#but also somewhat ominous yes

[shuosen]

gojo satoru x top! amab! reader

cw: slight degradation, hair pulling, blowjob (r), slight choking, slapping if you squint, overstim?, stomach bulge

there was a very, very thin line between lust and fear that many don’t realize they’ve traveled. they stand to wonder if the shivers that wrack their body are from desire, or terror. Gojo Satoru, is not afraid of anything. he is the strongest, he knows he is the strongest. his confidence and strength has gotten him to where he is today- where is he?

he wants to say he’s currently wooing a woman, that he’s in a fight, and of course winning, but he cant. he cant say he’s out doing badass shit- hell, he can’t say anything at all. not with your cock stuffed down his throat, pulsing veins pressing against his flat tongue that struggles to maneuver across the girth of your member.

his large, strong hands shake helplessly in the air before he lays them on his thighs, gripping the familiar texture of his uniform. his eyes twitch before shutting tight, attempting to keep the tears in his eyes from falling, because gojo satoru does not cry.

he’s struggling to keep it together and you chuckle with as much amusement as one can manage, watching him flinch when the tight hand in his hair tugs harder. he wonders if this is what fear feels like, because surely this powerful feeling dwelling in his stomach and producing full body reactions is not lust. surely he is not lusting this hard for his colleague, and his friend.

your predatory eyes glaze over as he chokes on your cock, and you grip his hair at his scalp, thrusting into his throat and you’re sure you’ve successfully made any and all thoughts flee from his mind.

“you liking this, baby? hm? does my cock in your throat feel good?”

the only response you get are gurgles and useless whines as your cock and his spit clog his mouth, and you just have to grin at your hard work, finding pride in reducing ‘the strongest’ to a whore and a hole.

“thas’ right.. hu- fuck.” you mumble, rolling your hips into his mouth, listening as he chokes and gags each time your head presses into the back of his throat. It’s sloppy, he doesn’t know how to use his mouth for this kind of thing, but his throat closes around you with every gag and every sob he lets out, and he’s making you feel good even with no experience. you just think he is so pretty like this, face all red and messy, but you’re also sure he’ll be even prettier once you stretch him out and fill him up, and you know his noises will be music to your ears when you’re finally able to fuck him, so you pull out, taking advantage of his dazed state, listening to him sputter as you slap your cockhead on his lips.

“get up.” you order, grabbing his arm and aiding him to his feet, before shoving his face into the bed you were previously sitting on, listening as he gasps a deep breath. you waste no time grabbing both of his wrists with one hand while the other yanks his pants and underwear down to his thighs. the sudden movement makes him twitch in surprise, his fingers curling into his palms, a noise between a gasp and a groan leaving his lips as you manhandle his hips, moving him to your liking freely.

“shit, wait!” gojo stumbles over his words, trying to push his hips down and away from your hands, the snap sound of the lube cap somewhat ominous to his muddled brain.

“what?” you ask, bending yourself over his back, resting your chin against his shoulder and letting go of his wrists in favor of pulling his chin up from the bedsheets. “you want me to stop?”

he freezes at the question, something akin to a sob falling from his lips, because he didnt expect you to ask that and he sure as hell doesnt have an answer. if he says no, would that be stripping him of his pride? he’s a man with much dignity and little femininity. if he say’s no, he’s allowing himself to be fucked, which means he can no longer deny the lust and the longing for you, for your cock, but if he says yes, you’ll leave him here- his own member dripping and lonely, your burning touch fading from his body- and with a broken whine, he comes to the conclusion that the former is the better choice, letting himself go slack in your hold.

“no..”

“good boy.” you grin, and he flinches at the cold temperature of the lube pouring onto his hole.

it’s been hours- gojo thinks. hours since you first began prepping him, fingers sinking into his tight hole, stretching it beyond what he thought it could be, hours since you first sank into him, hours since your cock first grazed his prostate, and hours since his descent into becoming a brain dead cock whore began.

“A-auhhg! f-fuck! fuck!” He cries, his noises so loud that they almost drown out the slap of your hips against his ass and thighs, the reddening of them just one aspect of proof of how long you’ve been rutting into him. you wanted to be slow with him, treat him nicely and slowly unfold him beneath you, but these noises, seeing your cock disappear everytime you sink in, and the way his back arches was too good to resist.

you fucked into him harshly and deeply, your red, burning cock bruising his sweet spot with every sharp piston of your hips into his sloppy hole. he’s completely given up trying to save his image, the way he cries and moans and kicks as you take him is clear of that. he no longer cares about anything but you ruining his pretty, puffy hole.

the pace of your hips is so fast, and so rough that he cant register the difference between your thrusts in and your slides out, and he cant do anything but scream, his noises a mix of words, letters, and maybe your name.

through your own groans and puffs of air, you chuckle, something that sounds demeaning to his ears and he shrivels, a loud “n-no!” echoing through the small room, but neither of you know what he’s addressing.

“what’s wrong?” you huff, adjusting your grip on his waist, and leaning forward for a new angle. “HCK- Sh- Ughk!” he chokes, stuffing his face forward into the sheets and you click your tongue, moving your hand around, and pulling him up along with you by his neck, your fingertips squeezing the sides.

“i asked you a question, toru. you too fucked out to answer me properly?”

his breathing is heavy and labored and you laugh at his pathetic state once again. “whatever,” you mumble, letting go of his neck, allowing his upper body to fall onto the bed. “jus’ means im doin’ a good job.”

you grin, pressing a hand down on his back harshly, forcing an arch as you continue to rut into his sloppy hole. gojo yelps under you, his milky thighs shaking with the effort of holding his hips up, his hands gripping onto the sheets beside his head as if they’ll run away. you’re sure he’s cum multiple times untouched now, but every man wants pleasure on his dick, and maybe it was an act of mercy, or maybe it was just your evil mind, but you reached under him, squeezing his cock in your hold, beginning to jerk him off.

at the first feathery touch of your hand, gojo screamed, jolting forward, his legs kicking upwards, desperate hands trying to push yours away from his sensitive, leaking dick as you pound into his hole and jerk him off at the same time. “s-no! shit! cant!”

“you can.” your sentence is punctuated by a slap on his ass and his whole body jumps, his shoulders shaking as he curls into himself, and he looks small.

your thumb rubs over his tip continuously, and his hips buck so harshly your forced to let go, and your hand brushes over his stomach, feeling something that makes your hips stutter, almost pausing in their ministrations.

“fuh-fuck.. ‘toru, no way.” you laugh, bringing him up so his back is flush with your chest and you peer over his shoulder, delivering one deep, harsh thrust into him, confirming the cock bulge in his defined stomach.

a groan erupts from your throat, and theres no time wasted before your pressing him into the bed with your back and your hips, fucking his hole again, but this time- your sly hands rub his stomach, before pressing down with force, right where your cock is, and gojo squeals, his voice high pitched, desperate and messy like a common street whores.

the sound tips you over, your pace slowing, and gojo, as spent as he is, breathes a sigh of relief, taking deep breathes in, before pressing his hand against your abdomen, trying to push your cock out.

“oh? we aren’t done so soon..”

please like and reblog to show your support! this is my first piece of writing, and english is my second language, so i’m a little worried about how its come out. thank you! <3

[eggonthemoon]

Alien Stage Round 6 Character Analysis and Lyrics Breakdown

Okay so obviously spoilers, don't click Keep Reading if you haven't watched Round 6.

God fuck it's so fucking beautiful, where do I start?

I don't even know what is going on with those rapid shots of what I assume is some form of experiment that Till was involved in. I have no clue what the goal was or if it succeeded but somehow (for no real reason other than that one image of Luka standing behind Till ominously) I feel that Luka is involved with it.

Was this an attempt by Heperu's (Luka's guardian) rival to make a human capable of going up against Luka? Till being the youngest and Luka being the oldest also means that Till's guardian could have caught on to what Heperu was planning to do with Luka and then start experimenting on humans shortly after and it would still somewhat line up with the timeline.

But I'm getting into conspiracy territory, back to suffering!!

Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don't want to let you go

Oh this hurts. Seeing him look so defeated and exhausted, you can tell that even though to the public it's not certain whether Mizi died or not it doesn't matter to him. Because she's still gone away from his world, where he is unable to reach her. He wants to dissolve and die but he also doesn't want to let her go if there is even a sliver of hope that she lives.

Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that

Not a single drop of me remains

Let me drown in you

The footage that plays to these lyrics really show how defeated he is. He refuses to sing, his passion for the art completely dead and buried. And (his guardian I assume) when someone shoves the fact that Mizi is gone in his face he lashes out and punches one of the aliens near him.

Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

However his heart isn't entirely in it and is quickly apprehended.

He is beyond exhausted and doesn't even protest or put up a fight while (the same alien he punched btw) another alien runs their fingers through his hair.

On your icy lips

Read my soul

Yes, my soul

He hopes that even if Mizi is dead that her spirit watches over him, seeing his soul and by extension, Him, for all that he is. Every thought and breath until he falls asleep is for Mizi.

But didn't we already know this is how he'd be like? Time for something juicier~

Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart

God this is heart shattering. Even if Till doesn't care for him, even if Till throws hurtful words his way, Ivan will still lie awake at night, cherishing what sliver of attention he is given. It doesn't matter if Till hates him, because as long as he is on Till's mind Ivan is happy. He is entirely in Till's hands, capable of being build up or torn down depending on how much (or how little) he is perceived by him.

Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I'll drown in you

He wants so deeply to be seen by Till, noticed. Till who doesn't let anything hold him down and always picks himself back up became a pillar of hope and strength to Ivan. It didn't matter how or in what context he gets to be seen, so he went out of his way to provoke him just to get Till to look at him even for a moment.

This was mentioned a while back on VIVINOS Patreon but the entire incident where Mizi and Till got attacked by that hound monster was orchestrated by him. I feel like there is two possible reasons for this depending on when in the timeline this takes place.

Either he wanted to test Till's resolve in hopes of being proven wrong about his courage (after all your hopes can't be dashed on the rocks, if you never had hopes to begin with) only for his obsession to end up growing even stronger than before.

Or he tried to let Till get roughed up enough that he'd be transferred (solitary confinement? emergency room?) somewhere else away from the others at Anakt, so they could escape together.

But we all know how that turned out.

Either way what Ivan wants isn't freedom, he's long since given up on that. There's no point in his freedom if the person that inspired him to yearn for it isn't by his side. He needs Till there, his very presence to reassure him that no matter what Till won't falter. But he failed to take account of the one thing that weakens Till's resolve.

Mizi.

Mizi is to Till what Till is to Ivan. And so without Mizi in his world Till crumbles. Since Till will only go where Mizi is and Mizi already gave away her heart to someone else, it's impossible for Ivan to be free while keeping Till in his world.

