#I think this might be my favourite thing I've drawn so far

[hummingbee-o0o]

And he will not be trifled with!

(come on, season 3, you know this is Ed's ultimate fantasy, deliver it to him and to all of us)

[parasolemn]

[Image description: In the first image, Harry Du Bois and Kim Kitsuragi are sitting on the swingset waiting for the tide to recede to investigate the crashed motor carriage. Harry is trying (and failing) to whistle. The dialogue reads: DRAMA - Spit flies from your mouth to your moustache, your chest, the ground before you... No sound though. HORRIFIC NECKTIE - Raining heavily here, chief - mind keeping it down a bit? KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant must think it's rather funny/ He smiles and quickly turns away. In the second image, Harry gives Kim an exasperated look. The dialogue reads: DRAMA - He's gloating at you. Oh, it's so easy for Mr. Teacher! HARRY - "I would like to see you try in this bloody wind." KIM KITSURAGI - With his lips puckered the lieutenant lets out a beautiful melodic trill that puts even the Insulindic thrush to shame. The third image is a shot of the pair sitting on the swingset from behind. The text reads: You hear the sound echo on the large body of water. Clouds race across the spring sky and suddenly you just feel better. About everything. Kim's whistling heals Harry's morale. End ID]

Running behind time rn, might have to skip over Conceptualization to get back on track. sorry!!! I know this isn't *really* focused on Drama, but it's my favourite Drama check, so... Don't worry, there are far more egregious things in my list 🙏 Also - no extra Dramas today. I've never drawn her in all her effervescence before.

[satorubrain]

Heyy <3

Can i have *another* request for the child eater Gojo~ how he would wake us up:

Normally (everyday)

To be sweet~

In an emergency~

and To be a pain!

Thank you!! i'm looking so forward to this!!!

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader.

Tags: Fluff, slight angst.

Synopsis: How Satoru wakes you up.

A/N: WELL THEN I HOPE U ENJOY THIS BBY <3

Normally.

Lets consider this is the normal one but the real normal is "to be a pain"

He wouldn't. He doesn't even want to get up. But your phone is too far from his reach and it's too comfortable to leave. He nuzzles in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent mixed with your lotion.

"Babeeee" he whines. "Your alarm has been going off for the last 15 minutes? Think you can do something about it please?"

"Mn. 5 more minutes pleasee" You mumble in your sleep, head buried in the pillow, eliciting a giggle from him.

It's a daily thing and both of you knew that. The 5 minutes might turn into 5 hours and you'll still somehow manage to doze off without a worry in your sleepyhead.

He hugs you a little tighter before dragging you up along with him, rocking back and forth with you, saying sweet nothings in your ear waking you up (mostly because if he annoys you in the morning, he'd be found dead in the next two seconds).

To be sweet.

This usually happens when you return late at night from a week long mission or when he fully knows you've been having a hard time recently, he tries his best to be extra sweet.

He wakes up a little early, drawing you a bath so you can relax. While the water is filling up he gets you breakfast, since he's prohibited from cooking but at least he knows how to make your favourite kind of tea.

Giving you a gentle kiss on your cheek as he slides an arm under your back, helping you get up.

"Good morning, sweet. I've got you breakfast and drawn a bath for you. What do you want first..... Or perhaps you want me?" He mischievously jokes earning a smack on the shoulder from you.

In an emergency.

I dont really imagine what kind of emergencies he might have. But I can think of three to be specific.

Case 1:

If anything that wakes him is your phone ringing because someone called you at an ungodly time.

Thankfully before it could even bother you, he picks it up just to find out about an emergency exorcism of a special grade curse that appeared out of nowhere. All it did was annoy him, he was irritated by the higherups who decided to summon you at 4 in the morning.

No he still doesn't wake you up. Instead he decides to solve your problem and not bother your peace.

Giving you a quick peck on your forehead, whispering "sleep tight, sweets. I will be right back" to which you mumble random incomprehensible words, which was enough encouragement for him. It doesn't even take him an hour to finish up your work and return to your warm embrace, giving in to his sleep.

"Uhh what did I get paid for?" You question, mostly yourself while checking the text message as you got ready for the day.

"Well i wonder" he stands proudly in front of you grinning widely giving you an answer.

Case 2:

He's crying.

It's one of the days when his thoughts get the better of him, his past comes tumbling down, numbing his senses and leaving him so vulnerable.

He's holding you close, afraid that he'll have to lose you too- maybe that you'll leave him or something else. His past has left a deep wound in his heart that is far from being healed, which reopens from time to time leaving him whimpering and afraid.

You soon wake up to his silent sobs, his chest heaving, and his soft sniffs. It doesn't take you long to come to your senses and realize he's probably having an anxiety attack. You know what's aching him, he doesn't need to tell you nor do you need to ask.

You hug him tightly as you gently pat his head. "My love, my Satoru. I'm here alright? You'll be fine. We will be fine okay, love?" you try your best to comfort him, reminding him to regulate his breathing as you wipe his tears, and thankfully it seems to be working.

"P-please... Don't leave me" Satoru pleads, sounding so pained and broken. You feel your heart shatter at his words.

"Always my love, I'll always be with you" You assure him, cupping his cheeks as he rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes while holding you tightly as he falls asleep.

To be a pain.

Exhibit A.

Another emergency being, him having a stupid question at 3 fucking 48 in the morning.

"babe babe as curses are developing they will start crushing too?" "Do you think Sukuna ever gets lonely? Nah maybe not hes a loser" "Babe will you love me if i was a worm?" "I had a dream of you!!! Did you dream about me too?" He shakes you awake, looking at you with his bright cerulean curious eyes.

"Gojo Satoru are you serious?!"

"My name is not Gojo Satoru, my name is, my love or something like that but not gojo. But what do you think about the question!!!!!!"

Exhibit B.

He has returned from a week-long mission at 4am and of course he wakes you up with a loud announcement of his arrival before he rushes into your shared bedroom, discarding his blindfolds somewhere. The door hits the wall with a loud bang while his throws himself on top of you crushing you with his weight.

"I'm love-starved" He explains cupping your cheeks, frowning and pouting slightly, his eyes a little watery. Enjoying your every movement and grunt that spill past your lips as you try to make space for yourself. Witnessing your beauty makes him realize how much he missed you as he cages with a tight hug.

Exhibit C:

"Rise and shineeeeeee" He declares as he slides the curtains aside causing you to wake up whining.

"Glad you woke up! I need my morning kiss now" He returns to you demanding a morning kiss just to be thrown off the bed when he comes close to you before you rush to the bathroom to get ready.

Oh, how he loves teasing you and annoying you. Knowing you won't even say a word before brushing and getting rid of that morning breath he could care less about.

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

[bloodiedrogue]

ONLY FOOLS FALL

SUMMARY: Upon arriving in Baldur's Gate, Zayis decides to pay her old flame a visit... much to Astarion's dismay.

PAIRING: Astarion & Zayis (OFC)

WORD COUNT: 12,356

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, penetrative sex, teasing, blood sucking as a form of foreplay (therefore mentions of blood), feelings realized, first confessions, angst with a happy ending.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's been months of brainstorming this particular scene and the build up that goes along with it, but I think I finally got it. For context, Vesryn is Zay's sort of ex who she never properly breaks up with due to getting kidnapped.

I know this chapter is a bit of a doozy but please, if you at all like my writing I beg you to give this one a shot. It's probably one of my favourite things I've written and I'm very proud of it. :')

Also shout out to @novarunestone specifically for helping my brain push through. You're the best, dude. <3

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST

-

She’s at his door before she can even think to leave, rapping her knuckles against the grain —trying her best to swallow down the knot that resides in her throat. Pushing against the walls of her esophagus, she can feel the obstruction blocking her airway. 

Forcing a heavy sigh to escape as she reaches up to touch it, she can’t help but wonder if this is her body’s way of enacting guilt. Considering her mind’s already jumbled up enough as it is, she wouldn’t be surprised if it was. She did throw a knife at her partner’s head for Gods’ sake, so the least she could do is feel the events of her shitty behaviour. That and to properly apologize. Which is ultimately why she’s here, standing in front of her old home, running her fingers nervously along the length of her neck.

As it swells with anticipation she can feel her chest tighten and her hands begin to sweat. Each symptom growing the longer she stands there, waiting; wondering whether or not he’ll answer the door. 

Deep down, there’s a part of her that hopes he doesn't. A part that screams for her to turn on her heel and dash back to camp without even looking back. A part that thinks the unspoken word between two separating parties is more than enough closure to get her through. It’d certainly be the easier option, right? The one with less baggage. Perhaps if she could just accept that she’s still that same asshole that left all those weeks ago rather than the better person she’s currently trying to be she could just pretend like she never knocked on the door in the first place. Up and leave and never speak of this again. 

Biting her bottom lip in annoyance, she knows she can’t. Thanks to Wyll and his stupidly decent advice, she’s too far gone with this whole making amends thing. Having promised the warlock she’d at least try to apologize, the mere thought of failing makes her want to crawl all the way to Avernus and never let another soul see her face again. Either that or hole up in the woods somewhere. Whatever happens first, really. 

However, considering the more likely option being Avernus, she continues to stand there, idly scratching the side of her neck, feeling the ends of her claws dig through her dirtied flesh. 

Almost immediately, the feeling of it makes her cringe and drop her hand, realizing just how stupid she must look, covered head to toe in dirt. Reeking heavily of sweat and viscera —two scents you definitely don’t want to bring home when you’re about to beg for forgiveness for apparently running away with a vampire. 

Which obviously isn’t the case. Or, at least wasn’t. Nowadays she’s not quite sure what to think about that whole situation. So most of the time she just blocks it out entirely. Ignoring the fact that the line that was once drawn between her and Astarion has begun to blur into something new. 

Something she has to apologize for otherwise the guilt might eat her alive. So, she bangs on the door again, this time using the edge of her fist to repeatedly slam against the wood, gritting her teeth in frustration. All while praying to whatever God might be listening that for once, instead of fighting, Vesryn just accepts her apology.

Because truthfully, she’s not sure she can take the rejection right now. Not even when she hears him grumbling on the other side of the door, making her realize she’s still pounding against it. Her hand repeatedly colliding until it’s eventually torn from her grasp and the man she once called her partner is standing before her. 

“Zay?”

He looks older somehow. Worn out. With eyes that were once large, round orbs of obsidian are now narrowed and soaked in age. A newfound darkness cradling each one with exhaustion. 

Pressing her lips together she nods her head at the sound of his voice and continues to stare, taking in all his features. Picking apart the way his face twists from confusion to annoyance, ultimately falling on something unfamiliar that eventually disappears inside the crook of her neck.

“You’re alive.”

He says it as if it’s a question. Whispering it against the shell of her ear, she barely hears it at first. Too shocked to process the position that she’s currently in, all she can do is stand there and try to repeat the phrase in her head. Allowing the individual sounds to fully absorb before she’s nodding her head again. “Hi, uh, yeah.” 

He pulls away, still resting his hands on her arms. “You escaped.”

Suddenly confused, she raises a brow, watching his expression change again —this time back to annoyance, prompting her to realize what he means. “Um, not exactly.”

“Not exactly? What do you mean not exactly?”

She opens her mouth to respond before closing it back up again, unsure how to explain the events she’s recently experienced without completely freaking him out. 

“Can I maybe come inside? We should probably talk.”

At first, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he just stands there, staring. His mind most likely reeling from the fact that his ex is now standing at his doorstep in the middle of the night, covered in shit, most likely preparing to tell him that the man she left with is still very much in the picture. 

None of which bodes well for her ever-growing fear of rejection. Especially considering that if the roles were reversed, she’d already be slamming the door in his face, telling him to piss off. So the fact that he hasn’t done that already feels like a bit of a miracle. One that continues to bless her once he eventually pulls away, motioning towards the inside of the house with a tired sigh. 

Awkwardly, she smiles in response and enters, taking in the familiar scenery. Feeling its presence hit her like a ton of bricks as she forces herself further inside, ignoring that knot again. Pushing whatever anxieties that spread through her in order to move to the dining room table and pull up a chair. 

“I’m sure you have a ton of questions…” 

Trailing off, she lets out a nervous laugh and begins to play with the end of her tail. All the while Vesryn just stands at the other end of the table, looking down at her like with such empty eyes that she can’t help but clear her throat and pivot. Opting to just ramble instead of waiting for an answer, knowing deep down he might not give her one. 

“First off, I need you to know I didn’t leave willingly.”

His brow quirks up at that. An air of interest coating his features, urging him to take a seat. “That’s an awfully vague way to start a story.” 

“I mean, I’m not trying to be vague,” she replies, suppressing the desire to roll her eyes. “Honestly, I just —I don’t really know how to explain what’s happened.”

“You don’t know how or you just don’t want to?” 

“Both, I suppose.”

All he does is snort and raise his hands to his face, dragging them down until they’re resting over his mouth, showcasing his never-ending lack of patience. “You’re aware of how late it is, right?”

This time she does roll her eyes. “My apologies sir, I didn’t realize I was being such a burden. Do you want me to go?” 

Out of habit she then goes to stand, prompting Vesryn to angrily grip her wrist. “Oh for fuck’s sake —would you please just sit down and tell me where you’ve been?”

Equally as angry, she swears at him under her breath before crossing her arms over her chest. Using the pressure to subdue the need to panic as she tries to collect her thoughts before ultimately ending up with, “Astarion and I were kidnapped.”

Almost immediately she can see the lack of interest in his eyes begin to develop. How they quickly start to glaze over at the mention of Astarion’s name, reminding her just how unenthusiastic he is to hear about him alongside what he assumes is some sort of excuse.

“Obviously, the details are a bit complicated but the gist of it is that we were taken by mind flayers and now we’re trying to find a cure,” she tells him, but again, all he does is stare, his gaze set directly against her’s —devoid of anything other than disinterest and doubt.

Once again, it makes her want to leave. To repeat time and storm out like she did all those weeks ago. As terrible as it sounds, she knows it’d at least get his attention. Maybe even stir him enough to actually listen to what she has to say without immediately discrediting the truth. 

“We met others on the ship. People infected like us. They’re in danger, Ves. I’m in danger.” 

“Aren’t you always?” 

“Not like this,” she tells him, swallowing hard. “Things are different. Bigger.”

He lets out a sigh. “Define big.” 

“The whole city going up in flames big.”

Shifting in his chair, she can tell he’s trying his best not to say what he really wants to. An act that simultaneously fills her with rage and relief as she watches him mull over her words, allowing them to fully sink in before humming in response. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. Explain to me how exactly you’re in danger?” 

Before she can even stop herself, Zayis is telling him everything. Relaying each point of the plot through nervous thoughts and shaking hands. Trying her best to allow enough time in between the more convoluted sections to really process the severity. 

And at first, it’s a struggle. Considering Vesryn’s almost as stubborn as she is, she can tell right off the bat it’s hard for him to accept. After having been convinced of this completely different narrative for so long, she can see it in his eyes he’s struggling to trust what she’s saying. To take all the outlandish things she’s relaying at face value after all the grief she’s put him through. 

