviously trying not to disturb him and wince as you do so.

“Darling?” He whispers.

“Sorry,” you mutter back. “Go back to sleep.”

He leans up, slightly – you’re facing away from him. “What troubles you?”

“It’s nothing,” your voice hitches for a second. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, tilting you towards him so he can see your face, catching a wince.

“Love?”

You open your mouth but take a moment to say anything. “It’s my monthlies.”

“Ah.” He nods, as if he knows much of the subject. The truth was, you were the first woman he had been intimate with and though you had been together a fair few months now, he hadn’t heard you mention them previously, assuming they had happened in times of his absence. “Painful, I take?”

“Mm. It’ll pass.” An unconscious grimace crosses your features once more. “Please, go back to sleep. You never get enough – I feel guilty for disturbing it.”

“I can hardly sleep easy knowing my lady is in discomfort.” He sits up then, reaching for his discarded linen shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll go down to the infirmary, I am sure Tarja will have something…”

Your hand grasps his arm, stopping him before his feet touch the wooden floor. “No, Clive. Please don’t wake half the hideaway on my account. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

He frowns – he doesn’t want to go against your wishes, but he can’t lie back down knowing you’re in any amount of pain. You’re so precious to him, every wince or soft noise of pain is like a dagger to his heart.

“Please.” You reiterate, and he concedes, dropping his shirt back.

“I must do something.”

“Just stay – that’s enough.”

But there must be something more he can do, he thinks, as he leans back against the wall slightly, taking you in his arms and pressing his lips to your forehead in what he hopes to bring momentary comfort.

A conversation overheard dredges up in his mind – a time in the infirmary, after Tarja insisted he sit still for ‘at least ten minutes’ after she had stitched up a gash on his arm and he’d complied to save her the stress. From the other side of the curtain, he heard her speaking to one of the young girls of the hideaway who’d started her monthlies, providing her with information, talk of painkilling draughts and herbs and also a mention of a warm compress upon her stomach to relieve the cramps.

He looks at his palm in the dim light. Since the reawakening of Ifrit all those years ago, he’d tamed the flames that ran underneath his skin more and more, able to change the intensity at will. He concentrates hard, just enough to bring an imperceptible layer of warmth to his palm and touches it experimentally to his face – he’d never wish to burn you. It feels soothing upon his skin.

“Do you trust me?”

“You know I do, love,” you mumble from your place on his chest.

“Roll onto your side a moment.”

You don’t question, doing as you’re told. Maybe if you hadn’t been tired and uncomfortable you would’ve questioned it more. Once you’re on your side, Clive readjusts himself onto his own side, his broad chest pressing onto your back and he slips his hand around your waist, dipping below the slip you wear to bed, up your thigh and eventually landing on your stomach. You’d gone to protest, unsure of what he was thinking, but when his palm pressed upon your skin it was comfortingly warm, soothing the rolling waves of pain in your stomach.

“Does that help?” He asks, tentatively, but he had already felt your tense muscles relax at his touch.

“Very much so.” You sigh into the pillow. “How…?”

“Thank Ifrit.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head, before rubbing soothing circles upon your stomach.

“Thank you.” You reply, softly. “It feels wonderful.”

“Anything for you, my darling.”

Clive continues to rub his palm on your stomach until he hears your breathing slip into the rhythm of sleep he knows so well. He nuzzles his face into your neck, feeling content. His palm remains in place all night, the warmth keeping the pain at bay and granting the two of you a restful sleep.

--

Ghostdog: I'm on my period and I can't find my hot water bottle, so Clive's imaginary palms will have to do.

Thank you so much for all the requests! I am working on a few at the moment <3 Wrote this more for me but I will have some requests up in the next few weeks. There's some other characters I'd be happy to write x reader fics for in FFXVI, so do let me know! x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[vprosper]

Still no account, but another snippet of this big ass fanfic below!

A bit more details this time;

it's going to be a slow burn (enjoy the over 80 pages folks...)

in the story/snippet , you just learned to read (why hello harsh childhood)

This part comes after 'Size doesn't matter'

-----

Bodyguard

The following days, you found yourself traveling with Clive to Northreach. Each on a chocobo, you made quick work on arriving at the Veil. You were fine with staying there, but Clive had assured you it was too noisy over there. So instead, you stayed at an inn just outside the city. “A room for me and my bodyguard.” You said to the innkeep. You found it hilarious that you pretended to be a wealthy merchant that needed Clive as a bodyguard. He still had his Branded tattoo, as Clive insisted the other cursebreakers where to go first with the procedure. You were actually on a trip to buy more supplies for it. But anyone would've been fine, so you were not sure why he asked you to come with him.

