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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years ago

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JUST HOW FAST THE NIGHT CHANGES (part 4)

A/N: surprise update!! i was able to sneak some writing in today at work and i didn't want to hold onto the part once it was finished, so now im posting it before going to bed hehe but anyways, enjoy!

WARNING: discussion about miscarriage

PAIRING: Harry x High-School-Best-Friend!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

You never really had any trouble paying attention at meetings, but today it feels like torture to listen to your group leader tell about an upcoming project. Normally you’d be taking notes, but now your document is awfully empty in front of you, almost mocking you for being a mess.

It’s been your constant state since dinner at Harry’s.

It totally flipped your world upside down and you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it every waking moment. You still have no clue what’s gotten into you to tell him about Drew and everything that happened, you hate talking about it, but with Harry it felt kind of… natural to open up. He gave just the type of comfort you’ve been seeking for a long time and you’d have never guessed it would be him to make you feel this way.

And when he pulled out the beads from his wallet? You were absurdly close to start sobbing again.

How are you supposed to go on from this point? Where are you even heading? Harry came back to your life kind of abruptly and judging from his invitation he is planning to stay this time. You have your fears and doubts about him still, you know you shouldn’t just jump right into this new situation so easily, but… part of you is desperate to be selfish and do what feels the best.

“Y/N?” your team leader’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts and as you look up from the screen you notice that almost everyone has left the room.

“Oh, s-sorry… I got distracted a bit,” you mumble, shutting your laptop and gathering your things.

“Is everything alright?” Nadine approaches you with genuine worry in her eyes.

She might be your boss, but she’s been more like a friend. She knows what you went through and instead of adding to your plate for not being able to do as much work in the tougher times, she was right there to help you through it, giving you all the tools to keep you going and keep your job as well. You’re eternally grateful for that.

“Yeah, I’m just… a bit all over the place,” you huff out a chuckle.

“If you need a few extra days off, just let me know, we can try to make it work.”

“No, I’m fine, really,” you assure her. “Just had an overwhelming weekend, is all.”

“Alright, let me know if you need anything.”

“Sure, will do. Thank you,” you smile at her before heading towards the door, but before walking out, you stop and turn back. “Just theoretically, if I were to work fully remotely for a bit, like a few weeks, would that be okay?”

She looks up from her notes and nods.

“Of course. You know you have the chance to work from home as much as you want still.”

“Thanks.”

It came out of the blue, how you asked about full remote work. Harry’s invitation has been itching your brain since Friday and it seems like you’re starting to get familiar with the thought of it.

You spend the rest of the day tucked away in your little corner cubicle, trying your best to focus on work. Your stomach growls violently when you finally stand up from your desk and get ready to leave. Your mouth waters when you think about dropping by your favorite sandwich place on your way home, but for some reason you’re not a fan of having dinner alone tonight.

And before you could even think about it, you’re texting Harry.

Y/N: Do you have plans tonight?

By the time you pack your stuff and head out of the building you already have a reply to your text.

HARRY: Nothing in particular, but I feel like it’s about to change. :)

Y/N: Want to grab dinner with me?

HARRY: Absolutely, I’m on my way.

Y/N: I haven’t even said where.

HARRY: Doesn’t matter, I’m on my way.

You laugh at his text as you shoot him the address to the sandwich place before you’re off on your way as well.

Harry has a skip in his step as he rounds the corner from the parking lot. He actually had plans for the afternoon, some work he needed to take care of but there was no doubt he would trade it to have some time with you.

The sandwich place you invited him out to seems small, not too crowded or popular, but if you like it he knows he will too. You’re already by the front door when he arrives, approaching you with a goofy smile.

“For a moment I thought you weren’t coming,” you chuckle, as he greets you with a warm hug.

“Of course I came, I would have been stupid not to,” he simply answers and you ignore how your heart just skipped a beat.

He smiles when the guy behind the counter greets and calls you by your name. You order your usual as always and Harry chooses the Very Veggie one before the two of you take a booth in the corner, tucked away from prying eyes.

“Okay, oh my God, this is very good, now I understand why it’s your favorite place!” He moans with his mouth full right after the first bite of his sandwich.

“You had doubts? I’m offended!” you gasp dramatically, to which he just grins.

The conversation almost picks up from where you left it off last time. Even though you’re out in the public this time, he is able to bring the same kind of comfort that held you at his place. It’s a lot lighter, the heavy stuff is off the table, but it still feels just as important.

“So did you think about coming to Palm Springs?” he asks with a smirk as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“Mm, I did,” you shortly answer.

“And? What do you think?”

“Why do you want me there so badly?” you ask with a sigh, though a smile is playing on your lips.

“Because I want to see you on my birthday,” he simply answers with an innocent shrug.

“You survived your last ten birthdays without me.”

This could have sounded offended, but it’s not the case, you’re cheeky and it was just some teasing, luckily Harry could tell too so he doesn’t take it to his heart.

“And it was so horrible!” he gasps dramatically, making you laugh. “All my favorite birthdays are the ones I spent with you!”

“So you haven’t had a good birthday in a decade? Poor thing!” you play along.

“See? You can’t let me have another bad birthday!” He even pouts his lips at you, giving you the puppy eyes which just makes you laugh again as you shake your head in disbelief. It’s good to see that he is just as persistent as he was before.

He doesn’t want to push you too much, doesn’t want you to feel like you can’t say no, so he is ready to drop the topic when you surprise him.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks, eyes widening. “W-what do you mean okay?”

“I’ll go to Palm Springs with you.”

It takes a couple of moments for him to register what you just agreed to, but when it finally sinks in he can’t control his happiness.

“Yes! Fuck yes!” he throws his hands up into the air, as if he just won the lottery. There are only two other people in the shop, they give him a weirded out look, but he ignores them all, eyes glued to you over the table. “Okay, I’ll take care of everything, you don’t have to worry about anything, it’s gonna be so good!”

“I have to move a few things around at work though, so it’s not entirely certain, alright?”

“Sure, let me know if you need help with anything. I’ll send you over everything about the traveling and all, okay?”

“Okay,” you chuckle lightly, touched by the enthusiasm he is showing you.

You stay a little longer before heading home, Harry insists on dropping you off and secretly he also wants to know where you live. It’s a simple neighborhood with similar townhouses lining the street, he can totally picture you walking around, coming home from work or going grocery shopping.

“So when can I see you again?” he asks, parking down in front of your place.

“Why are you always asking me this?” you chuckle.

“Because I want to see you,” he admits without shame, completely oblivious to what it does to you.

You can’t deny the romantic feelings you have for Harry, maybe it’s what’s left from the past, maybe it’s something entirely new. It doesn’t matter. It’s something you haven’t experienced in a long time and because of what happened to you not long ago, you’re not entirely sure what to make of it.

“I’ll call you. Or you can call me too,” you smile shyly before leaning over the console and giving him a little awkward side hug before getting out of the car.

He watches you jump up the stairs and open the front door, turning back you wave at him one last time before walking in and shutting the door behind you. He drives away with a lovesick sigh.

Since last time it was you who invited him out, he thinks it’s his job to take the next step. And he’ll gladly do it.

He’s been thinking and planning what to do next, dinner, museum, casual hangout, he’s thought of it all by the point Friday rolls around again and he knows he needs to up his game and not waste any more time. So Friday morning he texts you.

HARRY: Hey! Do you want to watch a movie tonight? We can order food and everything.

He doesn’t expect an immediate reply from you, he goes on with his day as usual, but keeps checking his phone, only to see no message from you. When lunch time rolls around he starts to worry. He doesn’t want to be a bother, maybe you just have too much work to do, but he still wants to know you’re alright.

So against the anxious voice in his head, he calls you sometime in the afternoon when it’s been way too long since his text.

The line rings and rings, he starts to think he will not get an answer, but at last you pick up.

“Yeah?” Your voice is weak, kind of sleepy and might be even pained, he can’t tell just from this one little word.

“Hey, it’s… it’s me, Harry,” he starts, unsure if you even know he is the caller. “Is everything alright? Did you see my text?”

He doesn’t want to be pushy, but he can’t rid himself of the worry that’s crawling up his spine as there’s a long pause on the other end of the line.

“Um, I saw it. I just… don’t think I can do it tonight.”

“Are you alright? Not to be rude or anything, but you sound… kind of sick?”

“I’m not sick, I… I can’t tonight, I’m sorry.”

Now he is on full alert mode, he knows something is off and he can’t just let it go.

“Do you need help with anything? I can do grocery shopping or I could just cook for you, anything, Y/N, just let me know.”

There’s silence on your end again, until he hears you sniffling and he knows he won’t be able to keep himself out of whatever it is.

“Can you come over?” you then ask, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“I’m on my way, do you want me to bring anything?”

“No, just…”

“It’s okay, I’m on my way, Y/N.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Harry runs a few red lights probably and gets to your place in record time. You texted him earlier that you’d leave the front door open, so he pushes it in without hesitation and walks into your home, frantically looking for you.

“Y/N? It’s me, Harry!” he calls out not to scare you.

“Here!” you answer weakly and he starts running in the direction of your voice, finding himself in your tiny kitchen.

He would never tell you this, but you look like crap. It’s obvious you’re not feeling well, your hair is a mess, your face is paler than usual, a fluffy blanket draped around your shoulders as you’re holding a heating pad, that you must have just filled with warm water. It instantly clicks what the matter is.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he softly asks as he approaches you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Like shit,” you mumble under your breath.

“Are you hurting more than usual, or…?”

“It’s… it was always bad painwise, but… since my miscarriage it’s really hard mentally too,” you admit, refusing to look up from the tiled floor.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed. I’ll make you some tea, okay?”

You nod and he keeps a hand on your back as he walks you back to your bedroom, lifting the covers so you can climb in, curl up and then he tucks you in as you hold the heating pad to your stomach.

He shuffles back to the kitchen without a word, starts the kettle as he searches through your cabinets to see if he can make you something to eat.

“Here. Do you need some medicine maybe?” he asks, playing the mug on your nightstand.

“Already took some.”

“Alright. Try to sleep, okay? I’ll stay, let me know if you need anything.”

You fall asleep listening to Harry moving around outside your bedroom. You don’t even have the energy to worry about him seeing your messy home.

You have no idea how late it is when you wake up, but it’s dark outside. Your cramps are gone,the heating pad has cooled down and your mouth is ridiculously dry. The door is left ajar and some dim light is coming through the crack, illuminating the mug you remember Harry left on your night stand, the once hot tea is not room temperature, but you chug it down eagerly before getting out of bed.

First you go to the bathroom and then you start looking for Harry, finding him on the couch in the living room, the TV is on, but the volume is so down, it’s almost on mute. It seems like he is right about to dose off, you almost turn around and let him sleep, but then the floor creaks under your feet and his head snaps up.

“Hey! You’re up,” he softly says, sitting up straight as you join him on the couch.

“Yeah. What time is it?” you ask, rubbing your eyes as he checks his phone.

“It’s half past ten. You slept for like, four hours.”

“Ah fuck,” you exhale, pulling your legs up as you lean against the back of the couch, facing Harry. “You’ve been here all along?”

“Yeah, I made some soup for you, cleaned the kitchen up and I fixed the tap, it was leaking. I’ve been just watching TV for the past hour.”

“Wait, you fixed the tap?” you ask, eyes going wide.

“Yeah.”

“Y-you didn’t have to do that.”

“Y/N, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. How are you feeling?”

“Better. I’m sorry you got stuck here while I was sleeping.”

“I wasn’t stuck,” he shakes his head. “And I’m always happy to spend time with you. Even when you’re not awake,” he adds with a chuckle.

“Thank you. It’s good to see your heart is still the same.”

“I try to keep it at the right place,” he smirks and thinks how part of it is with you, so it will always be at the best place possible.

“You don’t have to stay, I’ll be fine,” you say, your head resting on the back of the couch.

“Do you want me to stay?” You hold a short pause before nodding shyly. “Then I’ll stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Can’t be more sure. So, what are we doing? Want to watch a movie?”

“That would be great.”

You start some random movie on Netflix and as time passes by you migrate closer to each other until your head is resting on his shoulder and he has an arm around your curled up frame. You happily bask in the comfort he radiates, it makes you forget about the crisis you went through just hours ago.

It has happened before. This time of the months has been rough on you, a reminder of what you lost so it’s not only painful physically, but it takes a toll on you mentally as well. The past couple of months you spent the first two days curled up in a ball, crying your eyes out until you were able to function again.

With Harry by your side the pain has faded faster than ever, his presence created just the right amount of distraction for you to move past this hard point quickly.

When the movie ends you start another one, but you talk over that mostly, it becomes just background noise. You have no idea when, but at one point you fall back asleep. When you wake the next time the TV is still on, Netflix is trying to recommend you shows to start watching so the movie has ended a long time ago. Beside you Harry is snoring lightly, his head tipped back, lips open slightly.

However creepy it is, but you give yourself a minute to just stare at him. You haven’t been able to take a good look at him without meeting his curious gaze.

You see so much of his old, teenage self, but they are laced with maturity and change as well. His sharp jawline is impressive compared to the round cheeks he had as a young boy. His bone structure is a lot more defined, manlier, but you recognize his old self in the slope of his nose, the way his eyelashes curl against his cheeks and his lips are the same shade of pink still.

