#but then why the rocket???? complete mystery

[coquelicoq]

drove around for nine hours today and encountered NO open strawberry stands. in full strawberry season...in farm country...on a SATURDAY. what on god's green hhhhearth

[deadsetobsessions]

“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.

The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.

“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.

“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”

“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.

“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”

“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”

“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”

“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.

“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.

“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”

“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”

“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.

“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.

“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.

“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.

“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.

“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.

“How old were you??” Duke asked.

“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”

“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”

“Sure?”

“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.

“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.

Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.

Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.

"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.

"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.

"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.

"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.

"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.

"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"

"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."

"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.

"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.

"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.

"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.

"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.

"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.

"Red Hood's signature."

The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.

"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.

...

...

...

The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.

"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.

"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"

"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.

"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."

"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.

"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."

Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.

"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.

"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"

"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.

"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."

"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"

"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."

"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.

Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"

"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."

Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.

Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.

Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.

"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."

Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.

"You won't have to leave."

"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.

"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.

"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.

"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.

Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.

After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.

[ybklix]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀

★ pairing: chris bahng & lee minho x popstar!femreader

✦𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Prima donna: someone who demands to be treated in a special way and is difficult to please.

The sweet and perverse play of a life hidden behind an acclaimed character created by someone.

Minho Lee, a frustrated young writer working in one of the most important music magazines, is about to find out what’s really going on behind the scenes of the mysterious girl everyone is wondering about.

With small steps in your career, you are discovered by a famous producer under the pseudonym CB97, whose vision of work is very specific and quite peculiar… yet you succeed in becoming a rising star, who manages to spark the public's curiosity. Hiding little secrets under the image of a mysterious internet girl with an angelic voice and face.

Once Minho is challenged to come up with a really good story to keep his job, he finds your unusual videos on the internet, wondering if he could have a chance to meet you… only to find himself with no way out, immerse in a dark world, hidden and full of beauty and desire.

♡ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, daddy kink, soft bdsm, sex toys, sextape, est. relationship, cheating, threesomes, mention of sex workers, sugar daddy, dom!chan, toxic relationship, reader is slightly a nymphomaniac (current warnings appearing in each chapter).

♡⋆˙ FIC MASTERLIST

❀ inspired by the early career of poppy, the singer and her “weird” yt videos back in 2016, electra heart by marina and the diamonds and almost famous film.

main masterlist

current warnings: daddy kink, pet names, suggestive smut.

word count: 860

♡ PROLOGUE ♡

“Perfect, beautiful, but I feel you can do better, let’s do it again just one more time” your boyfriend said in a soft tone, focused on all his recording equipment watching once more your video, you nodded determined and quickly arranged your two pigtails back on your shoulders, “In three... two...”

You went back to your role and acted according to the script previously studied to perfection written by your boyfriend. It wasn’t rocket science, your videos were never longer than three minutes, and this was one of those that came out in one continuous take, but Chris, your boyfriend, was a total perfectionist freak.

Once you heard him say “Cut,” you felt yourself breathe again and were a little tired of the bright set lighting hitting your face.

“This is the good one, babygirl, you did excellent, I just edit it and it’s done” he said, cheering you on and still focused on his computer.

You approached him, this time he was so focused on the result of the video that he didn’t go straight to you to pamper you which seemed strange to you, like something empty, you missed his affection and compliments every time you did something well, or every time you did your job well and didn't complicate it for him too much.

You admired him, his handsome side profile, you sighed, you were dying to call him by his name, but he didn’t like when you called him that at all, according to him, it was like a lack of affection towards him.

“Daddy” you tried to catch his attention, stretching his clothes a little but he was still engrossed watching every detail of your recorded video, “Daddy” you called him again in a more needy tone.

“What’s wrong little one?” he replied without paying attention to you, deftly moving his long fingers on his computer.

“Did I do it right?” you asked.

“Of course you did, babygirl, I’m almost about to post it...”

“Then why don’t you show me how much you like it?” you whined, knowing full well that tone made every part of his body tremble.

He finally turned to look at you, your expression with a slight pout, your eyes bright, it was obvious you wanted sex to which Chris smirked as he couldn’t believe you were insatiable, you had a huge sexual appetite, you could last hours and hours, round after round until he left your body completely tired, until you cried and begged for no more. But you couldn’t help it, he had made you that way, he created you, from your dyed hair, to your feet with your socks and shoes on that he chose and dressed you in them. You were all his.

For a year now, you had this kind of relationship that was a little abnormal, but you were turned on by every part of it. It was a routine you kept, but besides the sex your favorite part was making music with your boyfriend, being able to share creative ideas, and ending up completely fascinated with the great work he did with your voice.

“That’s what you want, huh, babygirl?” Chris raised his eyebrows, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth watching you with desire, making your pussy throb under his penetrating gaze, “Wasn’t the good morning daddy gave you enough for you?”

You shook energetically, your heart racing at the thought of being touched again by him, igniting in you an inner flame that could only be extinguished by reaching your so intense orgasm that your daddy always makes sure you reach.

“I want more, daddy please, don’t I deserve a reward?”

“Mmm, the video wasn’t that hard to act...” he commented teasing you a little.

“Daddy, pleaseee” you begged, you were so wet that if he refused to touch you, you’d go to your room to lock in and give yourself an orgasm, without caring about breaking one of his rules, either way a very painful but sizzling hot punishment awaited you every time you broke one of them.

“Okay, come here” Chris turned from his chair, putting his body in front of you.

You moved closer, almost in a jump of happiness, wrapping your arms around his neck, Chris wrapped his arms around your body, squeezing it and dropping his heavy strong arms in you.

“What does my princess want?” he asked, close to your lips, brushing his big nose against yours.

“I don’t know, daddy, you decide...”

Chris moved one of his hands down to your wet center, starting to stroke your clit, making you gasp and moan.

“You’re so wet... You want daddy to play with you, don’t you?”

You bit your lip, aroused, every muscle in your pussy throbbing, so needy at his slightest touch. You loved him, you worship him.

You didn’t believe that anything or anyone could break such a bond between you. He knew absolutely everything about you, or at least you were so blinded as to believe so. But trying to figure him out was a constant game that sometimes you had to lose. And gosh, you really fucking hate to lose.

[st-hedge]

I said a while ago that for totk’s one anniversary I would write a weird little review of the game in which I throw roses at it while simultaneously slandering it. So I made an attempt which is very abbreviated

Disclaimer: I’m not telling u how u should feel about totk or what’s the right way to feel about it, I’m just trying to make sense of why the game frustrates me and putting it into words. It’s completely fine if u disagree with me, I’m not pitching an argument but just putting words on paper

Totk is one of the best games I’ve ever had the opportunity to play. The mechanics, the music, the designs, the revised world of hyrule, makes me want to curl up on the floor and cry. It is stunning and done with so much love. Where botw had lacked, totk has improved and gone above and beyond. It had frustrated me that botw only allowed us to explore the ground surface, but botw was an exploration into open world games which allowed for totk to happen. The caves, the boats, the islands, and the depths add so much to already such a vast world. I only wish there was also diving but beggars can’t be choosers beh

Although it still doesn’t make too much sense to me why all weapons are suddenly corrupted, I do love the new weapons system. I love how it gives more variety to explore. Materials which previously sat unused in the inventory are now key and nothing feels like a waste to collect. Even rupees have found another use. I’m not the biggest fan of the zonai devices but the addition feels like a love letter to the creativity of the fan base and it feels at place. They help to traverse an otherwise huge and intimidating world. But at times I feel like they give too much leverage and break down too many boundaries and leave little to solve and explore. What im basically saying is fuck the rockets.

I feel that totk doesn’t have enough progress boundaries that make u pause and explore what u have at hand. I found myself just pushing and pushing, forgetting and leaving behind areas I barely touched. It felt too easy getting into the sky and returning to the islands and they lost some of their mystery to me. I think this would have been a great opportunity to reintroduce the loftwings from skyward sword. I’ve talked before about how much this would make sense for totk. The loftwings could be a means to cross boundaries and explore new territories, but it takes time to catch and tame one as a companion. But like horses they should have their limits, presenting new boundaries u need to overcome again

Where the totk’s hyrule begins to confuse and disappoint me goes hand in hand with my main issue (confusion?) with the game. Although botw felt incomplete (the world was a little sparse and one dimensional), the story was comprehensive and clear. Meanwhile, totk has a complete and lively world but it doesn’t have a story to carry

Totk’s story doesn’t have an identity I can grasp and understand. It’s like it doesn’t know what it wants to tell the player, what story it wants to direct them to. On one hand, it seems to want us to know about the origins of hyrule and the mysterious landmarks and characters that are permanent fixtures in this world (castle, ruins, dragons) but at the same time it suddenly wants to do a retelling of OoT and about the sages and these secret stones. But the game never completes any of these stories. Maybe it wants to tell us these stories through the environment, but there is just not enough embedded into the world to grasp and tie together into a narrative. Which is ironic considering how big the world is

We begin to be told the story of the dragons, we suddenly understand how they came to be (the secret stones). But we are never told about the events of their creation (an act of desperation, like Zelda’s) and we are never close to understanding them. Then we are told about the sages, but meeting them tells us nothing new. No new cutscenes, no new items or lore directly related to them. The new sages are found, but didn’t we just discover the divine beasts with them? Suddenly another layer of importance is added to them which makes the ties between legacy and the current sages muddier. I wish there had been focus on them creating their own legacy instead

I think totk could’ve had a very interesting story to tell if it chose what it wants to focus on. Maybe the secret stones were introduced just as a way for Zelda to become a dragon? I dunno

There are so many new places that feel like fantastic opportunities for moments of pause and to uncover lore, unearth memories. But instead they’re brisk puzzles or empty sites. Like the graveyard underneath the desert, the forge islands, the factories, and the fucking poe statues. Tell me as much as u want that I can’t read environmental story telling, but I’ll just keep saying there’s nothing to read into cuz the game doesn’t know what it wants to say. There’s no thread to follow in the way there was with, for example, the graveyard at the spirit temple in OoT. We could’ve been just left with a strange well and a graveyard and told to figure it out, but a thread is laid down that these are the skeletons in the royal family’s closet.

Totk does have amazing moments, like Zelda meeting her ancestors and giving up her identity to become a living legend to revive the master sword, the discovery of the ancient temples, the story of the zonai and their origins. But these are just pieces with many loose ends around them that go nowhere. Even Ganon is left as a loose end where there was so much opportunity to say something worth saying. He seems comically evil with bogstandard bah I want to rule the world lines. If u want to make a case for evil for the sake of evil, u can at least show me a character repeatedly making horrible choices which lead them to the current predicament. Just like totk’s hyrule, he is lovingly designed but he tells absolutely no story

If the reason behind the lack of story is that the devs/writers wanted us to make our own story out of this, then I think this is a case where it was a poor choice. The fans can make theories, hcs, pick up pieces and make AUs, but we also love the stories told by the games and it’s what inspires us to uncover more stories (hey wanna talk about tp and why we hear Malon’s song at night, or what’s up with the empty desert)

I’d love to see totk from the perspective of someone who had never played or known botw. Did it really help to remove any traces of sheikah tech besides the labs and the guardian limbs in the towers. Although the zonai devices and the sheikah tech are from different time periods, totk was a perfect opportunity to marry the two elements together. The shrines and the divine beasts could’ve collapsed into the depths, but instead they have just vanished like erased history

Totk’s story doesn’t have an identity in the same way botw’s does. Even though botw’s hyrule was much smaller and emptier, we found stories there cuz we knew what that game was trying to tell us. If totk is about making sacrifices, then this message feels obsolete by the end. U should make sacrifices, but u will only be happy again if it all goes back to exactly how it was before

As happy and sweet the ending is, it made all the worry and sadness I felt seem pointless cuz of course everything would reset back to the norm cuz how else would this game have a happy ending. What was there to worry about. Yeah so what that Zelda became a dragon losing herself, she was just asleep the entire time and effortlessly she becomes her normal self. So what that link lost his sword arm, of course he would miraculously get it back even though it took him 100 years to recover from a mortal wound. No trace of the things they withstood and lost, no mark, nothing.

I loved the final battle and spectacle of the dragons struggling against each other in the sky. The battle went from the deepest depths to the highest reaches of the sky and I thought it was perfect. But once again how the story concluded and the logic behind it me made me feel like I was chewing on sand and the idyllic ending just made me look about in confusion

TLDR; totk is an amazing game with a stunning world that lacks a comprehensive story to tell

I hoped that I would get a better understanding why I’m so frustrated by totk, but instead I just feel even more confused by it and I think that’s just how I’ll have to leave it

[chvoswxtch]

checkmate

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: now that frank was gone, you were left alone to your own devices. could you protect yourself if trouble came knocking at your door?

warnings: swearing, lots of angst, brief mention of bomb violence, mentions of gun violence, blood, & death

word count: 4k

a/n: buckle up, sluts (i love y'all sm). shit is about to get real. ;) but don't just take my word for it. grab a snack, a drink, & get comfy. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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9:29 pm. 

The catastrophic events of today didn’t feel like they had happened just this morning. They didn’t even feel real at all. They seemed more like glimpses of a purgatory from an alternate dimension that somehow had been implanted into your head. How had your world become so goddamn unrecognizable in less than twelve hours?

Life as you knew it had unraveled right before your eyes in one fell swoop like a cruel magician’s trick. For the first time in months, you were terrified to leave your house again, and there was a gaping pit of loneliness carved out in your stomach.

Because Frank was gone, and he was probably never coming back.

Saline seared along your waterline as your last interaction with him replayed behind your glossy eyes on a loop. He had looked so detached, the usual warmth of his brown eyes snuffed out with a layer of black ice, face completely void of any emotion like a blank canvas.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

He didn’t say anything.

Every comet that flashed across his lips at one of your stupid little jokes. Every tiny gesture that brought him closer into your orbit. Every universe you discovered when he revealed more and more coveted constellations of himself to you. The asteroid he threw with his fists at the bar that night. The rockets he was always ready to launch on your behalf. The way all the planets had aligned just right when he glided with you around the dancefloor made of the stars.

All those intimate moments you carried around in your heart like a locket meant nothing to him.

You had only ever been a job to Frank, and that epiphany broke something inside you that you didn’t think could ever be fixed.

Sitting at your dining table staring off into the void of silence, it felt like you were wandering aimlessly through an abandoned forest in your mind. When was the last time you had felt so…lost? It was difficult to navigate a path when your whole world had been flipped upside down, right as you were ascending to the peak above the clouds. 

Ellison had politely demanded you take a few days off, or work from home, until there was a plan of what to do next regarding your safety. He didn’t know the details of why your security detail had been pulled, but the absence of Frank’s shadow was unmistakable. It was a glaring vacancy not even the darkness could hide. Coupled with the intense gloom of dejection lingering on your face and the desolation melting from your eyes, it wasn’t a hard mystery for him to solve.

