#been a while since I made a personal post

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 23/12✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@boonalina ha chiesto: Question: Why does Wukong's biblically accurate form have two faces? Also, was there some inspiration for you that made you want to design him like that? (Since I know he doesn't have any canonical Kaiju form in LMK) Also also, DAMN that Kaiju fight was so freaking pretty!! The colors were so well done!

thank you!! He has 3 actually, but in the panels you can see 2 bc the third is facing away from the camera aha.

Anonimo ha chiesto: would you make a Shadowpeach bio parents au zine?

yes I would. But it requires an enormeous amount of organization, plus you need multiple people to organize a zine, from contacting, to marketing, to production, to logistic etc… I don’t have the time right now as I’m already working.

@stro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: Head canon that Red Son uses/used to use the ‘rubber duck’ method while working. The rubber duck method is: when making something by yourself you may get stuck/stressed out because you can’t find a solution to a problem. Have a rubber duck on your desk just so you can verbally explain your problem, which could help you solve it by actually hearing it out loud. But a side effect of this is now Red Son will talk to himself while he works, even if it does help it still freaks his parents out hearing him mumbling to himself when they pass his room. Just something I learned recently when watching a video about writing a characters backstory 👍 I thought you might like this too! Bye <3

i know need Red Son just talking about project to a cute rubber duck and MK finding it adorable.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will LBD come back ? Even if it is just in a dream ?

maybe

Anonimo ha chiesto: how old is MK ? Like 18-21 ???

almost 22.

@haru7110 ha chiesto: IS MEI IMMORTAL LIKE MK AND REDSON IN THE SHADOWPEACH AU??? I NEED TO KNOW!! Fornoreasonwhatsoeverobviouslyhahahahaha (angst purposes)

no Mei is not immortal, but I would guess she has a lifespan slightly longer than average bc of her family.

@cutvdo ha chiesto: When you first draw Red Son in his human form he looked small, but later he looks bigger (probably from you getting more comfortable drawing him). I like to think he changed his human form a bit because he found out MK likes big man

this is the best conclusion ever. He would fr fr

Anonimo ha chiesto: Guess you could say MK got his own personal monkey tree

omfg-

@aizieweex ha chiesto: Hey Kyri!!! I LOVE your art, aaaand thanks for the recent repost of my animatic (or animatik?...I honestly don't know which is more correct, I'm not a native speaker at all), I literally screamed, lol (And still screaming). I wanted to ask, how many parts of the comic are you counting on? Do you already have a certain planned number of chapters? Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! How long will the shadow peach bio parents au be?

there will be 9 parts in total. I don’t know the exact number of chapters left but I can assume around 30.

@copyrightedbystarkindustries ha chiesto: Love your art!!! Are you planning on putting shadowpeach au stuff on your redbubble in the future?

Yes I do! But first I need to finish my job which will be more or less on the 20th of January.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does MK use a glamour to hide some scars or something his parents aren’t supposed to find out about ?

yes

@twilight-bai-he ha chiesto: When you said during the livestream that MK will have a new outfit when he is magical girl, What do you mean by that ?

that he will eventually own a new outfit as “official outfit” let’s say. That isn’t his temporary fighting outfit he has now.

@magician-kitty ha chiesto: You think Mac will get more flustered now that Wukong’s more muscular thanks to all that weight lifting from the previous chapters?

a little bit yes.

@whotookfinn ha chiesto: Hey!! I’m absolutely in love with your art, it’s so beautiful and wonderful and IM OBSESSED. Anyway, I’m not sure if you’ve been asked this before, but who’s your favorite lmk character to draw?

macaque and Mk, they fluffy.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I HAVE A QUESTION! after your shadowpeach AU will be finished will you do other lmk Au????

nope.

@cjtuy ha chiesto: My question is about tang and pigsy are they married I've always wondered this

no they are not married, but it’s something they have been thought for a little bit. They known each other for years and got together for one. They know they work very well as a couple, and marriage would only be a more “official” way to show their union. It’s on their mind, maybe they will plan it in the near future

Anonimo ha chiesto: Have you seen that Brandon Roger's clip where he loses his kid? I can just imagine macaque going through that right now with mk being kidnapped. "Mothers adrenaline is kicking in!!" "have you seen my son, he's about this tall, clearly gay but we haven't had the talk" https://youtu.be/dJJUFrENZ_o?si=lbacsYlJr8XpaDQQ (this is the sound just in case)

LMAO I know that video by heart yes absolutely those would be the parents.

Anonimo ha chiesto: In the Bioparents AU, is Redson actually going to be able to court so Mk in the end after the whole celestial situation?

they will have time to do their stuff after the heaven shenanigans.

@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: I hope you are having a lovely day/night and are healthy and well AND TYSM FOR THAT SPICYNOODLES KISS I LOVED IT AND MY HEART WAS ABOUT TO BURST! Anyway I was wondering if mk and Redson parents are gonna have quality time with there Nephew in spirt/potential son in law?

mm yes. Post heaven shenanigans but yes.

@cpazy ha chiesto: About that,

It means that Mac and MK's powers have to do with the moon cycle, like on a full moon they get stronger or something like that? And if there is an eclipse where the moon turns red, their powers would go out of control?

Yes, but the opposite. On a full moon they are weaker, while on a new moon they are stronger.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! Not a question but I just love and ADORE your shadowpeach bio parents au! ❤️ Recently you had posted about LMK fic recommendations, I wanted to recommend "The Constellations Within Us" and it's sequel "Epilogue: Axis" (ongoing) by cloud_somersault on AO3. It's one of my favorite LMK/Shadowpeach fics! The writing and world building are stellar and it includes similar themes as the ones in your comic, like the themes of reconciliation, shadowpeach angst and repairing their friendship and their joint custod- I mean- mentorship of MK! It's a really good fic and I highly recommend giving it a read! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48308065 And again, love your comic so much! Have a great day! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

aaahhhh I will definetely check them out!

@astro-nomaly ha chiesto: Per ur Bio Parents AU, what happens when a courtnapping occurs, but the person getting napped isn’t actually into the courtnapper, and doesn’t want to be napped? Does courtnapping have a “leave whenever you want” clause or..? (I love ur au akshhenwb)

they are allowed to refuse anytime. If the kidnapper doesn’t allow the he’s a dick

@thecardboardbutterfly ha chiesto: Since everyone is starting to fear for tomorrow, I decided to share my convoluted thought I got yesterday night at like, 3AM to lighten the mood a bit (.3.)~* So Technically, given that Lmk is very much based on Journey to the West, maybe it's not that much of a stretch to call Lmk fan content of JTTW, like some kind of future AU or something. Which means your AU is fan content of Lmk. See where I'm getting at? Because your comic is so popular in the fandom, there is fan content of your AU out there, which is already fan content. Which means we reached a point where we have fan content (fanarts and various inspirations of the bio parents AU) of fan content (said bio parents AU) of fan content (Lmk) of a piece of content (JTTW). The chain is GETTING LONGER BOYS. I personally think it's funny. My apologies for everyone who lost their brain/ last remaining braincell reading this x)

omg. It’s a fan-inception!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will Red Son and MK ever have a bad date?

I like to believe EVERY date will have would be comically bad. But I think that’s because they still need to understand that they don’t fall under the “typical demon date” or “amatonormativity” umbrella. The best date they could have is just them training and having lunch later, or them playing videogames or netflix and chill.

@sollythesalt ha chiesto: Dumb question but do you remember the scene in lmk where Wukong said he has stage fright? I wonder if you're gonna do something with that knowledge…. Ps: Keep doing your magic queen we love you and your art✌️💅

oh u bet I did

[goldfades]

okay but a paige x highschool sweetheart headcannons…….🤫

you’ve known paige since middle school, back when she had braces and that oversized basketball hoodie she wore like a uniform. you weren’t best friends right away, though

she was the loud one, all confidence and easy laughter, and you were… not. but eighth grade science class changed that—she offered you half of her sandwich during a field trip, and suddenly, she was sitting next to you every day

and by the time high school started, paige was already a star

everyone knew her name, not just because she was the point guard who could do things no one else could, but because she had that kind of energy that pulled people in

and yet, her favorite place to be was still with you—sitting on your bedroom floor, eating pizza, and letting you quiz her on geometry proofs. she claimed you were her good luck charm whenever she passed a test

paige didn’t officially ask you out until sophomore year. she said she’d been working up the courage for months—you laughed because, honestly, what did paige bueckers have to be nervous about?

but she was fidgeting with the drawstring of her hoodie, looking at you like she’d miss her next shot if you said no. of course, you didn’t

being with paige meant learning to share her with the world. you went to all her games, cheered louder than anyone else, and learned to love the way she’d scan the crowd for you after every buzzer, that grin of hers lighting up the whole gym when she found you

she’d sneak you into post-game interviews sometimes, just so she could wink at you while pretending to answer a serious question

she loved basketball, sure, but she loved you, too—in a way that made it clear you weren’t just her high school sweetheart

you were her person, the one she wanted next to her, whether she was on the court or sitting on the roof of your car, counting stars

and when senior year rolled around—the stakes felt higher, both on and off the court. she was being courted by every top college program in the country, and you—you were figuring out what life after high school might look like for the two of you

late-night talks turned into plans scrawled in notebooks, filled with possibilities of visits, long-distance calls, and maybe even the same college, if the stars aligned just right

when the acceptance letters came in, it felt like fate. uconn for both of you!

paige couldn’t stop smiling for days, talking about how you’d get to keep cheering her on, just in a bigger arena. but the transition to college wasn’t as seamless as either of you had hoped

paige was the star recruit—the freshman everyone had their eyes on. she was juggling practice, games, media appearances, and the pressure of being "the next big thing"

meanwhile, you were trying to find your footing in a new environment, feeling a little like you were standing in her shadow for the first time

it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but there were nights when it felt like the distance between you wasn’t just physical. you missed the simplicity of high school, the way things felt so easy back then

paige tried—she really did—to balance it all, but sometimes it felt like basketball demanded every piece of her

by sophomore year, the fights started. little things at first—missed plans, forgotten texts. but they added up, like a pressure cooker ready to burst. there was one night, after a particularly tough loss, when everything came out

"i’m trying my best, okay?" she’d said, voice raw. "you think i don’t miss how things used to be? but this… this is my dream. and i don’t know how to do it all."

"and what about us?" you’d shot back, tears in your eyes. "am i supposed to just wait around while basketball gets all of you?"

it was the kind of fight that felt like a turning point—the kind where you either figure it out or fall apart. and somehow, through the tears and the yelling, you found a way to talk. really talk.

paige admitted she’d been scared of losing you, of letting you down. you told her how lonely you’d been, how hard it was to feel like you were coming second to everything else. by the time the sun started to rise, you’d fallen asleep on her dorm room floor, her arms wrapped tightly around you, like she was scared you’d disappear if she let go

things weren’t perfect after that but they were better. you both learned how to make time for each other, even when it felt like there wasn’t any to spare

paige started bringing you to practices sometimes, letting you sit courtside while she worked through drills. you found your own rhythm at school, joining clubs and making friends who reminded you that you were more than just "paige bueckers’ girlfriend."

by the end of sophomore year, you’d both grown in ways you didn’t expect. paige was still the same girl who gave you half her sandwich back in eighth grade, and you were still her good luck charm

but now, you were partners, too—figuring out how to build a life together, one game, one moment at a time

[babyangelsky]

BL Boys I Wanted Carnally in 2024 💖✨

Welcome to Babyangelsky's 2024 Wrap Up! To commemorate my second year of watching QL dramas, and my first year of actually talking on my blog, I've compiled a series of lists to celebrate all the QL things I loved this year!

Please feel free to take my categories and make lists of your own and tag me in them if you do!

💜 All the lists can be found here! 💜

Remember this game? I'm bringing it back!

MERRY CHRISTMAS LET'S LOOK AT BEAUTIFUL MEN

♡ Fort Thitipong as Mahasamut (Love Sea)

I wrote a whole post about how badly I wanted to eat this man with a spoon and how stupidly fucking attractive he is because I could not keep it to myself. I WANT TO EAT EVERY LAST BEEFY GOLDEN INCH OF HIM AND THEN I WANNA DO IT AGAIN!

♡ Furuya Robin as Takashi (Love is Better the Second Time Around)

I see Hiro. I understand Hiro. If this man made this face at me, I would also go have a really good shower.

♡ Ngern Anupart as Arthit (Fourever You)

THEY MADE HIM A FOOTBALL PLAYER AND COVERED HIM IN TATTOOS I NEED PART 2 LIKE I NEED AIR *SCREAMS INTO A PILLOW*

♡ Great Sapol as Yoryak (Wandee Goodday)

He's my blog header and blog title for a reason. Putting this beautiful giant ass man in bunny ears and a tail was a gift *specifically* for me. A gift for which I am eternally grateful, bless you thank you P'Golf.

♡ Mark Sorntast as Pie (Battle of the Writers)

I would like to once again thank the cameraman for this very slow pan up Mark's body and I would also like to thank whoever decided that Pie should strip for Ozone because they really blessed us all.

♡ Top Piyawat as Namping/Sian (Every You, Every Me)

I want them both in very different ways which, once again, all the credit in the world to Top both for Looking Like That and for having the skill to portray these two characters so differently.

♡ Pond Ponlawit as Hill (Fourever You)

I don't ever not want Pond carnally when he is on my screen. He was also great and attractive as Third in Century of Love but he didn't get enough screen time and also they didn't show him to us like this:

♡ Joong Archen as Fadel (The Heart Killers)

Style's just like me fr because I would absolutely RUIN my life for this man. I would ruin several lives for this man. I'd beg, borrow, and steal for this man.

♡ Frank Thanatsaran as Atom (The Rebound)

Atom is too sweet and too good and too damn fine not to have gotten his happy ending. I would do so right by him. He'd get a happy ending and then some.