It slowly dawns upon you how fast things have changed and now you have him back in your life when just weeks ago you weren’t even talking.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way, you realize. You have such a strong connection with him, one you haven’t experienced with anyone else, not even with Drew.

Harry stirs in his sleep and a few seconds later he blinks his eyes open, trying to process what’s happening around him.

“Hey,” you smile at him softly.

“Hey. We fell asleep?” He clears his throat.

“Yeah.”

“What time is it?”

“Late,” you answer simply.

“Give me a minute and I’ll get going, I promise,” he sighs, closing his eyes again.

“Or you could just stay,” you suggest, surprising even yourself with the offer.

He blinks open one eye, then the other, as if he was waiting for you to take it back, but you’re not planning to.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Come on. My bed is comfier than this couch,” you chuckle, patting his chest gently before pushing yourself up.

“Y-you want me to sleep in your bed?”

“I don’t have a guest bedroom. You can stay on the couch, if you don’t want to sleep next to me,” you shrug, trying to look like it’s a whatever situation for you, but your heart would definitely break a little if he didn’t want to share your bed.

Luckily, he is on the same page as you.

“The bed is fine. Perfect actually,” he nods eagerly, as he stands from his spot, he turns the TV off and then follows you into the bedroom.

It’s unusual, but also feels completely comforting to get under the covers with Harry, like you’ve done this before. You both stay on your side, not mingling, but it’s still such an intimate moment you’ll probably never forget.

“Good night, Harry,” you whisper in the darkness and even though you can only make out his silhouette, you just know he is looking at you.

“Good night, Y/N.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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tmagpposting · 10 months ago

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Alice’s Attitude

and why I don’t think it’s going to save her.

I haven’t seen a lot of people talking about the implication of Alice's attitude towards the incidents and horror elements so far, so I’m going to. Someone else may have already made a post about this, but I haven’t found anything yet, and I couldn’t find a way to get this out of my mind without writing it down. Naturally, I’m also going to inflict this long-winded and potentially needless analysis on all of you, since I spent 2 hours typing it out (sorry in advance). TW for blatant overuse of parentheticals and politics towards the end. This draws on content from TMAGP episodes 1-3 and TMA overall, particularly the series finale.

I feel like a lot of us going into TMAGP and having listened to TMA already were probably pleasantly surprised by Alice’s attitude of “The Horrors? Just say no!” since a lot of TMA revolved around the idea that curiosity and investigation of the fears usually doomed people to be consumed by one of them, as we saw with a lot of the Archive staff, particularly Jon. I certainly was. Though her ideas about how to deal with the incident reports are definitely somewhat callous, in the context of TMA, they feel very pragmatic, and I found myself thinking, “finally, a character who knows what genre she’s in and refuses to surrender to it.” I’ve been seeing a couple people agree with this, and say that her approach might even help her stay afloat when things start to escalate as the conflicts of TMAGP develop in the coming episodes. I thought that too, at least for a while.

After thinking about it for several days, I don’t think this is the case. Given TMA’s themes and propensity for tragedy, and Jonny’s approach to tackling social issues, I don’t think Alice’s apathy is going to save her. In fact, I think it’s potentially going to be the character flaw that will doom her in the first place.

1. Alice already cares (not about the horrors, but about people)

To start with, I’d like to point out that Alice will only be able to maintain her apathy to a limited extent, and when people she cares about start being harmed, she is going to get involved. In fact, we can already see this happening. Ep 3 notably starts and ends with Alice making a plan to get Central IT involved in looking into their computers, when she tries to mention them to Colin in the first scene, and when she asks Sam to call them on her behalf in the final scene. I’d argue that the issue comes up because she’s concerned about Colin more than fixing the OIAR’s computers. She tells Sam it’s because Colin may not be able to handle FR3-D1 as well as he thinks he can since he’s been working on it forever with very little positive progress, but given the additional context of the starting scene, I think it’s reasonable to assume she also wants to meddle for Colin’s sake. In the first scene of ep 3, she seemingly talks more softly/slowly than usual (to me, it sounds like she’s trying to be soothing when compared to how she normally talks, even outside of the times she’s actually soothing FR3-D1), she doesn’t make too many digs at Colin as he sounds increasingly stressed, and she asks gently and subtly about calling Central IT for help when she is generally pretty direct when she seriously wants something (like all the times she repeatedly shuts down Sam’s questions because she wants him to stay out of danger). It sounds like she’s trying to slip it in as a half-joke, but Colin treats it as a genuine suggestion when he usually either brushes off her jokes or plays into them instead, so I think it was her actual intent to involve Central IT even at that point. Furthermore, Gwen tells Sam something along the lines of “Alice is the only one [Colin] tolerates” in a previous episode, they have good banter throughout so far, and Colin’s explosive reaction to Sam mentioning the app completely deflates when he learns it was Alice’s idea. All of this seemingly demonstrates a bond that goes pretty far beyond what I’d think of as a basic work relationship with no actual friendship involved. Colin is already pretty deep into investigating FR3-D1 to the point that it’s probably going to be detrimental for him based on him threatening/ranting at the computers in the first episode, and Alice is already trying to intervene on his behalf. Simply put, she is doing a pretty bad job of pretending not to care and staying out of it so far, and we’re only 3 episodes in.

With that in mind, I don’t even think Colin will be the primary reason she’ll get involved as the series goes on, and I actually think Sam is being set up to be the one to draw her into much of the conflict. She cares enough about Sam to find him a job when he’s having a rough time, based on their conversation in the bar, and she tells him not to care about the incidents precisely because she cares about him, and doesn’t want him to get sucked in and hurt by them. With Sam’s propensity for curiosity established and likely being set up to be one of his fatal flaws, Alice will probably get drawn into the conflict whether she likes it or not if/when Sam goes digging and actually stumbles on something dangerous later on. As a side note, I really do think Sam’s curiosity is being set up to be something big here, since he repeatedly wants to look into the Magnus Institute and says it’s a “blast from the past,” he wonders about how the code system works and how it could be improved, and he’s generally shown to ask a lot of questions about the OIAR, Gwen’s backstory, etc. He asks about things more often than I think he would if his questions were purely an expositional device for the audience and not actual characterization (I could make a post just about this, but I think other people have definitely already done that). Finally, our very first introduction to Alice as a character in TMAGP shows her trying and failing to be glib and uncaring about Teddy leaving, where she jokes with him casually before admitting, sincerely and somewhat hesitantly, “I’m gonna miss you.” If her failing to not care about something in the opening scene of the entire series isn’t going to turn out to be important, if not Jonny Sims style foreshadowing of some kind, I’ll eat my hat.

2. Apathy kind of sucks, actually (thematically and otherwise)

Alice being saved by her refusal to care, assuming she manages to maintain it, feels too much like an easy out for the kinds of stories TMA was trying to tell, and clashes with its sensibilities in my opinion. A lot of people fall into the trap of nihilistic apathy when thinking about the state of the world right now, and TMA even acknowledged this in the series with the Extinction beginning to emerge as a new entity/fear. Between worsening climate change, the gradual rise of bigotry and the increasing trend toward fascism in the western world (especially america, it sucks here), escalating international conflict, poverty and the worsening cost/standard of living, like the fact that a majority of people my age will probably never own a house and our college debt is going to eat us alive, etc., it feels like we’re all circling the drain and no one with the power to help is interested in doing anything other than making it worse to make themselves money. A lot of people think the only way to cope with that is to decide to not give a shit, which is a pretty natural response to being constantly confronted with worse and worse news every year that shows no sign of stopping. This has also naturally inspired a lot of doomerism and a rise in insincerity/irony poisoning and cynicism in popular culture that’s really hard to escape even if you avoid the news entirely.

However, the idea that not giving a shit about the problems in the world can somehow spare you from them is a) ludicrous, since they won’t go away if you decide to ignore them (a majority of the TMA statement givers didn’t previously know or care about the fears, and they got screwed over regardless), and b) definitely not supported by TMA’s cannon or themes. Surrendering to the idea of your own helplessness is precisely what TMA ends by specifically not doing. Jon sunk into a hopeless state of mind throughout S5, with the culmination of this process being his proposal to let the world end and allow the End to consume everything, including the rest of the fears. It wasn’t necessarily that Jon didn’t care or was apathetic, especially since one of his primary motivation was to avoid inflicting the fears on another universe, rather, he didn’t think anything could be done to stop the fears from destroying his world or whatever world they ended up in, which is the same deterministic mindset that Alice’s style of apathy stems from (“I can’t change or fix it, so I don’t care”). The other characters refusing this course of action and banishing the fears is what ultimately spares TMA’s universe from the sort of extinction it would’ve had if they’d accepted that it was hopeless and Jon had gone through with what he wanted. TMA ends with the central takeaway that you can’t give in to the idea you won’t be able to fix things because then you won’t try, and shows the characters subverting their helplessness and actually solving the problem of the fears by getting rid of it at the source (the ethics of sending the fears somewhere else are definitely debatable, but that’s a totally different post). The idea that Alice could be saved from the consequences of the problems in TMAGP’s world by choosing not to care flies in the face of the conclusion to the previous series. Alice’s refusal to care won’t save her from whatever TMAGP has in store, and judging by the events of TMA, fatalism and apathy might even seal her fate.

Some of these points of evidence might be a little bit basic “water is wet” types of statements and I probably could’ve explained this in half the time, but I really do think that Alice’s apathy isn’t going to turn out to be very useful to her and I wanted to include everything I could think of that led me to believe that.

TLDR, Alice is just as screwed as the rest of the cast, if not more so, and her attitude is not going to get her out of it.

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mallardducksaysquack · 3 days ago

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Aaaaaaaand the multifandom captor poll results are in!!!

Let’s analyse them one by one before we head out to our designated basements ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

(obviously, major spoilers for Slow Damage, Sweet Pool, Togainu no Chi, Boyfriend to Death and Manakashi no Yuri wa Akaku Somaru as well as descriptions of extreme violence)

(if you are a minor and somehow came across this post, please do NOT proceed)

I recalculated the percentages after excluding the “see answers” votes. Enjoy the MS Excel conditional formatting I had learnt for all the jobs I didn’t get.

Here's the sorted ranking with recalculated percentages:

Let’s now go through the ranking from last to first place.

8. Yuuko (Manakashi no Yuri wa Akaku Somaru) - 0% (0 votes)

No one voted for Yuuko. Very good. FUCK YUUKO.

The snuff-to-necrophilia skullfucking scene might as well have been the vilest shit I have ever seen in my life. I literally had to look away from the screen while censoring this screenshot.

6/7. (tie) - Masami Toono (Slow Damage), Manami Kanzaki (Manakashi no Yuri wa Akaku Somaru) - 2.6% (3 votes)

While I didn’t end up voting for Toono, I actually seriously considered choosing him (alongside Madarame and Taku).

To the three people who did vote for him – you got the ugliest waifu. But hey! You now live in a villa! All of your orifices are safe! Congrats!

Barely anyone has played Manakashi, so I'm positively surprised to see that a couple of Manami enjoyers have showed up.

She might seem very sadistic, but in fact she’s just a pure maiden who will do anything and everything in the name of love. And no matter whether you’ll get choked until you end up in a vegetative state or let her amputate all your limbs with a chainsaw, you’ll always have the pleasure to marry her in the end, or at least have her start planning your wedding. Long live the bride and bride!

4/5. (tie) - Strade (Boyfriend to Death), Zenya Okinaga (Sweet Pool) - 8.6% (10 votes)

Looks like the Strade voters want the hammer AND the drill.

I couldn’t understand why anyone would vote for him considering such a low chance of survival until I saw @pesikoshka reblog the poll with a tag saying “strade because he would kill me fast lmao”. Seems like the fast imminent death was in fact an effective selling point!

Genuinely trying to figure out whether the ten of you are such hardcore Zenya simps or just haven’t played the other games. Getting fucked and forced to give birth in a basement until the end of my life does not seem very appealing to me, but I mean, you do you, I guess? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

3. Kei Madarame (Slow Damage) - 14.7% (17 votes)

My personal choice – at least at the time of voting. Sure, he’ll beat the shit out of me, but at least he’ll also grant me relative freedom? I swear I did not vote for Madarame just because I’m so horny for him. This is not a waifu contest. I just like the idea of not spending the rest of my life in a basement.

@mahnati I saw your tags

and let me just say… “as it should have been”. But the nation has spoken, and we have to accept the verdict.

2. Shiki (Togainu no Chi) - 19% (20 votes)

Voting for him has never once crossed my mind. I think I must have been blinded by the fact that I don’t like him. I played TnC about 13 years ago, so my memory is very fuzzy, but I guess you were right about him being a relatively safe option?

1. Taku Murase (Slow Damage) - 44% (51 votes)

What a landslide victory! While I did not end up voting for Taku myself, I truly approve of your choice. After all, he is the literal only character on this list who doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s keeping you imprisoned for your own good. It’s just his lil silly way to protect you ;> It’s time for you to become a guinea pig for his drug research. Enjoy spending the rest of your days in Taku's basement, making sweet love while picking at each other's skin, so that the hallucinatory bugs crawling underneath it can emerge as beautiful butterflies.

