#i call this one the Midnight Host au

[gouda-nough]

P4 bad end au where Yu becomes the Midnight Channel's announcer or smth. Either instead of the true ending in the same vibe as Joker joining Yaldabaoth or something more like what happened to the p3 protag but instead of dying he gets taken over by a false self (then he can appear in the spin offs n Yosuke gets the wildcard)

[darl-ings]

midnight radio | jeon wonwoo

pairing: wonwoo x reader

genre: fluff, college au

warnings: none

word count: 2390

summary: in which you are a new host for your school’s midnight radio broadcast and wonwoo makes a call to the show

a/n: this has been in my drafts since 2021…

“Good evening, everyone. Welcome to KU’s Midnight Radio. The song you just heard was Sabrina Carpenter’s Bed Chem. I’m Y/N, your host for this semester. As you may know, Midnight Radio is usually hosted by Soonyoung Kwon, or DJ Hoshi, our favorite eccentric dance major, but he’s studying abroad in Japan right now, so I’m here to host the show for him until he comes back in January. 

“You know, I’m actually not that nervous right now, even though I’m alone. I don’t know if any of you know me, but I hosted the show with DJ Hoshi and DJ Hong for a bit during last fall semester. I had a great time since I got to chat with my fellow peers during the late hours of the night. By the way, I hope you’re all having a good night so far. The first week has been really hectic for me, so I’m sure it was for a lot of you too. Make sure to get some rest. After the show, of course.”

You winked at the camera filming you, watching as the comments of the show’s Twitch stream began flooding in. You leaned forward, squinting your eyes to read them.

“Welcome, welcome. I see a few song requests, so I’ll make sure to play some of those later. Does anyone want to have a chat? The number is in the pinned comment if you guys want to talk. I get it if you don’t want to though. I’m having a pretty good time by myself.”

It took only a few moments for the phone to light up next to the laptop. A grin appeared on your face as you reached out to answer it, pressing the speaker button before leaning back to get comfortable in your chair. 

“Name and social security number please,” you joked, crossing your arms over your chest as you smiled over to the camera.

“Wonwoo, 738203830,” the voice answered back, causing you to gasp.

“Did anyone get that? Surely someone wrote that down,” you asked, grinning happily as you leaned forward to read through the flood of comments. “Some people caught that number, Wonwoo. Anything to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry to Kim Mingyu for outing his social security number,” the person stated, his seriousness making you laugh. The person on the phone chuckled too. “It’s not his actual number, by the way.”

“I’d hope not. If we’re thinking of the same Kim Mingyu, I’m positive he wouldn’t let you live another second if you gave that information away,” you laughed again, thinking about your good friend, Mingyu. 

“You’re right. Do you know him? Tall, good cook, thinks he’s good looking?”

“I do, but I’m not going to fuel his already big ego by talking about him during the show.”

“Good idea.”

“So, Wonwoo. Tell us about yourself. Anything interesting going on?” you asked, anticipating the stranger’s answer. Wonwoo hummed to himself in thought.

“My name is Wonwoo. I live off-campus with a few of my friends, Mingyu included. My major is--”

“Sorry to cut you off, Wonwoo, but if I have another awkward conversation about majors my head might explode. I said tell me something interesting! What are you doing right now?”

“Oh thank God, I wasn’t ready to have someone ask what classes I take and why I choose KU as my school. I hate when they ask that, by the way. Why do they care so much?” he questioned, making you chuckle.

“They don’t care. They’re just trying to fill the awkward silence with an awkward question.”

“Right. Well, what am I doing right now? Hm, I’m in my room watching your stream and talking to you. Mingyu’s cooking ramen for our other roommate Vernon, so I might steal some of it when he’s done making it.”

“It’s the right thing to do. But also, why are they cooking so late? It’s 11:30pm right now.”

“Vernon skipped dinner to go to the Asian-American club meeting. He’s one of the club leaders so he had a lot to do tonight.”

“That’s the best club on campus, by the way,” you pointed out to the camera. “Anyway, did you want to talk about anything, Wonwoo?”

“Hmm, let me think of something interesting. Should I ask an academic or existential question?” he asked, your eyebrows furrowing as you thought. 

“While I do love existential questions, I think since it's the end of the first week of school, we should talk about academic things. Don’t make it boring though. Maybe some advice?”

“Advice is a bit boring though…”

“I could just ask the next caller…”

“How do you get close to your peers?” Wonwoo quickly asked, making the smile on your face soften. “I mean, maybe we could give a few tips on making friends?” he suggested. You nodded along, clapping your hands gently.

“I like that, yeah. I know a lot of people, including myself, who had or are currently having a hard time getting close to others. Are you the same, Wonwoo?”

“I am.”

“Really? You don’t seem like it. We’ve had a good conversation so far, I think.”

“Yeah, but it’s easier to talk when you’re not face-to-face with the person, you know?”

“That’s true. Maybe that’s why I feel so comfortable talking to a stranger right now.”