But then about halfway through she notices the switch. That subtle moment of realization taking over, forcing him to listen. To hear all the stressors of the last few weeks repeatedly piling on top of her. To understand that the night she left without a trace wasn’t just the result of a conscious choice she had made but rather a mistake in location at the worst possible time. 

By the end of it, he’s got his arms across his chest, one of them angled up so that he can stroke his chin in bewilderment. “Gods, you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Fuck.” He shakes his head. 

In response, all Zayis does is shoot him a tight-lipped smile. One that feels so misplaced that it ends up falling almost immediately. “I just thought you should know, you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I didn’t walk out on you,” she admits, her throat aching from the explanation. “That I still care about you in some way.”

It’s at that point she can tell that Vesryn knows. Written plain as day across his face, she can feel it in her chest, too. Pounding against her already damaged frame. Echoing through the edges of her organs, causing them to twist in discomfort. 

Considering he’s always been a pretty intuitive guy, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to her but still, the second he eventually lets out a huff and awkwardly grins to himself, she can’t help but feel the guilt double in size. Triple even, watching the way he looks around the room, avoiding her pleading eyes. 

“Somehow I always knew,” he says, still smiling. Still shaking his head in protest, as if he can’t quite fully accept it. 

“I know.” 

“You just —you always talked about him, you know? Whether it was about his terrible personality or his disgusting behaviour, it was like his presence was constantly taunting me. Making me feel like the least interesting man in your life.”

“You weren’t—“

“I know,” he cuts her off with a raised hand. Something that would normally make her angry but right now just makes her confused. “It’s just… no matter how negatively you talked about him there was always this passion there. Like everything about him was actually worthy of conversation.” 

Letting out a dry laugh, he pauses to rub his face again, this time groaning through the process. “I guess, I just wanted you to talk about me like that. Just once so that I knew you weren’t getting tired of me.”

It’s at that moment Zayis feels her chest begin to break, the cavity of her ribcage splintering out to stab through her flesh. All at once, it hits the tenderest parts of her, ripping away what little composure she once had —filling her up with that same wave of emotion she’s been avoiding all this time. 

Leaning back in her chair, it immediately prompts her to blink back the threat of tears. As they begin to sting her eyes, she can’t help but focus on the pressure and how it weighs far more than it did when she first entered. How somehow, despite doing what she came here to do, this newfound information Vesryn provides just feels like another problem. Another issue added to the ongoing pile of things she needs to fix but doesn’t know how to. 

Which makes the once subdued panic inside her chest practically explode. Taking the form of shaking hands and shifting eyes, she can feel her breath start to quicken. The sudden lack of air located inside her chest making it difficult for her to breathe. 

Almost immediately Vesryn’s kneeling in front of her as it happens, taking her hands in his while looking up with concern. “It’s okay, Zay,” he tells her. “I’m okay.”

She doesn’t understand how it could be —how he could be after all that she’s done to him. Having fucked off without a single goodbye he should be the wreck who sits at the table, looking like a broken vessel with nothing else to give. The one who mourns for a life they could’ve possibly had if not for bad timing or poor communication or—

“I forgive you, yeah?” 

His voice is soft. A caress of sound that only further fuels her tears, realizing it’s her who’s crumbling. The one who’s broken and tired, unsure whether or not to let this go in favour of pursuing something new. 

“Why?”

“Because I do?” He shrugs. “I don’t know —does there have to be a reason?”

Before coming here she would’ve said no and called it a day. But now that she’s in front of him, debating whether or not she should fight for a second chance, she needs it. More than anything she’s ever needed in her life, she’s willing to demand it if she has to. 

Sensing this, all Vesryn does is sigh. Offering her a subtle nod, he then moves to stand while holding her head, allowing his fingers to gently push against the crown of her skull to calm her down. 

“Once you left I think I realized we were only together because it was familiar,” he says, and immediately she knows he’s right because, near the end, it was as if they were nothing more than two people sharing a space. 

Allowing the convenience of their arrangement to take over, no longer was there that initial spark they once had as kids. The one that drove them to care and want and grow. And because of that, by the time the kidnapping happened, it was obvious that they were well on their way to this same ending.

“I'm sorry, Ves.” 

Before she can even think she’s reaching for his torso, pressing her face against the side of his ribs as she wraps herself around. An act he responds to by hugging her shoulder with one arm, once again telling her it’s okay. 

“I promise we’ll make it out the other side,” he tells her, and somehow despite the cloud of doubt that seems to always circle her head as of late, she believes him. Feeling the truth of his words remind her that even though they’re not the same as they once were, that doesn’t necessarily mean that they can’t still be there for one another. 

“Gods, I hope you’re right because I really don’t think I have the mental capacity to become a mind flayer right now.” 

Somehow that comment manages to break the ice, causing both of them to grin as Vesryn rolls his eyes. “What? Not a fan of tentacles?”

All she does is scrunch up her face. 

“Oh c’mon! Might be fun!” 

“Define fun.” 

Peeling himself away, he wanders over to the kitchen and grabs a bottle off the shelf, placing it in front of Zayis before retreating back to his chair with a shrug. “I don’t know. Don’t they control people with their minds?” 

Almost immediately she reaches for the vessel in front of her, pulling out the cork with a loud pop!

“Sure, but they also eat brains which I’m not necessarily fond of,” she explains, taking a sip of the undisclosed liquid, feeling it burn the second it hits her tongue. 

“I mean, bit of brains never hurt anyone. Especially not you.” 

As she finishes sipping, she shoots him an unimpressed look. One that eventually makes the both of them laugh, prompting her chest to tighten. Her body somehow reminding itself of how easy things used to be.

“I swear if I do turn into a mind flayer you’re the first on my list of brains to eat.” 

“Really? Not the vampire?”

His voice is unnaturally smug as he says it. So much so that she’s almost a little surprised, watching the way he cocks his brow and reaches across the table to take a quick sip of his own. 

“How is he doing anyways?” 

“A bit forward, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. Last I heard though, you’re on borrowed time.” 

Pressing her lips together, she realizes then that he’s right. Now that they’re back in Baldur’s Gate it’s only a matter of time before they have to face their problem head on. A detail she hadn’t quite grasped yet, having been focused on getting here first. 

“He’s fine.”

Without warning Vesryn pushes the bottle across the table, smirking. “Just fine, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Not good? Great? Absolutely per—“

“He’s good,” she practically snaps, taking the few silent beats that pass to down a good portion of their drink.

“That’s good.” Nodding his head, he watches her take a few more sips, forcing back an obviously shit-eating grin. “Treating you well, I hope?”

He waves his hand through the air dramatically and immediately Zayis can’t help but groan and take another sip. Letting the liquid distract her from the roaming thoughts that keep entering her mind —forcing her to remember Astarion’s face and how unimpressed it looked when she left camp.

Somehow it makes her miss him. Despite knowing that she’ll return to his side amongst the others by the time the sun rises, there’s a brief moment where she’s staring at Vesryn that makes her panic. An almost anxious jolt of electricity firing through her nerve endings, causing her to twitch unfortunately in her chair. 

“He’s alright, I guess,” she ends up saying. “Still annoying as ever.”

“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.”

“I’m sure you’d be surprised now, too.”

“What do you mean?”

At first, she isn’t sure what she means. But then she narrows her eyes and thinks really hard for a second, uncovering the truth. “He’s actually, uh, kind of sweet sometimes.”

“Really?”

Almost immediately, the simple confession takes both of them back, prompting Zayis to clear her throat and continue to drink, feeling her head whirl from the volume of liquor she’s managed to consume over the last few minutes; honing in on the sudden interest in Vesryn’s eyes.

“Can you please stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re fishing for something.” 

Suddenly defensive, he scoffs and motions for her to hand over the bottle. “I’m not fishing for anything.” 

“Oh please, don’t think I don’t remember how gossipy of a bitch you are.”

All he does is smile, causing her to pinch the bridge of her nose and breathe, trying her best to remain calm. Because foolishly, now that she’s opened the can of worms that is Astarion, it’s like the man’s completely taken over. Seamlessly appearing in every corner of her exhausted mind, she can’t help but wonder how he’d react to this conversation.

Already she can hear him chastising her for skimping out on the details. Having practically memorized the inflections of his voice after years of endurance, she can clearly envision that cheeky little laugh of his. And how the way his hand might feel pressed against her cheek, taking in the frustrated expression that now coats her face.

The same one Vesryn immediately comments on. Pointing in amusement, he ends up asking her why she looks like that, causing her to cross her arms over her chest and shake her head, too stubborn to reveal the truth. 

“I see you're as emotionally distant as ever.” 

As he speaks, Vesryn just shoots her a knowing glance and slides their shared drink back to her. Barely batting an eye when she takes a few more angry sips.

“Am not.” 

“And childish.” 

For a moment she thinks about repeating history and grabbing the knife from her holster. But then she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, forcing herself to calm down just as Vesryn laughs. 

“Shut up. You’re just saying that so you can get me to talk.”

“Is it working?”

Whether it’s the challenging way he approaches the topic or the familiarity of his presence, it unfortunately is. More so than she cares to admit as she rolls her eyes, opting to avoid the topic by asking him what he’s been up to. Forcing the conversation to pivot as she continues to drink, listening to all the mundane stories of their old life. All the jobs he’s taken and how he’s kept himself busy while she’s been saving the coast. 

And for a while, it’s kind of nice focusing on something else. Something simple and disconnected from the reality that she now finds herself in. So much so that she doesn’t even register the empty bottle now in front of her after Vesryn changes the topic again. This time transitioning to her friends. 

“You said that Ravengard kid was with you?”

Nodding her head, she then feels the entire room begin to spin around her. Echoing out in a series of waves, it’s as if everything’s begun to slow down. Her mind working to catch up with the rest of her surroundings. Somehow it makes her laugh despite how uncomfortable it is. The kind that Vesryn immediately clocks as an indication of her inebriation, making him sigh. 

“Probably shouldn’t have let you drink all that, huh?”

She hums in response and closes her eyes, feeling the weight of everything slowly drift away as her body starts to melt further into the chair. 

“How about I go make you a bed?” 

“No.”

“No?”

She blinks and laughs, forcing her eyes to focus on her friend. “I want to go home.”

“You are home?”

She shakes her head almost violently. “No, home.” 

He doesn’t know that home means camp. Or, more specifically, that home to her is where Astarion is. Nor does he understand the jumble of words that fall from her mouth immediately after. “Zayis, you are way too drunk to be arguing right now.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying!”

He can’t help but laugh as he stands up, moving towards her to help pull her to her feet. “Saying what?”

“I want to see Fangs,” she whines, and before she knows it she’s being guided towards the door by her old flame’s hands without another word. Tiredly leaning against his shoulder as they walk down the darkened street.

“Where am I taking you?”

Through slurred speech she directs him to her camp, explaining the quickest route with the kind of drunken hand gestures Vesryn can’t help but mock. 

“Shut up, I’m drunk.” 

“I can tell.”

“And I’m tired.” 

“No kidding.”

“I think I might be in love, too.”

At that Vesryn stops walking, causing her to sort of bump into his arm and swear under her breath, grumbling about his lack of coordination before the words she’s uttered circle back to her. Forcing her eyes to widen as her stomach starts to twist, realizing what she’s done. Registering the fact that she just admitted out loud that her feelings are valid and not just ridiculous moments of lust clouding her vision.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Despite the context, Vesryn can’t help but laugh, watching as Zayis begins to breathe with her entire chest. The fabric of her tunic rising and falling in rapid succession as her eyes dart back and forth. 

“I think I’m in love with Astarion,” she then says before slamming her lips shut, feeling her face grow hot and her hands begin to sweat. Every part of her body working against her as she suddenly bolts down the street, listening to Vesryn’s footsteps work to keep up. 

“Wait a minute, how long has this been going on?”

Unsurprisingly, Zayis ignores him, swearing under her breath when she comes to a street she doesn’t notice, forcing Vesryn to grab her arm and redirect her. 

“Do you think he loves you back?”

“I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”  

She repeats the same answer in frustration, throwing her hands up to cover her eyes, knowing now she’s fucked. Completely and totally fucked because despite knowing how foolish it is to fall in love with someone like Astarion she’s managed to do just that.

“Okay, well do you want to know?”

He asks the question like it’s a simply gained answer. As if asking Astarion about his feelings is something Zayis can do without feeling humiliated.

Because truthfully, she knows if asked, not only would she be met with that teasing voice of Astarion telling her I told you so regardless of the answer, but she’d also be forced to live with the fact that Vesryn was right all along.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

Quickening her pace, she can feel her legs begin to ache from the events of the day. All of the hours of travelling and fighting piling onto her weakened knees as she pushes forward. 

Watching her struggle, Vesryn follows behind almost cautiously, trying his best not to hover while remaining close. Well aware at any second she might just fall to the ground thanks to the alcohol. 

“I think maybe we should just get you home, yeah? I’m sure your boyfriend is worried sick.” 

Before he can even laugh at his poorly timed joke she’s turning to swing her fist at his head, causing him to grab her wrist in annoyance.

“C’mon Punchy, let’s not keep your leech waiting.”

Frowning in response she allows him then to guide her the rest of the way. Keeping his arm loosely wrapped around her shoulder for support, she dizzily latches onto his side, resting her head against his chest. Trying her best to ignore the sickness that resides at the base of her stomach as they continue forward, eventually making it to camp. 

“You know, this isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

While glaring at Vesryn she can feel her head begin to pound. The space behind her eyes where the tadpole resides ringing out in a painful rhythm of words. All of them loud and irate, saying something she can’t quite understand.

At which point she begins to descend without warning, causing Vesryn to swear and catch her arm, watching anxiously as she moves one hand to her temple.

“Zay?”

When she doesn’t immediately respond he maneuvers her to the ground, kneeling in front of her with nervous hands to hold her face, searching for further signs of distress until she’s completely still again. 

“Sorry, that uh, happens sometimes.”

“What?”

“The tadpoles,” she mumbles, brushing his hands away to rub her eyes, feeling the pain still linger behind them but at a much smaller scale. “Sometimes when one of us gets a bit emotional or something they…” 

As she trails off with a yawn she attempts to mime the word connection by pressing her index fingers together in front of her. A motion Vesryn thankfully understands, nodding his head in response. 

“We don’t—“

The sound of a clearing throat pulls her away from the conversation. Her eyes shifting from Vesryn’s face towards a very pissed-off Astarion now standing in front of them with his hands on his hips. 

“Am I interrupting something?”

Instantly, both she and Vesryn jump to speak, their voices fumbling over each other until Zayis eventually turns back and frowns, prompting Vesryn to innocently raise his hands and stand up. 

“Ves was just bringing me home.”

“At this hour?” Astarion asks, his voice lower than normal. Angrier even. A rumble of sound emanating from his chest as he crouches down to face her —instantly smelling the drink on her breath. “Wait a minute, you’re drunk.”