That's all for today. Assembly dissolved.

Now go to your basement.

See you never ~ヾ(＾∇＾)

(unless you've voted for Madarame or Shiki - in this case we might bump into each other while roaming around some dilapidated squats and maybe pick a fight)

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longing-for-rain · 1 year ago

Note

I know you said no bait asks, and I promise this isn't, I'm genuinely curious to hear an opinion from a Zutara shipper who seems pretty rational. (I am not a kataang fan either by the way so I'm not trying to argue that or anything.). Do you believe that Zutara is a feminist relationship in comparison to Kataang? And what are your reasons for being so strongly invested in Zutara?

Hi, thanks for the ask. I’ll do my best to explain my feelings on this, but to summarize, I think there are two questions here that aren’t inherently related: a) is Zutara feminist and b) why do I like it so much. I know this might surprise you, but even though Zutara is my OTP, I don’t consider it inherently feminist. Let me explain though because that doesn’t mean it’s a bad ship at all.

Obviously, I really like the characters together. However, I won’t go ahead and say it’s the “feminist” choice over kataang, because personally I think that discussing whether a female character has a feminist narrative should not center around which man she ends up with. The primary focus should be on her narrative independently. And if she doesn’t have an independent narrative, well…that’s not feminist at all.

But I’ll answer in more detail below because I think this is an interesting distinction.

a) Is Zutara feminist over Kataang?

Like I said above…no, not inherently. I think what this question is getting at is which relationship gives Katara as a character a feminist narrative, which is a tricky question. Only one of these ships is canon, so we only know how one relationship would have played out in the eyes of the creators. Everything else is up to the interpretation of fans.

First things first, I absolutely do not think kataang, as portrayed in canon, adds to Katara’s independent narrative as a character, and certainly doesn’t contribute to any potential feminist narrative of her character. There are many instances of Katara being damseled and/or generally reduced in complexity whenever she’s placed in a “romantic” situation involving Aang. Despite Katara also being a main character, the “crush” is portrayed entirely through Aang’s POV. And post canon, Katara ends up being relegated to the role of a healer who stays home at the South Pole (this is why I could never get invested in LoK). Which, if you paid attention to her character at all, was something she explicitly stated she didn’t want to be and fought to escape. Ending her story that way reversed any “feminist” narrative set up in ATLA. So no, this is not a narrative that centers Katara and her ambitions at all.

Now onto fanon content.

The beauty of fanon is that it’s completely up to interpretation. Fans can give the characters whichever narratives they want. This goes for both Zutara and kataang. Just because your ship is canon doesn’t mean you have to adhere to canon; many canon shippers write “fix it” type content or otherwise make changes to the canon relationship to make it more appealing to them. I’m sure there are kataang shippers who rewrite their canon relationship to give Katara a feminist narrative, but to be honest the ship just doesn’t appeal to me at all so I haven’t seen those, but I’m not saying they don’t exist.

Now, Zutara. Even though there are definitely some hints in the series, there was nothing explicitly romantic between these characters in canon. So, fans are free to interpret how a relationship between Zuko and Katara would play out, and therefore Katara’s narrative within that relationship. Some people do make a strong effort to give Katara a feminist story, and in my experience, this is often a direct response to canon. But on the other side of the coin, some people absolutely…do not. It’s a big ship with lots of content. Some of it gives Katara’s character a feminist narrative, some of it…does the exact opposite of that. I think anyone familiar with the ship is probably well aware of some of the unsavory tropes associated with it so I won’t get into that.

But anyways, for any ship, there is a variety of content featuring Katara. Sometimes she’s a great warrior, sometimes she plays an important political role, and sometimes she’s just treated like a slave. Sometimes she has her own wants and ambitions and sometimes her story revolves entirely around whichever male character the author is thirsty for. Sometimes she’s treated as a complex human being and sometimes she just exists to be a fetish. Which again, goes for literally any ship and character you can think of.

So when asking yourself if Katara is given a feminist narrative, asking which man she’s paired with is asking the wrong question. Instead the focus should be on Katara herself and what the message of the story says about her.

b) Why do you like Zutara?

Although you can probably tell from the above, I do consider myself a feminist and enjoy analyzing media from that perspective. But honestly, that has little to do with why I like this relationship so much.

Sorry if this answer is boring, but I just…like them. Everyone has different tastes. For me, I was immediately drawn to them watching the show as a kid, because I’m a sucker for that sort of hurt/comfort dynamic they had going on in books 2-3. Growing up and taking a closer look, I also found that I see Zuko and Katara as having a lot of similar values and personality traits that I feel would make them compatible in a relationship. Also, there’s the fact that I just really like Katara and Zuko as individual characters so I like the fact that Zutara allows me to explore both characters by themselves, as well as how they interact together.

But if I’m being real, the final Agni Kai scene is what sold me. The emotional intensity of that scene just had me hooked for life. It’s really not much deeper than that, but yes, I’m extremely obsessed and emotionally invested in this ship.

And yes, I do write a lot of Zutara fic and do my best to give Katara independent goals and ambitions and agency as a character. I do my best to write her in a way that portrays a feminist narrative because I personally find that important. But that’s something I could apply to any ship. I don’t think it’s inherently feminist to ship Zutara, because like I said earlier, it completely depends on the individual fans and how they interpret it. I like interpreting it in a way that gives Katara individual power and goals, but that’s just me. Not everyone writes Zutara the same way.

Hope that answers your question ❄️

#katara #zutara #fandom salt #ish #pro zutara #kataang critical #well more like canon critical #ask #anon #analysis #atla #feminism

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barbiecrocs · 11 months ago

Text

The blonde bastard

Laurent Thierry

tags! teasing, begging, switching, oral(male receiving), blow job, hand job, edging, sex so good it got Laurent speaking French, alcohol consumption, low key sadistic reader, "I wanna break him"

WC. 3450

Barbie's note... Hey yall🧍‍♀️... So I know I haven't posted in a while and that yall are fed up with not having material, but I've been going through the craziest writer's block ever. Then this idea came to mind after I watched Great Pretender and everything just came out because this show has been my personality for a while😭😭. Anyway, that's all, enjoy the new year!!

You gulp as you turn your back on the consequence of making a deal with a confidence man. “The clock started ten minutes ago, mon amour. Time is ticking.” You look over your shoulder to where the voice is coming from, only to be met with Laurent entirely at your mercy, his wrists tied together behind the chair, ankles tied to the legs, and his long, heated length standing proudly by itself. A sigh leaves your mouth as you think, ‘How did I get here?’

—

“Cynthia, stop laughing! We’re being serious!” You and Edamura pout as you stop drinking the half-full glass of wine he poured for you. “Oh, I know, and I feel you. Wouldn’t we all like to make the blonde bastard fall to his knees one day? But I just can’t stop myself from laughing. Your plan is too simple. Don’t you think he’ll see right through it?” Your mouth opens to combat her, but Edamura takes the words from your mouth. “How is it simple? We’d turn on him mid-heist, take the money for ourselves, get paid by his enemies to rat out his location, and turn on them by sending them to a location with fake police and get paid off there because they don’t want to go to jail. If that doesn’t scream intricate and complicated, then I don’t know what does.” He slams on the table with each sentence to emphasize the deceitfulness of your scheme as you nod along, but none of it phases Cynthia as she sighs. “I’m only going to tell you guys this once because I don’t even like the idea, but the only plausible way to get him on his knees is sexually. Which will already be hard to do, but I don’t see him swallowing his pride otherwise.” Your breath hitches with her response, and your hands fly to hide the hot blush creeping onto your cheeks. The way that she says it without blushing or getting shy has you feeling like such a dork compared to her.

“This is where I leave the conversation, but mark my words, we’ll get him.” Edamura finishes his drink and sets it back on the table, leaving the cleaning to you. You don’t notice it, but Cynthia watches you like a hawk as you bid Edamura goodnight and down the rest of your wine. “Would you like another one?” She asks, and you nod yes, “Don’t think I could have this conversation any other way. So another glass it is.” You smile, already feeling the buzzing and heat flutter to your face. When she’s finished pouring, your lips immediately make contact with the rim of the glass as an inquiry floats into your head. Feeling bold off of liquid courage, you pop the question. “Why would you know that about him anyway?” She’s halfway through refilling her glass when you catch her by surprise. She tilts her head in confusion, still not catching on before her eyes go wide with realization, “Oh god! If you’re implying what I think you’re implying, then you’d be wrong. Trust me, we haven’t done anything like that. You have him all to yourself, hun.” You’re unsure if the heat dusting your cheeks is a blush or a drunk buzz, but you cover your face in embarrassment. “I mean, you do want him, yes?” A warm silence passes through as you think long and hard about what you really want from him. “I want to break him, his pride, wipe that playful smirk off his face, and make him genuinely beg for something. Show him that he’s not so high and mighty and knows everything just because he always acts like it. I just want to knock him down a couple of notches. The satisfaction I would have if I could do that.” You snap out of your trance when your rambling stops, only to see Cynthia looking at you as if she saw a ghost. Her mouth’s agape, her eyes wide open, and her brows almost touching her forehead. “Oh… Never in a million years would I have imagined that somebody like you would go into so much detail about something like that.” You immediately cover your mouth and begin to sink into your seat on the couch, scared that you overshared or said something completely out of pocket for even a cons man. Just then, she eagerly leans in like a nosey little kid, hands on her knees to keep herself from falling forward. “How do you plan on doing that, though?” As if to save you from the question, the man in consideration walks in unbeknownst to your attention. Cynthia begins to chug the rest of her drink before leaving the glass for you to clean up and gracefully gets up from her seat on the other side of the glass coffee table. Before you can ask where she’s going, the voice least you expected to hear at the moment makes itself known.

“A little get-together, and I wasn’t invited. How cruel. Let me guess. Edamame was here, huh? I can understand why he wouldn’t tell me, but you? I thought we were closer than that, bavarde.” He scans the area, seeing only two empty glasses before sitting half a foot away from you and pouring some wine into the glass that Edamura used. A stiff calmness passes through the air as you watch him take a refreshing swig of the expensive wine Cynthia bought. You don’t notice it, but you end up staring so hard that he catches on, watching your eyes drink in the sight of him piece by piece. Staring at his lips as they turn a slight shade of the deep red wine, his fingers as they firmly but delicately hold the glass to his mouth, and lastly, his eyes, which you only just now noticed were watching you back, causing him to smirk. The glass clinks onto the table as he turns his body towards you, laying an arm around the back of the couch. “So, you want to break me, huh?” You choke on your wine before finally finding your grounding, “I- I’m going to hit the hay-” You shoot up from your seat, but he grabs onto your wrist and pulls you down on his lap, “Oh no, don’t do that because I’d actually like to take you up on your interest.” He slides an arm around your waist, and a hand comes under your thigh to spread your legs. “I’d love to see what you can do, but I have one condition.”

—

If you can’t make me completely submit in thirty minutes, then I get to show you what I can do.

Of course, you pushed for forty minutes since you said it was unfair that he was way more experienced than you. So you might have just fucked yourself before he could with this deal. Still, you fight the urge to leave him tied up and run so you don’t go down without a fight.

After briefly giving it some thought, you finally make your move by slowly stripping everything but your underwear and straddling a very bored Laurent’s hips. You make sure not to slide his length inside but leave its aching self behind your butt. “Finally, something is happening. You know, you’ve wasted a mighty fine ten minutes sitting there-” You interrupt him, wasting no more time on thoughts and words, and begin leaving kisses along his jawline. “Oooooh. Spicy first move.”

“Shut up.” You say and begin putting your hands to work. One squeezes his cheeks together to prevent him from speaking, and the other sneaks behind you and gently rubs circles on his tip. He jerks up into your hand, and you nip his jaw as punishment, which isn’t the last time that happens. Precum begins to bead on his tip, and you gather some on your finger before putting it in your mouth while maintaining the finest eye contact. Laurent’s head falls back before you feel him buck under you. “Mhm!” You hear him bite back in his most tranquil voice. You smirk and pause your actions, “Hm? What was that?” He looks at you in muted shock from the way that you almost don’t sound like yourself. Then he sees the cloudiness in your eyes and puts two and two together that you’re tipsy. “Who are you?” You snicker at the genuineness in his voice, “The person who is going to break you.” With that answer, you slide off his lap, leaving a wet spot on one of his thighs, before dropping to your knees in front of him. You gulp before looking up at him, wondering if this is a good idea, only for him to give you a smug smile that boosts your confidence. Taking his dick into your hands, you spit on the tip as both of you watch the thin stream of warm liquid slide down to his balls, “That tickles!” You ignore his complaint and start stroking at a slow pace after spitting a couple more times regarding his pleasing length. You hum in arousal as your mouth entertains itself with his inner thighs, pressing soft kisses onto them before surprising him with a couple of nips.

“Nice try, but easing your way into this at snail speed isn’t going to break me how you want it to.” You refuse to look his way, already knowing the expression he’ll be wearing if you do, the same shit-eating grin he always has. Viewing what he said, you have no problem brewing another idea.

