#ahem. composing myself

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price as Nicholas Van Ryn

Dragonwyck (1946) // dir. Joseph L. Mankiewicz

[maehemthemisfit]

"I am here. Someone told me you need me, brat. So say - what is it that you need from me exactly?"

Scaramouches gaze was serious while he looked straight at you, waiting for a response.

~ 💜

*loud screeching noises*

HUGGING YOU HUGGING YOU HUGGIN YOU KIEDNF4J4E !!!

[wysteria-bloom]

↪"you're lucky I...adore you."

Bg3 companions if they've been affected by succubus magic

Bg3 x bard!reader

Warnings : nothing that I can think of.

Genre : fluff, just pure fluff

A/n : still haven't finished this damn game and it's nearly been a year. You don't want to know how many hours I've spent on it I'm genuinely so disappointed in myself 🥲

▢ lae'zel

Gone was her usual stern demeanour, this woman was huffing and puffing to try and hold herself back. Her mouth pulled into a grimace as the words tumbled out of her mouth against her will.

"Tav.... your battle prowess is... most pleasing to witness..." Her eyes were hazy as she leaned down slightly to your level, brows pulled tightly together despite the contrasting words coming from her mouth," Were you a githyanki, I might even consider... taking you as a mate."

You just sort of blink at her, string pulled taught against your finger as you were trying to fix your violin. A slow smile made its way to your lips," ... you're certainly direct." You cooed out, brows raised suggestively as you look her up and down," I'm flattered, really, but perhaps you should save the mating proposals for when you're not under the influence of succubus magic, hm?"

The githyanki huffs, embarrassed but still utterly bewitched, her nostrils flare," usually... a gith would take offense at such a vehement rejection..." Her forehead presses against yours as she frowns deeply," You're lucky I... adore you." She gritted out with much difficulty.

"It was a spell. Nothing more. Forget it happened unless you want to see your innards splattered across the dirt you stand on."

You smirk, pressing your forehead back in response," Lucky, indeed~"

-

"My pretty lips are sealed, milady."

▢ shadowheart

She leans casually against a nearby tree, watching you with that adoring green gaze of hers that she tried to hide underneath her awkwardly mysterious aura.

She listens to the soft tunes you play with your lovely fingers, humming slightly and almost drunkenly," You know.... your music isn't the only thing enchanting about you."

These strangely uncharacteristic words made you pause in your playing, raising a brow up at her in surprise.

She, herself, didn't know what she was saying but she just couldn't stop herself as her lips twitched into a smirk," perhaps we should compose a duet of our own?"

The blatant flirting amused you to no end and a hand shot to your mouth to suppress a laugh," a duet?" You repeated," As memorable of a performance that would be, I think it best for you to sleep off whatever magical nonsense that succubus casted on you."

Shadowheart gave you an incredulous look and tried to play it off, shrugging with a pout," Oh no, this is... all me." She tried, but the words trembled," totally natural."

"... Let's never talk about this again."

"What a ball of charisma you are."

-

"I've already got a tune decided for our duet. No backing out now, little cleric~"

▢ gale

The wizard approaches his dearest bard with his usual theatric flair, but the lines falling from his smart mouth were far more dramatic than usual as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear," your beauty... it's like the stars themselves - unreachable, radiant, and yet somehow, you make even the Weave seem mundane in comparison."

Your hand removes itself from your instrument to pinch the bridge of your nose. Despite your exasperation, you couldn't hide your amusement," Gale... that succubus has broken you. You don't need to keep... weaving poetry to me."

"Ah, but for you, my dear, no spell is required for me to express my-"

You cover his mouth with your hand and you swear you see hearts in his eyes," mhmm, let's talk about something else, okay?"

"Ahem... I maintain that my delivery was impeccable, spell or no."

-

"Didn't make me swoon, however. Maybe you should give it another try."

▢ karlach

You pause in analysing what spells you had when a shadow fell upon you, making you look up slowly to see Karlach's wry grin shining down upon you like the rays of Lathander himself.

Her infernal engine was humming a lot louder than usual, her enthusiasm palpable," look at you, soldier! All studious n' shit." She cooed as she crouched down, but she still towered over you. Her head canted to the side, hair falling wildly along with her," You're hotter than the hellfire burnin' in my chest... and that's saying something."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head with a flush rising to your cheeks. Whether it was because of Karlach's heat or her words? You couldn't tell. You didn't care either.

"That might be the most intense compliment I've ever received... did the spell possessing you come up with a list of pickup lines to read off of? Or is this all just you?"

Karlach's eyes glinted with affection and amusement as she shrugged," all me, babe." She lied before catching herself, looking up at the sky to think,"... or.... uh, the spell." She tapped her chin in thought, brows furrowed," maybe both?"

"Don't hurt yourself, love."

"Tav, you have to admit, the hellfire thing was pretty fuckin' good!"

-

"True... I'd like to hear you say it without slurring your words, this time."

▢ wyll

His confident strides never faltered despite the magic clearly affecting him, his usual charming demeanour was cracked up to tenfold as he leaned forwards to you, a soft little smile spread to his lips.

"You know... your voice could tame a dragon, and your smile could slay a Devil." He took your hand into his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand," let me be your Knight, forever at your side."

You giggle, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder and you had to ignore the flip of your heart when he instantly leaned into your touch," Wyll, that's sweet, but I think you're laying it on a little thick here, sweetheart." The pet name made his head buzz," I'm impressed, honestly... did the spell teach you how to swoon like a bard?"

His hand moved to your one resting on his shoulder and squeezed with purpose, brows furrowed with a lovesick grin curled to his lips," no spells required, my love."

You snort," sure, and my lute plays itself."

"I... apologise for whatever nonsense spewed from my mouth. I was merely playing the part, you understand-"

-

"Hmm... nonsense, was it? And I was so looking forwards to you being my Knight. A shame, really."

▢ astarion

A finger twirled your hair as you strummed your instrument absentmindedly, trying to come up with a catchy bar tune.

Astarion was staring hazily, his usual smirk had actually fallen as his crimson eyes glinted,"... did you know your blood smells sweeter than the finest wine?"

You give him a deadpan look, pausing in your strumming to look up at him which immediately prompted for his hand to move to your chin," Astarion... did the spell make you forget how incredibly creepy that sounds?" You grimace.

He blanched at you, a hand pressing to his heart rather dramatically but his eyes were still infatuated with your every crevice and cranny," creepy?? No, no it's a compliment, I'll have you know!" Then he frowned as he thought of his words and quickly added on a," in a vampiric sort of way..."

You snort and grabbed his wrist, rubbing your thumb up and down it gently," let's revisit this topic when you're not spellbound... or thinking about my blood."

"But it's such lovely blood, darling!" He whined only to be interrupted.

"Nope. We're done here."

"Well, I regret absolutely nothing."

-

"That's because the things you said weren't anything out of the ordinary you freak."

▢ halsin

The uncharacteristic sparkle in his eye is what made you pause as he approached with his usual gentle facial expression. He opened his mouth and you were enraptured with every word-

"I was missing you... and found a lily of the valley," he held out the flower cutely, the size of it compared to him made your heart clench. What a pure man he was," they truly remind me of you... delicate, radiant and captivating."

You reached out and gently took the flower from him, cradlingnit as your cheeks flush warmly," You adorable man." You then moved your hand and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, but before you could pull your hand away, he pressed it to his cheek," Halsin... this is lovely but I'd prefer if you did this whilst not being under the influence of a spell. It's turned you into a poet."

He hums, half-listening to you as he closed his eyes, trying to memorise the temperature and feeling of your hand," poet? Not quite... just a humble druid who's helplessly ensared by your otherworldly beauty."

You sigh and smile, shaking your head as you pinch his cheek, grin widening at the displeased groan that he emitted," helplessly ensared, hmm? Well, let's just hope this spell wears off before you start building me a shrine."

He seemed to lift his head at attention when you said that, moving your hand to his chest and pressing it against his beating heart. The serious look in his eyes sent a flutter through your entire body, his voice a low rumble as he leaned close to your face," would you prefer one of oak or stone?"

You grimace but your face was certainly burning," Oh no, it's definitely time for you to snap out of it."

-

"Tav... forgive me if my words earlier were... overzealous. It was the spell, of course, though they were not entirely untrue."

"Not entirely untrue, huh? I'll keep that in mind the next time you're waxing poetic about flowers and shrines."

▢ minthara

Minthara, usually composed and calculating, strides up to you with an intensity that borders on unsettling. However, her voice takes on an unusual softness that left you weak in the knees.

"I believe now is the chance for me to express this... you are a weapon forged by the gods themselves - sharp, striking and impossible to resist." Her deft fingers ran up and down your arms softly, soothingly, hypnotically," Were I to claim you..." Her eyelashes lowered," none would dare challenge us."

You could only blink with that shit eating grin you always took on when you irritate her," That's flattering, Minthara. But you should save this for when you're not enchanted."