“Am not,” she slurs, grinning. Expecting him to grin back or crack some sort of joke. Not shift his jaw and stand as he does, moving towards Vesryn faster than she can think to blink. 

“I always knew you were an idiot,” she hears him say, watching him reach for Vesryn’s clothes. Gripping the collar of his shirt with such ferocity that the only sound that Zayis hears after that is the sudden groan her old partner lets out.

Which makes her panic, realizing then that Astarion isn’t just pissed —he’s livid. Red not only in the eyes but also in the face, prompting her to try and stand up only to fall back down thanks to the lightness that travels throughout her head.

“What’d you do to her, huh? Get her drunk and then take advantage of her?”

Trying but ultimately failing to speak over Astarion’s angered assumptions, Zayis eventually opts to reach for the fabric of his pants instead. Pulling at the base of his calf to gain his attention, muttering his name through the mess of sounds until she’s been ushered to her feet by a pair of arms.

“I see the apology’s going well,” Wyll says, and immediately she whips her head to face him in response, taking in the humoured expression across his face before turning back to see the two men being ripped away from each other by Karlach’s brute force. Both of them continuing their attempts at violence. 

“This isn’t how we treat our guest, Fangs,” Karlach scolds, but Astarion’s already cursing Vesryn’s name. Using whatever insult he can think of to throw the poor man’s way. Ignoring Karlach’s plea for him to shut up even when she threatens to knock him out cold if he doesn’t behave.

Which only causes more issues when the rest of the camp begins to realize what’s going on. All of them piling out of their tents to watch this ridiculous display of angry men fighting over an issue neither of them really have much control over. Considering Zayis is drunk and now grumbling into the crook of Wyll’s neck trying her best not to cry at the sight of Karlach shoving Astarion towards Lae’zel, it’s obvious that the best thing to do is drop it. 

Or at least, put a pin in it until morning. Which is exactly what Gale suggests when he wanders towards Lae’zel’s side, smirking at their not-so-friendly vampire before making some sort of backhanded compliment that has Astarion lunging towards him with a hiss. 

“Alright, alright. No need to maim the wizard,” Gale mutters, darting back. “I’m just here for the show not to get roped into any audience participation.” 

After that, Zayis hears Wyll sigh in defeat as he runs his palm along the length of his face, trying his best to comfort her as she continues to wrap herself around him, digging her claws into his clothes while her tail grips tightly onto his legs. 

“I think we should probably get her some water,” he says, prompting Shadowheart to move towards Vesryn, placing a hand on his shoulder as she asks him if he needs any healing.

While shaking his head he ends up glancing over at Zayis who already looks like she’s dead to the world. Still grumbling incoherently under her breath, it’s as if her mind has been turned to sludge as Wyll drags her over to the fire, placing her gently on the ground. Practically forcing a stream’s worth of water down her throat by the time Shadowheart wanders over, casting whatever restoration magic she’s got left. 

“That fool of yours is lucky Karlach showed up when she did,” she mutters, moving to place either hand on Zayis’s face. Allowing the magic to spread through her cheeks like an icy veil, wrapping around heated flesh. Providing the perfect amount of relief for the tadpole behind her eye to settle back into its dormant state. 

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Karlach’s taking him home.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Zayis continues to drink through the process. Feeling the water soothe her aching throat as Shadowheart continues to speak, scolding her for being so stupid. 

“Gods, I can’t believe you let him get you drunk.”

“I didn’t let him do anything,” Zayis snaps, her eyes narrowing in annoyance, watching as her two friends share an unimpressed look. “I got nervous.” 

“And drank an entire bar?”

For some reason that makes Wyll snort, prompting Zayis to reach out and yank his horn, causing the warlock to groan and swat her away. “Hey! She’s right, you know!”

Regardless of whether or not they are, Zayis opts to go silent after. Sitting angrily between the two of them, she lets Shadowheart finish her spell before muttering out a quiet thanks. The kind that Shadowheart almost immediately reciprocates with an unenthusiastic no problem before retreating to her tent. Leaving just herself and Wyll to stew in the awkward silence of her actions as she continues to sip her water. Paying no mind to the curious eyes that dart between the camp and her face, picking apart the expressions that absentmindedly shift the longer she sits.  

“So, uh, do you want to talk about what happened or would you rather wallow?” 

Earning no response, Wyll sighs, prompting Zayis to look over with a frown. Both of them staring at each other, wishing that she’d just come out and say whatever needs to be said instead of rotting away, pretending like her actions are something other than self-inflicted wounds. 

“I promise no judgement, you know.” 

“I know. I’m just —I think I should probably talk to him first.” 

“Not sure he’s interested in talking.” 

Zayis snorts out of habit, moving a hand to rub her eyes, feeling her head swirl. “Fair. I probably wouldn’t want to talk to me either.”

“I’m sure if you give him time,” Wyll suggests, and even though she knows he’s right all she can feel is the lack of patience beginning to settle in. The undeniable urge to jump to her feet and run to his side almost doubling on impact. The temptation to confess all the thoughts that have plagued her mind over the last few weeks making their presence known.

It forces her to chug a few more glasses of water in silence. Trying her best to remain as rational as possible. Or at least, until she’s able to fully stabilize her thoughts in the form of a pros and cons list that Wyll almost immediately interrupts. 

“I know you say you are, but are you truly alright?”

At first, she doesn’t have an answer. Too focused on trying to figure out whether it’s a pro or a con to storm into Astarion’s tent, she hardly registers the words. Instead finding herself at a mental crossroads, debating the level of sobriety needed to confess one’s love before it becomes insulting. But then her mind catches up. Slowly but surely taking in the words. Feeling the genuine curiosity in his voice sound almost paranormal. As if he’s already used the tadpole to burrow into her mind and find the answer for himself.

Not that he’d need to, to know that she’s the opposite of alright. 

Even before arriving, she’d been on the absolute edge of sanity. Struggling to choose which battle to tackle first, since entering the walls of Baldur’s Gate it’s felt like she’s been pulled every which way. Slowly becoming stretched to the point of ripping. 

Which she wants to admit. But thanks to the guardedness of her brain, all she’s able to say is that she’s tired. That the well within her soul has sufficiently dried up leaving nothing more than a hole in the ground, waiting for its fill once again. 

With a sigh, Wyll slides a little closer and nudges her leg, offering support in whatever way he can as she glances at him, silently pleading for advice. 

“You need to rest, Zay.”

Genuinely curious, she looks at him with half-lidded eyes. The glassy look of drunkenness still heavily visible. “How?”

“By allowing your problems to run their course rather than trying to direct them yourself.”

Leaning forward, she groans into her hands. The emptiness of her head making it hard for her to understand the riddles Wyll often speaks in. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

Letting out a soft laugh, his hand finds its way to one of her horns to reciprocate that same push from earlier, forcing her to grumble under her breath. 

“It means you should go to bed.”

Groaning in response, she debates whether or not to argue, feeling her eyes shift towards Astarion’s tent —feeling that inevitable pull behind her eye, begging for her to curl up against his frame regardless of whatever fight might unfold. 

“Okay. But not because you told me too,” she eventually says, and Wyll just smiles and ushers her to her feet, forcing one final glass of water into her hand. 

“One more for the road, okay?”

All she does is nod her head and slowly make her way towards the tent. Staring intensely at the ground beneath her, she maneuvers around roots and rocks, trying her best not to let the remnants of leftover inebriation overtake her ability to function. 

Which proves easy up until she makes it to the tent. Feeling her vision shift in and out of focus as she attempts to push open the flap, there’s a moment where she sways back and has to catch herself, causing her lips to part into an awkward squeal. 

“What the hells are you doing?” Astarion says, and before she can even think to correct her footing she’s somehow pressed against his chest with her glass of water nowhere to be seen. Her body suddenly feeling warm thanks to the way his hands snake around her waist, tightly gripping the flesh beneath her shirt. Reminding her that despite the intimate position she finds herself in, he’s definitely still unimpressed. 

“How come you’re mad?” 

His eyes narrow, becoming two thin slits of rage that successfully scare her into submission, prompting her to swallow hard and sit up on her knees, feeling his hands tighten even more. “Are you seriously asking me that?” 

Following her lead, he forces himself to release her waist in order to lean into her, practically pressing his forehead against hers. “I mean, honestly, do you have any sense of self-preservation or do you just choose to act like an idiot?”

Immediately she blinks, processing his words. Marinating in the meaning until she fully understands. “You know, Vesryn isn’t an enemy —he’s a friend.”

“I’d argue otherwise, but I suppose your choice in friends has always been questionable.” 

Feeling the liquor rush through her system, she quickly reaches out to grab his shoulder, steadying herself against the sway that overtakes. Fully pressing her forehead against his despite wanting nothing more than to wrap her hand around his skinny little neck and—

“You didn’t tell me you were going to see him.”

Her mouth opens to respond —to tell him that it doesn’t matter— but then she stops, pulling away to explore the hurt expression across his face. Specifically the focused look within his eyes that fail to falter for even a second. 

“I didn’t think I had to.” 

“I suppose you don’t but—” 

“But what then?”

“But a courtesy would’ve been nice,” he practically snaps. “Or a simple warning at the very least —I think I deserve at least that.”

She looks at him confused then. Unsure what exactly he means, her lips part to ask, watching as his expression slowly matches hers. Both of them staring in anticipation for an answer that never comes. 

“You know I just went there to talk, right?” Her voice struggles through the fog that hits her head, causing her to frequently pause between words. “I didn’t go there to do whatever it is you’re…”

Trailing off, she wiggles her fingers, trying her best to insinuate that whatever assumptions he has are wrong. And that he’s being stupid, but she’s too drunk to incorporate that accordingly. 

So instead, she just settles for the former, watching the way his nose scrunches up, pulling at his upper lip to reveal the tips of his fangs. An expression that makes her wonder if maybe her words aren’t matching up with her thoughts, prompting her to sigh and move her hands to her face. 

“Fuck, I’m too drunk for this.” 

“Yeah, that’s becoming apparent.” 

For some reason that makes her laugh weakly. “I just… I don’t want to fight anymore. Not for this.”

“Then what do you want to fight for?” 

Pushing her hands further into the sockets of her eyes, she feels her head pound in frustration. All of her thoughts piling to the forefront of her mind, screaming at her to settle this once and for all. To tell him that she doesn’t want to fight anymore. To say that, instead of pressing their knives to each other’s throats time and time again, all she wants to do is toss them aside and kiss the scars they’ve inflicted. 

But because she’s drunk —because she can’t think without the whole process becoming far more difficult than it should be— all she does is move into him. Allowing her body to speak for itself in the form of a desperate hug, she wraps her arms around his shoulder before he guides her down into the bedroll. 

“Alright, easy does it, darling,” Astarion grumbles, his angered tone failing to match the sweetness of his words, prompting Zayis to frown and turn her back to him. 

“Don’t call me that. I’m mad at you.” 

“Since when?”

“Since you decided to be mad at me for no reason,” she says, causing Astarion to huff as he begins to run his fingers through the roots of her hair —feeling the familiar presence of her tail slowly wrap around his thigh. 

“Once again, I’d argue such a statement but clearly you’re too far gone to be able to defend yourself.” 

“Fuck you, I can do anything.”

“Agree to disagree.” 

“Agree to —shut up, Astarion.” 

Releasing a heavy sigh, he reluctantly continues his ministrations despite the abuse. Pressing the pads of his fingers deeply into the base of her skull. 

“Go to sleep, Zay. We can fight in the morning.”

In response, she grumbles out in protest. Ultimately failing to convey her disinterest as his fingers lower to the back of her head, following the line of her braid until he hits the end and begins to undo it. Then, with careful hands he works his way back up, feeling her slowly drift beneath his touch.

“Gods, sometimes I wonder if loving you is even worth the headache,” he tells her, unaware of the sliver of consciousness that manages to linger. Even when she nervously stirs at his words, wondering if she heard him correctly. 

Because there’s no way he loves her, right? Too focused on what he gains from being around her rather than her herself, there’s not a single chance he cares. That’d be impossible. Unthinkable. An admittance so beyond logic that as she lays there, eyes shut tight, she has to force herself to ignore it. To chalk his strange confession up to the liquor poisoning her mind with outlandish thoughts. 

Which thankfully isn’t hard given how drunk she still is. In fact, with very little effort, it only takes a few minutes of Astarion’s fingers moving through her hair to fully render her useless. Her body curling under the blanket, unaware of the restlessness Astarion experiences as the hours pass. Oblivious to the fact that, even before she wakes up, he’s already gone. 

Becoming nothing more than a vacant space that leaves her confused when she eventually rolls over hours later, groaning at the pain that rips through her skull, remembering everything that happened. Specifically, the words he may have said to her last night —the ones so far from reality that she can’t help but wonder if it was merely just a figment of her imagination. 

Hearing them echo in her mind, she palms the sockets of her eyes and sits up, feeling the aches and pains of the previous hours seep into her bones. Taking refuge in her muscles to the point that not even she can deny how much of a struggle it is to crawl around the sun-kissed tent, searching for the cup of water Wyll gave her last night before downing it in one huge gulp. 

Unsurprisingly it feels like a gift from every God combined. A blessing of liquid that provides her with enough energy to shakily crawl through the opening of the tent, squinting at the newfound light that hits her face.

Somehow it’s already sunrise. Even though it felt like she was maybe asleep for a couple of minutes, it’s obvious now that she got at least a few hours in. Something she’s thankful for as she wanders over to the pile of supplies by the put-out fire, rooting through the various bags until she finds a canteen of water. 

At which point she begins to drink and aimlessly walk, forcing her tired legs to move through the length of the camp and past the tree line, weaving through the obstacles of nature until she’s standing at the edge of a hill. 

Looking up, there’s a moment or two where she debates turning back. But then her body starts to move without warning, pushing her further and further past the threshold of capability she should have after a night of heavy drinking and emotional warfare. Disregarding the burn that envelops practically every fibre of her being until she hits the top.

Then she’s doubling over in pain, on the verge of tears, feeling the desire to give up filter through her determination, making her second guess her actions until she hears someone huff. 

“You look like a corpse,” Astarion says. “And not a fresh one either.”

Forcing out a laugh, she squints to see him sitting on a stump a few feet away with a mug of tea in his hand —another at his side like always. “Morning to you, too.” 

“Morning.”

His voice is quiet as he turns to look at the rising sun. Ignoring her as she moves toward him, taking the cup that rests beside him into her hands before she sits in its place. “Thanks.”

Surprisingly, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he just sips the tea and continues to soak in the light as he often does. Paying no mind to Zayis as she takes a sip of her own, staring at the side of his face.

“Did you rest at all?”

All he does is shake his head. 

“When did you leave?”

“Not long after you fell asleep.” 

Humming in response, she turns away to look at the sky herself, allowing her mind to drift to last night. Hearing that single word uttered over and over again in her mind until it doesn’t sound like a word at all. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends.” 

Releasing an annoyed breath, she takes another sip before she continues. “Always does, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm.”