“Maybe… Look, I know we said we weren’t going to talk about Mingyu, but he’s a good example for our question. He’s a talkative person, right?”

“Very talkative.”

Wonwoo laughed. “I met him halfway through my sophomore year. He was a freshman but he was more popular than anyone I knew. He came up to me in the cafeteria when I was eating alone and just struck up a conversation with me. I’m surprised he didn’t stop talking to me after that since I was very quiet and gave him short answers. He’s my best friend now, so I’ve witnessed a lot of encounters when he just goes up to someone randomly and talks to them. We went to the grocery store earlier today and he just started a conversation with a worker in the bread aisle…” Wonwoo paused for a few moments, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I guess I’ve always wanted to have his voice. Not like–not his actual voice, but his ability to talk to anyone and keep them interested.”

You hummed at Wonwoo’s words, eyes on the comments as you spoke. “It seems a few listeners have friends like this too. But, yeah, I get it. My friend Yuqi is very extroverted as well. I wish I could make friends as easily as her, but also, I can tell it’s exhausting for them to talk so much. I don’t know about Mingyu, but Yuqi comes back to our apartment after a party and immediately crashes. She pushes herself to talk to all these people, but it just tires herself out. I’m sure if I tried to be that extroverted, I would probably die.”

“Same. I remember after my freshman orientation week, I slept for twenty-seven hours straight. I was going to sleep for more, but my roommate at the time called the on-campus police saying he thought I was dead.”

“Twenty-seven hours? Jeez, you practically were dead! But seriously, talking to people is so exhausting. Especially during freshman orientation! The amount of people I talked to during then was more than I’ve talked to in my entire life.”

“Of all those people I met, I only talk to one of them today. All of it was pretty pointless, but I’ve heard some people meet their best friends during that first week.”

“Yeah, I met a few of mine during then too. But, anyway, back to the question. How do you get close to people? Well, my advice is to remember that whatever you’re insecure about, whether it's your personality, your body, whatever, it does not matter. When you’re meeting someone, don’t focus on the negative things, like if you’re making a fool of yourself or if you look bad. No one cares that much, and if they do, they aren’t a good friend.”

“This is why it took me so long to make friends. I always felt that no one was listening to me when I spoke, so I convinced myself that I had nothing important to say. But my friends now teach me that my voice matters. Vernon especially. He doesn’t talk much, to begin with, but when he does everyone focuses on him, because we care about what he has to say. And when I talk, everyone looks at me and I feel like they’re listening.”

“That’s important, by the way! Make eye contact when you’re speaking with people. I feel so shitty when people aren’t looking at me while I’m talking. I always trail off and just stop talking. Make eye contact, and don’t multitask when someone is talking to you. It’s rude.”

“Don’t get me started on that. I hate when people are doing other things during a conversation, especially if we’re talking about something deep or important. And I really hate when people don’t listen to me after I just listened to them.”

“Please, everyone, listen when people talk. My self-esteem gets so low when people don’t listen to what I have to say. So please, listen to people and be active in the conversation.”

“Being active in the conversation is really important.”

“Exactly. So, in conclusion, listen, be active, and make eye contact. If you make people feel good while you’re talking, they’ll want to talk to you more,” you stated while pointing at the camera with a stern look on your face. You heard Wonwoo chuckle, causing your hand to falter. “Why are you laughing?”

“You’re just cute,” he answered simply, causing a blush to spread across your cheeks. You looked away from the camera, suddenly feeling very shy. “Wow, really? All it took was calling you cute to stop you from talking?”

“It caught me off guard,” you whined slightly, hiding your face with your hands. Wonwoo laughed at your reaction, causing a wide smile to fall on your lips. You removed your hands from your face, smiling at the phone. “Did Mingyu finish making the ramen?” you asked, resting your arms on the table. 

“Yeah, a while ago.”

“What? Why didn’t you go eat it?”

“Because I was talking to you. But I should go now. I think they’re watching Single’s Inferno without me.”

“Alright, Wonwoo,” you pouted slightly, sighing as you traced your finger on the table’s wood. 

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Y/N,” Wonwoo chuckled softly. It was embarrassing how easily a stranger could make your cheeks redden. The conversation with Wonwoo was the best one you’ve had in a while, and you were sad to end the call.

“I’m not,” you denied, sitting up to scoot closer to your laptop. You read through a few comments before speaking up. “The people don’t want you to leave.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you answered, reading a few more comments. “Someone said you should co-host the show with me,” you giggled.

“That sounds fun. Maybe I’ll look into it for you.”

“Don’t be cheesy,” you muttered with a smile, switching your laptop tabs from the Twitch stream to your Spotify. “Before you go, any song requests?” you asked, trying not to sound sad as you spoke. Wonwoo hummed in thought.

“I’ve been listening to SUHO’s album recently, Self-Portrait?”

“I love that album,” you smiled.

“It’s really good. Could I request a song from it?”

“Of course.”

“Okay… maybe, Let’s Love,” Wonwoo suggested, your heart doing a million flips as you typed the song into the search bar. 