And so he follows him, resigning himself to a life without freedom.

Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

But the distance between them is killing him, and each and every day they come closer to their inevitable doom.

It doesn't matter if they believe the lie the aliens told them, that if they die singing they will be blessed. Because what is the point in that? How can going somewhere far away from the people they love be a blessing?

In your gaze where I am seen

Consume me

Yes, me

His desires mirror Till's. He wants his soul to be seen by him, recognized for his undying love for him. He wants Till to see that he can give him all that Till yearns for in Mizi and more.

To this everlasting melody

Face to face we dance

And yet Till still refuses to look Ivan in the eyes.

Things get a little unclear but since they aren't shown singing here and there's no flashback to accompany the lyrics, we can assume that at this moment Till most likely gave up on singing.

With our story

Lost in forever's embrace

I'm not sure if Ivan intended this from the start or if it's a decision he made then and there but one thing is certain. If Till stops singing then that would mean he forfeits, he'll lose. Till has never once given up. Even when he went back for Mizi that night, he never intended to leave her in the first place. But now without her he crumbles.

And Ivan can't let that happen, not like this.

Moral grey area aside, this scene is so deeply moving to me

And I don't say that in a romantic context, absolutely not. This is something much deeper than just love. This is the culmination of everything they've been through, all those moments lead up to this.

Because this isn't a kiss.

This is Ivan throwing his life away for Till.

Till was going to loose, the only thing that could overturn that is if his opponent attacks him. The kiss was to distract Till and keep him from catching up to what Ivan was planning.

Just look at the contrast between their first and second kiss. As soon as the score board shows Till is in the lead, he gives him a gentle peck on the lips. The contrast is stark and full of meaning. This was the genuine kiss, hidden behind a smokescreen of aggressive bravado created from the previous one.

And it worked. Till was completely convinced that Ivan's intentions was to kill him, and he was fully intent on letting him.

I know a lot of people doubted his intentions. Because he didn't let go of Till's neck the minute he saw their scores, a lot of people assume that this was Ivan trying to drag Till down with him.

But the minute he coughed up blood what does he do?

He smiles.

and let's Till go.

He's only human. He might know logically that Till has won the match. But emotionally he refuses to let go until he is certain.

Until he knows for a fact that he is the one bleeding and dying he'll keep up his charade.

And then.

And only then.

Till truly sees Ivan.

As he dissolves in his gaze.

[halogalopaghost]

While the turtles are staying with April in season one, she has a somewhat hard time keeping food in the fridge. Four mutant turtle teens are no joke as far as appetite is concerned, and the novelty of having 100% new and fresh foods in the fridge at all times is not lost on them. They have to be encouraged a couple times to help themselves, and when they finally do it's like an apocalypse on her fridge.

She also enjoys introducing them to new things during this time. She brings home one of those TUBS of pillsbury cookie dough to make them fresh chocolate chip cookies. Before they're in the oven, Mikey finds her and she lets him have some of the dough.

And then Donnie comes into the kitchen and freezes when he sees them. He looks at the dough. He looks at Mikey. He looks at April.

"Did you let Mikey have chocolate?"

April looks at him. Looks at Mikey. "...Yes?"

Don FREAKS out and smacks the spoon out of Mikey's hand. "We can't have chocolate, we're severely allergic!"

April PANICS. "What?? I didn't know, I'm so sorry!"

"What do you mean you didn't know?" Don asks, clutching his baby brother to his chest like he's about to perish. Mikey looks confused. "You wouldn't give chocolate to a dog, would you?"

April's freaking out escalates. Dogs aren't supposed to have chocolate! She knows that much. "What do I do? Should we—uh—go to the ER?"

"Are you insane?" Don has Mikey practically in a headlock and Mikey is—crying? Choking? "We need a VET, April!"

Splinter, whose dad-sense is tingling so hard that his fur is standing on end, enters the kitchen ominously. "Boys. I hope you're behaving and being kind to our host."

April is like, five seconds away from just dying of sheer embarrassment and worry. She looks at Splinter with huge eyes, about to admit she's POISONED his son, and then Don dissolves into giggles.

She stares at him, open mouthed in shock. He releases Mikey, who as it turns out, is also giggling. The chokehold was doing little to suppress it. Splinter puts his head in his hand.

"I'm just kidding April. We eat chocolate just fine."

She has to take another long moment to process the shock and calm her heart down. Don's laughing so hard he's tearing up.

April has never had little siblings before. She used to wonder what it would be like, and there was a time in her life where she had even wanted a little brother or sister to tease and love.

She did not know the true nature of little siblings. Which is evil, naturally.

She chases Don out of the kitchen with the biggest wooden spoon she has, and Splinter HOPES she catches him.

[theminecraftbee]

Also, shoutout to Impulse for getting stuck in two of those worlds in ONE DAY. Joe revealed that the recording for what we now know as vault hunters was also last monday. Impulse is really going through it.

Impulse sweats. For the past several minutes, Iskall has been staring at him and "hmmm"-ing for some reason. His only solace is that he's also doing it to Etho, but it's still making Impulse feel like he's got something weird on his face. That, or Iskall has suddenly and unexpectedly transformed back into his original villager state. One or the other.

He glances at Etho, who shrugs awkwardly at Impulse. He looks back at Iskall, who is still 'HMMM'-ing, increasingly furiously.

"Do you think he wants us to say something?" Etho asks.

"I mean, I guess?" Impulse says. "He could just ask."

"He's just going to keep humming at us, though," Etho says. "That's scary."

"Scary?" Impulse says, blankly.

"HMMMMM," Iskall says with an irritated expression.

"Scary," Etho confirms. Impulse sighs.

"Okay, I'll handle it. Hey, Iskall," Impulse says.

"Oh, I didn't see you there," Iskall blatantly lies.

"Right. You're, uh, sounding a bit concerned, buddy," Impulse says.

"Right, yes. Very concerned. Did you know you and Etho are already claimed? And, like, super cursed."

"Uh, I got a divorce with Cleo, you know," Etho says, completely straight-faced. "I'm a bachelor now. Not claimed by anyone."

"I'm not sure Bdubs and I ever got a divorce," Impulse says.

"No, no, not claimed like that! Claimed like--I did warn you all, yes? That my patrons would not like it if you came with other gods all over you? They get jealous of each other, let alone whoever you have... doing that to you."

Impulse and Etho glance at each other again. Impulse looks back at Iskall. "Yeah, I think I'd remember if I were claimed by any gods. I don't really... worship any, these days."

"If I worship any gods, Iskall, they're not the kind yours can do anything about," Etho says.

"What?" Impulse says.

"I mean, I'm old! I'm old, Impulse! I've met a lot of gods! Some of them I have opinions on!" Etho says.

"No, I've met yours too, they won't cause problems, yeah?" Iskall says.

"Thank goodness," Etho says.

"Sometimes I forget how old you two are," mutters Impulse. "That doesn't answer the whole... already claimed?"

"Yeah, like, it stinks off of you to me. It's like... you've got... someone's already claimed you to kill players, not mobs. And your health is all wonky. And you're keeping secrets or... kept secret? And don't even get me STARTED on how much time you have. All wrong. Who did you even find to do that to you?"

Impulse freezes.

"...the time was last season," he says, finally.

"Last season? What?" Iskall says.

"Yeah, that was--you know what, tell your gods not to worry about it," Impulse says. "I'm sure it's. Fine? Hey, wait, how can you tell?"

Iskall shakes his head like he's trying to knock something out of his ear. "They're annoying about it. Make whatever curse you're under go away while you're here or they're going to make it my problem. Mine! As though I can do anything about it. Go to the mortal world, they say. Bring your friends back here, they say. We want to meet them, they say. They're so annoying."

Etho, without skipping a beat, says: "Yeah, are those gods or the mother I saw last night?"

There's an ominous roll of thunder.

"Oh, definitely your mom," he says. There is a second, even more ominous roll of thunder happens, somehow entirely focused on Etho's location. Impulse decides to ignore it.

"I'll bother Grian about it," Impulse decides. He somewhat doubts Grian is a god--man, he really, really hopes Grian isn't a god, actually--but maybe he knows that Secret Keeper guy. That feels like the kind of guy who probably did this to them.

"Do that," Iskall says, and he wanders off to bother Stress.

Etho watches him go. "You know, maybe we should worry about the fact we're cursed because of the Life games. That seems, uh, bad," he says.

Impulse thinks about it and shrugs. "Eh, what's the worst that can happen?"

A long silence.

"Don't answer that," he tells the silence, before it can ominously thunder again. He knows the kinds of things that will lead to gods mocking him, after all.

[changenameno]

Fingerblast PART 1

(Complete, link for the second part, down below ⬇️)

Summary:

It’s the middle of summer and therefore incredibly hot. Of course right then something had to be wrong with your AC. How fortunate for you that a handyman can come right over…

Pairing: Syverson x Short Fem. Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cursing, explicit description of sex, thirst trap named Sy, teasing, size kink, chasing?, choking (if you squint?), p in v (use of y/n = Your first name) -> most of these warnings apply to the second part

Word count: 1.3 K

A/N: Okay here goes my first attempt at writing smut…This is way longer than I intended it to become, whoops. Honestly this just came to me while stumbling over a song (aka the title of this specific fic 🤣). Also I think this reads a little like a bad porn video SORRY…but anyway….here goes nothing🙈😅….

It’s not proofread, any mistakes are my own. Please be kind, comments/reblogs are very appreciated…Thank you❤️✨

!Syverson is not my own creation (unfortunately)! And the song/lyrics don’t belong to me either!

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PART 1

It hadn’t even been twenty minutes since you’ve called but apparently the handyman had just arrived, if the heavy rumble of tires on gravel was anything to go by. So you made your way onto your porch, because honestly it didn’t make any difference if you’d wait in- or outside.

The heat had been crawling into your house since sunrise and now it was nearly more stifling inside, than out on your shaded porch. And at least here the stone beneath your bare feet was somewhat cooling.

You squinted at the huge red pickup truck now parked not far from your house.

Whoever was still seated inside was listening to music, clearly above a healthy decibel level, because you could hear it blasting even from where you stood quite a distance away.

At that exact moment the door swung open and you heard just a snippet of the song still playing, “Use my index, I can use my thumb.

Even use my pinky, it'll make you come. Close your eyes, it'll happen real fast

I just got you off with a fingerblast…”.Before you could hear more the door of the truck shut loudly. The sudden noise almost startling you.

Shaking your head you tried to compose yourself after overhearing what must have been a most charming song. You took a step forward, hell bent on pretending you hadn’t heard anything. Only now you’d noticed the mammoth of a man that had existed the truck.

Chiding yourself on how you hadn’t noticed him before.