After that, she sees him sort of smirk against the edge of his cup, prompting her to quietly groan and ditch the idea altogether. Feeling the walls of her heart begin to make their way up again —discarding whatever idea might’ve crossed her mind to even think about letting them down in the first place. 

Something Astarion immediately notices. Having failed to ask her question, he quickly turns to face her, exploring her features —noticing the sudden lack of curiosity that immediately befalls her face. “That’s it then?”

“What?”

“No question? No pretty little morning argument?”

She looks at him confused, her jaw dropping slightly open. 

“Not even a single threat relating to bodily harm?”

“I—“

“My, my, have you gone soft or something, darling?” he asks; his tone changing. Morphing to have this venomous quality, Zayis immediately scoffs at. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns away, pretending like there’s no reasoning behind his words. Acting as if there's no fight to pick despite there very clearly being one.

“You know, if you have a problem with my behaviour you can just come out and say it instead of waiting for me to figure it out myself.” 

In response, he lets out quite possibly the fakest laugh she’s ever heard. “I could. Though, we both know that even if you did figure it out, you wouldn’t talk about it anyway. You don’t do emotions.”

“Neither do you.”

“Actually I—“

Without warning she stands up to chuck the mug over the edge of the hill, groaning from the pain of her muscles —trying her best to ignore the way they pull in strange ways as she turns to glare in his direction. “No, you know what? You don’t get to act like an asshole just because you’re mad that I didn’t tell you I was seeing Vesryn!”

“Oh, please, I’m not mad about that!” Standing up, he discards his mug on the stump and takes a step forward. Inserting himself into her space, watching her follow his lead until they’re practically nose to nose. “What I’m mad at is your lack of attention —for your inability to look around and see what you so clearly deserve!”

“Deserve?” Pressing a rough hand to his chest, she forces him back only to step forward, watching his eyes narrow in annoyance —his hands darting out to grip her wrists once she’s close enough. “You think this mistreatment is what I deserve?”

As she struggles against his hold, both of them bare their teeth in frustration. Neither one of them willing to admit their respective thoughts until Astarion’s eventually the first to cave, growling under his breath.

“No, but sometimes I think you believe that,” he says, his voice lowering. The sound of it reverberating through his chest like an avalanche Zay can’t help but stand at the bottom of, wondering when she’ll inevitably perish beneath it. 

Because that’s what it feels like sometimes, being around him. Oftentimes while attempting to navigate all the feelings that erupt each time he picks a fight, she has to hear things she doesn’t want to. To listen to the truth time and time again, despite wanting nothing more than to run from it. Almost every time it makes her breathless, hearing the way he picks her soul apart each time she gives him the chance. Feeling fine one moment and lost the next as he continues to speak. 

“Is that why you won’t talk to me? Why, despite all the times I’ve confided in you, you refuse to offer the same in return? Because you’re punishing yourself?”

Taking it all in, her gaze flickers down to his hands, watching them slip up her wrists, slowly moving to turn her palms to the sky so that he can gently rest his own on top. Inhaling deeply, it’s as if the weight of them are suddenly all over her body. Pressing roughly against her chest and arms —grabbing hold of her feet so that they keep her in place despite wanting nothing more than to run. To swallow whatever pride she has left and disappear for good. 

To pretend like he isn’t working up to some huge confession despite wanting nothing more.  

“Zayis?”

“What?”

She doesn’t mean to snap. But regardless, the word comes out like a bite, latching onto his throat. The tips of them diving into his flesh before he can even think to recoil. 

It makes him falter for a second. The entirety of his body twitching against the rise of her voice before he eventually puffs back up again, sighing so hard the only thing she feels afterward is the echo of his breath. 

“Gods, for once will you just fucking talk to me?” he then pleads, gripping the base of her fingers so tightly she ends up wincing. “Please.” 

“What do you want me to say, Astarion? That I’m punishing myself because I’m scared?”

“If that’s the reason, yes!”

“And what if I don’t know the reason?”

“Then—“

Suddenly, she rips her hands from his to move them to her face, pressing the pads of her fingers roughly against her temples. Shakily circling the flesh as she heavily exhales, trying to collect her thoughts as he takes another step forward, tugging her close by the waist. Forcing his fingers beneath the hem of her untucked shirt. 

“Tell me then. Are you punishing yourself because you feel guilty for what you’ve done? Or are you punishing me because the mere thought of either of us deserving each other is too much to bear?” 

It’s the kind of question that has her fearing for her life. Regardless of how many enemies she’s fought over the past few weeks. As she stares into Astarion’s eyes, watching the deep red rings nearly disappear behind narrowed lids, she has to force herself to stay. Knowing that if she doesn’t, she’ll just wind up back where she started: all alone, wishing just once she could have something real.

Because with Vesryn, it never was. Despite the adoration that still presents itself each time they’re together, that’s all it ever really grew to become. Two people admiring each other for reasons unrelated to love. Not people who fought tooth and nail just to earn the bare minimum. People who, despite everyone telling them to quit while they’re ahead, continued to choose each other above all else. 

Which makes looking at Astarion that much harder. As he bears his soul in his own way, asking her for something in return, it makes her realize that the reason she fears so much isn’t because she feels guilty for abandoning Vesryn but because she fears the judgement of it. Always self-critical of her own actions thanks to the scrutiny of her upbringing, it’s hard to look at what’s in front of her and not assume the worst. Considering they already bring out the worst in each other pretty much constantly, it’s obvious there’s always been some reservations. Despite being fully aware of their similarities and the chemistry that presents itself when needed, at all times there always seems to be a voice at the back of her mind telling her she’s stupid for thinking things might work out.

Because honestly, it probably won’t. Not with the way Astarion’s looking at her with those eyes or the way he’s practically clawing at her hips, begging for her to stay. Coaxing her into this false world where the two of them fall in love and get the happy ending neither of them really deserves. 

It isn’t realistic. Or truthful in any way, which is why when she speaks she doesn't lie or even coat the truth in honeyed words. 

“I don’t feel guilty,” she starts, dropping her hands to gently hold the crook of his elbows —feeling her tail follow behind and absentmindedly slink around his waist. “Ves and I —we weren’t good together.”

“Why?”

She looks away, pursing her lips as he nudges her closer. Pulling her eyes back in almost immediately. Keeping her there with him no matter what. “We never had this.”

“And what is this?”

“Lust? Love? I don’t...”

Trailing off, she shakes her head and closes her eyes, hearing that voice inside her head telling her this is wrong. That he and her and everything shared over the last few weeks has been nothing but a ploy. A tactic used to get what he needs out of her before he—

He interrupts her thoughts by grabbing her chin. Running his thumb along the space just below her lip, he then cocks his head and sort of smiles. “This isn’t just lust, you know,” he tells her, and suddenly it’s like she’s back at the tiefling party again, catching his gaze between moments of mingling, unable to deny the mutual attraction as he inevitably flirts his way beneath her clothes.

“It isn’t?”

Softly, his finger rises to touch her lower lip. Pulling it down ever so slightly, she sees his lips part into a toothy grin that has her heavily breathing, wondering if this is it. The moment she completely falls apart into his arms with no escape plan. The one where he says those magic little words and she falls headfirst into the palm of his hand.

“Not anymore.”

“Then… what is it now?” 

Whether it’s because he doesn’t know or he wasn’t expecting her to ask, Astarion’s rendered speechless. With his mouth partially open in surprise, not a sound comes out once the question is asked, prompting Zayis’s stomach to twist into knots so far beyond untangling that she honestly feels like she might pass out. 

Because of the sheer anticipation alone, she’s already struggling to breathe. Feeling her lungs begin to cave under the pressure of his silence, she finds herself acting before thinking. Moving before speaking. Granting herself the chance to take matters into her own hands as they rise to cup his cheeks. 

Beneath her fingertips, he feels colder than she remembers. Stinging her digits like slabs of carved-out ice, she lets her thumbs trail over the peaks and valleys of his face —exploring the highest points of his cheekbones down to the hollowness of his under-eyes. Memorizing every part with careful hands. Watching his expression change as she begins to lean in, bumping the tip of her nose against his before letting out the shakiest breath that’s probably ever existed. 

“Well, whatever it is, I hope it’s worth the headache,” she then says, feeling his hand slip from her chin to wrap around the back of her head. Both of them moving in to cross the one boundary that’s never been crossed. Neither of them caring that in the process their fangs knock haphazardly together before quickly finding their rhythm. 

Which surprises her if she’s honest. After always feeling like they’re on opposing sides, for a moment it doesn’t make much sense to her. As his lips gently shift to slot themselves against hers, it shouldn’t feel this perfect. It should be difficult like everything else. A battle of power and tension. Not easy. Not like she’s breathing or walking or driving a knife into someone’s chest. 

No, it should be harder than this. More complicated. A process so painstakingly awful that her mind should be telling her it isn’t worth it and run.

Except she can’t, can she? Not when his hands feel like they’re moulded to her frame —how his palms seem to rest perfectly against her head and hip, still pulling her in. All while slowly devouring her mouth with careful nips and licks that have her practically clawing for more. Her hands exploring his neck and hair, unable to choose which spot to settle into. 

It makes him grin against her, prompting her to frown in response, not sure why he finds the act so funny. Or why he ends up pulling away so quickly afterward, brushing away loose hairs that have fallen in front of her face. 

“Bit rude of you to throw my own words back in my face like that.” 

Almost angrily she reaches down to grip the collar of his shirt, attempting to shut him up with another kiss but failing when he grabs her wrist. 

“Greedy little thing.”

“Shut up.” 

In response, he hums in amusement and leans in to graze her ear with his lips. “One taste and you’re already begging for more, hm?”

“Gods, you’re insufferable.” 

“And you’re just pathetic, aren’t you?”

His lips peel into a smirk that has her angrily maneuvering him back to her mouth, digging her fingers into the roots of his hair as well as his shirt —ignoring the way he laughs through another hum while giving in. 

A laugh that has her heart foolishly swelling against her ribcage, threatening to burst as he begins to drag her down towards the ground, neither one of them caring how the dirt instantly clings to their clothes or how itchy the grass feels against their exposed skin, because right now, all they care about is this. These somewhat tender moments spent discarding shirts and pants —both of them awkwardly laughing through the mess of limbs that bump against each other in the process.

Somehow, all of it feels too good to be true. Having waited years to properly feel his hands trailing up the length of her spine and his teeth nipping at her flesh as she rests on top, it feels like a projection of her desires come to life. The way he palms the back of her head, guiding his mouth to a particularly supple part of her neck. 

It immediately makes her eyes flutter shut, waiting for the moment he decides to strike. Becoming nothing more than teeth and hands working to take their fill. As she lies on top of him, breathing so hard she’s certain she's probably damaged her lung in the process, she can feel his tongue teasing the area. Poking out to coat her skin in saliva before he presses another opened-mouth kiss and pulls away.

“Can I?” he asks, and before she can even think she’s nodding mindlessly. Allowing whatever he wants to happen because the fight’s died out. Whatever need she once had to hold power over him lost the moment he smiles and kisses her lips, sucking away her air before he does the same with her blood.

At which point she’s almost certain she’s going to pass out. With the lack of oxygen and now that familiar pain plunging into the side of her neck, it’s a miracle that she’s still able to stabilize her body. As he begins to push in, she can’t help but jump from the contact, realizing how different it feels in comparison to something like her wrist. 

Because despite having experienced the sharpness of his teeth followed by the languid lapping of his tongue against far less intimate places, this feels completely different. More euphoric and intense —something she has to push through as the pain begins to meld into pleasure as the seconds pass.

Which isn’t all that difficult. Not when they’re holding onto each other for dear life, every so often shifting to get a better angle. Moaning under their breaths for different reasons despite sharing the experience. No longer trying to suppress the feelings that stir when Astarion inevitably pulls away, dripping in blood that she immediately moves to wipe away. 

“You eat like a starved boar,” she says, trying not to giggle at the way he chases her blood-stained fingers, somehow still desperate for more. 

“And you moan like a banshee.”

“I do not!”

Without warning he begins to mock the sound of her voice, throwing his head back, causing her to press her palm fully over his mouth. 

“Do you ever stop?”

His voice doesn’t carry through her hand so she reluctantly drops it, giving him a pointed look only to receive another grin. “Only if you want me to,” he then says, and almost immediately she feels her face begin to heat up, realizing that she doesn’t. That instead of stopping and taking a second to talk or even breathe all she wants is more. 

So, she responds with another kiss. Not caring about the taste of her blood on his lips or the desperate way she falls slack against his chest, feeling him twitch against her. As she licks the seam of his mouth right open, hungrily pushing her tongue to meet his own, she doesn’t care that he’s adjusting her hips. Grabbing hold of her flesh to position her over the tip of his cock.

With nothing but the sensations of their bodies hurriedly working to become one, she hardly registers anything other than the head teasing her folds, failing to fully enter since she keeps squirming. Something she doesn’t register until he bites her lip a bit too hard, prompting her to pull away and narrow her eyes, watching him frown. 

“Stop moving,” he says, but like always she ignores him, moving whatever way her body decides is right until he’s angrily groaning and turning them over, pinning her against the grass. “Brat.”

“Asshole.” 

He leans in to steal another kiss while using his hands to hold down her hips, feeling her grind against him. “Thorn in my side,” he mutters. 

His voice vibrates against her mouth in a way that has her absolutely reeling. Forcing her hands to dip down to his chest, tracing the carvings of his muscular structure as her tail wraps tightly around his thigh. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

“Pretty?” Somehow he sounds surprised. “Is that a genuine compliment?”

“Maybe.”

He hums and releases one of her hips, moving to grip his cock, giving it a few tentative strokes before lining himself up again. “Care to grace me with another one?”

Once again teasing her entrance, she finds herself shifting upwards, chasing the high of him. Following his sex in absolute misery trying to get him to give in without the need for praise.

“Or perhaps I should give that mouth something else to do?” 

Before she can even think of a clever response he’s moving in. Slowly dragging through her, making sure that the process of it all is almost painful due to its lack of speed. Stretching her out, there’s a brief moment where she has to reach for his arms. To tether herself to him in some other way as he moves just shy of the hilt, leaning down to grin. 

“I’m not hearing any words coming out of that mouth of yours.”

At first, she breaths, adjusting to the feeling of him slipping inside. Trying her best not to focus on the way she instinctively clenches around as she grits her teeth. 

“C’mon now,” he coos. Then ever so slightly he pulls back, dragging the pleasure out of her throat in the form of a moan. 

“Fuck, I love you,” she says, and immediately they both freeze. Neither one of them able to fully register the words until she opens her mouth again, stuttering out an apology. Scrambling to sit up and backtrack only to find herself being pinned back down and taken over.

Before she can even think the wicked snap of his hips quickly becomes enough of a distraction to forget what she just said. Thanks to the way he abruptly pushes and pulls only to slow it all down, it’s as if the regret evaporates into thin air. The phrase itself turning nothing more than a memory as she lets her hands roam across his back.