♡ Nagumo Shoma as Arashi (Love in the Air Koi)

No one has ever been more perfectly cast in anything ever than this man. Shoma was made to be the Japanese version of Payu. The daddy dom energy just drips off of him. AND THAT SHOT OF HIS BACK? STILL NOT OVER IT.

♡ Big Thanakorn as God (Monster Next Door)

He's just so unfair. The sweetest, greenest flag of a man ever and built like a goddamn tree it's NOT FAIR!

♡ Lin Chia Yo as Johnathan (See Your Love)

Peace and love to Xin Jia he's just a baby gangster trying his best but I would NEVER let Johnathan leave that bed whether I remembered how we got there or not. NEVER.

♡ Sailub Hemmawich as Oab (This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans)

The long pretty eyelashes and the fuck me eyes and that body I just--ONE CHANCE JUST GIVE ME ONE CHANCE OAB PLEASE

♡ Yin Anan as Jack (Jack & Joker)

HE HAS A NECKLACE OF MOLES AROUND HIS NECK! HE HAS A MOLE JUST BENEATH HIS SHOULDER BLADE! DO YOU GET IT DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

♡ Jaonine Jiraphat as Latte (Knock Knock Boys)

Of course he's on this list. Do you know how many of his gym thirst traps I've posted on this blog since this show aired? I would like to personally and very sincerely thank whoever styled Jaonine in this show.

♡ Max Kornthas as Tai (Two Worlds)

I'd get distracted too if he was looking at me like this while I drew him. Doesn't matter which version of him it was, I would let him do anything to me and if it was the scarface version, I could fix him.

♡ Poom Phuripan as Joe (My Stand-In)

The way I would give Joe anything he wanted just to see that beautiful face smiling up at me. Congrats to Ming for being rich and everything but he could never treat Joe as right as I could. I would babygirlify that man to within an inch of his life just like he deserves.

♡ Honorable Mentions ♡

I am going to break my own rules a little bit because this is my list and I can so I'm going to include:

Kevin Chang as Ever4 (Eternal Butler)

Like I know the show just started and thus doesn't meet my criteria but I can't NOT include our new favorite daddy dom robot butler because...

...reasons. If I do a list like this for next year, best believe he's gonna be on it again.

Nike Nitidon as In (180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us)

This breaks my rules even more but I watched this show for the first time like a week ago and it immediately landed itself on my list of favorite BLs ever because everything about it is like heroin to me and I NEED this man to be in another BL so desperately like you don't understand giVE HIM BACK TO ME.

[2crtz]

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ THE FALL INTO HIS HEART .

WARNINGS: light nsfw thoughts, brushing of the hand (wink), arranged marriage, haters to slightly friendly strangers. this is mainly fluff. CHARACTERS: capitano x f!readers SYNOPSIS: the tsaritsa ordered capitano to take your hand in marriage despite his better judgement. one day in the garden ignited a new version of you, and capitano found himself at the window, watching you look serene under the sunlight.  WORD COUNT: 1.439 A/N: this is my first post on this account and hope i don't disappoint. i love capitano and i want to write more of him (…and other genshin men). part two is out!

Capitano never agreed to an arranged marriage, however, whatever the Tsaritsa orders him, he obliges without protest. 

His first glance into your eyes ignited flames within his veins. If a look could kill, you would have fallen dead at his feet. You never agreed to this predicament, but you could not refuse your parents' wishes no matter how you deny.

The wedding was not one to write down. For the guests, yes, it was a magical day, but when it was time to finally retire in your new home, there was a cold, distant silence between you and your new husband. 

Since meeting Capitano, not a word had been said between the two of you. A foreboding feeling captured your senses, worried about if you had to preform that night, but Capitano did not make the impression he was interested in consummating the marriage.

He ended the night by not sharing another gaze and left to his separate chambers.  

You could finally breathe freely for the first time that day.

────

A month has passed of being married and there has been no improvement in your relationship. Most days are silent, while others, only a few words were spoken.

When Capitano does speak, a trace of malice taints his tone, you found yourself scared. 

Hearing his footsteps approach you made your blood run cold, the armor clanking causing you to flinch, and his low, stoic tone has you frozen in place. He has never given you a reason to hate him, but he shows himself as a person who shouldn't be trifled with.

The tales you've heard about the Harbinger could stir fear in anyone who have dared their ears to know the horrors he's caused. 

This marriage was a forced one, and one you wished was a nightmare you longed to free yourself from. 

Maybe, one day, you will wake up.

────

Capitano's office sat in the far end of the manor, away from your chambers. In there placed a grand window overlooking the green, lush gardens where he could look out at when the orders of the Tsaritsa are irritating.

Today was one of those days.

The towering man stood before the window, his gaze sweeping over the vibrant blooms and the sunlit waters shimmering like liquid gold. Yet today, the scene held a view, poised within the landscape of his vision, an unfamiliar change in the shades of green, one that belonged to you.

Stood there, in the purest shades of white, a gown that fitted loosely on your frame, looking breathtakingly serene.

Unaware of his eyes, standing there with not a care in the world, not knowing anyone is watching, you were unapologetically being you.

Capitano's head screamed to look away, to leave you be, but his eyes betrayed him. They were glued onto the image. It's like a reenactment of a live painting in front of him.

You were like a jewel, unearthed from beneath the surface that sparkled from the hitting sun for the first time. A sight he thought he could never experience in his lifetime. 

Watching you was a sight that Capitano continued to watch even after telling himself that he should stop, but he needed it. It was like a shot of heroin. He craved for you, watching you, seeing you in a light he never thought he would.

It's been weeks and he had yet to stop, and didn't plan to. Even if he didn't mutter a word to you for weeks, the silence was overshadowed by this new habit. A new secret was curated within weeks.

A secret of watching his wife.

He had never set foot onto the garden-- until now.

As he watched your movements, he noticed an odd limp in your steps. Making a mental note of it, he heard a thump followed by a wail. 

His spine straightened.

You were nowhere in sight.

Capitano's eyes moved rapidly across the garden to find you, his pulse quickening by the second, but he couldn't. He stepped out of his office and walked purposefully towards the garden.

His movements were sharp, yet his thoughts raced despite his better judgement. Capitano swiftly moved through the hedges, his sword cutting through the thick bushes. The ground beneath his feet was soft, littered with stones that could cause a limp from walking of them barefoot. It could be easy to trip over one, and once realizing that, Capitano's search became more frantic.

He first heard a soft whine followed by feet coming into view. 

"Gods--" He muttered as he came by your side, inspecting your condition.

"I think--" You swallowed between words from the pain shooting from your foot. "my ankle."

Capitano's eyes lowered to your swollen ankle, his brows furrowing with concern. Slowly, he bent down onto his knees beside you, his hand gently grabbed your foot.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly light. There was no hatred or spite, only a voice that you could relax in. It was unfamiliar, but comforting.

The touch was soft, and his demeanor grew tender. It was the first time you saw this side of him he tried to conceal. Even through your teary eyes and blurred vision, you saw the part of him he tried to keep hidden.

Your ankle was swollen and most likely sprained. Even from his light touch, you winced from the pain.

"I-I'm fine, I swear." you murmured, trying to not burden him more than you've already have, but he quickly dismissed it.

Capitano looped his arm under your knees and gathered you in his arms with ease.

"My wife is injured, and as your husband, it is my duty to be by your side. In sickness and in health."

The way he said it was like he was just repeating the vows he made, but to you, it was reassurance. This was his way of telling you that no matter the hardships or trials in your marriage, he remains by your side.

"Thank you." you whispered.

He only nodded and carried you off to your chambers.

────

Your husband carefully wrapped your ankle and elevated it to ease the swelling.

"You are not allowed to move from this bed unless told to. Should you need assistance, ring this bell and I will come." He held up the brass bell before placing it on your bedside table, softly clinking as it settled into place.

As he turned to exit your room, you quickly grabbed the bell and rang it.

Almost instantly, Capitano turned around.

"My dress is stained with dirt." your tone was low and quiet, laced with embarrassment that you were not capable of walking over to your dresser to collect fresh new clothes.

Understanding your unspoken request, Capitano walked towards your drawers and opened each one to find your nightgowns.

"Second to last drawer." Seeing him rummage through the articles of clothing was slightly humorous to you, it tugged the corner of your lips.

Following your instructions, he finally found a gown he liked and walked to you. "Will this do?" he asked, tone still low and even.

You nodded, reaching out to grab it, your fingers brushing his.

"Do you require any assistance with clothing yourself?" Even though it was an innocent question, your face began to heat up. Unbeknownst to Capitano, you didn't wear any undergarments beneath a nightgown.

If he pulled your dress up slightly, you would become vulnerable. From that thought alone, of your husband seeing you nude, caused your nipples to harden.

Capitano's gaze lowered slightly to see harden peaks appear through the thin fabric. Thankfully, his helmet hid his eyes.

"No," You quickly shielded your chest. "I can manage."

Like clockwork, Capitano nodded and exited your chambers without sparing another word.

As Capitano entered his office, he could finally breathe properly. After the scene he had witnessed, it became difficult for him to get air in his lungs.

Your breasts were on the forefront of his mind. The stiffened nubs were begging for his touch, taunting him that it'll be something he could only do in his wildest dreams.

The frustration ate him alive. If he could, he would go back into your room and show you what more he can do for you.

Hot and moist air filling the room, slapping noises, your moaning and pleads hitting his ears, he would do anything to sink himself deep inside your folds.

With those thoughts flooding his mind, he felt ashamed that he was taking advantage of you in his head. It was an absurd fantasy that he knows will never happen.

Only in his dreams.

do not modify, edit, or republish.

[wardensantoineandevka]

I won't get around to writing a properly developed post on it, but speaking generally and assuming broad good faith, I personally think the anachronism in Veilguard is fine. I know it's a deeply held bit of style for a lot of people, and many hold the directive about no anachronism as important to things feeling properly Dragon Age.

Personally, I never felt it THAT important. I roll my eyes at nitpicking about historically accurate costuming too, and I pause to wonder what IS "anachronism" in fantasy. I think a lot of the style of the games leaned so hard on it that, in some places, it was a substituting this rule in place of developing stronger individual style or voice. I love this series, but I don't feel like characters (notably once you got past core cast), locations, etc. always and consistently had a strong sense of voice, both in terms of diction but also in visual direction. I feel like even the music gets this a little bit, since Veilguard feels more musically interesting to me than many of the prior tracks because, I think, the soundtrack is allowed to feel a little less like vaguely European medieval heroic fantasy.

There's always been anachronism, but I think the strict reliance on adhering to a particular conception of what A Fantasy Story looks and sounds like really hampered, at least for me, the development of style identity. Veilguard's voice and style broke from that in a way that did feel successfully more specific and striking for the story and characters it's trying to dress. I think being released from this directive does—because there's no longer what we bring ourselves to the table from our familiarity with the genre and pattern recognition—however, magnify flaws in how Bioware always has treated the setting as just the backdrop against which these dramas play out. But that's outside the scope of my thoughts here. I'll just summarize that with: that's a consistent Bioware problem, and I don't think it's inherently wrong to approach worldbuilding as merely dressing the set for your story, though perhaps that isn't always the most successful approach here and I know many fans are very invested in the setting itself and its development, so that would put us all at cross purposes.

Don't get me wrong. There IS a place for that sort of directive, a rule against things that scan too modern. But then, I think for it to work, you have to have a very firm idea of your own voice, of your individual style and direction working with that directive, and frankly, I don't think Bioware EVER really had a super strong grasp of it here.

I do think the character design especially, character voice, and visual identity suffered SO much in many earlier instances because of this directive. Meanwhile, I think it's interesting and striking to have things like, for example, Neve clearly drawing from film noir and how that informs how I approach and think about her as a character and how appropriate it feels that Lucanis and Illario end on the stage of an opera house. I feel like being released from having to worry about anachronism has, for me, produced some of the strongest instances of style and voice in the series in a long time.

And I know a lot of people feel the OPPOSITE, which is a matter of personal experience and taste, but for my own, it always felt like the series was weighed down by a notion of needing to properly emulate The Genre. (We've all looked at the infamous browns and muds of Origins, a game I am fond of. This is why it looks and sounds like that, in my opinion.) This fear of being too anachronistic or too modern often left the series not really feeling, to me, like it's really had a firm sense or idea of what its style or voice was, of what made it sound or look like itself, because it was always afraid of being too modern while also feeling afraid to not look enough like a heroic epic fantasy.

I think getting rid of that and no longer fearing it has done a lot for developing a stronger voice with a look, sound, and feel for Veilguard that feels more specific and conveys story and character so much better and more confidently. Because, in the end, that's supposed to be what this is all in service of: conveying character and story. I feel like Veilguard, in being released from this restriction, has developed a stronger voice with which to do it.

