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itoshiexx · 1 year ago

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perfect

synopsis: rin remembers how perfect you are for him.

pairing: itoshi rin x afab!reader | words: 2.6k | warnings: established relationship, afab reader (referred to as "girl"), pet names (baby, pretty, love), fluff, smut, oral + fingering (reader receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, praising!!!, emotional sex

notes: i really wasn't gonna post this today but i'm EAGER. this is my first attempt at writing smut in english so pls be kind lol idk if this is good or like the worst shit ever. this is kind of a part 2 for this so i recommend you read it :))

masterlist

people could say itoshi rin was many things: cold, distant, a soccer star, a fan of horror, the number one. and he agreed with all of these. but he was also passionate, extremely determined and, most of all, hopelessly in love with you. and even though he was cold and distant, that was not the case when it came to your relationship.

with you, rin showed all of that passion and determination by loving you in his own gentle way, always so full of devotion, pouring every ounce of the overflowing feelings he harbored in his chest for you only. because he did feel — and intensely, at last. that’s why he always wanted to make you feel happy, and safe, and loved. he wanted you to be confident and to value yourself just as much as he valued you.

that’s why sex with rin felt like some divine moment.

as you stand there, dumbfounded with the proximity and his words, he takes the opportunity to close the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that makes you melt in his arms almost instantly. he has this weird effect on you; one that makes you surrender all that you are to him until you become one.

“will you let me?” he murmured once you separated, sounding a little breathless. you, on the other hand, were a dizzying mess, unable to form coherent sentences with the way the air got knocked out of your lungs.

“w-what…?” you stutter, and rin’s little smirk makes your legs shake.

“will you let me show you how much i love you? how much i cherish you?”

you’re pretty sure your heart stops for a few seconds before it races inside your chest like an orchestra. a tiny nod is the only answer you can muster, but rin’s not satisfied.

“use your words, pretty.” he backs away, and, dreading any further distance, you’re quick to say “yes!” in a slightly pitched voice. rin smiles in that delicate way he only does around you, and his thumbs trace small circles on your waist as he hums, “good girl”.

you feel goosebumps as one of his hands goes up, tracing the curve of your body until it rests on your cheek, and then his mouth is on yours again, more demanding, trying to absorb all that you are willing to give. his tongue invades your mouth, and you moan when his wet muscle laces with yours in a lewd dance. your hands fly to the nape of his neck, where you tug at the black strands of hair, and the way he groans sends a shiver down your spine and spreads heat to the middle of your legs.

but you still have a little bit of rationality left, so you gently push him apart to say, “we’re gonna miss dinner if we keep going,” even if your uneven breathing says how much you want to keep going. however, rin is also very stubborn, and, (un)fortunately, knows your body very well.

“we can just reschedule,” he states, simply. “i think right now this is more important.”

you still try to reason, “baby, we can have sex any time…”

“it’s not about the sex.” he frowns. “i want you to remember how precious you are.” a gentle kiss on your jaw. “i want to worship you.” another, and then one more at your neck. it’s unconscious, the way you slightly turn your head to give him more access. “i want you to feel so much more than pretty. i want you to feel beautiful.”

if the tender nibs and the open mouthed kisses he leaves on the column of your throat aren’t enough to overwhelm you, his words sure can. there is no ounce of strength in your body to fight him anymore, so your answer comes in the form of a needy kiss, tugging at the collar of his shirt so he can be closer, because there was never such a thing as close enough. rin relishes in the way you eagerly try to devour him, more than happy to give you all of him.

he was only ever yours to begin with.

and he makes sure you know by matching your kisses with just as much fervor, tugging at your waist until he can grind his growing need on your core, wanting you to feel just how much he desires you. it’s not a surprise he is rock hard in his pants, but this is all about you, so he can wait. he will wait until you are beneath him, writhing in pleasure to the point he’s all you can think about.

rin is caring when slowly he pushes you to the bed, being careful not to put all his weight on you. his knee finds home in the middle of your legs, and he feels lightheaded with the way you grind against it, already desperate for some kind of friction.

his lips go back to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to your collarbone. you can feel the plushness of his pink flesh softly hover over your skin, and it lights up as if something is dancing beneath it, this sort of giddy feeling that staggers you. it’s always there whenever rin touches you, though you can’t say you don’t love it.

then, he’s sucking the mound of one of your breasts, while his hand is occupied fondling the other. it leaves a faint purple bruise on your skin, but you can’t find it in you to care — instead, you whine in approval, wishing for more of the feeling of his teeth grazing you, eager to bear his possessive marks. the stream of hickeys he leaves around your tits also makes you a little greedy, and you want to scream to make him take off your bra and give attention to your perky nipples.

and rin is excellent at reading things. on the field, it was an admirable trait by both teammates and rivals, used as a powerful tool for his goals and more often than not leading his team to victory. in your relationship, it made you feel all warm and fuzzy, the way he was so observant to your needs and the little quirks that made you so you. in bed, it felt a lot like salvation, for he was always aware of what you wanted and needed, sometimes even before you did.

the first flick of his tongue on your bud nearly makes you wail, and you can almost feel the smirk forming on his stupidly handsome face. “needy, aren’t you?” he coos, though it holds no bite. you are ready to retort, but any words die in your mouth when he licks again, circling your areola and gently scraping his teeth at your nipple.

he gives both your tits the attention they deserve, and by the time rin is done, your arousal is already pooling on your panties, leaving you squirming on the bed while touching every part of him you could reach. suddenly, you become conscious that he’s still dressed, so you take it as a challenge to unbutton his shirt until you can finally see his toned torso.

“baby…” he sighs when you scrape your nails through his chest, all the way down to his perfect abs. before you can reach his pants, however, he separates from you, taking off the shirt that was bothering him.

his hand laces with yours. “not yet.”

but you are impatient. you need him so, so bad it actually hurts. the ache in your pussy can only be solved when his cock splits you open, and for a moment, you seriously consider telepathy, but his voice in your head burns like a fresh memory. use your words, pretty. i like to hear you.

and who are you to deny your boyfriend?

“rinnie,” you whisper, “please.”

“hm? please what?” he arches his eyebrow, hands squeezing your hips.

you bite your lower lips, embarrassed, but answer nonetheless, “please fuck me.”

rin flashes you a bright grin that can rival the sun, and he kisses you once more as a reward, all while his hands slowly descend to your thighs, taking your panties off along the way. he feels impossibly harder when he sees the strings of your arousal on the fabric, moreso when you open your legs for him to see your quivering hole that’s just dying to be filled by him.

“fuck, look at you…” he groans, sliding his fingers through your folds. your moans are the sweetest sound he ever heard. “so wet. so pretty. all for me, hm?”

“yes, baby, yes… please, hah— please!” you whine, slightly desperate. he curls one finger inside of you, and you could almost cry. it feels good, so good, but it’s not enough. “m-more… need more!”

rin is feeling generous, so he attends to your pleas by shoving three fingers at once. you wail at the pleasure of having more of him, his long digits hitting your sweet spots in ways you never could.

“taking my fingers so well, love,” he whispers in your ear. “you’re so pretty. my pretty girl.”

you shudder with the praise, clenching around his fingers and feeling closer than ever when he uses his thumb to start rubbing your clit. it doesn’t take much time to be hit with your orgasm, one that leaves your whole body trembling and gives rin one of his favorite sights.

beautiful.

he doesn’t even let you say anything, kissing you again, prodding his tongue inside your mouth and muffling any surprised gasps by the sudden invasion. rin’s wet muscle laces with yours in a slow, sensual dance that makes both of you moan in union, the sound traveling all the way down and keeping your arousal alive.

he keeps going until the lack of air forces you to part. you’re panting, but your eyes search for his teal ones, always a pretty shade of aquamarine that makes you crumble. when you see the hazy look on his orbs, you’re sure he will take out his cock and fuck you already, but instead he starts giving little kisses down your tummy, all the way to your inner thighs.

“don’t tease,” you whimper. “just get inside me alread— ah!” you scream when his tongue makes contact with your sensitive clit. rin licks a long stripe along your folds that makes you quiver and shut up.

“wanna taste you first, pretty.” his eyes find yours, “please?”

and, again, who are you to deny your boyfriend?

especially when he says it like that.

so you agree, and rin eagerly goes down on you, slurping through your wet pussy like that’s all he needs to survive. he prods his tongue inside you, in and out, motioning the movement his dick should be making, and you take a moment to realize he is rutting his hips on the mattress every time he does.

then, he laps at your clit once again, twirling his tongue in circular motions that make your eyes roll back and your toes curl. you can barely contain your moans, tugging at his hair and crying out loud when his satisfied groan sends vibrations to your nerves.

his flow becomes quicker, sloppier, and the wet sounds are so lewd that you can feel your second orgasm building up in that familiar tingling feeling that sends you to the edge.

“baby, baby… ‘m cumming, ‘m gonna cum…!” you cry, gripping the bed sheets like your life depends on it.

that’s all the incentive he needs to keep on going, sweeping his tongue on your bud until he can taste the familiar flavor of you cum and sense your thighs almost crushing his head.

he’d die a happy man.

your body goes limp, and you’re gasping for air like you’d just ran a marathon. rin hovers over you to appreciate the scene, and with the way his cock twitches inside his boxers, rin thinks he appreciates this — making you come undone — a little too much. he’s sure his tip is red and leaking pre.

he gives you some time to recover by slowly unbuckling his belt, taking off his pants and throwing them somewhere on the floor. his boxers go next, and just like he thought, the spongy head of his dick is swollen and in desperate need of relief.

he said he would wait until you were beneath him, writhing in pleasure to the point he’s all you could think about, before giving him some attention. so he doesn’t stop you from putting your hands around his girth, hissing when you pump him a few times.

your eyes are blurry, but they look up at him with so much love and desire he could very much cum right there. god, how much he fucking loves you. it’s honestly ridiculous.

rin lets you pull him closer and cage him with your legs behind his hips.

“ready, baby?” he asks, as if you aren’t aching for his cock.

“god, please— i need you. i need you inside of me,” you all but wail.

rin thrusts into you at once, and you nearly lose your mind.

he’s long and thick, reaching all of your swollen spots without much effort. you can feel his veins dragging along your walls, creating even more friction, unconsciously rolling your hips to get more of this feeling. rin moans in your ear, and he does it again when you squeeze him tighter.

“always so tight f’me,” he sighs, dreamily. “god, you are perfect. you are perfection itself, baby.”

“rin, rin…!” is all you can muster to say.

he presses you harder on the mattress, rutting into your cunt and relishing at the feeling of your velvet walls sucking him in and gripping his shaft like a vice. you’re scraping your nails along his back and shoulders, looking for grounding, but he keeps pounding the head of his cock in that one specific spot that makes you see not only stars, but whole galaxies.

“rin, rinnie, p-please… r-righ— right there!”

at this point you are babbling nonsense, rin being the only thing on your mind as you chase your third orgasm of the night. “fuck, pretty…” he curses, feeling the neglected coil on his lower abdomen threatening to snap. he can’t really help it, though. you feel too good. too perfect.

and all his.

the constant bullying of his cock on your sweetest spot, the overwhelming feelings inside you and the sweet praises given by your boyfriend on you ear make you come apart, and you scream with the devastating pleasure that seeps through your whole body, like you’re floating on cloud nine. rin hisses when your walls clench him tighter, and seeing you reach your high gets him to spill his load inside of you, finally getting his much deserved release with white hot spurts on your warm core. he fucks both of you throughout your orgasms, and when you start to feel a bit overstimulated, you wiggle him out of you, snapping him from his daze. he collapses.

the familiar weight of his body on top of yours is comforting, along with the soft tune of his breathing on the crook of your neck. you scratch his scalp lightly, your other hand patting his back oh so lovingly. he’s so happy — to have you, to feel you, to love you.

“i hope you never doubt how beautiful and amazing you are, love,” he whispers, not daring to break the silence.

you say nothing, embracing him tighter. your silent thank you.

“but if you ever forget,” he continues, taking you by surprise, “i’m always here to remind you.”

tagging @doobea and @auratux bc they voted for this

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toruro · 1 year ago

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I refreshed my dash at a great time lmao. Could I please request prompt number 55 from the prompt list with Minghao?

(I swear this is not to torture you lmao. If it makes you feel any better, this'll likely put me through it too lol.)

[22:34]

pairing. x. minghao x reader

tags. smut (18+), vibrators, pet names (pretty thing)

request. prompt #55: “what? does that feel good?” (drabble game)

a/n. fuck uou when i posted this drabble game, in my head i was like 'if some1 sends me smth abt hao i might just explode.' and that's exactly what u did. rj u made me blow up.

"stay put," minghao murmurs, a cool hand pressing down on your bare stomach as your hips fruitlessly chase after his touch.

"hao," you whine, trying your best to buck your hips in the air against his tight hold. your shirt and pants (that you worse just half an hour ago when you bid your friends goodbye) are long forgotten on your shared bedroom floor, leaving you topless and in thin cotton panties that cling to your slick folds.

minghao watches the fabric press against your core, your wetness leaving an obvious stain right in the middle, and almost as if he's in awe, he flicks against your clit over the panties. you whimper at the contact, pressing your heels into the mattress to push upwards against his hold, body instinctively craving for more.

minghao only pushes you back down harder and this time, the whimper that rips from your throat is nothing but depraved. you meet your boyfriends dark eyes and put, "m-more, please."

"more?" he asks, raising a brow, but you know better than to know that it's a clarification. it's a warning.

you hear the buzzing first, and see the red bullet shaped vibrator a second later. something boils in your belly, and you feel your muscles might give out from the way you're trying your best not to squirm.

minghao slowly crawls down your body so that his upper half is settled neatly between your legs. pressing his cheek against your warm thigh, a shudder ripples through your limbs when hot, wet kisses pepper the skin near your throbbing cunt.

"please," you mewl again, your voice even more broken an hoarse this time. you're right there, so wet, so desperate, and minghao simply watches you struggle for the smallest hint of relief through your soiled panties.