Now pressed against her, she feels his palm circle around to the base of her spine to create an arch. Providing both of them with a more comfortable angle for him to rut inside her, hardly caring that his pace has fallen out of time. No longer thinking about the finer details. 

Moving in tandem, their lips part so that she can finally breathe, showcasing the stains of blood that cover the lower half of her face, prompting Astarion to smile. 

“You’re perfect,” he tells her. “Better than perfect.” 

And in the moment, she’s tempted to ask what that means. Or to poke some sort of fun in return, but there’s too much happening. The overwhelming sensations of his cock and hands and the way her entire stomach jumps at the sound of his words becoming far more important than her habit of gaining the last word. 

Which only helps build the tension between her thighs. As he continues to jut forward only to slip back, suddenly there’s an additive of movement against her clit. The presence of trailing knuckles brushing, moving much slower than his hips. 

Almost lazily, they glide across her nerves in circles, steadily adding to the collection of pressure. Forcing the pulsing stack of pleasure she feels to become too much as she lets out a pathetic whine.

It’s the kind that has him falling apart. No longer able to keep any sort of pace at all, it’s as if he’s suddenly lost in the dark, struggling to maintain the path set out before him. Forgetting all about past instincts as drops to her chest, kissing her face and neck —licking away remnants of blood before continuing down. 

“Don’t stop,” she says, and even though she wouldn’t put it past him for doing so out of spite, she’s thankful he doesn’t. Instead, discarding all semblance of sense to guide her over the edge. 

Applying a rough bite to the top of one of her breasts, it’s at that moment that Zayis feels the scales tip in her favour. Manifesting in violent tremors that wreak havoc throughout her body, it’s as if she’s lying against the shore, letting the waves lap at her skin. Allowing their strength to pull her in without protest. 

Still above her, she can feel Astarion continuing. Too wrapped up in the feeling of her walls contracting on instinct, he sometimes falters but refuses to quit. Unable to stop even when she’s trying to pull away, the sensation of her orgasm becoming too much.

Because the feeling of that combined with the way he’s touching her —the way he’s pressed against her, practically consuming her skin with his sharp teeth— is hedonistic. An act of pure indulgence that has her joining it, allowing her tail to tangle around his waist as he continues to fuck her through her climax. Forcing her fingers to find a home in his hair, coaxing sweet sounds of pleasure from his pretty little lips. 

“Come for me,” she tells him then, pressing a kiss to his head, watching his neck crane upwards to capture her gaze as he heeds her call, quickly spilling out inside her cunt. No longer able to suppress the shakes that rattle against her thighs, she lets out a soft laugh.

Which prompts him to look up at her in confusion after he’s finally settled down. Noticing the warmth of her features just staring at him. “What?”

Almost immediately, she bites back a grin, trying her best not to make some obscene sound when he eventually slips out of her and falls to her side. “Nothing.”

Now on his back against the grass, he narrows his eyes at the sky above before glancing back over, shaking his head at her comment. Reaching out to playfully smack her face to the side before releasing a sigh. 

“You’re lucky I love you too,” he says, staring at her face —watching it quickly dart his way with widened eyes and parted lips. An obvious lack of thought gracing her mind until everything comes flooding back. 

Then all at once, every reservation disappears. Every hesitation or doubt ceasing to exist the moment she sees the subtle smirk that spreads. How it renders her beyond uselessness, unable to reply let alone breathe. 

“Rendered speechless?” he then teases, using what little energy he has left to prop himself up and lean over her, brushing his nose against hers. Letting the skin-on-skin contact further fluster her system. “That’s new.”

Greedily, she raises her head to kiss him. “So is telling me you love me.”

“So is…”

He trails off, unable to come up with a viable answer, prompting her to smirk back. 

“Gotcha.”

In response he reaches down to pinch her hip, making her squeal. “Careful now or I might put that mouth to better use.”

“Mm, maybe you should,” she teases, but before he can respond there’s a rustle in the bushes, prompting them both to stop in their tracks as they look down the path, noticing a familiar elf stepping towards them. 

Which makes Zayis swear under her breath. Pushing Astarion away, she hears him make a sound of disappointment as she scrambles for her clothes, tossing her tunic over her head before moving to stand —stopping at her knees when she sees Halsin look their way. 

“Ah, I see you two have decided to patch things up the old fashioned way,” he comments, smiling between the two of them. Failing to care about the state of their dress before he continues to walk past them with the gentle wave of his hand, causing Astarion to snort. 

“You know Halsin doesn’t—“

She tosses her pants at his head before he can finish, grumbling in embarrassment as he throws the fabric aside, once again pinning her against the grass with a rough kiss.

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjfchk @idiotsatan @bluestuesday @bloopthebat @art-by-greenie @heneralmoon @sukunababe @dreamingaboutyousworld @ranfithegood @haniscrying @liadamerondjarin @the-lake-is-calling @marina-and-the-memes @rookieoftheyear @zraloci-cpr @kaetmo @snickerdoodle-daydream @wowowwild @d1anna @raswiet @conniesbbymama @venus-wrts @demonicthorns @kihten @sanscas @spammypasta @leighsartworks216 @rose-gold-blue @p1ssmagg0t @hellish-writes @ghostinvenus @otayz @sexysquatch @sleepyeclair @colorful-anxieties @alina-exe @lillifer @girlwiththepapatattoo @acelin-ginsberg @pinkuranium @catrad0rable @scarletrosesposts @qwnamidala @itsrosebabe @bunnyperi @queenofcarrotflowers-s @tatumadams20 @spkyxszn @chlort @f3v3rs @awkwardwookie @joy-the-reader @warm-milk-with-honey-blog @vertigocrime @iyis @wildpiper @pebblethestone @tillywasneverhere @bex-03 @revemiya @staticspouse @itzagothamcitysiren

(tags continued in reblogs)

[childrensward]

New series in my journal I'm starting called "Lil' Critic Reviews" where I review some of my favourite things! These are some of my favourite shows!

Text version under cut;

Toopy & Binoo

I know the visual style and animation really isn't that appealing, but it's a very important childhood comfort show for me. I see myself in Binoo a lot, and Toopy is the exact kind of person I'd want caregiving for me, so it's very cathartic to explore this dynamic through the show.

Thomas The Tank Engine

There's nothing I can say that would truly capture how much I adore this show (and the original Railway Series books too!) I think the model engines are the most adorable things I've ever seen and I love the set designs, and I love that, even though this is a series about talking trains, it still feels like Sodor is a real place that any kid can visit while still being whimsical. It bridges the gap between realism and one's imagination.

Gabby's Dollhouse

A newer show that I feel is highly underrated, and by the same creators of Blue's Clues! Gabby's Dollhouse feels almost like a spiritual successor, where instead of a man and his cartoon dog, it's a teenaged girl and her dollhouse of toy kitties who come to life! It's such a fun and colourful show with a lot of songs that are sure to get stuck in your head, please try it out sometime!!

Elmo's World

I'm putting this one instead of the main Sesame Street show because the networks I grew up on here in Canada didn't have Sesame Street at the time, but they sure did have Elmo's World! I love that everything in his world (except for him and Dorthey) is drawn out of crayons (and, according to Elmo, there might not be a way out of Elmo's World!) It's such a funny and cute show, I love it!

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

This show is so nostalgic for me!!! I think Lauren Faust is an incredible artist and I adore how her style really shines through in this show with the visuals. The characters are also so memorable and have made themselves pop culture icons. I also really like the world-building in the show, even if it's sometimes very messy and contradicts itself…

Bluey

This one's a mandatory one, but Bluey really is a beautiful show. So beautiful in fact, that I can't watch it for very long, otherwise I get so emotional from how healthily the Heeler family is depicted. They're far from being perfect, but they love each other, and it makes me so happy that the kids growing up today have a show like Bluey that shows them what a supportive and healthy family looks like.

Bob The Builder

This is one I'm starting to get back into, but I really love it hehe… I think the thing I love about it the most is the fact that each of the construction vehicles look like you could pick them up and play with them, and everything in their world is built like it was crafted by a kid! I also think Pilchard and Dizzy are adorable!!!

Pikwik Pack

Another show that I feel is highly underrated is Pikwik Pack! Through land, sea, and air, this crew of critters will make sure that any package gets delivered! I adore the visuals and artwork in this show- simple, yet so memorable and inspiring. It's pretty formulaic, so if it's perfect for when I want something reliable to watch.

[prettyboybuckley]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @saybiwithme @bi-buckrights @zainclaw

How many works do you have on ao3?

160

What's your total ao3 word count?

1,070,239

What fandoms do you write for?

I've mostly written for 9-1-1, though I started off with Shameless (6 fics) and I have written some for Teen Wolf (5 fics). There's one 9-1-1 crossover with Schitt's Creek.

Top five fics by kudos:

parents always yelling (telling us to get our acts together)

i just want something to hold on to (and a little of that human touch)

I will come to you (even in my sleep)

open up again (i believe in second chances)

exes and the oh's

Do you respond to comments?

Always, even if it takes me months. I actually just caught up again (there's still a bunch to go, but right now the oldest is 17 days ago instead of 250 days...). It's just a rule I have for myself, and even with the backlog I've kept it up so far, so I'm not going to stop doing it now.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm not a big fan of angsty endings, I generally try to at least make it a hopeful ending or, in the case of the college au, use an epilogue to fix things.

But I guess sunny skies & summer highs qualifies as an angsty ending simply because of the cliffhanger (and yes, there is still going to be a continuation, I'm working on it 🙈).

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Choosing one out of 160 is really hard, but I think tell me, will you stay or will you run away is definitely one that deserves a mention here, because it already has a happy ending and then the epilogue just makes it even better 🥰

Do you get hate on fics?

Not commented on the fic itself, no. I've had some people talk shit about my fics on twitter, though, and not even vaguely but calling me by (user)name.

Do you write smut?

Is grass green? Yeah, I write smut 🤭 Thanks to two times kinktober, I have 95 explicit fics, by far the most used rating for my fics.

Craziest crossover:

let's have some fun tonight is my 9-1-1/Schitt's Creek crossover fic for 9-1-1 Rarepair Week, and my only crossover fic

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

My head over feet Buddie valentine's two-parter got posted as one chapter in Wattpad work with over 30 fics once. Filed a DMCA and Wattpad took it down within two hours.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Two of my fics have been translated into Russian afaik, one on ao3 and one on Ficbook

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Nope. It may be a nice challenge for the future? Not sure who I'd do it with.

All time favourite ship?

Gotta go for Buddie on that one, lol. Especially if you look at my writing history. But I often tend to hyperfixate on one ship at a time (current reading obsession is McDanno)

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Buck's POV of if love is art then you might be my masterpiece. I really want to, but at this point it's been two years since the original so I don't know if it'd be worth it either. (I know not everyone was happy about how I ended it, but I doubt any of them are still waiting for more). Writing a different POV of the same fic takes an amount of planning that my brain just really struggles with. And I could pick up where the last chapter (before the epilogue) picks up, but I think that way there would be some crucial information about Buck missing.

What are your writing strengths?

I've been told quite a lot of times that I am good at keeping characters, well, in character, even when putting them in partial or complete AU's. Of course, what is in character or not is subjective, but I do always challenge myself to work as much of the canon backstory and personality into who they are in the AU as possible.

And I like to think I'm pretty good at writing smut.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm terrible at pacing, which multiple of my long fics prove. It'll be drawn out first and then suddenly rushing. And being ESL I do struggle with things like sentence structure and grammar pretty regularly still.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

As long as there is some kind of translation provided somewhere I like it, but I'm not so quick to use it myself. Not beyond a few Spanish words here and there (generally pet names between Eddie and his family we've seen on the show or the occasional curse word when I feel it fits better than an English one, but I usually need to employ help from Spanish-speaking friends for those).

First fandom you wrote in?

Shameless! I binged that right before I started 9-1-1 and combined with the creative writing minor I was doing, it was actually what got me back into writing in general and what made me write my first ever fic.

Favorite fic you've written?

My in your arms i feel safe-series (which I always lovingly refer to as the ace kink fic) is definitely one of my favorites simply because of how personal it is to me and for the reason behind me writing it in the first place.

Other strong contenders are i would've loved you forever (it's never enough but i wanted it to be) and i'm begging you, come home to me (Teen Wolf, Thiam)

tagging @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @loserdiaz @watchyourbuck

[dracomort]

hello! what would you say is the best draco characterisation you’ve ever read in a fic? and what have you read recently that you really liked and would read again?

also, i love everything you write :) thanks in advance!

I once saw this fanart that depicted the three main forms of Draco in Drarry and I have to say it's the most accurate thing I've ever seen lmao. My personal preference is somewhere between 'nutcase' and 'fake it till you make it' Draco. For light-hearted fics, I like those that capture the meanness of Draco's humour and his difficult personality; for serious fics I enjoy those where he truly wavers on the line of moral ambiguity.

Away Childish Things by lettered

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

A great exploration of all the parts that make up the whole of Draco Malfoy.

any day now by oknowkiss

Draco Malfoy considers the circle.

I like this Draco for his moral greyness, self-preservation, internal conflict and risk aversion

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrims0n

Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

This is probably one of the most plausible DH-era Draco's I've ever read. The way he speaks to Hermione alone is enough to put it on this list. It's rare to find contemporary Drarry fics that are willing to commit to his nastiness and bigotry.

Such Great Heights by aideomai

Draco Malfoy, wide-eyed and pale and in a decidedly ragged shirt, was crouched next to the pile of whatever the dragon had been eating. Harry threw himself to a halt and yelled, “Merlin, how many times do I have to save your life?”

Draco's crabbiness and difficult personality here is so good. This Draco has always been a major influence for me. This line in particular is iconic:

“Due respect, sir,” Draco said, because apparently even weird romantic feelings or whatever they were weren’t enough to keep Draco from throwing Harry under the bus the moment an authority figure appeared, “I haven’t done anything. I’ve been working nearly non-stop the past few weeks - you can ask Mr Borgin—”

Lorelei in the Menagerie by BelladonnaLee

"I think my dead son is haunting the manor," says Draco when Harry runs into him in an antique book shop. Driven by yearning and suspicion, Harry offers his help and is drawn into a web of secrets and half-forgotten nightmare.

I think anything I say about this fic would be a spoiler but I really enjoy Draco's twisted grieving here. Also considering my usual character preferences, I think you'll see why I like this one so much if you read it.

Heal Thyself by astolat

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.”

“What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

“Oh, I thought you might,” she said. “Well, goodbye.” And off she wandered again in her addled way.

Amoral, ambitious character accidentally becomes a good person in their pursuit of status/money/power is one of my favourite tropes. It's also why I like Tom Riddle Snr in In the Bleak Midwinter so much. Astolat in general writes a great Draco.

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Despite the heavy sounded summary, this is actually a crackish humour fic. Certainly an excellent example of nutcase Draco. The villain reveal at the end is 100% my favourite part I stg.