[holymolyfizzie]

i don't wanna derail @kityana's post about stolas's pill popping, so i'm making a separate one. but something kityana said finally made me think about something: "i'm still not sure if those pills are actually helping him or if they were just given to him to numb him to how shitty his life is"

I've wondered something related to this a lot myself. but Stolas takes his antidepressants with alcohol (and in the aftermath of alcohol, like at the end of The Circus), which is a depressant. taking antidepressants + alcohol at best just cancels out your antidepressants so they don't actually do anything. but both at once, at worst, makes your depression symptoms a lot worse. taking them together is the sort of stuff that college girls get yelled at for, but i guess no one told stolas. i wouldn't be surprised if he's been popping them like candy and upping his dosage because he was told they would help him…and then they don't because of the rampant alcoholism. which is to say that we don't know if the meds even worked for him at all (i'd argue strongly they didn't, considering his alcoholism only ever got worse and he kept taking more and more pills, like they never worked enough) or if they were a placebo while he was taking them

and this might be a bit too nuanced for such a show, but as someone who has suddenly gotten off antidepressants that didn't work at all, the withdrawal symptoms don't always affect mood that much (they did nothing for it to begin with) and they sure as hell don't last a full month after getting off. in fact, going cold turkey off of meds that do work for you shouldn't have withdrawal symptoms that last a full month (if you do, it's a Talk to Your Doctor moment). i just really wonder if Stolas noticed the lack of antidepressants after the first few days beyond the old habit of taking them, and if we really can contribute much of his mental breakdown to getting off antidepressants

but you know what he was taking religiously, that did affect him for sure, and that we haven't seen him touch in a month now? the alcohol. he was drinking during Mastermind, but he clearly hasn't touched it since the trial. Blitz doesn't seem to have alcohol around, and Stolas wouldn't ask for the extra expense -- he's being forced to quit. he passes up Loona's beelzejuice at the Sinsmas party, noticeably. the beelzejuice is brought in, and Stolas immediately goes outside for a smoke instead. he's not drinking anymore. and quitting alcohol cold turkey is an insane process, esp at his level of hard liquor. we're talking about disastrous health consequences and a whole host of withdrawal symptoms -- anxiety, depression, irritability, fatigue, loss of appetite, brain fog, hallucinations, and much worse stuff (in humans, seizures). it's impossible to underestimate the severe damage alcoholism does to your brain and body longterm. and a lot of those withdrawal symptoms stay weeks after stopping cold turkey

like, i don't want to detract from him going off of antidepressants; he needs and obviously wants working antidepressants, he's desperate for them. but i'm gonna be so for real, i've had my experiences going off ineffective antidepressants, and i've watched family members try to quit alcohol. an alcoholic quitting is a brutal, drawn out process that shakes me to my core. there are reasons a person still says "i am an alcoholic" even a decade after quitting. that shit's insidious in a way that antidepressants aren't, and it was affecting stolas noticeably more, surely enough to render his meds useless. if you want him back on antidepressants, then you need a sober Stolas first, and this is what he's FINALLY working on

so i think more emphasis needs to be placed on Stolas's recovery from alcoholism when discussing his mental breakdown, irritability, etc. the fact that he's doing this without rehab or other interventions is miraculous, nearly impossible. i don't want his impressive recovery (so far) from alcoholism to end up getting buried under the antidepressant talk ngl, especially when his getting off of alcohol now means that his antidepressants may actually work in the future and help him. this is something to be so so proud of!!

[endearng]

Home

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Summary: Emily always comes home to a nice surprise. WC: 1k Warnings: A little suggestive by the end but that's it :) A/N: This is my first time writing for Ems!!! Can you guys tell that I have a thing for 'coming home'? lol This has been sitting on my drafts for the longest time, so I figured I'd post it. Hope you guys enjoy it! :)

| masterlist

You'd gotten a call from your girlfriend, Emily Prentiss, telling you she was coming home that night. You felt instantly better, because the week had treated you very poorly, having dealt with major mistakes from people at work to having a flat tire mid-way home. Even through the phone, her cheerful tone was contagious to you, making happiness pump through your very bloodstream. You knew she worked really hard and other problems were probably one of the last things she needed to think about once she got home. So, you always went out of your way to make sure she felt welcome when she got back from her cases, so tonight it wouldn't be different.

Well, tonight would be very different. You decided you would propose to her as soon as she got home. You've spent some fair share of your time thinking about it and it made perfect sense. The two of you were together for three years now, and since you moved in together to a new apartment, which was now yours, you had no doubts that she was the love of your life. The one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Emily gave you all the safety you could possibly long for in a relationship, not to mention that she was the most loving partner ever. Her absences made you feel incomplete, but seeing her come back to you made your heart flutter every time like it was the first.

On the way back home, you got flowers — daisies, to be more specific, a personal favorite of yours and Emily's. Once you entered your apartment, you tidied up the place and cooked her favorite dish as you listened to one of your favorite albums, all the while thinking about how it'd feel to see her, to be in each other's embrace again, how would she react... You weren't nervous, of course, you knew she loved you just the same, but what if she wasn't ready to get married? What if she wasn't there yet? What if she didn't want to marry you? The thought made you shudder.

When you finished your cooking, you got ready by dressing yourself in one of her favorites looks on you, a set of pajamas that clung to your body — you felt comfortable, the cotton material against your skin felt great, but Emily's hands on you when she first saw you in that set felt heavenly.

You smiled to yourself, already anticipating her reaction.

You sat on your couch, mindlessly scrolling on your phone and answering a few texts from your friends and family, desperately trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling inside you. You were watching a puppy video when you heard the door unlock, which made you dash to the door in an instant, "Emily, my darling! You're home!" You said, throwing yourself into her arms. She grinned softly, thinking that she'd never get used to you, let alone to how you reacted everytime she got home. It was so nice being safe and feeling loved and wanted.

"I missed you, my girl," she said when you slightly pulled away from her arms. Both of her hands carressed your cheeks and traveled to the sides of your neck, thumb gently ghosting over your earlobes. Her gaze was intensely fixed on yours and you could feel the love in those beautiful, black eyes. After silently admiring you for some time, for her eyes expressed something that words failed to, she captured your lips in a kiss that told you just how much she had, indeed, missed you. Her kisses always made you feel like the luckiest woman in the world, not only because you had her attention solely on you, but also because you were the one who truly held her heart in your hands. "I'm sorry I took so long, my girl, but I'm here." Another passionate kiss. "I'm home."

"That's what matters." You mumbled, lips pressed to her cheek. She smiled.

"That," she chuckled, "and the fact that you're always waiting for me. Coming home to a house without you in it makes no sense to me anymore."

You chuckled, absolutely delighted by the effect you had on your girlfriend. Soon to be… "I have a surprise for you."

Placing her hands on your waist, she chuckled, "That's sweet, darling. But I don't think it's as nice as mine."

You laced your hands together at the back of her neck, asking while grinning stupidly, "You have a surprise for me, Em?" To which she nodded. "Okay. We can both surprise each other on the count of three."

“Okay."

Deep breaths. She loves you. Be brave. "One, two, three—Will you marry me?"

As you finished the countdown and blurted the sentence nervously, Emily was down on one knee, having let go of your waist at breakneck speed once you said the word "three" and pulling a ring box from her pocket. You gasped and Emily's mouth hung agape, like a fish out of water.

Once the surprise of the moment washed away slightly, you burst out laughing with pure bliss, soon joined by your now fiancé — if her being down on one knee and holding out a ring for you meant anything, it definitely meant that she would, in fact, marry you. You got down on your knees to hold her in your arms, relishing in the moment of sheer joy between you two. Your heart felt safe and complete and everything was because of the woman who held you in her arms and carried you so dear and near to her own heart.

"I love you." You muttered, kissing the top of her head, voice slightly muffled by her hair.

"I love you, darling. So much. I... I can't believe we're gonna get married." She said, breaking in the biggest grin you've ever seen on her face.

“I can't believe you said yes." You smiled.

"Technically, I didn't..."

"Shut up, Prentiss."

She pinched your chin, smiling devilishly. "In a few months, I'm gonna be saying that to you, too.” She quipped. “Now, come on. Let's see you out of those pajamas, hm?”

[sleepynoons]

SANTA TELL ME BY ARIANA GRANDE – sunday (hsr) x f!reader, guardian angel!au + college!au, sfw

genre – fluff, angst word count – ~2,700 warnings – explicit language synopsis – to put it quite simply, you have horrible taste in men. you're more than aware of it, so this year, you really, really, really want santa to hear you out because god definitely hasn't. but what you don't know is that someone does love you very dearly – you just can't see him.

Sunday ought to change positions. In fact, his sister, Robin, had notified him of an opening two weeks ago, no doubt confidential information that still somehow made its way through the Department, and he really should have brought it up with his manager. But more than likely, the position has already been taken, and even if it was not, no one gets to transfer at such a dire time in the year.

Holidays are what the Department calls “High Risk Periods.” In other words, during these trying times, humans are more prone to injuring themselves, usually from their own idiocy and recklessness, and that means Sunday and his guardian angel colleagues have to work overtime to prevent any major accidents or incidents, unless instructed otherwise in the Book of Fates. After all, humans seem to have found a plethora of ways to amuse themselves – getting drunk till they black out, doing parkour across the roofs of buildings dozens of floors tall, having disastrous sociopolitical conversations at the dinner table that devolve into screaming matches, the list goes on. Robin says she finds them entertaining, while Sunday constantly wonders why he was assigned to the Department in the first place.

Regardless, there is one truth about humans that Sunday wholly believes in. Out of all the humans he has been assigned to, you, especially, are stupid.

–

For the first time in weeks, your phone’s silent. No texts, no phone calls – not even a single email notification! Even your college seems to have decided to leave you alone when you least want it to. You lift your head, taking one last peek at your screen, and wail in disappointment and sadness despite knowing nothing will have changed within the second since your last glance.

Your girl friend grunts in response. She’s been sitting beside you in your room for the past few hours, having fallen victim to your post-breakup breakdown.

You yell into your pillow. “Why isn’t he reaching back out!”

“Because he’s a man,” she deadpans. 

You flip over so that you’re lying on your bed, face staring up at the ceiling, before letting out a pathetic moan again.

With teary eyes and trembling lips, you choke out, “I really thought he was the one.”

Bewildered, your friend drops her phone onto the floor. “What in the fuck are you saying, darling.”

“No, really! He’s so sweet and has this impish smile –“

“Sweetheart, you’ve been reading too many YA novels. No one fucking calls a smile ‘impish.’”

“– and he always bought me flowers when I least expected it.”

You release a dreamy sigh, with a slight undertone of frustration and envy. Since you started college three years ago, you haven’t really had any luck with long-lasting relationships. In your defense, first year’s meant to be spent frolicking, meeting different potential partners, and not really holding any expectations. Second year’s when you’re supposed to start settling down and finding an actual boyfriend, but sometimes, you just don’t meet someone who clicks. Unfortunately, even though you’re already halfway through your third year now, your misfortune seems to be nowhere near ending.

But you’re really trying! During the school year, you made sure to do your makeup and wear cute sets to class every day. You even got a new perfume – a little sweet, a lot more floral – to make sure your presence was known and committed to memory, and the new hair oil you rubbed through the ends of your hair had been giving you that extra healthy sheen and glow. And to your best judgment, your personality isn’t that bad either.

Your girl friend knows what you’re thinking by the downturn of your mouth. “It’s not you, love. You just don’t have the best… eye for men.”

“But aren’t you supposed to date men who can at least do the bare minimum?” The more you think about your now ex, the more you want to shrivel in a corner and question yourself. After all, you were hoping to spend all winter break long with your ex, but now you’re totally, completely, definitely alone for the holidays.

Your friend scooches over to the head of the bed and pats your arm with gentle thumps of her palm. “Yes, but they have to be consistent, too. Your ex may have been nice, but only sometimes. Remember how he forgot about your dates and always showed up late? Or that time you asked him to get painkillers, but he totally forgot because he went to the gym for four hours instead?”

You can only nod, unable to refute these instances of your ex’s incompetence. And by the knowing look on your girl friend’s face, it seems she has a laundry list more.

“I was just trying to give him the benefit of the doubt,” you mutter. You know you sound so naïve, but truly, you can’t help it. You don’t like it when others find fault in you, so you’re just doing the same for others – that’s the golden rule, right?

She gives you one final pat before standing up and stretching.

“Enough about this douche,” she says, with a sense of ultimatum to her tone. “Our Christmas party’s still happening, and who knows, maybe you’ll find a cute guy there.”

That’s true – at least there’s one good thing you can look forward to this winter break. You’re not returning home, so you’re celebrating Christmas with some other students who have also decided to stay on campus. You don’t know any of them, with the exception of your girl friend, well, so this party will be a good opportunity to meet someone new and outside of your usual circles.

Though you still feel sluggish, you do your best to follow your girl friend’s lead and drag yourself out of bed. When both of your feet are planted on the floor, you feel slightly more grounded. With a deep breath, you glance at your friend, and when the two of you lock eyes, for the first time since the breakup, you feel like there is a way up.

–

There’s another thing that humans do that Sunday finds incredibly odd: they never dress properly for the weather. Whether it be forgetting an umbrella or wearing shoes that’ll easily get soaked through by snow or dressing so bare and scantily in the dead of winter, Sunday simply cannot wrap his head around it.

He’s hovering above the edge of your bed as he watches you and your friend chatter about. He does not usually clock in at night out of respect for your privacy and space – which is, in reality, a moot point, since you do not know that he is there in the first place –, but you previously had a fiasco where you knocked over a glass cup in your drunken stupor and left a deep gash in your hand. That gash was not supposed to be there, and Sunday has learned his lesson to always supervise you when you are out and about, socializing and mingling and making out with strangers.

Sunday sighs as he watches you fidget with the end of your dress. As always, you seem to try to wear as little as possible when it is literally freezing outside. The ponds in your neighborhood have frozen over. The weather forecast reported an intense cold draft. Yet your jitters are not from the chill or wind – they are solely from your excitement. When your girl friend tells you to fold the dress up by another inch, to show off more of your arse, something in Sunday’s temple jumps unpleasantly. But of course, you nod enthusiastically in agreement, and he blocks his sight with his wings as you lean over your dresser in search of a safety pin.

Sunday knows your only singular goal tonight is to find another “catch of a guy” to satiate your needs. He wants to scream at you – to wear more? to keep it in your pants? something else? maybe all of the above? –, but guardian angels are forbidden from appearing or interacting with their humans. He also reminds himself that he is not your mother, so there is no need for him to worry over you when he does not need to. He should only be stressed if he has to intervene.

He sighs as he follows the two of you out of your apartment. He really hopes your idiotic antics will not cost too much of his patience, and if they do, he swears he will put in a transfer request next year.