"hold on pretty thing," he mutters, and you aren't prepared for the way the vibrator meets your clit in an instant. you're pulled from deep, desperate ache to immediate pleasure and it has your senses heightening but somehow also going bleary.

you seem to feel everything in high definition—the brush of minghao's hair against your thigh, his wet tongue against your skin, the cool metal that's feeding pleasure to your insatiable core. but your mind is hazy, pleasure overriding any coherent thought you have and all you can think is minghao, minghao, minghao.

"hao ..." you whisper without aim, hips jerking when he presses the vibrator down in a new angle that has your soft sounds of pleasure quickly turning into something louder, more passionate.

"what? does that feel good?"

that bastard, you think to yourself when you look down at him as he wears a pretty grin. of course it feels good—that's why you're writhing under him, moaning his name in short and quick gasps and—

"w-why'd you do that?" you nearly shriek when he pulls the buzzing device away from your sloppy cunt.

minghao only gives you a dark look and suddenly your brash words are crawling back down your throat. "c'mon, you gotta answer my question. does it feel good?"

this time, he presses the vibrator harder against your clit without a word of warning, clicking the setting up one higher so that the buzzing reverberates so deep that you can feel it in your bones. "o-oh my god," you whimper, one hand gripping at his hair. "fuck hao, feels s'good—so good—ah!"

you cry out when one finger presses against your fluttering folds, sliding up and down lazily as he collects the slick. a low hum rumbles in minghao's chest as he slowly watches his fingers unravel you, thread by thread.

"that's what i thought, pretty thing."

#minghao drabbles #minghao x reader #xu minghao x reader #minghao smut #minghao imagines #svt smut #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #minghao scenarios #minghao x you #💌 drabbles #✰ hwanghyunjinenthusiast #<rj3 #mdni

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glitterclan · 1 month ago

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OH MAN RAINBOWCLAN… i was such a fan of the series!!! glad to see you picked clangen back up (assuming you even put it down).

rainbowclan was another instance where i struggled to become attached to my clangen characters and make a proper story out of the events that generated. if you watch it, nothing really happens story wise, and so i tried loading the videos with funny edits to make it entertaining. really the only major plot event that came out of rainbowclan in the 100+ moons it was ran was the two dark forest siblings (i forgot their names LOL) because it was hard for me to come up with plots on the spot in the middle of recording. i also am super socially awkward and i struggle with words a lot, even when talking to myself on a recording, and it required heavy editing to make myself sound coherent. and i got really sick of editing really quickly xd

i much rather prefer this (glitterclan's) style of clangen storytelling, because i get to allow myself a lot more time to really think about events and how to connect them to make a story. i also really like writing comic-form stories. even only at moon 26 i have a strong attachment to all of the characters because i have had the opportunity to flesh each and every one of them out! it's gonna suck when more characters die LOL

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mayashesfly · 1 year ago

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"It really tries everything to prevent the truth from spreading and those who know the truth are its main target."

This sentence is very interesting to apply when it comes to Ch4's Mystery Labyrinth.

The people who knew the truth before Yomi send Yakou the letter was Dr. Huesca, Yomi, and The Hitman/Aide.

While Dr. Huesca's ML murderous influence expressed itself by him planning to kill someone to take his place in order to leave Kanai Ward, Yomi's ML murderous influence expressed itself by him torturing/killing other people.

Aide is also the same as Yomi before he dies. (considering how this ML is 4 years old, making it pretty strong, it makes sense that two of them keeps making mysteries I suppose)

But then Yomi send the letter to Yakou, making the people who knew the truth four before Aide dies.

This time, Yomi's ML murderous intent was also directed at Dr. Huesca now that he's planning to escape (escaping his isolated state) and Yakou's ML murderous intent was to kill Dr. Huesca, even at the cost of himself.

This would kill the two people that knows the truth that doesn't make new mysteries. Keeping Yomi, who keeps making mysteries, alive.

Maybe Aide's death, the other person who knew the truth and contributed to the making of new mysteries alongside Yomi, was a trigger for the ML influence to take this path?

Another part of the Mystery Labyrinth's purpose is to create more mysteries after all. But it doesn't necessarily have to be connected to that Mystery Labryinth.

Also, that part with Vivia is so intriguing and it hurts.

Vivia is the most aware about the Book of Death and the Mysteries Labyrinths. As well as Ghosts and Lost Souls (if you think about the Lost Souls looks very similar to Qs. And similar to the way MLs can absorb the souls of the people trapped in there, the Lost Souls can drag the soul of another person into the Afterlife with them if you touch them. IDK what to do with this but it's interesting nonetheless)

Vivia already treads the fine line between the living and the dead. So the fact that in his entire life he is also treading the fine line between not knowing the truth and knowing the truth and possibly even succumbing to the ML influence, is absolutely terrifying and heart wrenching to think about.

But in a way, it cycles my thoughts to the WDO again.

Vivia has such an intimate knowledge of Death and Mystery Labryinths that he has a self-defense mechanism to combat the ML's influence. While this self-defense mechanism could've been formed unconsciously, it also possible it was formed intentionally.

How would the WDO even form if someone didn't know just how much unsolved mysteries affect their reality? Isn't it strange that the Book of Death is kept at the WDO's book vault in all places? The book that gives access to the Mystery Labyrinth being in the place that fights mysteries itself?

I honestly have so many thoughts about the Mystery Labyrinth now because of this. But it's hard organizing them in a comprehensive and coherent manner that's understandable.

Like,

The way Mystery Labyrinths seem to isolate people to hide the truth (Dr. Huesca going into hiding and being aggressive in general. Yakou not confiding to anyone in the NDA. Makoto)

The way people who knew the truth early on can do something that goes against hiding the truth before the ML's influence becomes strong enough to affect them. (Worshiper getting another witness to come with him before he becomes a copycat killer. The Aetheria Trio learning and knowing the truth together and trying to make the Peacekeepers reopen the case before they become the killers.)

The way Ryo's words imply that the more victims succumb to the mystery labyrinth the more stronger it becomes. Another factor on how strong a ML can become. (Worshiper kills someone after the Nail Man killed two people. His crime occurred 5 months after the original ML. Aetheria Trio killed Karen 6 months after the original ML. That's a one kill and one month difference.)

(Though perhaps the number of people who know the mystery affects the strength of the ML as well? But instead of increasing its strength, it decreases its strength instead?)

There's a lot of moving parts when it comes to Mystery Labyrinths. And since there's alot of Mystery Labyrinths we know, there's alot of things to theorize about them.

Containing spoiler for Vivia's DLC + Rain code (and theories about the mystery labyrinth)

Warning// mentioned suicide

Well, I discovered something strange in Vivia's DLC, which is that the elevator moves while both people in the elevator are not real.

Vivia left his body outside the building. The characteristic of Vivia's forte is that it cannot interact with anything, so who presses the elevator button?

Ryo can push the button. But if it was Ryo, wouldn't that be the opposite of what she wanted to do? She mentioned that she could only stop the elevator in the middle way to give the people in the elevator time to think.

Ryo can only communicate and be conscious when someone is in the elevator with her. In Vivia's flashback, she was crossing the street (without paying attention to the waiting signal) and a car drove past her (no reaction). Based on what I read from Japanese ghost stories, she was in a loop of repeating her behavior before she died. Before she died, she walked the same path (that Vivia followed her) until she got into the elevator.

If Ryo could press the button herself, before the victim entered the elevator, she could close the elevator door to stop them. It's also possible that pressing the button is part of her loop, and wait, I'll turn my thoughts to the theory of mystery labyrinth (ML).

We all know what is needed to create ML is:

1) target mystery. 2) the soul(s) of the culprit(s) who created the mystery.

The culprit's soul can be added more (for example, The worshiper's soul is in the ML The Nail Man killing). The soul of a person who committed suicide can still appear in the labyrinth. In chapter 0 we have the choice of Zilch "kill someone and then commit suicide", in chapter 2 we have Karen confessing to suicide, and in chapter 3 the choice of "Sachi committed suicide". As long as the suicide remains a mystery that is not yet solved, it is still eligible to establish ML.

The longer ML exists, the more dangerous it will be because it implants murderous thoughts into the heads of people who learn about it and affects the real world. Thus, we have learned additional conditions to develop ML and create new ML:

1) the length of time that ML exists 2) people know too much about it

The MLs that appear in Rain Code (except Zilch, The Priest and Icardi) can all be linked to the culprit who is under the influence of another mystery and knows information (who/why/how) that others do not know.

Chap 1:

Original ML: the serial killing.

Time till someone other than the culprit commits crimes: 5 months.

Note: The worshipper knew about the rope mark, but he didn't know much about how, why or whodunnit so he was just a copycat. His method is copy, his ML is mixed with the Nail Man.

Chap 2:

Original ML: Karen killed Aiko.

Time till the new ML appears: 6 months.

Note: those girls knew who killed Aiko (maybe how). Kurumi didn't..

Chap 4:

Original ML: Yakou's wife got killed.

Time till the new ML appears: 3 years.

Note: Yomi told Yakou all about who and how his wife got killed.

Let's assume this DLC has ML, then it has met the conditions of target mystery, soul, time (5 years) and people who are curious about it. People who know about that suicide learn about the building -> they know whodunnit and howdunnit -> affected by ML (Maybe they also have suicidal thoughts and ML makes them worse....same way as depression, I think?).

Those who died also created separate MLs but then merged into one with the original ML because they all died the same way. (similar to copycat killer merging into one with nail man killing).

Back to who pressed the elevator button, it was due to the influence of ML, maybe it caused Ryo to unconsciously press or run automatically. It had enough conditions to invade the real world and Vivia coincidentally knew too much about it. So when someone meets the standards to enter the elevator, if they do not press the button, the elevator will still automatically take them to the top floor.

Is Ryo part of ML? This depends on when ML was formed, but I think she does (without knowing about it). Those who had a death wish vaguely saw the girl in the red raincoat, they remembered Ryo and Ryo was indeed walking near that building <- ML uses her as a reminder of those suicides.

#may asher rambles #rain code #rain code spoilers #dr huesca #yomi hellsmile #yakou furio #hitman zilch #vivia twilight #aetheria trio #there's a reason why I tend to hyperfixate on a single part when I analyze/theorize lol #I can lose the bigger ball pretty easily since organization is not in my middle name #I hope this is at least coherent enough to be understandable though

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commander-rahrah · 1 year ago

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Talking to the Moon: Part II

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~6900 (haha.. whoops again) Warnings: suggestive, swearing, PTSD, trauma, past/implied abuse, fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, death, blood drinking, combat

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here

Summary: Set in Act II (pre-Moonrise Towers), Astarion and Tav/Reader wake up in the Last Light Inn after he makes amends. Astarion begins to realize what he is feeling for Tav/Reader is different then anything he has every felt before, and it is a continuous internal battle for him in more ways than one.

Notes: This is still a GN!Reader/Tav in second perspective with no names or y/n. The backstory established in chapter 1 still continues — Reader/Tav is Selûne blessed; noble with only a few specific appearance descriptors used (silver hair/star like freckles). This update is a combination of like 3 little daily headcannon dreams I had while playing the game the first time, and I felt like they all flowed so well together to create what would be a series of moments for Astarion to realize he was indeed falling for Tav before his confession scene that happens after Moonrise towers!

I hope to write more for this specific pairing, as I want to add even more to the confession scene from Astarion. And also the resolution for Reader and Shadowheart. I know how it all ends in my head, but I am loving writing it out and sharing with you all! ♡♡♡

P.S.: I keep slipping little Shadowheart x Karlach moments in... because I love the idea of them being together. But you can take it however you want to LOL.

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

Astarion blinked awake, slowly, peacefully. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened. He usually bolted awake on instinct after finishing his trance.

But this morning he was greeted by a comfortable silence. Stretching his neck, he smiled as he took in your still sleeping form — hair tousled with sleep. One hand clutching your pillow while the other rested near his own, outstretched. Had you held his hand as you were sleeping? He couldn’t recall once he had fallen into his trance.

As if sensing him looking at you, your eyes fluttered open before your lips curved softly at the sight of him.

It made his half-dead heart flutter.

“You talk in your sleep.” You mumbled with a voice still hoarse and drowsy.

“I do? What did I say?” A knot formed in his stomach as he thought of the possibilities — the damning things he could have said.

“It was mostly muttering. You weren’t very coherent… but you sounded afraid. So I…” You flexed your fingers next to his own hand before trailing off.

You had reached out to comfort him whilst he slept. He swallowed as he looked at both of your hands still stretched out to the middle. Before he pulled it back, intertwining it with his other one laying on chest. “Apologies. I’ve never had a bed partner before… You must have slept terribly.”

“No, not at all. I haven’t sleep this well in months actually.” You said as you stretched your arms over your head, starting to sit up on the soft mattress.

Astarion agreed silently in his head. Not that he would admit it so freely out loud.

The pair of you sat in silence for a moment, your bodies still slightly laid across the mattress as you tried to will yourselves to start the day. Occasionally, he could feel you glance over to him. After mustering up some courage, he looked over at you with his red eyes round and vulnerable.

You studied the features of his face for a moment, before your eyebrows crinkled. “You must be starving. You haven’t fed.”

“No… but I’ll be fine. I’m sure some evil cultist will pull a sword on us and I will get to shred their throat.” He let out his nervous laugh, but the burning in his throat was uncomfortable.

“Astarion. You need but ask—“

“I can’t — I couldn’t.” Not after how he had acted last night. The shame that had ripped through him still lingered, his skin turning hot again as he remembered.

Then you were closing the empty space between, shuffling on your knees across the mattress as you got closer to him. “You need it to survive, you can’t help it that you’re—“

“A monster?” His lips curled, before he flashed his face away from you.

Your voice was quiet, laced with an ache he couldn’t understand. “I don’t think you’re a monster. Have I made you feel like one?”

He thought of your face that fateful night when you learned what he truly was. Surprise had flickered across your face, but never fear or hatred. You had quickly turned the tables as you were then calming him down. As if you hadn’t just woken up to him looming over you, fangs bared like a wild animal.

You hadn’t treated him any differently at all. Perhaps you asked a few curious questions and graced him with some teasing with that sharp tongue of yours. But you had believed him and accepted him as he was. Trusted him.