You wrote it off as shock, because how else could you not have noticed the biggest fricking man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Said man raised his left hand in greeting, while pushing his sunglasses up on his shaved head with the other. He wore a red T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. Realizing you stared way too long at the handsome stranger without reciprocating his greeting, you quickly waved back; albeit a bit too late, as he had already turned his back to you.

Fortunately for you, he took his sweet time getting to his toolbox or whatever. Giving you the perfect opportunity to stare some more and that you did.

Good god, how did his shirt not rip when he moved? All that muscle had you salivating.

As he turned towards you, with his toolbox in hand, you couldn’t help but notice the ominous bulge in his shorts.

And then one thought lead to another, having you think about, how something entirely different would most certainly rip, upon his movement. That image had you clenching and swallowing thickly.

“Hey, I take it, you’re hav’n problems with your AC?” he drawled in a rough southern accent. You didn’t trust your voice, lest only a squeak would leave you, so you shook your head yes.

“Alright then, may I come ‘n?” He continued, an amused expression on his face, after you didn’t make a move to let him past you or into your house.

Finally you found your voice again, “Mmh yes, please do come…in,” you finished awkwardly, wanting to hit yourself for behaving like a middle schooler with a major crush.

It didn’t seem to bother him though, he simply chuckled deeply and entered your living room. As he walked by, you caught a whiff of his colon along with what must be his own natural musk, making you swoon on the spot. Damn it, he even smelled fucking fantastic.

From inside he called, “The name ‘s Syverson by the way, if you were wonderin’. But everyone calls me Sy anyway.”

Taking a second to draw a deep breath to calm your nerves and more accurately calm your ovaries, you headed in, after him.

He was standing in the middle of your living room, toolbox standing on your little coffee table, taking in your interior. Shaking your head, as if you could rid yourself of any indecent thoughts, you studied him once more.

Sy was big in every way possible, from his height, to his built and presence. Easily taking over your normally at least middle sized living room, making it seem shrunken.

This time you were a little bit more prepared when his sparkling blue eyes landed on you. Smiling you replied, “I’m y/n. Thank you for being here so quickly. The AC is right over there.” With a wave of your hand, you gestured in the direction of your adjacent kitchen, where the damned thing was let into the wall. He picked up the toolbox once more, before he followed closely behind.

As you lead the way into the kitchen, you could feel him staring at you hungrily, making you shiver from anticipation alone.

Sy swallowed thickly as the white dress you wore, showed even more of your pretty legs, with every bouncy step you took. Once in the kitchen you pointed up, at the opened AC. “I don’t know what seems to be the problem, normally if I do this…” you tried reaching the green button, even going as far as getting on your tiptoes, to show him, what normally did the trick.

As if hypnotized, he kept staring at the hem of your dress continuing to ride up, now almost getting a glimpse of your perfectly white panties. Fuck it, he thought as he drew impossibly closer, putting the toolbox on the kitchen counter in one swift movement.

You squeaked in response, when you felt his broad chest collide with your back. Before you could lose your balance, a beefy arm pulled you back by your midsection and against his sturdy body. A hot breath tickled your ear as he growled, “Darlin’ that dress of yours, might be a tad short for what you had in mind.”

His deep, lust filled voice made you reckless so you purred right back,” Mmmh I think it’s quite perfect for what I had in mind, no?” To emphasize your point, you pushed your rear purposefully against his groin, making him growl some more. “Careful there sweetheart, once the beast is awakened, it got a hankering…and…for one thing only.” You could undoubtedly hear his cocky grin. So you playfully replied, “Oh no, we certainly don’t want that now, do we? You know what they say, about sleeping dogs …”

Following your teasing you grabbed his arm and swiftly pulled it away to be able to slip from his grasp. Striding over to the door, making sure to sway your hips, all the while stifling your giggles. When you turned around, lightly leaning against the doorway, Sy still stood unmoving, glaring at you with dilated pupils. He was sure he’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted to have you.

One more push and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. You bit the insides of your cheeks, trying to conceal the gleeful smile forming on your lips. Deliberately slow you blinked up at him, readying yourself for what you were about to do next, “Catch me if you can…” You didn’t wait for his reaction, you just bolted through the doorway and straight up the stairs.

PART 2

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Taglist:

If you're interested in being on my taglist, please let me know! And if you want to be taken off (my taglist), feel free to tell me!❤️✨

[idontknowreallywhy]

Following in his footsteps

Finished this idea off on the commute so apologies for typos, clumsy wording and for inconsistencies in the sounds Brains stutters on…

It’s a bit of a mystery as to why Scott, the first born, was named after the 4th of the Mercury Seven whose flight and piloting decisions were somewhat controversial and left him in conflict with flight control (sound familiar?). Anyway I find myself intrigued by that particular 1960’s flyboy, particularly as to one thing he did 1/3 of the way through his trip with his fuel running low…

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

“S-SCOTT C-C-CARPENTER TRACY!!!”

John later confirmed that this was indeed the first time in Tracy history that Brains ever been apoplectic enough to middle name any of them. His ire was usually quiet and dry, with occasional sarcasm. Every so often some non-vital but comfort-providing item might be removed from a Thunderbird for “essential maintenance”… the cushioning of One’s pilot seat, the power supply to Two’s coffee machine…

But generally, after more than a decade living with the Tracys, their long-suffering engineer had cultivated the talent of providing emotionally restrained feedback. Albeit there was good reason MAX was unable to mimic the phrases that were muttered over mangled landing gear, flooded engines, overstrained thrusters and the like.

This Wednesday morning, however, something had clearly pushed him over the edge.

“What did you doooo?” Alan hissed in alarm and was immediately shushed by a heavily frowning Virgil, whose fingers appeared unable to release the unfortunately tense chord he’d just leaned into. John’s hologram popped up looking serious. Even Gordon looked incredibly uncomfortable.

From the guilt-ridden look on Scott’s face, he could think of least three reasons his neck might be on the block this morning.

A tightly wound ball of fury approached the seating area and the speed with which International Rescue’s commander leapt from the couch betrayed his initial instinct to bolt from the room and never stop running. However, decades of experience of facing the music from many and varied sources meant his feet remained firmly rooted to the floor, while the rest of his body sought the security of parade rest.

Brains stood in front of him vibrating with rage. The ends of MAX’s arms were positioned at an approximation of where the robot’s hips might be. The room held its breath. Virgil’s foot remained wedged against the sustain pedal. The melodramatic chord continued reverberating around the lounge.

The engineer suddenly raised a hand and everyone flinched. Had their friend finally resorted to violence?

Scott closed his eyes and awaited whatever engineering justice was deemed merited for… whatever it was he had done.

But the shorter man’s movement as he reached up to Scott’s face was slow, deliberate and with a slight frown of concentration he stuck a 75mm square of blue duct tape precisely in the middle of Scott’s forehead.

Virgil jaw dropped and his foot finally slipped off the pedal. The dampers clunked back into place, allowing an ominous silence to reign for a few moments.

The colour coded rolls of multi-purpose tape included within each baldric was one of Brains’ affectionate little thematic touches but also acted as a crude fingerprint… blue tape could only ever have been used by one person.

The Commander’s eyebrows twitched almost audibly as he tried to puzzle out the strange sensation but his eyes remained screwed shut.

When Brains spoke it was barely more than a whisper and the brothers in the room found themselves leaning in. The brother in space appeared to have located a bucket of popcorn.

“D-do you h-happen, to know how l-long I have spent p-perfecting One’s fuel reserve s-system, S-Scott?”

Scott swallowed, hard, and opened his eyes again.

“Quite a long time?”

“Yes.”

“Ahh, did I ever thank you? I should have, I’m very sorry - thank you for that and for all your work, Brains. It really is appreciated.”

“Is it?”

“Of course!”

“Hmmm.”

Scott opened his mouth again but, accepting that his attempt to divert the conversation had failed, clearly thought better of digging any deeper until the nature of the situation became more clearly defined.

Brains’ hand lifted for a second time, another square of blue tape delicately held between thumb and forefinger. This was placed with some care on the very tip of Scott’s nose.

Alan snorted. Gordon punched him in the arm and was elbowed back. Virgil glared them into silence then nearly lost control himself at the sight of his elder brother going cross eyed in an attempt to establish what on earth he was being decorated with.

Brains spun on his heel to face the rest and they all leaned back hurriedly, feigning casual interest. Nobody wanted to appear to be aware of, to be accidentally associated with whatever crime it was Scott had committed.

“Th-thunderbird One uses t-two fuels but h-has th-th-three fuel tanks. As you all know, th-the balance of fuel t-to achieve m-maximum speed is p-precisely c-calculated and th-the system that g-governs it is h-highly sophisticated.”

Everyone nodded except Scott who was trying and failing to pretend he was unbothered by the additions to his face. His nose twitched compulsively.

“D-due to certain t-tendencies of her p-rimary p-p-pilot, One h-has a reserve t-tank. Th-that blend of fuel w-will not achieve the h-highest speeds b-but will ensure she is able t-to return h-home if a SENSIBLE…” the word was ground out as if it was painful “…speed is m-maintained.”

Brains paused. Every eye in the room shifted to Scott. Max bleeped, judgementally. Brains continued, his voice deadly calm and deeply terrifying for it.

“T-to ensure One’s p-pilot d-does not m-miss the fuel status w-warnings amongst th-the p-p-plethora of information on the h-holographic display I installed th-three LED bulbs t-to m-make it QU-QUITE CLEAR w-when l-levels w-were running low and w-when speed n-needed t-to be m-m-m-moderated in order t-to avoid d-damage t-to her supply p-p-p-p-pipeline a-a-a-and e-en-en-engines!”

Brains’ veneer of calm was cracking and Scott, who had clearly solved the mystery, appeared to be chewing through the inside of his face. Brains spun back to face the object of his wrath. MAX’s mechanical eyes narrowed.

“W-warning l-lights are only effective w-when th-they are v-visible!”

Scott gulped and fell back on the only defence he had left - he gave his old friend a dimpled half-grin and a doomed attempt at mitigation:

“They were a little… distracting?”

“D-distracting.”

The full stop was potent and echoed around them. Brains appeared on the edge of an eruption the like of which Tracy Island had never seen, even when the volcano was active. But he mastered himself and produced a final square of tape which he held in front of Scott’s face for a moment before slapping it down on to the top of his head, rubbing it slightly to ensnare as much perfectly styled hair as possible before storming from the room.

MAX remained just long enough to shake a medium-weight hydro-spanner with extreme prejudice before flouncing impressively and trundling after his master.

Alan and Gordon clung to each other, faces contorted with silent mirth. Virgil caught John’s eye then cleared his throat and appeared about to speak before being forestalled by his Commander’s raised palm.