[laufire]

This is redhoodinternaldialectical from the "main" blog, returning fire with the character ask game :3

For Jason: 23. Fav picture of this character 24. What character from another fandom reminds you of them? 26. Freebie question! What do you think his complicated opinions about Heathclif would be? (Saw ur tags about that hehehe)

I might come back with other characters, but just Jason for now cause it's WAY passed my bedtime

Fav picture of this character

there are so many options... (see: my header of his hamlet moment). but I'm going to go with this one, from batman annual #25.

I fucking love a character climbing out of his own grave. and that lightning bolt is so frankenstein of him <3

What character from another fandom reminds you of them?

my mind is wired to draw parallels and comparisons, and I happen to be rewatching a tv show (the 100, one of those "it could be so good if it was good" things xD) where sometimes it seems that all my favourite characters have some jason-coded moments and traits lol.

BUT. among all of them, we definitely need to talk about john murphy!!! he's my #1 in that show (with some strong competition), because I love his journey. he really started being... well, what dc regularly tries to convince us robin!jason was: a mean, angry teen, product of his society, who lashed out at people once he could, because he had been wronged himself. this show gave him far more grace about it (even during his messy revenge quest lol), and in season 2 they landed on a really potent love story with him and another character, emori (another outcast in her own society, this time because she was born with a mutation, that survived by stealing from others) that ended up catapulting him to Romantic Hero status in a way s1!murphy couldn't have dreamed of lmao. it was great.

even his backstory (which he's given in the first episode of s2) is. very jason añdslkfjasf. two important things about this gifset is a) the girl here, raven (another favourite), has a similar backstory (alcoholic mother who failed to take care of her, raven would've starved if not for the kindness of her neightbour & childhood sweetheart). she's taunting murphy because a few episodes before murphy shot her in the spine (he didn't intend to hurt her but it wasn't exactly an accident. part of his messy revenge quest against a -barely- adult who failed him lol). she hates him, and yet she clearly can't help but empathise </3. a few episodes later she tries to get him killed to save her ex <3. in a few seasons they'll become best friends <3. as far as I'm concerned she's memori's third <333

a few other things in favour of "jason-coded murphy" are this post, or the fact that at one point murphy had to use sex to survive in a way I personally headcanon jason doing (I've actually drawn some comparisons between that plot and nightwing/tarantula but only stylistic ones; plot-wise it's a very different situation where he displays an attitude closer to what I imagine jason doing).

What do you think his complicated opinions about Heathclif would be?

alñsdkfjasdf I can't believe I'm going to talk more about other characters than about jason but here we are lol.

anyway first of all, unlike many people in this fandom, jason is a smart cookie capable of differentiating fact from fiction, who could recognise heathcliff did some really fucked shit against undeserving people and still appreciate the hell out of him as the fascinating character he is. tyvm. that said, he's also someone who gets very personal about literature xD

one thing about heathcliff is that he does what some people argue jason is doing when he "targets" tim or mia (or damian, but that's bftc and fandom has more or less accepted that it's a mess, and also damian isn't white :))). aka, he's (a grown man!!) viciously, hatefully going after innocent children for the sins of their fathers!! for shame. sorry but that's not even true in bftc or hush (the situations there were very messy and the writers desperately needed medical consultants to make them make any sense, get off his dick xD), but definitely not true for titans tower or seeing red. jason was NOT trying to kill these teens (a few years younger than him at most), he's never wanted them death, and he's never even aimed to caused grievious, irreparable damage. again, get off his dick :P

but it's interesting to me thinking about jason reading the book for the very first time during the lost days era, in particular. he would empathise with heathcliff's desire for revenge, but I don't think he'd ~relate as strongly to him as some people think. yes, there is mistreatment in their youths and the revenge plot (after heathcliff does whateve he does in his own lost days period lol); there's even possible racial ambiguity in common, if we take into account the shiva thing. and he'd half-mindedly draw some links between bruce and earnshaw senior and, if he's feeling ungenerous lol, between dick and hindley, but nothing particularly strong, imo.

but I can see even this faint link being enough to have him pondering his own lines, what he's willing to do once he returns and what he isn't. and it's a fact that jason crossed some of his own purported lines, because he was too in his head about bruce or because they were convenient at the moment or because of all other reasons. and I picture him rereading the book years down the road, and grappling with that fact. wondering if heathcliff had drawn his own lines beforehand or gone all in from the beginning, wondering if he had any regrets. eta: it's interesting that he goes about his revenge in a very different way than heathcilff, who does it by becoming a legitimate (ymmv) landowner himself, one of the privileged, the top dog in a system, etc., and abuses his newfound poewr that way.

anyway. otherwise, he would appreciate heathcliff as the force he is in the narrative, while being utterly disgusted by some of his actions. at the same time he'd be really wary of the unreliable narration (I imagine him thinking nelly gives all the lintons too much grace, even if he obviously would think heathcliff's actions towards isabella and cathy are undefensible). I also believe he's ready to fist-fight anyone that supported the "monstrous" readings of heathcliff as something inhuman, as some supernatural force of nature. heathcliff, to him, is utterly human.

ALSO. jason is definitely that bitch who reads the FUCKING UNHINGED SHIT (x, x, x, x, x) catherine and heathcliff say about each other and be like. why can't that be me 😭. he's fucking unwell.

(and feel free to ask me about any other character you want! or any extra questions about jason lol)

[not-everything-is-so-primitive]

time off-c.s.

choi san×AFAB reader

genre: smut(basically pwp), slightly fluffy

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i swear i never meant for a san pwp one shot to be my first work on my blog, but the brainrot is far too real, and i need distracting from my upcoming exams. anyway, here it is *chucks fic at you and casually runs away*.

warnings: marking, orgasm denial(kinda), the tiniest bit of a breeding kink, slight degradation but nothing super mean, mentions of oc's parents in a kinky situation (i swear i blacked out while writing this bit, your honour I'm innocent-), mentions of slight exhibitionism but nothing concrete, unprotected sex(the way i would NEVER do this irl, please wrap it up), mentions of that that san(yes it's a warning, we should have all been warned beforehand), san is slightly dominant, the mildest choking you could imagine, past kink negotiation/ exploration(very hot)

maybe it had been a while.

or maybe it was the shaky words san whispered in your ear as you reached your first peak on his fingers.

"you can leave all the marks you want today, baby." he whispered, while you arched off the bed, eyes shut tight.

san started to think you might not have heard him from the way you kept your eyes closed for a few moments longer, heaving as you came down from your high.

no such doubt was left when he saw the look in your eyes- both dazed and so focused at the same time.

san didn't need to look, to tell where your gaze was locked, as you darted with enough force to shove him away slightly, straight for your favourite spot.

the moment your lips connected with the junction between san's neck and shoulder, is when he let out his first proper moan of the night. that moan of course, serving only to egg you on further as you practically made out with his neck.

it was really such a pity. san had the prettiest neck, and let out the most sinful noises when you sucked on it. you had learned this during one of the first few times the two of you had spent the night -and the morning after- together. 

another thing you found out was that san bruised far so easily.

the morning after you had left kisses all over his neck and shoulders, the two of you stared at the multiple purple-pink bruises in horror(and a little bit of arousal).

needless to say, san had gotten into quite a lot of trouble when the bruises remained, almost mockingly obvious, even after 2 days.while the stylists had only lectured san, both you and your boyfriend were sat down in hongjoong and seonghwa's room to endure 45 minutes of pure torture. all while the both of you could hear yunho and wooyoung's obvious giggles from just outside the room.

that had been enough to stop at least one of you each time things got heated. the one time both of you had lost your heads, you had thankfully been interrupted by yunho barging in, preventing the mark from getting too severe. so the both of you had controlled yourselves. for so long.

no more.

with the latest comeback having drawn to a close and the members having the next week and a half off from any official schedules, it was time.

san started whimpering as you moved your lips to the spot right below the angle of his jaw.

that godforsaken jaw. the number of times you had wanted to mark it up, was ridiculous.

as you drew back a little and noticed the first site already darkening.

"oh baby, look at you" you moaned, making san squirm at the teasing tone of your voice. "i've barely even done anything, and yet you've been so deprived that the marks are already showing up?"

san took in a sharp breath."well it's you who needs it the most, isn't it my love? or do you think i don't noticed everytime you wrench yourself away from my neck, whenever you get carried away?" he teased.

"i bet you've been waiting for this day, haven't you? the day where you could mark me up like this, so everyone would know whom I belong to?" san continued, switching places with you so you sat on top of him.

"go ahead baby, you can shout it to the world, that i'm all yours- and always will be"

you melt at the last part-almost wanting to skip to taking him immediately- but quickly get back to the task at hand, while subtly grinding your bare cunt on the bulge that was straining against san's underwear.

god that fucking pair of underwear- you remember how badly you had been affected by that stupid logo peaking out while san performed his ass off to that that of all songs.

you turn your attention to his left shoulder, not wanting to leave it out, kissing and biting a few marks all over it.

san groaned even louder as he felt the tell tale cold trail of your saliva, dripping down his shoulder.

"my messy baby can't stop drooling over her boyfriend, can she" san teased, tightening his grip on your ass to press you even more flush against him.

you hummed in agreement, as you dipped even lower, to his left collarbone. san had the most delicate collarbones. you joked that they were the most babygirl aspect of him- practically begging to be bitten raw.

with san's neck, shoulders, and collarbones covered in your claim, you then turned your attention lower, kissing over his national treasure, as wooyoung would put it. slowly reaching the elastic band with that infernal logo on it, you looked up at your boyfriend of 2 years, pulling it away slightly with your teeth. san hissed once you let go of it- the band hitting him hard enough to sting slightly.

"come on baby, don't you have anything more to say?" you whispered, lips ghosting over his clothed crotch. "you couldn't keep your mouth shut just a few seconds ago, could you?" you question, giving san the most innocent eyes you could muster- while wearing nothing but a smile.

thinking you had gotten the last word, you reach for san's underwear with your hands, only to be met with resistance. 

san clutches your hands in his left hand, while gripping your jaw in his right. "oh baby, it looks like you might have misunderstood how things were going to go today." san and you didn't have the strictest roles in bed, and typically he'd let you set the pace, but it seemed he had something different in mind tonight. "now you can suck me off like you did with all these marks, and if you do a really good job, maybe i'll leave a few of my own on you."

oh he was cruel.

san knew that your only replacement for marking him up, was him marking you. you loved the feeling of walking around with your boyfriend's hickeys all over pretty much any exposed part of your body (and on a few unexposed parts too). nothing quite beat having a casual breakfast with san's members, while pretending to not notice how mingi's eyes would keep catching on your neck, just to quickly look away. the both of you would try to suppress your giggles as hongjoong would stutter through wishing you good morning- the leader not having any valid criticism of the purpling bruises on you neck. yunho had all but choked on his drink the time you had all been invited to a pool party, and he got an eyeful of just where san loved to mark you up when he goes down on you.

san looked you in the eyes with a question in his expression, as if to ask if you were okay with the shift in dynamics. you quickly nodded, pulling his boxers down and off of him, positioning yourself in between his legs. 

while it may be cheesy, you really did love being between san's legs.

you moved closer to his dick, and while not quite touching it, you looked down at it, with your best attempt at confusion. while you were far from innocent, you loved playing the naive girl whenever san took charge.

san, getting impatient, lightly tapped your cheek with it- the sensation immediately making you light headed- and your mouth opened, almost without your control. 

you delicately suckled on his tip while continuing to maintain eye contact with san. he had always liked to joke that no one could look as adorable as you, while giving a blow job.

you were in love.

san's breath grew heavier, as he carded though your hair lightly, almost apologizing for the way he'd be yanking on your scalp soon. "three taps, if you need to stop baby." he whispered, tipping his head back, as you traced your tongue against the underside of his cock.

you slowly started your journey to his pelvic bone, taking more and more of him, while making sure to control your breathing. you remember how you had barely been able to take san halfway, the first time you had tried this.

that wasn't the case anymore.

your boyfriend had moulded you to take him.

and he knew it too, of course. san took a firmer hold of your hair, while returning to look at you with an expression that was almost too tender for the situation.

"there you go, my love. you take me so well, like such a good girl." and you lost any and all thoughts that had been in your head.

as your eyes rolled back, san started rocking into your mouth, slowly inching deeper and deeper into you. your head progressively got lighter and cloudier, partly because of the lack of oxygen, and partly because of the situation, making you slip into a quietude mentally. as much as you loved having sex, san was the first person to introduce you to the pleasure in giving blowjobs.

the grip in your hair tightened to pull you off san, as you whined, looking up at him with a frown. "i want it." you whimper, trying to chase his cock, while he quickly pulled you away again, san's hands trembling slightly.

"you did such a good job baby, and you have absolutely no idea how even just looking at you so wrecked right now, is practically destroying any semblance of self control i thought i possessed." san replied with a small smile, wiping away some drool that had escaped the margin of your mouth.

"well-" you started, climbing onto san before he could stop you. "lose that self control quick, because i think you can already feel how ready i am." you said, as you slowly ground down on his thigh.

san mumbled something you couldn't quite hear, and pulled you onto his bed on all fours. he immediately dove for your cunt, leaving small kitten licks from your clit to your hole. 

you immediately lost all strength in your arms as san gripped your things and started sucking on your inner thigh, a mark that no one would see- at least until the next time the two of you decided to torture one of his members a little. your mouth once again dropped open to let out a sharp breath as your love lightly bit your clit, while pushing apart your legs a little more.

"do you need to cum like this, or can you wait for my cock baby?" san asked, practically smirking into your pussy.

"need you in me, sannie." you whined, sinking down onto the bed.

"well how could I ever say no to anything you ask me for?" san replied, the dominant persona slipping off for the night. "come here baby" he said, as he pulled you slowly onto his cock, groaning as he entered you.

"you were really made for me, weren't you darling? going to have to thank your parents for making the most perfect girl, for this cock." san said right into your ear, feeling the shiver that ran through you, and the tightening he felt  at his words. 

san had already met your parents and had even managed to impress your stern career soldier of a father. the idea of him saying something so filthy to your parents who had practically taken him as their son-in-law was…concerning.

san moved a hand to your lower belly, pushing you against him further. "thats my dirty little baby- such a good girl for the world, but an even better girl, only for me"

"only for you sannie." you echoed, reaching behind you to hold his free hand. you felt the steady climb in your core, signaling what was to come.

"i know baby, now cum for me sweetheart. be my perfect little baby and cum."

his words were all you needed as you tipped over the edge, the knot in your belly snapping as you repeated clenched around san. 

your orgasm was prolonged when you felt san bite your shoulder lightly, as he moved his free hand to press lightly against your throat.

it wasn't even hard enough to make you light headed- san and you had vigorously tested both your limits with choking a while ago, when you had both admitted to wanting to try it out. this wasn't anywhere near the level needed to actually choke you, but the mere feeling of san's hand wrapped around your throat like he owned you, was enough to make you go slightly loopy.

behind you, san lost his control, feeling you practically milk him. as he pushed into you one last time, cumming into your wet heat, he garbled out mess of barely coherent words "-good girl-such a good fucking girl-letting me mark you up inside and out-all mine-only my good girl-"

you whimpered as san slowly pulled out of you, him flipping you onto your back, whispering reassurances against your temple. he grabbed a wet wipe off yunho's side table and gently started wiping you clean, while simultaneously pushing pushing his dripping cum back into you with his pinky.