He wanted to hate you for it. For not seeing him as a wild, dangerous creature. For not just treating him like every other person did when they realized what he truly was.

It would be easier — to hate you.

But he couldn’t. He would never.

“No. You haven’t.”

“Astarion,” You grabbed onto his wrist delicately, your touch featherlight and a bit hesitant. “Feed.”

“Alright, if you insist.”

“I do.” You laid back out onto the bed, stretching out your neck for him. He swallowed, already eyeing your pulse point that was beckoning him closer.

His throat bobbed up and down as he pushed his blankets aside and eliminated the lingering space left between you. His fingertips brushed over the puncture wounds that lingered on your neck now — he had committed to always feeding from the same spot, so to avoid further marking your perfect form. His fingers trailed up your jawline, your cheekbones and into your hairline. “You’re too good to me,” He murmured into your skin, pressing a soft kiss on your neck. Surprised by his own intimacy, he pulled back to look you in the eye. “Are you ready?”

You nodded, fisting the sheet you laid on in preparation.

Astarion moved his body half over yours and sunk his teeth in, piercing through the soft flesh until your hot blood rushed into his mouth. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him as the sweet taste flooded all of his senses.

But he had become better at it — not as frantic as his first time. Not as desperate. One of his hands lingered in your hair, the other wrapping around your waist carefully as he pulled himself closer into you. The thin fabric of your nightclothes let him feel your warm, soft skin beneath.

The thundering of your heart was echoing in his ears and down into his own chest. But your shallow breaths were acting as a timer. He needed to stay aware of you, to not push you or your body too far. He became increasingly aware of your hands tightening in the sheets and toes curling as you let out a whimper. Both pain and pleasure intermixed.

He realized that so often while he had fed from you, the lines got blurred. Lately, you both had been buried deep in each other whilst he was sucking and lapping at your neck — bringing you both into bliss for very different reasons. And though those moments with you did bring him into euphoria, something no one else’s touch or body had done in a century, it still brought that familiar tremble. A single thought that spoiled the high and made him wish he could peel off his skin.

He didn’t want to cross that line today, not if he didn’t have to.

With a gasp, he pulled away from your neck. He lingered close to it for a moment, breathing in your scent once more before licking at the punctures to stop any lingering blood from pooling out. Sitting back up, his tongue went over his lips and teeth cleaning up the red stains. “Are you alright?”

Your voice was a gentle whisper, purposefully calm to reassure him. “Yes. Are you?”

“Feeling better already.” He wiped at the corners of his mouth carefully, before asking, “Do you need — would you like me to make you feel better?”

“It’s nothing that my amulet and a strong cup of tea won’t fix.” You gripped the edge of the bed as you sat up, fingers already clasping at the golden amulet glittering off of your neck — it glowed slightly at your touch. The colour slowly returned to your cheeks, and the open puncture marks closed — leaving behind the purple-red bruises from his mouth and small scars from his fangs.

“Right. But I got mine… do you want yours too?” His pale fingers swirled nervously on his own knee.

“Astarion, this isn’t transactional.” You said with a shake of your head.

No, that couldn’t be. Everything had a cost, everything was an exchange. He knew that, he lived by that.

“What?” A bewildering look crossed his face, his head cocked to the side. He was sure he hadn’t heard you right.

But you said firmly, “I don’t expect anything in return. Not ever.”

“Then why in the heavens do you let me do this!?” He asked exasperatedly, his voice a little louder than he intended.

You took a large breath before staring back into his eyes, your stare and voice unwavering. “Because I care about you. And you told me heartbreaking stories of how you spent years eating rats and bugs. Being tortured and cut into. I may not ever truly know what you went through Astarion… but I understand. So every moment that I spend with you, I want to show you the opposite.”

“Someone will take advantage of that you know. Take advantage of you —that goodness you insist on.” Your blood in his stomach turned sour, as he knew that someone was him.

“I know. They have and they will. But I will not change my mind on this. And despite what you think or expect, I will not treat you like a monster or a thing. You are a person, albeit a complicated one, but aren’t we all.”

He blinked at your sudden outburst, mouth open slightly as his mind scrambled for some witty response, some quick line. But he failed too as you continued your admission.

“I wish you could see yourself how I see you. Not just the drawings I gave to you when you told me you wished to see your reflection…,” Those charcoal drawings of his face were carefully tucked into the pages of a leather book in his pack. His most prized possession. “One day, when you are ready to hear it I will tell you.”

Astarion remained silent. He was gobsmacked, his eyes wide. He felt like he was still processing, his mind sputtering and his heart thundering from your confessions. You cared for him? You understood him? And there was more to hear? Whenever he was ready… whatever that meant.

The only attachment he had planned for was your bodies intertwining in a false passion. Not that it had been very fake as of late… But everything else.

Astarion was suddenly very out of his element.

“Have a left you speechless, my dear? Maybe I should make unprompted speeches more often.” You smirked, though your face flushed a brilliant shade. He had been silent for too long, so you had tried to make things light and airy.

He slipped back into his usual cadence as his face broke into a grin, a dark chuckle escaping him. “So vicious, darling. Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.”

He prayed he wasn’t.

• • •

It was a hard few days in the Shadowlands, searching for a way to break the curse and edging ever closer to Moonrise Towers.

It was brutal here, punishing. Each turn more dangerous than the next.

There were no animals for him to feed on, so Astarion sheepishly continued to accept your offers. And there was no exchange as you promised, except quiet gratitude from him and an even more quiet understanding from you.

It was bewildering and mystifying. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why you would choose to do that for him.

He could understand you jumping to the aid and rescue of the Tiefling children, helpless animals, the young couples desperately in love. They were good, they were pure.

But he was none of those things. He was wretched and broken. He craved violence and vengeance. His touch was a curse for you both. And he had used you, manipulated you. And maybe you knew it.

Yet you were still there.

And the cursed lands kept reminding him of that.

Everywhere they looked he seemed to find pairs. Engraved wedding rings enchanted to protect the other. Skeleton couples laid next to each other in their final moments. Like the pair that died on the rooftop, their boney fingers still intertwined. The handwritten poems cataloging the love they held for each other sat next to them, like they had whispered it to each other before their last breaths.

You had found the poems first, a soft look on your face as you read it to the group — your tender voice breaking as you neared the end of the last poem, their final declaration of love even in death. Astarion had to look away as you finished it, his half-dead heart thumping in his chest as he heard you speak the proclamation. He wouldn't allow his mind to even start to imagine you saying such things to him.

Lae’zel’s huffs broke the moment, demanding they get a move on and head back to camp already. The group blinked back to reality, before turning on their heels to go.

You walked ahead of him as the group began to backtrack to camp, tucking the book of poems into your pack with a gentle touch.

Astarion’s thoughts had been consumed by you for sometime now. For longer then he had realized. Perhaps from the moment he met you. He sometimes wondered what about you had kept him so captivated. Why he picked you to feed on, or to be the unsuspecting member of his plan.

He could have picked Wyll — he was noble and honorable, prone to jump into the thick of things to save an innocent or a friend. Loyal to a fault. And he was quite handsome too. Like the princes he dreamed to marry when he was a boy.

But no, it was you he was drawn to. His little moon.

He had realized that he ached for something he had never known, and had never before believed truly existed — that it was only invented to be seen in plays or read in prose and poetry. But now he longed for it with you.

When he was cursed to this life of a bloodsucking monster, of a vampire, he quickly realized that he would always feel hungry. That he could have his fill of blood and still be starving. He could drain this merry party dry and still feel that prick in his throat and pang in his belly.

What he didn’t realize was that the curse Cazador bestowed to him was so much more. Not just an endless bloodlust, not just waking nightmares and endless torment. But that he could long and ache for companionship, attachment, love. But that he would never take it for himself. That he would always be both starving and empty.

Because he knew he didn’t deserve it. Not after the things he’d done, in this life and his old one. Not after what he had become. He didn’t deserve you — someone so good that a literal goddess had blessed you with their power. Someone whose voice turned gentle as their fingers trailed lines of poetry. Someone who would offer themselves up to a monster, just to make them feel whole again.

You deserved someone bright and unbroken. Who could give and receive touch as freely as breathing air. Who knew that true companionship wasn't some fantasy invented for the arts, that love was more then sex and flattery. Who could one day also lay beside you, willing to accept what fate becomes them and turn to bone. Not a half-dead creature like him.

He knew he would cease his foolish plan. He couldn’t use you as bait nor a shield, not anymore. You deserved better than that. What that meant for him… he wasn’t sure.

Perhaps he should confess to his plan too. As a final way to make you understand what a manipulative bastard he truly was. To push you away. It would hurt less than to confess what his heart wished for, but his mind knew he could never have.

The path the group was walking along was overgrown with thorns and vines. A specific darkness plagued the route, and it was barely dulled from the magical glow of the party’s several spells and enchantments. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, his red eyes darting around them — searching.

It happened in an instant — the shadows silent and invisible until it was too late. The creatures appeared with a sudden flash, long curling claws slashing into your side — catching you unawares. Your shout of pain alerted the rest of the party, everyone drawing their weapons quickly.

Astarion went to the enchanted daggers at his side, hurling them through the air with easy precision as they found their target. They boomeranged back to him, sliding into his waiting palms. He had gotten rid of one, but there were way more than usual. Wherever they had stumbled into, it was not good.

“Shit!” Karlach swore loudly as more shadows appeared after the ones they downed. Continuing to converge around you, drawn to your huffs of pain and blood. Your blood, the scent that was usually so sweet in his nose but now had dropped an anchor in his stomach. There was too much of it, much too fast.

“Watch out!” Wyll shouted in warning to the vampire, before sending several of his powerful red blasts soaring out of his hands.

With a glance to his side, the rogue twirled around Lae’zel’s strong, cleaving swing with ease before releasing his daggers once again at the creatures advancing on you. But he threw them a moment too late — their clawed strikes sinking deep into you before the magical daggers ripped through them and back into his hands.

The sound of your knees crashing into paved stones made Astarion's teeth chatter. His heart lurched into his throat, your name choking out of him as he screamed. He had never moved so fast — it almost seemed like he had blinked across the battlefield like Gale so often did.

“RAHHHHH!” The booming roar of Karlach echoed in his ears as she raged from seeing you fall. The rest of the party converging on the remaining shadow creatures attempting to surround your unconscious body, moving in sync with each other with a deadly precision.

Knowing that those creatures were being taken care off, Astarion fell to his knees next to you — his pale hands grabbing onto your shoulders. “Sweetheart, wake up.”

You didn’t stir, your head and limbs shaking loosely as he moved you. He dragged your head onto his lap, before unbuckling the holster on his belt. He tipped the the precious red liquid from the healing potion between your lips. He said your name, running his thumb across your face.

You didn’t stir.

“Darling?”

His red eyes studied you, your face looking lack luster and eyes remaining closed. Your hands laying limply at your side, unmoving. He couldn’t hear the familiar thrum of your heart.

No, no, no, no.

“Astarion?!” Gale shouted, his voice exhausted and strained as he split his concentration just enough to check on you two.

The world tilted as the wizard instead shouted for you. But you couldn’t respond... because you were —

“You can’t die, dammit!”

Suddenly, you were all bathed in a golden light for a moment as Shadowheart brought down a thunderous strike of radiant energy, defeating the remaining shadow creatures as they shrieked in pain. Then the sound of thudding metal and footsteps as the party surged forward to you, panting for breath.

Wyll’s eyes went wide with worry as he saw you unmoving, his hand covering his mouth,“ Are they—?”

Astarion looked up at his party with bleary eyes, his hands trembling as he held your face on his lap. “They won’t wake up. I tried, I gave them a potion and they—“

“Oh gods.” The Blade choked out, his face immediately crumpling.

Gale shook his head, immediately dumping the contents of his side satchel onto the dirt. Scrambling through them, “No, no, we can do more! I’ll have a scroll or, or — Shadowheart!!”

The cleric had remained in the back, her face half covered in shadow. Her nostrils flared as she looked down at you. But she made no move forward.

Astarion’s red eyes pierced through her, before narrowing, “Bring them back.”

She didn’t move, her face blank. “My goddess will not allow it.”

“Princess! What are you talking about?” Karlach tried to grab her hand, but Shadowheart pulled away. “It’s Giggles!

Her black braid swayed back and forth as she shook her head, taking one step back. “She is Shar’s enemy. She is my enemy.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your goddess.” The vampire spat, his lips curling, “Bring. Them. Back.”

“I—" A moment of hesitation as her voice shook and her eyebrows furrowed.

Gale let out a shaky breath, his fingers pushing back his long hair. His brown eyes were shining with fear. “I have no scroll, I—“

“We are running out of time!” Lae’zel finally spoke out, glaring at Shadowheart. “Do something now, istik.”

Astarion voice was deadly, his fangs baring as he shout out. “If you don’t do this. If you let them die— I will hunt you down and become your worst nightmare. I will fucking haunt you! BRING. THEM. BACK.”

“Shadowheart, please.” Karlach whispered, finally getting ahold of the half-elf’s hand.

Conflict flickered across her face, before she stepped forward. She crouched next to you, bowing her head as her hands began to glow with golden light. Her small hands rested on your unmoving chest, before the light disappeared into you.

A loud gasp escaped you as come back to life. Your hands finding purchase in the dirt as your eyes snapped open wide with fear and uncertainty.

Astarion let out a loud breath, tipping his head back with a silent thank you to anything that was listening.

The sigh of relief echoed throughout the entire party. Minus the dark haired cleric, who stood up quietly. Her throat bobbed as a hard to read look crossed her face and she backed away.

“I— what, what happened?” You asked groggily, your eyebrows meeting in the middle from confusion.

“You scared us Giggles.” Karlach sniffed, “Thought we’d lost you for a second there…”

“I… I was gone?” You craned your neck, looking up at Astarion, alarm etching every feature of your face.

He opened his mouth, but no words could come out. Fear and panic still held a tight grasp around his throat.

“For but a moment.” Gale stepped forward, his voice practiced but reassuring. “Shadowheart brought you back.”

Your bottom lip wobbled as you fought instant tears, before you croaked out, “Thank you.”

A quiet grunt is all you got in reply from her.