Lacking a little of his usual gravitas due to the tape fluttering gently in the huffed breath from his nose, Scott still poured every ounce of authority he had left into an order of three short syllables:

“Not. A. Word.”

[paperclipninja]

This thought struck me while I was driving and I don't know if it's a) tenuous at best, b) me finding meaning where there is none or c) possibly a thing. So naturally I'm going to throw it out there as a possible maybe-theory/foreshadowing.

As we all know, this handshake moment in the magic shop in s2 has the sword very deliberately positioned right where Aziraphale and Crowley's hands meet and we see the three swords in Aziraphale's back as he moves forward.

And when Aziraphale walks back to the counter and Crowley turns to watch, we see three swords now towards Crowley's chest - it's nicely and clearly pointed out with pictures in this post by @newfangledfancy

As many have noted, if Good Omens is anything, it is deliberate in its choices, especially when we're looking at something as obvious as this. What exactly it means, we'll no doubt find out later, but it certainly seems somewhat ominous and foreshadowing, with the sword down the middle arguably already in play with the separation of Crowley and Aziraphale at the end of s2.

My take? The sword in the middle is the breaking our two faves apart, the swords in Aziraphale's back are an indication of betrayal by Heaven (he still trusts they are the 'good guys') and the swords to the front of Crowley, to me, is indicative that part of that betrayal will involve trying to harm/destroy/get rid of Crowley.

The 'offer' to reinstate Crowley to angel status was such utter piffle (sorry, couldn't help it) because the Metatron knew he'd never go for it, but it also served another purpose; to lead Aziraphale to think he'd misjudged the Metatron (even if Aziraphale didn't really think that and doesn't have a choice about returning to Heaven, I do think part of him still also believes the system can be changed from within).

That extremely pointed, horrible look that the Metatron shoots Crowley just before he and Aziraphale leave the bookshop to go discuss the promotion (with accompanying danger music and all), you know, this one:

reveals to us that this performance the Metatron is putting on for Aziraphale really is just that, a performance. He wants Aziraphale to think he's misjudged him, I'm sure he was hoping he could convince Aziraphale to trust him. I think the angel is too clever to fully trust the Metatron, but what it does do is maintain Aziraphale's trust in Heaven and, I believe, the possibility he could make a difference.

So why the offer that Crowley could come to Heaven too? Yes, to entice Aziraphale but also, the offer makes it seem as though the Metatron has no gripe with the demon after all. It may be 'irregular', but he was willing to let Crowley be reinstated, it puts any notion of the Metatron potentially wanting to hurt Crowley off Aziraphale's radar (at least for now).

It's interesting too, in the 1941 magic shop scene, that the swords appear to be going into Crowley only once Aziraphale has moved past him, has his back to him. If I was following the separate, betray, destroy sequence of the sword set up, then I'd take that to suggest that any move against Crowley will happen while Aziraphale has his back turned, so to speak, and can you imagine the kind of fury that would unleash in our no. 1 angel? Coz I can and it is amazing! But I digress...

While speculation is fun (so, so much fun) and all, the point, the POINT of this rambling post was to say that if indeed that 1941 magic shop sequence is foreshadowing Aziraphale being 'stabbed in the back' and Crowley attacked in some way, it's not the first time we've seen a potential nod to that.

Look it may be entirely coincidental but I have to say, there is mighty similar symbolism right back in s1 when Aziraphale and Crowley are hit with the paintballs. Where does the pellet land on Aziraphale? On his back (and how, from where he's standing? Is there someone behind him??). And where does Crowley cop the 'bullet'? Right there in the chest.

I just wouldn't put it past this show to have planted the seed that early on. And look, if it's nothing of the sort, then they're just fantastic stand alone sequences. That's the greatest thing about Good Omens, if it was a Clue, then it's amazing and if it's not, it was still amazing. We simply cannot lose.

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] Choose Your True Love: Part 1

Man with Black Hair and Red Eyes: ..............

Emma: ..............

(My legs... are trembling...)

Standing before me was a man in military uniform with obsidian-like glossy black hair and vivid red eyes.

The man, adorned with more medals than even Gilbert, looked down at me without changing his expression.

He hadn't done anything to me. Just his presence was enough to make me terribly afraid.

(He looks like Gilbert, but... the atmosphere is completely different.)

Gilbert also has a unique aura that dominates people, but the man in front of me is incomparable.

He exudes a murderous aura as naturally as breathing, blending it into the air.

I'm going to be killed. --I don't know why, but that premonition turns into a cold sweat.

(Why am I even in the hallway in the first place?)

(I was supposed to be studying in Gilbert's room.)

I can't remember how I ended up facing this man.

I don't even know if such a thing exists.

With a trembling breath, I glance away.

The man had a sword at his waist.

The obsidian-decorated sword seemed somewhat ominous, perhaps because of the smell of blood in the air.

(...I have to run away.)

Against my will, my feet are glued to the ground.

It was an unknown fear I had never experienced before.

???: What are you doing, Your Majesty the Emperor?

(...!)

Suddenly, a hand is placed on my shoulder from behind.

I flinch, but the fear clinging to the voice I heard slightly eases.

Gilbert: You two are staring at each other in the middle of the hallway.

Emperor: She suddenly appeared in front of me and blocked my path.

Emperor: I was thinking about how to kill her.

(W-Wait... Did he just say "Your Majesty the Emperor"?)

Gilbert: I see. But I'm sorry. She's my pet.

Gilbert: I forgot to put on her collar. I'll properly train her, so please forgive me.

Emperor: I didn't know you had a woman.

Gilbert: I'm at that age, you know.

Emperor: ...Well, fine. I forgive you.

Emperor: I'm in a good mood today.

The man called "Your Majesty the Emperor" left with a meaningful grin.

(His Majesty the Emperor, who destroyed many countries and killed countless people, is a bloodthirsty madman...)

(But he shouldn't be here. Because His Majesty the Emperor is...)

Gilbert: Come here.

Emma: Ah...

Gilbert grabbed my hand and started walking quickly in the opposite direction from the Emperor.

-

I was invited to Gilbert's room, which should have been familiar to me.

But I immediately felt a sense of discomfort.

(...There's a mountain of documents.)

The documents, piled so high that they seemed to collapse with the slightest vibration, asserted their presence as if they had been waiting for Gilbert's return.

(This is strange... There weren't any documents here until just now.)

Emma: Gil... What's going on?

Gilbert: ..............

Gilbert: What's wrong? Do you know me?

Emma: Huh?

Gilbert: But I definitely feel a sense of familiarity with you. That's why I helped you.

Emma: ...What are you talking about...?

Gilbert: What's your name?

Emma: Emma...

Gilbert: Emma...

Gilbert: ...Wait, Emma?

Emma: Yes...

Gilbert: Where are you from?

Emma: ...Rhodolite.

Gilbert: What's your occupation?

Emma: Um... I used to work in a bookstore.

(I don't understand. He's asking me questions as if we've never met before.)

With each answer I gave, Gilbert's smile faded and he became lost in thought.

(...Wait, was Gilbert always this young?)

(And for some reason, he seems tense.)

(Like he's on edge, or he doesn't seem to have any leeway...)

Gilbert: Could I be dreaming?

Gilbert: Why are you in Obsidian?

Emma: Why...? Didn't you bring me here, Gil?

Gilbert: ...You don't seem to be lying.

Gilbert: Tell me more.

As I told Gilbert what had happened, I realized a few things.

(First of all, Gilbert in front of me doesn't know me.)

(No, maybe he knows me, but we've never met in person.)

(And he doesn't seem to know about the Bloodstained Rose Day either.)

If the bloodthirsty Emperor is alive and Gilbert looks young, the conclusion is obvious.

Emma: Am I... in the past?

Gilbert: It seems so. Welcome to Obsidian from the future?

(I can't believe it.)

Even though it was a preposterous story, Gilbert seemed to accept it.

Emma: Gil... Gilbert, do you believe me?

Gilbert: There are many unsolved mysteries in this world.

Gilbert: It's possible that people can travel through time, even if I don't know about it.

Gilbert: The situation forces me to think that way, so there's no reason to deny it, right?

Gilbert: Besides, I can tell when someone is lying. You're not lying.

(My head is still confused, but...)

(It might be a big deal to have Gilbert on my side in this situation.)

Gilbert: However, this is a bit of a problem.

Gilbert: You... might die?

(!?)

.

.

.

. Part 2 | YouTube SE in JP

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[incorrect-riordanverse]

finally reading tsats here are my live thoughts (spoilers, obviously):

i’m so excited because some pages are darkly decorated and its so cool. still don’t vibe with the title though (the sun IS a star and its peeving me)

why are we talking about dating darth vader 😟 where are we rn (anakin is a yes, but DARTH VADER???)

maybe i’m too old but the jokes are not funny 😭

“this whole place feels like my soul. empty and dark. dark as the pit of the underworld.” <- i don’t care if he’s joking nico would never say thissss 🙏😭 we’re only 10 pages in but please stop butchering my fav character he’s not himselffff i am cringing so bad

i know i’m being dramatic but if they do nico dirty in this book i’m going to end it all

oh my god i don’t think i’ve thought about the words “significant annoyance” in so long. bringing back good memories for sure.

i can tell which parts were written by riordan and which parts were written by oshiro. i don’t think their voices are blending very well together…

also, maybe it’s because it’s the start of the book and they’re trying to familiarise new readers quickly with the characters but it feels like they’re making nico the caricature of ‘emo and shadow and ebony darkness dementia raven way 🥀⛓️🖤’ and will the caricature of ‘happy and sunshine and blonde and flower gleam and glow ☀️🌈🫧’ and i usually like this dynamic when it’s not blatantly pointed out every other page. i have faith they’ll show more complexity than this later on though. future yan will let me know by the end. (future yan here, im not at the end but the characterisation def does get more complex thank gods)

oh ok so it is bob the titan

since when was nico’s actual name niccolo??? how did i forget this detail??

“you have to listen if not you’ll share my fate.” “ominous much?” <- ok he’s finally himself again guys it’s all good

the one-sided beef nico has with percy will never not be funny

“cookie monster appeared over the mouth of the jar, reached inside and gobbled up nico like the chocolate-chip cookie he was.” <- nevermind i’ve gone back to hating this book again

“what was one straight boy when you spent your whole life longing for the impossible?” <- i’m reminded of that time a few years back where everyone made ‘having an unrequited crush on percy’ nico’s whole fanon personality, so i’m glad they addressed this somewhat. this boy has been through so much and people really thought crushing on percy was the biggest thing to focus on about ‘nico angst.’