Her voice lowered," I do not make declarations lightly, Tav. You belong at my side. Drenched in the blood of our enemies."

"Whoo... at your side, huh?" You liked the images she created," what, no throne or crown to sweeten the deal?"

God, the smirk that twitched to her lips was utterly mind boggling. You wished you could sew her mouth to permanently stay that way," Oh... there would be both. Gold and blood, in your honour."

You coughed out a reluctant," I'll pass for now, thanks."

-

"Whatever foolishness I said under the spell - forget it. I would not waste words on such sentimentality."

"Of course not, Minthara. The throne and crown offer was purely strategic, I'm sure."

[aventurineswife]

OH sure!! If you'd like <3 but no pressure ! 💕 I just think the chat you made was very adorable but also funny KWDHJSJW ❤️ but if you write it, then make sure to tag me 👁️💕

Lean Down, Lift Up

Summary: In the quiet observation car of the Astral Express, you share an intimate moment with Sunday, encouraging him to set aside his reflective worries. As his ethereal presence softens in your touch, a simple kiss bridges the gap between his celestial grace and his humanity, reminding him of the solace found in love.

Tags: @vivisboutique, @iruiji, @timascorner, @flavishly, Sunday x Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff, Tender Moments, Height Difference, Soft Sunday, Vulnerability, Introspection.

A/N: help why did Fallen Angel by Chris Grey started playing...🧍‍♀️ (Lmao listening to fantastic and got reminded of that one CaitVi(from Arcane) scene ahem... 🫣) enjoy btw! This man needs to get out of my head, he's living rent free here... 🤺

The Astral Express hummed gently beneath your feet, its steady rhythm lulling the silence between you and Sunday. The observation car was empty at this hour, the vast expanse of stars beyond the glass stretching into infinity. You glanced up at him, his ethereal presence lit by the soft glow of the cosmos. His halo shimmered faintly, golden light catching in his hair as he gazed at the stars, lost in thought.

Sunday’s tall frame cast a serene shadow, his wings folded neatly behind him. You smiled softly, appreciating the way his composed demeanor betrayed his subtle vulnerability. His eyes, so often reflective and distant, turned to meet yours. The navy pupils seemed to flicker like a calm sea under starlight.

“Is something on your mind?” he asked, his voice gentle, airy, and tinged with genuine curiosity.

You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “Not exactly. I just… thought you looked too serious.”

Sunday’s lips curved into a faint smile, though there was a hint of weariness in his expression. “It’s hard not to be, with so much to think about.”

“Well,” you said, tugging lightly on his gloved hand, “maybe you need a break from all that thinking.”

He arched an elegant brow but allowed you to pull him down slightly toward your level. “A break, you say? And how do you propose I take one?”

“Like this,” you whispered, leaning up on your toes. You placed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips, the faint scent of sandalwood and starlight enveloping you as his wings twitched slightly in surprise. His halo flickered, golden light brightening briefly before stabilizing.

For a moment, Sunday froze, as if caught off guard. Then his hand rested gently on the back of your head, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. When you pulled away, his eyes softened, and a flush of warmth crept across his usually composed face.

“You could’ve just asked,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual, tinged with a rare, boyish shyness.

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” you teased, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Besides, you’re so tall, I had to make you lean down first.”

Sunday chuckled—a low, melodic sound that you rarely heard. “You always manage to surprise me,” he admitted, his hand lingering on yours as he spoke. “Even after all this time.”

You felt your heart swell at the rare vulnerability he allowed himself to show. Sunday often seemed untouchable, an ethereal being burdened by the weight of his ideals. But in these quiet moments, he was just a man—one who loved and was loved in return.

“I’ll keep surprising you then,” you said softly, pressing your forehead to his. “As long as you promise to take more breaks like this.”

His wings fluttered faintly, a telltale sign of his amusement and affection. “I suppose I don’t have much choice, do I?”

“Nope,” you replied, grinning up at him. “Not when you’re stuck with me.”

Sunday’s smile widened slightly, a flicker of peace crossing his features. “Then I’ll consider myself lucky,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet reverence that made your chest tighten.

The stars continued to stretch endlessly before you, but in that moment, the universe felt small—a little brighter, a little warmer, with Sunday by your side.

[debonairprincesposts]

Lost focus (He’s too pretty)

Summary: Reader has an exam to study for and only has a few hours to cram everything in their brain. Distractions are a thing so reader decides that enlisting Jason’s help might work. It doesn’t

Words: 1.1k

Wrote this one myself. ∠(ᐛ 」∠)

Can you tell how much I like him?

This was way more challenging than you thought it would be. You had a couple of chapters left with barely enough time to complete them. If! And only if, you got your shit together, rubbed them two brain cells, and forced yourself to push through, you might succeed. You could do it if you really put your mind to it, but

You just can’t focus.

Your phone was right side up right next you, and you can’t help but glance at it every time the screen lit up.

Gasp!

You just got an amazing idea!

It might just be genius.

Maybe Jason can help.

Jason, your hubby, your guardian Angel, your strong teddy bear, your sweetheart, the love of your life, the-

Okay-

You’re getting off track. Where were you?

Oh yes! Maybe Jason can help you keep your focus.

You get off your desk, stretch a bit cuz you been on that chair since like-… Wait…., what time even is it.

You glimpsed at your clock above your door, and-

Gasp!

Holy crap!

You’ve been get distracted for over an hour!

Realizing the amount of time you just wasted daydreaming, it cemented the fact that you absolutely must get Jason to keep track of you and act as your pretty, beautiful, breathtaking, delightful, sexy-

Whoa- best to keep it family friendly.

You just need him! Period!

And so, you venture out of your room and into the harsh, chaotic environment that resides outside your door that you haven’t seen in years -ahem- a few hours.

Jason was just chillin’ on the couch in the living room reading a book that he’d been wanting to catch up on since forever, it’s a rare day off.

You arrive at the entrance of the living room and pause, your gaze wandering in search of him.

Huzzah!

Lover has been spotted!

Now to plot a dramatic entrance and maybe hope to startle him.

(You know he heard you from the moment you left your room, but you like to delude yourself into thinking that you might be able to sneak up on him)

You stomp your way into the living room and stand just a few feet away from the entrance-

He noticed you making your way in and opened his beautiful mouth with pretty soft, glossy lips that you could just bite-

Whoa- family friendly remember?

-to ask if you needed anything.

You then announce,

“Beloved! I have encountered a dilemma and require your assistance!”

Jason looks at bit surprised at your use of fancy talk then chuckles, “Sure thing, chipmunk. What do you need?”

You now lose your nerve and just revert back to normal talk, totally not because you lack the proper vocabulary to talk like a person out of a fantasy novel, definitely not.

It’s not!

Anyway!

Where were you? Ah, right. You were about to converse with this divine being you call your boyfriend, who has graced your life with his presence and brought nothing but good fortune and love, and ask for his help.

He looks at you expectantly, closing his book after bookmarking it, and waits for you to answer.

His eyes are pretty as he looks at you. Like a swirl of green in a bottomless ocean that would just absolutely drown you, from love or something else you don’t know, you don’t mind either. If he points his gun at you and shoots, you might just thank him for it.

Damn.

You’re a simp.

He’s still waiting for you to speak.

Okay! Not the time to have realizations about yourself! Concentrate!

You clear your throat, “I just need you keep track of me while I study so I don’t get distracted.” You take a deep breath to compose yourself and not drift back to thinking about how his thighs could-

WOAH!! ABORT! ABORT!

He gives you a nod to encourage you to finish what you wanted to say. Honestly, bless his heart. His patience is eternal. Especially if he has to deal with you. A million topics at a time with no momentary focus whatsoever.

You take another deep breath, “I’m getting really distracted and really need you to keep me focused and just watch me to make sure I get things done. Can you help me?” You look down as you fiddle with the strings of your hoodie. Why is it so embarrassing to ask for his help. Maybe cuz it feels like a godly creation such as himself shouldn’t be doing dumb things just to appease a feeble mortal like you. How you bagged someone like him is beyond you.

“Sure, chipmunk. I don’t mind.” He smiled. Oh, my god. It’s too bright. You stare. You think you’re getting blinded by how brightly he shines.

What’s that noise?

Oh, he’s snapping his fingers in front of your face. He looks concerned. Oh no. You made Angel upset. Damnit! Think fast!

“Sweetheart?” He asks, “You with me?” He’s slightly frowning in worry. The light from the living room window highlights his hair and makes his high cheekbones more pronounced. His hair looks really shiny and fluffy too. You just wanna touch it.

So you do.

You reach out a hand towards his head as he looks at you with concern mixed in with confusion. You run your fingers through his hair, you then start petting it.

Mmm. Fluffy.