You sat up gingerly, Astarion grabbing your elbow to steady you. Your blood and the strange ichor from the shadowy creatures was clingy to your clothes. You were shivering — a combination of the cold and from the knowledge that just mere moments ago you had been dead. The vampire had undone the clasp of his cloak and was wrapping it around you before you could say no.

“I think it’s best we head to camp. We will take the paths we know.” Gale spoke up first, gathering the contents of his satchel that he had spilled across the ground.

Karlach took your pack from you, slinging it across her back with ease. “Fangs, help me get them up.”

He rushed to his feet, gently pulling you up with him. You swayed for a moment, but your fingers tightly found his forearm to keep you steady. “Thank you,” You breathed.

Him and Karlach slowed their pace to match your weak steps as you walked between their sides, both of their arms wrapped around your waist. Gale was leading the way with Wyll at his side, his staff a shining beacon as the two kept their heads on a constant swivel. Lae’zel brought up the rear, her sword remained out as her eyes narrowed on the huddled form of Shadowheart. The cleric’s arms were hugging herself as she kept her eyes on her boots.

Astarion couldn’t help but count your heartbeats, the rhythm now steady and thumping like normal. He needed to recommit the sound to memory. If only to drown out the reoccurring one of hearing it stop.

• • •

You were much quieter than usual, the lute you would strum by the campfire abandoned. Your eyes were blank as you stared into the flames, licking and dancing across the logs. You were miles away, your half-full dinner plate forgotten at your feet and now licked clean by the camp dog and owlbear.

Shadowheart and Karlach had almost immediately retired to the latter’s tent — still in there now, speaking in hushed whispers that even Astarion’s elven ears could not pick up. Lae’zel was sitting on her perpetual watch, her sword balanced across her knee as she polished it. Wyll sat closest to the fire, using the warm light to inspect a map of Moonrise Towers you had found today — making marks and notes, strategizing the best way to rescue the lost Tieflings and his father. Gale was dutifully at your side, sharing the log bench and reading quietly — his mage hand holding the book up for him and turning the pages.

Astarion watched from a far, sitting at his own tent. He was not interested in feigning conversation. But he wasn’t interested in his own activities either — the book he had open on his lap had been on the same page since he first sat down. Instead, he was watching you carefully.

The scene from earlier in the day was repeating in his mind, he couldn’t shut it out. Not just the sound of your heart stopping, or the scent of your life blood draining out of you. But how you had clutched to him as you journeyed back to camp. That the trembling in your lip would stop when he looked over to give you reassurance.

You had slipped into a deep shock when you arrived in the familiar comforts of camp, almost instantly dissociating once you breached your group’s makeshift home. Gale had swooped in then, his mother-hen behavior taking over as he ordered you to change while he cooked.

So, the vampire had slipped away. Disappointed to no longer be needed. Wishing he too could dissociate or play healer or anything, something to just stop his racing thoughts and pained heart.

His pointed ears perked as you spoke.

“I’m going to go for a walk along the river.” You said suddenly, breaking the quiet that had been settled around the camp for hours. You braced your hands on your knees as you stood up from the bench.

“Do you need company?” Gale asked from your side, already starting to stand up to join you.

“I’m okay, just going to the dock… to collect my thoughts.” You didn’t notice the hurt in the wizard’s eyes as you rejected him. No, your eyes were searching around the camp, looking for something. Someone.

They settled on Astarion.

He raised a single white eyebrow, your eyes never straying from his. A silent invitation, maybe? To join you on the dock.

You gave the smallest indication, a tilt of your head that anyone else would have missed. Then you were off, heading across the camp before turning toward the tree line closest to the river.

He waited for a moment, as to not make it obvious. Perhaps to spare Gale’s feelings, that you had silently asked him to go, and not the wizard.

“Off to get lucky?” Wyll asked as the vampire marched by.

“Wh—what?” He stuttered, steps faltering as he turned to look at his companion still sat on the dirt by the fire.

“Gonna try your luck with a hunt?” The warlock rephrased, looking up from his stacks of maps and parchment.

“Oh. Yes. That’s it, ‘hunting’.” He waved his hands and did a funny little bow, before turning on his heel. When had he become such a terrible liar?

With a practiced lazy grin, he bid the rest of his companions a quick farewell before following the trail into the tree line as you did.

The docks weren’t far from camp. A few minutes journey down a well-walked dirt path through the sparse woods led him to the quiet river.

You were already sat on the wooden dock, your boots half hazardously tossed behind you and your feet hanging in the water. Your head was tipped back, arms stretched behind you as you seemingly basked in the silence. Astarion made purposeful loud steps, causing the wood planks to creak. To announce himself, to avoid startling you.

You didn’t move, didn’t flinch. Instead you merely opened your mouth to speak, “Hello, Astarion.”

Oh, how he loved it when you said his name like that. Like you had been waiting for only him.

“Darling.” He drawled from behind, standing carefully next to you.

You turned your face so you were now looking up at him instead of the dark sky, “Thank you for knowing I wanted you here. I didn’t want to announce it.“

A smirk quirked his lips, “Good, I can still read you then.”

You looked at him quizzically, “Have you been having difficulty doing that lately?”

“You…, He cleared his throat, “You have been keeping me on my toes, yes.”

A cheeky smile spread across your face, your eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh, you must hate that.”

Yes, he did. He rolled his red eyes at you, “I certainly haven’t been bored since I met you.”

You both let out chuckles, before you patted the spot next to you on the dock. “Sit with me?”

He joined you, removing his own boots and rolling up his pants to sink his legs in the water. But then he paused, his pale feet hovering above the blue water. “What creatures lurk in this river, do we know?”

“Oh, don’t be a scaredy-cat.”

Astarion huffed before placing his feet in. He hissed from the cold temperature, but after a moment it felt refreshing on his tired and sore feet. A relaxed sigh escaped him, and his shoulders lowered slightly.

You both sat in a comfortable silence for a moment. Then he kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, but was careful to not get caught. “How are you feeling?”

You blinked at the question. “I— I’m not sure how to answer that. Okay, I think. Are you?”

“You scared me today.” He admitted without thinking, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, your fingers kneading the flesh of your thighs.

“I don’t need you to apologize. I need you to… Just never do that again, ok? I know you did nothing wrong and you were just standing there but don’t ever put yourself in a situation like that again.”

Your brows met in the middle, your mouth turning into a frown. “The path we are on is a dangerous one, Astarion… I can’t—“

“No. Nothing can happen to you. I won’t allow it.” His voice cracked, so he swallowed some of the emotion down. “So stay at the back, behind me, I don’t know. But I will not witness what I did today again, you understand me?”

“Okay,” You submitted with a nod, “It’s all still very hazy for me…”

“It was terrifying. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that.” He chewed his inner lip, surprised at the confession that had just hurled out him.

A haggard breath left you, before you abruptly stood up. You started to fumble with the buckle of your pants, staring out into the river as you took it off and tossed it behind you.

He watched you with confusion, “What in the hells are you doing?”

“I want to, I don’t know, feel alive. I need to reset. I can’t get the feeling I had when I came back out of my chest.” Astarion knew that feeling, had felt that feeling. And it still resurfaced sometimes.

You peeled off your shirt next, then your trousers, the clothes falling in a small pile at your feet — until you were suddenly stark naked standing on the edge of the dock.

Astarion did his best to hide his awe at you, standing confidently above him — completely nude and bathed in the dim evening light. You stood there for a moment, your chest rising and falling as you took quick breaths. “Well?”

With a sudden leap you jumped into the water, a joyful yelp escaping you as you splashed into it.

“Have you gone mad?!” He asked after you, holding his hands up in defense of the cold water that splashed from your movements.

“Yes! Join me in my madness.” You said with a loud laugh, the musical sound ringing in his ears. You threw your head back, your bare chest exposed as you flopped backwards and began to float in the water.

He looked at you like you were demented. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

“Astarion, come in. There are no ghouls or creatures. It’s nice.”

He set his jaw, his words coming through his gritted teeth. “I can’t — I haven’t swam in two hundred years.”

“Oh.” You realized, before standing in the water to show him, “It’s like the baths we took near the grove. You can touch the bottom, I’ll help you.”

His red eyes couldn’t resist roaming your wet figure, backlit in the evening light in front of him. Then he snapped his eyes away, turning his nose up, “You’re intolerable.”

“You love it. Now get that stubborn, pale ass in here.”

The vampire huffed as he stood up, “Hmmph, it’s a good thing you’re pretty, you know. Or everyone would reconsider why they condone your behavior.”

You flashed him a smile, before turning around and dunking your head into the water — giving him privacy to undress.

The vampire slid off his clothes, carefully piling them next to yours before staring down into the dark blue water.

Fun. That’s what you were searching for. Just a moment, a thrill. It wasn’t a distraction like what he had tried to do in the Last Light Inn. It was.. an escape. He could do that for you. It was probably one of the few things he could afford you.

“Oh hells,” He hissed through his teeth before jumping in after you.

Even as a cold-blooded creature, the water was a shock to his whole system. He felt goosebumps cover all of his flesh, his muscles drawing taught from shock. But as he surfaced and saw the delight flickering in your eyes, he instantly warmed. “Are you happy now, you wretched little thing?”

You didn’t reply, instead grinning and nodding childishly.

“Good.” He smiled back, “Now, what?” His feet could indeed reach the bottom, he stood in it, the water gently moving over his shoulders and collarbones in the lazy current. It was nice, but foreign — a sensation he was still trying to grow used to after all this time.

You bit your lip and shrugged, beginning to swim in a slow circle around him. Before sending a large splash of water over him.

“My hair!” He cried out, before his eyes narrowed and settled on you. “You minx, you’ll pay for that.”

Another laugh escaped you as you tried to outmaneuver him, your wet arm slipping through his hand as he tried to grab you. So he instead launched a counter wave back at you, splashing water across the back of your head.

“Muahaha!” The vampire let out, his grin spreading across all of his features.

Your smile was contagious, addicting. He could feel strain on his face from his own smile as he laughed with you, the longest a genuine one had been plastered on his face for centuries. The two you played in the shallow river, splashing and shrieking like children. It was liberating, he had never felt more free. Not even the day when he had realized he hadn’t perished from the sun’s attention. This was somehow better.

His wet, pale hand caught your wrist as you went to slide past him in your game of chase. You swallowed slowly, your plump mouth hanging open slightly as he tugged your closer to him — drawing you nearer until you were face to face.

Your eyes were hooded, staring at his mouth. But not possessively, not with the hunger and objectification he was used to. But with longing? How long had you been looking at him like this?

He tilted his head forward, meeting you halfway as yours lips pressed into his carefully. A soft groan escaped you as you felt him kiss you back.

His pale fingers grabbed your naked waist, pulling you into him so your bodies were flush — your chest cold and hard from the water pressed into his own. His fingertips dug into your fleshy side as you deepened the kiss, opening your mouth to him. Your hands trailed up chest, your fingers tips playing with the sensitive skin on the nape of his neck and moving into his hair. Your touch gentle yet firm — it was maddening.

It had been sometime since you’d touched each other like this, but there was something different tonight. Arousal was flooding through him, his lower belly tightening and warming as he hardened against your thigh. Gods, did he want you right now. And not to perform, not his almost ritualistic routine for Cazador’s prey. He just wanted you, needed you for only himself.

As he felt you push into him more, a low moan escaped him.

But then he felt a familiar shiver travel up his spine, disgust — not at you, or him. But at the tainted act. Haunting memories of back alleys and side rooms flooded through him.

Gods dammit.

He had wanted this — to kiss you, to be with you. To indulge for just a moment in you, even though he knew he could never truly have you. A temporary bliss to sate his thoughts of you, his need for you.

Loathing burned through him for ruining the moment. So, instead he tensed his jaw, furrowing his eyebrows as he continued. He could persist, he insisted to himself as his hold on your waist tightened.

You two had barely kissed twice more before you pulled away, completely breathless. You caught your breath, before looking up into his eyes, “I don’t want to go any further tonight, I’m sorry.”

He froze, before his fingers immediately left your waist. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no! You’re wonderful. Just… a lot happened today, and I’m still overwhelmed I think. I hope you understand.”

He understood more than he could bare to say. “Of course.”

He’d never thought to just ask to stop. He never had the choice, the free will to. If he stopped he would have no prey for his master. Then he would be punished. And the punishment that Cazador would doll out for him was a much worse abuse then enduring the practiced torture he did with his victims. So he had just done it…

But you had asked. You had listened to yourself, and your wants and had stopped. You were vulnerable and honest in a moment of passion. You trusted him to listen.

You trusted him.

“And don’t apologize. Not for that.”

You pecked him on the cheek — your lips incredibly soft, it was only a puff of air across his skin. “We should probably head back — the others might be worried.”

He blinked back to reality, nodding along as different thoughts and memories flooded him. “The others, right.”

You both got dressed quietly, your clothes sticking to your damp skin and hair. You began to walk back towards the forest line, the dirt path leading back to camp looming in front of you.

Astarion glanced over at you, but blinked as he had realized he caught you staring at him. Your cheeks flushed brightly, before you ducked your head.

“Gale told me about what you did for me today.” You said quietly as you walked, your eyes fixed on the trail and hands twirling nervously at your side.

His steps slowed behind you, “Oh.”

You turned to face him, your eyes soft yet wide, “Shadowheart may have cast the spell. But you… you’re the reason why I’m here. Thank you for fighting for me.”

His heart thudded, as he felt an overwhelming urge to go to you. To hold you like he had in the river. His fingers twitched at his side as he instead swallowed and spoke, “Of course. You would have done the same.”

The sounds of the camp began to trickle down the trail, soft chatter by the fire could be heard from here. Surely meaning that any thing said between you now could also be overheard. You seemed to realize this as well as you turned back to him one last time.

“Astarion,” You called back. Every time you said his name, it was like a piece of him that he had long forgotten about came back to life. “I’m very glad I met you.”

He thought of all the moments that led to this one. Dying in that dirty, dark alley. Clawing his way out of his own grave. Two hundred years of misery, and begging, and torture. To the nautiloid and the god damn worm slithering in his head. And then to you — under him with his knife to your throat on the cliffside, flushed and dancing at the Tiefling party, sleeping soundly next to him in the inn. And to now, staring at him with your soft eyes and smile, your sweet laughs and touch still echoing in his ears and across his skin.