Covering your face with your palms, you suddenly felt like a little girl again, hiding under the blankets and covering your eyes to hide from the villainous shadows that lurked in the corners of your room. You remember thinking that if you couldn’t see the phantoms, they couldn’t see you, and then they couldn’t hurt you. 

That logic made sense in your head at the time. Before you learned that monsters are real, and they don’t go away when you hide behind your hands. 

The sharp sound of clamorous repetitive knocking against your front door echoed through the quiet and caused you to jump with a noise of surprise. Glancing over at the clock on your microwave, your brows knit together in confusion as you read the glowing digital numbers. 

10:31 pm.

A second round of impatient knocks had you slowly rising from your chair, tip-toeing around the corner towards your front door as noiselessly as you could, not wanting to alert anyone on the other side of your presence. Leaning up to peek through the peephole, the perplexity weaved between your brows only grew seeing two officers standing outside your door. 

Despite the advice from your gut, curiosity got the better of you, and you unlocked the two locks in place, twisting the knob on the door to pull it open slowly. 

“Can I help you?”

The first officer straightened up when you opened the door, placing his weathered hands on his belt as he eyed you up and down in a way that had discomfort blooming in your lower stomach. 

“You Y/N Y/L/N?”

Glancing between the icy gray eyes of the first officer and the sharp aquamarine of the second, your grip on the door knob tightened slightly.

“I am. Who are you?”

The second officer folded his arms over his chest, peering right over your head like he was searching behind you for something, or someone. 

“I’m Officer Walker, this is Officer Cavella. You uh, home alone?”

Something in your gut was setting off all the warning bells and alarms in your brain. The way Officer Walker tilted his head to the side with an ominous twinkle in his eyes, and the slight mocking tone you detected in his voice made you feel like he knew that answer already. Beside him, his partner was still attempting to scope out your place over your shoulders. An eerie feeling crept up your spine, and you pulled the door slightly shut, only leaving it open enough for your frame to fit through as you attempted to keep your voice calm and unaffected.

“I’m sorry, what’s this about?”

Officer Cavella chuckled lightly as his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, taking a bold step forward and gesturing towards you with his hand, a large Cheshire grin on his thin lips.

“Don’t worry, princess. We’re here to keep you safe. Just gonna take a look around for any trouble. Wouldn’t want anything happening to you, now would we?”

The pet name he used made your skin crawl, and you detected that same artificial sympathy that had come from his predecessor. You felt like a lamb staring down two wolves with their fangs bared in sinister smiles.

“I…think there’s been some confusion. I already have protection-”

“Had protection. After that bomb fiasco yesterday, you’re not under Anvil’s wing anymore. Right?”

Officer Walker lifted his thick brows in question, a saccharine smirk on his lips, once again daring you to challenge the answers he already seemed to have.

How did he know that? Hadn’t Billy told you Homeland was keeping the details under wraps? That the attack was reported as an accident?

An icy sense of unease caused goosebumps to prickle along your skin. There was only one way either of them would know about the bombing yesterday, and it had your heart thrashing against your ribcage furiously.

“Mr. Russo arranged alternate protection for me already.”

“They running late or something?”

Officer Cavella quipped, cocking his head to the side in an imitation of concern. But the wild look in his piercing eyes gave away his real candor. He took another daring step forward, breaching the boundary of your personal space, and bared his teeth in a crooked grin.

“Tell you what, why don’t you let us take a look around while you wait for them to show up. We can keep you company. Wouldn’t be right to leave a scared girl all by herself-”

“I’m not scared.”

The harsh edge to your voice had the pleased smirks dropping from both their faces, and you could visibly see their patience running thin. Pursing your lips, you attempted to rain in your hazardous temper before it could spark a situation you couldn’t handle alone. Clearing your throat, you brushed a piece of your hair out of your face with your finger as you focused on keeping your voice at a civil decibel.

“Listen, I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine. I don’t need either of you. Have a good night.”

A thick boot wedged itself between the frame and the door, preventing you from shutting it, and your eyes widened slightly when Officer Cavella braced his palm against the door, exerting a show of strength in forcing it back, and you along with it.

“Sorry princess, but we got orders.”

Your lips parted slightly in surprise at the intrepid intrusion, but his words piqued your interest, and your eyes narrowed slightly as you stared up at him.

“Orders from who?”

Officer Walker took a step forward and placed his arm in front of his partner to halt his movements, flashing him a warning glance before flipping a charming smile onto his lips when he turned his attention back to you.

“You know, this will really go a lot smoother if you just cooperate and do what you’re told.”

That one sentence nearly paralyzed you with dread that spread throughout your entire nervous system, threatening to shut it down completely. A sobering thought flickered in your head that if you didn’t play this smart, these men might kill you, or worse. Glancing between them frantically, your mind fought through the cortisol pumping furiously through your bloodstream, and you quickly started to formulate a plan.

Both of these men were far larger than you, and you didn’t know any self defense. They were without a doubt faster than you, and even if you made a run for it with a headstart somehow, they would catch you. You couldn’t fight, and you couldn’t run, which only left you one option.

Do your job. 

Treat this like any other investigation. 

Play your role, get your answers.

Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you forcefully swallowed your inner combative nature, slipping into a more appeasing version of yourself as you looked between them with a tired smile.

“Can we…start over? Today has been so hectic…and with everything going on, I’m just super on edge. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to take that out on either of you. I apologize. I…appreciate you looking out for me. Please, come in. Can I get either of you some coffee?”

The tension that had been lingering heavily in the space like a suffocating layer of smoke seemed to slowly disappear as the two men exchanged a glance in a secret language you couldn’t understand, turning to face you with their previous artificial smiles plastered on their thin lips.

“Coffee would be great.” 

Officer Cavella had a sickly sweet tone to his voice, and the pleasure in his eyes from your submission turned your blood into molten lava, but you fought to keep your composure, reminding yourself that your life was potentially on the line. 

On the way to the kitchen, you elusively swiped your phone and hid it behind your coffee machine, subtly pressing record on the voice memo app that was on your home screen. Once their coffees were done brewing and the machine was no longer making noise, you cleared your throat and began your interrogation.

“So, you guys must be pretty relieved huh?”

Officer Walker perked up at your words, the hand that was lifting the coffee mug to his mouth pausing in midair. He glanced at his partner curiously before looking back at you from his spot at your dining table.

“About what?”

You feigned confusion as you glanced between them with a light smile on your lips. 

“The evidence that Homeland found? Mr. Russo said they found something in the bomb fragments. It’s a really good thing Mr. Price had already checked out of his hotel room. He got lucky.”

“Looks like that pretty boy doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. Wasn’t Price’s hotel room that got blown up. It was one of his escort vehicles.”

For someone that was completely giving himself away, Officer Cavella looked thoroughly pleased with himself. He seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to indirectly insult your intelligence, but he didn’t realize that by trying to prove his superiority to you, he was feeding you everything you needed to confirm your suspicions.

Conveying an expression of mock horror on your face, you braced one of your hands on the counter, placing the other dramatically over your mouth.

“I…I must have misheard him then. I-Oh my God, that’s…terrifying. I couldn’t imagine…knowing I was in danger like that.”

You pretended to shudder, leaning your back against the counter as you shook your head slowly and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Well, despite how it happened, I’m just glad they were able to pull those fingerprints from the fragments.”

“What?”

Officer Walker’s face was twisted up in puzzlement, but there was a specific emotion pooling in his eyes that caught your attention; fear.

“Yeah, I mean…they’re partials, but Mr. Russo said Homeland was pushing them through every database for a match. Didn’t they tell you that?”

Officer Cavella leaned over the dining table as he stared at you in almost a glare, his teeth bared more in a subtle snarl than a smile.

“Didn’t who tell us that?”

“Homeland. They sent you, right?”

Cocking your head to the side slightly, you attempted to feign innocence and perplexity.

“Russo sent us.”

Furrowing your brows slightly, you looked over at Officer Walker and let out a soft laugh with a shake of your head.

“He doesn’t have that authority. He only hires private contractors.”

“He put in a special request with our Captain.”

Officer Walker seemed to speak almost through gritted teeth, a light layer of warning laced through his quick reply to your incessant interrogation, but his patience was far more intact that his partner’s. 

Officer Cavella was the one you could get to break, and you knew just how to get him to shatter.

Aim for his ego. 

Letting out a soft hum in acknowledgment that you allowed to linger for a moment, you turned your attention to Officer Cavella, meeting his predatory gaze with an expression of indifference tied with a smile. 

“You know, it actually makes sense that Homeland didn’t tell you. They don’t usually share information with anyone that doesn’t have the security clearance. I guess you boys aren’t high enough up the ladder.”

You could tell by the look in his eyes that your playful jest struck a nerve exactly as you had intended. The skin on his knuckles turned stark white from gripping so tightly onto the ceramic mug, and his jaw was clenched so hard, you thought he might crack his own mandible. 

“I guarantee you we have more clearance than some gossip magazine writer.”

“Newspaper, actually. And investigative journalism, not gossip. You’d be surprised at the kind of clearance I have.”

Although you knew it wasn’t wise to inch closer towards a firecracker that was dangerously close to exploding, you were too fucking close to a lead that could expose these assholes; the first one that had been discovered in months. You couldn’t shy away now. 

The fractures in Officer Cavella’s resolve were already starting to spread like an intricate labyrinth cracking through glass. You just needed to apply a little more pressure to get him to implode into guilty fragments. 

Waving your hand dismissively in his direction, you glanced around your kitchen with a content sigh before facing him with an arrogant smile.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter who really sent you. They’ll have those full prints in just a few hours, and this whole thing will be over. Those cowards will finally go down, and I can’t fucking wait to cover the trial.”

There was an extra bite to your tone as you emphasized the word coward, and both of them instantly sat up straighter with squared shoulders. The neutral expression of innocence was still coveting your features like a mask, but the edges were steadily beginning to rip. 

All at once there was a quick shift in the room and an unspoken aura of understanding between the three of you was swiftly forming over all of your heads like a raincloud. They suddenly seemed to sober up to the motion that you were playing them like pawns.

“There won’t be any prints.”

Officer Cavella seemed to be vibrating with anger, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Officer Walker reach to his hip to place his hand over his gun. There was a very real chance that you were about to die, but it didn’t matter. 

Because you would fucking win in the end.

You just needed one of them to make that last, foolish move across the chess board.

One final move to win the game.

“Why not?”

There was no reason to bother hiding behind a facade now. That mask of innocence had been ripped wide open, and even though your hands trembled with fear, your jaw was set in defiance. Your voice was firm and accusatory, daring him to prove his “superior” intelligence to you again. It was incredibly ironic he was being outsmarted by being so fucking stupid.

As you stared Officer Cavella down in a glaring challenge, you waited for that spark to reach the edge of his temper.

And the explosion was glorious.

“Because we don’t use our bare hands you stupid bitch. You think we’re that dumb, we wouldn’t use gloves?”

Checkmate.

Officer Walker slammed his fist down on the dining table in complete frustration towards his partner.

“God damnit Cavella, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Cavella rose from his chair so fast that he knocked it backwards, glaring between you and his partner as he pointed an angry finger towards you.

“You think I’m gonna let this whore talk to me like I’m fucking stupid-”

Walker stood to his full height quickly, shoving his own chair back as he got in his partner’s face and jabbed his finger into his chest. 

“You are fucking stupid! You just sold us out because you can’t control your goddamn temper!”

Cavella shoved his hand away in frustration as he scoffed, gesturing towards you again.

“Whatever, we’re gonna kill the bitch anyway-”

“No. He wants her alive. If we bring her back with one scr-”

“Who?”

Both of them turned to face you as your voice rose in volume to cut above their bickering. There wasn’t a single cell in your body that wasn’t infected with anger, and you were struggling to contain your own rage.

“Who wants me alive? Who’s the fucking pussy behind the curtain leading the rest of you around?”

Cavella swiftly pulled the gun from the holster on his hip as he took a step towards you, cocking the hammer with his thumb while snarling at you.

“Keep running that fucking mouth of yours and you won’t get to solve that mystery, Nancy Drew.”

As you went to retaliate, you noticed a shadow flash past the window in your kitchen, and your brows knit together in confusion. You were too pissed off to even be afraid as you glanced between Cavella and Walker.

“Who’s outside?”

Walker instantly stilled his advance at your words, his grip tightening on the handle of his gun that was still tucked into his holster while looking over at you in skepticism.

“What?”

“I just saw someone outside. Is that your fearless fucking leader? You gonna show your face like a man?! Or hide in the dark like a fucking p-“

Walker tugged you backwards roughly by your arm when you went to storm towards the window, clamping his hand tightly over your mouth to cut off your furious yells. His icy gray eyes were wide with apprehension as he hissed.

“Shut up. No one is with us.”

Glancing over at his partner, he silently motioned with his head towards him to go investigate. Cavella slowly began to approach the window with his gun in his hands, loosely aimed at whatever target he was about to discover. 

All of a sudden the sound of shattering glass pierced the silence, and your eyes widened seeing a metal canister rolling against the tiled floor of your kitchen. It exploded into a thick fog of ivory smoke that steadily began to fill the small space. Cavella began firing blindly through the gaping hole in your window, and you took the opportunity to run while Walker was distracted and yelling at his partner. 

You could hear Walker’s heavy footsteps pounding on the floor behind you, yelling your name, and you screamed when a bullet whizzed by your head and punched through the drywall in front of you. 

The second you reached your bathroom, you attempted to slam the door shut, but Walker caught the spine of your door and wedged it open with his hand. Turning around, you forced all your body weight back against it, struggling against his dominant strength. Glancing around in a frenzy, you reached your foot out towards the counter of the sink in front of you, and with a surge of adrenaline, you let out a feral scream as you shoved both of your feet forward against the sink to give you momentum against the door. A satisfying crunch sounded in your ears as Walker howled in pain and retracted his broken hand, causing the door to finally slam shut behind you. You swiftly twisted the lock into place on the door before backing away.

The sound of bullets raining down in rapid succession had you covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut as you attempted to breathe. Your lungs burned from running as fast as you ever had in your life, and with anxiety overflowing in your bloodstream, you were on the brink of hyperventilation. 

“Who the fuck are y-”

Bang bang.

The echo of two bullets cracking through a skull you could only assume belonged to Walker had your breath hitching in your throat. Muffled through the sound of your own labored breathing, you could hear his body drop to the floor just a few feet away from the door with a heavy thud. Your eyes went wide with terror as the thundering roar of heavy footsteps began to slowly strike closer and closer outside the door.

No. 

This isn’t how this ends.

This is not it.

Eyes frantically darting around your bathroom for something to use as a weapon, they landed on the horrified reflection of your own face. There was a small cut above your eyebrow from where a shard of glass had nicked you that was actively bleeding. Your pupils were completely blown wide open with hysteria, and your waterline was shimmering with unshed tears. You hadn’t seen yourself look this small and broken since you were a child.