“we made a mistake. you have to fix it.” <- call me a red flag but if i was nico i would do anything and everything to not go. i would medicate myself so highly on sleeping pills that i can’t dream (doctor bf can go kick rocks). i would track percy and annabeth down and haul their asses into tartarus instead to do it. and if i had to go i would only go in to kill bob myself for sending me those traumatic ass nightmares. no thx. bro willingly jumped in himself and now wants me to save him. nuh uh.

not cupid being will 😭 its like his aphrodite 😭 i am not well.

they always have a really good and emotionally moving scene and they ruin it with a dumb joke. let it be heavy 👏👏

something’s really fishy and i have a feeling that it might not be bob calling for him

if this whole “grumpy ball of darkness” thing continues i will actually lose it

you can’t tell me the percabeth pep talk was actually needed. i will forgive it because i miss them though

im sensing tension in the gap between nico’s connection to the underworld and his relationship with will and i’m here for ittttt. give me the dramaaa

who is the gorgyra girl and why is she in their business sm?

oh shit a will solace pov??? christmas came early 🙏

nevermind that whole nightmare sequence was so fucked up 😭😭

somebody HELP HIM i never thought we would get will angst (nico angst fs, but will???)

DONT JUMP IN THE STYX PLEASE

SOMEBODY TELL HIM HE’S HELPFUL OMG

nico strangling epiales in his sleep is so fucking cool he’s literally HIM he’s literally THAT GUY

[shleepyissleepy]

When Sweet Meets Savory

Alastor/GN!Reader

Prolouge

Content warnings: Vague depictions of violence and death.

Notes: Descriptions, name, and gender of the reader is left alone.

___________________________________________

Dropping ass first into hell wasn't exactly on today's to-do list. The last thing you remember upon waking up in the middle of a bustling, critter ridden city was that you had just gone out for your morning stroll. It was quiet out. The fog had just begun to settle in, and it seemed that the day was due for a little rain. You had plans to go shopping, tidy up your quaint little apartment, and get some chores done. Perhaps read a book or two while your record player sang sweet melodies. Yes, a peaceful, productive day was in the works, well that was, until you decided to take a detour through the trail just short of less than a mile it'd take otherwise to get to the convenience store.

Something felt incredibly off. Entering the forest opening were the trail began, and stepping past the overgrowth of weeds and roots, it was clear this area of the neighborhood didn't get many guests. Normally, it's a smooth sailing walk, besides tripping over a couple of rocks and roots, that takes less than 10 minutes to walk through fully. However, today, it seemed you had a plus one. Someone had followed you into the trail, judging by the crackling footsteps behind you. Part of you assumed they just happened to be going the same way you were, but it just felt... wrong.

Anxiety started bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. Of course, you must be overreacting, but it couldn't hurt to pick up the pace a bit. Bad move. Immediately, the steps behind you move faster, and out of reflex, you do as well, sending you to full-on sprint. Slapping branches out of your way and jumping over protruding mounds of dirt at the speed you were going, mixed with the ever-growing fear as agitated grunting and heavy steps close in behind you causes you to hyperventilate. You didn't even make it halfway through the trail when the perpetrator caught up to you, tackling and pinning you down. You wondered if anyone heard your screams, or if anyone found your mutilated body.

Well anywho, that's how you found yourself here, admist the chaos of a crimson city. Honestly, you expected more fire and pitchforks. Adapting to your new environment took some time, well okay, a lot of time. Eventually, when you stumbled upon your reflection for the first time, you had audibly yelled in shock and fell on your ass. If you had a nickle for everytime that's happened since you got here you'd have two, which is not a lot but it's funny that it happened twice. Finding somewhere to settle proved extremely difficult given the fact that it was hell and everything came with a price, whether it be in the form of an "act of service", to giving up your mortal soul... and an absurd amount of money, of course. Which was why you eventually found yourself standing at the ominous front entrance of the comically infamous in completely bombing, Hazbin Hotel.

A place meant to house and redeem sinners. To be completely honest, you knew exactly why you were here in hell, however you were not very keen on sharing that information. But maybe if you could waltz in, and give a good enough introduction to apply for a job here, you may also get to have a decent roof over your head. Now the only issue with this little plan, was that there was literally no job openings that you knew of listed here, so you had to come up with... well something. Maybe coming here on a whim was a terrible idea, or it might just be the best decision you'll ever make in your undead life. You'll never know until you open those doors.

With a sigh and somewhat confidant stance, you push open the double doors, reveling in the crimson golden glow of the hotel. Immediately you find yourself in the lobby with pointedly no check in desk. Clasping your hands behind your back, you survey the interior and notice a bar to the left of you. A cat like demon with wings is behind the bar cleaning a glass, and actively avoiding to look in your general direction, but he definitely knows you're there. Just before you can finish examining your surroundings, a cheery voice booms infront of you.

"Hellooo!" You stumble back, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. A young woman in a red suit stands before you and practically touching noses with you seconds prior.

"Oh my gosh I'm sososo sorry I didn't mean to spook you, I'm just so excited to see a new guest!" Her voice trails off in a giddy nature, her heels rocking lightly. Finally you begin to process that the princess of hell, Charlie Morningstar, is in front of you. Which of course you expected, but not quite imagining it like this. Releasing the tension in you posture you hold out a hand to shake, introducing yourself. She practically shakes your arm off.

"It's so nice to meet you, I'm Charlie Morningstar- ah, but you can just call me Charlie..." backing away with a spin, her arms reaching out beside her in a grand display.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel~!" She ends of with a sing song tune to her voice.

"Ah, it's nice to meet you as well...uhm but I'm here looking to be a guest, per say." Shit. You really didn't think this through. Also "per say"? Who says that??? Charlie laughs faintly, closing the distance once again to hold one of yoy hands in hers in a polite sort of fashion.

"Ah nonsense. Everyone is a guest here!" She tugs your hand gently but with purpose, guiding you towards the bar.

"C'mon lemme show you around, this is the baarr and the bar tenderrr.~" The demon behind the bar finally shoots you a non-committal glance before going back to scrubbing a... completely clean glass... yeeahhh. You give him a polite wave regardless and move on.

Over the course of the next thirty minutes, Charlie gives you a tour around the hotel. You couldn't help but feel charmed by her excited nature. She gushed on and on about the hotel and its goals, she seemed really committed to this place, you could practically see the sparkle in her eyes. Eventually, she got to asking you about what brings you to the hotel, your goals and such. Welp, time to bullshit something!

"Well you see, I'm here on business. I see your vision of redeeming souls, and I have an offer for you, if you're interested." Please almighty Lucifer be interested. She urges you to continue.

"I have a wonderful idea that could add some frosting to the cake, if you will. To your lessons and exercises. How do you feel about opening a library?" An awkward pause floats in the air. Charlie cocks her head slightly as she feigned a smile.

"Ah... a library?" You pat the air with your hands to wave away the tension. Internally screaming at the single braincell in your head to come up with something.

"Let me elaborate." Clearing your throat, you straighten your posture. A shiver runs down your back, and there's a dry spot in your throat. Time to make the pitch.

"With a library, guests can find themselves a quiet escape, something healthy and stimulating. Not only that, but you could utilize a library for writing and reading exercises. What's a better way to connect with people and to express yourself? I can offer poetry and calligraphy lessons, teach others to write about their experiences and through this medium, perhaps there would be a better chance to really help sinners along the way to redemption!" Slightly out of breath, you finish off with your best award winning smile. Most of that was just complete bullshitting out of your ass, but there was some truth to it. You always found comfort in setting like a library, or a cozy cafe in the hidden nook of a shopping center. Reading and writing has been proven to be therapeutic and a good medium for expressing yourself. Letting the mind wander and letting your imagination take hold of a pen- you're losing focus.

Your eyes snap back to Charlie from where they had trailed off, she stares back wide eyed. Worried you may have offended her for even pitching this ridiculous idea, you began to apologize. However you were interrupted by her grabbing your shoulders. She stood on the very tips of her toes and gleamed.

"That. is. a. WONDERFUL IDEA!" She spins you around for a moment before gushing further about all the new ideas she has for lesson plans and exercises.

After a while of banter back and forth, you were surprised and relieved to hear that you got the job. Not only that, but you were extatic to hear that you would be receiving your own room. Score! This is exactly what you needed. Now the only issue was the fact that the hotel... did not have anywhere to put a library, but that can be arranged! Charlie said she knew the perfect person for the job...

...and that was when you immediately regretted your decisions.

[heromaker-if]

do you have any other ifs that we can read whilst we wait😭😭🫶🫶

Hi anon! Thanks for the ask and your patience! 🥰

I do have some other IFs that I worked on in the past but I don't recommend playing them (I was still learning how to write at that time, so they aren't great). But if you want some IF reccs, I can recommend some IFs I've read recently.

(Sorry for the tags friends, and for the rants!)

(Released) My all time favourite is The Fernweh Saga by @lacunafiction - it's just genuinely so good and it always gives me the vibes of one of those shows you watch after dinner, that becomes part of your routine and you want to see desperately what happens after, and the characters become part of your memories, almost like people. It's just UGH such a good IF. If you like nostalgic hometown horrors, this IF is for you.

(Released) Very close favourite is Blood Moon by @barbwritesstuff - WEREWOLVES GUYS!! I've replayed this game so many times. It's one of those games that after you finish, no matter how long of a break you take from it, you always return to it. I love the "found family" of this game, even though it's not really found, it's just... family. I miss them! The romance in this story is also written so beautifully.

(Released) Another fav is The Golden Rose by @anathemafiction - it was one of my favs while it was still in WIP and after it's released I took so long to play it cause I never wanted to finish it. Like, I grew so attached to its story that I didn't want to let it go. 😭 Very well written characters and the descriptions of things, places, feelings, expressions, mannerisms, is so endearing and eye-catching, never a second where I skipped a line, I was CAUGHT. If you like a story with ominous beginnings, middles and ends, this is for you, not to mention the whole religion themes that are so interesting to dive into.

(Released) I miss this one so much but The Soul Stone War by @intimidatingpuffinstudios - there's two books out for this one already and each one is better than the previous. It's fantasy and about powers and there's a dragon lady that you can romance, and the POLY IN THIS IS BEAUTIFUL! Very soulmate-y romance and just generally captivating storytelling.

(Released) Nothing will ever hit the same as The Passenger by @the-passenger-if - there's just something so familiar, so memorable about this story. I don't think in my next lifetime I will ever forget it. It's about an eldritch horror battling with humanity and it's raw primal role as a monster. It feels short but only because you're so into it that time passes you by, but the tone and the flow of this story is very well done (as well as the characters! 🥰).

(WIP) I feel like everyone and their mothers know about Infamous by @infamous-if - but I'm going to talk about it anyways. It's a BAND IF, yes, music, yes, adrenaline, fame, and all the bad decisions that come with it. It's only one chapter out right now, but it's very worth it. I guarantee you the brainrot you will get from this game is going to consume your life.