It does not take long for you to find your prey for the night. You arrived at another student’s apartment where a small crowd had already gathered on the floor, all exchanging drinks in red plastic cups and hiccuping with veins full of vodka and whisky. You join, naturally finding a spot beside who you deem to be the cutest in the room, while Sunday miniaturizes himself so that he can sit on top of your head.

The room is so loud, and woody cologne, gingerbread, and hair spray do not go together. But what he hates most is the direction in which your conversation is headed.

“Never seen you around,” your prey comments with a flash of a toothy grin.

You hum and nod your head vigorously. “Yeah! That’s so odd, since we’re in the same year and all.”

“For sure,” he continues, tone already a little too bold for a pre-game, “I definitely wouldn’t forget a face as pretty as yours.”

Guardian angels are supposed to be ambivalent towards humans in general, but even that poor excuse of a pickup line wants Sunday to abort his job. But you still eat it up, and he feels his blood pressure rise.

The two of you continue to make small talk before the majority of the group decides to relocate to someone else’s unit, which is larger and has freshly baked brownies resting in the oven. But because this apartment is bigger, you and your partner manage to find yourselves a comfortable corner, distancing yourselves from everyone else to have more “privacy.”

You ask, “Why are you staying back on campus?”

With a shrug, he responds, “Flights are expensive. I was upset at first, but…”

You cock your head to the side, look up, and flutter your eyelashes. Sunday’s eyebrow quirks, but he is not sure if it is out of annoyance or something else. That is your signature move, your flawless routine to pull boys in, and he has seen it over and over again before.

“But… what?” you ask, voice shy yet tinged with coyness.

He shakes his head. He needs to remain calm, vigilant, and most importantly, neutral. As a result, he decides the best thing he can do is abandon his post as an eavesdropper and entertain himself with other matters. He stands up and flutters down to reach your shoulders. As he descends, he watches as one of your eyelashes falls to rest on the apple of your cheek. He would move it out of the way – obviously to assist your efforts in getting your prey, not that the guy has noticed it in the first place –, but he knows he cannot. He then observes your earrings. Although he tries, the metal does not reflect his person, and he does not understand why he reacts with a drop in his stomach.

Frustrated with all these questions and indeterminants, Sunday perches on your shoulder.

At some point, you excuse yourself for another drink. Sunday follows closely, occasionally intervening so that you do not bump into other crossed students and experience another catastrophe. However, once you get your cup of punch, instead of returning to your partner for the night, you head over to the bathroom. Sunday is not sure if he should join you, but there is a glint in your eyes, something that triggers his intuition that you are planning something reckless and most likely desperate, so he stays rooted to your shoulder.

And lo and behold, his intuition has never failed him, and it does not tonight either. You down the juice in one go, slap your cheeks with your hands quite forcefully, and look at yourself square in the mirror. Sunday wishes he could have slapped his hands over your mouth.

You say, with feverish determination and promise, “I will not screw up! I think he’s the one, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure we work out! It’s Christmas, too, so I should be extra lucky!”

Sunday cannot resist the urge to roll his eyes. It is more than obvious that that guy is only in for a good time, not a long time. This is why Sunday insists you are one of the stupidest humans he has ever had the misfortune to work with.

But whenever he explains how much of a lost cause you are to Robin, rather than believing him, his sister questions him instead.

“Are you sure, Brother?” she once asked.

“Yes, absolutely! How can one be so blind!” he proclaimed as the feathers of his wings ruffled with displeasure.

“Well, I think your human is just dense, and I find that quite adorable. Is it not?”

Sunday quieted immediately.

Even to this day, he chalks his failure to respond up to the sheer shock at his sister’s reaction. It is not surprising in that his sister finds a human adorable – many of his coworkers often express their never-ending fascination and curiosity towards human nature, behaviors, and quirks. Rather, it is unjustified to find your idiocy, your denseness, your ignorance cute, and that makes him seethe.

Now, though, he is not sure his original conclusion or feelings are right or appropriate. As you head back, a strong desire to prevent you from finding that man stirs within his gut. Of course, Sunday does not act on such unreasonable urges, but truly, he would be lying to himself if he said he was neutral when it came to matters concerning you. Again, perhaps he is just impatient, perhaps he does not want to deal with your grief-stricken self – especially when your state is caused by an inconsequential man’s actions –, perhaps he simply does not want to see you unhappy.

But neither of your wishes come true. 

You return to the living room, only to find your desired partner cozying up with another girl. Sunday can only watch, looking up as he sees tears, droplets so large relative to his miniature size, stream down the sides of your cheek and chin. When you are not looking, more occupied with scampering back to your apartment as quickly as possible, he catches one of your droplets in his hands, observing it as it hovers in front of him, still failing to show his reflection. He lets it go moments later, but how he wishes he could hold onto it for longer.

But more than that, he knows he would never make you cry like that. If only he was allowed, even one chance, to speak to you, knock some sense into you, demonstrate to you the treatment that you deserve. That way, you would learn your lesson, your true worth, and he would feel like he is actually doing his job as your guardian angel.

In the back of his mind, though, Sunday knows he would never actually feel satisfied – and that he will always worry over you, no matter what. After all, there is a reason why that rule is in place, and it is not to regulate humans. Indeed, humans are fickle creatures. Guardian angels, on the other hand, watch over a human from the time they are born to the day they die. This rule was created to keep the angels in check – to restrain their possession, greed, and lust from running amuck.

Robin is right. You are as downright adorable as you are clueless. But he did not want anyone else to find out, despite knowing there is nothing – nothing at all – that he can do about that.

winter event masterlist

[respectthepetty]

Dear Petty! If you’ve been keeping up with the tea: what is your latest assessment of the Joong/Est drama? Twitter is saying that Joong is hyping the beef because both he and Est have shows airing at the same time. It seems that Est stans (… 🤨) are also claiming talent superiority. And Joong has this pinned to his Twitter timeline:

Do you have the latest dish download?

Turtles!!!! Fun fact! TMZ is known for delivering celebrity gossip; however, on the bias scale, they fall nicely in the middle because the company doesn't have a clear bias, and the news source is actually pretty reliable. The reason the source doesn't score higher in reliability is because the writers try to analyze what they see instead of solely reporting what has been seen. I offer this tidbit because in the weeks since those "JoongDunk Divorce Era" posts on Twitter and Reddit, these basic facts have emerged:

Joong DID block Est. They both unfollowed each other on Instagram and Twitter, but Joong blocked Est. I will not TMZ this up and try to analyze why he did that, but the fact is he did and the youths have verified it.

The "divorce era" JoongDunk posts came in November, but people noticed the Est and Joong drama way back in SEPTEMBER because even at the beginning of October, everyone and their mama went to the ATEEZ concert and Joong and Est did not interact even though they were both there in the same vicinity with various GMMTV people like Mint, Neo, and Arm.

Daou went on the defense about the "Est is wrecking the DaouOffroad home" and posted several times about him and Offroad being fine when people tried telling him he needed to spend more time with Offroad.

A person actually questioned Dunk (if my memory is correct) about the incident where he hung out with Pond and Est while Joong was out of town during a fan meet. I know the post exists of the actual piece of paper with the question, but I cannot find it now! (Chismosa 101, Lesson #1 - Always get the screenshots!)

Joong went on his little trip with First and Khaotung sans Dunk

Joong and Dunk have stated they had a disagreement not just once

BUT TWICE!

And Joong said only they could fix it.

JASP.ER was announced where Joong will be working with Dunk's bestie, Pond, who also was at the infamous dinner with Dunk and Est and who the people ship with Dunk

Then Est went on record and stated he has a very small circle of friends and he is currently single because it's really hard for him to talk to people

Finally, Joong made a cameo on Est's currently airing show, ThamePo, which as far as I'm aware, Joong strangely did not promote. However, I don't have a Twitter account, so I could have missed it.

So now I will put on my TMZ cap:

As much as I want the fictional and real gays to lie, I think that this is the tea — Joong and Est got beef hence why Est was blocked and they aren't interacting. Sides were picked, problems arose from the way people operated (*cough* Dunk *cough*), and instead of GMMTV learning anything from the Tay and Gun kiss, the ongoing Joss bullshit, or ANY incident prior to this, GMMTV somehow didn't go full Adele's management team and pull these boys' social media or give them social media training, so here I am as a Jaidee fan first, and a human second enjoying the hell out of The Heart Killers and praying for Dare You to Death to get filmed just in case the separation sticks and my troublesome tykes divorce before the first gay marriage actually even happens in Thailand.

So yeah . . .

That's that on that!

[novantinuum]

Reformation ref sheet for an AU Steven (named "Astra") who's been invading my brain since like,, April. It's VERY wide, apologies. There's a lot going on here because this man is incredibly old and has poofed way too many times for varying reasons. (See This post for how I headcanon that Steven can poof and still be considered a hybrid being.)

While I will not talk in huge length about certain aspects of his AU on this blog due to some of it involving strong NSFW themes, there is a ridiculous amount of other lore I've developed over time for Astra, and I love him to death. He is my sad, lonely mans who I metaphorically hurl against the wall like a sticky hand when I need to feel something.

This version of Steven will likely never have any kind of full ass fic or comic made about him. Despite that, I do enjoy sharing some art and fun character lore for him from time to time. So, I might as well finally give followers like... literally ANY context for him. I've had this ref sheet for a while and just have never gotten around to throwing it on here, LOL.

Ridiculously long dump about my guy under the cut.

Subnote, this was supposed to be a quick post but I can't help myself and wrote you a fucking BOOK under the cut because I love my guy so much UWU

(Content warning I guess for like, extremely vague mentions of Steven/Steven later on.)

-

The huge tl;dr of Astra is as follows: he's a version of Steven who exists for SO long that he basically transforms into something of an ancient, lonely god.

He's outlived every single person he once knew as a child, and so as a result is starved for affection. At the same time, being vulnerable is the absolute scariest thing for him and he's really shit at navigating relationships, F.

The guy is THE most powerful living creature in his entire universe by the end, and yet remains a soft-spoken, (generally) benevolent soul. He dedicates himself to acting as caretaker for the vast, populous world he exists within, and to maintain the continuing legacy of Gemkind. A big discovery that occurs in this AU is that Gems are in fact susceptible to entropy over the span of millions of years and will eventually fall "inert," (but not him because of weird hybrid biology stuff he honestly sees as more of a curse than a blessing) so a huge plotline early on in Astra's lifespan is trying to either find a "cure" for this issue or to develop a means by which new generations of Gems can be created without the reinstatement of Kindergartens so Gemkind doesn't overtly go extinct.

-

But, to start... this Steven diverges off a point in canon- this is the timeline where he actually takes up the Diamonds on their offer of the throne in the movie, believing he may have a better chance of heralding true societal change working from the INSIDE rather than stepping away. Because he pours himself so thoroughly into his role on Homeworld and his mind is continuously occupied by this purpose, he never experiences the events SU: Future, nor does he develop his "pink mode" (yet...) or corrupt at all.

However, he's also so engrossed in his work that he's... kind of a shit boyfriend to Connie as years go on. (In that he's not terribly attentive... always super busy... their visits are often cut short, or few and far between.) Their relationship never really goes anywhere as a result, though Connie wants it to. To be fair so does Steven, but he's so scared that everything he's worked so hard to organize and set up in this new era will fall apart if he steps aside from his role for even a moment that he can't allow himself to follow that want.

At some point here he learns he can poof through a complete freak accident, and that's where things really begin to change in this timeline.

It takes a good few months for him to reform, but once he does he's back at it with all his work on Homeworld pretty quick.

The thing is... he doesn't have an innate physical need to eat or drink or sleep anymore, because he now consists of entirely hard light. It mimics human biology to an insane degree, so he COULD do all those things, but he doesn't need them to persist. So... he kinda takes this as an excuse to cut those activities out of his schedule entirely so he can spend more time focused on his duties as a diamond.

Connie is NOT a fan of this, and this leads to some debate and tension within their relationship. That being said, they remain an item...

Up until out of nowhere, Connie dies in an accident on Earth while Steven is off planet in a place where he doesn't have any contact with them for a few days. By the time the Gems are able to get in touch with him, it's far too late to resurrect her.

The kicker? In the autopsy it's discovered that she was a few weeks pregnant when she died.

Steven is emotionally gutted by this... and the thought of what could have been... and poofs.

The guy is understandably destroyed when he comes back in his next form, and his form reflects that- his gem flips as a sort of metaphorical severing from his own humanity.

He spends a long while in a deep depression at the loss of his childhood sweetheart... at the loss of any potential for (as far as he sees) a "normal" human life. There's a part of him that resents the choices he's made to end up in this present, but like, there's still work to be done.

And as the years move on, a LOT of that work is mitigating the growing relations (for better or for worse) between Gems and humans as humanity stretches their legs and reaches out into the stars. Humans kinda get... really aggressive in their expansion though, and quite territorial, and it leads towards some inevitable conflict between them and Gemkind. This time, with them more at fault. Things get so spicy that some groups of humans and Gems go to war.

Steven tries to mitigate one of these situations at the front lines- and gets poofed by a disgruntled Gem, speared straight through the back because she (kinda wrongly) assumed he would take the humans' side due to his ancestral ties to them.

When he reforms this time, he is glowing a perpetual pink. The Gems don't really know what to make of this, but he seems to be in perfectly fine health otherwise, so they assume it's just a normal aspect of this new neutral form.

And while this isn't something Steven has context to figure out until like... billions of years later, what's actually happened is that he's entered a permanent pink mode, pretty much. Guy's just got that much bottled up, unaddressed trauma.

He spends a long time in this form, and over all these thousands of years oversees the slow return to peace between Gems and humans... their marriage as a space age federation... and their deeper exploration of the galaxy. Beyond their home solar systems exist a bounty of alien species they've yet to meet... some friendly, some less so. There's definitely some conflict that crops up amidst the local galactic neighborhood when Gems and humans show up on the playing field here, lol.