Without thinking, you smashed your fist against the glass, sending hazardous shards falling into pieces in the sink like shiny raindrops. Grabbing the biggest one, you didn’t even flinch when it sliced deeply into the meat of your palm, and you only sent the jagged edge further into your skin as you clamped your fingers around it tightly, slicing them in the process. Your brain barely registered the warm, wet feeling of blood starting to cascade from the wounds on your hand, dripping onto the floor below you steadily like a leaky faucet.

Staring at the door in front of you in complete terror, you held the makeshift weapon out in front of yourself. The way the lights above you caught the reflection of the glass everytime it shook in your hand caused spheres of white to dance along the bathroom walls, as if there were a mirrorball on the ceiling.

As soon as the threatening shadow appeared right underneath the door, you willed the last shard of strength in your body to take over.

“Stay the fuck back! I have a gun, and I swear to God I will shoot you!”

Panic trembled in your voice almost as much as it did in your hands. On the other side of the door you heard a faint rustling noise, and then there was a gentle tapping of knuckles quietly knocking against the wood, accompanied by a voice you would recognize anywhere.

“Sweetheart?”

tags: @twoshields @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Would you write for the M6 with an MC who's touch-starved and craves affection? Thanks in advance!

The Arcana HCs: M6 with a touch/affection-starved MC

Sequel is here! M6 with an MC who's been bottling up their affectionate tendencies

~ honestly I don't know why I didn't think of writing this one sooner, these kinds of headcanons are always my favorite to read and now I get to write some! many thanks @lemon-len ^.^ ~

Julian

If you think he didn't notice the way you melted into his touch when he healed you of that vampire eel bite that first night, you are wrong

He totally noticed

Most of it he chalked up to chemistry, but it definitely piqued his interest

He's also a champion at writing off his own impact on people, so the whole time you're unraveling the mysteries of the Red Plague and stealing moments with each other he's assuming it's the adrenaline high

It doesn't become apparent to him until after, when he's checking over all the bumps and bruises you've accrued, that he sees the way you lean into his touch

He's told you he loves you, and he knows you love him too, so he doesn't have to be hesitant (though really, when was he ever?)

Now he's folding you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as snugly as he can and tucking your head under his chin

You're all surprised and tensed up at first, until he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head and you melt

He can feel the tension draining out of you and the way your fingers are tying themselves into the back of his shirt, and how you're burrowing into his chest

He's always been "too much" in his relationships as to how much physical touch he likes to initiate, but now he's found someone who wants what he has to offer and it's the person he's promised his life to

You can fully expect him to make you a solemn vow to never let you go uncuddled again

If you thought he was already generous with the PDA, it's about to get waaay worse

Asra

In case it's not obvious, their love language is touch

One of the hardest parts of hiding his affection for you those three years was not letting himself touch you

They already knew it was something you craved, it was obvious when they were your caretaker

But the first time he pulled you into a pillow pile with him to snuggle the familiarity of it rocketed you into inhuman levels of pain, and he wasn't going to risk that again

Once it became clear that you had grown enough to learn about the past and accept their affections, it was on

You have five minutes? cuddle time

There's a seat next to you? He's sliding into it and falling into your lap

You're walking by while he's sitting down? They're pulling you into their lap

You're getting ready for the day? He's doing your hair

You're having a conversation with someone that they're not a part of? They're standing behind you with their arms around your waist and their head on your shoulder, letting you take their weight

He has been known to fall asleep on you in public like this, most notably in the town square during a royal proclamation

If you're each doing your own unrelated tasks, they're either sitting beside you with your knees touching or behind you so you can be their backrest

He also knows how people tend to associate the feeling of different clothing articles with the people who wear them

So anytime they leave the shop while you're asleep you can expect to wake up wrapped in one of their shawls

He fully expects you to let him take your clothes with him on long journeys too, which is fine for the most part except for when it's one of your favorite pieces (you still want to wear that!)

Nadia

Her favorite way to love people is to provide for them

It demonstrates her commitment to being an important pillar in your life for you to lean on

Which is why she is completely tuned in to picking up on any of your needs, so she can satisfy them

So she figures out early on that physical contact is a desired and effective method of showing affection to you, but she can't figure out why you never ask for it

She guesses this could make a fun game, so she tries holding back a little and waiting for you to initiate

And then she watches you slowly withdrawing for a whole day, the confidence you always show in her is wavering slightly, and by the time dinner rolls around you're picking at your food with a face full of hurt and confusion, but you haven't said anything!

That's when it clicks for her that there could be another layer to this

Maybe one of the reasons you cherish affection so deeply is because you know what it's like to live without it

Now she's bodily lifting you out of your chair and dragging you to a more secluded spot to make up for her mistake

She feels awful, she should have known not to trifle with depriving you of something that obviously meant so much to you

She has you reclining in her lap, insisting on feeding you your dinner and apologizing for making you worry

Words are very important to her though, so she's going to ask as many questions as you're comfortable with answering about why you don't ask for affection and how to help you get there with her

Now she checks in with you every day by taking both your hands in hers and not letting you go until you've requested some gesture of affection from her

Muriel

He is so generally touch-averse that it took a long time for him to feel comfortable with giving or receiving any kind of physical affection

This didn't bother you too much until your trip south into the tundra

Because it was so cold down there you were incapable of keeping yourself warm at night, and needed to share a blanket and sleeping space with him

Oh my, that did things for your heart

Every night for several weeks you got to finish a day of uncertainty and training and exhaustion by sliding your back right up against his and melting in the waves of body heat he produces

It got easier as he relaxed around you, sometimes you'd wake up to his arm slung around you in his sleep and then you'd happily suffer through Morga's unimpressed stare as you savored the moment

But he was still so self-conscious of how big and intimidating he was, and you were still too hesitant to initiate contact whenever you wanted it, so things stalled for a bit there

You also have to be careful navigating his own relationship with his body

He's got so much trauma from the physical pain he was put through and the deprivation he endured that he's still learning how to taste the food he eats

Eventually you're able to ask him why he doesn't want to touch you, to which he responds that he's not used to touching someone without hurting them or them being afraid of him

It's progressing slowly, but now you have permission to initiate or invite cuddles, and it's changing the world for him bit by bit, because you're showing him that his touch can be a good and precious thing

Portia

She notices how much you love it when she touches you, but she doesn't really get why it's such a big deal at first

She grew up with a sibling and a grandmother and a town of friends and she does manual work elbow-to-elbow with a multitude of palace servants, touch is normal

Until she's sneaking another chapter of a favorite novel and encounters a character for whom touch is not normal

And now she's drawing connections between you and the character, is this why you relax as soon as she puts her hands on your face or your whole body sags when she hugs you?

She can't imagine a life without hugs and tussles and elbows to the ribs and tripping over other people's toes

As soon as you're both back in the cottage that evening she's pulling you onto the couch with her for cuddles

She's telling you all about the book character and listing all the ways you're similar to them, how you don't touch people often but you melt as soon as somebody does, how the character was that way because they weren't used to being touched

Was it the same way for you? Who gives you hugs? How many hugs did you normally get? Did you also get locked in a tower and use glass slippers to climb a beanstalk out?

You're surprised by the onslaught of questions, but her tone is purely curious and slightly concerned, without an ounce of judgment

Once you tell her more about why you crave affection so much she's determined to give you as much as you can handle

This is her partner in crime, her ride or die, you have always had her back and she is going to watch yours

Besides, she thinks you're the most attractive human to walk the planet, who wouldn't want to cuddle you for hours?

Lucio

He clued in faster than you expected him to

He's not very emotionally intelligent, but he is physically intelligent

He grew up in a warring tribe and spent his youth as a mercenary, interpreting people's body language for strengths and weaknesses is second nature

So here you are, dragging him through mystical realms he's completely vulnerable in, and he's watching you like a hawk

And he picks up on it quickly, any time you two make casual physical contact your guard slips a little

At first he's thinking of ways to use it against you, but your charm gets through to him fairly quickly and he never acts on it

It's the night you spend in the labyrinth that settles his doubts for him

You're stumbling every few steps but you're too hyped up to rest, until he sits next to you and pulls you into his side

He watches the way you tense and then completely relax, falling asleep on his shoulder while he's still holding an open weapon in one fist

He's briefly wondering if he'll have to make a habit of this, pausing everything to guard you so you can sleep

And then he's getting an emotional punch to the gut by feeling just how much trust it takes for someone like you to fall asleep on someone like him

He can't remember the last time somebody trusted him at all, much less this completely

By the time your eyes are fluttering open he's decided he'll be willing to keep watch while you sleep as often as you want him to

He's not shy about showing affection at all, so once you two save the world and start your new life together you can expect to receive some kind of physical affection several times a day

(an extra note from brainrot - this prompt has me inspired for a second one, which would be the M6 with an MC who has a lot of affection to give, but has been bottling it up and is just now getting to share it with someone who wants/appreciates it. Would anyone like to see that?)

[pastshadows]

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 9: Midnight Masquerade

Summary: After a year of blissful cohabitation, Astarion disappears without a trace, leaving behind a heartfelt letter explaining his departure. Determined to find him, you traverse Faerûn in search of your lost love, only to realize that some absences are meant to be permanent.

Returning to Waterdeep, you find solace in the company of Gale as you come to terms with Astarion's absence. But just as you begin to heal, Astarion reappears, begging for a second chance at love.

The question looms: can you forgive his abandonment and trust him once more? As you grapple with your emotions and trauma, a sinister force lurks in the shadows, targeting you for unknown reasons.

With danger closing in, you must navigate the treacherous waters of trust, love, and betrayal to uncover the truth behind the mysterious entity's motives. Will you be able to reunite with Astarion while facing the demons of your past? Can you unravel the secrets that threaten your very existence?

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 6.8K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.]

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Sexual Assault [Implied/attempted sexual assault: Chapter 7]. Past Trauma. Murder. Death. Longing. Sexual themes. Smut. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions. Panic attacks. Anxiety.

Your eyes creep open when you hear the softly shutting door. Pushing yourself up, you smile while watching Astarion remove his coat, unbutton his chemise, and place it aside as shadows from the withering fire greet his pristine ivory skin.

“You’re gawking.” Astarion tsks with an endearing, lop-sided smile.

“Yes,” you smirk, drawing your lower lip between your teeth, “I am. Please continue undressing until you're bare.”

“Bold tonight, darling. Very bold.” He grins while removing his trousers and sits beside you on the bed, kissing your cheek, “I’m sorry I woke you. It seems I am out of practice.”

You give him an inquiring once over, “How did hunting go?”

No. Not out of practice. Hungry.

Astarion groans, rubbing his face, “Either I am truly not as subtle as I believe myself to be, or you know me exceptionally well.”

“A bit of this and a bit of that. Would you like to dine together?”

Astarion sweeps some stray strands of your hair behind your ear. His finger trails over your jaw and down your arm, “I can go a few more days.”

Rolling your eyes with a huff, you jostle him, “Foolish man.”

Astarion pulls you in and wraps his arm around your waist, pinning your back against his chest. You gasp as the temperature contrast sends shivers rocketing like a bolt of electricity down your spine while pulling your hair to the side and bearing your neck to him.

He kisses your shoulder, fingers ghosting up your stomach and between your breasts, “You like it when I feed on you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” your voice quivers with excited anticipation.

“Why is that?”

For a moment, you feel shy and become annoyed at yourself. You were never shy, not in general and certainly not with him. You’ve always been confident and unashamed - until he left.

“You know why.”

He mumbles against your neck, “I want to hear you say it.”

“It’s intimate - for me, at least.” You pause to quell the wave of embarrassment that heats your face. “It arouses me.”

“There’s my girl.” Astarion coos, pulling you tightly against him to hold you steady, “Ready?”

Astarion’s silken lips slide over your neck as he searches for the vein. He’s quick when he bites, so the sharp sting of his fangs puncturing the supple skin of your neck dulls to an icy throb promptly, and he draws liquid life leisurely in deliberate increments. Such an odd feeling, like being split in half; one part of you is corporeal while the other is a peaceful rain, drizzling and scattering through his veins as your souls intertwine, welcoming each other home. You relax into him with a sigh, and he groans against your neck blissfully.

You’re pleasantly lightheaded when you feel Astarion buck his hips, pressing his erection against your back, and he removes his fangs from you with care. His tongue flits against your skin to catch any residual blood as his thumb traces the contour of your breast.

“Delectable, as always,” he purrs near your ear, “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you breathe huskily.

“It’s intimate for me, too,” he whispers, guiding your eyes to him gently. The scarlet pools shimmer as if made from stardust, immersing you in the cosmos, “Only with you.”

“And arousing?” You giggle, the faintness loosening your tongue.

He smirks and grinds his hard length against you, “Exceptionally. I thought that was obvious.”

You grin, “I wanted to hear you say it.”

“Lippy as well as bold tonight.” Astarion sucks on your lower lip, “I want to hear you cry my name.”

Hells. Yes. Yes, please.

He teases your nipples into peaks and sweeps the pads of his fingers against the sensitive tips, making your body twitch. Heat rushes and swells between your thighs as your heart rate climbs, seemingly skipping beats. Astarion’s fingers brush down your stomach to your hips, guiding them in little rolls against himself, and he growls low in his chest. His kiss is insistent and eager, tongue exploring your mouth with a passionate zeal that makes your core clench involuntarily.

Your ability to reason is quickly deteriorating, siphoned away as he dominates your senses. His fingers tentatively whisper over your sex, and your hips jerk up toward his hands, beseeching him for relief.

“Good Gods, you’re beautiful,” his voice husky and rich. “You’re wet.”

Be bold.

“Astarion,” you pant barely above a whisper, batting your eyelashes at him, “I’m soaked, nigh on dripping.”

“Yes, my sweet,” a corner of his mouth lifts in a smug smirk. “Look down. You have made quite a mess of my lap.”

Astarion’s fingers find your chin, and he gently directs your gaze down. Evidence of your arousal shines sleekly on his legs.

Your cheeks feel feverish, but you shore up your resolve to be brave, be you, “I’m not sorry.”

“Nor should you be. The way your body responds to me is unparalleled praise. I adore it.”

You watch as his fingers part your folds, easing the fiery heat between your legs. You sigh with a shaky breath, all your nerves humming, and your body trembles with the potency of your longing. Slipping your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck, you silently implore him to keep sinking you into serenity.

Astarion rubs languid circles around the border of your aching clit, causing your body to shudder with delight and your hips to buck viscerally, matching his movements. You stifle a moan as he rubs and sweeps his fingers against your sensitive bud, swollen with need, making you spasm, yearning to be filled. Gods, you’re a convulsing mess in his lap, writhing under his touch.