(WIP) A somewhat popular one as well is Body Count by @bodycountgame - I haven't seen a game do the whole modern reality TV show with a tinge of horrifying brutal horror as well as Nell has, and even though it's still in its early stages, it's very well done and interesting. Lots of ROs to choose from, and genuinely funny humour to laugh about in between the crying sessions of a favourite character dying.

(WIP) Haven't heard that many people talking about this one to be fair but Chop Shop by @losergames - Also a very early stages game, but it's very adrenaline inducing and has so much potential that has me shaking in my seat. I'm already half in love with the cast and I can't wait to go need for speed and play a super chaotic individual.

Also any game by @hpowellsmith, they're amazing at creating consistent well written stories that have such great characters and even better representation. They do it so well, and I've been a fan of them for years now, definitely one of my role models!

I'm sure there are many more IFs out there that you NEED to play/read, but my mind is blank right now, and these are the only ones I could think of. I also don't have as much time to get into an IF, but I'm getting there (thinking of getting into Shepherds of Haven - which you should!)

[inkpotsprite]

YOU.

You're the motherfucker that made me cry with your awesome fics. How dare you. Jail. Jail for one thousand years.

(Tone: jokingly hateful)

Please keep writing, your stuff is really fun to read. I love seeing a fic with a somewhat crack-like premise be treated actually seriously. Death and Time are The Sillies. Love them. Please for the love of god, I need to see Bruce torture himself a little ^-^

I won't lie, I got a fright when I saw 'you' in big red letters. Very ominous. I like it.

But really, this is so sweet of you! I'm so happy that you're enjoying my story so far, even more so that you like my OC's (they are pretty silly, I can't deny it) The story was actually intended to be crack, but it was also meant to be short and sweet and we all saw how that turned out. Either way, I'm glad you like it.

Trust me, Bruce has a lot in store from him (I can't say much more without spoiling it) but yes, our resident emotionally inept Bat has so much to learn.

Thank you for sending this in! It brightened up my day 🥰

[pixies-and-poets]

Smithy Gang Headcanons

Hi, friends! I'm extremely grateful for the positive feedback on The Forging, and definitely want to write more SMRPG stuff; I've just been working on other priorities lately. However, my brain has been busy churning stuff over, even if I haven't had the time to sit down and write a story yet.

So I wanted to jot down some of my headcanons for the Smithy gang, specifically the forging order of the main members. I thought of a sequence where Smithy created each as a response to shortcomings he saw in their predecessors. This timeline will serve as a framework from which I can write future stories.

I don't think there's anything here that goes directly against canon, but I'm not as much of an SMRPG expert as I am with some other games lol, so feel free to tell me if there's some kind of Japanese-only line that contradicts me. Also let me know your own ideas if you want!! I am new to being a proper fan in this fandom :P

First, some general notes: I don't really have a good definition for who Smithy himself is, where he came from, or what his world is like, and I don't know if I ever will, since I find some degree of ominous mystery to be more interesting. Also - while I've seen the Gang described as "robots", while that may be true in a sense, I think of them more as "constructs" - I don't think they're powered by wires or circuitry or anything like that, but rather arcane magic. They are not powered by AI, even in the sense that a more nuanced and self-aware robo-sentience might be (see examples in the Marioverse: TEC, Beep-0, JEANIE), but a more traditional type of consciousness/soul that Smithy has learned to work with, as if it were yet another material. (This isn't abnormal for the Mario world, where we already have living bullets and bombs and the like- and in an ironic twist, also makes them somewhat similar to Geno, who is a consciousness inhabiting a form that would not produce sentience or mobility on its own.)

This isn't really a fic, although it's long enough to be one, lol. I hope you enjoy!

First there was Exor; but Smithy did not create him. In fact, Exor was Smithy's beloved blade, the reason for his obsession with living weapons in the first place. But Exor is a being even more ancient than Smithy, who just happened to bond with him in his lifetime. The sword can grow to a massive size, and is never truly destroyed, but will reappear and reforge itself throughout history. The otherworldly creature that attached itself to Exor and brought it to life has been known to some as the Neosquid.

Now Smithy, in a sense, was his own first experiment - gradually replacing his organic parts with malleable metal, not only to extend his own life, but to make himself more suited for a variety of purposes. This was a process that never really had an end, as he was always experimenting, creating new heads for himself. But when he was satisfied enough with his initial efforts, Smithy sought to create life in his own image, and in the image of his beloved Exor. Among other adventures, he spent time in Subcon, the Land of Dreams, studying the enigmatic nature of consciousness - at least enough so that he could harness some of its unfathomable magic for his own ends.

Boomer was the first of Smithy's prized creations (yes, because I like the idea of the one called "Boomer" being the oldest). Originally created to provide a sort of companionship to Smithy in the form of strategic advisory and being a bodyguard- and also to provide friendship, although Smithy would never admit it. Over time, Smithy became distracted with his newer and flashier works, and grew tired of Boomer's overly serious and staid nature. Though their relationship has grown distant, Boomer's fondness, gratitude and loyalty for his creator has never faltered, and he will defend Smithy to the very last of his existence. In turn, Smithy has never put forth plans for machine-made Boomers- the younger creations speculate it's because he's too outdated a model for this to be worth it, but perhaps it's because even now, Smithy considers him irreplaceable.

Bowyer was the next-forged. Smithy sought to make a commander who represented a long-range weapon, to contrast with Boomer's katana; and also a more creative and inventive personality to offset Boomer's traditionalist and unadventurous nature. When Bowyer was born, Smithy found that he had accidentally gone way too far (in his opinion) in this new direction, leading to a creation that was so erratic he refused to even speak like those around him. Smithy found Bowyer a hard-to-control troublemaker who would rarely listen to him (or Boomer) and seemed unhappy most of the time, not fitting in with the world he had been forged into. Bowyer would also leave arrows all over the place, sticking out of random things in the weapon world - this is when Smithy had the bright idea to create arrows with consciousness, so they could return to their leader on their own. To Smithy and Boomer's surprise, Bowyer became a lot more joyful and content when he met his little Aeros, and they all became an inseparable entourage.

Smithy became creatively blocked while trying to think of his next big project, largely due to the stress of Bowyer's early behavior. Instead, he came up with a number of smaller-time minions, some of which were the Shymores, based on the Shy Guys he had observed during the time he had spent in Subcon. The Shymores were a playfully destructive group, and after seeing Bowyer's happiness with the Aeros, Smithy decided to forge a creation who was destined to be a leader from the outset; and also one with a mischievous streak, yet toned down from Bowyer. And so he made Claymorton, who later called himself Mack. He was a beloved leader to his rowdy group, but perhaps too social- he ended up neglecting his own training, preferring to play and mess around with his friends, and thus never became very strong on his own.

By now, Smithy was growing frustrated by the failures and flaws that he saw in the personalities of his creations. He decided to think extra hard about the character of his next project: this would be someone who could work completely independently - brilliant, shrewd, capable of powerful magic spells and illusions. Yet Smithy made sure to write in an unflinching loyalty to himself into the new creation's code, so to speak. And lo: at first Speardovich seemed everything Smithy could have ever wanted. Proud, powerful, but knowing his place. He needed no minions, and thus was never distracted, as he could split his own form and consciousness so that one being could do the work of many. He might appear to be older than Bowyer and Claymorton, but in fact he is technically not; he was just created from the outset to be more mature, with the moustache to prove it. And yet, over time, the cracks in this personality began to show. Speary was pompous and did not get along with the other creations when necessity called them to work together. And his respect for Smithy manifested as simpering; a begging for praise and attention which the smith found increasingly unbearable. He was always coming up with unasked-for ideas and input, such as: perhaps all the machine-made units could take the name of a spear in a different language, and "speardovich" could be their overall model name, and that he quite liked Yaridovich for himself personally, and perhaps it would be alright if- but no, Smithy would have none of it. While at first he had beamed with joy at this newest creation, he soon enough kept him at arm's length (or spear's length?) as well.

Finally, Smithy hit upon a brilliant idea - his next creation would be a group of (mostly) equals who could depend on each other without a major power imbalance, keep each other entertained, and stay out of his hair. The Axem Rangers were born, all bearing an energetic and youthful personality which they are still yet to grow out of. They were given control of the Blade, and sent to scout various worlds. They often picked up slang and brought home entertainment from the places they visited, and developed a countless number of inside jokes. The other commanders, and especially Smithy himself and Boomer, found it hard to keep up with them. However, Smithy considered their existence a big success, and remained very proud of them- although this might be due to the fact that he ended up not having to interact with them that much.

...So, that's what I have for now! I'm not sure where all of the Factory enemies fit into this; based on their descriptions, I think Clerk/Manager/Director aren't creations of Smithy, but are the same species as him and recruited from his homeworld. Same with the Chief, aside from possibly not being the same species. Smaller minions like jabits and the hammers would be produced at various points that aren't super relevant to this larger narrative. Count Down was probably made as a fun side-project when Smithy wanted to take a break from weapons per se, and see what he could do with an object like a clock. Gunyolk was confirmed to be created by the Chief. And Cloaker and Domino are weird outliers; I want to say they would be among some of the first things Smithy made, or the latest, in some kind of more abstract and experimental period.

Again - let me know your thoughts and ideas!

[winwin17]

(From Shannon's Instagram, on the new cover reveal )

My humble response:

No, our Lord Hunkyhair is not looking especially hunky on the new cover. He's not bad, but he just looks a little wrong.

Yes, I am somewhat bothered that our Fearless Miss F is not on the cover. KOTLC has been hijacked by a side character, and as much as we all love Keefe, he's stealing the show by now. Hogging the narrative rather than haunting it.

Yes, the new cover is absolutely a different feel from all the others. Again, not bad, but it does make it feel all the more like we're branching off into a different story. That being said, it's kinda cool to have a different mood to the new cover art because it's set in the human world and therefore of course the vibes would be different. (However, the Legacy cover is also capturing a moment from the human world, with Big Ben in the background and all, and yet it still has that fantasy feel.)

Yes, unfortunately our boy *could* look more awesome. No disrespect to the artist, but this time Keefe just doesn't quite look like the Keefe in the other cover illustrations.

I am liking the plain, ordinary, simpler feel of the setting depicted in the new illustration since it's the Forbidden Cities and not sparkly elf town, as Ro would say. And I am liking the ominous looking hoodie guy looming in the background, and the way he seems to be aware of Keefe while Keefe is maybe not aware of him. I do think this is possibly a critical part of the story somehow.