Maybe the gods had answered his calls after all — if he had been fated to meet you along.

“So am I,” He smiled back.

Continue to part III here!

#bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #bg3 fanfic #astarion/reader #astarion/tav

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simplysedusa · 3 months ago

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How do you think the girls and boys will make/maintain friendships? The relationships they have outside of each other intrigues me. Like the girls are instantly popular due to their heroic status but might have a hard time making friendships that don’t feel surface level. You mentioned before that Townsville’s acceptance for them is very conditional and I can see them developing a sort of trust issues as they catch on to this. Probably very few like Robin make their way inside their core group and know them outside of their superhero identities. The boys have it rough and they are aware that their reputation didn’t come out of nowhere and isn’t exactly unwarranted. All they’ve known is to rely on each other for all their lives and letting someone else in was never an option. Like the girls they trust each other unconditionally but still they wonder, one more than the other, about a connection that isn’t familial. A few of the school delinquents might feel bold enough to start talking to them but the boys have this thing about feeling used by people, so these losers trying to hire them to be their sort sort of super powered hitmen kind of rubs them the wrong way. One kid remarks ‘wow that was awesome how you handled [name of random bully] and they’re like ‘yeah it was.’

Asks like these always make me giddy, but I find it very difficult for me to formulate my thoughts because I have a lot to say and I wanna seem coherent, so bare with me, lol. 😁

Elementary school is easy for the Powerpuff Girls, everyone is friends with everyone so long as you're nice (for the most part). And when you're the city's beloved superheroes, making friends is as easy as breathing. Just look at how many girls they invited to their sleepover in "Slumbering With The Enemy".

Meanwhile, for the Rowdyruff Boys, making friends for them isn't even on their radar yet. There's a 50/50 chance they can't even define the word, "friend". Remember how I said Butch had the most codependent tendencies? All these three know are each other, and honestly, to them, they're all they need. I could see the boys "making allies" with those they believe to be on their level but given the current roster of Townsville villains, no one makes the cut. The Gangreen Gang (and my version of the Powerpunks) comes close, but they're frenemies at best. For my WIPs, the Powerpunks and Rowdyruffs (prior to being adopted by Ms. Keane), temporarily bond over some criminal activity until the Ruffs say some misogynistic shit and get their teeth kicked in.

Middle school age is where things get interesting. While I also feel that the Puffs have a few codependent tendencies amongst themselves, all three girls have strived to be individuals in their own right (as in "The Bare Facts", "Super Zeroes", "Three Girls and a Monster", etc.), so I'd imagine this to be the starting point of where their specific, individual friendship circles start to form. While attending school with superheroes would probably lose its appeal with middle schoolers, they'd still find the girls to be cool. Buttercup and Mitch would still be friends alongside the Floyjoydson Twins and whoever the athletes are. Blossom could be friends with Elmer, Clara, and others who are more studious. Bubbles would be the clique hopper who's still clinging on to her elementary school days, but her main clique could consist of the artists or the "weird kids". MTH has her main friend group be the kids from "Mojo Jonesin'" and I think that's perfect. Their only shared friend, and closest friend, would be Robin (and for my WIPs, Elmer and Mitch as well). The Puffs are still pretty young around this age, but they're also becoming teenagers (and that means, middle school drama *shudders*). This would be where the girls start to develop some edge to them. They don't seem as enthusiastic or peppy as they once were. They're not smiling as often as they used to. Perhaps they're a bit wittier. While the girls wouldn't mind saving the city and are still happy to do so, a few citizens of Townsville would see the differences between the 12-13 year old Puffs and the 5 year old Puffs and start complaining. For one specific WIP, the girls are homeschooled during this time so they're starving for social interaction. They've still managed to maintain their friendship with Robin, Elmer, and Mitch since Robin's their next door neighbor, Mitch sometimes stays the night when needed, and Elmer gets examined by the Professor due to his new glue abilities.

12-13 year old Ruffs would definitely get bored with each other and would want to start seeking social interaction elsewhere. Butch would be the least willing of the three to do so and start to stick to his brothers (mostly Brick) like glue. However, since the three get placed in a foster care group home for a few years, their opportunities to make friends are very, very limited and temporary. And again, no one really knows or understands what these three have gone through, so what would be the point? They'd definitely push people away with empty threats.

Now they're high schoolers. They've matured, but they're still teenagers. By this point, the rose tinted glasses are off and ineffective. The girls see how certain people react when Buttercup's caught sneaking out to go party at night. Or how annoyed certain people get with Bubbles' activism (protesting for animal rights, BLM, LGBT+, against genocides being committed across the globe (😉), etc). Or how others will see a clip of Blossom politely correcting an interviewer on robotic engineering and suddenly think of her as a pompous, arrogant know-it-all who needs to be humbled. How Townsville would see them at this point would be synonymous to how people view child stars who are maturing in the public eye. The girls have realized that Townsville's opinion of them could change at a blink of an eye, and that they had before (In "Major Competition" the girls are replaced by Major Man and are seen as less than. In "Down 'n' Dirty", an angry mob chases after a 5 year old for not bathing. In "The Rowdyruff Boys", the girls immediately assume that the city doesn't want them to defend them anymore after losing to the Ruffs. In the movie, the city (and the world) deems the girls to be bug eyed monsters. In "Save Mojo", animal rights activists interfere and temporarily stop the girls from fighting Mojo, deeming their actions to be cruel despite the evil schemes Mojo has attempted in the past). So, for the average peer, the girls would be friendly but cautious.

Another concern I see the Puffs running into would be clout chasers. Even if they're not as beloved as they once were as kindergarteners, these girls are still well known, they're practically famous. And anyone looking to better their social standing would see the girls as a perfect opportunity. Both Blossom and Buttercup are usually pretty good with sussing out acquaintances with ulterior motives (or at least Blossom, I could see Buttercup being manipulated somewhat easily), while Bubbles on the other hand gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, and often time gets manipulated for it.

I could see Buttercup having the most friends, I think she'd be the most popular of the three in a high school setting, but she wouldn't necessarily have many that she'd be able to be vulnerable with. It'd be pretty easy to make friends if you're partaking in sports, especially team sports in school. I'd imagine a few athletes get jealous and accuse Buttercup of cheating (despite the fact that in my WIPs, Professor Utonium invents a Chemical X tracker that shows when Chemical X is being used so people know when the Puffs or Ruffs are using their powers against other normies).

Blossom, to me, feels like she'd struggle the most individually in the friend-making department; I think she'd have the hardest time differentiating between when to be a superhero and when to just be a girl. She'd be popular in the sense that everyone knows her, and she's that smart girl you wanna pair up with for school projects, but not many would know her on a personal level. She'd be a bit of an enigma, and most would already believe her to be a narc (and simultaneously a hypocrite considering all of the crimes the Puffs had committed in the past).

Bubbles, on the other hand, would be the one throwing herself at others platonically and just casually trauma dumping about how she has the weight of the town's (and subsequently, the world's) safety on her shoulders, and how she feels that her childhood was essentially stolen from her. Somehow though, she'd have the most friends who know her outside of the superhero persona, but still less friends than Buttercup overall (or at least, real friends anyway).

In my HS WIP, the girls finally go back to public school during their sophomore year, so they might be a bit more naive, but you get the picture.

High school aged Rowdyruffs wouldn't be as hostile as their younger counterparts, but they're every bit as guarded. Any idiot who'd try to condemn them will be made into an example. Even so, there would be moments where they'd feel alienated, and perhaps this time around, they'd be much more honest about it.

Individually, Boomer might have it the easiest out of the three, since he looks like he'd be the least intimidating one and would be the most popular one as a star athlete of several sports teams. Even so, his reputation precedes him.

Butch, again being the most codependent brother, would be somewhat of a loner without his brothers around. He plays sports like Buttercup and Boomer, but his are individual based such as swimming, wrestling, and gymnastics. While both of these are great social outlets, I doubt many would go out of their way to talk to him. Butch (or Brick, maybe all three of them, idk) gives me the vibes of someone who'd sit beside you if you're all alone in a school library, the cafeteria, or a pep assembly (basically some place you can't easily escape) and just sit there in silence and see how you react. They'd see it as a challenge, filtering out who the pussies in school are and who passes the vibe check.

Brick's the most infamous of his brothers since he's the leader, so on one hand, he's the most feared. On the other hand, those who may not be the biggest fans of the Puffs might seek him out and attempt to befriend him through what they'd assume to be their mutual dislike/hatred of the girls (these people would piss him off, his past with the Puffs would be the last thing he'd want to talk about). Since Brick wouldn't be as involved in extracurriculars like Boomer or Butch, he wouldn't have as much of an opportunity. Brick's circle would be small, like two to three people tops. Most of his friends would probably be the kids he met in detention. Much like how he treated Bubbles in "Bubble Boy", I'd see Brick talking about the crimes he'd committed as some sort of vibe check.

In my HS WIP, most would steer clear until they've officially made up and befriended the girls. It'd be much harder for the boys to find friendships that aren't just surface-level (and that aren't the Puffs). At this point in their lives, I'd like to think they'd officially befriended the Gangreen Gang though, so that's something.

Adult Puffs and Ruffs would just cling on to whatever close friends they made in the past since befriending other adults is a challenge in itself.

#and once again the ask is answered thanks to me #ppg #the powerpuff girls #the rowdyruff boys #blossom utonium #bubbles utonium #buttercup utonium #brick rrb #butch rrb #boomer rrb #brick keane #boomer keane #butch keane

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aerynwrites · 2 years ago

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Hey! I have a Tech x Reader request.

Only if you're comfortable with it of course since I know many don't like the topic, but I would like to see:

AZI revealing that the reader is pregnant when they go to SID after Techs fall.

A fix it in which they are all reunited is of course welcome but is not necessary. Choose how you like it :)

I was sitting here hoping for a request like this!!! Bc fuck that ending - that ending doesn’t exists. They are all happy and together and amazing and Cid didn’t do what she did and the empire didn’t come after them and they are all planning to live on Pabu for the rest of their lives okay? Okay cool.

Thanks for the request my friend! Had such a good time writing this! ❤️

Unexpected Endings

Tech x Fem!Reader

A/N: please suspend your disbelief with this one lmao. Didn’t go into the gritty details of how reader saved tech she just did. Happy ending Bc it’s what tech and we deserve lol. Hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: talks of pregnancy || reader being pregnant || talks of babies/children and raising them || surprise pregnancy || discussions of death/death scare || but mostly fluff , fluff and more fluff!

**apologies for any grammatical errors, wrote this and posted from my phone, also haven’t written in a while…**

The memories come in flashes.

Flashes of emotions and fragmented pictures as you blink in and out of consciousness.

The last solid thing you remember is lunging from the rail car before Tech could fire his blaster. After that…most of it’s a blur.

You remember vaguely shooting your own grapple line into the still attached portion of the rail car, a searing pain in your shoulder as you grasp the tail end of Techs own grapple line, his weight being almost too much for you to hold alone.

You remember the wind whipping around you as the rail car finally speeds away, Wrecker and Omega shouting your names as they try to haul you both to safety.

Then came the screaming of metal, a deafening smash and then, blackness.

A darkness that ebbs and flows but never fully goes away or stays put. You think you hear shouting at one point, your name at another, Techs voice from far away.

Tech.

That stupid idiot!

That’s the first thing you manage to coherently think once consciousness finally decides to grace you with its presence.

When have we ever followed orders?

What would have been his last words replay over and over in your head as you slowly work your eyes open. Trying to gain sense of your bearings.

Your name comes from somewhere to your right, and you want to turn to look at who it is, but a shooting pain in your neck stops you.

“Don’t move.” They tell you, a gentle hand coming to lie on your shoulder. “You and Tech got the worst of it.”

Tech?

“Tech?” You murmur, lips sticking together, mouth parched. “What…? Is he - did I get to him? Is he…?”

The words come out in slurred whispers, your mind moving too fast and your cotton mouth too dry to produce anything louder.

Finally, a familiar tattooed face appears in your line of sight, brows pulled together tightly despite the way the corners of his lips tug upwards.

“He’s alive. Thanks to you.”

You sag with relief, a small breath puffing past your lips as your eyes slips closed.

He’s alive. He’s alive and he’s here, and he’s okay.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you whisper again, opening your eyes just as Hunter lets out a small chuckle, grimacing slightly at the action as he clutches his middle.

“Yeah, well…get in line.”

You want to respond, but Hunter stops you, instead moving to help you sit up.

The movement is awkward, and reveals to you just how extensive your injuries are. There’s a cast on your leg, bandages wrapped tightly around your midsection, and another cast wrapped securely around your wrist.

Hunter is as gentle as he can be when he helps you sit up, stuffing pillows behind you to help support the action, but every little movement causes a wave of pain to wash through you.

Only when you’re situated and Hunter hands you a small cup of water does the pain start to ebb away, leaving behind a dull ache all over.

You look over to the Sergeant, watching as he seems to mull over something.

“Where’s Tech?” You ask, desperate to see him after everything that happened.

Hunter sighs, “He’s in the other room, probably arguing with AZ over his bed rest orders.”

You huff out a small laugh at that, rolling your eyes. “That sounds like him.” You say, fingers fiddling with the cup in your hands. “But he’s…okay, right? I know you said he’s alive, but-“

Hunter cuts you off, reaching over to take the cup from you before placing a reassuring hand over your own.

“He’s fine. Pretty banged up, but nothing a few weeks of healing won’t fix. Same goes for you.”

You nod, finally relaxing back into the pillows. “And everyone else?”

Hunter smiles. “We’re all fine. All of us. Even Omega, who’s been hard pressed to leave your side by the way. The only reason she’s not here now is because Cid convinced her to go out for some Mantell Mix.”

The mention of Omega brings a smile to your face. “Well, I’m just glad to hear that-“

“You’re awake!”

the chipper voice of AZ interrupts you as the familiar silver droid practically flies into the room.

“Hi, AZ,” you greet the droid, unable to stop your smile from growing at the little guy.