Realization makes its way across his face. He snorts, then lets out a short laugh. If that’s the last sound you hear before you die, then you can die happy. “Is that why you wanted me to help?” He smirks, “Can’t keep track of your attention?” He’s not pulling away, so you guess he’s enjoying your little pets.

“Uhh,” how dignified, “Yeah, n-no. I can’t.”

He smiles again at your stutter, you’re so cute. His smile seems brighter than your future, your heart might just give out at this point, “Alright. Let’s get you back to studying, yeah?”

He gives a kiss on the forehead before he turns you around, gently grabs you by your shoulders, and starts walking you back to your room.

As you enter, he nudges you towards your desk while he takes a seat on your bed.

He claps twice, “Chop chop, Chipmunk! Time to focus.” He then brings out a different book outta nowhere. Where was he hiding that? “I’ll be right here the whole time. Time to get to it, sweets.”

You nod in determination while give him a salute. He chuckles at your response as he lays back on your pillows while you turn back to your desk to try and get things done.

…..

You can hear him slowly breathing on your bed, the rustling noises that his clothes make when he moves to adjust himself, the flip of the paper from the book he’s reading. You took a glimpse at him from your peripherals. He looks ethereal in his fitted shirt and baggy sweatpants.

Yeah, you’re definitely failing your exam.

I think I have adhd…..

[pupyuj]

milan yujin looks so hot sexy and everything it drives my mind into an overide like SHE LOOKS SO MOMM- [GUNSHOTS] anyway ahem need to comPOSE myself before i actually go crazy she looks like shes gna step on me but....i mean just a thought but what if she wanted us to step on h- [ANOTHER GUNSHOT]

🪿🪿

varsity yuj, either way yuj, milan yuj, and love dive yuj are MY four horsemen of the apocalypse okay I DO NOT PLAY ABOUT THEM and milan yujin.......... i need her in so many ways....... anyways here's some food—

i know milan yuj is very mommy core yes BUT WALK WITH ME... her going to those events looking expensive and sexy but then coming home to you and immediately turns back into your cute, starry-eyed, lovesick puppy girlfriend?? in truth, these events only exhaust her... so she quickly melts into your arms when you caress her hair and tell her that did a good job... that's all she needs to hear to completely submit to you 🤭💞

fr moves like a puppy tho bcs as soon as you pamper her, yujin would be all over you! following you around, being so clingy, kissing you everywhere, never being able to take her hands off of you... see, on days like this, yujin would try to annoy you to get fucked roughly and blow off some steam but she wanted to be babied that day 🥺 cuddling to your side while you're both sat on the couch, hugging your arm against her chest and tugging you ever now and again bcs you were in a phone call with a friend and she hated it sm 💔 she missed you! you two were supposed to have quality time together!

"babe," yujinnie would whine :(( looking up at your with her glossy eyes and small pout, she's the cutest! "please?" and she suddenly has your only free hand on her boob?? but you were never one to be swayed easily so you’d ignore her… but then she’s sitting on your lap, hugging you and grinding on your thigh like a needy pup 🥺🥺 “please… i missed you so much.” she’d say in your ear and really that was all you’ll need to end the call and indulge in whatever yujinnie wanted 🥰

yujin loves to put on this cool and charming leader act to show everybody that she’s capable of being responsible and she is! but you like it better when she lets loose ☺️ ‘lets loose’ as in having her leader persona completely crumble as she rides your fingers desperately for hours on end 🤭 and ykw yujin’s annoying ass definitely calls you ‘mommy’ for shits and giggles on a normal, non-horny day but if she’s feeling needy enough you’ll pull a couple of those out of her while fucking her… and it sounds way too good in your ears that you wouldn’t want to stop until she’s a mess 😵‍💫

“mmhn..! m-mommy, more please… i love you, mommy…” she knows all the right things to say to rile you up 🤭🤭 yujin loves staring at you while you fuck her… loves that dark look in your eyes that only makes her more aroused that she should… and she’d take whatever you give her for however long you want her to! 🥺 not at all resisting or asking to stop bcs a thing she loves more than looking hot and in charge is being taken care of by her lovely gf 🤤

[soullessseraphim]

I'm gonna be real vulnerable with you rn...

(drops a batch of ocs that are cringe and over a year old)

its not arcana related, so like you don't have to look; I even feel kinda embarrassed about some things I wrote on the uh drawing,, but like,,, I have skipped the cringe 13 year old on the internet phase and I am going to fix that...

I present to you The MTNT Squad

The whole concept for them is that they are a special unit composed exclusively of mutants from their respective species. They're not excessively strong but they are. Ridiculously. Endurant. You can place these in the middle of a nuclear explosion and they'll go unscathed (it's a bit of a hyperbole but... Yeah.)

They are basically stranded on Planet Frieza 879, and are on their own. They got a garden and can sustain themselves and trade with the locals when they do not seize materials. The MTNT squad members aren't excessively strong, their best quality is that they're smart and scary, so they utilize fear to be respected and left alone.

Breeze ; acts all tough and feral (crawls around the walls n shit) but big softie on the inside and can actually be extremely civilized, more than most people) the first thing bro does in the morning is drinking a whole glass of raw lemon juice. Wine connoisseur (obviously).

-> with his more lizard like behavior, he can makes scary af noises

Mohu ; Killing machine with a hidden bloodthirst. Like the smell of blood will drive him feral. He teddy bear yes, but he also just bear. In love easily. Basically in love with the whole squad. Very attached to them. 

-> is a feral beast (like the first thing bro asked the squad when he first met 'em Was "I demand a sacrifice") 

Candy ; technician and emotionnal support bean he's adorable everyone loves him. Bro is a computer mastermind, technician, medic and surgeon. He✨✨✨✨

-> He.... Candy isn't- inherently scary. But when the lil guy stares up at you with emotionless fly like eyes and says very calmly "I will gut you and hang you with your own intestines"... It's not very reassuring. Like bro's a surgeon. Leave him alone. 

Matcha ; modafuckin' pretty princess ahem no but usually handles politics. Likes Gambling. Wine connoisseur too.

-> is a deadly venomous snake

Hiyo ; is actually the head of the squad. You wouldn't expect that from a cannibalistic psychic but yeah. And he's actually really good at it too.

-> is... Is a fucking cannibal psychic what else do you need (he might even be the strongest of them) 

And question is 'How tf is Mohu a Sayian' actually he was abandoned and left to die on a random moon when his parents discovered he was a weird mutant beast. Then he joined the MTNT squad and started indirectly working for Frieza. 

^those are my.. almost.... unmodified notes.

ok bye. *buries myself*

[bellaturner]

Hi! I am loving the writings at the moment! I was wondering if you could write something where reader is dating Alex and also an interviewer and she has to interview him. So its all flirty and if their relationship isn’t public yet Alex constantly nearly gives it away.

I just kinda had the thought and thought it would be cute and I have no time to write atm and honestly you could probably write it better anyway lmao

Alex sat across the sofa from you, and you attempted to maintain a professional demeanor despite the playful tension in the room.

"So, mister Turner," you began, but before you could continue, he playfully interrupted.

"Oh, you sound so sexy calling me 'mister'," he teased with a mischievous grin.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his antics. "Come on, Alex," you said, raising your hands to your face in mock annoyance. "I'm trying to do my job here," you sighed, a hint of amusement in your voice.

"Sorry, babe," he apologize, but moved his hand up your thigh at the same time "I'll behave myself," he promised at the same time he fixed his sunglasses on his face.

"Al, please," you asked, once again, "I'm gonna get fired if you don't cooperate." you were practically begging this time.

"Sure, love," he said, removing his hand from you. "Ask your questions, but i'm gonna fuck you so hard after we get home." he winked at you.

You took a deep breath, attempting to regain your focus. Your boyfriend's flirtatious behavior was undeniably distracting, but you needed to continue the interview professionally. "Ahem," you cleared your throat and made another attempt. "So, Mr. Turner," you said, maintaining direct eye contact, "your band's latest album is titled 'The Car'." You pointed out this fact, well aware of the answer to the upcoming question. "Could you enlighten us on the reason behind that choice?" You asked, attempting to appear genuinely curious, though you suspected you weren't doing a great job of it.

You had been actively involved in the entire album composition process. You'd even assisted Alex, your boyfriend, and the rest of the band in brainstorming some of the song titles. You were aware that certain songs were inspired by your relationship, which added an extra layer of complexity to your professional life.

"Well," Alex began, avoiding direct eye contact with you, "we wanted it to have that perfect 'road trip' sound, you know?" he explained, trying to maintain a casual tone.

"Interesting choice," you responded, a sense of frustration creeping into your voice. You were beginning to feel exasperated with the interview, and you hadn't even reached the halfway point yet.

You decided to press on with the interview, determined to maintain your professionalism despite Alex's distractions. "I see what you mean," you replied, shifting your focus back to the questions. "The album definitely has a vibrant, on-the-road feel to it. Can you tell us more about the creative process behind it?"