But I'm still not crazy about how the whole cover is so Keefe-centric and the one and only Moonlark is nowhere to be seen. It's just a little sad to me, and I see it as an indication of how the focus of the plot has shifted from where it started. I'd be fine with having a Keefe short story or a Keefe side story, but he needs to quit hogging that narrative.

Okay, end of rant lol

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Thoughts on TBB 3x15

Here we go... one last time

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

Honestly thought I was going to be late to the episode but I actually work up at 8:01 am today so I am just a couple mins behind everyone else.

Am I prepared? Absolutely not.

Well that's an ominous noise. Always a good way to start 😰

The Kiner soundtrack is popping off as usual

I just need Hemlock to die

Indispensable? I'm not sure about that, mate. A lot of people have realised the Empire don't need them and I'm fairly certain you are on the list of people who can be ditched

Hahahahahaha the way the droid just starts looming behind her is kinda hilarious

OMEGA'S THEME 😭

Wrecker, bud, be careful...

Look at Omega sneaking around. She's so grown up! 🥲

ZILLOBEAST TIME

"Because that's exactly what I'd do" He's such a proud mum

THE WAY THE TROOPERS COME FLYING OUT OF THE FOG

"Clone Force 99 died with Tech`' well there goes my heart. I think this also explains why we haven't really heard the Batch theme since season 2. That theme was for CF 99 and if that doesn't truly exist anymore...

"It's what I deserve" CROSSHAIR DON'T DO THIS TO ME

"Echo's handiwork or Omega's?" "Omega's." I'M DYING

Omega's theme in this soundtrack is just 🤌

Oh great. We have a whole group of Clone Xs to contend with.

I just need all of the Batch together so that we can get the theme. I know I said earlier that we probably never got it because of a lack of Tech but I still stand by the fact that we deserve to hear it one last time.

These CX soldiers almost feel like a parallel to the Batch. One slightly larger, more hand-to-hand combat oriented soldier, one who fights with blades, a sniper, ONE WHO IS VERY TECH SAVVY 👀

WRECKER AAAAAAHHHH THIS IS NOT GOOD

NOT THE HAND

WTF?!

HELP

NO

THIS IS NOT GOOD 😰

Fuuuuuccckkk Echo's seen them down

"Causing chaos, Havoc 5?" HE'S STILL MAKING QUIPS IN THIS SITUATION I LOVE HIM

"Hey, kid. And... other kids." PLEASE 😭

"We'll meet you there" YOU BETTER DO

Echo and Omega teaming up is everything I ever needed ❤️‍🩹

Hemlock needs to die a slow, painful death

ECHO'S SPEECH FEELS LIKE THE SPEECH HE AND FIVES GAVE DURING THE ATTCK ON KAMINO I FEEL SICK

Rampart looking sus...

This feels like this isn't going as terribly as it could be and that scares me

Aw ☹️ bye, Nala Se. I never really loved you but it's sad to see you go

HAHAHAHAHA FUCK YOU, RAMPART

AAAAAAAHHHH ECHO GOT STABBED

You know what I said 2 seconds ago about it not being terrible? I think I spoke too soon...

YES WRECKER

I'm not liking the position Echo is stuck in rn. That stresses me out 😥

We're not exactly in top form but hey, an attempt is being made

ECHO BE CAREFUL

Soooo... I get the feeling CX-2 isn't Tech...

AW NO SCORCH

FUCK YES!!! Bye Hemlock 👋

THE LOOK ON CROSSHAIR'S FACE WHEN SHE HUGS HIM AAAAAHHHH

Tarkin is not going to be a happy bunny

Oop we got a Project Stardust mention

THE SHOW ENDING WITH THEM ON PABU??? LIKE AN ACTUAL SOMEWHAT HAPPY ENDING???

I'm crying

Actually sobbing

That shot of them all sat by the tree 😭😭😭

A FUCKING EPILOGUE KMN

I can't breath

SHE REMINDS ME OF PHEE AAAAHHH

GONKY!!! 🥹

OLD HUNTER?!

Omega is joining the Rebellion? 🥺

Crosshair, Hunter and Wrecker all got to live to an old age in relative peace I'm in so many tears rn

Okay but if Echo isn't with the others at this point then where is he??? PLEASE TELL ME HE'S STILL AROUND

TECH'S GOGGLES?!

I'm not okay on any level

Okay, so overall, I'm relatively satisfied with the ending. I also cried about as much as I would have done if they all died so my emotions are still all over the place. Do I think every question we had came to a satisfying conclusion? Not quite. But I think we tied up enough loose ends for me to be content.

And I'm happy they got a somewhat happy ending. Knowing that they get to live a life in relative peace makes me happy, and we know that Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair at least make it another few years. Omega joining the Rebellion also seems apt. As an Echo girly I unfortunately don't feel quite as secure with where we left off. I don't have the same level of closure that I do with the others because we know that around this point in time, he isn't with Rex. But he also isn't with the Batch either. I hope we get to see more of him in future projects because I don't quite feel satisfied with this being the end of his story. He's doing too much for it to stop there.

Also... we were wrong about Tech. The level of delusion we carried throughout this season, my god. 😭 But it means I'm confused by some of their choices. The way they focused on being savvy with technology, the way he moves being similar to Tech, FUCKING DOMICILE??? Like, they have to have known that we would all go that way with our theories so why??? If it wasn't him they why was he written the way he was? I refuse to believe everything we thought was purely out of delusion. Does this mean I have issues with the way Tech's story ended? Yes. But overall I think the show wrapped up fairly well.

I'll try and drop some more thoughts later down the line once I've pulled myself together a bit, but for now I can say that I am content. Completely satisfied? Not really, but definitely content.

[sm0lprism]

Bite-Sized (7) - A BG3 G/t fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

Read on ao3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Summary: Ria returns to camp after her terrifying encounter with the goblins. Now she has a proposition for the group regarding Astarion's feeding habits.

Pairing: Astarion x borrower!oc (Tav) (slow-burn, Astarion is a complete ass but eventually comes round in future chapters)

Warnings: Course language/swearing, blood drinking

Word count: 3.2k

By the time Ria had returned to camp, the others had also returned from their mission to the Blighted Village. She knew for a fact that she wasn’t going to mention her run-in with the goblins, and their rather gruesome demise at the hands of a certain pale elf. As far as everyone else was concerned, her walk had been pleasant and uneventful. Inhaling a shaky breath, she ambled into the centre of the camp. It still unnerved her to walk around so many giants, one wrong step from just one person would be the end for her, but this was one of the downsides she had to put up with for the time being. She could only hope that everyone would be considerate enough to watch where they were putting their feet.

“You should’ve seen the size of that spider, Wyll!” Karlach exclaimed, her clothing completely drenched in blood, her arms flapping about enthusiastically. “It was fucking massive! Mind you, I’ve seen far worse things in Avernus, but I’d never seen a spider so big!”

“It sounds like you had quite the adventure,” Wyll commented, flashing a warm smile at the tiefling. “I’m almost sad I was stuck at camp all day. I could’ve done with some monster slaying myself.”

“The spiders were pathetic adversaries,” Lae’zel said fiercely. “But their webs were most frustrating.”

“Yes, and who was it that got you out of those webs?” Shadowheart grinned rather smugly.

Lae’zel clenched her teeth, flashing Shadowheart a glowering look.

“Tsk’va! You said you wouldn’t speak of that, Shadowheart!”

Shadowheart tapped her chin with her index finger as a smirk spread across her face. “Did I say that? Maybe I was lying.”

“Do you want me to make you regret freeing me from those webs?” Lae’zel growled.

“Lae’zel, Shadowheart, please do cease this pointless quarrelling,” Gale chimed in, standing in between the two women. “There is no need for it, alright?”

“Chk!” Lae’zel hissed, curling her lip into a snarl.

Shadowheart heaved a sigh, rolling her eyes, but she didn’t make any further comment on the subject.

Now that the air had settled somewhat, Ria decided now would be the time to make her entrance.

“H-Hello everyone!” she called, waving her hands up at the giants that loomed ominously above her.

Everyone seemed to stop what they were doing and turned their gazes downwards as soon as the words had left her lips.  

Karlach’s face lit up immediately. “Hey soldier! How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well,” Ria said warmly, craning her neck to look up at the giant tiefling. “It sounds like your adventure today was successful?”

“It most definitely was!” Karlach replied, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh boy, smashing some giant ass spiders really does a girl good to help let off some steam. In my case literally.” She chuckled lightly, her infernal engine glowing orange through her red skin.

“Careful you don’t get too worked up Karlach,” Shadowheart added. “We still need to find more infernal iron to calm that engine of yours.”

“Ahh, I can’t wait until I can hug someone!” The red tiefling exclaimed. “I am absolutely dying for a hug right now.”

Shadowheart smiled softly at the tiefling woman, warmth reflected in her gaze. “I’d be happy to be your first hug once you’ve had the next upgrade from Dammon. If you want me to be your first hug, that is.”

Karlach’s eyes nearly popped out of her sockets and she had to force herself not to squeeze the half-elf into a hug right then and there. “Oh, seriously, Shadowheart? That would be amazing! You better prepare yourself; you’ll be in for the best hug of your life when I get that upgrade!”

“I look forward to it,” Shadowheart chuckled.

Rumbling tremors rattled the ground beneath her feet as Astarion approached the group. She swallowed thickly, remembering that he was responsible for saving her life only mere hours ago – as much as she hated to admit it, it was the truth. He seemed to pick up on this as his gaze briefly hovered over her small form, a rather smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips. A scowl formed across her features. She certainly didn’t need a mind-bending tadpole to know what he was thinking.

“Greetings, Astarion,” Gale said, breaking the silence. “I suppose you had a rather uneventful day?”

“You could say that,” Astarion answered. “The same can’t be said for you, it seems.”

As Astarion and Gale continued to talk, Ria’s mind was swirling with thoughts. Convincing the rest of the group to allow Astarion to feed on thinking creatures was going to be interesting, but she was adamant that this was the best course of action to hopefully control the vampire’s bloodlust. Besides, if he only fed on bandits that they were going to kill already, what difference did it make? Better the bandits than her, or anyone else in the group. He certainly didn’t deserve her kindness, but at the end of the day, she wasn’t doing this because she was fond of him or anything like that. It was for her own safety considering how adamant the vampire was on eating her.

Ria cleared her throat. “I-I have something to suggest.”

All eyes suddenly turned back to Ria as she uttered the sentence. Astarion stared at her apprehensively, narrowing his gaze at her as he waited to see what she had to say next.

Don’t worry, you massive leech, I’m not telling them about the goblins.

“Speak,” Lae’zel commanded.

She swallowed a lump that had begun to form in her throat.

“I think it’s best if we allow Astarion to feed on thinking beings.”