"i hope you're prepared for your members to get absolutely sick of of us for the next few days" your say, smiling into sans shoulder.

"oh, I'm counting on it. just imagine all the fake grocery store runs and studio visits they're going to have to come up with and leave us all alone in the dorm" san muses, already thinking of more obnoxious behaviour to get his roommates to leave the both of you alone.

"do you think you could fuck me over the kitchen counter again?" you ask.

"THAT'S WHERE OUR FOOD IS MADE, YOU DISGUSTING HEATHENS" you hear wooyoung yell from outside the room. "CAN I WATCH?"

[tewwor]

SHIPPING INFO // ANSWER THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR MUSES SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPPING WORKS ON YOUR BLOG.

WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER(S)?

🧍 you know how long that'd take me to list out??? anyways, i'll limit the ones that have made me the most feral over the years —

@huntershowl + litho : yall want to talk about slow burn? that moment where we both clapped and they mushed faces together will forever be ingrained in my brain. 4 entire years worth of waiting....

@hnjwn / @cordoliae + chanyeol : insane. they're insane! the sheer depth they somehow fumbled into is just.. outstanding tbh. even though they're both hibernating, i had to mention them

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

i'm personally only comfortable with romantic age gaps of around 10ish years. and, yes, i'll admit that does bleed into my characters a lot.

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NSFT?

just before sexual foreplay + more. not that i really delve into that a lot anymore. but hey! if the stars align and the mood's right, then it still might happen.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?

with mutuals? no..... god no........ granted, chemistry is still a very big thing. not every random pair of muses will stick and that's okay! but if you have even an inkling of joy with a romantic ship between our muses, i'm almost always on the same exact boat. so please never, ever be afraid to voice that!

WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

**please know that i probably missed a ton ( rip my work shocked brain ), but these are just the first ships i can think of where we've had in threads or yapped ooc!**

currently established:

@huntershowl / @icarusplunged + seph/litho & seph/jie/ricochet & seph/adal/lior & rusa/ricochet — need i say more? the original marked dating sim hard launch tbh OHGAWOIGH anyways, doesn't matter how long either of us go on hiatus. one of us keeps crawling back

@miidnighters + bella/jie & hartley/cruor/iris — the way both of them just stuck? it's amazing, jaw dropping, heart warming!!! every aspect of a robust, well rounded relationship can be hit in either, i love them both so, so much.

just starting ( and super excited for ):

@xinxiins + jie — don't get me started on how many times my heart's ached already. there's such a cultural connection that guts me Every Time 😭

@chth0nia + cruor — every time i think of them, i think of that crying dog pic you sent. exactly how i feel about them!!!!

@bloodykneestm + whoever you want lbr — i've yet to write those starters for iggy and alastair but just you Wait……

@interxstitial + literally anyone — like, okay yeah there's ravi sure ( i do love them though ), but if there's anyone else that piques your interest... you just let me know and i'll fedex express ship them over. i'll even cover the cost dw

past:

@temporalobjects + botan/clarence/pildo & iwai + chanyeol : i don't think i've ever had a canon latch onto a ship so quickly before? and the fact that it's technically post canon and he's lumped with two sunshiny loveable dorks! then there's... yknow.. the other two that keep dancing around each other. shed many tears from angst and laughter over both ships, drawn at least 1 or 2 things for each ♡

@womanlives + mercy/jie & dez/clarence : my 'missing you' letter. i hope you know that those two ships have brought me such immense joy and tears at the same time. truly have a special place in my heart ♡♡♡

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

more like showing interest, i feel like? asking can be sooooo anxiety inducing ( i know it can be the same with just mentioning it ), but there's a very good chance i'm already jumping up and down in glee with the exact same thought so! just let me know!!

ARE YOU SHIP-OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

it's toned down a bit ( barely ) ever since i've been overtaken with how dear and important other types of connections are. but yeah, still love ships with all my heart

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

n/a

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

just let a clown know. yall know where to find me in my lil' clown corner. if you're more plot heavy, then hell yeah! we can chat up a storm! if you're more 'throw things at the wall and see what sticks' intensive, then hell yeah! i love punting these idiots out and see what happens in the weirdest ( or saddest ) situations. applies to both monogamous and polyamorous ships!

tagged by : i was tagged... in it so that counts right? ( thnkx @huntershowl muah muah )

[artharakka]

2, 4, 7 & 37 for the OC Questions!

2. Do you have a personal favourite among your OCs?

sigh... it seems like these two are answer to every second question but... Paju (Willow) and Rhiam....... I just love them so much. They are very personal to me and I feel like there is most "me" poured into them.

4. A character you rarely talk about?

Idk if I talk a lot about any of my characters besides I guess Rhiam lately? But here's a character I've drawn and thought a lot but shared almost none as she is a character to a graphic novel me, @artist-rat & @iijadraws were working on (still on indefinite pause & not posted anywhere). We all designed one protagonist for the story and my contribution is Kasimira or Kaipo for short. She is a princess to an empire who ends up far away from home during a traditional competition between emperors/empress' children to determine the next heir to the throne. She'd rather stay home and continue her relatively comortable life, but she doesn't trust that her power hungry older stepbrother would let her keep that if she lost.

7. Are your OCs part of any story or stories?

I think... all of them have some kind of story? For most of them I have some sort of book or comic projects planned (whether I actually make those isn't that important but I like to dream ✨). Some are "just" game charactes I've created but even then they do have a story. And I might have plans to snatch them for other projects as well.

37. Introduce an OC who is not quite human

Marras is a god of shipwrecks and keeper of sunken treasures and souls lost at sea in my and Rat's anotherrr comic draft world. They (he?) are a minor and not-really-worshipped deity, he (they?) works under a more prominent sea god Salvia. He has many forms including a gigantic deep sea beast, shoal of fish, a cat with too many legs and his version of a human. Though his idea of how humans look is based on corpses rotting in water and sunken ship's figureheads so it is a bit... off. And why a cat amongst other things? Well in his past life he was indeed a ship's cat. The vessel he was on sunk and the crew left the poor cat behind and Salvia took pity in it and made it a god. As you do.

He could have a more morbid look on life, but he's in fact quite cheerful. You might be even able to struck a deal with him if you are lucky enough, but I wouldn't get my hopes up. For he usually only shows up to sink your ship if you have stolen something from him.

[andorianminingconsortium]

Review of The Wrath Of Khan

(as much spoiler free as I can be)

As you may know, I recently started watching all the old Star Trek movies for the first time. I started with First Contact, per friend's recommendation, then watched the Motion Picture and I'm now watching chronologically. That brings me to Wrath of Khan.

First things first, I really loved it! I think it's my favourite from the ones I've watched so far! The characters were cool! The movie-only characters were cool! They uniforms looked good! Everyone's hair looked good lol

I loved the character Saavik. The fact that this character exists in a movie made so long ago (lol) proves once again how progressive Star Trek is and is a great example of what I love about Star Trek. Also when Kirk is like "you have no problem with self expression" I screeched. That was such a line. Thank you for your support of gender expression, Admiral.

I thought Khan was very well played! (Poor Chekov, man...) Khan was so evil! Great! He had such a clear goal and mindset. Loved that they didn't water him down. Now that I saw the original movie Khan, I realised that Benedict Cumberbatch in the recent movies wasn't just putting up a "slightly weird but cool villain voice". He was mimicking the way the original Khan spoke! And he did it really well! I'm impressed. The almost whispering, drawn out sillables, teeth-clenched talking. Especially Cumberbatch' iconic "I'll walk over your cold corpses" sound so much like the original Khan in my opinion! I just thought it was really neat!

I also liked the parallels between the old and new movie such as Scotty yelling "you'll flood the whole compartment!" In both movies. Great eye for detail from the makers of the new movie!

What really stuck with me was when one of the crewmates died and Scotty came carrying him in and was like "he's the only who stayed at his post" and then the crewmate, with bloody hand, touched the one white part of Kirk's uniform and left a handprint that remained for the next few scenes. That was so good! Such a chilling detail! Beautiful!

I might have forgotten something but these were the things that stuck with me most! I enjoyed it and I might watch it again after I've watched all the other movies.

My ranking so far:

Wrath of Khan - Motion Picture - First Contact

I have also just watched Search for Spock! Will review later :)

Thank you for reading!

[oboy-me]

Hi! This is my first ever ask on one of these blogs, and I hope you’re still open to them at some point. But If you could get around to doing maybe a Possessive Levi x M!MC nsfw imagine, I think that might be pretty sweet. Like a soft-ish yandere scenario.

Hello anon, I'm honored that you chose to send me this ask! And just for you, I've done a little bit more than just an imagine; this one's gonna be a whole drabble! I may have ended up getting a little carried away with the length, but I wanted to make up for how long I've been gone, too. 💖

——————————————————————————————————————

▸▸ It was supposed to be his day with you; you two set aside some time to go check out a local arcade cabinet that had just been installed. When Mammon and Beelzebub show up to take you away from him though, he's in ruins. He's left to seethe, but this time alone gives him an idea...

——————————————————————————————————————

It just wasn't fair.

He knew you better than everyone else. He knew your favourite things to watch, your favourite things to eat, your favourite haunts, the little intricacies and quirks of your habits. He could recite from heart the episodes you love the most.

So why was it Mammon who got to touch you so intimately, and with such easily?

Fingers tipped with a deep blue nail polish dug deep into one of his plain pillows, knees drawn up tighter towards his chest to feel the compression of gryphons down on his body. Those honey-violet eyes of his stared at his D.D.D, missed message notifications practically staring him back down in turn.

It had only been a couple hours earlier. You were hanging out with Leviathan at a local arcade, invited by the Avatar of Envy to check out a cabinet that had just been installed that morning. It was all going so well, he felt so high on your smiles and laughter, he felt like he was actually able to make you happy. Then Mammon swooped in with Beelzebub at his back; they stole your attention away swiftly and firmly, and wouldn't give you a chance to decline before they dragged you off to do some stupid outing of theirs.

The memory played on loop made his blood boil hot, his chest tightening until it was a white-hot knot all throughout. It wasn't fair at all that they got to trample all over his day out with you, and that Mammon felt so bold as to slide his hand around your waist like he owned you. What was so special about Mammon — or the others for that matter — that let them be so close to you so effortlessly? Was it because he was some filthy shut-in otaku that you only hung out with to pity? … No. He wanted to have more faith in you than that.

Before he ended up spiraling again, he needed to watch something. Anything. His favourite anime streaming site had just announced an exclusive show premiering on their service solely, maybe he'd turn that on and just let himself get lost in a fantasy world where he didn't have to think about how deeply his heart ached for you, for your smile, and most of all, for your love.

The show he chose started off interestingly enough, being about a young man serving as the main protagonist, whose pet hog protected him as they traveled in search of answers to an old riddle; Levi loved to try and solve those types of plots before anything was confirmed or denied by the studio itself. As the episodes progressed though he took notice of one of the other protagonists — a rather reserved girl who seemed to very methodically work to charm the main character and kept the other love interests at bay out of a wicked sense of jealousy and possessiveness. Leviathan hadn't even realized how far he was leaned in as the episodes continued on to show this "yandere"-type girl cunningly maneuvering to curry favor with the male lead through both subtle and obvious shows of affection — all of her efforts culminating in a kabedon that won the young man's heart over in one fell swoop.

The girl… She was someone he could see himself being. Like her, he was viciously envious and upset that others were encroaching on the man he loved so dearly, and like her, he would do anything to earn the favor of that very same boyfriend. Though unlike her, he wasn't nearly as cunning or charismatic to pull off such clever stunts — but he was, if nothing else, very determined. Maybe he wasn't charismatic, but if he practiced and said the right things, you might be won over all the same.

So he planted a text message for you to read; a request to come to his room when you had the chance. Now that he'd asked you, there was no going back. He'd have to steel himself and make the move, just like in that anime — he had to channel that girl's bravery and charisma, her desire to win over the love of her life. So he waited and practiced the words he wanted to say over and over in his mind, out loud to nail the tone he wanted, eyes almost fixated on his D.D.D until he saw your message;

[ Okay, I'll be over in a moment. ]

This was it. This was his only chance; he rushed out of his seat and stood near the door poised and ready, he could only tell that it had swung open from seeing it with his own two eyes. If you said anything, he couldn't hear it over his heart drumming so loudly in his ears that he could not even hear his own shaky breathing. You had not even gotten past the door when he had closed the gap between you two, using his body to push you back, one hand of his reaching out to anchor down on the wall he'd backed you up against. In the same rush of movement his tail had lashed forth from hiding, snapped out in a way that would push the door shut with a flourish.

He had moved to kabedon you, just as he saw in the anime… and you had to admit, he had some fluid movement when doing so — enough so that it brought a rosy tint to your cheeks as you were surprised to see him being so bold.

"Y/N!" He gasped out, his face a bright scarlet as he fought the urge to crumple. You could see in the way his arms shook and his body trembled that he was fighting that desire to give up, to concede his defeat, to withdraw into himself and forget about what happened. Yet he didn't. Through a breath that was unsteady yet fighting so desperately to sound grounded and firm, he started to speak again.

"Y/N… I can't stand it any more… Seeing how Mammon handled you… I… I won't let that happen again! You… You're mine, you know that?!"

You froze at that, eyes widening at the spluttering declaration; this was a side of Levi you knew existed, but never had you heard him say it in such a firm, almost desperate manner.

"You… You be… belong to…" Then it was Levi's turn to stop mid-sentence, his chest practically seized up and unable to muster the courage to speak further. It was that familiar gaze of regret and shame in his eyes when he felt he had pushed too far, asked too much of you. His head sunk low, shoulders slouched for a moment, but on instinct you had reached out to grasp his chin, to raise his face right back up. It elicited a gasp out of the demon, his orange-violet eyes fixed upon your own now as his mind raced with questions — and desires.

"… To me…" Leviathan finally breathed out after a moment of tightness in his throat. His entire expression had melted with those two words into a mixture of rising passion and awe. Awe at you, his boyfriend, being so kind, so willing to go along with his outburst. It was such a strong wave of emotion that he had not even realized you pulled him closer for a kiss until your sweet lips had pressed to his own; when you had done this, there was no stopping the floodgates that opened in his mind. You were so close, so vulnerable, so very much his, and he wanted people to know it. He wanted his brothers to respect the fact that you were his, you were his handsome boyfriend, you were not to be claimed by anyone else.

Without thinking, his hands shot forward to grasp at your shirt and pull you in, breathless little gasps breaking the kiss before he lunged right back in for more. You encouraged him with how you wrapped your arms around his neck, gave him the subtle clues that you were willing to give yourself to him and fulfill those desires so clearly writ large in every action he took. You were relishing in this just as much as he was, and it led to you both having leaned in to one another until bodies were pressed flush and you could feel a noticeable throb against your belly. Leviathan's fantasies had been stewing in his mind for so long now, and in the heat of this moment threatened to boil over and completely consume any rational thought he had.