Feeling bolder than the last time, you don’t hesitate to start phase two of your plan. You stop nipping Laurent’s thigh and begin kissing your way to the tip of his shaft. Only then do you tease the tip gently with your teeth before finally taking it between your lips. And your lips are the only thing it touches. You focus on not bobbing your head and strictly kitten-licking the tip. He jerks up into you only to run into your teeth like a brick wall preventing him access. “If you want my mouth so bad, ask for it.” You glance at him and see his head tilted back as if the decision put his life on the line. But in reality, he was just trying to give himself time to cool down and let time fly by with his pride still intact.

The knee-jerk reaction to look at you when you lick a line up his shaft for his attention wins, and he almost gives you a facial immediately. ‘What a sight for sore eyes.’ He thinks to himself. His eyes start at the bottom, where your legs are gathered neatly under you, then your ass which you poked out for him so generously before finally moving up to your lips that glistened with spit and precum. ‘Fuuuuuck!’ He thought to himself. He wasn’t sure if it was the liquid courage in your veins or if you were just a different person when you were horny, but he was confident that you were not the same shy tsundere he was talking to in the hotel’s living room. That shy person would never touch him like this. That tsundere wouldn’t have even admitted to wanting to break him. But he’s here now, so there is something that he undoubtedly doesn’t know or have right about you.

You grab his attention by tapping his thigh since the licking wasn’t making him decide any faster. He redirects his eye line from your lips to your eyes, only to be met with the beautiful stare that captured him the first time you met him in a casino where you single-handedly scammed some rich guy for all he was worth. He clears his throat, trying to sound like he wasn’t about to pop if you breathed on him too hard. “Please, Y/n.” He asks. You frown, knowing you should be satisfied with what he gave you, but deep down, it feels like it’s not enough. Sure, he said please, but he still has that damn smug smile on his face, and he couldn’t even throw in the extra neediness you wanted. You want him to beg like it’s going to save his life, like if you don’t touch him, he’s going to die of yearning and blue balls. You need to rip that smile off his face and fast.

“I know you can do better than that, Laurent. Otherwise, I’d have to leave you high and dry. And you wouldn’t want that, would you?” You egg him on by sucking his tip harder than usual as you watch his stomach dip and do flips. He pushes out a heavy sigh of relief before you put his pleasure on hold once again and start kissing around where he needs you the most. Just when you start kissing up his length again, “Fuck, please don’t leave me hanging, bavarde.” You freeze from hearing the genuineness in his voice, and your head snaps up at him, expecting to see Laurent torn to shreds with his hair sticking to his forehead and panting faster than his ability to get a word out. But you’re met with a slightly different-looking smile. His brows furrow together while his lips shake up a tiny storm, and his teeth that you can barely see through his almost closed mouth grind together, ‘This is the hottest he’s ever looked.’

You smile at him and spit on his tip before gulping him down inch by inch until your nose reaches his pubic area. Trying your best not to gag, you move slowly while your fingers work magic that you didn’t even know you had on his balls, smiling when you hear his nails claw on the end of the armrest. “Thaf fewl gud?” You tease. Only to feel another heartbeat deep inside once you see his chest rise and fall quickly with his teeth encasing his bottom lip to suppress his heavy, serene groans, “C'est tellement bon, bébé.” He pants out, finding himself physically incapable of breaking eye contact with you even though he knows that’ll only make him finish faster. It’s just the euphoric way his cock slides down your warm, wet, and tight throat with ease that makes him want to explode a thousand times.

‘Not experienced my ass!’ He complains, regretting that he chose to go easy on you and allow you extra time. Now, he’s dangerously close to cumming down your throat as you suck all his pride away. And him cumming isn’t even the problem. It’s the matter that he held his head up so high, thinking that you wouldn’t even know what to do if you got near his dick. Then he was going to make you scream all night long once your little forty minutes were up, and you’d just keep on coming back to him when you were sexually frustrated because, in his head, there’s no way or anyone that can fuck better than him. And he was the best of all the girls he's fucked, but that other part. Oh, he is so wrong. And you’re only going to make it harder for him.

You start bobbing faster once you get comfortable with his size, even going as far as to take the opportunity to try out some stuff that you heard makes it more pleasurable for guys. You try moaning around him to produce vibrations, give him the salt and pepper to create friction when your mouth gets tired, and even ever so slightly rake your teeth along his shaft, which he wasn’t a big fan of, so you go back to the first two. “Are you close?” You ask after feeling his leg tense multiple times. “Je suis si proche.” He nods with his answer, knowing that you still aren’t as fluent as Cynthia in French, only to regret being so kind when you pull off of him. “Beg me to cum. You can’t cum otherwise.” You say, laying your head on his thigh while letting your fingers ghost up and down his very sensitive shaft. His head tilts back for the first time in a while, but you already know he’s trying to stall and let time run out. So you take it a step further and give your sore knees a rest by sitting on the end of his legs so his dick is in front of you. “No stalling. I need an answer now.” He takes no shame in staring when you start rubbing your panty-clad cunt against his erection, listening to each moan you throw in when the friction against your bundle of nerves becomes too much. “Come on, Laurent.” Words that sound like a siren’s song when said in this scenario, and he’s praying to god that he doesn’t give in when you move your panties to the side, exposing your glistening clit to the cold air. You lean forward, laying your head on his shoulder while gently grinding into and stroking his length, letting any shlick that oozes from your pussy melt onto him. “I’m waiting, Laurent.” You hear his breath hitch, and thinking you are getting a response out of him, you pop up. Only to realize that it was just him shying away from you with his eyes shut tight. Frustration begins to cloud your mind, and you grab him by his jaw, forcefully turning his head back over to you. “Laurent, you’re cheating. Honestly, I should win by default-”

“Fuck!” He stiffly shoots out. “My… My answer is no!” Your teeth begin to grind until you feel his cock twitch with need in your hand. Realization and confidence paint a smile across your face, “Are you sure? Because your mind is trying desperately to resist my touch, but your body is falling victim to it so hard.” He shakes out of your grip and looks away once more, “I am sure.” You groan, “Then you leave me no choice.” You stroke him a couple of times before lining his dick up at your entrance, taking three fingers to transfer your shlick to the tip of his cock for easier access. The sensation is mythical in he has to clench every muscle in his body to not jerk into you, knowing that he’s going to explode during penetration. “Say goodbye to your pride. There is no way in hell you can come back after cumming on the first pump.” You probe him at the entrance a few times, getting ready to sink onto him, but before you can. ‘Bloob, bloob, bloob, bloob, bloob.’ rings three times on the Apple watch Laurent is wearing. A heavy sigh is exiled from his mouth as all you can think is how close you were while untying him.

But it’s hard to feel bummed when you catch a hot glimpse of Laurent greedily finishing himself off. His head lolling back onto the back of the chair with his bangs sticking to his forehead due to the sweat. Both of his hands double-fisted his length as fast but gently as possible before deciding that one was enough and started tweaking his nipples with the free hand. Then, his long legs stretch out, taking up more room than needed as they twitch with each jerk. And lastly, the string of curses that you swore you’ve heard your name floating around once or twice, which you certainly did.

He delivers his last thrusts into his hand before cumming and collapsing back into the chair with a more fucked out expression than before. You roll your eyes and start gathering your clothes, “What are you doing?” He asks, immediately hopping out of his chair as if he didn’t just have the most insane and unhinged-looking orgasm ever. “I’m getting dressed to head back to my room, obviously. Why else would I be getting dressed? To sit around here? No.” You retort, prepping your shirt to put it on.“You must not remember the other half of the deal.”

“Nope, I remember it just fine. I just figured that since you orgasmed right now, you’d be all done for the night.” You’d think he saw you as a clown or comedian because before you got the last word out, he was hysterical while rolling on the floor laughing. “No, no, no, no, no. That isn’t how this is going to play out because I have stamina and libido for days, and I haven’t had sex for a while, but I do have you here. Ready to fuck. And I'd be the dumbest man alive to watch you walk out of here after the torture you just put me through. So I think it’s time that I show you what I can do.”

Should I post part two?😵‍💫😋

#smut #laurent thierry smut #laurent smut #thierry smut #laurent thierry x reader smut #laurent thierry #great pretender smut

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monsterfuckerconfessions · 1 year ago

Note

For several years now I’ve been wanting to buy a knotted dildo (why do they never have smaller ones) but my dad often helps me with finances because I’m really bad at math and I would be super embarrassed if he found out. I doubt he would be mad at finding out I’m a monsterfucker, but it WOULD be super awkward, especially since a lot of knotted ones are labeled “dog” I don’t want my family to have an even worse impression before I can explain! Maybe it would be easier if I could drive and try to find in-person shops and pay in cash, but I have a health problem that makes me driving illegal sometimes, so that’s not a practical option. I know you aren’t supposed to use things that weren’t designed to go inside of your body, but I’ve been using an old detachable razor handle for years because of this. I don’t know what to do! I don’t think my dad pays much attention to what I buy but if something is flagged as unusual by the bank, they will sometimes call him about it. I’m not sure what I should do. I haven’t even bought a regular sex toy because I’m self conscious about this, let alone one like that!

I’m the “my dad helps me balance my checkbook and I’m terrible at math but I want a dildo” anon, and you don’t have to post this part if it’s too uncomfortable. That’s why i didn’t include it in my first ask. But the only time I had a friend offer to help me buy one that friend later died before it could happen so… I don’t really have anyone around to ask for assistance in… this. I know these aren’t your usual confessions, but i don’t really know where else to confess to this. The only other friend I think might possibly have helped me, moved a state away and i don’t want to bother her about it. I joke about being a freak sometimes but I really doubt my older family who might have heard me say that actually expects me to consider “freaky” something beyond oral. I’m not… I’m shy and wasn’t raised by people who were into much extreme stuff (my parents didn’t even swear around us until we were all over 16, and even now they don’t do it much! There are slurs I didn’t even know existed until senior high and my parents never used them! For obvious reasons. Which is good, but gives an idea of what I mean when I say not extreme. Even my grandparents are/were like this) so I’ve been told that it’s surprising when i tell a friend about these things for the first time. Coming out as demisexual wasn’t nearly as stressful to be honest, that might be weird but admitting my (admittedly not super exciting among this community) kinks feels shameful and humiliating for some reason. Telling a close friend is different I guess. My parents aren’t conservative people, not politically or in many other ways, but they definitely don’t know much about kinks. I can say that with confidence, I’ve read the romance novels my mom had lying around and I’ve seen them react genuinely shocked when something a little crazy happens in a show we’re watching. I just think I might have super vanilla family (in the 25 years I lived with them the most spicy things I encountered were those romance novels and what might have been lube) and I’m sure they would react, if not badly, just awkwardly. It would be super uncomfortable. They are the kinds of people to hear about that, look slightly horrified, say “okay” and just avoid talking about it after that, but every time a conversation gets too close to that everyone is awkward and avoids it. It’s like when someone is trying to talk about politics and everyone has to kind of bite their tongue or a shouting match will start while we’re trying to watch the mandalorian, just less aggressive, so not exactly the same, just similarly uncomfortable. This one also got longer than I meant it to. I don’t expect that my parents would disown me or anything, but it would change some things (although because my mom and I accidentally shared a kindle account when I was in highschool I’m pretty sure she knows I’m into monster romance novels) sex isn’t really a taboo topic, but it’s also not a comfortable one

#monsterfucker confessions

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ryuichirou · 11 months ago

Text

Replies

More replies! :)

hipsterteller asked:

I saw the artwork of Jade and Rook, and the only thing I could say is-

"Oh please tell me they didn't kill someone"

Anonymous asked:

Yep, both weirdos doing weird stuff. Also, context on their murder?

I really love how the first ask is in denial, hoping for the best, and the second one is “alright who did they kill this time” LOL

Unfortunately though, there is no context, I’m just sure this is something both of them do, so it’s only a matter of time until they stumble upon each other. It would definitely be funny…

I keep joking about Jade just feeding randos with his mushrooms, even though it’s not really how mushrooms work, but I’ll keep telling this joke until the day I die and get buried in the forest myself lol

Anonymous asked:

MEGARA!

YES!!!!! <3 <3 <3

Your childhood crushes really cement one’s type… we rewatched Hercules about a year ago, and it really made me remember just how much I loved this girl.

Anonymous asked:

seeing idia in a consensual relationship/situation with azul is like a jumpscare on this page

Thank you Anon!! I’m genuinely happy that you’re so used to seeing messed-up stuff that anything wholesome seems surprising lol We really do have our preferences…

But if that makes it easier, with these two it’s almost always just a fleeting moment before they start arguing again over something super unimportant or messing up each other’s lives. There is no way these could actually coexist without it lol

Anonymous asked:

Ironically enough if Azul was Regina I could see Vil being a decent Janis

He doesn't share a lot of the same fashion traits as her but he is honest and can hold a grudge for a long time

(this is related to one reply from this post)

Wow, Vil as Janis is something I never considered. This type of pettiness is closer to Vil’s, that’s true lol

Jamil would also maybe work as Janis.

But now all I can think about is Vil in a grungy-punky look… a complete delusion, but an aesthetically pleasing one.