Alex leaned back in his seat, appearing more relaxed as he delved into the band's creative journey. He began to share insights into their writing sessions and the stories behind some of the songs. You listened intently, trying to keep the conversation on track.

As the interview continued, you couldn't help but notice the way Alex's foot subtly brushed against your leg under the table. It sent a jolt of excitement through you, but you had to remain composed.

Throughout the interview, Alex managed to toe the line between playful banter and professional discussion. It was both exhilarating and maddening, knowing that he was purposely teasing you while you had to maintain your facade on camera.

As the interview was getting near the end, you couldn't help but exchange a subtle glance with Alex. It was a silent acknowledgment of the playful dance you'd been engaged in throughout the conversation. He smirked ever so slightly, and you knew he was eager to continue this game behind closed doors.

You wrapped up the interview with a final question about the band's upcoming tour, and Alex provided a thoughtful response.

This would be a tough one to edit - the viewers were none the wiser about your romantic involvement - but you were proud of your ability to mostly maintain your professionalism.

Once the cameras stopped rolling, Alex wasted no time. He leaned in closer, his arms trailing your body and his lips dangerously close to your ear. "You were amazing, babe," he whispered huskily, sending shivers down your spine.

"Thanks," you replied, your voice trembling with desire. "Are you taking me home now?" You asked, turning to pack your handbag.

"Oh no, cutie pie, I'm having you bent over the very table you were using to interview me." He said calmed, collected and demanding, getting out of his seat and towering you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Hihiiii 💕

Felt like doing this one today, it's been long forgotten on my askbox, sorry, my love.

I hope you enjoy it anyway ❤️ (it was wrote while I has high on sleep meds and not prof read)

Lmk if you'd like to be tagged in my posts s2

As always, love you 💕

~ Bella

[sovonight]

promise | xan/radri, bg2 | ao3

—✧✧✧—

"It is true, then, that this Bhaalspawn is an elf? How unfortunate. Then again, it was inevitable that Bhaal would mar our people; it is a small mercy, at least, that she was not raised among us."

"…And why is that?" Xan asks.

"Her violent nature. It inhibits her ability to live peacefully in our society." An eyebrow rises—in response to the expression on his face, Xan realizes. He composes his features, glancing neutrally down at the report in his hands. His writing is neat, thorough… and carefully objective.

"She has no more violent a nature than most adventurers, simply trying to make their way in this world," Xan says.

"Is that so? What led you to this evaluation of her?" A wave of a hand. "Point not to her good intentions; they matter little when her actions lead only to bloodshed."

"I can only ask to be believed as one of her earliest and most constant companions," Xan says. "She finds no joy in the path she has been set on, and is as much at the mercy of the coming chaos as we."

"…I see." The words contain a sense of surprise—he was not expected to speak of her this way. "Well, it matters not in the end. She should not be a concern for long. No doubt another of her kin will dispose of her, as she disposed of Sarevok—and so it will go on until this period of chaos, too, is swept behind us."

Dispose of her? Xan's grip on his report weakens; the papers shift, threatening to fall.

"Ah, hold a moment." A shuffling of papers on the desk. "I nearly forgot—there is another assignment for you. You will be traveling to Athkatla. We believe that—"

"I refuse to go." Barely aware that his lips have moved, it takes Xan a moment to realize that the words were his—and that he is now being stared at.

"Ahem—well, let me first describe it to you in full. I know you may not think yourself qualified, but I assure you, you are—"

"I resign."

—

"You seem to contemplate your moonblade more often these days," Radri says.

Xan looks abruptly up from the exposed flames of the moonblade, and sheathes it quickly before she can see much of it. Letting the door to their room close behind her, Radri joins him by the window, noting upon her approach the way that he casts his gaze upon the windowpanes—quiet, and subdued. This alone is not unlike him, but his grip on the moonblade's hilt is tight, and as she'd said, she's noticed him watching its flames frequently ever since their reunion.

"Is something… wrong?" Radri asks.

Xan pauses, a breath held, before sighing and meeting her eye.

"I can hide nothing from you, can I?" Xan says.

Xan turns away from the window, the sunlight upon him shifting away from his profile and falling into bright lines upon his shoulders, instead. His hand is still on the moonblade's hilt, his thumb beside the gem on its pommel. Radri recalls that despite the lack of light in Mulahey's lair, the moonblade's gems had displayed brilliant flashes of color when she opened the chest it had been held captive in… but now, they appear dull and ordinary.

"I was going to wait until I was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt, but I think I am only deluding myself to hope otherwise now," Xan says. "My moonblade's flames have dimmed."

What?

"It—it isn't dying, is it?" Radri asks, despite feeling that her guess is unlikely; she fears that any other explanation would mean worse.

Xan casts his gaze down towards the dusty floor between them, pausing to consider his next words.

"As I think I mentioned once, this blade will outlive you and I for a long time yet," Xan begins. "No, it is something else. I thought at first that it was scolding me for failing to protect you from Irenicus… but those were my own feelings. Unfortunately, I suspect it is displeased with my departure from Evereska and the Greycloaks."

"Why?" Radri asks. "You haven't abandoned your duties. Like with the child, in the Temple District—you didn't need to be a Greycloak to help her."

"The moonblade's judgment is not a system of points and tallies, Estel'amin," Xan says. "If I commit senseless murder one day, but then save a life the next, do you think my moonblade would consider my transgression forgiven?"

"You know what I mean," Radri says. "You're still Xan, after everything. Your heart hasn't changed."

His gaze rises to meet hers with a solemn look.

"Hasn't it?" Xan asks.

His eyes are patient, waiting for her at his guidance's conclusion—and when she finds it, her brows flinch upwards in hurt.

"Me? But I…" Radri says, her gaze flicking down to the moonblade before returning to his eyes, "It only sees me as a Bhaalspawn?"

"I cannot say for certain how it sees you," Xan says, "But it understands what I am willing to do for you."

"What… What you're willing to…" Radri says, feeling faint, imagining what he would possibly need to do to draw the moonblade's ire, "No, you wouldn't do anything like that."

"How can we know? It is said that a man does not know his true limits until he is pushed to the brink of desperation," Xan says, and sighs. "Besides, I cannot be sure that the journey ahead will afford me the luxury of choice. Who can say what your fate will drive us to? Will there always be a better option? If presented with two evils, my death is certain, no matter which I choose."

"But—wouldn't the moonblade recognize that you're in a difficult situation, and be merciful?" Radri asks.

"I do not think it possible," Xan says. "Because as long as I am with you, there is a third choice: abandoning you. As I refuse to do so, I can only bear the consequences."

Consequences. Death. She knew the moonblade could kill him, but had never considered it a possibility—despite all his self-deprecating comments, Xan has always struck her as a steadfast and competent wielder. To think that she might be what changes that….

"Despite everything, we are, in a way, fortunate," Xan says, his voice filtering back into her awareness. "We have the courtesy of a gentle warning. It could have given no indication until the day it killed me, instead."

His tone is light—for him—and while his words are spoken almost sarcastically, she gets the sense that he's trying to reassure her.

"Is there nothing I can do?" Radri asks, feeling even as the words leave her that she already knows what his answer will be. Xan's resigned nonchalance fades, leaving only sadness in its place.

"There is nothing for you to do. It is my choice."

She should nod, she thinks; she should accept this as solemnly as he has, and exit without worrying him. But an unmistakable feeling of dread has already begun to burrow into her chest, and though she can duck her head, she cannot raise it. Cut off in her field of vision, Xan moves towards her, his hand reaching out.

"Radri…"

"No," Radri says, a distant part of her hating her failure to bite back her words, "No, it's fine. Khalid is dead, Imoen is gone, Jaheira is cursed, and now you are too."

With a forced, bitter smile, she turns on her heel and escapes the room before she can cry in front of him.

—

"You are still awake," Xan says, surprise apparent on his face. The small flame in his hand flickers as he slips into their room, night having long fallen outside.

"Just thinking," Radri says, though to tell the truth, her past few hours have been spent staring quietly out of the window with her journal untouched by her side. Pushing herself off the bed, she snags the candle from the side table, and meets Xan where he stands by the door; he lets the flame in his hand die, lighting the candle, instead.

"And you? What keeps you up so late?" Radri asks, recalling the echoes of another night. "No visions, I hope?"

"If only I could say that none remain, save for the one that stands before me," Xan says. "But, no. None that I have not come to expect."

"Deep in study, then?" Radri asks, stepping away to return the candle to the side table.

"One could say that," Xan says, and sighs. "I have been studying the moonblade again."

Radri stills. After she had run out of their last conversation, Xan had not brought it up again—and she, both ashamed of her response and preoccupied with worry for Jaheira's more immediate curse, had not either. In the end, Jaheira's curse had been resolved in a matter of days, but she doubts that Xan is here now to tell her the cure to his.

"…Has it gotten worse?" Radri asks.