“The Branded can stay in the stables with the others.” The innkeep replied, assuming you wouldn't want him close during the night.

“On the contrary.” You replied with a fancy accent. You even bought some fake jewelry for the occasion. “He can sleep on the floor in my room. He's my bodyguard after all.” You didn't even spare him a glance, and you easily convinced the innkeep to allow the bearer to join you in your suite.

“As you wish ma’am.” He replied, handing you your keys.

“Quite convincing.” Clive spoke up the moment you locked the suite door behind you.

“Don't worry, I'll sleep on the floor.” You said, feeling sorry for the treatment he'd gotten the past days. Like your father treated you, Clive was still being treated every day. You didn't need an explanation on why the world had to change. Another valid reason to stay and help out in the Hideaway.

“No it's okay. You should sleep on the fancy bed. I already have one at the Hideaway.” Clive replied, trying to convince you. You wouldn't call that bed of his fancy.

“You know, I've read about this trope.” You said, sitting on the bed. Clive looked at you after he put his sword against the wall. “Yeah that's right, I've moved on from the children's books.” You were proud of that.

“I'm not sure where you're going with this. You booked the room.” Clive replied.

“You asked me along though. This bed is big enough for the both of us, and you with that tattoo would never get your own room.” You observed him, looking straight at his blue eyes.

“...” His eyes widened, as it dawned on him what you were getting at. When he was little, Jill was more into romantic fantasies than he was. She would often tell him how the two love interests got together. “I can assure you that I did not ask you along to end up in bed with you.” Clive defended. He had to admit that he might've entertained the thought the first day when you cooked that stew, but it had been years since then and valued your friendship more than anything. “Okay. In any case, you sleep on the right.” You say rather commanding, as to not show you were nervous. You trusted Clive with your life, but had never slept in the same room as a man. Clive just nodded, taking off his cape.

“The shops have closed by now, so let's take it easy and have a good night's rest before doing what we came here to do.” He said seriously, gladly changing the subject

Odd. I already thought we were leaving late. Is he trying to take it easier for once? 

“Alright.” You said, taking off your boots. 

I can do that. I'll just act like normal and we'll be on our way tomorrow.

You undressed, leaving on your shirt and smalls. You took your book from your bag and settled under the blankets. Clive undressed as well, leaving on his pants. “You don't need to keep that on because of me, that's probably uncomfortable.” You said, looking at his back. It surprised you how you were so casual on this. It was just Clive after all.

We're both adults here. This is no different than sleeping outside with Dio and Trevor.

“It's fine.” Clive just said. Maybe you made him uncomfortable, you realized. You shrugged, and got back to your book. It was a fantasy story about magical rings. “You got quite into reading.” Clive commented after he got under the covers, seeing you furrow your brows and staring intently at the pages.

“I promised Harpocrates I'd practice every day. This book however, has such long descriptions. Really easy to fall asleep to though.” You replied, flipping the page. Clive silently admired the effort you put in. He tried waiting until you put your book away, but his eyes got so heavy that he failed to stay awake.

...

If you still wanted a good night's rest, now was the time to put your book away. Clive was already fast asleep. He looked very peaceful. His chest went up and down in a steady rhythm. You could see several scars on his upper chest and shoulders alone. With a wry smile you observed him a little while longer. With his hair out of the way, you saw his full face for the first time. The stubble framed his face, the scar on his cheek, and there were no wrinkles or frowns on his forehead at the moment. You sighed, putting away your book and turning off the light.

Clive nudged you awake the next day. He was already dressed, which surprised you. “Oh, thanks for waking me.” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Clive just smiled as he turned his back to you as he waited for you to get dressed. As you put on your pants, Clive spoke up.

“We have some time after this, if you want to go somewhere?” You just finished putting your shirt in your pants.

“Huh? No that's fine, I know you're busy.” You replied, finding the question odd. You couldn't see Clive rolling his eyes.

“Listen.” He turned around. “Jill told me about your last bearer rescue. How you-”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” You deflected. It was a bit early to talk about your shortcomings.

“I'm sorry, it happened because of me.” He looked at you, and you met his gaze.

“What are you talking about? We failed to bring back a single soul, and you're worried that some bastard spit in my face?”

“Y/N…” You mentally slapped yourself. 

What is it with me and spitting people? Can I get a grip please?