Anonymous asked:

This sounds a bit too mean (to Malleus), but what reactions do you think he may have if Lilia's fucking him and accidentally moans his mother's name instead 👀

Since we can’t say anything about ch7 yet (still haven’t watched it), so there might be any specific aspect that I’m missing, but in general I’m pretty sure Malleus is going to be super damn pissed if Lilia moaned any name that isn’t his while they have sex lol He might even get angry and destroy everything and only then go “wait what?” realising what the name was.

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

I might bombard the inbox with thoughts so sorry in advance! I lowkey see Sebek and Silver starting as a thing after realizing Malleus and Lilia were a thing (I find the idea Silver having the Windows reloading sound in his mind as he’s like “Ooooooooh” when realizing his two dads are lovers really funny), and I’m currently writing a fic based of Ch.7 where Sebek kissed Silver finally during the fight, making them official finally

No worries, as long as you don’t mind waiting. You know how it is with me and replies lol, but I’m slowly but surely replying to everything.

Bonding over the trauma of realisation that Malleus and Lilia are a thing lol well jokes aside, it’s probably not as traumatic for Silver, but the realisation could still be the “oh” moment for sure. Let Malleus and Lilia be an example for the younglings lol

Good luck with your fic!^^

Anonymous asked:

Hear me out: Fem Idia with the song Worst Taste In Girls by Charley

Alright now that I’ve finally listened to the song!

She really does have the worst taste in girls… Although, she has even less autonomy in her love life than the heroine of the song unfortunately lol But Idia is prone to thinking that whenever things go kinda well, it’s never going to last long.

#replies

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gingerjunhan · 1 year ago

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somebody else - goo gunil

☆彡 hi besties, this is my first work after coming back to school, so sorry if she isn’t the best. I was really in the mood to write some comforting stuff for Gunil, so I cooked this up. Enjoy :)

word count: 946 | pronouns used: none | genre: hurt comfort, established relationship | cws: reader struggles with self confidence, crying, Gunil calls reader “beautiful”, lmk if I missed any

Another day home alone meant another day of scrolling through social media. You had been on Instagram for probably 30 minutes, scrolling through the comments of your boyfriend’s most recent post and looking at all of the fans.

Today was one of the days where your self confidence wasn’t the best. You’ve been in a slump lately, and today was definitely your worst day in a while. It was probably because Gunil had to go into the studio for a few hours, so you were left alone with your thoughts on a Friday evening when you could’ve been in your boyfriend’s arms instead.

You clicked on another comment under the post you were currently looking at. The profile picture showed a girl who looked to be about your age. She was pretty- all of her features seeming to be the exact opposite of yours. Her profile picture was her at the gym, wearing a cute matching set of workout clothes that showed off her shape well. Despite the fact that she had just finished a workout, she still somehow looked perfect.

I haven’t even thought about going to the gym. You admitted to yourself mentally. Gunil keeps asking me to join him but I keep turning him down. Maybe I should go.

You were so busy wallowing in your own self pity that you didn’t hear the door open. It wasn’t until Gunil greeted you as he walked in the room that you finally noticed him.

“Hey baby, I’m home.” Gunil came and leaned over the couch to plant a kiss on your cheek. “Sorry I took so long today.”

“It’s okay,” you said to him, trying to sound happy to see him. As you looked up at Gunil, you couldn’t help but notice how good he looked.

He was wearing very casual clothing- just a t-shirt and some jeans- but he looked so good. The way his sleeves fell over his shoulders, being just short enough to show off his arms. The fabric of his shirt that tucked itself into his waistband, causing just enough tension in the fabric to show off his toned chest. How he opted to wear his glasses today, which always seemed to amplify his beautiful facial features. He was so handsome, you just couldn’t imagine what a guy like him saw in someone like you.

You must’ve been staring for a little too long, because Gunil took notice of the look that crossed over your face. “(Y/N)? Are you okay, love?”

You shook your head slightly, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “Oh, yeah. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? You seem upset.” Gunil finally took a seat next to you, setting a hand on your knee. “What’s the matter?” A brief silence fell over the room as you felt your emotions begin to take over.

“I…” you looked him in the eye, but then quickly looked away. “I don’t understand what you see in me.” Your voice was no louder than a whisper, but it was still there. You decided to be truthful with him, seeing that your options were to tell him the truth, or lie to him and keep feeling this way.

“What?” Gunil sounded genuinely surprised. “(Y/N), what do you mean?”

“You have so many fans who are so much prettier than me, Gunil. I don’t do anything special, and I’m not very pretty. I don’t see why you don’t just leave me for someone better.”

Genuine sadness washed over Gunil’s face, and you couldn’t help the tears that began to prick at your eyes. “Oh, honey no.” He pulled you into his arms, and you were quick to collapse into him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in the crook of his neck. “(Y/N), you’re so beautiful. Who could ever make you think otherwise about yourself?”

You refused to look at him, so you mumbled your reply into his neck. “I’ve seen your fans, Gunil. I’m nothing compared to them.”

Gunil took one of his hands that was wrapped around you and brought it up to start stroking your hair as he felt hot tears hit his skin. You were both holding each other so tightly, as if one of you was going to disappear.

“(Y/N), I love you. You know this. You could be in the middle of a crowd of all my fans, and I’d still look for you. You’re the most beautiful and important person in my life, okay? There’s no way I would choose someone else over you.” He spoke slowly, like he was making sure you heard every word. There was a moment of silence before either of you spoke again. Gunil was supporting you silently as you took a moment to collect yourself. Once you pulled away from him, you could finally look him in the eye.

“I didn’t mean to spring this all on you, I just haven’t been feeling the best lately.” You were once again choosing to be honest with him, knowing that he would support you no matter what. “I guess today was just a bad day.”

“And that’s okay,” Gunil reassured you. “I’ll be here for you through every bad day to help you turn it around.” He cupped your cheek with one of his hands, giving you a feather-light kiss before leaning his forehead on yours. “I love you so much,” he whispered in the space between you. “There’s nobody I’d rather be with than you.”

“Thank you,” you told him softly. “I needed to hear that.”

“I’ll remind you every day if I have to, my love. I don’t want to be with anybody but you.”

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #gunil x reader

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ficbrish · 1 year ago

Text

To Belong

Rating: Explicit 18+ only!

[AO3 Link]

[Kinktober 2023 prompt thanks to @absurdthirst! October 6th - Collar/Leash]

[[TW/CW: Dom drop, cptsd, blood, alcohol, smoking, choking, service, oral]]

Summary: Astarion and Vistri seek the help of old friends for a bit of kink coaching.

Takes place during post-canon (about 4 years after). There are SPOILERS FOR THE ENDGAME OF BG3 directly under the line!

Penance is my friend's OC and we co-wrote the group scenes. The AO3 link has more information and where you can find their companion smut to this. Which is ❤️‍🔥

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

Astarion had a roguish glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face. His hands were hidden behind his back, and it looked as though he were holding something as he strutted over to Vistri in their bedroom.

“Uh oh.”

He smiled, concealing a cheeky chuckle, “I haven’t even said anything.”

Vistri stepped closer to rest her hand on him. Her fingers found their home on his chest, and she appreciated the beating of his undead heart. It fluttered as if he were nervous.

“You don’t have to say anything. I can just tell.”

Like they shared some sort of secret, Astarion leaned forward and bent low to speak in her ear, “Now that I’m here, might as well give us a kiss.”

Vistri moved a curl away from his forehead, positively beaming. Astarion wore that soft, mischievous look of his; one of many ways he showed his adoration. So she brought her mouth up to his. That little moan he always let out whenever their lips met made, “I love you,” slip from Vistri’s tongue as she pulled away.

“I don’t think I caught that. Be a dear and repeat it for me.”

“You didn’t hear?” she teased, “Let me get closer then.” Vistri nestled her lips against his earlobe and whispered, “I love you, Astarion.”

He shivered pleasantly, just a little bit. Then she kissed his cheek affectionately before taking a step back.

The way he was looking at her was worth a whole other fight with another Netherbrain.

“And I love you, dearest Vistri,” he declared with his entire heart in his eyes.

Humming with satisfaction, she asked, “What is that behind your back?”

“A delightful little surprise,” he brought his hands around to present her with a box that was wrapped up in pretty paper.

Vistri couldn’t help the smile on her face, “You thought of me?!”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I think of you all the time! A normal, healthy amount. Just every morning, noon, and night—And all the seconds inside them.”

Laughing, she tore at the giftwrap, “I only meant it’s not a holiday or anything.”

“I don’t need a special occasion. Just you, my love, to inspire me. Now stop staring at me and open that gods damn box before I get too excited and spoil the surprise!”

“I’m opening it! Gods!” Vistri protested, feigning offense.

She lifted the lid and moved aside the tissue paper. Vistri looked back at Astarion with the biggest eyes, “You didn’t!”

He seemed genuinely pleased with himself, “I just wanted to make another of your dreams come true.”

On top of a velvety bed sat a collar. And not just any collar, but the collar. It was made of dragon scale leather and inlaid with opals and pearls.

“It matches my face!”

“That’s not too macabre, is it? I thought it was cute, but then I thought—”

“Astarion! It’s perfect!”

Vistri enveloped him in the biggest bear hug her little arms could manage, smashing into him with such force that Astarion almost toppled over. He could feel her hot breath seep through his clothing. Speaking with her face still tight against his chest, she asked with muffled concern, “But… Are you sure?”

They’d talked about doing something like this a few times over the years. Vistri yearned for his collar ever since she fell in love with him, but Astarion had been traumatized in a kennel. Astarion, being the person he was, tried to convince her he’d be fine, but Vistri didn’t want it if it wasn’t for him too. Being owned and belonging to him in the way a collar represented came from a resilient need for restoration and reclamation. It wasn’t just about Astarion feeling ready, he had to want it in the same way. It couldn’t be something he put himself through just to make her happy. It had to be something they both re-enacted in order to heal.

“I want us to have fun and live our lives the way we want,” Astarion answered, “I’m tired of Cazador still having his way with parts of my mind. I want to take back everything he’s taken, and I want to do it with you.”

Vistri had tears in her eyes, she was so happy, “It means everything to me that you trust me with this, and I promise to do everything to keep you safe.”

Astarion held her tight, resting his head on top of hers. They stood there embracing for a good few minutes before breaking apart.

“And I will do the same,” he promised.

They started slow, with Vistri simply wearing the collar around for a few days. Astarion could see her in it, knowing what it meant, and sit with how that felt before getting into anything more intimate. She’d wear it for benign conversations or reading a book. She’d take it off for any serious moments or prolonged physical contact.

Years ago, Vistri consulted Shadowheart about eventually navigating something like this with Astarion.

“It’s not that I lack experience in this…”

“Area?” Shadow suggested, “Field of study?”

“Exactly!” Vistri continued, “It’s just, all my experiences were with people who took what they wanted and didn’t consider me.”

Karlach would have scooped her into a sweeping hug, but Shadow just passed the wine and explained everything she could. And that was exactly why Vistri was admitting this in Shadow’s tent versus anyone else’s.

She explained concepts to Vistri like aftercare, Dom drop, and the simple idea of taking things step-by-step in your own timing.

“It can be easy to fall into the trap of feeling like the villain,” Shadow admitted, “The healing part is… I don’t know. Maybe it’s just doing the things that were done to you, but with everyone feeling good and okay instead of… what it actually was.”

During their trial period, as Vistri and Astarion referred to it, they would check in with each other a lot to see how things were settling. One night as they sat together on one of their sofas, Astarion answered, gently toying with the collar around her neck.

“It’s absolutely stunning on you.”

The feeling of his fingers lightly brushing along her throat drove Vistri wild, but she needed to stay grounded if she was going to keep Astarion grounded too.

“I love it almost as much as I love you. Your taste is immaculate, my dear.”

Astarion giggled happily, warm and secure, “I could have picked any old bit of leather, and you would wear it like perfection.”

“But you didn’t just pick any old bit of leather.”

“I did not,” he chuckled, “I searched and searched until I found the very best one, because you deserve no less.” He playfully poked the bridge of her nose for emphasis on the word, you.

Vistri stroked his hair, “I’ll happily be your prized pet.”

“My beloved, cherished pet…" Astarion smiled dreamily, "I rather like that.”

“I like that too.”

“Is that what this is then?”

“Do you want it to be?” Vistri checked, “That—Does it feel good to you?”

“It feels sort of wonderful, actually. Does it feel good for you?”

“Oh, it feels lovely!” she answered affectionately.

After discovering what it would mean to them, they decided to take it a step further. Vistri would wear her collar, and they’d go about their evening as usual. This time, however, Astarion would ask her to take off bits of clothing until she wore nothing else.

Vistri sitting by the fire was the picture of contentment. Flickers of light caught on the opals in her collar, making them dance. And Astarion would stare at her.

Before saying something like, “And now your shirt, my dear.”

Her eyes grew more eager with every article shed. Astarion kept asking how she felt, knowing each time the answer would be the verbal manifestation of everything sitting in her expression.

Then he’d tell her how that made him feel, “I love watching you choose to do what I want you to do.”

Since that went so well, they got confident. A couple nights later, Vistri was again left wearing nothing but her collar. Swept up by her existence that night, Astarion gave her a new kind of command.