But all-in-all, Steven develops a fairly peaceful and predictable routine during this reformation- living more like a Gem than ever before. He's still got the Crystal Gems at his side through all of this, and they are some of his greatest confidants.

And then... without any warning... Gems begin to go inert. Amethyst is among them.

Some of them simply stop reforming after they poof... especially those who were older Gems, or who have been cracked before. Steven and the other Diamonds using their powers together are able to "fix" this at first and "jumpstart" their reformation, but it's just a bandaid of a fix- these Gems will fall inert again pretty soon. And the longer they persist without poofing from alternate causes, the more unstable their form, power, and memory becomes. (Think of this as Gem dementia at its late stages,,, oof.)

The bottom line? Just like organics, Gems aren't immune to the forces of entropy. Sooner or later, their gemstones will decay from the inside out. Stubborn to find a way to save the ones he loves as he watches them slowly deteriorate all around him, Steven dedicates himself to trying to find a cure. But deep down, a part of him recognizes the futility of this. What he believes Gemkind actually needs to do is to develop a means of rebooting Gem incubation that doesn't destroy planets, so they can rebuild their quickly dwindling population and keep their legacy alive.

The big problem with this is that Gems take a SHIT load of energy and resources to properly incubate, so that puzzle will take a long ass time to sort out. There's kinda a lot of chaos that happens during this time. The reality of their own blunt mortality freaks out a bunch of Gems, and Steven has to do damage control with the heads of state for a lot of other alien species.

In the interim, all the Crystal Gems and some of the Diamonds (White is still in the picture, though) end up falling inert. Pearl is the last of the CGs to do so.

Steven is understandably SUPER gutted about this, and poofs yet again. (Lol notice a theme? Poor mans keeps poofing from friggin' anguish. Help him.)

After reforming with barely any changes, it's right back to work for this guy. He and the rest of his team of researchers are unable to find any cure for Gems decaying and falling inert, but they do end up making huge leaps and bounds in other kinds of tech. One of these advances allows Steven to finally deep-scan his own gemstone down to the atomic level to check for decay- this was previously a process that was very invasive, and came at the risk of irreparably damaging a Gem, but not anymore.

He expects to find evidence of the same micro decay that's been slowly eating away at the rest of Gemkind within his OWN diamond, but the thing is...

He just... ISN'T decaying at all? Even though the sheer age of this gemstone itself should suggest otherwise? As it turns out though, his existence as a hybridized being makes him kind of... an anomaly. When he first reformed all those thousands of years ago, all the data within his gem- data that would otherwise be susceptible to decay- was translated into genetic material. DNA that's woven entirely out of hard-light... but, DNA that has also been constantly regenerating itself thanks to a combination of all the intricate biochemistry surrounding the human telomere and his healing powers.

In other words, he is incapable of falling inert from natural causes, like micro decay. He's functionally immortal. Unless someone shatters him (or... heaven forbid... he shatters himself) he simply can't die.

Which, all of a sudden, makes his race to save Gemkind from their quickly approaching extinction all the more personal. Because if he FAILS- then he'll be the very last of Gemkind. There will be no one else left in this world who is even remotely like him. (Humanity has mixed and mingled with the galactic locals so much by now that they're very much unrecognizable from what they once were.)

His spirit is very nearly broken by this discovery, and he is severely tempted to throw all his own principles out the window and just sanction the construction of new Kindergartens again, if only to keep the dwindling Gem populations up and birth new generations. Perhaps surprisingly, it's White Diamond- the last Gem left who Steven actually knew since the very beginning- who urges him to reconsider. To not give up on his own morality, to not revert all the miraculous changes he's worked for these long few million years.

The big shift in the tides is when he discovers the means to jump to alternate timelines, and thus the existence of the greater multiverse. This allows him to gather intel and ideas from a far greater spectrum of sources.

And eventually... it's with the aid of many alt versions of himself from other lines across the multiverse that leads to him finding a suitable, eco-friendly solution to his Gem incubation problem. (This is the aspect of this AU I cannot discuss in length for discretion's sake. Use your imagination. Or don't, I don't care.)

The following two sections, I'll be talking more about the broad thematics than anything else. At this point, know that there are now new batches of Gems being created all the time. Gemkind is no longer at risk of any extinction, but now- like any stable organic species- new Gems are made at the same rate that they fall inert.

So, the BIGGEST thing here with this reformation is that this is overtly where this guy picks up the name "Astra." Why a name change? Well, after White finally went inert, leaving him the last Diamond in existence within this line, it basically just felt... upsetting to him, to continue to go by a name that every person he ever loved used for him. Thus, the new name is overtly a means to distance himself from that past, and from that pain. (It's also a name he chooses while thinking back to a meaningful conversation he had with White, back before she went inert, oOF. I'll probably yell about that at some point in another post.)

So, too, is the lack of any tangible facial features. He HAS a face, but others just can't see it. He subconsciously obscures it from almost everyone's sight as a means of avoiding vulnerability. One might also have noticed by now that this guy's proportions have gotten like, really strange and sorta "stretched out" over time the larger he becomes... and this is intentional, as it's yet another way he's just becoming more inhuman in form, yet another way he's internally separating himself from those humble human origins of his.

But here's the thing, though.

Deep, deep down, to be human and to live a simple human life is basically all he's ever craved. It's everything he feels he's lost forever, with the death of his Connie. And instead, he's kinda stuck in a hellish sunk cost fallacy of his own making, acting as eternal caretaker for this world that- no matter what he does to try and make it a better place- will never quite be PERFECT. Thus, in his mind, even though he's literally fixed Gemkind's BIGGEST problem, he can't Stop. He can't Rest. He simply can't allow himself himself to lay down and Sink Away into the unknown.

And even if he could allow himself to do so, he is so, so scared of walking that path alone.

If he's going to die... he wants that end to be at a lover's side.

How, though, is someone who's basically a god supposed to find anyone in this multiverse with experiences they can remotely relate to?

Well... ultimately, Astra finds that it's far, far easier to build up a close relationship with varying versions of himself than anyone else. He's... kinda trash at it, though. This guy has so much bottled up Gunk in his head and is so starved for any form of affection that he has a habit of throwing WAY too much of himself into the relationships he engages in, and expecting that same level of commitment in return. There's one relationship with an alt Steven he's in for a while that ends up pretty unhealthily co-dependent before it fizzles out, and then another where he assumes the individual is committing to this partnership for the long run, but then no... actually Astra was always pouring more into this dynamic than he was receiving in return.

This second relationship, when it ends, is pretty devastating to him- since it was one that lasted for like, a LONG ass time. Unimaginably long. We're talking billions of years, here.

Uh-oh! And now he's even more distanced from other people. Folks can't even parse his actual chosen name at this point- except he isn't really consciously aware of this for a while?? It's yet another silent cry for help, yet another internal defense mechanism specially intended to keep others from truly getting to know him. Because every time he does... stars. No matter what he does, he keeps getting hurt. Almost everyone he knows and loves is torn from his life eventually... if not by death, then by some form of tragedy... and he's just so, so tired.

He wants literally ANYTHING to change in his life. He craves some new form of purpose. He craves the attention of someone who might love him as passionately as he loves them.

For a while, he almost believes he's found that- in yet another close relationship he forges with an alt version of himself- but while this other Steven does care for him immensely, it's only as a friend. Which kinda kills Astra, because he's like, lost in the sauce levels of In Love with this guy. There's a LOOOOOOT of story I have here with this, oh my god. If I am thinking about this AU I am usually thinking about this Old Man Yaoi. The great bulk of it is very NSFW themed though, so y'all getting the cliff notes.

The MOST important thing to know though, is that Astra both makes intense leaps and strides in once again allowing himself to be vulnerable with this man, and ALSO kinda intensely fucks their whole mutually agreed situationship up. It's messy. I am crying and wailing at these two old dumbasses. Jesus fucking christ.

But then, it's in the aftermath of this whole deal that an individual named Orion comes into the picture.

Orion quite literally falls into Astra's world by complete accident, but it's a very lucky accident- because she is a diamond hybrid version of Connie from another universe who- beyond a few differences- has a strikingly similar history to his. The big difference, though? She never found a means to create new Gems without Kindergartens, so she was the last of just a few thousand Gems who existed in her entire line. Part of a deeply endangered species.

This version of Connie arrives in some very deep mental turmoil, and so Astra does his best to give them a stable home and a place to heal. And while a past version of him might've been tempted to throw way too much of himself into the slow building rapport they have, he's blessedly Learned a thing or two from the past few major relationship experiences he's had... and chooses to like, ease up. Just offer himself as a friend first and foremost, should they care for one. Man learns restraint, lol.

And it's a damn GOOD thing that he does, because out of the genuine friendship they foster, Orion is the one who ultimately falls in love with him first. The relationship that's established here is one that's balanced, a true partnership where they simply make each other better people. It's through Orion's encouragement that Astra eventually reconnects and makes up with that last person he had an intense relationship with, even.

In time, Astra truly grows to thrive with Orion in his life. He becomes a far more open, vulnerable person, someone who feels safe to truly exist as who he is, to bare every complicated, battered facet of his past to those he trusts. While he may have taken the LONG road to get here, he too heals. And as a result...

One day, Astra simply stops glowing entirely. Shrinks down to more reasonable proportions. He stops hovering around on automatic, stops subconsciously scrubbing the memory of his face or name from people's minds. He stops denying his truest, deepest self- the reality that he was born an organic being, and raised as a human.

The burred reality that all he's ever truly wanted since the day his first lover died is to be a father.

To live a quiet, simple life with the people he loves.

For so long it was a mirage of a future he thought he'd never chase down, but for how much he made all the wrong choices the first time around, now he has a second chance.

And so in my brain, that's exactly what happens. Astra and Orion start a family together and continue to act as guardians over this universe for many years to come, until- after they are satisfied with the long life they've lived together, and their children have moved on to start forging their own paths- they eventually pass Beyond at their own will in each other's arms, ending their impossibly long godhood at peace.

I really don't know how to end this post lmafo, so I will simply say: if you somehow read all of this, holy shit you are so brave. Thank you for engaging with my insane ramblings. Have a nice day LOL FUIHSNUFSJG

This man haunts my brain so much I missed two off ramp turns on the highway the other day while thinking about him. Help me.

[twig-tea]

2024 Tumblr Top 10

tagged by @lurkingshan here and @neuroticbookworm here, thank you both! This really reminds me that I need to do a real pinned post at some point.

If you want to generate your own, you can use this link! I used the link to find the posts but wrote this below because I thought reflecting on the posts would be fun.

My GL rec list (covering everything through to Feb 2024), which I'm very happy about taking first place. If you want GL recs, check that out first, and then feel free to browse my #GL recs tag.

The admittedly shady post from October calling out the director of the Addicted Heroin Thailand adaptation for (a)making weird choices and (b)defending them as artistic. But I stand by my anger about this. Censorship is not an aesthetic!

The non-novel-spoilery reaction post to episodes 1 & 2 of Love In The Big City which was also from October, but which honestly stands up for my reaction to the whole series. What a gift of a show.

A quick pitch for Akaya is in Love with Hiroko from July. This one hurts! I was so ready to cheerlead for this show and did several times, but the penultimate episode made me wary and the finale really upset me, to the point where I didn't end up writing about the finale, so I'll take the chance here: Don't make a show about two self-aware lesbians, one who has been comfortably sexually active for years and one who is super horny for her, and have them get together as adults and yet be celibate for a year out of "respect". Is the message that sex between consenting and enthusiastic adults is not respectful?! GTFO. For the record I can be respected with orgasms, thank you.

The episode celebrating the messaging in the finale of Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo from November. Glad that this is here between the previous entry and the next two, because this is a good balm for the pain. LFtCoT landed the ending and gave us all a giant hug while doing it!

The list of things I was thinking about at the end of Wandee Goodday ep3 from May. Another disappointment for me. The things this post shouts out are still things I like about this show, and reading it again is a reminder of where the back half let the first half down (not taking seriously some of the things we were told to take seriously in the first few episodes).

An early post about Love Is Better the Second Time Around from March. Another show that did not land everything, in this case because it felt like it tried to shove in a complicated conflict in the last two episodes that they didn't have time to handle. But I still love those early episodes and all of the interplay between Miyata, Iwanaga, and Shiraishi.

My clown theory for Every You, Every Me also from October, which ended up being correct! I've never been more happy to be right, I liked this reveal for the show so much.

In February I wrote this thesis about the state of Thai BL looking at data from 2022 and 2023, which I have been meaning to go back and update since I think Shan as usual was feeling the start of the wave and we needed more data to see the change actually play out in 2024. I now no longer feel (as I did in this post) that things haven't changed, I do think they have this year. But I need to crunch the numbers again to prove it to myself (and everyone else) though. Stay tuned!

In July I did a round-up post about the various theories surrounding Century of Love, and whether Vee and Vad were the same person. Turns out San did wrestle with this as I'd hoped but the show itself felt like it lost steam and copped out around this, unfortunately. At least we'll always have fox demon Offroad and grumpy old man Daou's collarbones thanks to this show.

Special shout-out to @lurkingshan because two of the posts above are answers to asks she put in my inbox that spawned project posts. Shan knows what the people want to hear!

Tagging @italianpersonwithashippersheart @benkaben @ellsieee @colourme-feral @pigglepiephi @impala124 no pressure tags and apologies if you've been tagged already!

[writingnekoo]

Odysseus' character analysis & how we overlook his trauma

Okay, this will be a long post about Odysseus and what could be happening in his head after his return to Ithaca because I really need to share these ideas <3

During the last few days I've been thinking about the whole Poseidon-obssesed-with-Odysseus concept (thanks to @rin-solo for inspiration :)), and that's how I recalled one headcanon of mine about Odysseus and his possible perception of his conflict with Poseidon.