“I’ll make sure to play it next. Thank you for this lovely conversation, Wonwoo. Eat well tonight and get some rest,” you stated. “Tell Mingyu to make me ramen sometime, too.”

“Will do. Thanks for talking with me, Y/N. Goodnight, sleep well after the show.”

The line ended shortly after, a sad smile resting on your face. You sighed, looking back to the camera with a wider smile. 

“Now, I will be playing Wonwoo’s song request. It’s one of my favorites off the mini-album, Self-Love. This is Let’s Love, by EXO’s SUHO.”

You held two more shows on Saturday and Sunday night, silently wishing Wonwoo would call again. You had good conversations with other students, but none were as riveting as the one you had with Wonwoo. It was probably easy to search him up, and you contemplated doing so during your free period between classes on Monday as you sat in the campus cafe with Yuqi across from you. Your finger hovered over the Instagram search button, where you had typed in Wonwoo’s name, but to avoid being a creep, you exited out of the app and placed your phone on the table.

“Dude, found your mystery man,” Yuqi spoke up, causing you to nearly spit out your drink. You looked up at her, raising your eyebrows in confusion.

“What?”

“Wonwoo, that guy you talked to during the show on Friday. He’s in Mingyu’s recent post. They went to some water park,” Yuqi stated, still scrolling through her phone. “They all have really good bodies…” she trailed off, staring dreamily at her screen.

“Are you not going to show me?” you questioned, leaning forward to look at her phone. She giggled at your eagerness, turning her phone to face you.

In the photo, Mingyu was standing next to three other guys, including Minghao, who was a partner of yours in your Photography class. You tapped on the picture, revealing the tags of the others standing with them. There was a person tagged vernon_98, who you immediately identified as the Vernon that Wonwoo talked about during your call. Which meant, the other person tagged as everyone_woo was Wonwoo.

You blinked at the picture, taking in the visuals of your mystery caller. You noted his black hair and his glasses which made him look surprisingly good. You blushed slightly at how the wet suit he wore was tight against his muscles, revealing his large biceps and pecs. He held up a peace sign, your eyes trailing to his hand. He was so incredibly handsome, and you just had a conversation with him like it was nothing. 

“Oh my God,” you muttered. “He’s hot?!”

[estellan0vella]

Eras ❀ includes: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna & Toji Masterlist Masterlist for Eras AU

The jazz band blares out a lively tune as you step into the opulent ballroom, your sequined dress catching the light with every step. The air is thick with the smell of expensive cigars and the sound of clinking glasses. You are a flapper, embodying the rebellious spirit of the Roaring 20s. This is not just any party; it’s one of Gojo Satoru’s infamous soirées.

You scan the room, looking for the host. It doesn't take long; Gojo’s height and shock of white hair make him easy to spot. He stands at the center of a group, his laughter echoing above the music. As you approach, he turns his gaze to you, his piercing blue eyes glinting with amusement.

“Ah, the belle of the ball has arrived,” he announces, his voice smooth and confident. The crowd parts for you, and suddenly, all eyes are on you.

“Mr. Gojo,” you greet, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. “Quite the party you’re throwing.”

He grins, a playful spark in his eyes. “Only the best for my guests. And please, call me Satoru.”

You smile, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Satoru, then. How do you manage to outdo yourself every time?”

He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “It’s all about having the right people here.” His words send a shiver down your spine, and you realize he’s not just talking about anyone; he means you.

The night progresses in a blur of laughter and dancing. Gojo’s presence is magnetic, drawing you in with every glance and word. You dance together, the world around you fading into the background. In his arms, you feel alive, exhilarated by the energy of the era and the man himself.

As the clock strikes midnight, Gojo leads you to a quieter corner of the ballroom. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” he says, his tone sincere, a stark contrast to his earlier playfulness.

You look into his eyes, feeling a connection that transcends the glitz and glamour of the evening. “And I’ve never met anyone like you, Satoru.”

He smiles, and for a moment, it feels like the start of something truly special. In the Roaring 20s, amidst the decadence and excess, you’ve found a kindred spirit in Gojo Satoru.

The grand halls of the Victorian manor are filled with the rustle of silk and murmurs of polite conversation. You, a lady of society, glide through the crowd, your corset tight and posture impeccable. The chandeliers above cast a warm glow, illuminating the room with an air of sophistication and restraint.

You’ve heard whispers of a new arrival in town—Kento Nanami, a man of impeccable manners and mysterious origins. It is at Lady Pembroke’s soirée that you finally see him, standing by the fireplace, his demeanor reserved yet commanding. His eyes, framed by a pair of elegant glasses, scan the room with an air of quiet contemplation.

Gathering your courage, you approach him. “Mr. Nanami, I presume?”

He turns to you, bowing slightly. “Indeed, Miss…?”

You offer your name, and he nods in acknowledgment. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

You engage in polite conversation, finding him to be both intelligent and composed. There is a gravity to his presence, a sense of depth that intrigues you. As the evening progresses, you find yourself drawn to him, captivated by his quiet strength and unwavering sense of duty.