Every moment between them was a little more intense than usual. They saw each other a little brighter, felt the ache of their love in a different way, and that filled them with the rush of brand-new lovers. It was just one of those days where they looked at each other with fresh eyes and were stunned by the sheer perfection they found in front of them. The heat on Vistri’s face grew as abundant as the slick between her thighs.

That night, she moaned every time Astarion asked her to take off another piece of clothing.

It made him feel greedy.

“Come over here,” he beckoned with a nod.

Vistri stopped performatively searching the bookshelf and turned with a smirk. “I know that tone,” she teased.

Astarion patted the spot on the sofa next to him and pouted, “Come be a good girl for Daddy.”

Vistri blushed and walked over immediately.

Astarion laughed appreciatively when she sat down, “Oh, you liked that. I can tell.”

Speechless, she bit her lip and smiled.

“Now why don’t you lay back for me, darling? I want to admire your form, and I can do it so much better when you’re in that position.”

She did as he suggested.

“That’s it, love.”

Astarion performed that predatory expression he wore so well; the one she trusted so much. “Now spread your legs for me,” he demanded with a sweeping, vampiric wave of his hand.

She did as he asked. Smirking, he moved closer, and she whimpered as he stroked her thighs. The anticipation of his touch almost outshined his actual touch. Her body knew his as the source of years of passionate ecstasy, and on top of that, it was the safest one hers had ever known. It gave itself to him entirely at the barest brush, at the least bit of attention. And here Astarion was, paying her every drop of attention and holding Vistri in both hands.

She cried out his name and wriggled under his fingers. All he had to do was run his palms up and down her thighs, and her want for him turned into madness. It was delicious enough to earn her praise, “How you purr for me when I pet you…”

“Please,” Vistri writhed, helpless; begging, “Take everything. I’m all yours.”

Astarion played with her until he couldn’t help himself. He ordered Vistri to help him undress, then claimed the home he found between her legs. They left her collar on for a while, but Astarion took it off to sink his teeth into her neck. It was the one thing they owned that they couldn’t afford to ruin with bloodstains.

Completely carried away with each other and the moment, they went a step further. Vistri screamed his name so sweetly it inspired Astarion to say, “That’s it, show us who you belong to.”

She shouted his name at every thrust, and once she started crashing around him, Astarion groaned and muttered, over and over, that he owned her. He fucking owned her. It went on for a while before he whined, spilling into her. As he rode out his pleasure, Vistri joined him in it and screamed that she was his. She was completely his.

It was a wonderful moment, but it settled over Astarion afterwards in a weird way.

Not immediately after either.

They checked in with each other as usual, and both felt fantastic. They kissed each other’s fingers and held each other; talked about everything and nothing for hours. Then they went into their trances, blissfully wrapped around each other.

It wasn’t until the next day, when Vistri secured the collar around her throat, that either of them noticed he was bothered. Astarion was excited one moment and in the next, shuddered, almost imperceptibly.

“Are you all right, darling?” she asked immediately.

The corner of his mouth lifted with a little smile, but Astarion was obviously shaken. “I’m not sure,” he questioningly stated.

“Why don’t we sit for a bit?” she suggested, carefully taking off her collar, “Hold on, it’s stuck.”

“Let me get that for you,” he tapped her shoulder, and she turned around for him to finish undoing the clasps.

Astarion looked lighter once it was off. Like some weight had lifted.

“What changed?” she asked, concerned.

He sat down next to her, “You know, I’m really not sure.”

Resting his head in her lap, Vistri played with his curls. She made a concentrated effort to hold her tongue, wanting him to have the silence he needed, and wouldn’t speak until he was ready to speak.

“It’s not like we really did or said anything we haven’t done or said before…” he started before trailing off.

“But not with a collar.”

“No, not with a collar."

Vistri swallowed the guilt and blame bubbling up over her reason. His curls were her final tether to reality, petting them gently to steady herself, “We don’t have to—”

“But I want to! That’s the tricky bit of it all. I like what we did, and it made me feel… I don’t know… Powerful and powerless all at once. And the powerlessness snuck up on me. I didn’t even know it was there until I saw you put on your collar again.”

“I’m so sorry, love.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Neither do you,” Vistri assured him. Then she asked, “Do you know what made you feel powerless?”

He thought about it, “It’s not about hurting you—You enjoy it too much for those kinds of thoughts to take purchase. Visibly, audibly—”

“Astarion!” Vistri laughed, more from relief than anything else. If he was joking again, he was starting to feel better, more himself.

“What? You just really, really, obviously adore the things I do to you. And I think that deserves to be stated out loud as often as possible.”

She raised an amused brow, “You’re getting off-topic.”

“Right!” he agreed, “Where was—Oh! Right. The powerless thing. As I said, it’s not about hurting you or doing something to you that you don’t want. It’s more about… I feel wrong for wanting you to belong to me. It isn’t about doing something that I don’t want to do. It’s about me wanting to do it in the first place.”

“It’s perfectly okay to want those things. Even with everything that’s happened.”

“I know. It just feels that way anyway.”

They just sat in that together.

Eventually, Vistri had an idea, “You know who we could always ask about this?”

Astarion chuckled, knowing exactly what she was about to suggest, “Jenny and her pretty Penny?”

“Yes! It’s about time we have them over to stay again.”

v---v v---v v---v v---v v---v

The four of them were absolutely delighted to see each other. Shadowheart and Penance looked the same as they always did, but entirely different too.

Shadow’s shock-white hair was even longer but rather than the tight, chained style she’d worn when they traveled together, she sported a softer braid. Penance had hers pulled up too, but neither had a hair out of place despite the dirt on their cloaks indicating a recent scuffle with something nasty. Penance towered over Shadowheart even more than Astarion did Vistri. His shoulders were broad, but Pen’s were broader. They were a visual contrast that made Astarion and Vistri look matched in comparison. All this to say, the tiefling was quite big. It even looked like she’d put on more muscle in the past six months. She had a few new scars too.

But it hadn’t been that long. Not really. Half a year, actually, but when you all used to live and fight together, even a week apart felt like a few years. The last time they’d all seen each other had been at Shadow and Pen’s farm, so seeing them again at their manor made it feel like even more time passed than it did.

Exclamations, hugs, and kisses exploded from the open door. Shadowheart was unusually animated, handing out such physical affections freely. Peace seemed to suit her; living in its safety had brought her to life. Penance, her stalwart sweetheart, was far more subdued by comparison, but no less affectionate. She offered Astarion a warm handshake and Vistri a kiss on the cheek. Even through their various greetings, Shadowheart and Penance always had a funny way of devoting a corner of their attention to each other at all times, as if there was an invisible tether between them.

“May we come in?” Shadowheart asked with a wink to Astarion.

“Why aren’t you a sweetheart! Yes, please step inside.”

Vistri noticed Pen wasn’t wearing her collar yet, and put her hand up to hers in blushing embarrassment.

Shadowheart could see Vistri’s discomfort for what it was and reassured her she wasn’t doing anything wrong, “It’s fine that you’re already wearing it—Moonmaiden’s mercy! It’s absolutely stunning! Astarion, what did you do? Sell a whole city?”

He laughed as they all stepped further in, “How little you think of me! I’d rob half the Upper City before selling anything.”

Everyone could feel Penance, the staunch Paladin of Lathander, tense up a little at the idea.

“Now, now, Pen,” Shadow purred, “Remember our friends and their little jokes.”

Vistri and Astarion shared a look from the corners of their eyes.

Penance insisted on taking their bags into their room despite the abundance of well-paid servants that swarmed them in the foyer.

“It’s no trouble,” she insisted, blushing under her blue-grey skin as she dismissed them.

They had a before-dinner catch up in the lounge by the fire. The deep glow of the Underdark shone through the windows.

“Sorry about the lack of sunlight, Pen,” Vistri apologized, noting their slight unease, “And the moon, Shadow.”

Shadowheart waved off her concern, “Darkness still has its moments. As for Pen…”

Her shoulders were tense, and she cleared her throat, “The light of the Dawnfather comes from within just as much as without.”

Shadowheart chuckled a little and took her hand to kiss it as if to say, What am I going to do with you?

They got the usual conversations out of the way first. Shadowheart had brought a new litter of kittens to the farm. Penance had just finished a new addition to the estate. There’d been a bit of drama between Astarion’s brothers and sisters. Lae’zel was still at war, but it was going well. Gale confirmed again there were no signs of new Elder Brain activity. They’d all gotten the same box of cigars from Karlach and Wyll.

“Well, now that we’re basically all caught up,” Shadowheart segued, “Let’s talk about why we’re all here.”

“You mean other than just to adore you two in person?” Vistri remarked with genuine flattery.

“Shadowheart said you two were exploring and that we could help. Right?” Penance asked.

Shadow placed a hand lovingly on her knee, “Precisely, love. Not to mention dinner.”

“Speaking of dinner,” Astarion said, “We still haven’t dismissed the cook in case you need any help preparing it, Pen. I know you’ve insisted, but you can always change your mind.”

Penance shook her head resolutely, “I will not change my mind. I’ve been planning this all week.”

“She wants to, Asty. Besides, Penance loves to show me all the ways she can serve, don’t you?”

The large tiefling shot her a million-gold smile. She did.

Astarion crossed his legs and languidly sat back, “Well, far be it from me to get in the way. When should we officially begin?”

“First, I’d like to reiterate what I’ve said before. However the two of you decide to explore is perfectly fine. For us, the collar is a symbol of our devotion to one another. I ordain and Penance serves. While her collar is on, she defers to me in all things. Her focus is mine. She is mine,” Shadowheart said.

Penance hung on to every word and a grin slowly spread across her face. The air shifted around them ever so slightly, charged with anticipation.

“Exactly so,” she added, “My primary attention will be on Shadowheart, so forgive me if I’m not much for conversation.”

“Typically, we keep to our roles quite strictly, but since this is all new for you, we’re happy to make exceptions as you learn,” Shadowheart finished.

Astarion tipped his head genuinely, “Thank you.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Penance smiled.

It was so easy to see why those two served the sun and the moon. Brightness poured out of the Paladin, and the Cleric was more than happy to soak up her every ray and reflect it right back. They tempered each other, complimented one another.

“You are our friends, and you know us well,” Shadowheart warned, “but we are a bit different when we’re playing formally. If anything happens that doesn’t sit right with you for any reason…”

“Safe word is ‘Barcus’,” Vistri finished for her.

“Right. Ours is ‘Netheril’.”

“Rest assured,” Pen said, “It pleases me greatly to serve.”

Gods, Shadowheart practically giggled, “Isn’t she darling?”

Penance leaned in for a kiss that was met with equal fervor.

“They are so sweet,” Astarion said to Vistri.

Vistri had a smile on her face she couldn’t get rid of, “Do you think we’re that sweet from the outside?”

“We can hear you talking about us, you know,” Shadow said.

“We know,” Astarion quipped, “That’s why we’re saying it.”

Penance gave Shadowheart a final peck and then made for the kitchen. There was work to be done and she was eager to do it. Not to mention the fact that, though she loved Vistri and Astarion dearly, she could never quite settle in their presence. They were always unpredictable and bursting with energy; difficult to keep up with at length. Rather than trying, she preferred to show her affection in other ways.

A servant approached her on her way to the kitchen, but she waved him off.

“No need to fuss over me. You will have to plate everything though. You know that’s not my gift,” Penance winked.

While she cooked, Shadowheart went over everything a second, third, and fourth time. But it was nice because it gave Astarion a chance to talk to her about what happened the other night. Vistri tried her best to just watch and not chime in. Shadowheart could understand him in a way she couldn’t in this instance. Shadow and Astarion were the people who held the leash, and they were platonic friends instead of sexual partners. As Astarion’s expression shifted from anxiety to relief and then joy, it became easier and easier for Vistri to sit back and stay quiet.

When Penance finally came back into the room, she was holding her collar.

Hers was the complete opposite of Vistri’s but commanded just as much presence. Made of restored leather and backed with reinforced steel; it was plain except for a singular moonstone. It was well-worn and loved even before they’d found it in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, and since having it repaired, it was obviously well-worn and loved again.

“Oh, that’s lovely!”

Penance politely dipped her head, “Thank you, Vistri.” Then she approached Shadowheart and presented the collar to her.

“This means she’s ready,” Shadowheart explained, “Are you two ready?”

Vistri and Astarion looked to each other and nodded.

“Yes,” they both said.

Shadow looked from them to Penance. Once her eyes were on her lover, she needed only to nod. Penance lowered herself to her knees. Even so, she was still so tall.

“Can you be good for me?” Shadowheart asked.

“Yes.”

The air between them was thick with trust and care. Shadowheart smiled and buckled the collar around Pen’s neck. For a brief moment, it was as if the world around them had ceased to exist and was born anew between them. As the moment passed, Shadowheart turned to Vistri and Astarion.

“Pen gives me her collar to let me know she’s ready. And then I put the collar on her as my way of letting Pen know I’m ready.”

Vistri looked to Astarion. There was a thoughtful, delighted smirk on his face, “Hmmm, I think I like that.”

“Would you like me to take it off so you can put it on me, my dear?” Vistri asked.

Astarion smiled warmly, “I just might!”

Vistri turned around so he could unclasp it. Once it was off, he offered it back to her. She accepted with a bright smile before giving it back to him.

He smirked, “Come sit on my lap.”