A disclaimer first: I know that Epic is sometimes historically and culturally inaccurate, but! I want to include some of the cultural norms of ancient times because they will make things much more interesting.

So, since early August I've had an idea that Odysseus' personality during the post-Odyssey timeline would be heavily influenced by PTSD. That's just reasonable: the war takes its toll on the person anyway, especially on the warrior like Odysseus. He saw the nightmares of the Trojan War, lost his comrades and faced things that made him lose his sleep.

I actually like how Odysseus' trauma is depicted in Epic. We have these parts with the voices of Polites, Eurylochus and Anticlea and see just how much these losses affected Odysseus (take the ending of "Love in Paradise"). But instead of focusing on the losses like the musical does I'd rather talk about those who had caused them. It's a curious thing about the mentality of those who survived the war and similar events: their mind tends to demonize and hate those who caused pain deeply. It produces the ultimate hatred that is able to overcome any other feeling. This is the idea that I want to pursue in my Monster AU (might write about it later because that's another long talk) about the overwhelming feeling, produced by trauma, that can't be distinguished. And Odysseus is the only character in the story who has endured that twenty-year long nightmare: his comrades from the Trojan War didn't have the decade of journey back home behind their backs, and those who sailed with Odysseus died.

But there's one more layer to this scenario. While we've covered the idea about the war victim demonizing the aggressor, we can't forget that we're talking about the religious society of ancient times. Poseidon and Zeus are the two godly villains of Odysseus' story. However, they're also the god of the tides, who must've been one of the most widely worshiped in Ithaca (since it's an island... yeah), and the King of the gods.

That leaves Odysseus in an even more complex situation. Because he most likely highly respected both of them for his whole life. Eventually, they left Odysseus ruined. The people of Ithaca didn't stop worshipping them, and Odysseus has to follow the same religious rituals and celebrate annual festivities, which definitely reminds him of what had happened.

Once again, no one understands what he's gone through. Even Penelope and Telemachus, no matter how supportive they are. Thus, the trauma is left unseen and unhealed. Too bad there was no therapy in the ancient world, Odysseus would've needed it.

Finally, this whole set of reasons serves as a perfect background for deep and tragic obsession with those who hurt him and inability to let go of the past. Do the voices fall silent after Odysseus defeats all the enemies? No, they probably don't. Because even though physically Odysseus is already home, mentally, he's still fighting with the ghosts of his enemies. This is a desperate feeling that belongs to a broken man who no longer fits into society like he used to. And it eats him alive, kills him from the inside. No ruthlessness or bloodshed can help Odysseus to run from this despair. It fact, they might only make it worth by reminding who made him a monster! :)

Generally... this is pretty much it. The whole idea of all-consuming despair and trauma is what I've wanted to pursue here because I find it very natural in terms of everything that Odysseus has been through. I'd also like to analyze the whole Vengeance saga (especially my fav Six Hundred Strike) from this perspective because it actually makes perfect sense for me, but that's one more long post of another time lmao.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

i just came by this post and i had to address it.

wow. that is a controversial take. and an objectively incorrect one.

i'll just preface this by saying that i'm not satisfied with arcane's finale either. i think it completely went against its own message in the end, and a lot of the arcs were resolved poorly.

but this take is still wild. let me break it down one by one:

there's nothing wrong with the "power of love/friendship" trope. the only problem is that

1. spop entirely focuses on romantic relationships. fuck familial relationships, fuck platonic relationships, the only thing that matters is romance.

2. most of the ships are either forced with no prior buildup or straight-up toxic.

horde prime as a whole was a poorly written villain who was only introduced because catra and hordak were "redeemed". that alone makes the entire finale weak, because horde prime is not as much of a threat as catra was. he's just a placeholder.

i'm convinced that the only reason they introduced the failsafe and the heart of etheria was because horde prime wasn't intimidating enough to keep the audience captivated.

mara convincing adora to stay alive would have been a touching scene if the message wasn't that adora should date her abusive sister.

i'm sorry, did we watch the same show? because how the fuck can you say that catra is no longer abusive after her redemption after watching all of this???

oh yeah, catra pushing adora to the ground and guilt tripping her for trying to save the world wasn't abusive at all. catra constantly screaming at adora for the smallest reasons isn't abusive, that's just catra's little quirk! /s

you would have to be blind to watch all of these instances of catra continuing to abuse adora, and still think that she has changed.

caitlyn hit vi with her rifle, yes, and I'm not going to defend that at all. i agree that it was completely unwarranted, regardless of her reasons. but caitlyn's actions are nothing compared to catra's.

you can love or hate caitvi, i literally don't care. but you can't hate caitvi for being "toxic" while acting like c//a is a healthy ship.

“catra ceased all intentions of being enemies with adora & glimmer and learned to love & fight for etheria”

oh yeah, that's why she kept taking jabs at the princesses and bragging about how many times she has defeated them. that's why she never apologized to glimmer for killing her mother, or to mermista for colonizing her kingdom. oh wait, mermista was very conveniently chipped so that poor catra wouldn't have to deal with all that, right?

let's be real, the only reason catra sided with adora was because she literally had no other choice. she was backed into a corner. she wanted to work for horde prime but since he was willing to throw her out, and the original horde was in shambles, catra's only choice was to join the rebellion. she does not care for the princesses or for etheria.

“catradora never had a power imbalance and fought pretty equally”

this just made me laugh. did this person even watch the show? catra had power over adora 90% of the time.

there were very few instances where adora had power over catra and usually in those instances, catra would attack adora in some way to bring her beneath her.

again, i have my complaints with caitvi. i don't think it's a perfect ship and i'm not going to defend the shitty parts of it. but catra has literally used every single type of abuse on adora - physical violence, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, guilt tripping, kidnapping, attempted murder, victim blaming - and y'all still think that caitvi is worse? be fucking for real.

five seasons isn't enough screentime to wrap up arcs in a satisfactory manner? come on. spop had plenty of time, the writers just didn't plan everything out. they absolutely did not make the most of what they had to work with.

they had 5 whole seasons and still decided to shove catra's redemption arc into the final one, completely rushing it and for what? so that adora had someone to smooch?

the conflict between glimmer and adora could also have been handled better. it was a complex situation, especially considering how catra and shadow weaver was the ones driving them apart. it shouldn't have been solved with a simple “i'm sorry, everything was my fault” and “lol it's okay we good now” like???

again, i'm dissatisfied with arcane's ending. i think a lot of the character arcs were sabotaged and there was too much going on in general.

but i don't think anything can compare to the character assassination in s5 of spop. everyone magically forgot about catra's crimes and forgave her; capable characters were suddenly incompetent and foolish so that catra could shine; and adora, who had completely moved on from catra, was now once again catra's doormat.

you can criticize arcane if you want but this post was just stupid. spop's final season was just as bad, if not worse than arcane. at least arcane managed to write a believable redemption arc for jinx within those 9 episodes - something spop couldn't do with five whole seasons.

[lenciquest]

๑｡‿♡⁠˖༚⑅  Imagine your f/o helping you get ready in the morning <3

It doesn't matter if it's for some occasion, like you getting sick because of the winter cold, or working yourself really thin the day before, or just because they've gotten up earlier than you and felt like it, they never mind doing something nice for you to just take a bit of weight off your back. Imagine being woken up, feeling them gently shaking you by the shoulder, only for your sleepy grumbles to be met with a soft peck on your nose, which soon is followed by another one, and another.. You are never able to get angry at them, even if you're usually feeling really fussy about getting up early in the morning. :)

When you get up and go to the bathroom to wash up and brush your teeth, be certain that when you return your shared or separate bed will be made neatly, and coming into the kitchen to make yourself something to eat, you would see that everything is already prepped nicely just for you!! The table is already served, with your favorite meal laid out on your plate and a cup of your favorite drink. Even if you headcanon your f/o to not be the best cook in the world, every meal made with love tastes heavenly nonetheless! They'll sit beside you on the dining table, maybe listening to you talk about what you've dreamed about tonight and what your plans for the day are, and if you're not a whole lot talkative in the morning they will tell you something themselves or simply keep you company. With them, you never feel awkward talking about something as mundane as weather outside or just sitting in silence, basking into each other's presence (⁠/⁠^⁠-⁠^⁠(⁠^⁠ ⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠/

They'll trail behind you into your wardrobe too, if you'd let them. You will seek out options of what you'd like to wear for the day from the closet, laying them on the bed, and maybe they'll get really into the role of your personal stylist, tell you what would look the best on you because of the color or pattern. Or perhaps they'd mostly nag you about dressing warmer for the sake of your health and their nerves, and if they're usually the whole rough and tough type of character, they'll get all blushy if you tease them a bit for getting worried about you :3

They'll of course be eager to help you do your hair! Whether you prefer to wear it down styled some way, braiding it, and even if you wish to make something as basic as a ponytail, which doesn't take a lot of labour, they would be happy to just brush your hair, being sooooo very gentle about it, never daring to go as far as making a movement too sharp, scared to hurt you by tugging your hair.

When you're all done, you give them a twirl, showing off. If you would have done as much as looked up into their face in the mirror, you'd see them stare at you gleefully with admiration. It has been a while since you've felt so genuinely full of energy, and it is all thanks to them! ♡♡♡

a/n: does anyone ever even read these? the fact that I've come here from ficbook and ao3 really freaking shows, because as I've said before I CANNOT for the life of me write something shorter than 3 whole paragraphs of pure bs... self-indulgent again sorry everynyan, hope you still enjoy :33p alsow I should probs post and introduction atp

tagzzz

[silvertidescribbles]

Sweet Thing

“You made me listen kitten, to those cries, after flirting with me all day.”

Approx. 6.3k words

Pairing: Astarion x OC - See my little post about Alynea here. If you folks are curious to learn more about her, let me know :)

Content tags: MDNI, 18+ NSFW, smut, praise, begging, fingering, (mild) jealousy, depictions of blood/blood drinking.

A/N: Well, here I am posting smut ahah. Not a lot of context is needed, I've written it as much as I can into the fic itself. The vampire man has had a chokehold on me since the game came out, and I was compelled to write up one of my ideas of how he would go about seducing my tav while he's also struggling to keep his emotions separate :P.

Also, I have no idea how censorship works on here! Not entirely sure if this will get flagged in some way but oh well, such is part of learning. If you have the time and patience, feedback is appreciated <3 Is it strange to be nervous about posting smut? I don't know...

I hope this is enjoyable 😊

-Silver

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Astarion waited impatiently in his tent, flipping carelessly through the pages of the novel he’d snagged during the day’s expedition. Despite his efforts, he found the tale within lacked the substance he needed to distract himself. Hells, he needed a distraction from what was happening outside his tent. He was positively sick of hearing Gale and Alynea geek out over magic together and he insisted to himself that he couldn’t be the only one.

Gale had made a habit of sitting late into the night at the campfire with the pale woman, a sneaky grin shared between them as they spoke of Waterdeep. Her a sorcerer and him a wizard, the two had bonded far too quickly for Astarion’s tastes, especially once it became known that both had been apprentices at Blackstaff. Even with his efforts to flirt with her, Astarion found himself further from the elf than he wanted to be. Another giggle from Alynea floated from the campfire up into the night sky, making him roll his eyes in irritation. Just how long was she going to make him wait? After all, she had promised to come to him after the others had gone to their bedrolls to let him feed.

Peeking out from his tent, Astarion was witness to how Alynea snickered at Gale’s words as she swallowed another mouthful of wine. The firelight cast a warm glow over her features and melded with the cooler palette of her skin and hair while her silvery eyes glittered. Albinism, she had said when asked. It explained the lack of colour in her, why her eyes twitched painfully under the bright sun and why her hair shone as white as bone, her pale skin only barely flushed with any warmth. As his eyes passed over the bruises on her neck, the memory of the first night she aided him rose to the surface.

“I’d hate to lose such a useful person over a little blood,” she had said so sweetly the night he’d tried to drink from her. “If that’s all you need, I’ll help.” He was honestly surprised she hadn’t staked him right there, and even more taken aback that she was willing to leave herself at his mercy. Alynea had struggled against him that night, body shaking as her blood was siphoned away. She hadn’t said anything in the moment, but there was something indescribable about the sudden head rush Astarion had experienced. It was invigorating and electrifying, sharpening his vision as a tingle arced down his spine. He would later confirm the wave of energy that washed over him when drinking from her wasn’t normal; the goblins he’d torn open a few days later did nothing to soothe the vampiric hunger the way her lifeblood did. Perhaps it was due to the magic she claimed burned inside her, though he couldn’t be sure. It was hard to believe at times she was such a fearsome spellcaster with her small presence and diminutive form, but the fireball she’d launched past his head earlier in the day begged to differ. Even though she was the shortest and physically smallest of the ragtag group, the rest of the party had quickly learned to not be the cause of her split hairs, lest they be the target of her next spell.

He was no longer reading the words in his book, fingers paused in the middle of turning the page as he realized he was reminiscing like a schoolboy. How embarrassing, he thought to himself. Sure, Alynea was another pretty face, but he couldn’t fathom why she lingered in his mind the way she did. The woman was a patriar’s daughter for hells sake—by all accounts she should be someone he held contempt for. Should was the operative word however, he was failing to find anything to find truly repulsive about the little elf. Perhaps the tadpole had scrambled his brain more than he’d like to admit. Before he could muse any longer on the thought, there was a noise that drew him back to the present.

“Astarion? Gale’s gone now. I’m… I’m here, if you would like.” Her warbly voice was soft outside his tent as she stood by, picking at the strap of the oversized top she’d chosen as a nightgown. Although intended for a man much larger than her the shirt made for an acceptable nightdress, if a little short. The sound of a book snapping shut alerted her to the vampire shuffling around inside the tent before the main flap was pulled back, a hand inviting her in. Crouching as she stepped within the boundaries of his tent, her pupils dilated as her vision adjusted. Being elves, the lack of light was no issue for them, Astarion could see her perfectly well in the dark, and he knew she could see him as well.