"At this point, you would be able to see "worse" without my telling you. No, I have other news," Xan says. "If my moonblade were to attempt to strike me down, there is perhaps a way that I could survive it. I have discovered a way to divert part of the damage, so that it is shared between myself and another."

She blinks.

"You… You can survive it?" Radri asks.

"I may have a chance to," Xan corrects her, but it hardly tempers her response: in an instant, she has him in a tight hug.

"Xan," Radri breathes with relief, "Just tell me what needs to be done, and I'll do it. I have more health, too, I can take more of the damage—"

"Estel'amin," Xan says, his hand cupping her cheek and lifting her gaze to his, "When did I say that you would need to be the one to bear it with me?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Radri says. Xan sighs.

"And to think, I agonized over this to such a late hour," Xan says. "Yes, in the end, you are the only one I can ask. To divert the damage, a connection must be established with the moonblade—not a true connection, only a fraction of one, guided by my hand. Normally, even this would be impossible, as the moonblade will accept ties to none but its wielder… but we are bonded, our spirits intertwined in the Weave. It will know nothing."

Xan separates himself from her gently, taking her hands into his, and looks seriously into her eyes.

"However, I cannot guarantee that this will work as I have planned," Xan says. "Even if we are successful today, there is a chance that the moonblade's wrath will be too great for us to bear, and you may very well end up dying alongside me. If you are at all hesitant, we will leave this here, and it will be as if I never spoke."

"I'm certain, Tahlimil. I want this," Radri says.

But at the sound of his name, a strum of uncertainty travels across their bond—when, usually, the emotion that her use of his name elicits from him is affection. Uncertain herself if she had felt that correctly, Radri searches the depths of his eyes—but she finds the same uncertainty there, as well.

"…Are you hesitant?" Radri asks.

Xan's eyes widen, caught—and as his gaze falls from hers, she notices what she had not recognized to be courage in his shoulders, as well.

"How can I not be?" Xan confesses. "The moonblade's consequences should be mine to bear, and mine alone. This is one burden I am not meant to share."

"...Then you don't think this is the right thing to do," Radri says, feeling the beginnings of a dull resignation grow in her heart. But rather than agree with her, the corners of Xan's lips rise in a faint, self-amused smile.

"No, I do. I feel I must have gone mad to think so, but despite everything, I do. It is only that, from this moment forward, all I can do is hope against hope that my choice is understood," Xan says, then his smile fades. "I seem to have found myself experiencing many of these moments, in these past months…."

His last sentence is spoken less to her, and more to himself—and he looks tired again, worn, like he did on the day of their reunion. The urgency of before forgotten, Radri reaches up to brush the shadow of his hair aside from his eyes, and trails the caress to hold the side of his face gently in her palm.

"Sounds exhausting," Radri says, softly. "Will you tell me?"

Xan's gaze rises to meet hers, and free from shadow, a trace of candlelight flickers in his dark eyes.

"Stories for another time," Xan says—and yet, his gaze is tender, and a weight seems to have been lifted, as if another piece of resolve has found its place. He draws her touch to his lips, and kisses her hand briefly, before releasing it back to her.

Unfastening the moonblade from his belt, Xan holds it between them, its grip held loosely in one hand, and its sheath in the other.

"This is your last chance to change your mind," Xan says.

Radri's gaze runs across the moonblade; its brilliant flames are hidden at present, and she has never stared very long into that fire when she had the chance, but she has an imprint of them on her mind's eye—perhaps from Xan's memory.

Radri meets his eye, committed, and Xan inclines his head.

"Then lay your hand over mine," Xan guides. "I will begin."

—

The pillow at the back of her head is firmer than usual. Scrunching her closed eyes further, Radri shifts, trying to ease the stiffness in her neck. She had had the strangest vision: a storm had visited her, and pain had followed, painted in vivid flames…

"Radri?" The word is hushed, relieved—and opening her eyes, Radri finds Xan looking worriedly down at her.

The pillow is him, she thinks, and then, Why am I…?

"You fell unconscious as I finished the spell," Xan explains, upon seeing the slight disorientation in her eyes. "I was barely able to catch you."

The spell—the moonblade. Radri sits up, her eyes finding the moonblade, which lays beside them. She doesn't know what she should expect. The moonblade doesn't look any different, and besides a faint headache that has already subsided, she doesn't feel any different, either.

"Did it work?" Radri asks.

"I believe so, though I hope we will not have to put it to the test," Xan says. "But that is not my concern at the moment. You cried out in pain…"

Xan takes her face into his hands, looking over her with worry—but all she feels now is relief, and she leans affectionately into his touch.

"I'm alright, Xan," Radri says. "In fact, I feel much better."

"Better?" Xan echoes. "You do remember what you have just agreed to?"

"Of course," Radri says, an effortless smile blooming on her face. "You're safe."

"…Safe-er," Xan concedes, though his expression carries all the words he's holding back. She's only secured him a chance; as long as he's tied to the moonblade, he's still doomed.

But at least we're doomed together, Radri thinks. She nestles in against him, floating on the feeling of having been able to do something to help, after all the helplessness of these past few weeks.

"We're really in this together now," Radri murmurs to herself, and sighs. "Almost like we're married."

Her head rests against his shoulder, but instead of accepting her into his embrace as usual, Xan stills, his surprise flitting across their bond.

"Married?"

"Ah—Wait, I meant—" Radri rushes, ready to take back her words, but Xan relaxes, drawing her close and kissing her hair.

"I suppose it is," Xan says. "Right now, your safety is all that matters, but perhaps once Irenicus is taken care of, we will be able to hold the ceremony. During those days we spent on the road, before everything, I imagined it would be a grand event, held in Evereska…"

Xan speaks wistfully, his head leant against hers—but Radri pulls herself away.

"You still want to marry me?" Radri asks, looking at him in disbelief.

"Yes?" Xan says, puzzled by her question—then his expression falls. "Do you… no longer wish to?"

"No," Radri starts, before rushing to clarify, "No, I mean, I do wish to! But, I thought… You know, given…"

"That you cannot enter Evereska? That was just a remnant of a dream; we can be wed anywhere you wish," Xan says.

"No, it's—"

"The size of the ceremony?" Xan asks. "If you desire it, it can simply be the two of us, although I assumed that at the least you would want Imoen present—"

"A Bhaalspawn," Radri forces out before she drowns in his consideration, "How could a Bhaalspawn associate herself with your House?"

She can't face him, but their bond communicates the conflicted emotion she hides on her face to him regardless. The sequence of his response follows: a shard of surprise, then a fierce protectiveness, which becomes a familiar warmth.

"Why should that matter?" Xan says. "My House will soon fall out of memory outside of Evermeet; my siblings have already left in the Retreat."

His touch finds her shoulder, but she does not relax.

"So I will never meet them?" Radri asks. "So you will never see them, ever again? Suppose we survive this, and live long—how will you explain me to them?"

"My life is my own. I will not have them judge me for it," Xan says; though subtle, there is an edge in those words. "Besides… I am not as close with my siblings as you are with Imoen."

"Your other ties, then," Radri says. "You do not think much of them, but you have them—many more than I."

"My other ties are of even less consequence," Xan says, growing serious and concerned now. "Radri… you know I care little for what others think. What is this really about?"

This is about him. This is about how, since the moment she read Gorion's letter, her life has well and truly torn apart at the seams—and how, since their reconciliation in the catacombs, she has not yet seen Xan hesitate to tear his apart to match her. She cannot regret her newly formed connection with the moonblade—not when it can save him, and allow him to stay with her—but she can add it to the cost of their love, and feel its weight press down upon her.

"I don't want you to do this for me," Radri says, her throat growing tight with emotion. "You shouldn't have to do this for me. I am the reviled Bhaalspawn—"

"And I am the moonblade wielder, and yet you now bear part of my burden with me," Xan says. "Would you deny me the same?"

"That's different," she says, "It's my fault to begin with."

"You may as well say that I am at fault, for choosing to follow you," Xan says, "Or Alaundo is at fault for writing his prophecies, or Bhaal is—well, perhaps we can all agree that Bhaal is at fault. Or is it the very nature of our world itself that is at fault?"

She doesn't respond, and in her silence, Xan wraps his arms around her in another embrace. His head rests beside hers, and his voice emerges low, and quiet.

"You wish to spare me, Estel'amin, but I am not content to be spared," Xan says. "Let me bear this with you."

His comfort is tempting, familiar. She had sheltered in it in Candlekeep's catacombs; in Baldur's Gate, when her heritage had become public knowledge; and in this same room, weeks ago, when Xan had found his way back to her and she had cried in his arms, Irenicus' pain still fresh in her mind. She wants to close her eyes and accept it again, but her thoughts run on: How long can this last?

One day, Xan will come to his senses, and he will regret having thrown everything away for her. What awaits her is either his death or his resentment...

...She should just let him go.