“You want to be filled by me.” Astarion growls provocatively, his chest rumbling. It’s not a question and doesn’t require an answer. He is simply stating a fact. “I want to taste your desire. May I?”

“Yes,” you whimper, a plea upon your lips.

“Can I trust you not to scream?”

Any reserve or shyness you might have had has been devoured by the untamed wildfire of lust sweeping through you, a riptide made of flame. “Probably not,” you admit as your body jerks, muscles tensing as the tension starts to coil and pool in your belly.

Astarion giggles and tosses a pillow at you with a cunning smile, “Can I at least trust you to scream into that?”

You groan as he parades light kisses down your stomach, nipping your hip gently. Astarion parts your legs, his tongue running down the sensitive skin of your inner thigh while he places it over his shoulder. His fingers glide through your folds, coating them slick with your need. Astarion moans as his tongue divides your folds, and he laps at your aching clit with long and slow strokes. Your back arches off the bed with a hasty inhale, and you bite your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out.

His fingers tease your entrance, and your hips angle, appealing him to take you. He sinks them in, working you open and allowing your body time to adjust until he’s knuckle-deep. He’s inside you. Gods, he’s inside you, and it’s surreal. The pressure is heavenly, and you squirm, whimpering and sputtering his name in adoration, losing your composure. Astarion groans deep and sonorant, and it vibrates your sensitive pearl. His tongue pulses in an exquisite rhythm that numbs your mind while the tips of his fingers sweep over your G-spot with every perfectly orchestrated pump. Your lewd moans and whimpers are a sinful symphony that only he can orchestrate.

As the tension builds, your fingers clutch his hair as he drives you toward your crest. “Astarion…” Your eyes close as your pleasure increases. The pitch of your voice rising higher and higher, every muscle in your body taught, “Fuck! Astarion.”

Without missing a beat, he grabs the pillow by your hip and chucks it at you. You grasp that damn pillow like it might keep you afloat in this sea of pleasure you’re downing in. His lips envelop your clit, gently sucking, and he swallows your ecstasy with a hedonistic, contralto moan that strums your sensitive flesh. His scarlet eyes open and watch, captivated by you through dark lashes. You gaze into them as your euphoria crests over the edge, and you cry his name into the pillow, shuddering and contracting around him so strongly and violently that you forget how to breathe.

Astarion holds you firmly in place as he entices every shockwave and spasm out of you, releasing you when you’re panting his name, all but begging for mercy.

“Positively mouthwatering, my love,” he coos, kissing your flushed cheek as you try to collect yourself and catch the breath he stole from you.

You sputter nonsensically in reply as Astarion lays back with a contented sigh, drawing you close and guiding your head to his chest. His fingers brush through your hair, massaging your scalp affectionately. Your eyelashes flutter as you watch his erection twitch. Gods, you long for the heady taste of him so much that it makes you salivate at the notion, and you swallow hard.

“Astarion-” You start and trail off, unsure how to pose the question or even if you should, but you want it so badly it makes your desire ignite anew.

He requested I stop being overly gentle with him. I don’t know how, but I must try.

He looks at you with a cocked brow, follows your line of sight, and laughs, “Gawking again, are you? Did no one ever teach you it’s rude to stare?”

How could I not stare? Idiot.

“I, uh,” your voice is small, unsure, and so low that it would be impossible for anyone but him to hear. “I would like to do more than gawk - if you’re interested.”

“Oh,” he props himself up, “And what exactly would you like to do?”

You give him a sultry, smouldering gaze, biting your lower lip.

Comprehension overtakes his features, and he grins boyishly handsome. “I’m interested.” Astarion purrs, smoky and sensual, “Very interested. I would like to try.”

“Stop if you need to,” you murmur, kissing his forehead.

“I will.” He nods, “You have my word.”

He shudders as you place long, drawn-out kisses down his chest and over the chiselled muscles of his stomach until you’re in position. You wait for his approving nod and glide your flat tongue up his shaft before taking him in your mouth. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as you swirl your tongue around his swollen tip. You relish his taste, the salt of his skin, and Hells, you will drink down everything he gives you. He tenderly sweeps your hair back, holding it out of your face, and you gaze up at him through hooded, seductive eyes.

Astarion watches raptly, mouth parted in pleasure, and your heart palpates, prancing in your chest. You suck, hollowing your cheeks around his cock, and his head lolls back with a groan. “Good Gods,” he murmurs, his fingers twitching and curling into your hair.

You let him guide the pace, and he urges you on as you bob your head, lips gliding down his hard length as he encourages you to take him deeper and deeper. “That’s it,” he pants his praises, watching himself disappear into your mouth, “Just like that.”

Your clit throbs, core clenching, at the sight of him. His face is twisted in pleasure, sweat glistening on the planes of his chest as it rises and falls rapidly. All for you. It takes everything you have not to straddle him and beg him to claim you.

Hells, he’s a sight to behold.

His head falls back, he moans loudly, and Gods, you can’t help but moan repeatedly in response.

His fingers in your hair quiver, his breath hitches in his throat, and his cock twitches on your tongue. “Love,” he whimpers with a shaky pant, “Fuck. You’re going to make me come.”

His hips jerk, cock pulses, and he cries and sputters your name as he empties himself into your mouth. You swallow every last drop with unadulterated greed.

“Mouthwatering, as always, love,” you taunt him with his words and a wry grin while licking your red, swollen lips. “I think you were louder than me. You should have used the pillow.”

His chest heaves, and he laughs, “You’re something else, you know that? That was…” His mouth hangs open, and he shakes his head with a grin, “You have left me speechless, my dear. I have no words.”

You giggle, his praise making your heart flutter, “Earth-shattering? Realm-ending? Devastatingly satisfying?”

Astarion pulls you atop him and kisses you deeply while pulling the blankets up to keep you warm, “All of that and more.”

You touch his temple, “And you’re okay up here?”

“I’m much more than okay,” he beams. His fangs glint in the firelight in plain view. He does not need to hide them from you. Astarion takes your hand and kisses the tip of your finger previously held to his temple. “I’m happy.”

With the tips of his ears flushed pink, his eyes vibrant and glinting like polished rubies, and the relaxed, glowing smile on his face, your heart swells in your chest and tears well up in your eyes and slide out the corners.

His brows knit together, “Love,” his fingers sweep the unbidden tears away, “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” you cross your arms over his chest and rest your chin on your hands. “I’m just happy too.”

He closes his eyes, but he does not let himself slip. He hangs in that dreamscape between wakefulness and his trance while he listens intently to her heartbeat, a lullaby nestling in his soul. It’s only a matter of time before the nightmares that plague her impend on her rest, and when they do, he will be here to chase them away. She used to have troublesome dreams now and again, but she never used to wake up screaming. His chest tightens around his withered heart. Is it sadness, guilt or perhaps a mixture of both suffocating him?

He does not know. These are emotions he’s still not used to feeling, and he has difficulty discerning which is which. Centuries spent anesthetizing himself against everything, but loathing, disgust and anger have left him unaccustomed to little else. He’s so fragmented that he can’t even feel accurately, and sometimes, those insecurities still tell him that he should never have returned to her. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot escape the shadows that fester in his mind.

He forces himself to drown in the oppressive ocean, trying to decipher it. Fear? Guilt? Shame? Sorrow? What in the Hells constricts his chest? What good is he to her if he cannot be sure of his feelings?

But he is sure of her, and that is enough.

Focusing on his body, he leans into that comfortable, warm weight of her draped over him, her breath a gentle summer breeze fanning his chest. He sinks into the comfort too much, and his mind wanders.

She’s coming toward him. Why? She advances slowly, but he still feels the reflex to step back. Her arms fold around him, encasing him in her warmth. He doesn’t know what to do with this kind of physical affection, so he just stands there rigid and bewildered, like a fool.

Sex – now that is a language he can speak fluently, but this, what in the Hells does he do with this?

He flexes his hands as if testing to see if they are capable of supplying this kind of intimacy. When was the last time someone hugged him, simply to hug him? Good Gods, when was the last time he hugged anyone back? His arms fold around her, slow and unsure. Is he doing it right? Is he too cold on her skin? How tight is too tight or too loose? Can she tell he has no fucking idea what he’s doing?

"You don’t have to hug me back, Astarion,” she mutters against his chest with a giggle. “Am I making you uncomfortable? Say the word, and I will stop.”

Pulling her tightly to him is the only reply he can manage. His voice will surely shake and betray his distress. She feels good in his arms like this, a surprise that shocks him more than the initial hug. He relaxes into the moment, and his mind stops its incessant whirling. She steps away too quickly. It takes everything in him not to pull her back and never let her go.

“You... you are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Her eyes bore into him, and his words tumble out, “Honestly, I have no idea what we are doing. Or what comes next,” he adds because he cannot promise her there is anything next. He may not be capable of being with someone. He simply doesn’t know how to be anything other than the rake. He offers her his hand, desperate to touch her again, to feel the comforting heat of her skin thawing the ice in his veins and the crystals that have formed in the ventricles of his long-dead heart.

She takes his hand without hesitation, and Gods, he could swear that his heart quivered in his chest, “But I know that this? This is nice.”

“Yes, is it.” Her voice is tight, and her fingers twitch against his palm, “I need to get some rest. Goodnight, Astarion.”

"Ah, yes. Of course.” He jerks his hand away, lacing his arms behind his back with a shallow bow, “Sleep tight, my dear.”

Walking towards his tent, he turns to ask her to stay with him tonight. That is what couples do. Isn’t it? They are a couple now, aren’t they? Why does the title matter to him? He doesn’t get the chance to ask as she trots away and disappears into her tent.

He slips into his trance with an ease he has not felt in some time, especially in this cursed place with its hungry shadows and eternal darkness, but something is moving around. Eyes snapping open, he wakes quickly, his daggers poised and ready to kill. He peers around the dim camp, blinking the remainder of his meditation away, forcing his mind to focus.

His ears twitch at the sound of breathy, muffled sobs, and he sheaths his daggers. He would know her voice anywhere, and he jogs toward the sound.

Her back is turned to him as he approaches the furthest corner of camp. Her arms are wrapped around her knees, pulled tightly to her chest, and her head rests on them. Her body trembles as she fights to keep her pain muted. He’s never seen her cry before, and he’s taken aback. He had seen her bleeding out and on the verge of death, and her eyes were only ever ablaze with determination.

“Darling,” he rasps and hates how startled his voice sounds. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

She jumps at the sound of his voice. Her hands come up quickly to wipe the tears from her face, and she plasters the worst concocted smile on her face he’s ever seen.

“Oh, uh, hello. Everything is fine. I’m not hurt. I just, uh, need a moment.”

Teardrops wishing to be spilled cling to the corners of her eyes, and she chokes back her sobs. He wonders if he should leave her to her misery. If she wanted to talk to him, she surely would, right? He looks back at his tent.

No. No, that is not what a partner would do.

Sitting beside her, he pats her back awkwardly and inwardly cringes at himself, “If you do not wish to speak about whatever is the matter, I will not pry, but I am here for you. You can talk to me.”

“I should have seen it. Fuck. I should have known. If I had read the situation better, I would have been able to stop you from putting yourself through this.” Her eyelashes flutter as she looks at the shadows writhing across the sky like a pit of snakes. “I’m so sorry you felt like you had to manipulate me. I would have protected you with my life even if you didn’t sleep with me. I hope you know that. I will always protect you, Astarion.”

She’s... Hells, she’s crying because of what he said? She blames herself for his flawed notions. He almost wants to admonish her for being a martyr. What he did and how he acted is entirely on him.

“Don’t be so stupid,” he spits a little too harshly, and she balks. Shit. He is terrible at this, isn’t he? Consoling someone does not come naturally to him. “Apologies. That was crass,” he sighs. “I’m terrible at this, aren’t I?”

She giggles at him, and a smile slinks across his lips, “You could use more practice in this particular social skillset. That smart mouth of yours is a little too sharp sometimes.”

“I am not accustomed to this,” he admits, raising his arm in an invitation to get close. She scoots over and leans against him, “It’s new territory for me. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, Astarion. I understand,” she chimes in that sweetly forgiving inflection. “It’s already forgotten.”

“What I did was not a reflection on your character.” He gently guides her gaze so it meets his, and he speaks only truths, “You’re incredible, and you’ve seen nothing but incredible since I dragged you to the ground with a dagger to your lovely neck.”

“You never have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?” She grips his shirt in her fist, tugging on it slightly. Behind the tears brimming in them, her eyes glow with that determination he’s used to seeing. “Never, Astarion.”

He’s astonished, and his mouth drops open. When was the last time someone never required him to do something he was uncomfortable with? He nods his understanding, and she relaxes into his arms.

“Do you want to...” he swallows hard, “do you want to rest with me tonight?”

“Oh,” she jerks slightly, and her eyes shift. “That’s not needed. Honestly, I’m fine.”

“It is what couples do, is it not?” He asks because he honestly wants to know.

“What does it matter what other couples do?” she arches a brow at him with a devious grin. “We are us, and we can do as we please.”

Us. He does like the sound of that.

“Well,” he pauses, his tongue pressed hard against the top of his mouth as if trying to taste the words, “Then it would please me immeasurably if you joined me in my tent tonight.”

“This is real,” she breathes while staring up at him with those eyes that make whatever is left of his soul mewl, “You and me, we are real, and this is what you want, right Astarion?”

“We are real,” he purrs. “I may need time to learn and adjust, but this is real, and I’ve never wanted anything so fervently in my life. Come, rest with me tonight, my love.”

“My love?” her voice trembles.

“That’s right.” It’s all he can say without truly saying it.

The sitting room fire burns brightly as you lay on the lounge with an open book on your lap, but you haven’t been able to concentrate on reading. Your mind and body are restless. Mr. Blackwell is due to return to the city soon, and Gale has already told you that word has spread about Aldous’s “mysterious” disappearance. You knew this was coming, of course. That damn bookshop was frequented by many, and the fact that it’s been closed was sure to cause a stir.

You’re still unsure of how to handle the situation. You could try to convince Mr. Blackwell that Aldous ran off, but he was already suspicious, which will hamper your silver tongue. In truth, that would likely only be putting off the inevitable. When Aldous doesn’t return and is never heard from again, the problem will arise anew. At best, it might allow you to get Astarion out of Waterdeep, but that left Gale in a precarious situation.

No. This needs to be dealt with, one way or another.

A sphere of fire revolves above your palm, a comfort to you in times of uncertainty. When you feel powerless, your mastery and control of fire is a solace you often indulge in. The sphere bursts like a firework at your mute request and becomes dozens of glowing orbs that revolve and twist above you in a spellbinding flourish.

“Well, that’s quite the spectacle,” Astarion muses, “Although you only do things like this when you’re troubled. What’s going on in that head of yours? Should I be prepared for you to bolt again?”

He knows me too well.

“I won’t bolt again,” you scoff at him, pretending to be irritated. You may be broken, but your skin is still thicker than to be bothered by his flippant taunts.