“Oh my... you’re in a distracting outfit tonight darling,” the vampire drawled. Alynea’s cheeks flushed pink at that as her fingers tweaked a strand of hair between them. “I can change if—” He waved a hand, cutting her off. “Oh I doubt that’ll be necessary. After all, I will be needing access to that pretty little neck of yours.”

She swallowed thickly at that, nostrils flaring slightly as his grin made her shiver. As she squirmed under his gaze a strange sense of irritation rose in his chest at the sight of her. The garment she wore hung loosely off her shoulders and low on her chest which left little to the imagination, the hemline only just reaching the top of her knee. It was a dress that, if one could even call it such, practically screamed sex appeal. Knowing she had been sitting shoulder to shoulder with Gale directly prior to this, jealousy stirred in him for a moment before he regained control. That bumbling wizard wouldn’t know what to do with Alynea even if she were to lie nude and expecting in front of him.

That mental image sparked a new sense of discontent in Astarion. He could hardly believe he was competing with Gale for her affections, dismayed at the thought of her possibly seeing them in the same league. In fact, he could hardly believe he was competing with any of them. Wyll was but a bright-eyed child, still wet around the ears. The warlock’s eyes shined with adoration for the woman, but it was clear he was unable to think beyond that. Shadowheart was just as bad, with the way she had roped the sorcerer into listening to her Sharran drivel. Astarion scowled at that, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Alynea cleared her throat, bringing him back to the present. “Are you alright Astarion?” There was an unknowable emotion in her eyes that made him shy away from her gaze, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Apologies,” he muttered. “I was distracted by a thought is all.” The excuse did little to sway her; she just stared back at him with those large silver eyes. Astarion tilted his head, seeing the way she looked down at the strand of hair she fiddled with. She was well within her rights to still be uncomfortable about the arrangement they’d made, though something whispered to him that it wasn’t fear of him that made her shy. Ever since the first incident, she’d insisted on giving her some of her blood when the group failed to find enough fights for him to feed from. Despite how palpable her nervousness was, she would take a deep breath and shake her head when he offered her an out, even as the anxiety rolled off her in waves.

Astarion shifted, adjusting his position to sit at one end of the tent with his legs spread. Given she was much smaller, he grabbed a pillow he’d swiped from the grove and placed it between his thighs. Frankly, she needed it, so he could reach her neck without craning his own horrendously. Alynea was fragile against him when his fangs were in her throat, and he didn’t want to risk hurting her more than he had to. Her willingness to let him feed from her was a gift and he would not squander it, he thought to himself. No, as much as he wanted to indulge, to feel her warmth fade as he drained every last drop from her body, he knew he couldn’t. Her generosity was one of the kindest things anyone had ever willingly done for him and he refused to ruin it.

He outstretched a hand to her to guide her as she sat down on the pillow, twisting around to press her back against him. The warmth of her skin was pleasant against his cool chest, something he always relished when she let herself nestle against his body. He paused at the way her muscles tensed when his fingers brushed along her ears, sweeping back her ivory locks to reveal her neck. The tiniest drop of guilt bubbled up in him upon seeing the lingering bruises from the last time, but it quickly faded away. He had plans to make it up to her tonight.

“Now, kitten,” he cooed into her ear, his lips only a breath away. “You let me know when you’re ready, darling.” Although she was insistent on letting him receive blood from her, Astarion had found she would flinch when he gave no warning before ravaging her neck. They had tried other veins, including her wrists or arms, but nothing had been as efficient as her throat for drawing enough. Despite how his gut would wrench with hunger at her scent, he found she handled the situation best when she was in control. How innocent, he had thought. But still he restrained himself; he could control his desires and he would.

At first, she had been telling him verbally when she was ready, but much to his surprise the last two times she had simply squeezed his knee to let him know she was prepared. Although she hadn’t been the quickest to warm up to him when they first met, it was the little things that told Astarion he was making progress with her. For all her sweet demeanor, she was a powerful sorcerer he wanted on his side. He’d slowly been gaining her trust and affection, and these intimate nights where she let him drink only accelerated the relationship. This time he was preparing to step things up, the scent of her blood filling him with a carnal desire to bend her over and break her.

“Sweet thing, you smell delicious tonight,” he whispered into her ear. She was wearing perfume tonight, same as the last few times. The aromas of mugwort and balsam floated up from her skin and filled his head as he remembered her picking the herbs earlier in the day. It was a sweet gesture, though it didn’t do much to distract him from his prize. Nevertheless, he was flattered by the effort. Sharp fangs slid out just a fraction from his gums, the pointed ends brushing along the cartilage of her upper ear. Alynea shuddered at the touch, squeaking out the tiniest yelp as one of his hands began rubbing along her arm. It was his attempt to relax her, to ply her to his want and to let herself go limp in his arms.

“Astarion, before you—” She paused, her breath hitching as his other hand innocently rested on one of her knees, thumbpad rubbing circles into her skin. “Yes, dear? What could possibly be the matter?” The low timbre of the vampire’s voice sent shivers down her body and she let out a short breath, unaware she had even been holding it.

“N-Nothing’s the matter,” Alyena stammered. Oh, how sweet that little stutter made her sound to him. She only ever stuttered like that when she was flustered, overwhelmed with her emotions. Those feelings always quieted down when he sank into her though, her shaky voice silencing to a soft “oh…” each time. He could hardly wait to feel her grip at his thigh, to signal to him that he could take her. “But I wanted to ask…” the man paused, lifting his head back slightly from her. She twisted around to look up at him and despite his best efforts, something twinged in the base of his stomach. A primal, growling desire rumbled in him, but he bit his tongue as those impossibly round doe eyes stared up at him.

“Um… Could you possibly take off your shirt before you do it?” A flush crept across her cheeks, a rare instance of her skin becoming rosy. “I… I like the way it feels, when you press your chest against my back, and…” Astarion cracked a devilish grin as she mumbled out her request, tripping and stumbling over her words. Something about it feeling safe when she was held in an embrace, how skin to skin contact felt, and so on. She blushed, biting a nail as she looked up. Liar, he snarked in his head. He knew she was attracted to him, despite her avoidance of the question when he had asked. She wanted a good piece of eye candy, that’s why she was asking.

“As you wish, so it shall be granted, darling,” he replied graciously to her. In a moment, his blouse was untied and slipped over his white curls, tossed aside to a forgotten corner of his tent. She paused to stare for a moment, biting her lip as her eyes took in his shape in the dark before sitting back against him. Alynea felt both panic and excitement rise in her throat as he settled back in, cool skin pressing against hers. She knew he could feel her heartbeat, smell the rush of her blood, though it wasn’t something she could control exactly. Truth be told, she had been working up the nerve to ask him to do this. She wanted the chance to see him up close without his shirt, and now she had her desire.

Although she had tried her best to keep the instances of blood drinking transactional, it had become more and more impossible. Gods, he stared at her in such a smoldering way. The way his eyes gazed into hers, how he cradled her body in his arms as he fed, all made her feel weak in the knees. The last two times after she had left his tent she had laid in her own bedroll, desperately chasing release with her own means. The loss of blood put a pleasant haze over everything, and she found herself soaked with need and desire as she fantasized about the tall, handsome man who practically eyefucked her every chance he could. She wasn’t stupid; she could tell Astarion was undressing her in his mind every time he saw her. She could only hope her eyes didn’t give it away as much as his did.

Astarion’s thumb was rubbing circles again. This time though, she tensed, feeling his hand far higher up than it had been previously. Where his palm normally rested on her knee, his hand had slid down to lay on her inner thigh. The hem of her nightshirt was pushed up, and she blushed seeing her own skin.

��Hm… you naughty girl, you’re not even wearing any underwear,” he purred. His voice made her blink and focus, becoming more alert to the position she was in. It made her blush further, realizing how she was fully lying back against the elf, heart thudding in her chest as his other hand moved lower, finding a spot at her waist. His touch made her voice catch in her throat, a particularly sweet sound coming out only barely above a whisper as he pulled her against him. “I…” she mumbled something, trying to think of a response, but finding none. Was he going to realize? Would he know she’d been planning this night in her mind all day?

“Shh, shh,” he hushed, his fingers dragging their nails over the milky skin of her inner thigh. Her leg twitched at this as his fingers moved closer to her groin, dangerously close. “Do you think I was oblivious to your antics the last two times?” His voice was a low growl now, a dangerous edge to it that she seldom heard, yet caused her belly to twinge all the same in response. “Coming in here, all perfumed, barely dressed,” he muttered into her ear.  “Sitting here, all soft and sweet while you bled for me” he continued. “To then go back to your bedroll and whine the way you do,” he added, Alynea shivering at his voice. “Fucking yourself on your fingers while you moaned my name,” he hissed, mouth hovering over her neck, just behind her ear.

Alynea closed her eyes, her face flushed as she felt her stomach tie into a knot. She should’ve known, she realized. Of course a vampire, an elven one no less, would have been able to hear her whines, no matter how muffled. “Astarion,” she whimpered, her hand squeezing at his thigh. A silent yes, her way of giving him permission.

“The last two times,” he breathed out hoarsely, his tongue dragging along her neck and paying particular attention to the two bruises he’d left. She quivered under his touch, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tried not to squeak. “You made me listen while you made your desires known.” Alynea could hardly breathe, with how tight the tension in her body was coiled. She was melting under every single touch of his now. “You made me listen, kitten, to those cries, after flirting with me all day.” She nearly palmed his head away when his fangs scraped along her ear, making her strain and push against him, rocking her body back. Astarion grinned, his arm coming around to encircle her waist. He had her at his mercy now, unable to pull away as his other hand pushed up the hem of her nightgown even further, exposing her.

“All while acting so innocent to me the next morning,” he growled. She gasped when his fangs pierced her, louder than she ever had before. Her body shuddered against his as she let out a low breathy moan, one that seemed to egg him on as his arm pulled her against him even harder. A sharp pain, now a familiar embrace, dulled her senses and made her weak as she became more pliable in his arms. As she lay there, she realized something; he was drinking slowly, much slower in fact than usual. Blinking, she opened her mouth to say something but only managed to let out a quiet strangled noise

Astarion’s cool fingers had found her. She was already wet, and he found only the slightest bit resistance as he slid his first finger in before her body caved, freely letting him push into her. His thumbpad now circled her clit and she let out the most pathetic little sob of pleasure as he continued to slowly, agonizingly slowly, drink down her blood.

Alynea let out the softest, sweetest little moan, her hips jerking in response. She wasn’t thinking, just moving in reaction to him. Still, he held her firmly, slowly suckling out more of her blood as he dug his fingers into her. Hells, he thought to himself, she smelled and tasted incredible. The arousal he had smelled on her had already tipped him off to her state of mind when she had entered his tent, but now it was a full crescendo. Her little whimpers and moans as she attempted to be quiet, to not wake the whole camp, were like a symphony to his ears. It was a delight to hear it firsthand and by his hand, rather than how muffled it was when she was in her own bedroll, crying into her pillows to reduce the noise.

“Oh, Astarion...” He stiffened at her voice; the way his name fell from her mouth was sinful. He hummed as he slowly siphoned more blood, increasing the flow into his mouth and making her cry out as he slid another finger into her. His other hand reached up, tugging down her nightshirt from her shoulders and freeing her torso from the garment. Her lungs heaved as his fingers worked away at her flesh, pinching and groping and massaging the soft skin. Her whole body jolted at the touch, hips grinding up against his palm. With a loud groan of contentment, Astarion released his fangs from her throat, continuing to suck and lick at the two new puncture marks he’d left behind. He would take more later, but for now his focus was on seducing the sweet treat in his lap.

“Fuck, oh gods…” she whispered as Astarion looked down, smirking at what he saw. “Just me,” he crooned softly. He could see the ghost of a smile at his quip on her lips, but it vanished quickly as she melted into his embrace. Pleased with his work, he committed the image to memory. Alynea curled in his arms with her eyes closed, brows furrowed as she squirmed, her chest bared and blushed pink in various locations where he’d pinched and prodded. She was such a pretty thing, pushing her hips against his fingers. “You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmured against her skin. “Isn’t that right? You’ve been wanting to fuck yourself all over my fingers for a while now, you little minx.” Soft, shaky breaths escaped her as she shifted in his embrace while he dug further into her, searching for the soft little pad of tissue that he knew would undo her. He chuckled, nipping at her with his fangs. “Answer me, kitten.”

“A—yes, yes I—” she winced when she bit her tongue fumbling for words as he slid in a third finger. She felt his chest tighten as he sucked in a breath, tasting blood in her mouth. Their gazes locked, her wide eyes looking up at him as his free hand moved to come up to her chin. Firmly, but still gentle, he gripped her jaw as he pushed her to look at him.

Astarion couldn’t help but grin at the sight of her. The smell of her blood leaking from a nipped tongue, mingling with her hot breath made his own belly twinge. Her pupils were blown out, a sight he recognized well as lust. She whined when he withdrew his fingers from her, but he tutted at her softly as he brought them up to his own mouth. “You are perfect kitten,” he groaned softly, reveling in the taste. The smaller elf shivered as his hand left a smear on her thigh as he adjusted her in his arms. He shifted her head to his other shoulder, adjusting his own body to better support her frame as she leaned into him, his thumb pressed against her bottom lip. This night was about her, not him, but she was irresistible to him all the same. The primal, carnal urge within him growled, yearning to take her, though he forced it back down. Not yet, he hissed at it. Not tonight. He wouldn’t destroy this. He wouldn’t.

When he kissed her, he could feel her heartbeat skyrocket. His other hand fell, resuming his motions as she moaned into his mouth. His tongue chased hers, the linger taste of her mixing with her blood, a soft groan escaping him as she whimpered. A sweet thing indeed, he thought to himself. He stayed there, kissing her and lapping at the swollen spot on her tongue that bled just the tiniest bit, enticing him to go further as he kept up the rhythm, fingers reaching as far as he could into her.