And then you realized why he asked you along. To get out of it for a bit. Do something different. Take a bit more time. He felt guilty. “A talk would have sufficed, Clive. No need to go through all this trouble.” This suite suddenly felt ridiculous. Clive acting like your bodyguard felt ridiculous.

“I wanted to. I'm putting everyone in a tough spot, and you don't want me to at least try to bring some distraction when I think it's going too far? I saw how Jill looked. How you seclude yourself even more.” It was a desperate plea, and you felt your stomach churn.

“You should've asked Jill to come along, not me. She's better at these kinds of things.” Jill had a more sophisticated aura about her, and was better at shopping for fair deals than you were. You sighed, letting yourself fall back on the bed.

“Jill is accompanying Tarja. And it's about you right now.” Clive calmly said, as he moved over and laid next to you. You both stared at the ceiling. “I need you to buy me some medicine.” He chuckled at the notion. “These people won't talk to me, until this brand is off my face.” You turned your head towards Clive. He looked back. A moment of silence before you relented.

“Okay fine. We're doing this because you need the stuff for your operation, not because of me needing a distraction or whatever.”

“Good enough for me.” Clive said, as your gazes were still on each other. For a moment you thought something was going to happen. Then there was a knock on the door. “Breakfast ma'am, served in your room, just like you asked.”

[filosofablogger]

A Bit Of Black Friday Humour (& Tunes, Too!)

As I pondered what I wanted to opine about today, trying hard to find something a little less bleak than the way I’m feeling this afternoon, I happened across Clive’s post and … well, suffice it to say he brought me a smile and some chuckles on this ‘Black Friday’!  So … rather than depress you with my sourness, I thought it only fair to brighten your day with Clive’s fun ‘n music!  Thank you,…

[borninwinter81]

I've been rediscovering my love for Clive Barker this week due to finally managing to see The Ultimate Cabal Cut of Nightbreed (some kind soul has uploaded it to YouTube) and then re-reading Cabal, the book it was based on.

Cabal is amongst my favourite books ever written (though as a bibliophile that list is extremely long!) and one of my favourite movies. I originally saw it in the early 90s when I was probably far too young, and read the book not long after.

I backed the Occupy Midian campaign in 2012 when the lost footage was being searched for and reintegrated into the movie, and I attended a screening of one of the early edits where I met Nicholas Vince and Simon Bamford (Kinski and Ohnaka in Nightbreed, but better known as two of the Cenobites from Hellraiser). This led to the eventual DVD/Blu-ray release of The Directors Cut (which I got a physical copy of) and then The Ultimate Cabal Cut (which I didn’t, and which I haven't seen until now).

It's an oversimplification to call Barker's work horror, especially in Cabal/Nightbreed - this was the mistake the production company made when originally editing and marketing it.

Clive Barker's vision shows us the beauty of the weird, the macabre, the abnormal, and the supernatural, and the true horror in his work comes from the "normal".

In Cabal/Nightbreed his monsters are not evil, they're simply different - undead, mutants and supernatural beings, a metaphor for anyone who has ever felt othered by society. Midian is a place where they can live safely with no fear or judgement. The evil characters are "naturals", humans who hate and fear the monsters for being different even though they pose no threat, and ultimately try to destroy them.

As a member of the LGBT community it's easy to see where Barker's motivation for this metaphor came from, but it could equally apply to just about anyone who feels like they don't fit in. Certainly as a lonely, bullied, weird child when I first read/saw it, who then grew up into a reasonably weird adult, I'd love for the monsters to come and take me away to Midian.

Anyone seeing this who isn't familiar with the book/movie, I'd urge you to look them up, as well as others by Barker. More of my favourites by him are Imajica, Abarat and of course The Hellbound Heart, filmed as Hellraiser. The Forbidden from short story anthology The Books of Blood was also filmed as Candyman.

Below I've linked The Cabal Cut of Nightbreed. Even if you know and love the original theatrical release I'd still urge you to watch this (quick as you can in case its removed due to copyright!).

In addition to doubling the movie length from 1 hour 40 mins to 3 hours 20 mins, a number of the actors voices have been re-recorded as they were overdubbed in the theatrical version for some reason, notably those of Rachel, and Lylesberg, played by Doug Bradley. It was a crime to remove that man's beautiful voice and wonderful to hear it back where its meant to be.

Also, rather than being a standard horror movie heroine who seems to be there only to scream and be rescued, in this version Lori comes across as much stronger and more well-rounded character.