He chuckles at the feigned sourness in your voice, “Tell me what’s troubling you.”

At your command, the orbs reshape into birds made of fire that frolic around Astarion, twirling, swooping and diving whimsically. They glint in the red of his eyes, casting attractive shadows that complement the angular planes of his face. Astarion smiles, watching the captivating pageant cavorting around him before you quell it completely.

Truth. I must stop trying to hide things from him.

“Gale said Mr. Blackwell will be back soon,” you sigh, rubbing your face, “and I still don’t have a good plan. He likely knows about his son’s disappearance, and we both know where he will come looking first.”

Astarion sits, and you stretch your legs across his lap, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We will workshop the details as we go. We always have.” He cocks his head, “You have never cared for a plan much before. Showing up and causing chaos has always been more our style.”

“You know I’m fine with chaos,” you admit. “But Gale is not, and this is his home. He is well-known and respected here. I won’t tarnish his reputation. I can’t do that to him.”

Astarion nods and smirks at you playfully, “I’m guessing that means good old-fashioned murder is off the table?”

With a small laugh, you give Astarion’s shoulder a gentle shove. “No more murder, Rogue.”

“Sorceress,” he pouts, clicking his tongue at you. “You used to be much more fun.”

“When we leave Waterdeep, you may murder until your heart’s content.” A truth. You may try to spare life when you can, but you do not require Astarion to. You fell for him as he is, as he has always been, and your love is not conditional.

“I await the day we leave then,” he chuckles, “Will you come out with me tonight? I would like to take you on a date.”

You giggle, “More courting?”

“Wooing. Courting. Romancing. Pleasuring,” he smirks slyly, “There is a ball being held tonight in the glory of some deity or another.”

“The balls held here are generally for the high society and nobles.”

“Indeed. They are,” he retorts, “which means we must look the part.”

“Looking the part is only half the battle,” you muse, “The other half is convincing them to give you entry.”

“Darling, I’m almost offended.” Astarion tuts, clicking his tongue with a frown, “Do you truly forget who you’re talking to? I can get us in one way or another. I am sure of it.”

Your lips twitch up in a devious smirk, “Are we going to cause some chaos?”

“A man can dream,” He smiles brightly. “You will come, yes?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of missing the chance to see you in action,” you purr. One of your favourite things has always been observing him doing what he excels at, and he adores the attention. “Do you have something to wear, or do you need me to go out and pick up something?”

“No need. I acquired something,” he winks with a wily grin. “Do you?”

“Acquired, huh? You went thieving without me, naughty boy.” You pull yourself up using his shoulder and glower at him playfully, tapping the tip of his nose softly, “You’re lucky I have something that will do nicely.”

Astarion giggles, taking your hand and using your finger to tap your nose back, “I am happy to take you thieving any night.”

“Promises. Promises. A future date, perhaps?"

“Dates where we go commit crimes?” He chuckles, kissing your forehead, “You’re far too perfect, my love. We leave at nightfall.”

Preparing in your old room, you slip into the lavish dress you thought would never wreathe your body. It was an impulsive and frivolous purchase that cost you more than any magical item, quarterstaff or robe you’ve ever bought and many times more useless.

The ivory silk sheaths your body, hugging your curves in all the right places with an off-the-shoulder neckline. Golden flames with a meticulous amount of detail are elegantly embroidered up the sides of the bodice until the flames lick across, meet in the middle and wrap around your breasts, accentuating them. Lace and silk flow over your hips and trumpet out slightly, licking the ground.

You wear a golden chocker that gives the appearance of gleaming wings wrapped around your neck and pin the delicate gold chains of the matching headpiece in the elaborate twists and curls, keeping half your hair up, leaving some to waterfall down your back in waves. Staining your lips a deep red hue, you line your eyes with black and shimmering gold and then slip into your heels.

Gods, how long has it been since I wore anything other than flat boots or sandals? 

Descending the stairs, your eyes snap to Astarion. He’s chatting with Gale, wearing an exemplary raven ensemble lined in a rich, dark violet and piped in gold. How in the Hells he managed to steal something that fits him as if tailored to his body is beyond you.

Astarion turns, and his expression of utter disinterest dissolves. He bows low before offering his hand. “You look,” Astarion stutters, clearing his throat, “positively ravishing.”

“Yes.” Gale stammers, jaw slack. He recovers his poise quickly, “You look lovely, my friend.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about the surprise I see in both of your faces, but thank you,” you laugh and give them a sarcastic curtsy and take Astarion’s offered arm. “Shall we go?”

“You two have fun.” Gale smiles, his hands laced behind his back, “Please try to stay out of trouble.”

Astarion clicks his tongue with a huff, “Gods, you could not be duller if you tried, wizard."

Arm entwined with Astarion’s, you approach the grand manor. Nobles in their regal garb flit about in a cacophony of voices as you approach the door. Several City Guards stand at the entrance of the multistory residence. You look anxiously at Astarion, and he taps your hand comfortingly.

“Name and invitation,” the guard’s husky voice drones with boredom.

Astarion answers in the choreographed intonation of manipulation you know so well, “Lord and Lady Ancunin,” he drawls confidently while handing over an invitation.

Lady Ancunin.

Your heart leaps, doing cartwheels in your chest, and Astarion’s eyes flick to yours. His lips twitch as he supresses a chuckle, and a wine-hued flush spreads across your cheeks.

The guard’s eyes flit over the invite, but his partner shakes his head while looking at some other list his fingers are clutched around, “I’m sorry, Lord Ancunin. You are not on the list.”

Astarion doesn’t flounder, “I’m positive you’re mistaken,” he accentuates commandingly, “Please check again.”

The guard looks to his comrade, who quickly flicks through sheet after sheet of paper. Your heart rate spikes, and your magic reels unprompted, palms heating.

Finally, the guards bow low, “Our sincerest apologies, Lord and Lady Ancunin. We mean no disrespect. It seems you were a late addition. Please enjoy the event.”

You enter the large foyer, its white tiles polished to a mirror-like sheen. Grand stone columns, carved with vines and flowers intricately wrapped around them, stretch to the high ceiling. The sheer size dwarfs you and makes Gale’s manor look small. A substantive fountain sculpted into the facsimile of Lliira, the joy bringer, is situated under an enormous crystal chandelier that casts rainbows athwart the room.

Who the Hells needs a fountain inside their home? 

“This fountain is horrific,” you whisper to Astarion while frowning.

“Isn’t it?” He smirks, “I told you I would get us in.”

“I never had any doubt, love. Who did you steal the invitation from?”

“Who knows?” Astarion shrugs, “I did not request their name while I pilfered their pockets.”

“And getting our name on the list?”

“Our name, hm? I do rather like the sound of that, you know,” he purrs, with a dreamy and contemplative guise that makes you wonder what’s going through his head. “That was substantially more of a challenge. Perhaps I broke in last night and penned our name myself, perhaps I paid someone off, or perhaps the guards just found me too intimidating. Trade secrets I’m not about to divulge.”

You giggle. He’d planned this, and for someone who is not a planner, that fact plucks your heartstrings, “I will get those secrets out of you.”

“I wish you the best of luck with that,” he tuts, tapping your lower lip. “Your silver tongue is impressive, my dear, but it does not work on me. I know all your little tricks.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you flash him with an impish smirk. “My silver tongue seemed to work wonders on you last night.”

“Good Gods, did it ever,” he drawls with a wolfish grin. “Don’t remind me of that here, naughty girl.”

“What’s wrong, Astarion?” You taunt, letting your fingers climb his chest. “Having trouble containing your, shall we say, enthusiasm?”

“With you?” Astarion kisses your palm. “Bloody always.”

You laugh as he drags you into the rabble of the ballroom. Illusion magic is clearly at play, the ceiling obscured by whirling lights of blues, whites and yellows, frolicking between clouds. Beautiful music fills the air, hidden under the chitchat of the other patrons. A long table of assorted drinks and treats splits the ballroom, filling the air with a sweet, zesty scent.

Astarion flits about the patrons, skillfully avoiding questions that might unearth your true identities. You’re nearly as skilled a liar as he, and untruths roll smoothly off your tongue, but whenever you falter, Astarion is there to throw you a lifeline and give you an escape.

Astarion escorts you onto the dancefloor and draws you into a dancer’s embrace as the music slows. With his cheek against yours, he whispers, “Nobility is as insufferable as ever.”

“Yes, this must be nigh on one of the utmost pretentious events I have had the pleasure of crashing.” Astarion glides you across the dancefloor, your feet following his expert lead. “Yet, you fit in with them effortlessly.”

“It takes considerable effort, darling,” he lifts his arm, and you pirouette at his side. He crosses your arms about your waist so your back is against his chest, and you sway slowly, side to side, “If I had it my way, I would be picking the pockets of every sod in here.”

“Well,” you say as he spins you again, and your arms wrap around his shoulders while he dips you low with confident steps, his hand at the small of your back, “Why aren’t you? Pandemonium was always our way, was it not?”

“As much as I would adore robbing these fools blind, you and me, in this moment, feels magical, does it not?” His fingers curl into your back as he gazes into your eyes with affection so sincere and deep it swallows you whole, and he brings you upright slowly, “I’m right where I want to be."

Be with me. Hells, be with me forever.

Before you can answer and tell him you want to be his again, an unpleasant shove on your shoulder nearly sends you tripping over your feet if it were not for Astarion’s tight hold on you.

A svelte woman with her hands on her hips dressed in a silvery shimmering dress smirks at you with a haughty glower, peering down at you over an upturned nose. She looks at Astarion, and her expression softens as her eyes slither over him.

Here we go. Again.

People have been eyeing him all night, vying for his attention. It was only a matter of time before some brazen imbecile attempted to do away with you.

“Oh my! I should watch where I am going,” she croons with a hand in front of her mouth, a facade of innocence if you’ve ever seen one. “My apologies, Lord….”

“Ancunin,” Astarion concludes, not even looking at her, “It’s quite alright.”

The woman bats her eyes, “Lord Ancunin,” she muses through pouty lips, “May I apologize by offering you a dance?”

Of fucking course.

“That is not necessary,” he almost growls but keeps his intonation courteous.

“Come, Lord Ancunin.” The woman babbles in an unpleasant nasally intonation. “It’s the least I could do.”

Your palms blister, and you can’t help the scowl that deepens the shadows dimming your face. You step in front of Astarion and retort with a voice layered in piercing frost, “I believe my husband said no.”

The woman jumps when you come into her line of sight as if she had not seen you there, and you resist the urge to reach out and slap sense into her.

“Oh,” she gapes while you flay her with your eyes, “I meant no offence.”

“None taken. Enjoy the night.” Astarion bows stiffly before dragging you to an uncrowded stretch of the room. He chuckles, “Cool that twitchy palm of yours, my love.”

You scoff and turn your nose up, crossing your arms, “I will reduce her to ash if she touches you.”

“Possessive, are you?” He giggles with an avid glare, “You need not worry. I am yours and yours alone, wife. ”

Wife. Hells, I called him my husband, didn’t I?

“Call it possession if you like. You said no, and like most wealthy idiots, she heard “try harder,” and I will not stand for it,” you seethe, watching the woman behind his back, still staring at him hungrily.

“There’s a veritable ocean of flame in your eyes,” he chimes with an arched brow. “Is she still watching?”

“Yes,” you condemn bitterly. “She is about to be charred,” you vow, caught in the riptide of your envy.

He pulls you into a passionate kiss full of love and intimacy. Slipping his tongue past your lips, his hands cradle your face, and he pushes his body into your curves. You glance over his shoulder and watch the woman frown, turning away with slumped shoulders, making you smile against him.

“Well,” he soothes under his breath, fingers inching up and down your arm, “Did it work?”

“Yes,” you brim with glee. “She stopped staring, but now everyone else is.”

“Let them stare,” he waves dismissively, not a whit ruffled by the attention. “I could use a drink. Would you like one?”

“Yes, please. You pick.”

Astarion nods, kisses your temple and disappears into the rabble. Closing your eyes, you lean against the wall. Were it not for that woman, you would have asked Astarion to be yours. Perhaps it isn’t necessary. Astarion has never cared about titles, but it matters to you.

Fear stirs like poison seeping from your bones, and there’s still doubt, but it no longer holds you hostage. Broken or not, you’re ready to step away from the gallows of your heartache.

“You!” A gruff voice, cold with fury, breaks you from your ruminations, “What have you done to my son?!”

Your eyes snap open and land on Mr. Blackwell, flushed red with woebegone rage.

Shit.  

Thank you to all those who read/like/comment/follow/reblog/etc. I'm forever thankful for the support. I've loved writing since I was a child but have never been confident enough to post anything for others to read. The encouragement I've received has been positively incredible, and it's been helping me through some hard times in my life - sincerely thank you so much! :)

Chapters Master List - Shadows of the Past

AO3: Crossposted

If you're interested, I also write fanfic for Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav - Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Small Notes:

-Astarion's POV seems to be well received, so expect us to switch between his POV and Tav's, which means we will learn more about what he was up to when he left from his perspective. I am excited to write this in upcoming chapters!

Mr. Blackwell is back. Uh oh.

[he-goes-down]

There Was A Time:

previous chapters/warnings

6. You Ain’t The First

Second person POV:

That Friday the band had a gig. You did the usual; help the boys tease their hair, this was the only time you could be near Izzy or touch him, you helped Slash with his eyeliner and Axl's eyeshadow. They went on stage you watched them from a secret balcony opposite the stage, where all the lights and other technical controls were. You watched Steven's hair bounce as he played the drums, and it was even more hypnotising with his teased hair. You watched him for the beginning of the gig, it soon trailed over to Axl. You knew it was bad that you had feelings for him, even worse that you kissed him. You're his manager, you couldn't be with him, just like nothing could happen between you and Duff. But my god he is so addictive to look at. His teased hair made him look like a lion, and the way he moved his hips when he sang made all the girls, the boys and yourself go absolutely wild. You did however look away from him when it was Slash's solo. Duff and Izzy were looking at you while he shredded, you didn't notice of course as you were in awe at his talent and his man boobs. Duff was jealous, but he wasn't hateful, he knew Slash was amazing at going nuts on the guitar, he stared too sometimes. Izzy however, no one knew what he was thinking. Murder? Maybe. Toe hair? I don't know. Unicorns shitting glitter? Sure! He was so hard to read, he was a complete mystery.