Alynea was speechless, her mind racing. Gods, she had been dreaming about this exact scenario for over two weeks now. His fingers felt heavenly as they moved rhythmically against her, every stroke sending another jolt of pleasure through her bones. She could feel her heart in her throat as he kissed her, a strong hand on her jaw keeping her there as his tongue delved into her mouth.

It was all beginning to be too much. Still, she did nothing to stop him as he carried on, feeling herself react more and more sharply the longer he continued. In the back of her mind she could hear herself moaning louder, the sounds harder to control as the pleasure became more intense. Despite the spells inside her that roiled and bubbled up, she kept it down as he slid his fourth finger in, the noises becoming more obscene as her eyes rolled back slightly, waves of heat continuing to build in the bottom of her belly. She had trained her magic well enough to not be worried about a mephit blinking into existence or thornbushes coming up to entangle them, but nonetheless she fought off the tingling feeling in her chest as the tension in her body continued to grow.

“Astarion,” she whimpered against his mouth, catching his attention. His fingers paused for a moment and she whined, rocking her hips slightly as if desperately telling him not to stop. “Astarion, I want you to bite me,” she pleaded, “again, on the neck.” She could feel him smirk against her lips as his fingers started up again, this time more feverish than before. “Oh, you sweet thing,” he whispered, hand still on her jaw. He tilted her head down against his shoulder and she groaned as she felt her orgasm starting to build. She could faintly hear him laugh softly as she began grinding her hips into his hand, biting on her tongue in concentration, legs shaking as she did so. With her head resting in the crook of his neck, she began to moan again, unable to contain her voice as she reached for her release. Alynea had wanted this for so long, her body was on fire with anticipation. She felt his hand leave her jaw, returning to massage her chest and she stifled her cries into his neck. His cool skin provided brief momentary relief as the pressure in her body came to a rumbling boil, but the rush of heat returned just as quickly and fiercer than before.

She didn’t know why he hadn’t returned his fangs to her neck and now she desperately wanted them. A part of her was laughing at the contradiction; his fangs sinking into her often hurt, yet here and now as she was a shuddering mess she wanted nothing more than that sharp, bright pain. Shivers rippled through her body at the thought, muscles straining against his four fingers he kept fucking her with. Fuck, she realized. Did he want her to beg? To plead for him to ruin her further?

Well, if that’s what he wanted, she had no qualms about doing so.

Astarion was a little surprised when Alynea’s hand palmed at his forearm. He didn’t really expect her to be able to think coherently in the moment, given how uninhibited she was making such sweet noises for him. There was something pathetically desperate about the way she weakly pawed at him, unable to put any real strength into her grip. Her head shifted, shaking slightly as her lips moved close to his ear. Sucking in a sharp breath as her lips grazed his neck while her nails dug gently into his skin, he bit back a groan as her tongue rolled over his skin. “You little minx,” he growled quietly, the low register of his voice sending a chill through her.

“Astarion, please,” she mewled. “Please… I need your fangs in me, I’m- I’m so close…” He stiffened a little at that, his own erection that was hidden by the pillow she sat on twitching at her pleas. He hummed, craning his neck down to the exposed skin. “My, my, who would’ve thought our fearless sorceress would be brought to her knees like this,” he crowed. “Moaning and crying like this, begging for me.” In the back of his mind Astarion was gleeful. He knew she was being too loud at this point; Wyll in his tent could probably hear her halfway across the campsite. He knew that the wizard nearby could definitely hear her cries. Perhaps this would finally send the others the message he'd been trying to tell them: She’s mine. She was his to hold close, to nip on the neck and to pleasure.

“Please… I’ve been… been so good, for you,” she whined into his ear, each breathy gasp making him bite the inside of his cheek harder. “I’ve let you take so much… so much blood,” she whimpered. The salt of her sweat left a tang in his throat, lips pressed against her neck as she continued to moan. He could tell she was getting close, with the way she was grinding herself onto his fingers, her heartbeat pulsing through her whole body.

“Oh, fuck, don’t make me keep begging,” she whispered. There was a frantic tone in her voice as she shuddered, continuing to grind against him. “Please, oh gods, I’m so close, I want your fangs in me when I—Astarion, please,” she wailed, completely lost to the hope of staying silent. Was that a tear he spotted in the corner of her eye? He could almost laugh in disbelief, though he would not betray her feelings in that way, at least not in the moment. Planting a soft kiss to her jawline, his fingers tangled themselves into her silver hair. With the slightest bit of force, Astarion pulled her head fast against his shoulder to expose her neck as best as possible. Alynea was shaking with need, sweat glistening down her body as he heard her voice become strained.

She was such a pretty little thing. And she was such an exquisite treasure when she was laid out like this, wanton moans muffled against his body as her nails dug into his arms, her hips moving back and forth against his fingers that continued to push deep inside her. “Sweet thing, don’t cry,” he purred. He could see her chest fall a little at the reassurance, as if some relief had come from his words alone. The sound of her blood rushing echoed in his ears, heartbeat thudding wildly throughout her body as her breathing became even more labored. She was right at the edge now, he figured. They had been at this for over ten minutes and the slow build up was clearly agonizing for her, to be this close.

His fingers slowed for a moment, withdrawing most of the way out of her, his thumb pressing harder against her clit as she cried against him in protest. She was so close, teetering on the edge of her release, but he shushed her to soothe her begging as he planted one more gentle kiss on her neck. “You’re right, darling,” he whispered. “You’ve been a wonderful girl, such a good treat for me,” he muttered against her skin.

“Oh, fuck!” Alynea cried out against his neck as the white-hot pain lanced through her own, feeling his fingers thrust back into her with full force. Eyes squeezed shut, she couldn’t see the wild and unfocused look in his eyes as he began to drink. The familiar hazy sensation from blood loss washed over her with force as he drank deeply, swallowing down mouthfuls of her blood as he fucked her onto his hand.

It was all simply too much. The pressure in the bottom of her belly swelled to a feverish pitch, before it all exploded. She could faintly hear him grunt as her muscles clenched, her whole body seizing up as relief washed over her, ripping through and out her body forcefully.  Her hips bucked hard against his hand, thighs shaking as they tried to press together. His fingers had slowed, but continued to gently fuck her through the high as she felt his fangs begin to retract, her hips beginning to calm down.

After a moment, his fangs finished retracting and Alynea’s gasps settled down to soft mumbles as he lapped at her neck, helping to close over the new marks left by his feeding. There was a groan from her throat as his fingers lazily withdrew from her, her body aching at the sudden loss. She heard him suck in a breath, seeing how the cushion she sat on was freshly wet as a creeping embarrassment grew in her chest.

He grinned at her, not a glint of shame in his eyes as he lifted his hand, dragging his tongue from his wrist to the top of his palm as she watched with a heavy blush. Then, he reached for his pack off to the side and tugged out a cloth. That was enough to erase any lingering worry she felt as her breathing even out. After a moment, she shivered as he wiped her down as well before he placed the rag off to the side to be forgotten. Astarion sat quietly, seemingly unsure of what to do next with the quivering mess in his lap. After a moment she shifted, twisting herself around and surprising him as her arms wrapped around his torso. “Did you enjoy that?” She whispered, head resting still on his shoulder.

Something lanced through him with those words. She asked so innocently, so sweetly, as if he hadn’t just made her lose her mind on his fingers. There was a tinge of authenticity to her tone, something that told him she wanted to know truly if he had enjoyed it. “Darling,” he purred. “You were marvelous.” That wasn’t a lie, he mused to himself. He had enjoyed it, watching her unravel because of his actions made something in him swell with satisfaction. Pride, even.

“The next time you’re so desperate as to keep me up all night listening to you,” he spoke softly, more gently. “Don’t torture yourself. Not when I can help.” She seemed to relax at his words, her eyes unfocused and hazy as her heartbeat began to slow. Exhaustion was calling to her, even as Astarion pulled away to grab another pillow. “You should head to your bedroll, sweet kitten,” he whispered. To his surprise though, she reached out weakly, fingers tangling with his own. “I don’t particularly… care what the others have to say,” she murmured. She was falling into her trance now, voice heavy with exhaustion. “So… let me stay with you tonight here. …Please?”

Again, something in the way she spoke shot right through him. The intimacy of her fingers entwined with his made a strange sensation flood over his face. Although her eyes had closed, he said nothing, only nodding. Pulling a blanket over her shoulder and covering her half naked form, he laid her down on his bedroll. He had never done this part of sex, he thought to himself. Though she didn’t seem to be asking for much. Perhaps she just wanted to stay where a bedroll had already been warmed, instead of making the trudge back to her own tent.

In the morning, Alynea would be slow to wake. When she did, she reached for the amulet Astarion had swiped in the grove, her skin shimmering as the lesser restoration spell shook the sleep from her eyes. To her back was the pale elf, still shirtless from the night before, though he had made distance between them overnight. She blushed when she sniffed the air, heavy with the smell of sex, the smell of her. Yawning, she adjusted her nightgown as Astarion began to shift, waking from his own trance.

Red eyes met silver, blinking silently. Sheepishly, she smiled at him. “Good morning." A slight smile ghosted across his face before vanishing as he sat up, reaching for his blouse. “Sleep well, darling?” He asked. She nodded, reaching up to trace at the nicks left on her neck. She flinched a little when pressing on one of them; the tissue was sore. She looked over to him, whose gaze had also settled on it. Astarion smirked at her, looking down as he laced up his blouse. “My apologies, darling. It seems the bruising is quite... intense this time.”

When she finally left his tent, she cringed internally as she briefly met Wyll’s gaze across from her tent as she slipped inside, hastily changing out of her disheveled nightshirt. She knew the boy had harbored a crush on her since his childhood, and some part of her felt bad knowing he probably heard her cries last night. Likewise, Gale hadn’t come out of his tent yet either. She felt her face flush at the thought of her friend lying in his bedroll, forced to listen as she had wailed so openly for Astarion, moaning his name, begging him to undo her.

Later, the women who had their tents on the other side of the campsite would ask why the men were so quiet. Gale, ever the gentleman, had the grace to brush it off as being exhausted from a bad sleep while Wyll said nothing, staring down intently at his food. Astarion however, had rolled his eyes, scoffing something about humans and their need for sleep. Karlach guffawed at that, pointing out that it was no secret that Alynea had slipped out of his tent this morning and not her own, her neck covered in bruises. True to her word, when Astarion glanced over at the elf, she was chewing on a strip of bacon as she peered over a spell scroll totally unbothered. When she looked up to see the party’s eyes on her, she blinked, swallowing before saying the simplest, sweetest thing he had heard from her yet.

“Yeah, I did. He was good.”

[sheeezu]

you asked for free labor and i OBLIGE! there’s nothing more i love than hearing people talk about their drs: anything simple from morning routine, to life altering moment, to happiest moment, literally anything you’d like 🎀 lol i’m a sucker for a good story

Oof I completely missed your ask.

Anyways I'm happy to share :)

I'm not sure what I could possibly share in my morning routine, it's the same as any other person's DR. Wake up, get a kiss from my SO, eat breakfast which has always been porridge, i find it more convenient, then I change into my work uniform (yes, I wear a uniform to work) and then go to work.

I think it's just better to just do a random storytime, I have a very mushy brain at the current moment so my mind is replaying a single memory so-

I was in college and my best friend (who's my SO now) forced me to go a concert with him, it was a pretty big celebrity in my reality, and so I knew there was going to be a crowd.

I was too hesitant because I didn't even know a single song from that artist, second, I didn't want to be pushed around, and the main reason was I had dinner with my dad (Btw I love him, best dad ever)

So after adjusting my schedule, I arrived at the concert with my soon-to-be SO.

All I did during the concert was stand stone faced in the middle of the crowd, we were standing pretty close to the stage. Long story short I ended up being pushed by this very eager fangirl into the stage, and ended up getting a small cut on my wrist from the edge of the stage.

I left to hopefully locate a restroom, it was a very local concert literally held at our college. So I entered the washroom and stopped my bleeding cut. After a while I thought there was no better place to find peace away from the crowd than in the restroom, meaning I got distracted and took out my phone and read world affairs for a good 20 minutes.

After a while some guy comes in, so I put the phone back and faced him, he was the singer who was performing, at this point in my life this had been my first time being this close to a celebrity, but did it mean much to me? no.

What I was more confused about what this 2 year post graduate celebrity guy just walked into the college restroom which students use, without a care of security risks.

I asked him what he was doing here, he told me that "What? Even famous people have to go."

I realised this was getting awkward, so I reworded my question, telling him that this is the restroom students use, I tried to prove my point I pointed towards an area of the wall where random swear words and suggestive drawings were made with a sharpie, only to find they had been covered with some sort of weird medical tape.

I cleared my throat, before he tells me that this is the VIP restroom he had been escorted to.

Sure enough, outside there was a paper stuck to the door and a big VIP was written on it.

Basically they converted the restroom on the campus into a VIP restroom only for one day.

And I managed to sneak in, idk there was no one guarding the restroom so that makes it even more funny.

He asked me if i wanted an autograph to which my politics clouded mind responded with a big fat blunt no.

But then I remembered it would give me some brownie points if I bring back an autograph to the guy I was trying to win over, who, at that time was a pretty decent fan of this celebrity (also, there is nothing special to this celebrity just because I haven't mentioned his name, his name was Jimmy, and he looked like jimmy Nuetron) so after a while I told him that, I, infant would like an autograph.

I had nothing on which I could get a signature on, in my pocket was just one blood socked tissue paper.

And so I got it signed.

...

I got out and like a psychopath handed over the bloody signed tissue to my soon to be SO who was more worried since he thought I got lost somewhere, since the concert ended a while ago.

...

He still has that tissue paper. It's has a sentimental value in our relationship.