Ria exhaled a shaky breath, and watched as everyone’s expressions changed from curiosity to complete shock.

“You can’t be serious!” Shadowheart exclaimed.

“N-not on innocents, of course!” Ria quickly added. “Why can’t he feed on bandits that you’re going to kill? They’re going to die either way, besides, it means he’ll be less tempted to bite any of you…” She swallowed thickly. “Or me.”

Astarion’s jaw slacked open, his eyes widening in disbelief, and for once he was at a loss for words. His gaze was fixed on her in that moment, completely perplexed as to why she was suggesting something that would benefit him.

Ria shifted uncomfortably on her feet, not meeting Astarion’s gaze, as her companions exchanged confused glances amongst one another. She had to crane her neck up just to look at them, reminding her once again of how miniscule she was compared to everyone else.

“Well, I don’t see how that could be a bad thing,” Karlach said. “I mean, as Ria put it, the bandits will be dead anyway. Why not feed Fangs while we’re at it?”

“I agree with Karlach,” Wyll added. “The monster hunter in me disagrees, but I can see why it might be a good idea. Vampires are typically better sated on non-animal blood and their abilities are enhanced a great deal.”

Both Shadowheart and Lae’zel seemed somewhat apprehensive at the idea. Gale, on the other hand, was pondering Ria’s idea away in that brilliant brain of his.

“Tsk’va. I am not thrilled by the idea of Astarion biting thinking creatures, but providing they are only our forsaken enemies, then so be it.” The gith shot the vampire spawn a scathing look, her teeth bared. “And a reminder to you, Astarion, if you so much as smack your lips when I’m near, I will sever you piece by piece. I’ll leave you to guess which piece I plan to start with. Am I understood?”

“No githyanki meals, I promise,” Astarion said. “You have my word on that.”

“And I hope you extend that to everyone in the camp,” Shadowheart commented, pushing her ebony braid purposefully over her exposed neck.

“Of course, what do you take me for?” Astarion replied, a hint of irritation etched in his voice. “I have already promised not to bite any of you, unless you’ve forgotten that?”

“As he’s mentioned, Astarion has already vowed not to bite any of us,” Gale finally chimed in, reiterating the vampire’s point, his brows furrowed. “I, for one, am completely open to Ria’s idea. As Wyll said, vampires simply perform better on sentient blood. If anything, this will help him get a hold on his bloodlust, and that’s better for everyone.”

“Exactly!” Ria said. “It works out better for all of us. I’m glad you all see that.”

Astarion’s gaze flitted over Ria’s tiny form, and she met his watchful eyes with bated breath. Instead of his usual sinister smirk that often adorned his defined features, his face softened as he looked down at her. There was a gentle glimmer of something else in his eyes – something that Ria hadn’t seen before on his face – warmth. Was she imagining it? Quite possibly. Whether she was imagining it or not, it made her heart thrum against her chest and a swarm of butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach.

Wait…no…why am I feeling like this? What is this? Stop it!

“I suppose this is all settled then,” Gale announced, tearing Ria out of her rather flustered thoughts. “Astarion can feed on our enemies or bandits that we come across – providing that they are not innocents. Is that understood, Astarion?” The wizard turned to face the pale elf.

Astarion pressed one hand to his heart. “On my honour, no innocents will be hurt. I can assure you that.”

No one objected, although Lae’zel muttered a small ‘chk’ under her breath rather discreetly.

“Right, now that’s sorted, I could go for a big meal right now,” Karlach announced, flickering embers dancing across her red skin. “Smashing spiders has got me really hungry.”

“Fear not, Karlach, your chef for the evening is getting right on it as we speak.” Gale began to swiftly rummage through a bunch of packs full of food and rations.

As Gale began to prepare for the evening meal, everyone else in the camp disbanded and went to their own respective tents. Ria took this as her cue to leave as well, and began to walk in the direction of her own little tent. Every so often Gale had to enchant it with the reduce spell for it to retain its miniature size, and the wizard had assured her it wasn’t a bother for him in the slightest after she had suggested that she could just sleep on the floor. Gale was having none of that and happily kept on using magic to shrink the tent each day. She was very grateful for the wizard’s kindness and that she had somewhere catered to her own size to reside in for the time being.

As she continued to stride towards her small tent, she realised that she had forgotten to ask about joining the group when they decided to enter the Goblin Camp. She needed to know more about blood merchants trading borrowers. This was the only kind of lead she had on finding more of her kind in years, there was no way she could afford to pass this opportunity up.

That can wait until tomorrow. We’re not at the Goblin Camp yet anyways.

Small earthquakes quickly jolted Ria out of her thoughts, signalling that someone was approaching her rapidly. She slowly pivoted on her heel to see Astarion sauntering towards her and a wave of dread quickly washed over her.

What does he want now?

“Ah, there’s my little friend.”

Little friend?!

Ria’s chest tightened as she watched the pale elf drop to one knee beside her, tilting his head to one side as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

Astarion’s gaze suddenly shifted to the floor, avoiding her eyes, his lower lip quivering softly. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words uttered from his lips. This was incredibly strange for him, normally he had a witty remark for just about everything. What was going on?

He cleared his throat and fixed his red gaze onto her small frame. “I…I wanted to thank you for what you said earlier. What you just did was…unexpected. You didn’t have to persuade the others like that for me, yet you did.”

Ria’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment, completely caught off guard by Astarion’s gesture. Little did he know that she hadn’t persuaded the group for Astarion’s benefit, she’d only done it in hopes that maybe he wouldn’t keep on eyeing her up like some kind of snack. But he had saved her life only earlier that day, so perhaps a small part of her was also doing it as a way of thanks…he clearly saw it that way anyway, whether she meant it or not.

No, just ignore him.

Despite her negative thoughts, she couldn’t deny that he was looking at her differently. He seemed, for the first time since she had met him, genuine. Something about the way he was gazing at her stirred a subtle ache in her chest that she couldn’t quite explain.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” she asked, ignoring the growing feeling of warmth across her face. “You’re thanking me for something. That isn’t like you at all.”

A soft chuckle slipped past his lips. “I know, it’s very strange, isn’t it? I just…” His voice faded away. He was clearly struggling to find the right words.

“You did something nice for me when you didn’t have to,” he said at last. “And I appreciate it. Perhaps I was wrong about you.”

Now it was Ria’s turn to be at a loss for words. Her brain swirled with confusion as his statement left her temporarily unable to speak.

Is he serious?

She frantically searched his face, looking for a sign of deceit, but there was none. He was being completely honest with her and he meant every word.

“Do you really mean that?” she asked hesitantly, still not quite believing his sudden change in demeanour.

Astarion furrowed his brows. “Darling, if I wasn’t serious, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you right now.” He exhaled a long breath. “You could’ve easily ratted me out to everyone as well with the goblins, but you didn’t do that. I think we should start over.”

Before she even had time to react, Astarion extended his index finger towards her.

“Deal?” he asked gently.

Ria stared at his index finger intently as her body stiffened. She quickly glanced from his hand to his face, her heart racing feverishly in her chest. Her right hand was gripped firmly around the handle of her little dagger, concealed behind her back, and an idea pierced through her brain. No way was she letting him off that easily after everything that had happened.

Without a second thought, she lunged forwards and thrusted the dagger into Astarion’s exposed index finger.

“You little-!” Astarion exclaimed, utter shock painted across his face as he immediately retracted his hand away from the borrower.

A tight-lipped grin pulled at the corners of her mouth as she watched Astarion glare at her, trails of blood now dripping down his pale skin from the fresh wound on his finger.

“Okay, we’re even,” she grinned. “We can start fresh now.”

Astarion’s gaze softened as a smirk flickered across his facial features.

“Cheeky little pup.” He grinned. “I suppose I may have deserved that.”

Ria blinked slowly at him. “May?!”

“Fine, fine, I did deserve that.” He rolled his eyes before removing the tiny dagger from his finger as if it were nothing more than a splinter. He inspected the miniature blade for a moment before passing it towards Ria, holding it in between his index finger and thumb. She hastily grabbed the dagger from Astarion before wiping off the blood with a small rag in her pocket.

“It amazes me that Dammon was able to make a blade so small.” He began licking at the oozing blood from his finger. It oddly reminded Ria of a cat cleaning its paws and a grimace of disgust spread across her face.

“Ew, you’re licking your own blood?” she said, giving him a dirty look. The sight of blood made her squeamish.

Astarion paused his licking to stare at her, one eyebrow arched. “Darling, I’m a vampire, drinking blood is what I do.”

“Yeah, okay, but your own blood?”

Astarion shrugged. “It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.”

Ria shook her head lightly and rolled her eyes.

A small moment of silence passed. The only noise that could be heard was the sound of Gale attempting to make dinner and Lae’zel sharpening her sword. Sensing the incoming awkwardness, Ria swallowed a lump that had begun to form in her throat and began to turn to leave.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to your blood licking.”

“Wait!” Astarion said rather suddenly, lapping up one final drop of blood on his finger.

Ria paused in her tracks and blinked at him in surprise.

“I don’t want you to run off just yet,” he said slowly.

She stared at him like he had grown a second head.

“You…you don’t want me to leave?”

“You intrigue me,” he replied, a small grin curling around his lip. “For such a little thing, you are quite resilient. Facing those goblins, not shying away from Lae’zel’s battle training…the fact that you want to fight back is at the very least admirable, considering how hopeless it is for someone of your height. And then you even stood up to me.” A small snicker flitted past his lips. “I’m not easily impressed by people of your stature, but you’re a lot stronger than I gave you credit for.”

Somehow Astarion had managed to both compliment her and insult her at the same time and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

I suppose that’s about the nicest thing he’s ever said to me.

She pressed her lips together in a thin line. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

“You have your charms…more than you think.”

Ria couldn’t tell if he was lying or being serious, but she remained cautious. There was a small glint of hunger reflected in his crimson eyes which reminded her that she was in fact dealing with a predator. But...despite this, there was something else there too. Something that was mixed in with his hunger that was perhaps preventing him from lunging forward to eat her right then and there. It was the same look that he had given her before – his features had softened, the sinister glare from his gaze completely gone.

She hated how it made her chest flutter.

“You aren’t so bad yourself,” she replied.

Why in the hells did I say that!?

She forcefully bit her tongue to stop any more words from tumbling out that she might regret saying. She wasn’t sure why she had even said it to begin with, but it made her want to kick herself.

He wanted to eat me a couple of weeks ago, and he probably still does. I need to remember that.

“Well, this has turned into a surprisingly pleasant conversation,” Astarion smiled.

“Don’t get too close,” Ria said, gripping the handle of her dagger instinctively. “I’m not one to easily forget.”

His eyes crinkled as he simply chuckled at her. “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”