Later, as the guests disperse for supper, Nanami offers you his arm. “May I escort you to the dining hall?”

You accept, feeling a flutter in your chest as his hand lightly rests on yours. “Thank you, Mr. Nanami.”

As you walk, you talk of literature, philosophy, and the intricacies of Victorian society. His insights are profound, his words carefully chosen. You feel a sense of kinship, as if you’ve found someone who understands the complexities of your world.

In the dining hall, you are seated next to him. The conversation flows easily, and you find yourself laughing more than you have in months. Nanami’s reserved exterior softens, revealing a man of wit and warmth.

As the evening draws to a close, Nanami escorts you to the garden for a breath of fresh air. The moonlight casts a silver sheen over the manicured lawns, and the scent of roses fills the air.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Mr. Nanami,” you say softly, feeling a sense of contentment you hadn’t expected.

He turns to you, his expression serious yet kind. “The pleasure was mine. I hope we can meet again.”

You smile, feeling a connection that goes beyond the formalities of Victorian society. “I would like that very much.”

As you part ways, you know that this encounter is the beginning of something meaningful. In the rigid confines of Victorian society, you have found a kindred spirit in Kento Nanami, a man who sees beyond the surface to the heart of who you are.

You glide across the roller rink, the hum of neon lights reflecting off your sequined shorts and illuminating the smooth, glossy floor beneath your wheels. The beat of a synth-heavy song thrums in your chest, fueling your every movement. You’re in your element, the queen of this concrete palace, spinning and twirling with a freedom you rarely find elsewhere. The 80s are your time, a decade of wild colors, wild music, and wild dreams.

Amidst the fluorescent haze, a figure catches your eye. He’s standing by the arcade machines, leaning against the wall with an air of disinterest. His style is an anomaly in this vibrant space—dark, brooding, and undeniably grunge. Torn jeans, a faded band tee, and a flannel shirt wrapped around his waist, he looks like he’s been pulled from a Seattle garage band and dropped into your technicolor world. His hair is a wild mess of black, strands falling over eyes that watch you with a curious intensity.

You feel a magnetic pull toward him, curiosity getting the better of you. With a final spin, you make your way over, your wheels humming against the floor. As you approach, his eyes flicker with recognition, though you’re certain you’ve never met him before.

“Hey there, enjoying the show?” you quip, flashing him a bright smile.

He tilts his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “You could say that. You’re pretty good out there.”

“Thanks,” you reply, leaning against the machine next to him. “Name’s [Y/N]. And you are?”

“Choso,” he answers, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.

There’s a silence that stretches between you, filled with the distant clatter of pinball machines and the shrill cries of children chasing each other around the rink. Choso’s presence is a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere, yet it feels oddly fitting.

“What brings you here?” you ask, curiosity piqued. “You don’t exactly look like the roller-skating type.”

He chuckles softly, a sound that’s more breath than voice. “I could ask you the same thing. But, let’s just say I’m here for the vibes.”

You laugh, a sound that seems to light up his eyes just a bit. “Fair enough. You wanna give it a try? Skating, I mean.”

He hesitates, glancing at the rink with a mix of skepticism and intrigue. “I don’t know...”

“Come on, I’ll teach you,” you insist, grabbing his hand. His skin is cool to the touch, contrasting with the warmth of the roller rink. You pull him towards the rental counter, feeling a spark of excitement.

Minutes later, he’s wobbling on the rink, arms flailing as he tries to find his balance. You’re by his side, guiding him with a firm grip on his arm. Laughter bubbles from your lips as he nearly takes both of you down in a tangle of limbs.

“Easy there, big guy,” you tease, steadying him. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. With your guidance, he begins to find a rhythm, his movements becoming more fluid. The two of you glide together, an unlikely pair in this neon dream.

For a moment, time seems to stand still. In the middle of a decade defined by its exuberance, you find a quiet connection with this grunge enigma. And as the night wears on, you realize that sometimes, the most unexpected encounters can leave the biggest impressions.

The jazz club pulses with an intoxicating rhythm, a symphony of brass and percussion weaving through the smoky air. It’s the 1950s, and the city is alive with a mix of glamour and danger. You adjust the hem of your sleek, black dress, feeling the soft fabric against your skin as you make your way to a table near the stage. Tonight, you’re here for a taste of excitement, a break from the monotony of everyday life.

As you sit down, your eyes are drawn to the man sitting at the bar. Sukuna. He’s impossible to miss, with his sharp suit tailored to perfection and a fedora tilted just so. There’s an aura of power and menace about him, a reputation that precedes him in the whispers of the city's underworld. He’s a gangster, they say, a man who commands respect and instills fear.

You order a drink, trying to act nonchalant, but you can’t help but steal glances at him. His gaze is intense, scanning the room with a predatory grace. When his eyes land on you, your breath catches. There’s something in his look that sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of danger and allure that you can’t resist.