A pang shoots through Radri's heart at that thought, and echoes in Xan's. His compassion, his worry, rise in her chest—and enveloped in his warmth, she cannot bring herself to refuse him just yet.

"Okay," she whispers, at last.

"Will you promise it?" Xan asks. "Will you bind us together, as I did?"

There is a twinge of desperation in those words, as though he knows what she had just considered. A weak smile pulls the curve of her mouth upwards, for no one's benefit but her own.

"I'm not the one with the sentient sword," Radri says. "There's no need for binding. Besides, I don't have any spells."

"You do," Xan says. "Your kiss, for one. And I wish to be bound to you—so there is, in fact, a need."

Radri finds the strength to pull away from his embrace to look at him; Xan is determined, and completely serious. The line of her mouth breaks into a wobble.

"You are so…" She doesn't know whether she wants to laugh or cry; she releases a puff of a breath that could be the precursor to either, "Ridiculous."

The look on Xan's face softens, and in lieu of words he simply closes his eyes, presumably waiting for her binding kiss.

"Xan… really," Radri tries.

But as he waits, and she gazes upon him waiting, a small glimmer of hope emerges in her chest—not that her kiss can be any substitute for a spell, or that she has any ability to bind them together outside of their existing bond, but that she can believe him. Xan has weighed his sacrifices; he knows them better than she. And here, there are no monks, no Phlydia, no Keeper of Tomes, with a thousand words of warning and misplaced compassion that wind through her past to say but one thing: You are more trouble than you are worth.

"I promise to let you bear this with me," Radri says, at last. The words leave her more easily than she had thought—and miraculously, she feels lighter for them. A corner of Xan's lips rises.

"And…?"

Feeling a bit silly, she nevertheless leans in and kisses him lightly on the forehead. When she pulls away, Xan's eyes are open once more, bearing the warmth of candlelight within them as he meets her gaze.

"Thank you, Estel'amin." His love and sincerity wash over her through the bond; she blushes.

"N-Now—shall we go to bed, at last? Or are we going to exchange promises until sunrise?" Radri asks, standing quickly to avoid acknowledging the heat in her face. She holds a hand out to Xan, who gazes up at her with a faint smile upon his lips.

"To bed," Xan confirms, and rises to join her; he kisses her warm cheek.

She sits at the side of the bed, and waits for Xan to retrieve the moonblade and lean it against the side table, as always. When his attention is hers again, he accepts her hand, and the candle is extinguished with a quiet command.

[yanderelinkeduniverse]

WELCOME BACK BESTIE! IVE MISSED YOU! HOWS LIFE? ARE YOU DRINKING YOUR WATER?

Ahem- sorry I'll compose myself. I see requests are open and was wondering if I could ask for some Yandere Wild? Maybe he comes back after totk and he introduces his new darling he met during his second journey? Kinda like-

Wild: this is my precious wildflower, if anything happened to them I would destroy every Hyrule and then myself.

Chain: you mean OUR new darli-

Wild, holding a ruby stick: No. No I did not.

(If you do anons can I be 🍙 anon?)

Hey first ask! I haven’t ever thought about doing those cute little anon emojis, but sure that sounds like fun!

Quick disclaimer, you haven’t done anything wrong anon, but I’m just gonna reiterate that I have not played ToTK so far and I do not want to be spoiled. All I know so far is that you can build crazy stuff, there’s lots of enemies, stuff happens to the Master Sword, and that’s about it, so please be kind and do not spoil major story beats for me.

Sorry, just wanted to get that out of the way and make sure everyone is in the know. Anyways onto the actual ask.

Something I find very funny is that, the way this ask is worded, just implies that Wild is constantly having to beat back his fellow heroes - who all want a piece of his darling - with a stick.

Funnily enough, waaaaay back when this blog wasn’t even created and I just had a couple of ideas for the Chain being yandere, I had the idea of Wild having an honest to goodness partner during his journey. Not a companion, a partner, someone who shared his burden and title as “The Hero” and was with him from waking up(also with amnesia) to defeating the Calamity.

So perhaps when Wild gets taken away from the Chain to go complete this second quest, he gets that sort of partner who helps him from beginning to end. Someone who eases his pain and keeps him company in those dark nights when his thoughts are too loud.

I’m sure that a darling that would absolutely make the Chain jealous and want to get close too, but Wild is just super possessive and doesn’t want to share this one good thing in his life. But since his partner is now also a hero in their own right, they get dragged along for the ride as well and Wild has to work overtime to make sure the Chain doesn’t try anything sneaky.

Not sure if this is what you were imagining, but it’s the first thing that came to mind!

[in-stitchesx]

Physically leaving the store after someone said the cursed t word is... So... Like???? Ahem .. mjhmmn..... Umm....

Yes I need 30 whole minutes to compose myself the context was even worse I can't go back in there... 🤍

[australet789]

TLK: And i saw myself

Continuation of this Kiara needed to think. Rafiki's word still danced on her mind. Were The Lions of The Past really the reason she was with Kovu? Has she ever had a choice about her life? Could she even trust her own heart or it was just all a big plan? Will her cubs be part of it as well?

She couldn't face her family. Not with the knowledge she learned. So she went to the side of Priderock and let herself lost into the night sky...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I was waiting for you, my child."

The voice rumbled on her head, filling the black space Kiara had just woken into. But she wasn't afraid. The voice was...calm and soothing, like she had know it all her life.

"Because I had always been with you since the day you were born", replied the voice. Kiara pressed her ears to her head, trying to hide her thoughts from this presence. "Don't be afraid," the voice chuckled, "I can't hear your thoughts, you just had the same reaction I had when I entered this place for the first time. I am going to admit, it is quite scary. But come closer. I want to finally meet one of my grandcubs in person and not from the sky".

Grancubs? Could it be..?

"Mufasa?" Adjusting her eyes to the darkness, Kiara finally recognized the spirit in front of her.

The old king nodded. "But how? I thought only The Lion Guard-"

"Yes, usually, only The Lion Guard's leader can communicate with the ancestors. But once in a while, some animals are chosen to be more perceptive of The Lion of The Past's wishes and knowledge. And you, are one of them."

Kiara looked away from her granfather's spirit, remembering the conversatio from earlier. "I'm aware".

Mufasa frowned. Kiara tilted her head. "You didn't happen to overhear my conversation with Rafiki and how he told me you were the one who decided me and Kovu were together?"

The spirit of her grandfather blinked. And after a moment of silence, Mufasa did something she would have never expected the respected king to do: he threw his head back and groaned. Loudly.

"Great Kings, give me patience with that old mandrill." It was so, so unexpected, that Kiara couldn't help to laugh. Mufasa, realising he was caught in a moment, blushed (as much as a spirit could blush) but then laughed along his grandaughter.

"Ahem!" the lion composed himself. "Listen, Kiara. Rafiki said the truth that it was my plan to make you and Kovu be together, but it was you who gave me the idea."

"Come again?"

"I thought Simba was going to heal The Pridelands," continued the king, "but we- I didn't consider how much Scar had hurt my son. His heart was still healing and his soul was broken even more when your old brother Kopa died."

Kiara remembered the stories about an older brother she never got to meet.

"I wanted to intervene, to show Simba there was a way to unite the prides again. But he has built a shell around his heart. And you were born and he was raising you to hate the Outsiders too. I thought the war was going to last forever. But you...you weren't like your father. You were curious, you were open-minded...and you gave Kovu a chance." There was pride in Mufasa's words. "You, Kiara, saw beyond his exterior, beyond the prejudices you were raised into, defied your instincts, and decided to be friends with the enemy."

"It was all you, Kiara. You taughe me there was still a chance to make The Pridelands the way it was before Scar's reign. I only told Rafiki what your heart already showed to me, to us. The rest, was all you."

Her heart was beating quickly. Kiara couldn't believe what she was hearing. But her grandfather's words resonated not only in the void they were talking to but in her soul.   "Never doubt on your decisions, my child." Reassured him. "You are what I was supposed to be, what I was supposed to do in my time as King. But I was naive and blinded to my brother's doing and what I was told to do. You didn't. You defied that. You were truth to yourself, as a Queen should do."

Something rumbled around them. And Kiara knew it was time.

"Grandfather...thank you." Kiara tried to bow but a warm paw stopped her. "No." And then Mufasa bowed to her. "Thank you."

And then Kiara opened her eyes. ----------------------------------------------------- Kovu was tired. He never thought fatherhood was going to be this hard. It was scary, but seeing his cubs sleeping between his paws, make it all worth it. If only he knew why was Kiara so bothered about-

*thud*

He felt someone resting on him. But he knew who it was. Looking back at his mate, he could glance a smile on Kiara's muzzle.

Everything was going to be ok...

[aventurineswife]

Since a certain someone ahem @sundaysconsort ahem, made me sad... You guys shall suffer with me 🫶💙

The dim glow of the Astral Express cast soft shadows on the walls, the gentle hum of its engines the only sound breaking the silence. You sat near the windows, gazing out at the stars that blurred into streaks of light, each one carrying the memory of a distant world.