Vistri felt her heart flutter as she took to her perch. His smell was all around her. She could feel his chest against hers, and the movement of his relaxed breath.

“There you are,” he said as he secured it back around her throat, “Now the whole world can see how darling we are to each other. And by the world I mean Shadowheart, Penny, and the servants.”

Penance glared at Astarion before she could stop herself. Astarion froze. He forgot that “Penny” didn’t actually like to be called that and that only Shadowheart could actually get away with it in her presence.

Shadow corrected her before Astarion could stumble over an apology.

“Penance.”

The effect was immediate. Penance looked back at her like a guilty puppy.

“I came here to show off my perfectly trained pet, and here you are glaring at our hosts.”

Shadow’s voice was stern and icy. Vistri and Astarion knew they’d be stepping into roles, but they were also facing the experience and familiarity that came with years of this kind of play between them.

Vistri squeezed Astarion’s hand, Are you okay?

He squeezed it back and nodded an, I’m all right, love. Thanks for checking.

They watched the other couple resolve their conflict. Penance bowed her head in shame and Shadowheart clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

“Misbehaving is rare for her. We do apologize.”

Astarion bowed his head, “No apologies needed, darling. It was my offense. May I offer your dear pet an apology?”

“If you must,” Shadowheart smirked.

He made eye contact and said, “I’m sorry I called you a name you don’t like. I’ll be more careful.”

“Thank you,” Shadowheart said for her as Pen bowed her head to express it, “Now, shall we admire her for a moment?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he smirked.

Anyone could spend hours singing Pen’s praises. She was tall and broad even for a Tiefling, the result of many years of hard discipline. Her silver-blue skin was scarred and her hands calloused, evidence of her love for hard work. Her pale pink hair was shaved down on the back and sides with the rest tied back in a neat ponytail. She was terrifying to behold, and half it was just from being so beautiful.

“I cannot fathom another person who compliments you better, Shadowheart.”

“I suppose she’ll do. My great beast,” she observed.

“A mountain that greets the sun!”

Shadowheart smirked and circled Penance like a displacer beast around a hunk of raw meat. She ran her fingers over the tiefling’s biceps.

“She is quite striking, isn’t she? Well endowed,” she purred.

All the while, Penance stood perfectly still, waiting for an order and silently enjoying the attention. She was rather terrible at appreciating herself, but Shadowheart was more than happy to make up for it.

“I always knew you were a size queen,” Astarion teased.

Vistri looked up at one of the servants as he stepped into the room. He wasn’t one of the spawn, just a big fan of vampires. He was just George.

“Hello, George!” she waved.

He waved back, “Hello! Dinner is ready, by the way. If you would all please take your seats.”

As George left, Astarion stopped them all from moving to the dining room right away.

“Let’s not forget about my little dragon,” he offered Vistri a hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Exciting!” she said, “I’ll go stand next to Penance so you can admire us both at the same time.”

Shadowheart smiled at her dearest friend and Vistri smiled back. She was much warmer with Vistri, knowing discipline wasn’t as suited to her tastes as her own pet.

“Well, now, Astarion. I think you’ve got some competition. Vistri’s even prettier than you are.”

“I’d take offense to that, but I completely agree.”

Penance looked over at Vistri and winked, offering just a little encouragement of her own.

As they all moved over to the dining room, Astarion watched Shadowheart pull Penance to the side to check in. He took his cue to do the same with Vistri before sitting down at the table.

They pulled off into the room’s entryway and spoke low.

“Are you doing all right, love?” Astarion asked as he moved hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.

“It’s a little weird, but kind of a good weird. You know?”

He chuckled, “That’s how I feel too. It’s a bit startling at times, but it’s more exciting than anything else. So, you’re doing okay?”

Vistri nodded happily, “Yes. I’m perfectly content. Are you okay?”

“I’m wonderful,” he admitted, a little shyly.

“Kiss me,” she suggested.

Astarion leaned into her, pressing her back into the wall as he pressed his lips against hers.

They found themselves at the table before Shadow and Pen.

“Everything okay?” Vistri asked when they finally joined them.

Shadowheart nodded her head, “We’re fine. Pen isn’t totally used to an audience, but it’s well in hand. Leave her to me.”

Vistri put her hand to her heart, “We’re adjusting too, darling. Don’t fret about it.”

Penance nodded.

“It’s kind of exciting though, right?” she went on, “I mean, it’s all so new, but I’m already having a wonderful time. Plus, I get to share it with you and Shadow.”

Penance nodded again.

“Though, it is a little strange too—I suppose that’s the case with anything new though… What do you think?”

Penance sighed patiently, “Vistri, I’m trying to focus.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Penance took her duty so seriously that it was hard for Vistri to feel like she wasn’t slacking in some way. Maybe she wasn’t doing this right, not paying Astarion enough attention or giving him enough deference. Vistri looked to him for reassurance and he beamed back at her. So she looked over at Shadow, but she had no criticisms to offer. Besides, she’d reminded her over and over again that pets are individuals and dynamics are unique. Pen can be as staunch as she wanted to be, and Vistri could just be Vistri.

“No need to apologize,” Shadowheart smiled. She turned to her beloved pet, “Shall we eat?”

Their first course was a salad made with crops from their garden on the Surface. As the servants brought it out, Shadowheart explained how important it was to Penance for them to have a taste of the sun.

Astarion was genuinely touched, “Thank you. I truly appreciate that.”

Food didn’t sate his hunger, but he could still taste and admire it. More importantly, Vistri would enjoy it. He looked over at her happy expression from tasting one of the tomatoes. Even though Vistri grew up in the Underdark, Astarion always felt guilty for depriving her of the Surface and its food. She loved Surface crops, and the ones traded to the Underdark were never as fresh, or grown in the wrong soil down here. Astarion couldn’t put into words how grateful he was they’d brought her some picked just earlier that day.

So instead, he gave Penance and Shadow a toothy grin and said, “I remember this dressing. You made it all the time back at camp.”

Vistri agreed, mumbling and chewing, “Mmmpphh.”

“Don’t try to talk with your mouth full,” he chided playfully, “It’s rude and we have guests.”

Vistri glared back at him but there was a glint in her eye.

“Careful, Asty,” Shadowheart warned, “If you don’t tame your pets, they get wild.”

He turned to Vistri with a devilish grin, “All the ways I can think to tame you, beloved. My mind is rushing with the possibilities.”

She answered with a hellish look that complimented his, “In honor of our wonderful chef, how about a little penance?”

Astarion raised his eyebrow, “Oh?”

Shadowheart crossed her arms in amusement, waiting to see where her friends were going to take this. She looked over at Penance and could see, by the slightest twitch of her eyebrow, that she was critiquing her food and making mental notes adjusting the recipe for her dressing as she chewed.

“You did perfectly,” she said to Pen from the corner of her mouth.

Penance wiped her mouth with her napkin and smiled at Shadowheart. Then her eyes grew wide as her moment of pleased contentment was interrupted by Vistri’s next words.

“How do we all feel about blood at the dinner table?”

At least this time they were asking.

“Not while we’re eating!” Shadowheart protested, “Excuse yourselves for a moment and go do that in another room like civilized people.”

“It’s not that taboo here,” Astarion said, “We live in a city full of vampire spawn for gods sakes.”

“We live with animals that have more restraint,” Shadowheart sighed.

He stood up dramatically and giggled as he held his hand out to Vistri, “Come, pet. This is lovely but I need some real sustenance and you need to be punished. If you’ll excuse us for a moment or two.”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes happily at the sight of them skipping out of the room. Penance finally let herself chuckle at her moonbeam’s little zinger.

“Laugh it up, devil. I’m saving your punishment for later,” Shadowheart mused.

On the other side of the wall, Astarion pushed Vistri’s back into it with an eager kiss.

“You’re supposed to punish me,” she laughed, still pressed into his lips.

“I know,” he purred, “But I do so like misbehaving with you.”

He tangled his tongue with hers and Vistri tasted their wine and Pen’s salad. She felt his hands roam over her breasts, his lips move to her neck.

“I can’t wait to fuck you,” he growled as he licked her throat.

She sighed, “Bite me.”

Grinding his hips against hers, he sunk his teeth into her neck. Just a shallow cut he’d gladly lick up until it closed. Vistri wriggled between him and the wall, trying not to cry out.

The next course was already on the table by the time they got back. Roast duck with carrots and a colorful arrangement of potatoes. It smelled divine.

Shadowheart spoke once they sat down, “Got a little bit of red on your collar there, Vistri.”

Astarion stood back up at once, “Shit!”

Vistri leaned into him as he tried to rub the stain off with his fingers, but that only spread it around.

“Fuck it!” he said, bending over to put his mouth on her collar and suck off the blood. It was just easier that way! And even if dragon scale didn’t stain, he didn’t want to tempt it.

It was quite a sight, Astarion sucking on the collar around Vistri’s neck. Shadowheart laughed, “Gods, you’re like this even when you’re not trying to be.”

“Like what?” Vistri asked, head tilted with Astarion’s mouth still hanging on her neck.

Thankfully, the collar didn’t stain.

As dinner resumed, Astarion took note of how Shadowheart interacted with her pet. It almost seemed like she was ignoring her at first, since Penance wasn’t really part of the conversation, but every once in a while she would look over at her or touch her idly.

“Penance. Astarion’s cup is empty.”

Without wasting a moment, Penance wiped her mouth with her napkin and rose from her seat. She took the bottle of wine from the servant nearby, as if he was the one behaving strangely, and refilled Astarion’s cup.

With her task complete, she paused, looking to Shadowheart for guidance.

“Vistri, would you like more wine?” Shadowheart asked.

“Please!”

Penance filled her glass and then waited, once more, for further instructions. Shadowheart looked at her, holding her attention in the palm of her hand, knowing she could hold it there forever. After a long moment of this aching, glorious tension, Shadow nodded.

“You may sit.”

Once seated, Penance was rewarded with a hand on her cheek and a soft, “Good.”

Astarion watched them with rapt attention. Seeing Shadow and Penance act the way they did took away that wrong feeling. Around them, he felt validated and free to play. These people understood power and how its exchange was more than just cruel or petty; it could be so much more. He could, for lack of a better description, be a kinder Cazador to Vistri than he ever got. He could do similar things that were done to him, but from a position of power, and with the person he trusted and adored the most wanting him to do it.

He was truly confident and playful after dinner. He and Shadowheart were also tipsy enough to start showing off.

“Penance, show them how easily you can pick me up,” Shadowheart demanded.

She swept her into her arms like Shadow was a leaf. Blushing, she stared at Pen like she was dessert.

Astarion looked over at Vistri.

“I could try?” she shrugged.

“You don’t have to try. You sweep me off my feet every day without having to lift a finger.”

Shadowheart cleared her throat and leaned into Penance’s chest. “Put me down before I get you in trouble,” she said huskily.

Penance placed her gently on the ground, but Shadow’s cheeks were a little darker. Her breath a little tighter.

Astarion twirled Vistri into the middle of everyone’s view, “She might not be able to pick me up, but her honeyed tongue could talk a devil back to the Hells. And she has! Quite a few times, actually.”

Shadow walked up and pat Vistri on the head, “I was there for that, and you were so impressive.”

Penance let out an impatient noise. Shadowheart snapped her eyes to her.

“I see,” Shadow said tightly, “You want to be punished. The way you’re carrying on while I dote on my best friend is most unbecoming.”

Penance let out a long, tense sigh.

Astarion pouted, “Darling, I’m hurt! I thought I was your best friend.”

“You’re a different best friend!” she laughed, her firm manner melting away immediately.

“My, my, Shadow,” Vistri grinned, “Everyone’s fighting over you tonight.”

Astarion came up from behind and picked Vistri up. They fell back on the couch, laughing.

“Come lay down in my lap, you sweet thing,” he whispered into her ear.

He slowly stroked her face and hair as Penance served them brandy. She didn’t imbibe herself, but she did take some water over to Shadow’s side and knelt by her knees. Shadowheart leaned down and whispered something to her that made her swallow thickly.

Astarion, eyeing the box from Karlach and Wyll, was struck with an idea.

“Vistri, darling?” he called.

“Yes, love?”

“Would you be a dear and light us some cigars?”

The glint in her eyes reflected his.

“Gladly.”

Vistri got up to grab a cigar from the box, and the back of her neck tingled in the most delightful way. It wasn’t Astarion’s orders per say, so much as it was seeing him confident and unafraid. Figuring she’d bring it to him in the manner that would most please him, Vistri sat on his lap and told him to open his mouth.

"I think I'm the one supposed to be giving the orders, my darling," he corrected.

Vistri pulled a face and Astarion clicked his tongue, “Now don’t pout love. It’s Ladies first, and we don’t want to be rude. Besides, you’ll want to save the best for last.”

He gave her bum a squeeze as she leapt off his lap to put his cigar aside and present one to Shadowheart, who then placed it in Pen’s mouth. Vistri snapped her fingers and a little flame shot up from the tip of her thumb. She held it steady at the end of Pen’s cigar until she puffed it into steady life.

“Good girl,” Astarion purred, “Now come over to me.”