As the night progresses, you find yourself more and more entranced by him. He moves with a confidence that speaks of a man who is always in control, who always gets what he wants. When he finally approaches your table, you feel a thrill of anticipation.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice smooth and commanding.

You nod, unable to find your voice for a moment. “Please, have a seat.”

He sits down, his presence overwhelming in the most captivating way. “What’s your name, dollface?”

You tell him your name as you light a cigarette, placing it between your cherry-red lips as he watches your every move.

“Sukuna,” he introduces himself, though you already know who he is. There’s no need for pleasantries; his name carries weight in this city.

The conversation flows effortlessly, his charm drawing you in as your beauty and wit draw him in.

“Why do you do it?” you ask, genuinely curious as you blow smoke out of your mouth. “Why the life of a gangster?”

He leans back, a glint in his eye as a cigarette dangles between his lips. “Power, money, respect. It’s a game, and I play to win. But it’s more than that. It’s about control. In this city, you’re either in control or you’re nothing.”

You nod, understanding more than you thought you would. There’s a part of you that’s always been drawn to the thrill of the unknown, the edge of danger. With Sukuna, you feel alive, your senses heightened in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

As the night wears on, the jazz music softens, and the club starts to empty out. Sukuna stands, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here, dollface. I want to show you something.”

You take his hand, feeling a rush of excitement. He leads you through the dark streets, the city’s pulse thrumming around you. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but you trust him, feeling a strange sense of security in his presence.

Finally, you reach a high-rise building, and he takes you to the rooftop. The city sprawls out below, a sea of lights and shadows. Sukuna stands beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“This city is mine,” he says softly, almost to himself. “And now, you’re a part of it too. If you want to be”

You look at him, feeling a connection that goes beyond words. In this moment, under the night sky, you realize that meeting Sukuna has changed you. You’re no longer just a spectator in the world of shadows and intrigue; you’re a participant, drawn into the orbit of a man who commands the night.

Dust swirls around your boots as you stride down the main street of the small, sun-baked town. The year is 1885, and the West is as wild as the rumours claim.

You lift your hand fan, shielding your eyes from the relentless sun, and glance at the makeshift stage set up near the saloon. Today, you’re here for a cause that burns brighter than the midday heat: women’s suffrage.

As a suffragette, you’ve travelled from town to town, rallying support and giving impassioned speeches to anyone who will listen. The West is a hard place for a woman with a voice, but you’re determined to be heard. With a deep breath, you step onto the stage, clutching your notes.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you begin, your voice clear and strong, “we stand at the threshold of a new era. An era where women’s voices are no longer silenced, where our rights are recognized and respected. It’s time for change.”

Your words carry through the dusty streets, drawing the attention of townsfolk and drifters alike. Among the crowd, you notice a figure leaning against a post, his hat pulled low over his eyes and there's a visible scar on his lip.

There’s an air of danger about him, an outlaw’s swagger that sets him apart from the rest. He watches you with a smirk that’s both infuriating and intriguing.

After your speech, as you gather your things, the outlaw approaches. His presence is imposing, his eyes sharp and assessing. “Well, now, that was quite the speech, miss,” he drawls, his voice a lazy rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you,” you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. “I believe in what I’m fighting for.”

He chuckles, a low, amused sound. “Name’s Toji. And you’re quite the firebrand, aren’t ya?”

You tell him your name, extending a hand. He takes it, his grip firm and calloused. “And yes, I suppose I am. Someone has to be.”

“Toji,” you repeat, the name rolling off your tongue. “What brings an outlaw like you to a suffrage rally?”

He shrugs, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Curiosity, mostly. Plus, I always did have a soft spot for troublemakers.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite yourself. “Is that what I am? A troublemaker?”

“In this town? Absolutely,” he says, tipping his hat back to reveal piercing green eyes. “But I like that. You’ve got guts.”

There’s a charged silence between you, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You’ve faced opposition before, but something about Toji’s presence is different. He’s a challenge, a force of nature that you can’t quite resist.

“I could say the same about you,” you reply, a spark of defiance in your voice. “Outlawing can’t be easy.”

He laughs again, the sound rich and full of life. “No, it ain’t. But it’s the only life I know. Tell me, troublemaker, what’s a suffragette like you doing in a place like this?”

“Changing the world, one speech at a time,” you answer without hesitation. “Every town, every person who listens, it all adds up. We’re making a difference.”

Toji nods, a glimmer of respect in his eyes. “I admire that. Takes a lot of guts to stand up for what you believe in.”

“Thank you,” you say, feeling a strange warmth at his words. “And what about you? What do you believe in?”

He grins, a flash of white teeth against his tanned skin. “Freedom. Doing what I want, when I want. Guess we’re not so different, you and me.”

“Maybe not,” you agree, feeling a connection form between you. It’s an unlikely alliance, a suffragette and an outlaw, but in the wild, unpredictable West, anything is possible.

As the sun sets, casting long shadows over the town, you find yourself walking beside Toji, sharing stories and dreams. In a place where danger and opportunity walk hand in hand, you realize that sometimes, the most unexpected partnerships can lead to the most extraordinary adventures.