“Recognition processing seems to be functioning normally,” the droid says, hovering closer to you as he does other scans. “No signs of significant Brian trauma or bleeds. No progression of spinal injury. Vitals are holding stable. No signs of other internal injuries…”

You sit patiently as the medical droid rattles on for several more minutes, listing off your injuries and what he’s been doing since you’ve been asleep. Hunter has moved to the corner, talking softly into his comm link to who you assume is the rest of the batch. Probably to let them know you’re awake.

“Do you understand?”

AZ’s questions pulls you from your observation and you look back to the droid.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that again AZ, I wasn’t paying attention.”

The droid nods and points to a data pad he placed in your lap.

“Your care instructions are listed on there. My main recommendation is bed rest and very low activity levels until your spinal injury and concussion have subsided. Drink lots of fluids along with the medications I’ve recommended and you and your baby should be perfectly fine!”

Your eyes snap up to where AZ still hovers, chest frozen as the breath inside you seems to be sucked from your lungs. Frantic eyes dart to where Hunter still stands, his own eyes wide at the droids words.

You finally manage to stutter out just a few words when you suck in uneven breathes.

“Me and my…baby? Baby?”

Kriff…I think I’m going to pass out again.

AZ’s head cocks to the side, an otherwise adorable gesture if he hadn’t just given you life altering news.

“You’re heart rate is elevated and your breathing is erratic. Are you experiencing distress?”

As much as you love AZ, you want nothing more than for him to leave right now. His presence adding to the anxiety spiking within you.

Hunter must sense this, because he’s immediately stepping forward and ushering the droid from the room despite his protests.

Soon he’s by your side again, eyes searching your own.

“You didn’t know?” He asks.

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you force yourself to take steady, even breaths despite the ache it creates in your ribs.

“No, no I - I didn’t think it was - I never…” you trail off, the reality of the situation sinking in.

The burning of tears at the backs of your eyes comes on quicker than you can anticipate and soon you’re trying in vain to blink them away.

Hunter reacts instantly, standing up and moving towards the door. “I’ll get Tech.”

You don’t have time to respond before he’s gone, his presence soon replaced by the man you thought you were going to lose.

He looks just about as good as you do. He’s dressed in his civilian clothing, but you can see the bandages peeking out from beneath the collar of his shirt, and he’s leaning heavily on a makeshift crutch.

And his goggles are missing.

But none of this even matters when his eyes meet yours. He’s on the edge of your bed faster than an injured man should be, your arms wrapped as tightly as you dare around his middle.

All the words you had for him. All your scathing remarks and scoldings and angry names disappear the moment he wraps his arms around you - and you can do nothing but cry as he holds you.

Finally, after several tear filled moments, you manage to speak through your cries.

“Why would you do that?” You ask, pulling away enough so you’re able to see him. “What were you thinking?”

You emphasize the last word with a hard squeeze to his shoulder, lips tugging down into a frown.

Of course, he has a response ready, probably having already said half a dozen times to his squad mates.

“It was the only logical thing to do in order for the rest of the squad to survive.”

You huff, “obviously not, since what I did worked and we’re all alive.”

Techs brows furrow, his own lips thinning before he speaks. “What you did was illogical and reckless. It had less than a five percent chance of being successful-“

You pull away from him then, eyes wide with disbelief. “But it was successful!” You reiterate, “We’re alive because of it. All of us. You were just ready to throw it all away!”

You’re angry now, angry and sad and heartbroken that you almost watch the man you love die, because of fucking statistics. So, before Tech can talk any sense into you, you continue, needing him to know how much his decision hurt.

“You would have died, Tech. You would have died and left me behind. Left us behind…” your hand falls to your stomach instinctively as you trail off.

“It was the only thing that guaranteed your best chance at survival,” He says again, softer this time as he reaches out to take your hand in his own.

You shake your head, “I don’t care, you can’t…you can’t do that again. Ever. Not anymore.”

He looks confused for a moment, before moving to give you what you’re sure is a rebuttal. Some excuse about how the squad as a whole matters more than one member. But you cut him off before he can, squeezing his hand tightly in your own.

“I’m pregnant, Tech.” You tell him, the words shocking him just as they had you.

He’s silent for a long time, his eyes darting from yours to various places around the room before finally landing on you again.

You don’t know what you expect. Part of you, the romantic part of you, hopes for some grand gesture of love. A mind melting kiss, him to jump up and down in joy, a huge smile to spread across his lips as he spins you around.

Yet, the response he gives you is better than all of that combined. Because it’s Tech, and you should have known he would be logical above all else.

“I think I can refrain from any life sacrifices from now on.”

His words, words only Tech would utter at a time like this, bring a watery smile to your lips as you lean in to embrace him once more.

“You aren’t upset?” You ask, voice small from where your face is tucked into his neck.

He holds you tighter, hand running soothingly up and down your back.

“Quite the contrary,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I never expected for this to be a possibility, so…I’m still processing.”

You can’t help but laugh as you pull away from him, wiping away any stray tears. “That’s normal…I think. I’m still processing too.”

You shake your head, looking down at where your fingers are now laced with his.

“I thought you said clones couldn’t have children.” You say, looking up at him in question.

He shrugs, and you can practically see the gears in his head turning.

“Technically speaking we should not be able to. The Kaminoans engineered all clones to be infertile, for obvious reasons, but…” he trails off for a moment before continuing. “Clone Force 99, we were an experimental batch of clones. Our inhibitor chips were rendered less functional due to our mutations. Perhaps this is similar.”

He reaches quickly for the data pad on your lap, pulling it up closer so he can see as he taps away at the screen.

You smile. “What are you doing?”

“Looking at your medical information regarding your pregnancy. ” He says plainly, pausing his tapping as he seems to find what you’re looking for. “The baby seems to be healthy,” he says, reiterating what AZ had told you. “However, it’s too early to tell much else without more advanced equipment.” He looks up at you, a rare teasing smile on his lips. “AZ estimates that you are approximately two weeks along in gestation.”

You do the math quickly, cheeks reddening at what it adds up to.

“Pabu?” You ask, unable to stop the smile when Tech nods.

Of course that’s when it happened. It was the first time in forever that any of you in the batch were able to have a sense of normalcy. The first time you weren’t running around on missions or saving each other.

It was…peaceful.

Tech starts typing again and you tug him towards you, urging him to sit next to you on the bed as he does whatever it is he’s doing.

“What are you looking at now?” You ask, sinking down in the pillows so you’re able to rest your head against his shoulder.

“I’m searching for articles on how to take care of an infant, as well as searching for nearby space ports where supplies for children are available.”

His tone is so matter-of-fact, so sure, as if he didn’t even think twice about this sudden change in his life. Like he’s accepted it readily and without trouble.

But you have enough worry for the both of you. Something you make known right away.

“Do…do you think we can do it? Raise a kid with what we do?” You worry the blanket between your fingers. “You almost died today Tech. We all came so close, and I…I can’t do this without you.”

The data pad is set aside as soon as you start talking and his hands come up to cup your cheeks before he brings his lips to yours.

It’s not heated or rushed or heavy. No, this kiss is slow and tender and so full of love you have a feeling you know what Tech wants to say before he even speaks.

He pulls away from you slowly, resting his head against your own as he drops his hands to take yours.

“Missions have always been my top priority,” he begins, and you worry about what he will say until he continues. “Just consider this my new mission, and the only one that matters.” He tells you, bringing one hand to rest gently on your stomach.

“I will speak to Hunter about returning to Pabu, as soon as I’m done.” He says, leaning back into his position beside you as he picks up the data pad once more.

You settle in next to him, holding his free hand in yours as you watch him work.

“Done with what, exactly?”

“Research, of course.” He says, bringing your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles. “I refuse to be unprepared.”

The next few moments follow in relative silence, both of you just relishing in each other's presence. Only Tech’s periodic baby facts and information interrupt the comfortable silence.

When Tech is discussing the various types of cribs and their different sleep functions, you finally interrupt him.

“I love you, Tech.” You say, stopping the man in his tracks.

He smiles, squeezing your hand in his own as he looks down at you.

“And I, you, darling.”

The words are simple. To the point. Just like Tech.

And when he’s back to telling you about cribs and the best baby formula, you have a sense of all being right with the world.

#tbb x reader #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #stars wars x reader #star wars tbb #the bad batch tech #the bad batch

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aeoncss · 2 years ago

Text

crave | professor!john price x f!reader

a/n: hey! first time posting my writing abt price on this account so i’m a teensy bit nervous, but i hope y’all enjoy this small drabble regardless.

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY), ‘forbidden’ relationship, female reader, fingering, not proof read lol

based off of this song

it was so easy falling into the space of john’s arms without ever thinking about the consequences.

the smell of his aftershave and the lingering scent of his woodsy cologne blocked all your senses of thinking clearly – inhabiting any coherent thought that you had about him, and about the relationship the two of you shared.

you two fell into a rhythm so easily – starting with longing stares from across his classroom, to idle touches whenever you stay a few minutes after his lecture to ask a simple, easily answered question.

you didn’t care. all you wanted was john’s attention, and without you ever knowing, he wanted yours as well. craved it every second when he would see your innocent smile from your seat.

but the two of you know better. know that it’s a horrible craving that either of you can’t crush, can’t bring yourself to break away from because the addiction is too much.

too pleasing.

so the thoughts of morality and future endeavors escape your head when everything about him fills your senses, leaving you wreck-less. it’s pathetic, almost; the way your brain can’t seem to gather it’s circulation when john whispers such filthy murmurs into your ear, two fingers curling slowly inside your slick walls. he pumps them to the tune of your heartbeat - his breath fogging against the curve of your neck as you flutter around him, completely surrendering yourself to him.

“price..” his last name slips so easily from between your lips, and the older male sitting below you can only reply in a seductive hum.

“yes, love?” john’s voice grows rough, more timber when the taste of lust coats his tongue.

it truly drives you mad.

“don’t—“ your words cut short when his middle finger gently presses against a spot he’s abused several times before, leaving your head spinning, lips parting in a desperate gasp. “don’t s-stop, please.”

your professor smirks against the your sweat-sheen skin, his warm tongue barely slipping past his swollen lips to deliver an open mouthed kiss to your bare collarbone. your body shudders on top of him, john’s eyes adorning the sight of you slowly coming undone, and he hasn’t even started with you yet.

this addiction - he’ll never bring himself to step away from it. not when your breathy moans are so pretty. not when the sound of you whimpering out his name is forever engraved into him.

he’s a lost cause, all thanks to you.

it’s a restless cycle that leaves you feeling breathless without him next to you - without feeling his embrace, no matter if it’s only raged by pheromones and the promise of his seed. you’ll keep finding yourself back to the place you call home, where the name ‘john price’ is stamped right above it.

consequences? damn them to hell.

#captain price #captain john price #john price #mw2 #mw2 2022 #mw2 price #captain price smut #cod mw19 #call of duty mw19 #mw19 #mw2 smut #call of duty mw2 #mw2 captain price

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indeedcaptain · 7 months ago

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All of your WIPs sound amazing, but I feel like I HAVE to ask about this one! 👀👀

unrequited mcspirk hamlet rewrite DEAD DOVE

ohohohoooooo i'm so glad you asked, thank you!!

this idea came entirely from learning that mccoy's middle name is sometimes horatio, and these two facts: 1, i was a theatre kid and an english major so i have Feelings about hamlet, and 2, i read this fanfic (not trek. literally hamlet) in 2014 and never recovered.

in my head it's a AOS-AU gothic space opera. Maybe it counts as a royalty AU, technically.

George Kirk, senior, dies in a horrible accident (warp core?). Jim (absolute train wreck genius, emphasis on train wreck) comes home from the Academy to help deal with the fallout, and starts believing that Winona's new husband (Frank? George's brother? Make that ambiguous AOS canon about who owned the convertible ALL true) killed him because of George's ghost. Bones (in love, just trying to keep jim alive and nearby and that's enough) comes home with him and acts as the ignored voice of reason.

Jim is seeing George's ghost everywhere, Bones is trying to keep him upright and not on fire, Winona is trying to keep her son from destroying her new marriage.

Enter Spock as Ophelia. I personally really like retellings that recontextualize her and try to give her as much agency as possible, so I would do that here too. TBD on what that means. Sarek as Polonius, and then TBD for Laertes.

Jim, Spock, and Bones are the careening-out-of-control three-body-problem center of the story. The biggest change from canon would be making Ophelia and Horatio have their own relationship; maybe both working together to keep Jim from going too far off the deep end, or something else I haven't considered yet.

Chekov and Sulu are Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

the DEAD DOVE in the outline title comes from the fact that I want to follow canon in that Spock and Jim both die and Bones is left to pick up the pieces of his life and this kingdom.

I think the reason I'm dragging my feet on putting real work into this is because I haven't decided or thought about what I would want this all to MEAN. I don't read or write MCD, generally, and if I did, I would want it to be to make a coherent point rather than just make me sad LOL.

Also because I would have to reread/rewatch Hamlet and I just haven't done that, ha ha.

Thanks for the ask!! Maybe next time there's a McSpirk BB I'll bring this back around. XOXOXOX <3

#my writing #mcspirk #affixjoy #asks #ask game #edited to add…#not to be

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dangerpronebuddie · 7 months ago

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Hi, baby, hope you're having a good day 🩷

But about Buck, Actually, no, the newlyweds call is not the last one, it is see me Norman, gas station, newlyweds, and then Thomas and Mitchell, with bathena and madney intertwined in the middle. I will definitely write something in more detail depending on the types of shots we get from the bachelor party, but madney has the whole bar sequence, the karaoke of it all, then the scene in Chim's apartment with the food and what Buck says that will quite literally describe buddie too as of 706 once we see the karaoke, and bathena is about Athena accepting the changes in the family that come with Michael dating? Like there's the dinner with Michael and the boyfriend and the kids and bathena (and then bathena gets engaged the next episode lol) that I kinda wanna argue you can parallel to outside looking in but I will have to rewatch both scenes again to make sure lol and well, the episode is very much a madney begins in a sense, we see the friendship and they talk about Maddie not being ready yet and we have a lot of parallels to draw if they are going that direction, even more with the whole repeat names and the Thomas/Tommy thing yk? I have to watch 706 for the thoughts to fully form tho ksoskspskspskapka I am losing my mind a little about it ngl

Hi baby, hope you are too🩷

Okay, that's what I thought. So doing the trapped dads thing could definitely have a confession, and they could possibly combine the car crash and Thomas and Mitchell, at least in terms of how Buck sees love. And like you said, if Eddie's the one in worse condition, he's not going to tell Buck and let him live with that forever. Buck would tell Eddie, just so he'd know he died being loved (I didn't tear up writing that. At all).