As it says in the opening text, although much of the footage was of good quality there are some sections where all they had available were degraded VHS tapes, some of which were without audio. This means the editing is also a little clunky in places. However the makers of this version wanted to include everything they possibly could in order to bring it in line with the original shooting script and Clive Barker's epic vision for the piece.

[hauntedtrait]

Once Upon A Time In Chestnut Ridge...

There were 9 ( yup, I went one over, couldn't help myself! ) strapping strangers vying for one heart.

Asher Downey by @rainymoodlet

Clive Tanner by @m0ckest

Francisco "Cisco" Torres by @fizzytoo

Levi Cheung by @bibliosims

Mauro Del Toro by @mangosimoothie

Xolo Herrera by @acuar-io

Rory Liang by @mobwhim

Kylie Coltrane by @maleeni

Lucky Wolff by @hazelsnakes

Thank you so much to everyone who submitted a sim! Even if your sim wasn't picked in the end, know that I appreciated seeing your entry and trust me when I say this was NOT an easy decision, so much so I ended up going 1 over the original intention of taking 8 sims. And to those who have been selected... well, good luck! ;)

[noctuadora]

I just have this super soft spot for characters who went through traumatizing events, but the goodness in them never really left. They should be hating the world that brought them so much loneliness and pain, but they didn’t let the lingering darkness inside them fully consume them.

As I grew up, I learned to appreciate more of these characters because it’s just so easy to fall into despair and hate everything. It takes a strong heart to stay kind despite everything that’s happened to you.

To Leon Kennedy, who continued to protect and save people despite being traumatized by the events of Raccoon City and unfairly had his bright future taken away from him.

To Clive Rosfield, who shouldered the responsibility to save his world from its eventual ruin despite initially falling into despair for failing to save his hometown and brother.

To Aerith Gainsborough, who helped save her world from destruction despite being treated as nothing more than a lab subject at a young age, and seeing her mother die right before her very own eyes.

To Gintoki Sakata, who continued to protect anything and anyone dear to him despite losing his teacher and his place—his home, leaving a hole inside his heart.

Thank you for reminding me to be kind despite everything.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Spicy

JD Barker: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the bad app JD Barker: it's a spicy story about an app that you download on your phone JD Barker: but this app JD Barker: is a little JD Barker: spicy

JD Barker: boy let me tell you JD Barker: it's tough to get word out about a new book these days King: tell me about it! King: i keep posting but nothing's making a dent! King: there's got to be a better way! JD Barker: there is!

JD Barker: i've got a fool proof way to generate publicity for a book King: oh? well, don't just stand there -- tell us! JD Barker: ok, you guys ready for this? JD Barker: might want to get a pen ready to write this down JD Barker: cuz this is gonna be JD Barker: a little spicy

Clive Barker: hey before you say anything, i just wanna remind everyone i am a different person Clive Barker: just really feelin' the need to get out in front and say that

JD Barker: so here's my idea JD Barker: you get booktok influencers to take off their clothes King: Poe: Lovecraft: Clive Barker: Koontz: JD Barker: cuz this book is SPICY!

Koontz: [writing down] "you get booktok influ-" Poe: no no dean Poe: don't write that down Koontz: but he said Poe: it's ok dean just shh Poe: don't worry about it

Angela Carter: you're going to -- !!! Carter: wow Carter: of all the blatantly misogynistic Carter: exploitative JD Barker: [tugging collar] uh oh! Carter: predatory Carter: sexist JD Barker: [tugging intensifies]

JD Barker: or you could get them to do a video answering the question "what's the craziest place you ever had sex?" JD Barker: any questions? Mary Shelley: hey i got SEVERAL fuckin questions JD Barker: [tugging collar] uh oh! Shelley: you say you're paying for this? Angela Carter: mary, no Shelley: shut up this is easy money

JD Barker: oh yeah, we're gonna pay the big bucks to get spicy JD Barker: like, maybe $100 Mary Shelley: oh fuck off

JD Barker: wow listen turns out there's been a little mistake JD Barker: a real whoopsie doodle JD Barker: you're gonna laugh Carter: yeah? try me JD Barker: ha ha JD Barker: [tugging collar] ohhh

JD Barker: this was all just a misunderstanding JD Barker: see, this wasn't my idea JD Barker: it was the PR firm i hired Carter: then guess i need to talk to the head of that firm JD Barker: [collar tugging intensifies]

JD Barker: [wearing hot dog suit] look we're all just trying to find out who did this