This took me AGESSSSS. Been cooking this properly. Definitely going to make full imagines for each character too

[obitez]

We met at a party

For @bucktommywinterfest

Round 5: Midnight Kiss

Rating: T | Word Count: 2,937

Warnings: None

Additional Tags: AU- Different First Meeting, New Year's Eve Party, Fluff

Buck wasn’t thrilled to be here, to be honest. This was what? The third year in a row he had been single during the holidays, he and Natalia had finally called it quits a week after Thanksgiving. It wasn’t that he was single during that whole time period either, only during these two weeks specifically that came each year. Maddie had invited him to the New Year’s Party that her and Chimney had decided to throw at their house, and of course he said he would go. Only now for some reason, he was beginning to realize that he seemed to be the only single person in their friend group. Maddie and Chimney were about to get married in a couple months. Athena and Bobby were a couple, so were Hen and Karen. Even Eddie was still going strong with Marisol, even though she had pulled him to some other party her brother was hosting across town. Even Josh had found some guy to bring to this thing. But at the same time, as much as he felt sorry for himself for being the only single guy he knew here, if he wasn’t here, where would he be? At his loft watching the New Year’s Eve show on TV? Boring. At some bar trying to hook up with some women he hadn’t met and probably wouldn’t be talking to again in a week? Not boring, but far from ideal. 

As he was walking around the kitchen and munching on the snacks people had brought along, Buck did notice one thing. It seemed that Maddie and Chimney’s social circles were a lot larger than Buck had ever realized before.  Buck guessed that a handful of these people probably worked at dispatch with Maddie, another handful probably worked with Chimney over the years, Buck knew Chimney had been a firefighter for at least ten years longer than he had been. And another handful were probably people Maddie knew from the yoga class she went to and the playdates they took Jee to.  Buck looked around, outside of Josh, the 118 and their partners, he didn’t recognize anyone. He wasn’t really sure what that said about himself. That most of his social circle were people he worked with? That he should try and expand who he interacted with by… a lot?  Buck looked down at the snack table and grumbled to himself. There was a lot of food there, a whole lot of food. Enough that people were just ignoring the pigs-in-a-blanket he had slaved over that morning. Well ‘slaved over’ might be an overstatement, it took him thirty minutes to make. But no one had eaten any besides himself, so he had a reason to feel his food was being ignored.  “Do you know what that’s supposed to be, exactly?” he heard a voice ask behind him.  Buck looked over a shoulder to see a man he didn’t remember ever meeting before. Did he work at dispatch? The man was about Buck’s height, maybe a half inch taller, had some curly hair on the top of his head, grayish-blue eyes, and a cleft on his chin. He wasn’t bad looking, Buck thought.    “What?” Buck asked, completely forgetting what the man had asked him.  “Those cookies,” the man repeated as he pointed down at the plate of cookies Bobby had brought that were now sitting right in the middle of the desert section. “Do you know what type those are supposed to be?”  “Oh those?” Buck asked. “Those are zucchini cookies.”  “Zucchini cookies,” the man repeated, looking at them with a small amount of trepidation.  “You should try one,” Buck added. “Bobby made them, they’re good.”  “Really?” the man asked, his eyebrows raising, he looked fully invested into what Buck had to say. It sent a shiver down Buck’s spine. “You had his food before I take it?”  “Oh yeah,” Buck nodded. “I”ve eaten a lot of his stuff. We work on the same shift and everything so…” “You work with Bobby and Chimney?” the man asked as he let out a small chuckle. “That’s funny. I used to work with both of them.” “Really?” Buck asked as he felt his eyes widen in surprise.  “Yeah,I used to work with them until around… I think it was seven years ago now,” the man started. “Then I transferred to air ops over at Harbor.” “Air ops?” Buck repeated. Did that mean what he thought it meant?  “Yeah, air operations. I fly the helicopters.” Buck’s eyes lit up upon hearing that. “That’s so cool!”  “Really?”  “Yeah,” Buck nodded. “Hey, my name’s Evan Buckley. I don’t think I ever got your name,” Buck said as he passed a plate into Tommy’s hands.  “Tommy Kinard,” the man introduced himself. 

[cryptidcorners]

Old Friend — Prince!Derek Danforth x GN!Reader [ Part 1/? ]

Description: A royal ball celebrating the end of a decade of pure isolation between Houses brings you and an old acquaintance together once again.

# No Request

# A.N: I'm literally gushing over DND here, lol! There's sm story shit. it's more lore explaining than actual romantic stuff, SOOO. sorry. hope you enjoy the AU pfft

Media: The Beekeeper [ AU ]

Character: Derek Danforth [ AU ]

Tags: DND/Fantasy Inspired AU, Royalty, PLOT, Lore Dumping, Friends to ? ? ?, Romantic Implications, Fluff, Slight Suggestiveness { if you squint }, Slowburn, Childhood Friends, Flirting, Catching Up, OOC!Derek [?], Sweet Talk + Reader is !GN.