Given the fact Buck, Actually had such a focus on Madney, it kinda makes sense for 7x06 to have a Buddie focus. We haven't even seen Chim at his own bachelor party yet! With Madney in 2x08, we get to see how they communicate (Chim spam texts lol), how well they know each other (her wine order), the karaoke, the buff-fridays thing, and Buck calling them out on being oblivious. The fact we're getting the same colors and the thing with their arms around each other is INSANITY. Even more so considering Maddie and Eddie have so many similarities. Still haven't figured out the point of Eddie in pink, we'll just have to see there. (I think I'm having thoughts on that but now I need to look at 7x01 again. Maybe the pink is tied to Eddie specifically right now. I need to find some coherent thoughts on that lol).

I just thought of something. Athena struggling with accepting changes in the family sounds oddly familiar... Chris broke a salad bowl over Eddie dating again. Would he have similar emotions to finding out Buck and Tommy are together? Or, a step further, if he somehow figures out how Buck and Eddie feel about each other? It's kind of a stretch but ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

With the Outside Looking In parallel, it's possible. I'd have to watch and see.

7x06 could be a Buddie begins in a sense. They're practically attached at the hip in all the promos, the karaoke thing, and God knows what else we'll see. I'm all for an *almost* happening, just not a cheating storyline, no thanks. The almost would push them to think whether or not they're ready, and they aren't- at least not Eddie considering Marisol and the whole guilt thing. OH! An almost would pile onto that!

And it's perfect for someone to point out their feelings. Anyone watching them could spot it, Maddie already has her suspicions, so does Tommy. Ideally, at least for me, I want Maddie to call Buck on it and Chim to Uno reverse and throw out "if you love him, tell him." It's not likely to happen in 7x06 specifically, but it could be very soon. Tommy's likely to mention something too, considering he barely knows them and still spotted it, but I would love for it to be Madney.

The Thomas/ Tommy thing is really bugging me. Are we going to see a Charlie or a Mitchell in the near future? I still haven't figured out Tommy's motives, it really makes no sense.

There's so many parallels we're getting, and probably A LOT more in 7x06. I already know it's gonna be one of those episodes that keepe me up all night lol.

#anna 🩷#911 #buddie #911 spoilers #911 speculation

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partywithoutsmiling · 7 months ago

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what headcanons would you apply to the trolls world building or characters?

Pft well I already talked about my headcanons for the various trolls anatomy here, so it's no use to repeat that XD

I also talked about Brozone and their immediate family here (Part 1 and Part 2), and those posts also touched briefly on my ideas for the Pop Trolls, but I will try to summarize those here as well.

Do expect sort of messy answer, but I will try my best to make it somewhat coherent! I will try sort the headcanons by General and by each Tribe individually (Trying to include character headcanons in the tribe ones)

Buckle up lol, it's going to be a long one!

(EDIT: Sorry I took so long to answer, the headcanons just kept coming and I spend hours on editing and trying to make it coherent enough to read lol)

(EDIT2: Also most of my headcanons are focused on World/Lore building, sorry XD;)

General:

Early Trolls history is largely innacurate; before the Theft of the Strings by Pop, neither Tribe seen a particular reason to keep 'written' records of what happened, until it was deemed too important not to. All their recorded history Starts with the String's creation, but for all the Tribes it's more of a cautionary tale for future generations, with different level of faithfulness to the real events. Funk focused on the most factual history; Rock talked about betrayal and the terrifying powers of the strings combined; Country simply cautioned against other Tribes- if one ached for power, so did the others; Classical stressed the importance of keeping the String safe from everyone; while Techno didn't go to any details, and just talked about the importance of their string for their music. Pop Tribe actually has the most accurate retelling of what happened, but that Scrapbook is kept for Royal eyes only- the one that Peppy showed the gang is actually crafted Propaganda, and I will explain more about why Peppy showed that one later in the Pop Tribe Headcanons

The Strings were not created at the same time; going off our own musical history, the creation went in this order: Classical > Country > Rock > Pop > Funk > Techno; before this point, the tribes were mostly differentiated by their lifestyle and the habitat they adapted to, with plenty of intermingling in between. All of them were capable of making music, even though back then it mostly included only humming and primitive musical instruments, usually drums and flutes

The trolls themselves are more like Fae in their origin; beings of flesh and bone but at the same time sort of also full of magical, musical whimsy, their outward appearance reflects the habitat they attuned themselves to. Which is why, even though their looks are so wildly different, they have no issue intermarrying among tribes; starvation is also hardly a big issue, as eating a meal can sustain them for weeks, and all non-aquatic tribes are able to 'breathe' underwater for brief period of time, but only if sort of subconsciously preparing for it. If thrown into water suddenly without preparation, they can and will drown (unless they are able to swim); the opposite is also true for aquatic trolls

The Trolls used to be more widespread in the world; as shown in the updated map of the Troll World (I attached the map to this post), the actual world is rather huge; going off the fact that the Troll Tree was situated in the middle of the Bergen Town, and the Bergens build their town around it on purpose, it hints at the Troll territory spanning more than just their little corner in the north of the map. This would explain the awareness large beings like the Vacationers and Mount Rageons being aware of Trolls Existence- specifically Pop (expand on that later)

The Troll Tree used to be Capitol for all Troll Kind; and ancient effort to create Trollstopia, as exotic in looks and different habitats as is Zootopia in the same named movie, it used to be considered the hub of cultural and technological advances, a perfect Utopia where all Tribes could co-exist in peace and equal. It was also where all the Strings were housed, in the Lyre of Harmony, put on display for all Trolls to see- untill the Pop King took possession over it, causing the Rift and forcing the other Tribes to eventually flee, and the Tree changed to fully attune toward the Pop Tribe only

It was the Trolls Tribe presence that influenced the world around them to change to suit their needs; while at first it was the world that influenced their anatomy so they could adapt the best to their surrounding, now, with the Strings' existence, it was the Trolls who had more palpable influence. Which is why, when setting up shop in their corner of the world, the Troll Kingdoms seems surprisingly diverse considering the position. This ability is not lost with the Strings' destruction, as all the trolls are now infused with their power, as being born under them generation after generation

The Strings are tangible manifestation of music and will; a purified and distilled foci of power, alone they are awe-inspiring, together they are terrifying. No troll alone can hope to use the Strings for long, not if their goal is to focus them only towards one genre of music, getting rid of harmony and instead sharpening their focus towards one note. Their mere presence had wild reaching influence on the Trolls of their representing tribe. When used in disharmonious manner- like when Ancient Pop and Barb used them- the Strings of the Opposing tribes compensate by leeching the User's life force and talent, undected under the euphoric rush of unlimited power, until the user eventually drops dead- something which happened to the original Pop Royal and was avoided by Barb only by pure luck

There is even larger world beyond the updated map; and it's from where the Vacationers originated from, arriving from the east; Vacay Island is actually just a claimed colony which they turned in a holiday resort. Their species name is most likely something else, but being so chill, they don't mind being called a Vacationer.

Vacationers don't venture into the world of the shown map; compared to other large species of habitants, they are actually very fragile- smaller then most of them as well, they keep to themselves, and only feel comfortable around similarly sized species or similarly fragile ones

Vacationers are actually another type of Fae like creatures similar to Trolls; but they are what Trolls would be if they never discovered their Musical Strings- influenced by their surroundings over generations. Their similarities, however, is enough that they can freely intermingle and have children without issues. Similar to Trolls, they are eggborn species

Vacationers are used to having large families; Brandy herself probably comes from seven siblings. It is a sign of happy life and prosperity, and thus considered a good luck to be able to support that many children

Mount Rageons cannot thrive in warm/hot temperatures; going off their plastic-y looks, their skin is actually thick and hardy, insuling them away from the chilling temperature of their homeland but putting them at disadvantage in more tropical settings.

Mount Rageons were the 'dominant' large species of the current Troll world map, and the ones the Trolls interacted with the most during their ancient days; still keeping to more temperate and mountainous regions, they encountered trolls on fairly regular basis- this changed when their culture became too technologically advanced and secluded themselves to their current position

Mount Rageous is not a single city, but an actual Mountain Range, representing the whole country; they have no differentiating settlements- their whole country is build to from bottom up in layers, joined in connecting carways, with the less fortunate living at the bottom and the elite on top.

Mount Rageous is the most technologically advanced of all of the large species, but their society fell largely into consumerism cut throat fame culture; with the glamour and bright polished life reserved only for the most fortunate, which is why Velvet desired that life, to actually have the chance to see the stars; thanks to the negligence of the elite, the lower levels of Mount Rageous are largely carpeted by mist and smog, depriving them of the little natural light the Rageons can 'enjoy'

Rageons are not actually eternal teenagers; but years of chasing the ideal and attractive beauty standard had the whole species 'suffer' from the perpetual infant-like looks (I cannot remember the scientific name for it now XD), making it seem like at one point, Mount Rageons just stop aging, untill they just drop dead from old age at one point.

Velvet and Veneer are legally of age; yes, still technically in their teens, being freshly 18, but that was the earliest they could take control of their own life. Contrary to what it seems, Rageons don't allow minors to become Pop Stars without their guardian's approval, and V&V's parents were against their choice of career

There was a record of trolls being used for their talent in Mount Rageous before; and it is now considered banned and serious crime- not for the talent stealing itself, but because Trolls were seen as good luck and harming one was seen as the most disgusting thing one could do

Neither Velvet and Veneer were actually talentless at the beginning of their career; yes, the movie shows them singing terribly off-key in one of their scenes, but that actually is actually a consequence of them using Floyd's talent as their own. Both siblings had a vested interest in music since very early on in their life, and were able to rise to a wider audience's knowledge on their own merit- enough that they employed Crimp as their manager through purely legal and non-nefarious means. It was only after their rise to fame stuttered to a stop and stagnated just below widely known sensation that Velvet got desperate and greedy- and learning about the way to steal a Troll's talent, decided to kidnap Floyd who has been in Mount Rageous as a guest lecturer, talking about his Brozone days. Using Floyd's talent came with the hefty price of dulling theirs, which is why they realized they need a steady supply of trolls to keep this charade going as they no longer could continue on their own

Crimp was bullied into compliance, but it came with hefty sum of money to convince her; it was easy for her to turn blind eye towards what was happening when money was involved- it was only after Velvet decided to cut her off ("Now I don't trust you") that Crimp decided to cut her losses and try to get out squeaky clean- a ploy that didn't work when futher investigation into Floyd's kidnapping revealed her involvement.

The Bergens at first were a nomadic tribe but forced into being one; coming to the map from the west, they first settled in the area around where the current Golf Course is. Even back then the land was largely inhosbitable and most of their efforst were at trying to pretend they are doing well even as they weren't

Bergens probably originated from colder north woods, dominated by large conifers and plenty of mountain range; a catastrophic event- most likely a doing of another yet unknown species- forced them to traverse from their original land into their current

Bergen's 'offputting' looks are a direct result of said catastrophic event; something that alienated them for sure in the eyes of the Ancient Mount Rageons, who considered their hunched misshaped forms an abomination, and forced them to flee even further north and away from Mount Rageous

Bergens have never met a troll before, untill that fateful day when they devoured one; their goal wasn't actually to find a way to feel happy- they were part of the refugee tribe, led by their 'Gristle' (Gristle Jr.'s father) and they have been starving. Eating the troll was a sign of desperation that turned into something more.

The Bergen's idea of royalty was an influence both from the yet unknown species and the Pop Trolls they encountered; back then, Gristle's father has been just 'Gristle' first, as it was just a title that named the chief of the tribe- but seeing the reverence the Pop Trolls had for their Royalty, his father decided to adopt the King as well, with Gristle thus becoming and inheritable name of the Bergen Kings

When a Bergen achieved an important position, their birth name became obsolete and disrespectful to call them as such; which is why Chef as only ever adressed as 'Chef', and as mentioned above, any Bergen king is only ever addressed as 'King', 'Gristle' or 'King Gristle'; while Chef called Bridget a scullery maid, it's not considered an important position of note- at the same time, however, she also butchered her birth name, offering her the highest insult

Chef was after the throne for decades; born with a cunning streak mile wide and more clever than most, Chef still experienced the strife and hardship of her tribe even as a small child, being already alive when they were nomadic and on the run from any perceived threat. Growing up rather resentful of the Gristle leading their people, as in her eyes his refusal into standing his ground against their adversaries and rather fleeing was a sign of a weak link. She never aspired to try and get to the throne the 'easy' way- to present herself as willing mate and mother to the future Gristle, detesting the idea- but when the Trolls existence became known, along with their effects, it presented her with the perfect oppoturnity to rise to the top and become the whispering viper standing behind King Gristle's throne, enjoying luxuries and power no Bergen ever enjoyed before. It was a slow and insidious overtaking, as the King got older and his successor was born with physical disability that even the Bergens looked down upon (his low stature), while Chef was quite content to slowly build up her image as the one and only source of happiness and prosperity- something that crashed and burned hard with the Trolls' escape

Unable to make peace with her plans getting ruined, searching for the Trolls became Chef's sole purpose; not only for the desperation to return to her previous prestigious position, but also to enact revenge on the little rats that dared to play against her rules. She was also aware that she was not getting any younger- though in her madness spent in the wilderness, the reason started escaping her, and she was just hyper-focused on getting her position back- but not what to do to keep it

Bergens of Bergen Town were actually dying out; thanks to Chef's powerhungry efforts, the whole tribe was desperate to live in Bergen Town, around the Troll Tree- but the Town was not big enough to contain them whole. It most likely came to blows in the past, and perhaps ended with many deaths, with the perpetrators banished into the wilderness- a punishment that remained to be the most used one, as Gristle refused to build a prison as it would deprive them of already rather limited resources they can scrape together.