The rest of the show went well. Axl didn't jump on anyone or even shout at them. When they ended you waited for them in the changing room. All the guys were first in, but Axl was slightly delayed, but soon he stepped over the dressing rooms threshold. "Guys, I have someone that I want you to meet." Axl said with a smile. It was quite unusual to see him this chirpy after a show, he would normally be ranting with the small nit-picky stuff of the not-so-good quality equipment. A stunning girl with long curly hair and the most beautiful blue eyes walked in behind him and then stood next to him. "This is Erin." He spoke. "My girlfriend". Those words hit you like a freight train, your ears started ringing. You felt so betrayed. You felt your heart break under the sheer amount of pain it just felt in that moment. You hated them. No not her. Him. Axl Rose. He played with your heart just like that. Did he think of you like you were some groupie? He couldn't have, your kiss and everything but lust behind it. You had to put. Brave face on to not like you wanted to kill yourself in that moment because, they rest of the band were introducing themselves and you were up next after Izzy. "This is our manager." Axl said as he motioned to you. "Ah! Oh my god you're so pretty! I've heard so much about you!" She said. 'Oh thank god she's a girls girl' You thought in relief.

You guys sat at the booth like normal, this time with Steven and Erin on your sides instead of Axl. Erin was absolutely lovely, you contemplated taking her for yourself and getting back at Axl. Or just taking her for yourself. You we're still heart sore and annoyed at Axl, with every word he spoke your malicious thoughts of getting back at him got worse and worse. Would he even care? He better. "If you weren't in the music business, what would you do?"  Erin asked. You were about to speak but Axl spoke over you. "Some Rocket Science things. That's why we call her our Rocket Queen." He spoke. You coughed a little nearly choking as you remembered one of the stories behind the song Rocket Queen that they haven't even made yet. "That's so cool!" She responded. You smiled at her. "I can speak for myself Axl." You said with malice. "Geez, what's got you so riled up?" he asked as he laughed. You didn't know if he knew what he was doing was getting on your nerves, but he loved doing it. You rolled your eyes. "Stop listening in to our convos babe." She said as she playfully hit him. The pet name hurt you even more, but at least he was getting smacked. "Steven can you sit next to Axl so he can't eavesdrop?" You asked Steven, and he agreed and moved to the other side. You and Erin chatted more, as the guys were talking in their own world, it felt good to have another girl to talk to, you realised just how much more immature boys were. "So... Which one is your favourite?" She asked as she nudged you. "Oh, no no I can't choose," You giggled "Steven definitely. Oh, and maybe Duff as second" You whispered to her. "And the others?" She giggled "Izzy hates me for I don't know what reason. Slash doesn't warn anyone when he's bringing someone over, so I always get to hear the noises he makes." You giggled as you rolled your eyes. "And Axl just getting on my nerves sometimes." You added. "I don't know, I think Izzy has thing for you." She spoke. You stared at her with wide eyes and a 'what the fuck' expression on your face. You nearly burst out laughing. "Seriously! Look, every time he takes a sip of his drink, he looks at you." She whispered. You scoffed lightly at her in disbelief. "Look!" She whisper shouted. Both of you looked at Izzy who sat at the other side of the table. He took his glass, lifted it to his mouth and took a sip, his eyes then glanced to your end of the table. He saw the two of you looking back at him, and he quickly glanced back at the other guys while coughing slightly as he nearly choked on his drink. Your mouth was slightly a gape as you looked back at Erin, and she had the most shit eating grin ever and was about to giggle her ass off just like you were. She snorted then you did, it didn't take long till the two of you were laughing uncontrollably, not being able to breathe soon after. Izzy quickly made his way out of the booth seeing this scene unravel and he went to the bathroom. The rest of the band were looking at you two going mental.

You soon calmed down, but you didn't explain to the rest what happened. Axl looked a little irritated, but you didn't notice as you were having too much fun with Erin. Izzy soon came back also looking irritated but much more than Axl. You two didn't giggle more at him just encase he might go off on you. "But who do you like?" She asked. "Didn't you already ask me this?" You raised an eyebrow. "I mean like. Like, like you know?" She explained. Shit. You couldn't say it. "I can't date any of them. I'm their manager." You told her. "Yeah, but you can still like one of them. It's not illegal." She responded. "Nah, I couldn't." you said. 'Wise words, should have listened to them sooner.' You thought. "Come on! What about the tall one? He's been taking peeks at you too." She said. You blushed a bit, you had an initial crush on him, but you still couldn't pursue it. You looked at Duff who was talking amongst the group, then glanced at Axl who sat next to him. If Axl didn't care about you, then he wouldn't mind you getting closer with Duff. Right?

You all drank some more and talked some more. Izzy starred daggers at you the whole time. You didn't realise as you were talking to Erin and Duff over the table. It was soon time to leave, and you were innocently flirting with Duff as you were walking to the exit. Axl noticed and his intoxicated rage filled eyes glared at the sight of you two, and his anger burned brighter as Duff laid his hand on your shoulder as he sweet talked you and you giggled in response. Erin left to her own apartment as you were halfway home, Axl didn't even seem to acknowledge that. Or even get the slightest bit of excitement when offered going to her place to do some unspeakable business. He just grunted a 'bye' and continued to hang his head with distain as he continued walking. He gets like this when he's off his head drunk, but not when naked women are involved. You got home and everyone went to their respective rooms. You took Duffs hand and leaded him to your shared room, you were drunk and wanted to have fun, and especially get on Axl's nerves. Duff was more than happy to endorse what you were about to do. "Wait. I need to talk to you." Axl said. You rolled your eyes and sighed. You nudged your head at Duff to go to the room. You rested your back on the nearest wall and crossed your arms, as you gave a tired look at Axl. "Mhm?" You started. "What do you think you're getting at?" He accused. "I don't understand." You responded in a sarcastic annoyed tone back at him. "Why are you so angry? You have a girlfriend now. You should be ecstatic!" You waved your hand as you spoke. He huffed slightly, being at a loss for words. "Go on...?" You urged. Nothing. You got up off the wall about to walk to the room. "Just, don't hurt her." You said to him in a lighter serious tone. "Don't go kissing her and then leaving her for another girl the next week." You said as began walking. He did not like that. He started to speak up. "You ain't the fucking first. Just remember that." He shouted down at you. You knew you weren't, but you really wanted to be.

You did get back to the room, tired from the mental drainage that's been this night. Duff was half-way undressed but he was passed out hard on the bed. You sighed in relief as you put the covers over him and tucked yourself into bed next to his.

[tomionefinds]

Hey mods hope you're keeping well!! Have you got any fic suggestions where Hermione travels to the past and Tom "falls" for her (in typical Tom way ofc) but she returns to her own time and meets him as Voldemort again ( who never got over her) ?? It's totally fine if you don't have any recs tho. Have a good day<3

Hey Anon:

Here are some to enjoy that are pretty close to these parameters. - Haus

Building a Mystery by StBridgit

M | Complete | 256k

Avoidance of death provides a powerful impetus for Lord Voldemort to use more than one method to stay alive. If the Horcruxes were not his final play, what would happen? Would it be worth the price he will pay? Hermione finds herself out of place and out of time. What will she do when there is nowhere to run? A Tomione pairing that morphs into LV/Hermione.

Somewhere in Time by SerpentInRed

M | Complete | 342k

Sent back in time by a mysterious person and trapped in the past with a missing Dumbledore and an overbearing, charismatic Dark Lord, they had no idea how much they could dabble with time before the world they had known shattered into pieces.

All the Wrong Choices by Queenofthedreamers

M | Complete | 165k

Hermione Granger is kidnapped by Severus Snape and taken to Lord Voldemort, who behaves in a bizarrely familiar manner with Hermione. When she's rocketed back in time by Voldemort, she realises just why he knew her so well in the 1990s - it was because he'd known her very well indeed, as Tom Marvolo Riddle, in an entirely different time. She had to go back because she'd been there. But will she stay?

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Antonio: What is an MBTI?

Luisa: It is a personality test.

Mirabel: What? Another one? The weird number one wasn’t enough?

Luisa: Yeah, but this one has fun little avatars, hermanita. And it’s much better. *showing Mirabel her phone* See? Here are all the different ones! We should all take this test later!

Camilo: I already have! Mine is ENFP! I saw it on Tik Tok a while ago.

Isabela: Same, Lola and I did it together. I’m an E… something something something. Fuck, I forgot how horrible I was with letters! Let me log into my account real quick.

Camilo: Okay, while she’s doing that, why don’t you tell us what you are, sis?

Dolores: No. I will remain a complete mystery. I tell every person a completely different answer. None of you idiots will ever know what I truly am. That way you will never be able to understand me and won’t be able to use it against me. It gives me knowledge and power over you—

Mirabel: Introvert, sensing, thinking and judging.

Dolores: HOW THE FUCK DID YOU KNOW?

Mirabel: I picked the description that fit you best. It’s not rocket science, prima.

Antonio: Wow, Mirabel! Your one must be a really smart one!

Dolores:

Camilo, patting her shoulder: It’s okay, sis, I couldn’t find any results for how to prank and gaslight an ISTJ anyways.

Isabela: I did

Camilo: SEND ME THE LINK

[hazerdouswaste]

Ramble about Kristen's campaign that has no cohesive line of thought:

There's something so fun in everyone joining together to make a batshit over the top cult of personality for Kristen just because the other student body president candidate is too smug and annoying (unless you're Riz, then the motive is to bolster everyone's resume)

And yeah, Shitpisser Hockeypuck is probably evil and there's a mystery and a plot and whatnot, but honestly that's not even why they're doing it. I just know how much fun it must be to rocket a completely magicless Kristen wearing a salsa filled cowboy hat over the school with illusions of fireworks and a 9ft spider, tricking everyone into thinking she was the one who made all that happen. And all of this was just because Pissyface Gaspedal was being a little bitch

Fig taking her job as security/ fake Kristen so seriously is so fun and in character. Fig got to live her kind of lifestyle doing the shrimp jump while pretending to be Kristen, putting on a nat 20 quality show AND making everybody think Kristen is the shit

I think I would probably live vicariously through Kristen's campaign if I was one of her friends, I wouldn't even be mad she was getting all the attention I'd just be proud

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

First Ninja can easily defeat Chase during Heylin Eclipse. If he finds out about this phenomenon, will he take advantage of the opportunity?

Well, perhaps not easily, but his chances of winning certainly rocket from 15-25% to like, 75-85%!

The thing is, we do not know many details about Heylin Eclipse, the only sure thing is that Chase seems to be unable to use magic freely (but he still can participate in showdowns and use Wu, which imo require some?? sort of minimal magical capacity) and transform into his dragon/lizard form. It also seems that the same magic usually assists Chase in being/reacting faster, since he is easily caught by Wuya (but she is also weakened?? so). Does it just takes away that buff he acquired since becoming Heylin or is the Eclipse actively nerfing him (making him sluggish)?

However, just as Chase himself said, despite lack/suppression of Heylin magic, he is not helpless - he has strategy and experience on his side and not to mention probably 100 tricks up his sleeve AND its one of the rare instances his motto of 'using Wu as a crutch' is nowhere to be seen, because he literally had Serpent's Tail hidden in his gauntlet! (talk about aces in sleeves huh!)

(I kind of wish there was a bit more of that smart and experienced Chase in the episode, instead of what happened.)

So that's mostly the reason why I think First won't get a win too easily. But of course the main question is would he even use that opportunity? TBH I don't think he will go out of his way to do it.

(kinda radnom babbling on under cut, u can ignore it, the point of anwer was said xD)

In my mind, after First VS Chase event, First is too busy doing his stuff to actively worry about Chase. I mean, this guy still has a Sorcerer locked under his town attracting/causing chaos and monsters, and a Ninjanomicon to write and to prepare the future generations to keep Sorcerer locked and Norrisville safe, and probably other dozen things he has to worry about (and unlike Chase, First got only this mortal life and time to deal with it all, lol).

And while, sure, while Chase is a menace and a threat to any capable warrior, Chase also has been around for so long: he has clearly established his place in Hierarchy of Dark forces loooooong before Ninja came around. And yet while participating in wars and causing trouble, he is yet to be the supreme overlord of the world or whatever, so?? Chase kinda leads an existence of eternal evil final boss, doing his evil things and what not. Mostly he is too busy collecting cool warriors, like pokemons or trader cards or whatever.

I feel like in some sense First would understand the whole 'letting evil exist for the sake of the world balance' thing. Because like the XS last episodes established - Chase's existence is a sort of necessary evil that keeps balance from being upset too much on either side. Selfish and Cruel enough to be evil, but also Reasonable and Honorable enough to be sorta neutral good...-ish? I guess the right alignment would Lawful Evil? Though it doesnt really fit completely right, but it somewhere in that ballpark.

(On a side note, IMO about the Sorcerer - he is pretty much clear is not necessarily just Evil, he is more of Chaotic Evil. And Chaos is sort of also neutral, in a sense?? I mean Sorcerer was running around turning people into monsters, causing havoc across continents to gain power to... I dunno, be unstoppable? Cause more chaos and pain? Destroy everything?? Perhaps his goal was to make the World be like Chaos Realm/Land of Shadows? Who knows??? His motivation is as mysterious as his defeat in the finale, lol. But his deal feels more like those World-ending Spiders That Eat from XS, because it seems to me, he basically just gained more power for sake of more Chaos, not like... rule the world or something.)

Also while Chase is bugging First, he is kinda... not actively doing world-ending evil stuff to First's knowledge?

It's like... bothering First is distracting him from doing other evil stuff (he still probably has some schemes going on, but like in the background, not related to First), so First is like 'I could waste energy and effort to put an end to his reign of terror...but i guess i can let him bother me if it stops him from actively doing evil, just for a bit ' (but Chase is certainly doing evil, just nowhere First can see lol).

But, let's suppose First does figure out about Heylin Eclipse. For it to be of any use to First, it has to happen soon and in his lifetime, when he is still physically capable to take on Chase. He also got to plan out how he would defeat Chase (kill or capture him, how to do it and etc.). AND he also got to plan it around his duties to Norrisville. So like, if by incredible stroke of luck, all of it aligns? First might attempt it and most likely win!

But i feel if, it would take much longer (like say 30+ years) for Eclipse to arrive, First would not prioritize capturing Chase over his duties in Norrisville. This dude already wasted most of his life to defeat the Sorcerer (and like a bajillion creatures and monsters to do it), AND he is gonna waste his afterlife to keep him locked up too, just let the poor man rest! xD

(There is now an image in my head of First looking at Chase and going 'Not My Problem' and just peacing out of there.)

So, yeah, while I'm sure First can defeat Chase during Heylin Eclipse, Im not so sure he would actively dedicate himself to doing it.

On ANOTHER, much more shippy note (that u can ignore if its not ur thing), there is something very delicious in the idea that First, knowing such a blatant weakness of Chase's, and just doesn't do anything about it. Perhaps it's because, in some way, First prefers to fight Chase in full power, a much honorable battle no matter if it ends in defeat or victory. Or because it feels like such underhanded tactic of striking when his opponent is at their weakest. Maybe it feels this way because, they are enemies in name only because of their moral alignments, not because either of them actually hate each other (that much lol).