Warnings: Mentions of War/Isolation, Depression, Childhood Trauma, Substances/Acholic Beverages + Smoking.

TOS. Derek Dandorth Master List {TBW}.

The ballroom had been mildly entertaining at most, while Dandorth House was certainly exotic with fruitullius pickings like booze, muzzled griffins and gowns, you had found yourself a mere wallflower near the belt of the corner. Your attentive gaze remained ill as you stared at the chorus of visitors from all across the world clad in their signature wear, dancing the night away with tipping mindscapes.

You were impressed by their shiny attempt to win over the other Houses with opium and silver statues not seduced. The idea of taking wine brewed by a Dandorth was an idea you'd never subscribe to, as much as you valued their efforts in ore distribution, they weren't a House you'd call a friend, more of a neighbor with the temper of a sun bear.

The shine of silk, flashing grins and laughter had made you feel as if you didn't belong, as if you were nothing but a lonley phantom enviously spectating the quartz floors.

Your House, Tallis, was a symbol of artistry, sculpting, poets and other powers were the foundations of your land. You were the only heir to the throne, sharing no brother or sister to extend a blade at down the line. Alas, you were greatful no family blood would bare at your fingertips, but the crippling loniliess had carved you into a quiet, yet respectful noble with dreams just like any Tallis; only you wished there was another one to share it with.

"Admiring the dancefloor are we?" A voice asked, it's tone as complex as the limestone statues of old characters fronted at the palace. You felt something buzz in your soul, and your gaze had flocked up to the host.

Prince Derek Dandorth, only, he was much older than when you last laid your eyes on him.

It was around midnight when both Houses declared they'd go into hiding to cower away from the war. It was your last royal ball together, and you weren't interested in leaving yet. You were both children then, dumb and in love. You both had scurried off and his yourselves near the old balcony that you were sure had been rebuilt with golden rimmings and white rose bushes.

"When will I ever see you again?" You asked desperly, hands interlocking with his soft fingertips. Derek's eyes had arrowed into you, deep with longing. Back when his hair was still an endless rush of dark, brunette curls and gentle highlights.

"I don't know, but it'll be soon. Our Houses may be splitting, but that doesn't mean we won't be able to dance again, will it?" Derek whispered. "We'll see each other again. We have to."

He had been wrong, and you had been grieving over that broken promise when you were children for a long time. The Dandorth and Tallis Houses were at a halt, conflicted by some nearby wars circling close to the walls.

It had resulted in both kingdoms locking themselves in their labyrinths of treasure, with eyes paved into the stone. You were isolated in your House, only seeking comfort in carving your inner desires into rich pavement that was now collecting dust in your Queenship's second guest bedroom.

Now, he was here, cocky as ever. With blonde hair and light reminces of forest green and flakes of emerald flickering across his face. His signature uniform was gorgeous, with carefully decorated leaves and patterns that resembled rich lingering. His crown set carefully in his forest of curls, and you swore you could smell cologne that burst your nostrils with pure dopamine.

"Derek?" You uttered, slack jawed.

You blinked and he waved his hand in front of your stunned expression teasingly.

His hand carefully tightened around his glass, "Now, that's no way to greet a prince in his own House, is it?" the heir cooed. Your face fell and you arched a brow, unimpressed at his mock of carelessness. Prince Dandorth was certainly an idealist, but he was definitely not an actor.

He laughed, tone deep as ivory. "I'm just messing with you, Noble Tallis." Then, he opened his arms for an inviting hug you immediately fell into. Although, he felt stiff, you could sense he was relived to see you again.

"You look different." You pulled back.

Derek's gaze remained on you, "You like it? The hair that is—I had it personally dyed, you can tell how organic it looks, yes?"

You could tell he was trying his best to seem noble. So, you teased. "Oh, the hair? I hadn't noticed, silly me. I couldn't help but notice your blush and gown—are those earrings?"

His fingers ran down the golden patterns with a soft smile. "Well, the House of artistry was attending, I had to look my best, especially for the only heir." A warm smile spread across his face. "It's been way too long." Derek said breathlessly, "I missed you."

Prince Danforth's face softened. "Well, thank the Gods."

You eased, trying to stir up some conversation. "How are you? I've heard your House is doing well after the release." 

He boasted. "People are desperate over our caverns, you would not believe how many travelers were mounted at our doorstep ready for trade." Derek confirmed after a sip, "We might be in need of your creativity again, the walls are so dull, and they can certainly use some of your flare, don't you think?" 

You were flattered. Your eyes ran down the exterior of the walls, lightly scratching your jaw. "You know, you're right. Your palace does look a little—" 

"A little, what? He urged. 

You humored. "Like it was designed by a commoner."

Derek laughed. "You've always had an eye for details like this. Good to know I wasn't disappointed to know you haven't changed that much."

Then, he asked. "How about you? Any new inventions or views on the world? Hearing about your House is like turning a Jack-in-the-box."