Even in Bergen Town, the chance to enjoy Trollstice was actually based on lottery; only select few were able to enjoy the treat if their name was drawn, and after that they couldn't participate in the Trollstice Lottery for at least 3 consecutive rounds. The only one able to enjoy Trolls every Trollstice and outside it was the King- a rule that Chef whispered to him, knowing the unfairness would silently grate at the populace. Chef herself never participated in the public Lottery, wanting to be seen as being one of the common folk; any time she was seen plucking up a Troll outside Trollstice, it was believed she did so on King Gristle's orders

The Lottery was rigged; entirelly in Chef's hand, she kept tabs on who was connected to 'troublemakers'. Bridget's parents were most likely one of the early advocates for Trolls' freedom and were banished for it, and thus Bridget's name was never in the running

Most banished Bergens were guilty of either murder or feasting on Trolls in secret (this is why the Cage has been build eventually, to keep those greedy Bergens out)- some, however, were banished for 'disrupting the peace'; Bridged was not the first one to find her moral compass and treat Trolls as living, sentient beings; they were some Bergens before her who tried to do the same and tried to advocate against Trollstice- something that Chef put a direct stop to. Now that there is peace between Trolls and Bergens, those advocates for Trolls' rights returned to Bergen town or started building settlements around Bergen Town.

Not all Bergens were happy with the peace, especially those previously banished for eating a troll outside Trollstice; however King Gristle Jr. goes through the grim effort to make sure those are kept in check, and probably made it clear to up the severity of punishment to execution if needed be- something they don't advertise to their Trolls friends

With their dependance on trolls stopped, Bergens are starting to experience a technological boom; especially after TWT, when the other Music Tribes started to offer their own advancements

Techno:

Used to be called Mertrolls;

While gaining their String last, they were actually the first to sepparate from the general 'ancestor troll'; it was this separation that it took a while for them to develop a String of their own; while they became the most changed of the Troll Tribes anatomically

Their first homeland weren't the Seas, but rivers and lakes; it was only after the String Theft that they decide to completely seclude themselves away for protection

It was only after they moved to the Sea that they gained their bioluminescence; and also when they started adding more actual electronic sounds into their music

Techno Trolls eggs are the only ones who do stay in the Trolls' hair to finish their grow cycle; they sepparate as soon as they bud, and are kept in hatcheries, overseen by the Egg Keepers. The hatcheries themselves are kept near hydrothermal vents that supply the necessary warmth, and also the neccessary nutrients for the eggs to finish their growth and eventually hatch

Each hatchery has section reserved for the specifical bonded couple; this reserved spot remains for the whole of their life and is only passed to another when the original pair either renounce it or passes away

Much like other Tribes' trollings take comfort in snuggling into their parents' air, Techno Trollings like to press their face to their Parents' pulsing hearts;

Techno Trolls are the only Tribe to have never a large species in the past; it was only after TWT that they became more curious and were introduced to Bergens, while they found the Vacationers all on their own

To them, their String became a sacred artifact, a single source of their music; and their history murals warned against anyone ever laying their hands on it, all the other Tribes described as alien like creatures from the land

It was the role of the Techno Ruler to keep their String safe and if needed, sacrifice their life for it- and the lives of other Techno Trolls if it came down to it; something Trollex refused to do, chosing to rather give up the String rather than going over corpses to keep it

This most likely caused some discord among the Tribe; where it was the more conservative Trolls butting heads against the more liberal ones, arguing if Trollex's choice was a correct one

While Techno never feared danger from larger people, they have enough sea predators trying to devour them; something that caused Trollex's parents to perish early in his childhood and the Tribe was ruled by a regent untill recently- the opening party in TWT was actually his Coronation party, and for this reason Barb chosed to attact, knowing it would be the most opportune time to do so

Classical:

Used to be known as Crested Trolls;

Even in ancient times, they considered themselves to be the the most cultured out of all Tribes; being the first to really start building their settlements instead of living wild, they first focused on producing food for themselves instead of gathering. This lead to them having firmly assigned roles and routine in their lives, leaving free time which they used to polish their musical skills and gave grounds for the creation of their String

Being a largely nectar and fruit eating species, they consider killing and eating another living thing barbaric; something that put them at odds even in the past, when all Tribes lived in Harmony. They were the most reluctant to keep their string along with others on display in the Lyre- a reluctance that became justified when Pop tried to steal all the Strings

Well aware of the power the String possesses, it became their goal to keep it safe from everyone else; not because it was sacred, but because they know that it could lead to destruction. Encasing it in the Conductor's baton seemed to be the most incospicuous choice of placing

They pride themselves on being the original String makers and always harboured a little sense of superiority towards other tribes because of this;

They have no King to rule them; considering the ancient's King folly to give up their string for the Lyre of Harmony, they went away with the whole monarchy concept and are futhermore ruled by the Conductor- which is a job title rather than a leadership title. Conductor's main role is to be the Warden of the String, and it is a prestigious position that a Troll trains hard for

Conductors never bond and never have children; they refuse to make it inherritable position

Trollzart is the oldest of all the current Tribe rulers; being in his late forties, and holding the position of a Conductor for over ten years now

Funk:

Used to be called Humpback Trolls; nearly all of them were quadrupeds, untill more bipedal Funk Trolls started being born

Well before creation of the first String, their prime focus was knowledge and thirst for it; living seemingly inhospitable deserts and steppes, they became largely invested in seeing how the world ticks, and what to do to make their tribe live and thrive. It was only after witnessin the powers of the Rock and Pop Strings that they started to entertain the possibility of researching them. Knowing, however, that asking the Other tribes for one would be stupid, they went on to create their own

Realising the destructive power of the String early on, they didn't see danger in it but hidden potential; their own String in particular became not only representation of their music but also a tool, one that allowed them to power their early machine and syntetize new metals and alloys. They shared this with the other Tribes when the effort to instill harmony started, and it was thanks to their help that the troll tribes started leaping in technological advances. They were also the ones to build the Lyre of Harmony, as a way to house all the Strings safely, unaware of the consequences that could bring that

After the String Theft happened, they were the first to clear the premises, with Techno following close second; they saw no point in contesting the Pop Troll territory that even after the death of their mad King was rather large, and instead looked to the skies. Their first ships were at first gas and steam powered behemoths, before they started to explore more fantastical options of anti-gravity and magnets

They keep their String under lock and key, grimly aware of the events that took place, and vowing to never let history repeat itself;

Up until Cooper's return, they considered Pop Trolls to be extinct, as they havent seen a hair of them for over 30 years; and even then, they didnt hold them in the highest regard. When Cooper told them about the Pop Trolls turmolous history and the way they accepted him and cared for him as one of their own, it was enough leeway that Quincy and Essence were wiling to give Poppy an audience

Contrary to other tribes, Funk trolls are the most open towards evolution of genres, as shown in Prince Darnell's Hip Hop core, and celebrate this evolution joyfully, seeing it as natural progression of things;

Gold and Silver tinsel are only reseved for the royal family; Silver for the Consort and Gold for the main ruler and the Throne Heir

Quincy and Essence sort of unofficially adopts Branch, though he is very unaware of it; encouraging Darnell to be his friend- which is no hardship to the Prince- Branch is often hanging around in Vibe City, when not with Poppy that is. They can just see he is starving for familial love- especially after Cooper tells them more about him- and can sense that Branch is more gender-fluid than it shows

Country:

Used to be Dasher Trolls;

Country Trolls were the second to separate from the 'ancestor troll', and their chosen territory was the most inhospitable out of all; with no cover as far as eye can see, their only option to protect themselves from birds of prey and other various predatory fauna is to run away. Combining that with scarcity of edible vegetation, they too needed to become more hunters than gatherers.

With gaining of their 4 legs, most Country trolls lost their ability to use their hair at all; it is still thick and able to stay upright, but right now all they use it for is for keeping their eggs safe as they develop

First Country trolls were nomadic; it was only after the creation of their String that they started becoming settlers, leaving their hunter lifestyle behind to instead get into farm-raising animals

Country Trolls are the only ones who are unable to 'breathe' underwater, even for a while;

With their nomadic lifestyle, they have been considered a myth at first by the ancient troll tribes; and when met for real, not accepted as wholeheartedly, thought to have too many limbs

In recent times, after Pop Trolls, Country Trolls are the only Tribe whose numbers have diminished greatly; forced to free from well established settlements and setting up new ones in Lonesome Flats took their toll, especially as new dangerous fauna and flora cut down their numbers from inexperience. It wall all very trial and error, and too painful even for them- so it's not something they talk about

Country trolls are used to seeing wandering trolls from other major tribes (like Rock) or smaller ones (usually bounty hunters); they don't mind offering their settlement as point of respite, but often they have to deal with unruly visitors- thus every town has a jail

They have no royalty, but their Mayor position can be considered semi-hereditary; Delta Dawn took over the position of Mayor from her Uncle, however in every 5 years there is a chance to vote in someone else- Delta has already been re-elected once

Country trolls were the only one not completely horrified to learn Pop Trolls were regularly eaten; after all, that's the daily risk in Lonesome Flats- something is always trying to eat them

Delta Dawn and John Dory met in the past; specifically after JD followed the escape tunnels' direction from the Troll Tree in hopes of finding any sign of Pop Trolls- instead he overshot and wandered into Lonesome Flats, Grey and Depressed

Delta's job before being a Mayor was Jail Guard; it was her task to guard JD who accidentally mixed up with pair of Rock Trolls causing havoc- she failed this task as JD managed to escape, causing Delta to habour a minor grudge

Rock:

Tunneler Trolls;

Rock and Pop Trolls share the same closest ancestor; before the creation of their Strings, one could hardly distinguish each Tribe troll apart, as their colours were muted an earthen, their only differences influenced by their lifestyle

Are definitelly more nocturnal than other trolls and dislike going out in full sunlight; their eyes are sensitive, so most of the day is spent either napping like lazy cats or expanding work underground

Longstanding rivalry with Pop Trolls, even before Pop Tried to Steal their String; definitelly had some territory disputes while their musical styles clashed with each other the most

Rivalry started after Pop Created their String; before that the Tribe traded frequently and intermingled

Young Rock Trolls posses Wanderlust; it is considered 'rite of passage' to go on a 'World Tour' after reaching 18yo, thought one can choose to go later. This Tour can happen within the Rock Troll territory or outside of it- and can be done in group or solo

They are ruled by King and Queens, but don't use the title of Prince/Princess; instead they are simply called Heir/Throne Heir

With the exemption of Pop, they are the only Tribe whose Royal line comes directly from the Originator of their Rock String; Whenever a heir with is born with red hair, it's seen as good luck.

The future King/Queen is determined by using their Rock String; if Winged Skull and Lightning Bolts appear on their chest after, they are considered blessed by their ancestor to rule the Rock Tribe (King Thrash never had it- it is a carefully guarded secret, as the original heir, Thorn, abandoned his Tribe in favour of his mate and his sons-> this is connection to my headcanon about Brozone's parents XD;);

Barb's tattoo faded after her failed World Tour; it is still there but not as visible as before- she can't decide if it is because the Strings were destroyed or because she tried to steal them

Rock Royals don't wear crowns; instead all wear Skull belt, which only Rock royal family can wear

After Funk Trolls, Rock Troll civilization is the most developed and advanced; they are also the only one minting their own currency, in the shape of guitar picks (Steel > Brass > Copper)

This currency is adopted by the Minor tribes living in the Unclaimed territories, and is the only currency the various Bounty Hunters accept contracts for;

Pop:

Canopy Trolls;

Rarely ever ventured down from the trees, generally kept to the highest branches of the trees; it was from there where their incredible hair control and shaping developed, though those skills grew stronger and sharper only after they gained their String

They used to have more earthen, mossy colours, until their Pop String; they also used to be taller and more wiry, compared to their Rock Troll relatives

Pop Tribe had the largest population boom after they gained their String; they are the only Tribe where any Troll can have an egg, male or female or other. Also, many minor Tribes joined willingly or were coerced to join

Even within the Tribe, there are distinguished clans; the glitter trolls hailed from now extinct Disco tribe

The Troll Tree Utopia has been a plan from dominance from the start; while alliances were agreed upon and made, the at the time Pop King knew the only way to get his hands on all the Strings was to convince all the Tribes to live together

"Poppy" is a heritage name; it is usually given to the younger daughter, who is not meant to inherit the throne, in honour of the Queen Poppy the First who ruled over the tribe after he mad brother the Pop Emperor died after overusing the Strings

Peppy is not of Royal Blood; his Wife was. His full tittle is King Consort but no-one is going to call him such. This is also why he never knew the real history of what happened with the Strings, and only knew the Propaganda version, that laid blame at all their feet

Pop Trolls were always loud and fearless; they interacted freelly with the ancient Mount Rageons and lived in their settlements all Borrower style- habit they never grew out of, becoming incredible crafters, able to make something out of nothing, but focused on their scrapbooking and artistic efforts

They used this skill especially while caged in the Troll Tree; while full on escape was not possible, they were able to send small scouting parties into Bergens' homes and basements, bringing back scraps and materials that supplied their much starved economy while giving them the tools to continue crafting their escape tunnels

The escape tunnels were started being build as soon as the Bergens encircled their Tree from all sides; the Pop Royals were not blind towards their people's plight, but the project was both delicate and time consuming

'Sad Book Club' was a covername for rebelious Pop Troll faction; especially while at the Troll Tree before their capture by the Bergens, there were plenty of trolls whose ancestor did not heed the Queen Poppy the First's orders to not keep records of what really happened with the Strings and passed it down. The Goal was to not only keep the truth alive but to also have contingency plans in case another Royal goes mad

They did have appreciation for sad books that wasn't a cover-up however;

Majority of them are within the Putt Putt Clan; Clay has been accepted into the co-leadership position partially because Viva chose him, but mostly because it would mean Clay was the closes to watch her for any signs of madness, as back then they were convinced they were the only Survivors from the escape

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls fandom #ask #lore dump #anon ask #Sorry I went a bit overboard lol

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