Ooooo just imagine, First and Chase confrontation during Eclipse, Chase fully expecting First to take the opportunity (because its what he will do), but First does the unexpected, and instead of ending the fight, he steps back and that stops Chase on his tracks. And somehow they end up waiting out the Eclipse together, First keeping an eye out for his weakened enemy, while Chase, despite all his previous flirting and needling, is geniuenly baffled by First's behaviour. He really did expect First to take the chance, after all the annoyance and bothering, and just generally First being exasparated with him. But here they are, with Chase at his weakest and First watching his back.... Trully strange.

*eyebrow wiggle*

but thats just silly shippy thoughts haha. I do feel like First will 100% use that opportunity to whoop Chase's ass just to vent all the frustrations about the trouble and annoyances Chase caused.

anyway ye sorry for rambling ;D

[gumnut-logic]

Talk No.1 (Complete)

Alexander Sweetapple series

Here is the whole fic as one 2700 word piece. Apologies for the tiny bits posted before. Nowadays I can only do snippets at a time and I'm far too eager to post for my own good. But here is the whole thing complete :D

Many thanks to many people for this series - @onereyofstarlight and @whatgaviiformes listened to my extensive babbling about this fic and other random topics today. They deserve an award. Many thanks to @idontknowreallywhy for the ask this belongs to. It doesn't quite answer it, but there are other conversations planned. After all, it says No.1 in the title :D Too good a prompt, I must say :D

I hope you enjoy this conversation between Alexander Sweetapple and Scott Tracy :D

-o-o-o-

“Alex baby, Mr Tracy wants to see you.”

Okay, if he balanced the reaction by adding more stabiliser earlier and slower, the result might give him the flexibility he needed in the final polymer.

“Yo, Alex!”

It was a bit of a stretch, pun intended, but it might just work. He calculated the time and volume of-

“Alex!”

He jumped and his stylus flipped out of his fingers, flying across the room to hit the pinboard full of notes he had been scribbling on earlier.

There was a crash as a pin, holding up far more than physics should allow, gave way and let its stack of flimsies explode to the floor.

“Oops.” Erica held a hand to her mouth. “Sorry.”

Alex stared at the mess scattered like artificial autumn leaves and just sighed. It had been one of those mornings. His current project had hit a bit of snag and he’d had to dive deep to find a solution.

Erica stood in the light from the windows of the portable building they were currently calling their labs. Her hair had shifted to more of a purple since the earthquake. Alex figured it was to offset the bright fluro yellow of her cast. Why her broken arm had a fluro yellow cast had been explained but Alex had yet to understand it. As always with Erica, colour choices were a mystery. Purple hair, pig tails with bobbly yellow ties, bright red lipstick and eyeshadow sparkly yellow with a touch of green.

She was just Erica.

She frowned at him. “Tia said Mr Tracy needs to see you.” She thumbed a hand in the direction of the door.

“Virgil? Virgil’s here?” Great he would love to hear about this solution.

“No, not Virgil, THE Mr Tracy.”

Alex blinked. “Mr Jeff Tracy?”

Erica let out a breath and rolled her eyes. “No, Mr SCOTT Tracy. Really, they need codenames or something. There are just too many Mr Tracys. The bird one, Alex. The Eagle has landed.”

“Mr Tracy?” Oh shit. “Where?”

“Tia’s office. Apparently, he was ‘in the area’.” She put a finger to her lips in thought. “Gordon could be the Fish. He’d like that, I think.” She started counting fingers. “There are three space guys, though. Youngest flies the Rocket, so we can call him that. Middle one…” She eyed Alex. “…assuming he does actually exist, could be Spaceman. Their Dad is The Astronaut. That leaves just Virgil.” She smiled and walked towards her desk, past Alex, trailing a blood red fingernail across his shoulder. “We all know he’s the ‘Lover Boy’.”

“Erica!”

But she only laughed. “You better get moving, Sweet Pie. The Big Bird’s a-waiting.”

He grunted, grabbed his tablet, and fishing his stylus off the floor, fled out the door.

The morning sunlight was glaring but warming in the cold brisk air. Around him the Māhia facility was a buzz of activity, mostly workmen hammering and hollering at each other as the new labs facility emerged where his former workspace had crumbled. It was an energising atmosphere. Change, for good or bad, was still change, and it offered new points of view and new inspiration.

And, of course, it didn’t hurt to return to Māhia with such a big change in his own life.

In all honesty, he was just really happy.

He trotted across the grounds towards the main offices, at one point glancing off in the direction of the landing strip to see if he could spot a Thunderbird.

No such luck, so he guessed Mr Tracy…Scott…had arrived in one of their private jets. He briefly wondered why he had dropped in and why he wanted to see Alex. Virgil had called him last night, with only a hint of checking up on him. He was learning that Tracys were much like Tracy Industries, a bunch of caring people who did their best to look after those close to them.

Close.

He grinned a little goofily.

He was close to Virgil Tracy.

It was with that wonderful thought that had him almost skipping into the offices and down the hall to Tia’s.

He was brought up short, however, when instead of finding Tia’s PA seated outside, another familiar and efficient woman sat there instead.

“Hello, Mr Sweetapple. It is nice to see you again.” Carly, Mr Tracy’s PA, smiled at him knowingly.

Well, it seemed knowingly. There was a sparkle in her eye that just said, ‘I know what you’ve been up to, Mr Sweetapple’. Whether she approved or not was not clear, but she knew.

Everything.

“Hi.”

“Mr Tracy is finishing up with the Director. Please take a seat and he’ll be with you in a moment.”

Alex blinked. This was the first time he’d seen Mr Tracy in a formal setting since leaving Tracy Island. On Tracy Island, Scott appeared to shed the ‘Mr Tracy’ persona and relaxed.

Alex had seen him joking and laughing, messing with his youngest brother’s hair, and there may have been a prank involving blue shampoo and Gordon.

To be honest, Alex wasn’t sure if Scott had been the victim or the perpetrator. After all, Gordon had also ended up with blue hair and because he was blond, the blue stood out much more than what had taken to the few silver hairs Scott sported.

That morning had been interesting. A little eye opening to see both brothers running around in towels yelling at each other - the athleticism had definitely been an eyeful. It had taken Mrs Tracy to bring the ruckus to a halt. Alex’s mum had been giggling so much - a presence the two Tracy men had obviously forgotten and there was a lot of red face to match the blue hair.

Alex himself had been curled up on the sofa with both his breakfast and Virgil, and had kept quiet in order to not remind them of his existence. Though his eyes had nearly fallen out of his head in the process.

The situation was not one he thought he would ever encounter.

Virgil had just rolled his eyes and smiled at Alex, probably at Alex’s expression, and kept on eating.

Let’s just say that Scott Tracy at home was vastly different to Scott Tracy in a professional capacity.

He swallowed and settled into the chair as Carly returned to doing whatever she was doing with her tablet.

Alex tried his best not to wear the corner of his tablet cover off with his fidgeting.

“Thank you so much for all your support, Mr Tracy. You’ve been so generous towards our rebuilding efforts.” Tia was walking through the office door, Mr Tracy at her side, smiling.

Blue eyes sparkling.

Alex looked down at his tablet.

“I’m gratified it is going so smoothly. You should be proud of your team here, Tia.”

“I am.”

Alex looked up to find the two of them shaking hands. Did Tia have a little of that hero worship in her eyes? He frowned. He’d never noticed it before, but there it was.

It was so familiar, it hit home.

He looked away again.

“Alex!”

He jumped and shot to his feet. He did not…did not…drop his tablet…barely. “Mr Tracy!”

“Tia, speak to you soon. Let us know if the team needs anything.”

“Thank you, Mr Tracy.” She eyed Alex with a smile as she walked past. Why did everyone seem to have that knowing look in their eyes?

“Alex, come on in.” Mr Tracy gestured towards the open door. The man was dressed head to toe in a silver grey business suit with a blue tie. A red tiepin shone in the overhead light, an engraved TI logo fading in and out as he moved. As expected, every hair was in its place as if he was ready for a promotional shoot. His eyes glittered as he smiled.

Alex did as asked and trotted into Tia’s office.

It looked like it always looked. Neat, professional and efficient. But as Mr Tracy shut the door behind him, Alex found himself swallowing hard for no reason whatsoever.

‘Take a seat, Alex. I’ve been meaning to speak to you out of earshot of Virgil for some time. Sorry to interrupt you at work, but I don’t think it can hold off any longer.”

What?

Alex followed him with his eyes as Mr Tracy took a seat on the couch opposite him, near the window. He sat back and crossed his legs, one elbow on the arm rest. Chin on his knuckles, he stared at Alex.

Alex began reconsidering all his life decisions up until now. Why did he want to talk to him without Virgil?

Shit.

Had he done something wrong?

Keep it calm. Worry about it when you know about it.

Yeah, right.

The silence grew as Mr Tracy looked at him a moment longer.

“I believe there is something we need to talk about, Mr Sweetapple.”

Mr? Oh, shit.

He swallowed. “Yes?”

“As to how our records claimed you were on site, when in fact you were in Gisborne.”

“Oh.” That.

“The mistake caused a great deal of grief on our part, Alex. We thought you were dead under the rubble.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Tracy. I thought I had signed out, but I didn’t.”

There was something on the man’s face, something like a memory that hurt.

Oh, god. Really? Mr Tracy had been worried about him?

A blink. Of course, Mr Tracy had been worried about him. The Tracys doted on their employees like extended family.

He stared at Scott. Did he know about him and Virgil before Alex did? He put himself in the place of the Commander of International Rescue, the great man who Erica described at length, heroically rescuing her from the rubble. Those blue eyes scanning the remains of the lab, knowing he would have to tell his brother who…

“Oh, god, I am so sorry.” He stumbled around the table, almost sending it flying, to land on the couch beside Scott. “I didn’t intend to cause worry. My mum was in Gisborne. Erica refused to let me have my laptop. It was a long drive. When I left I was in a hurry. I thought I swiped my card, I must have missed it. Honestly, I didn’t realise. I will make sure next time, I promise. I am so sorry.” His breath left him. How could he have done this to this amazing man who did so much. How could he have done that to Virgil? He had to apologise to Virgil.

He was suddenly caught between grabbing his phone and ringing Virgil, and consoling Scott, Virgil’s big brother who had thought he was dead.

“Alex.”

How could he have done this to either of them. The thought of Virgil going missing, the need to dig under rubble, the fear and grief…

“Alex, it’s okay.”

He looked up into kind blue eyes.

“I wasn’t intending to criticise. It was an accident. A situation we can use to improve the procedure. I was going to ask you for feedback and any suggestions you might have towards improving our staff security.” Scott arched an eyebrow.

Alex stared, mouth open just a little.

The eyebrow curled into a frown. “You okay?”

A blink and Alex shook himself. “Um, yeah. Sure, um, I’ll take a look at the system.” He swallowed hard, biting the inside of his lip. He took a breath and straightened where he sat. “I’m still sorry, Scott for what I put you and Virgil, through.”

“Mistakes happen. We learn from them so they don’t happen again.”

“It won’t.”

A half-smile. “I didn’t think it would. But any suggestions to improve the system would be welcome.” He sighed. “But anyway, that isn’t what I called you in for.” He reached over to the desk and grabbed his tablet.

What, there was more?

Perhaps it was mother nature throwing Alex a bone in that moment, because while Mr Tracy reached across to the desk, his head passed through the shaft of morning sunlight shining into the room.

The blue highlights in his hair lit up.

Barely there in normal light, but with the sun’s intensity they sparkled as much as his eyes.

Something curled up warm in Alex’s belly at the sight of them. It was a reminder of the man behind the professional. The Scott under the Tracy.

But then Scott moved out of the sun and Mr Tracy returned.

He studied his tablet, poking at it for a moment. “Your conduct during the Gisborne Earthquake was exemplary, Alex. You saved thirteen people.” A smile. “We are very proud of you as both an employee and a friend.”

“Oh.” A friend?

Scott smiled again. “And the people of Tairāwhiti would like to give you an award.”

Alex stared at him.

The smile shifted a little sideways. “Are sure you’re okay?”

Suddenly aware of an undercurrent of familiar Tracy amusement, Alex pulled himself together. “Um, they do?”

“You’ve earned yourself a Tairāwhiti Hero Award, Alex. Congratulations.”

-o-o-o-

Erica jumped on him as soon as he walked through the door to their lab. “So, did he give you the Talk?”

“What?”

“The ‘treat my brother right or I’ll skin you alive’ talk?”

Alex stared at Erica. “No.”

“Oh. So I don’t need to threaten him back?”

“Erica! He’s our boss!” Alex pushed past her.

“So? I’ve got your back, Sweet-Pie. I’ll take him for ya.”

He held his hands up. “No one is threatening anyone. Virgil was barely mentioned.”

“But he was mentioned?” Erica really did love the gossip.

“Only because of you.” Alex plonked himself down in his desk chair.

“Me? What did I do?”

“You dobbed me in about the cereal.”

“That? I have a right to report my silly lab partner for falling asleep in his cereal because he was up all night. You scared me. I thought you had drowned! I thought I was going to have to give you CPR!”

“I know. I said I was sorry. Did you have to tell?”

“Of course, I did. It was for your safety.”

Alex grunted. It had only been a parting heads up from Mr Tracy, but it was still mortifying.

Mr Tracy had even placed a hand on his shoulder. “Alex, from one insomniac to another - you are dating a worrywart. He’ll hound you for it. Trust me, I know.” Scott rolled his eyes a little. “Not that he can talk.” He let out a breath. “But as your employer, I want you to look after yourself. Far be it for me to advise on the maintenance of the artistic mind, but you are more important than the work, Alex.”

Alex twisted his lips at the memory. Mr Tracy was being kind but Alex had hit a breakthrough at 2am. He had been in the zone and if he had gone to bed, he would have lost the thread.

He had tried to protest that the design frenzy had saved him a week of work, but Mr Tracy had only frowned at him.

Alex turned to glare at Erica. “You didn’t have to give him the photos.”

Erica twisted her lips. “How could I not? Besides, the Fish loved them.”

“You gave them to Gordon?!”

She snickered. “Sweet-Pie, you are so cute when you’re flustered. Of course, I gave them to Gordon.” She grinned. “You should see what he gave me in return.” Her eyes were literally sparkling with mischief.

“What?”

But she turned away. “Nope, saving it up for bribery material. Be nice to me or you don’t get to see.”

“See what?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She sat down at her desk and did a very good job of suddenly looking busy.

“That’s blackmail, Erry.”

“Nah, you trust me too much.”

Alex grumbled and turned back to his computer. “Well, in that case, you don’t get to know what Mr Tracy called me in to discuss.” He opened one of his project files, jammed his headphones over his head and purposefully ignored her curious eyes.

Besides, he had an award ceremony to attend in a few weeks - a black tie event. And it had occurred to him that he was yet to see Virgil in a suit, much less a tux.