You smiled against his lips and decided to try and test just how sensitive he really was by smoothing one of your hands down the Avatar of Envy's back, down past his waist, to give his posterior a nice little squeeze. You expected the sharp inhaled gasp, but you weren't ready to hear the shuddering moan that wracked his chest, the sound like melting honey in your ears. It almost sounded as if he begged you for something, so you tried for another, almost kneading grope — and this time his whole body responded by rolling against yours, head thrown back and tail suddenly lashed upwards uncontrollably.

"Please!" Leviathan would gasp out, hands tensed on your shirt. "Please, do that again…! I want more… Please… Y/N…" The gasps he gave were choked, but more from how much pleasure was coursing through his veins, hazing his vision and his thoughts. You could tell he was lost in the moment, not a single care in the world for if he "deserved" such amazing sensations. You wanted to treat him for being so forward — he waited so patiently for you, he made his thoughts so clear to you, he only wanted you. Yet as you went for his belt you were stopped by a shaky hand, though Leviathan was quick to quell any concerns you had.

"Be... Before you do," the demon exhaled, his eyes shifting to watch your expression. "Can... Can I... nibble your neck...? Ju-Just a little..."

The question surprised you a little bit, yet you couldn't help but find it so endearing; here he was moments ago demanding that you were his, and now he was asking permission to claim a little bit of you. With a warm smile you gave him that permission, and found he only hesitated for a moment before he leaned in and pressed nervous lips and sharp canines to your neck. Leviathan's actions felt so gentle despite his explosive display of emotions, as if he were worshipping you, revering your body as something sacred despite the overwhelming need building in his chest.

The first nip was experimental, testing the waters against your skin. The second found more purchase near the artery in your neck, a gasp drawn against your throat as Leviathan froze and took it all in — the rapid rush of blood just inches below his lips was because of him. It was for him that your heart beat like so.

"I love you..." Leviathan would breathe out before taking another bite a little further down. "I love you... I love you so much..." A few more marks were left trailing down to your collarbone, but then he pulled away; the expression on his face could only be described as utterly consumed by lust, eyes soft and hazy and glistening in the light, lips parted with an awe-struck smile, scarlet spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

"Okay... I'm ready now," the demon would utter as he moved your hand back to his belt, a stuttering murmur escaping at the anticipation alone. "I... I wanted to leave those there... because I wanted others to know... Know that I'm the only one who gets to see you like this... who gets to be pampered like this... who... who..." His brain skipped a bit and he shuddered out a moan when white-hot flashes of pleasure washed over his nerves at the thought of what he would say next settled in.

"... Please don't be too gentle with me... I... I want all of you, Y/N... I've waited so long for this... to t-take you in like this... I, um... I've practiced a little for you... W-well a lot for you... I want to make you happy... in every single way... I want to be the only one wh-who can meet those needs... Okay?"

Leviathan was so wholly devoted to you, to your desires, and in a rush of courage brought on by all the positive reinforcement you had been giving he laid it all bare for you to take in. Despite letting you take the lead and be the one to dominate, you felt as though he was still actively feeding your own passion with the way he breathlessly uttered his affections for you from a chest gripped wholly by undying love.

You spared no time removing those layers of clothes from his body as you kept him pinned to the wall, your fingers deftly working to ease his entrance and prepare him. Your own dripping length was freed only when he was ready, and he squirmed and cried out in undiluted ecstasy when he finally got to feel you filling him up. The Avatar of Envy was so sensitive, so easy to react, you had to be careful not to overload him in the heat of the moment, but as soon as you started getting a rhythm going with your hips, a curious detail caught your eye.

As you fucked him there on that wall, his eyes were fixed upon the marks he left on your throat — as though he were admiring them, how they painted your pretty skin a bluish-red, how they announced so loud and proud who you chose to get so intimate with. He had even coiled his tail around your waist a couple times over, as if denying the chance to make any distance — he did not want you to stop, not for anything in the world.

"Y/N... Y/N..." Your name was a mantra on his tongue, spoken so sweetly, so desperately. Interlaced between each instance of your name was confessions of love, though mostly inaudible from how he mewled and moaned and cried out with each movement you made.

It did not take long at all for him to reach his climax, thick ropes of cum painting your shirt as his tail squeezed you gently and his body jerked and tensed from the sheer force of the release sending waves across his body. Yet he wouldn't let you stop, riding that climax through his tears and drooling just to see you to yours — only then did he slow down, mouth hung agape with a smile at the corners of his lips, eyes barely able to stay open.

"Thanks..." he exhaled after he was able to catch his breath, his voice so light and full of joy. He saw the confused look on your face and after a moment of processing it, realized he needed to continue. "F-for choosing me. For letting me be the one to experience this... It makes me so happy..."

The demon's arms would be thrown around your neck after he said that, his head lowered to nestle up against the marks he had left previously. It was so hard to believe that his little tactic worked, and that he had even gotten to enjoy the highs of personal intimacy with you for it too.

"Don't go doing this with anyone else, okay? Just... Just me. I don't want anyone else being able to see how beautiful you are covered in sweat like this..." After he mewled his reminder out on airy breaths, you felt him squirm on you a bit, still excited for more — still so pent up and ready for more. It was cute, you mused with a smile.

It was typical for Leviathan to go hours without messaging anyone, but when people caught on that you and him both had gone radio silent ever since you got back to the House of Lamentation earlier than everyone else, they couldn't help but wonder if you had stolen Levi away — though Asmodeus couldn't stop giggling to himself when he caught a very familiar scent wafting off of you both later.

And there we are! I hope I did your request justice dear anon; I got very, very excited to write this, so I made it a lot longer than I should have. Oops! But I hope I captured the essence of a soft but still possessive/obsessive Levi for you!

And to all who were waiting so patiently, hello! I'm back, so sorry for the wait!! 💖

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

For Acier Silva, can you please answer 2, 12, 14, 18 and 21?

Favourite BC mom! ^^

Will contain some manga spoilers!

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

I have to choose one thing? I mean... if I have to choose just one thing, I think I'd have to choose her strength. Because she is someone who made it in men's world. Since Charlotte is a fierce spokesperson for women's rights in a world that is still dominated by men, I think that Acier becoming a captain during the previous generation is a mark of strength. She needed to earn that spot. She's fiercely protective, and immensely compassionate and caring, but takes no bs from anyone. Because being kind and compassionate, doesn't equate you into being a doormat or going along with the loudest person in the room. Granted that she's probably had to go along with some things in her life due to her status (I mean... would he have married a man like Papa Silva if she didn't), but she endured those things. She continued to care for her children as much as she could until her dying day, because she loved them. Not because it was a duty of hers, but because she wanted to do so. Acier Silva is one of the strongest characters in BC, and I will stand by that statement.

12. What’s a headcanon you have for this character?

My headcanon for Acier is that she used to be, in her youth, a bit of a trouble maker. Not one to cause harm for anyone, but she'd sneak out when she was supposed to stay indoors and practice something like needlepoint. In a way, I headcanon that she was a lot like Mereo. But less volatile and less eager to fight things.

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

Business casual meets modern viking queen

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

Like I said in Nozel's case, I adore Acier's mother-son relationship. I wish that we would have gotten more of it (awkward side-eyeing at canon), during the happy times. As in, sure, the goodbye she left was also touching and made me clench my heart, but damn... It was far from a happy reunion. Though there was relief in it too. It's more than clear that Nozel idolizes his mother, and that Acier loved Nozel (as well as all her children) with all her heart. But she got to develop the bond she has with Nozel the best because... he's the oldest child. And she had some years when he was the only child. She also (though it ended up being... uhh... rather counter productive) transferred the wish to keep the family safe onto Nozel. And I think this happened before Acier said it to Nozel blatantly.

21. If you’re a fic writer and have written for this character, what’s your favorite thing to do when you’re writing for this character? What’s something you don’t like?

Hmmm... Okay, okay, though I'd like to see more Acier-Nozel mom-son bonding time, I do like making it sting. As in, I've drawn such angst from this, and I enjoyed writing it. But I am drawn to the idea of writing something happy for them too, I just don't know what that might be. As to what I don't like writing for her, I suppose... well, saying that I would dislike it seems a wee bit strong, but I'm not particularly interested in writing her reasons as to why she married Papa Silva (however, luckily the fic has been already written by a lovely mutual, Lyra (if my memory serves me correctly)). I do think that it's an important fic to have in the fandom, but writing that particular story didn't appeal to me. Overall, considering her character, I don't think there's anything in particular that I'd dislike doing. Aside of maybe writing her out of character.

[gamchawizzy]

Can you show us other characters from your project besides the main three (Ducec, Neviss and Mary)? I've been scrolling some works and found reoccuring characters here and there but I haven't put together who is who 🤔 Mostly because my brain is a mess fshhdfd I've noticed a certain little girl character appearing most often though? (not expect you to have drawn ALL of the secondary characters yet of course, just would like to see and hear about those who are already here!)

Oh!! I think you might be referring to Onny : )

She is Neviss' little sister! They have a huge age gap (Nev is 30 and Onny is around 8-9) because she was adopted into his family as a baby.

She's very imaginative, a little odd, but her partner in crime is the family cat, Lulu. She prefers talking to adults, and her favourite colour is orange. She's also very talkative. Her older siblings may be very far in age, but they stick around as if they grew up together.

Speaking of which, this teenager here is Ry! (Pronounced "Rai")

He's the middle child of the three of them. A bit of a genius, but prefers to be in the background. A 19 year old still figuring out what he wants to do in life. He loves to take care of the livestock, but the chickens are the best company. At his age, he's actually allowed to go out and about to do whatever he wants outside the Congregation's usual thing and live life a little bit as a townie, but he still wears their faith's plain green clothes. According to him, it "saves up on laundry". He doesn't want to talk about what he wants to be just yet, but right now he passes the time by taking orders for baked goods for the townies. :)

And this is Rashid!

He is Ry's best friend. He's much more religious compared to Ry's more practical view on life, but he's also a hopeless romantic. They don't have girls their age at the Congregation right now, so he's been trying to shoot his shot with the townie girls (They all turn him down very politely). He thinks women are a gift from the gods. If you look in his mind right now he's probably daydreaming about a pretty lady he saw on the train. But he's not sleazy at all! Just really lame LMAO. He WILL crochet you things if you're a friend though. His family is full of fabric weavers and more often than not, his hands have a slightly green tint from dyeing cloth as one of his daily duties.

I hope this answers your question and more!! I have a LOT more OCs (both within this story and in my other works) to talk about, but these 3 are the ones most connected to your ask so far :3

[inthegardensofourminds]

My thoughts on the Okita musical. Pictures and rambling under the cut for my non-Hakumyu followers who probably wish I would just shut up about it already.

So, I don't know if I made it clear before, but I think Okita's route is my favourite in the game of what I've played so far, and one of my favourite characters. I think I waited too long to finish watching the musical after playing it and wish it didn't take me so long to finish watching it, because my memory is already getting a little fuzzy on the details of the game even though I think I still remember a fair bit of the overall story. I just felt like I was having trouble being certain about some of the differences but then again, it's OK not to compare and just enjoy it mostly for what it is.

I've posted about it already, but the song about Okita's relationship to Kondou was really moving to me, and the first time I watched that song I cried a little. Kondou and Okita's relationship makes me soft.

While I found Kaoru a really compelling villain in the game and we did get his backstory in the musical (plus the actor playing him was really into being evil) I'm still not sure I connected with him in the same way. The moment below where he reveals Chizuru is his sister is funny, though, because of Chizuru's shocked expression. Perhaps unintentionally funny, but that reaction shot got me.

And of course their duet together is so much fun, anachronistic microphone and all.

Other than Kaoru, though, who is the main demon in this story, I felt that the inclusion of Shiranui, Kazama, and Amagiri felt a little extraneous and forced in. I guess to some extent they comment on things and are another rival to fight, but I didn't feel they added enough to the story to warrant the demon clan song. But maybe that's just me.

As for the development of Okita and Chizuru's relationship, I thought the way they portrayed it was pretty satisfying.

I liked the way they did this dream scene, the transition was so quick I was wondering "How did they do that?" Of course, it's an ensemble member playing Okita in the dream, but it took me by surprise. I love theatre magic! Also, this scene gave us a sense of how Okita is feeling, which I liked.

I liked how things came together with repeating the dream scenario again, having it play out in his head before "rewinding" to reality to show him coming between Kaoru and Chizuru before Kaoru can hurt her. I think it was perhaps a bit messy, I was wondering why Okita looked like he was falling through the air, but the message came across for the most part.

Interestingly, I think one of the things that his musical does really well (and what I've seen of some of the others, this is the case in the other musicals as well) is the blood-drinking scenes. When I first got into Hakuoki I found those scenes kind of uncomfortable even though I understood the purpose and still liked the story. I don't usually like how the characters are drawn in the CGs for those scenes in the game, but I think the scenes in the musical convey the tenderness and intimacy really well. Even when Okita is literally licking Chizuru's hand in the first one in this musical, there's something touching and tender in it, to me. Maybe I'm a freak, but that's how I felt watching it.

I was quite happy to see they included the one where Chizuru and Okita drink each other's blood. This might not be the most popular opinion among fans, but I think there's so much intimacy in that scene, it almost makes up for the fact that Okita and Chizuru don't kiss in this musical. The scene is one you can only select in the game for the bad endings, but I think it should be included with the good ending.

The way they sing "Aaaahh-aaah" together as they both bear themselves to each other, the fact that what they sing together uses the melody from Paint It Blood, the way they each sheath their swords at the same time at the end. Aaahh! I didn't cry, but I pretty much turned into a pile of mush, it was so satisfying and moving. I think I'm using those words too much, but I'm not sure how else to say it right now. I just loved the way it beautifully brought the characters together and the way Paint It Blood became a love theme.

Speaking of emotions, the reprise of Yaisa! Yaisa! Yaisa! gave me some!

Hijikata imagining talking to Kondou-san as he continues to fight... oof.

I thought the confrontation scene between Okita and Hijikata, which was one of the scenes that moved me the most in the game (partly because of the actors' voices), was also pretty good in this. We don't get to actually see Okita hit Hijikata in the game, it's not in the CG, but it definitely hit home in the musical the emotions Okita was feeling.

And then finally at the end of the musical after Kaoru has been defeated, we finish with another hug and notice Koaru's body in the background. I think a hug does make more sense than a kiss given the situation, and I just really like this tableau. Chizuru has lost a lot, and will lose Okita eventually, but right now they hold each other, and he wants to protect her.

So yeah, good job on Okita-hen, everyone (she says, about ten years after they already made it). I wouldn't be averse to Shinkai Okita-hen, which is a surprise to no one. Maybe we can even let them kiss this time? That CG is a really nice one...