Sunday stood at the other end of the room, his ethereal figure framed by the soft glow of the halo behind him. His wings flickered slightly, betraying the turbulence within, but his face remained composed, as it always did���distant, yet not unkind.

He hadn’t said much since you’d boarded the train together. His usual perceptiveness was there, but today, it felt like he was watching you more than speaking to you. It made the air feel thick with unspoken words, and you found yourself longing for him to speak, to break the silence.

“Are you… alright?” you asked quietly, breaking the stillness.

Sunday turned, his eyes soft, distant. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something else—something more guarded, as he often did. But instead, he took a few slow steps toward you, his back wings folding gently at his back.

He gazed at you for a long time, and for the first time, you saw the subtle weariness behind his eyes. It wasn’t the guilt or the burden of his past, but something more intimate—like a longing, a quiet, almost imperceptible need.

“What happens when we let our hearts heal,” he murmured, almost to himself, as his voice barely rose above the hum of the train. “When we let our souls breathe?”

You tilted your head, unsure whether he was speaking to you or to some deeper part of himself. There was a sadness there, like he had been contemplating it for far too long, but never quite finding the answer.

His gaze met yours, and it was like he was searching for something—reassurance, perhaps, or even a hint of the answer. There was a moment of stillness, and then he stepped closer, his presence drawing you in, though there was no physical force behind it. Just the pull of his quiet, vulnerable self.

“It’s… difficult,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “To imagine a world where wounds don’t define us. To believe that we might find peace, when everything around us tells us that it’s out of reach.”

Your heart tightened, unsure of how to respond. You could see the conflict in him—the same conflict that had always been there, hidden beneath his calm demeanor.

His wings shifted, an almost imperceptible flutter, as he looked away for a moment, clearly struggling with his own thoughts. "I have spent my life trying to save others from pain, from suffering. Yet, in doing so, I’ve never once allowed myself the same kindness.”

You could feel the weight of those words, heavy with the years of internal battles he had fought, the ideals he had tried to uphold, only to face the harsh reality that even the most noble of dreams could come at a cost.

His voice, soft and distant again, slipped out. “What happens when we stop hiding from ourselves? When we let go of all the ways we’ve been conditioned to believe we must be?”

A silence hung in the air, filled with the tension between his idealism and the reality of his struggles. His eyes met yours once more, this time not with the distance you were used to, but with an openness that felt as if he were letting you see the parts of him he so carefully shielded from the world.

“Would you stay with me?” he asked, the question raw, vulnerable in a way that felt foreign to him.

It was a question laden with all the fears he never let himself speak of—the fear of loss, of failure, of not being enough. But there was also something else, something quieter. Hope.

In that moment, as you looked at him, you realized that perhaps he had never truly asked for help, never truly let anyone in. But now, in the delicate balance between his ideals and his heart, he was opening up to the possibility of healing. A possibility that, for the first time, seemed just within reach.

“What happens when we let our hearts heal, when we let our souls breathe?” he repeated, his voice fragile, as though the answer rested between the two of you.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question settle into your chest. With a quiet resolve, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. “I think we learn how to live again,” you whispered.

And for the first time in a long time, you saw the faintest flicker of hope in his eyes.

[anhed-nia]

So I'm in the middle of this research project centered on Dario Argento's OPERA, for which I have required myself to watch as many screen adaptations of the Gaston Leroux novel The Phantom of the Opera as I can take. What I have determined so far is that the Phantom of the Opera is a story everyone wants to tell, but not very many people are sure of how to tell it. In fact, it's not that easy to say what it is about archetypally. You know, Wolfman stories are typically about "the beast in man" (with femininity positioned as some sort of cure for this personality split), Frankenstein stories are usually about human nature (i.e. an uncanny creature can have more humanity than vain and bigoted humans), Dracula-type vampire stories are most generally about the problems of being an outsider (queer, foreign, etc). But Phantom of the Opera is like...well, everyone likes the love story part of it, which is more or less modeled on Dracula, with a woman torn between seductive darkness and the safety of square society. But then there are all these other parts that seem to flummox people in the retelling.

I haven't read the Leroux novel YET but the first round of movies have been interesting, and also sort of perplexing. The iteration from 1925 holds up, largely due to Chaney's creation of the Phantom which remains a top tier monster. People don't often talk about the mask though! Which looks like a cross between Peter Lorre and the Devo Boogie Boy, it's disturbing and I like it.

This Phantom was born in the dungeons during a revolutionary bloodbath and is disfigured from birth, drawing on the antique idea that a mother's trauma is translated in the deformity of her children; also, compellingly, these dungeons lie fathoms beneath the opera house where the bourgeoisie are witlessly dancing on the graves of martyrs and criminals embodied in the Phantom. The ingenue Christine is an interesting figure who breaks up with her boyfriend at the beginning because she wants to give her whole self to her career; when the Phantom starts murmuring to her through the walls it's as if the spirit of opera itself has chosen her to be its avatar, which she seems to find totally rational. It's sort of cool, what other movie of this era has a likeable heroine choosing her potential for greatness over love? This is the element of the story that is the most interesting, but I'll expand on that in a minute.

The Chaney edition benefits a lot from keeping things simple. The 1943 version with Claude Raines has a little bit too much going on and the story doesn't get a lot of time to congeal between so many long opera sequences; this movie really takes the opera part of the title seriously! Actually they're the best thing about it, mostly because of Nelson Eddy who is extremely beautiful and a real opera singer, and who projects this blazing desire for Susanna Foster that is incredibly convincing. Like I'd normally say they have great chemistry, but I think it's just a lot of power radiating from him specifically.

Ahem.

Uh anyway. This movie picks up the reoccurring (but not universal) idea that the Phantom is a genteel and sophisticated composer who has just fallen on hard times, who goes mad when his latest concerto is stolen. He is disfigured while struggling with the plagiarist and installs himself under the opera house where he can haunt his former protege Christine, who is already torn between dreamy Nelson Eddy and her stuffy cop boyfriend. One of my favorite things here is that even though this film is extremely quaint and old fashioned, everybody hates cops; this Christine is less a self-determined careerist than someone who is under pressure from her artist friends who find it profoundly repulsive that she is dating a policeman. Meanwhile the Phantom is just way too gentle and sappy, which is extra disappointing because Claude Rains's Invisible Man is so fabulously chaotic and sadistic, it made me really aware of the Phantom that could have been. This one doesn't properly represent the high society vs. underworld dichotomy that Christine should be torn between. So what is this movie about? There's so many guys in it and a few different themes flapping in the breeze. Is it about love? Is it about self-actualizing through art? Is it about the cutthroat world of showbusiness? It doesn't have that much to say, ultimately, and it just seems really unmotivated. Also I don't like this mask, sue me.

The Hammer edition is even more disappointing, considering the studio's previous successes with Universal Monster remakes. Here Christine is torn between a suave opera producer, the lecherous composer who has plagiarized the Phantom, and yeah the Phantom. Too many guys, it confuses whatever the dynamic and themes are supposed to be. Michael Gough as the plagiarist is so much more evil and threatening than poor Herbert Lom's Phantom that it's hard to stay focused on the main point here. Curiously the Hammer version is rather unromantic, with the Phantom just slapping Christine around until she sings his tunes right; that is kind of refreshing in a way, although it also means that the film lacks tension, which contributes to its being surprisingly anticlimactic. The best guy in the movie is actually Thorley Walters whose character serves almost no narrative purpose at all, he just hulks around with this WTF? look on his face and it is kind of adorable. I guess I like the gross mask in this one, too.

But the Hammer version has one interesting strength, which is that Christine is singing the lead in a new opera about Joan of Arc. Just like Joan, Christine hears a disembodied voice prophesizing her ascent to power. The best thing about the Phantom lore is the idea that the woman has this latent power that can either be activated by the Phantom, or suppressed by her square boyfriend (the relationship being mutually exclusive with opera stardom in many iterations). She isn't just a love object to be possessed, she herself possesses of some kind of devastating energy that needs to be awakened and channeled--or contained and forgotten, if she decides to get married and stay home or something. This is pretty cool, and it is interestingly realized in Dario Argento's OPERA, in which (spoiler alert I guess) a killer stalks an opera singer with the aim of catalyzing her own latent psychopathy. This idea is at the center of my thesis and I'm looking forward to fleshing it out, although I'm kind of dreading all the other PHANTOMs that I have committed myself to watching. I really don't want to deal with Andrew LLoyd Webber at all, but after I get through at least the Joel Schumacher one of the those I'm going to reward myself with a rewatch of PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE which I'm going to guess right now is the best retelling of this story after the Chaney one. I'm counting on Paul Williams' music to be catchier than Webber's.