And the possibility was very distracting.

-o-o-o-

[fang-feraligatr-blog]

My new Toa Team at long last!

You've all waited so long for these so I'm just gonna jump into it!

First up, Pyrus. Toa Pohalan of Fire!

First and Foremost, I will explain Pohalan later. Pyrus like most of his current team is actually a toa from another group that was brought to the accursed lands of Bota Magna by the whims of fate, and his experience might not be as deep as the other toa, but his Elemental Powers rival that of even the Great Tahu! In fact due to an encounter with a rather aggressive nui-rama, Pyrus burnt out all the organic material in his right arm and now has what we would equate to an entire motorcycle for a right arm, engine and all. His golden blade was a gift given to him from an old friend before he left for Bara Magna, only for the fusion of Bara Magna and Aqua Magna to throw him off completely and land on Bota Magna instead.

His kit features the Mask of Time-stop, which allows him to literally stop everything around him for exactly 30 seconds. He can also focus this power to pause one specific object or individual for 15 seconds. It takes a lot of concentration, or in some cases desperation, to activate it so he's not prone to use it much. He's also got his replacement arm that sports it's own ventilation system so he never burns himself out again, and the gear system in his hand allows him to hold onto anything, and never let go. His Golden Sword of Fire is powered by a stone containing a blue flame that allows him to wield the sword even when exerting an extreme amount of power.

He leads his current team in hopes of finding a way back to his original destination, unaware of what fate has in store not just for him, but for all the universe.

Next up: Moku, Toa Pohalan of Air

Not usually one to be concerned with things like "emotional responses" and preferring to use his head rather than his heart to decide things, Moku is a calculating and ingenious Air Toa that prefers to work alone for the most part. So why he's willingly working with the others is a mystery, until you ask him and he says, "They're the best odds of survival I have". He seems cold, but in reality he only works with his logical side because emotions and feelings are confusing to him. That said, he's a mechanical genius who, using his own methods, basically turned himself into a toa and even augmented his armor into a fashion that he found both practical and stylish. His biggest drawback is that he's rather sarcastic and constantly butts heads with the Toa of Water because of it.

His kit includes the Mask of Mechanisms, which allows him to understand how to use any mechanical object simply by looking at it. This is incredibly useful to him as he likes to tinker from time to time, leading to him being the brains of the team. Despite being a Wind Toa, he's no gust of wind to ignore as his armor is EXTREMELY HEAVY! So heavy that he NEEDS that rocket engine on his back just to get off the ground. His flight is slow at first but it builds up speed fast and eventually gets powerful enough to break at least Mach 9, pushing on ten. This of course would make him hard to steer and slow down normally, but that's where his wind powers impress along with his shield (which he built himself of course). Placing his shield in front of him at top speed and utilizing his wind powers, he creates a massive sonic boom in front of him that stops his speed entirely, and obliterates pretty much anything in front of him, something that took several attempts and many broken armor pieces including his old mask to perfect. His weapon of choice is an energized Axe with a hilt guard and a flail attached. The flail is usually there for show, but if pressed he can use it along with more wind power to turn it into a deadly accurate weapon!

Now onto: Kanaka, Toa Pohalan of Stone

Before you ask, yes his right arm looks like a Visorak, but no it is not a Visorak, it is simply his right arm. And yes he does drag it behind him when tired. Kanaka is what we would know as a Wild Man, being one of two natural residents of Bota Magna, he and the Toa of Earth have been friends and survival partners for a long long time. Slow and lumbering, he makes up for it by practically being invulnerable to anything, unyielding and unstoppable. You really can't stop the rock when Kanaka is is your foe. Not one to say much, he really only speaks when he has something important to say, and even then in as few words as possible. Stalwart and strong as the mountains themselves, Kanaka is also a gentle giant, often listening to the others complaints and offering helpful opinions on the mater, and he absolutly loves rahi of any kind.

His kit includes his Mask of the Wild, granting him the various abilities of any rahi he knows of. This allows him to not only be one of the few toa's of stone that can swim, but possibly the only Toa of Stone that can fly. He can communicate with all rahi and is often seen as the king of the beasts. His weapon is the mighty Gaia Mallet, a hammer that's heavy enough that lifting it feels like moving a mountain, something that another mountain wouldn't have much trouble with so naturally he's the only one who can wield it. He also has a tail which never stops surprising his team, and his right arm has claws that tear through anything. Beyond all that, he does tend to get ferocious in battle and is often seen going into a frenzy against his enemies, not only making him stronger but faster than he should be able to move at all! If you're going to take him out, take him out FAST, otherwise he'll unleash his rage and smash you into oblivion.

Next: Taniwa, Toa Pohalan of Earth

Most people say that in order to be a toa you have to be a matoran first. This is not true, and Toa Taniwa is proof of this. A former Rahi that was imbued with the power of stone and the intelligence of a toa from an accidental interaction with a toa stone. Taniwa is in a constant struggle between his more intelligent Toa half, and his instinctual beastly half, but it's a struggle he's gotten used to now. Possessing the strength of a beast and the intellect of a Toa puts him on par with a Toa Hordika, and like any Toa, he's only as mean as he looks if you're a threat. Sharp claws, gnashing teeth, night vision and toa armor to boot, Taniwa is a monster in battle, but a loyal friend to those he trusts.

He's a good doggy.

The only other thing that really needs mentioning is that he CAN talk...but while his head does most of the head things you think it would do, his tail is how he talks. A small mouth can be found on the end of his tail that only exists to speak and nothing else. Any other mouth function you can think of happens in the mouth in his head, the tail only talks. What's weirdest abut it is that he can talk to someone without facing them thanks to this, but it never stops being weird. Stealthy for sure, but weird.

He is still a toa though, and despite having no mask to speak of, he still has amazing control over his element of Earth. Kanaka and Taniwa have been friends for about as long as they can remember now, and you cannot have one without the other.

Now for: Kali, Toa Pohalan of Water.

Armored in bullet proof metal, and armed to the gills, Kali is not your usual Toa of Water. She has a million ways to kill you, and no mater what she's always planning how she can end as many people in any given room at any given time and get away with it. She's cold, she's calculating, she's meticulous and skilled. She's so talented in fact that it seems like the only thing she doesn't have is a sense of humor or a tolerance for sarcasm. Never without a weapon of some kind, no one is ever quite sure if they're safe around her. Not much is known about her personal life, and that's just how she likes it. In the end though she is a Toa for a reason, and if there's one thing she hates more than anything else, it's Evil. Turns out that deep down she has a heart of solid gold and a will to defend others, but she hides it well.

She's armed with a sniper rifle that fires shots of hyper compressed water that she supplies herself that can penetrate a 10 inch thick steal SLAB and has the precision to snipe a sand scarab from the other side of the desert. A shoulder mounted zamor launcher that fires special zamor spheres that explode on impact and cause a torrent of water to slam opponents into walls, flat onto the ground, or up into the air only to come crashing down hard. She ripped the head off a Vahki unit at one point and now uses it as a special disk launcher. Incredibly accurate and fast, this is a close quarters firing weapon when her enemies are too close for the rifle. Her mask is the Mask of Focus, allowing her to lock on to her enemies both physically and mentally. At range it negates drop off for shots fired and makes those shots unaffected by wind as well, and close up it allows her to single out priority targets and take them out with precision. And you'd better pray she doesn't run out of bullets, or she'll show you her own version of CQC, CQK. Close Quarters Killing. She'll unholster her blades from her ankle sheathes, and then focus a blade of pure water down them to cut and slice her opponents to death.

Now for a shocker: Matoro, Toa Pohalan of Ice

Yes, THAT Matoro, and he's just as confused as you are. After the death of Makuta, Hali found herself lamenting that it almost felt like Matoro's death was for nothing, as the Matoran universe was now essentially gone. These thoughts found they're way into the Mask of life and by it's own will, it spent it's own life to revive Matoro with a few additional gifts. Upon his revival, Matoro discovered he was not on his home planet, and in fact had somehow ended up on Bota Magna. He also soon discovered that his time as a Toa Ignika and a Toa Mahri had somehow been connected through the use of his masks from both times. After an untimely surprise from a Dinosaur Rahi near a cliff face, Matoro fell to his death only to wake up a moment later. He soon discovered his mask powers from the masks on his shoulders and the one on his head came together and he can now revive from deaths like nothing ever happend. A now more skeletal like build and the fact that death itself meant nothing to him as the mask power activated automatically upon death, Matoro started feeling like he shouldn't exist really, and like his very existence was some sort of sin. This lead to giving him a more macabre outlook on things but all in all, he's the same duty bound toa he was before.

His kit includes an enhanced version of his Mask of Astral Projection as well as his mask of Necromancy, both of which get activated at once whenever he dies giving him a combined "Mask" of Immortality. His Ignika sword is now a little weightier than before and he's made use of a recently discovered staff that allows him to share his power of Immortality with others if he needs to. His now bone-like armor makes him very light, but also surprisingly durable. Most long range weapon shots just pass right by him or right through him without causing damage, and despite looking like mostly bones, his powers of ice will chill you directly to the bone before he shatters you like glass with his mace like staff. For now that's all, but there is one more. Another 7th toa to look forward to, but I am exhausted and SPENT. So for now I tease you with the 7th along with the whole Toa Pohalan Team! Bye for now!

But what is a Pohalan??

It's the Matoran word for revival. This is the team fate has decided is going to revive the universe from it's massive collapse and revive the Great Spirit himself. They will soon learn however, that Mata Nui cannot exist without his other half...

[fortytworedvines]

Ao3 fic writers questions. I was tagged by @batnbreakfast and @slightlyintimidating , thank you both!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

109

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

409, 456

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Recent fics are Berena (holby City) and all creatures great and small (2020 version).

Previous fandoms include Ted lasso, doctor who, the durrells and cabin pressure.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Cherry cake (Ted lasso, Ted x trent)

But that's what happens (doctor who, thasmin)

I promise I will do my best (to be true to myself) (holby City, berena)

Observations of trent crimm (the independent) (Ted lasso, Ted x Rebecca)

Rocket ships and shooting stars (Ted lasso, Ted x trent).

These definitely show which the biggest fandom is, rather than my best work. Who would have thought Ted x trent would blow up like it did!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, though sometimes very late. I appreciate the comments I get so I want to show that!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

In her dreams (holby City, berena) which when I wrote it was canon compliant with bernie being dead and then serena died at the end of the fic.

I don't like angst and will almost always write it with a happy ending if I do have to write it.

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

Most of my other fics to be honest. The guy (or girl) gets the guy (or girl) and they live happily ever after.

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Only once and it was about an actor, not the fic.

9. Do you write smut?

When the mood takes me 😅

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've written, um, maybe 3 crossovers? None of them are particularly crazy.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone once asked to translate a thasmin one. I don't know if they ever did though.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Once, with the lovely and mysterious @slightlyintimidating . It was great fun! Definitely recommend

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

Haha... ha. Nope, can't answer that! I love all my ships.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but probably won't?

Happy to say that all my published fic is complete. At the moment, I'd just like to be in the mood to write anything at all really.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm pretty good at keeping people in character.

I think my dialogue is OK most of the time?

17. What are your writing weaknesses

Description. Urgh. Just imagine something in your head and pretend I described it please.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't think it works. If you're fluent and can write something that's not a mess, your audience might not be fluent to understand it. And if you're not then just... no. Write it in whatever language your fic is in and say its that other language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter. Didn't publish it as I didn't even realise fanfic was a thing back then.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Might be recency bias, but Home Front (acgas, Siegfried x audrey). I reread it recently and loved it. It has a good plot, the characters are solid, the OCs are good, the setting is good, the animals are lovely.

I'm doing this on my phone and I can't rewrite the questions out. Sorry. If you would like to answer these, consider yourself tagged!

[drstonetrivia]

Chapter 224 Trivia

Happy birthday Senku! He's finally in space! 🎉🚀

We can see the approximate distance to Treasure Island from the mainland in this shot, the only other indication of where the island is is in the (non-canon) Reboot side story. My guess is the exact island used is Aogashima.

Another summary of the journey, this time including prehistory. We have depictions from the most recent ice age (though could be later, mammoths and sinomegaceros were around for a while afterwards, even in Japan), early civilization similar to Ishigami Village, and ancient Rome.

For the parts present in the manga itself, I've added the chapter numbers to each of the panels.

The books Senku has here are "General Chemistry" and "たのしい 科学" ("Fun Science"). The latter may be a reference to a children's science education book series named "たのしい! 科学のふしぎ なぜ?どうして?" ("Fun! The Mysteries of Science: Why? How?").

We get a glimpse of the docking system here. Possibly based off the SSVP, as it was used with almost all the Soyuz craft and Russian space stations to connect modules.

This docking area then opens up, becoming the transfer tunnel so astronauts can enter/exit.

I suppose the astronauts were completely naked in their space suits so that when the revival fluid is released, their skin will definitely get touched?

I can't think of any other reason for it, but it does make the previous chapter funnier.

Senku's petrification scars are now fully healed!

(Stanley's are too, poor Xeno is the only one with them now.)

The mystery of how Stanley is meant to use these "cigarettes" remains.

These belts are the middle part of the external space suit, so it's probably how the top and bottom parts are locked in. After they change, they tighten the fabric inside so that it stays attached to them.

I'm not entirely sure why they need it, since current space suits usually just attach the top to the bottom directly.

They're using both CRT and LCD screens. My guess is the LCDs are more convenient (it's easier to display things from computer->LCD than it is to a CRT, also text is more legible due to the pixels), but they still have several CRTs from earlier so they may as well use them too.

Stanley asks about their oxygen supply, meaning they may be limited until the rocket is assembled. Normally, there's recycling systems onboard to collect waste products and convert it into clean air or water, but Stanley and Xeno's discussion makes me think they don't have one.

Obviously, the astronauts have new outfits, but they don't seem to follow any previous astronaut outfits depicted in the series.

Senku's popped collar is still present, but now he lacks his signature equation.

Stanley's outfit changed the least, it remains form-fitting and solid black, with white gloves.

Oddly, Kohaku is still wearing a dress in space, but it's a lot neater and more modern than her previous roughly-hemmed one. She's also got both long socks and boots without a heel.

The spray dryer does a similar preservation process to what they did when freeze-drying ramen, however this process is better for foods (and pharmaceuticals) that are sensitive to temperature.

Here, they dry a liquid (like ramen broth) using a hot gas, turning it into a powder.

In true Francois fashion, the ramen packets made by them contain more meat and garnishes than the ones Byakuya ate. They're also visibly more delicious-looking.

Without regular boosts, the ISS would fall to Earth in around 6 months, however this number can vary a lot depending on atmospheric conditions and the relative angle/position of the ISS to the direction of travel.

Basically, unless someone/something continued to control it almost immediately, the ISS is definitely gone.

(Rei didn't, the Reboot isn't canon.)