She grabbed the cigar she’d put to the side and paused before bending over to meet his smirking grin. He opened his mouth, and she placed it between his teeth. She fell into Astarion’s eyes, and kept staring into them as she snapped her fingers and bent to light his cigar.

He used the opportunity to capture her, sweeping Vistri into his lap.

Penance was already turning the room into a cloudy day.

Astarion took a generous puff before taking the cigar out of his mouth to kiss Vistri. She giggled and he growled.

“Share it with me, darling?” he asked her.

She nodded, and Astarion brought his cigar to her lips. Lingering on each consonant, striking them with emphatic warning, he told her, “Take it,” and pushed his thick cigar into her mouth. Grabbing the end of it between her teeth, she did as commanded and sucked. He held it there until puffs of smoke began to billow out of her mouth, making her eyes water.

Taking it so harshly without coughing once earned her another, "Good girl," whispered low by her ear.

Shadowheart didn’t particularly care for cigars, but the wine coursing through her veins had made her peckish, and since she couldn’t feast on Penance just yet, she settled for the smoke. She looked down at her pet and cleared her throat, batting her eyelashes. She patted the spot on the sofa next to her, and Penance hopped up with a grin.

Slowly, Shadowheart parted her lips and snaked her tongue just past the edge of her mouth. An invitation that Penance answered reverently with the end of her cigar. It was maddening to watch her inhale, but that madness was its own pleasure, and it was made even sweeter knowing that it was shared.

Shadowheart stared deep into Penance’s eyes and exhaled. It took every bit of the tiefling’s self-control not to lean in and devour her, but that would have been overstepping. So, she took the cigar back and sucked down a huge lungful of smoke before letting it drift slowly from her nose.

“I don’t know how you bear it, but then I remember you’re an infernal beast,” Shadowheart said evenly.

Penance’s eyes offered plenty of searing reply, “Your infernal beast.”

“You know Astarion,” Shadowheart mused, “Do you remember how I mentioned that wild pets need taming?” Astarion reluctantly pulled his gaze from Vistri.

“I do.”

Shadowheart pushed Penance gently off the couch and back onto the floor. Their eyes stayed trained on one another, and it was clear the time for company was coming to a swift end.

“I was speaking from experience. My pet may seem well-behaved now, but she’s got a devilish streak in her that must always be carefully minded. Shall I show you how I handle such a brute?” she asked.

Astarion leaned in close to whisper in Vistri’s ear, “Why do I feel like I’m in trouble too?”

Vistri giggled and kissed his cheek. “So scary,” she murmured back, “Reminds me of all the times we misplaced her eyeliner.”

Shadowheart snapped her fingers and Penance went entirely still, like a coiled spring.

“Pushups, I think,” Shadowheart said, pointing to the middle of the room, “Go on.”

Penance got to her feet and took a long pull on the cigar between her lips, never dropping her gaze. The length of the puff looked almost painful, but she didn’t so much as flinch. She took another, letting the smoke shoot out of her nose in long plumes. A devil indeed. Then she passed it to Shadowheart and made her way to the middle of the room.

“A beast needs a firm hand lest she start to forget herself.” Shadowheart said firmly.

Without skipping a beat, Penance dropped onto her hands and began slow, measured pushups. Her short-sleeved shirt gave an excellent view of her corded arms as they pumped. For a few moments, no one spoke. Everyone simply watched this display of powerful submission until the sound of Pen’s breathing became too much to bear.

Vistri twirled around in Astarion’s lap with the full intention of making a joke, to relieve a little of the thick tension in the room, but misjudged the force of her shoulders and her throat pressed into his mouth. He froze. Under usual circumstances, he would simply indulge in Vistri’s blood, with her permission, of course, but not in front of their guests.

He had to restrain himself in present company and that proved quite difficult with her so close and so sweet in his nose. Despite himself, he let out a soft, low moan.

Penance stopped moving, her attention similarly pulled to Shadowheart who had…also let out a rather telling noise.

The evening was promptly dissolved.

“Ahem, I think we should all retire before we lose what’s left of our reason.” Shadowheart announced.

Astarion took a moment to stand up and bid them goodnight. He turned to Vistri and commanded her to do the same.

“Say goodnight to our guests, pet.”

She blushed and bid them sweet dreams.

When Penance and Shadowheart left, they were alone.

He tackled her onto the couch, kissing her deeply and whining from his throat. Vistri met him with a fury that was hard to contain. They tasted like brandy and smoke.

“Take me to bed,” she begged him.

“Naughty, Naughty,” Astarion chided, full of heat, “We haven’t even settled our little bet.”

Their own cigar was smoked about halfway, but the ashtray with Pen’s was completely ash.

“Well, it's all gone but that took about ten minutes, so I say we both lose.”

v---v v---v v---v v---v v---v

They had a leash for Vistri’s collar they hadn't used yet. It wasn't near as grand; just a fine, black leather whose simplicity complimented the collar's grandiosity. After tonight’s dinner, Astarion felt ready. He put on the airs of a vampire lord to command her, “Come bind yourself to me, you sweet, delicious treat.”

Vistri gladly walked over to be taken. He fit her leash into the loop on her collar, and she was tethered.

He reached out for her face, caressing her cheek, “You just want to please me, don’t you?”

She nodded, “More than anything.”

“And what do you get out of it?”

“Your happiness.”

Astarion kissed her, then said, “That’s about me again.”

“I know.”

She was so sweet he had to kiss her one more time, “Then if you really want it all to be about me, you’ll serve.”

Vistri ran her hands along his chest, “I want to sate every desire. Until you feel perfect.”

“Believe me, my dear. You will.”

He fingered the leash between them, then tugged it to bring her closer, “You like this?”

She nodded with enthusiasm, “Oh, I like this.”

Astarion smirked, “Then get on your knees.”

His tone was firm, but still warm. Vistri kneeled and he towered over her, looking down and running his hands all through her hair. He positioned her head between his legs at the level of his hips. Vistri could see the hard imprint of him through his trousers and needed to put it in her mouth.

He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, then grabbed her chin to make her meet his gaze. Tightening his grip on the leash shortened the give between them, and he wrapped the leather around his fist a few times, “Now you can’t get away. Any regrets?”

Vistri crawled on her knees until she was pressed into him. Her face rested on his thigh and nuzzled it, “No regrets but that you are not yet buried deeply into my ache.”

Astarion grabbed a fistful of hair at the top of her head and pulled. She gasped pleasantly.

“Now don’t be so vulgar, darling. At least not yet.”

He let go of her hair to play with her lips again. She kissed his fingertips as they danced across her. He only abandoned them to undo the lacings on his trousers, and Vistri’s breath caught on her throat anticipating the sight of him.

He was stunning. His head pushing boldly passed his foreskin was art. His thickness was both threat and promise. Vistri turned her gaze back to his face and saw his fangs bared in his grin. So many parts of himself that he sank into her. She wanted them all, wanted all of him; to be devoured and taken over, owned.

“I long for it, Astarion,” she moaned, nestling her cheek into his palm.

He grabbed hold of himself and pressed his tip against her mouth, just like he had with the cigar. He watched her open up to take it, and held it just there between her lips.

His eyes rolled back for a second as her tongue flickered along it. He sighed, “Now that’s not fair.”

Vistri stopped.

“I didn’t say stop.”

She did it again.

“That’s better, pet,” he ran his hands through her hair.

Astarion took himself in hand again to push further into her lips. Just passed her teeth, just like he did earlier in the evening.

“You have to open your mouth so wide to take me, my dear.”

The sides of his lip twitched as she played with his head, now completely nestled on her tongue.

“Oooh,” he moaned, “You treat me so well.”

Vistri felt him take a slightly wider stance and tug her leash even tighter, bringing him even deeper into her mouth.

He grabbed hold of her chin again. He loved to cradle Vistri’s face in his palms with his cock in her mouth. He loved seeing himself disappear into her lips and come out coated in her sweet taste.

“Would you like the whole thing?”

She moaned her desperate consent, and he thrust himself into her throat. Steadily, his hips rocked against her lips. Slow, rolling thrusts in and out; languid.

Astarion watched, looking down at her, holding her leash. He felt… good. Like he had all the power in the world. Like she was his servile spawn and him a true lord.

And that didn’t feel bad.

He didn’t feel bad.

Astarion stared, drinking in her show until the drool started to drip from the corners of her mouth. Then he pulled himself out very slowly, just free of her lips, keeping himself right in front of her.

“Swallow,” he commanded.

Vistri caught her breath and swallowed the combination of his and her salivations.

Astarion patted her on the head as a reward, “That’s a good pet.”

There was still wetness dripping down her face, at the corners of her mouth and a little on her neck. He wiped her off with his fingers, and licked them, tasting her on his hands.

“Sod it! I can’t take any more of this,” he said, scooping her up to throw her onto their bed, full of rakish charm.

Vistri landed on her back. The bed bounced lightly with impact as Astarion crawled over on his knees to straddle her. He tugged the leash tight between them and pulled until she sat up to meet his lips. Astarion let out the hungriest groan and pushed her back down after adding more give to her tether.

Vistri was putty. Begging, writhing putty.

He stroked the spot on her neck that he drank from earlier. With the dragon blood running through her veins, it had already healed.

“We’ll just have to mark you again right after this. You did promise to sate my every desire, did you not?”

“I want the same thing,” she said thickly.

Astarion smirked. He was going to have to satisfy her to set her mind right. She was literally lost in her want.

The sight of her so helpless to him made him feel like he really belonged somewhere.

He pried apart her knees and leaned closer, his hands crawling up her leash. As he put himself inside her, after they both shouted out with closed eyes and opened them again to behold each other, he made another offer.

“Would you like me to wrap this around your throat as I fuck you?”

“Please,” she begged.

Astarion unhooked her leash and wrapped it around her neck like a scarf. Keeping her safe would require just enough concentration that he wouldn’t have to worry about losing himself. It was a lingering threat that allowed Vistri to let go completely and Astarion to stay grounded.

The collar was firm, and the leash was tight without being restrictive. Both pressures on her neck only made Vistri more eager for his teeth.

With one hand on her leash, and the other caressing her waist, he pumped into her. It was overwhelming. Trust was made more explicit and exposed their raw cores. The leash and collar wrapped around her were his arms cradling her heart as she exploded like a star. Vistri made Astarion feel so safe, he could just toy with her and take; to be a tyrant without being horrible.

He could fracture her, and she could fracture him, and at the end of it, know themselves and each other better.

Astarion screamed, “Thank you,” over and over as he came. Vistri was so spent by the time that happened, her voice was too rough to do more than whimper with tears in her eyes.

They panted and smiled at each other so wide they ended up laughing. He unclasped her collar before she left to refresh herself. When she jumped back into bed and into his embrace, she offered him her neck.

“You greedy thing,” he spoke against her skin before sinking into it.

v---v v---v v---v v---v v---v

Shadowheart checked in with Astarion the next morning.

“So,” she took a careful sip of her hot tea, “How is everything now that you’ve…”

“Fully stepped into my role?”

She nodded her head.

His voice was light, “We got out the leash last night!”

“How very exciting!” she smirked.

Astarion took a sip and adopted a serious face as he put down his cup.

“Uh oh.”

“Why is everyone always so quick to say that to me?”

“Because you’re you,” she smiled, “Now what are you on about?”

“I really… I really appreciate you and Pen for—”

She shook her head and waved her hand like it was no big deal.

“But it is a big deal. To me. So, I thank you,” he bowed his head, “You really made me feel better about myself, more myself. Does that make any sense?”

Shadowheart reached forward to give his knee an affectionate tap, “It makes sense, Astarion. And I’m happy for you. Truly.”

Penance and Vistri came over in an unusual chorus of laughter. Pen’s deep, rolling cackles were broken up by Vistri’s loud, pitchy squeals.

“What’s so funny, love?” Shadowheart asked.

Vistri squeezed her shoulder in greeting and winked, “Pet stuff, darling.”

“Oh, how ominous!” Astarion teased, “Dear Shadowheart, I do believe they’ve been talking about us behind our backs."

"Unlike you, mosquito,” Penance said, “The things I say behind people's backs are exactly as I would say to their faces."

Before Astarion could protest, Vistri hopped over and kissed the top of his head.

“I quite cherish the things you do behind my back,” she smirked.

Penance gave a little snort and looked over to Shadowheart with a wink, who just stared back.

“Don’t fish for compliments so early in the day,” she sighed. The smirk on her lips was more than enough regardless.

That evening, Penance and Vistri wore their collars again. Astarion and Shadowheart were seated on one of the couches as if it were a shared throne. Penance and Vistri held out their collars to their respective partners, and Astarion and Shadowheart smiled at each other as they secured them around their necks.

Dinner was just the same as last night but with everyone a little more settled. Everything more okay because they’d done it once before.

“A toast,” Astarion offered, the wine in his glass a bit thicker than the others, “To friendship, and above all…” his eyes sort of welled up, and he had to pause before continuing, “To family.”

The women raised their glasses, smiling warmly at Astarion as they met his toast.

“To family,” Vistri and Shadowheart said, and Penance nodded.

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

#vistarion #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober list #prompt fill #collaboration #vistri #astarion #balders gate 3 #full fic #astarion x tav #to belong fic #BrishFics #fluff #smut #lemon #bg3 spoilers

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