I'm whining about my own decisions, I know, but really the main hardship of this project is that now I keep getting the Vandals' punk theme song from PHANTOM OF THE MALL: ERIC'S REVENGE stuck in my head, and let me tell you that is very unwelcome. Here it is, if you've decided you're done being happy and sane:

[tostadamika]

Daniel Watches She-Ra

& The Princesses Of Power

-S1E3- 'Razz'

Todays' She-Ra Watchthrough Art: Look I have been having a real shit week or so let me just bullshit this one thanks

Dumb question but why is Glimmers mom British? Also this is probably just me but it looks like her wings are attached to her hair & I can't stop thinking about it.

Oh also yo the theme song?

Yeah that's pretty swell.

A big step up from the original cartoon which was just.....sad? It's just like a sad attempt of being a cool retro cartoon theme song. It fails to live up to any of the greats of decades past.

TMNT 87? Iconic. Badass. Groovy. Radical.

Transformers? Iconic as well. Absolutely fucks.

The Super Mario Bros. Super Show? Fucking ART that makes Hans Zimmer look like an absolute fucking dork.

Sonic Underground? LITERALLY THE GREATEST FUCKING PIECE OF MUSIC EVER COMPOSED BY MANKIND.

80s She-Ra? It's like watching a cat spray diarrhea across my carpet for a solid minute. It's just sad.

Okay so I literally don't know any of their names but uh-

These two. These two evil goons right here.

Are-

Okay so are they like gay? I don't know why but my brain saw this & went "Is this dude dating that lizard? are they going to smooch?"

I have no evidence or any proof to back up my claim here.

But I'm gonna just assume these two are gay & smooching & holding hands & stuff.

Anyways these goon squad characters are lame, also fuck that one girl who was bullying Cat-Ra, like, damn. The fuck is her problem?

Like leave that cat alone she's a fucking cat. Who bullies a cat??

Fuck you!!

Yeah so the only two goons I find myself enjoying are these two because I just get a strong feeling that they might be gay.

Again, I have no proof or evidence. But I'm gonna just say that they are anyway because I decided that I want to & you can't stop me.

Also one of them is a lizard dude. Like I said, that objectively makes him cool as fuck because reptiles are rad as hell.

ALSO GLIMMER & ADORA ARE SO GAY??

LIKE- OKAY FIRST OFF THIS POSE ABOVE THIS SENTENCE? THAT AIN'T A POSE OF A STRAIGHT PERSON. SHE'S AT THE VERY LEAST BI OR LESBIAN OR SOMETHING. BUT NAH THAT POSE IS GIVING ME VERY HEAVY FAG VIBES /POS

GOD THEY'RE GAY THEY'RE GAY THEY ARE GIRLFRIENDS IDC

I fucking squealed at this they're SO IN LOVE AAAAAA

GOD THEY ARE SO GAY

SHE'S BEING SO GAY JUST TALKING ABOUT ADORA/SHE-RA

GAY?? GAY

REAL

IF THEY DONT KISS & HOLD HANDS BY THE END IM GOING TO PISS ON MY NEIGHBOURS MAILBOX

POV: Glimmer introduces you to her wife (she's magic & can become very tall & glows bc she's just cool like that)

Also I like, find She-Ra so fucking funny from the design itself?

She's just.....tall. She's a tall lass. Big. Large. Massive. A Tree.

Like, the fact that she's just....big. Like this is a needed change for her transformation. Being taller is an essential part of it.

One of her magical powers is just being really tall I guess. Like that's part of the transformation, she gets BIG. So that's just considered a power, because it makes her taller.

Being a tall fuck is considered a magical ability in this universe.

Also why did this episode just turn into Pixars' Brave (2012) for the middle part? I'm not upset I'm just confused bc I didn't expect to be hit with this sudden flashback to 2012 shit. But I like this old lady.

But (good job daniel you used but twice in a row, you're so good at writing you stupid fucking idiot-) I just kept being reminded of Brave while watching. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. I haven't watched Brave in like a decade. Like, damn though, this part just reminded me of it a lot & I feel it's worth mentioning.

I should rewatch Brave sometime.

AHEM-

SHE'S SO FUCKING CUTE I WANT TO CRY SHE'S LITERALLY THE SCRUNKLY SCRIMBLO BLORBO AND ALSO A FAGGOT. I LOVE HER. PROTECT THIS SPARKLY FAGGOT & HER MAGICAL WIFE.

GRAHHHHHHH

Whore-Dak Update:

Okay Hordak, you get points just because you told Shadow Weaver to go fuck herself. That's incredibly based & awesome of you. To not only tell the wizard bitch to shove her stupid fucking shadow magic fart clouds up her ass. But you also were like "Hey angry lesbian cat, you get a promotion because you're epic" & that's so real.

I respect a villain who doesn't bully cats for no reason.

(other than because you're a huge bitch cough shadow cunt cough)

You're still nowhere near being Skeletor. But you are definitely a far better villain than the original 80s Hordak was. Keep it up buddy.

[strawbbfluff]

Hellooo!!<3

I really am in love with your fanfictions and if your requests are open, I was wondering if you would mind doing a soft lee zhongli👉👈

have a good day, I hope I didn’t bother you!<333💞

—

“…ahem. director hu, this really isn’t-“

“nonsense! this is good for you. you’re always so uptight! just let me do this. please?” hu tao pleaded, clasping her hands together like a child asking their parent for candy.

“well— i suppose it isn’t too much trouble. as long as we keep it brief. i was planning on meeting up with ms. xianyun for some tea this afternoon,” zhongli relented, not being able to say no to his boss.

after the festivities of lantern rite, the funeral director and her subordinate had spent the week helping the city with cleanup. additionally, they were occupied with organizing props for their new friend furina’s upcoming film. to say the least, they were extremely busy and hadn’t had much time to rest.

“look, it’s really simple. you just place your hands in the bowl, and the stones will heat up and relax any tension,” hu tao explained, setting up the bowl and using her pyro resonance to warm up the smooth, ebony stones. “i do this for xingqiu all the time. it also makes your skin softer!”

“i see. then i will do as you say,” zhongli replied, carefully placing his admittedly tired hands into the bowl, immediately feeling a sense of relief. he couldn’t help the relaxed sigh that escaped his lips.

“it’s awesome, right? lemme know when you’re done, ‘cause i want a turn, too.”

“oh— if the director would like a turn, then by all means,” the older man started, swiftly removing his hands from the bowl and offering it to hu tao. she simply rolled her eyes.

“aiya! it’s fine, mr. zhongli. i offered it to you first! here,” she responded, gently grabbing his hands and placing them back in the warm stones.

zhongli chuckled. “alright, if you insist. i will stay like this for a few minutes longer, then.”

he didn’t know how much time had passed before he slowly opened his eyes to the sensation of fingertips on his shoulders. director hu was— massaging him?

“oh! you’re awake! you’ve been asleep for almost half an hour now. you looked like you needed the relaxation due to your slightly tense stance, so i took it upon myself to give you a complimentary massage! on the house~” hu tao giggled, working at the knots between his shoulder blades.

“that’s very kind of you. i must thank you for your courtesy; however— mmph!” zhongli’s eyes sprung open, an unexpected noise flying out of him before he could even comprehend what was going on.

“mr. zhongli! i was just telling you about how uptight you always are! give it a rest! i’m doing this for you as your friend, not your boss!” hu tao exclaimed, frustrated, starting to poke around his collarbone, neck, and ears, smirking when zhongli seemed to react in the way she had hoped.

“yohohou—! thihihis—!!” zhongli spluttered, removing his hands from the bowl and bringing them up to his neck, careful not to hurt the smaller girl as he pushed softly at her hands.

“ah-ah~ this is part of the treatment! reeeeally helps loosen up that tension~!” hu tao teased, spidering her fingers behind his ears now and letting out an amused laugh when he brought his shoulders up to them.

“suhuhurely you jehehest!” the man wheezed, his ears reddening from how embarrassing the whole situation was. for goodness sake, he was an archon, how could he possibly have gotten so sensitive over the years? retirement really was taking a toll on him.

“nope! no jokes here, mr. zhongli. although, something must be super funny! mind letting me in on your joke~?” hu tao retorted, not even trying to hide her real intentions now as she wriggled her fingertips into his sides, relishing in the panicked giggles from the man.

“t-thahahat’s ehehenough! dihihirector— plehehease!”

hu tao sighed, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “alright, alright. i suppose you’ve had enough for one day.”

zhongli coughed, swiftly composing himself as he dusted off his clothes. he made sure his ears had completely cooled down before he turned to look at the pyro wielder.

“right, well, i thank you for your unique relaxation methods, ms. director. unfortunately, i must be off to see ms. xianyun now. i’ll be back tomorrow bright and early for work,” he rambled, grabbing his lackluster mora pouch as he made his way to the door. hu tao only grinned.

“yeah, yeah, i got it. have fun with your tea party! yknow, you kinda sound like a tea kettle when you—“

zhongli was already out the door.