You chewed your lip awkwardly. As Derek had imagined, there were many views and advances in Tallis. Though, it had caused a whide fued between philosophers and their audience. It was overwhelming, but nonetheless, Tallis had been doing much better than any other House, even with its complications with political attributes. "It's . . . going well."

You knew it wasn't in Derek's character to pester, so he hummed in delight for your vague answer. His lips settled on his narrow class, drinking in a rich selection of dark champagne. His apex gaze settled on you, "Mind if I steal you away for a moment? I see you don't fancy the music or dancing." Derek offered his hand, "Just like old times," he suggested.

There wasn't a sliver of reluctance in your answer, you eagerly gripped his hand and let him guide you outside the ballroom. The wash of silence veiled over your ears as the intrusive rhythm of the party began to fade away.

You had forgotten how large Prince Danforth's palace was, with high walls itching towards the sky and silver veins ripping through the quartz floors. He drank up your silence. "Beautiful, isn't it? I know there might be a thousand mistakes in your eyes, but it's something else entirely to me. My people sculpted and built this castle for my House, my bloodline, and no matter what I do, I may never repay their labor."

Derek sighed, gaze masking apologetically as his speech had been led astray. "Sorry, I haven't spoken to you in a while. I have a lot on my chest, Noble Tallis."

"No, no. It's alright, I assure you. Don't apologize for simply speaking to me."

Derek smiled shyly, "Thank you." his voice relaxed at his offer, "Would you fancy a tour?"

"Absolutely." Your eyes fluttered.

Derek nudged his head forwards the split of hallways, "Come, then."

Your fingertips parted and you were slightly disappointed when he walked a few steps in front of you, arms spread out like a hawk as he basked in the light of the exquisite chandeliers hooked to the carved ceiling.

You felt like a child again. Two rebellious souls giggling and whispering, racing up the staircases like hummingbirds and gazing at the web of art pieces that mapped the generations of his House. Tales of war generals and royal blood rivalry. Derek in particular had a knack for history, giving his share of intelligence of his family tree with eager eyes.

"Is that your grandfather?"

"Great-grandfather." Derek corrected. "My father told me a lot about him, he was the loyalest king of this House. He truly cared for his people, and it's how we were able to advance this far at all. He just had faith." His eyes fell, "Though, I worry it's all going to go to waste."

"How so?"

Derek set his hand carefully on the painting, fingertips grazing gently across the teeth of the large canvas. "My mother has been pushing our classes too hard this last decade. It's caused a commotion within our walls, they don't trust the House anymore. I have no authority like her, she won't . . ." he choked back a cry. "I can't do anything, I'm useless. I'm only a Prince, I'm nothing compared her."

He felt your warm grasp on his shoulder. You whispered, "That's not true. You're many things, Derek. A dreamer, a loyalist. You'll be a great king, this I tell you."

Derek paused. "But what if my kingdom can't wait? They're being pushed to the edge, working like dogs. It's no good leading a nation when there's nothing left. I don't want to wait."

This was a lot to take in. Tallis had been oblivious to how quickly Danforth had been advancing like no other House, now you were truly worried. A rebellion was possible, and every House had almost lost all their work by the lower classes arriving at their pearly gates with mounts of fire.

His hands fumbled with his dressing, voice grim. "I'm the only heir, the only one left to fix up her mistakes." Derek turned to you with desperate eyes. "I feel like I'm in a cage. The walls have opened up again, yet, I don't feel free. Like a bird in a cage, do you know what that feels like? To act as an audience, almost no word in anything unless I'm told to."

You hadn't noticed Derek taking both your hands and pressing them against his chest. You exhaled lightly, "Derek. What is the queen doing to you?"

Was Queen Danforth imprisoning him? A Prince should have a voice, especially as the only heir. Your grip tightened, "Prince Danforth, whatever is happening . . . you can tell me anything. I promise, your word will remained sealed between my lips, nobody will know."

"Oh, but they will." Derek explained. "Someone will always know. There's ears in the brick and mortar, eyes from friends."

You made a noise as if you were being strangled. "But what about now? I feel as if you told me everything and nothing at the same time." You were at the edge of tears. You couldn't loose him, not again.

"I haven't told you a lick of what's truly happening." He told you. "There's so much you don't know, Tallis. So much to know, such little time."

You were so confused. This was only the tip of the iceberg according to Prince Danforth, he wasn't the type to lie for as spoiled as he was. Regardless, his eyes were the darkest shade of sincerity you had ever seen. Your voice was hushed, "What do I do? I can't leave like this, Derek."

"I promise, I'll tell you everything." Derek rested his forehead against yours, "I promise." then, he pulled away. "I love you too much to let you get hurt because of my ignorance. Time will tell, just be patient."

Derek desperately needed someone to talk to. About his injustice and personal conflict, but he felt the need to warn you as well. Something else was brewing, a conspiracy perhaps? What was Queen Danforth up to? Would you ever know? So many questions.

Then, you broke out of your paralysis when he had mentioned love. You stammered, "You love me?"

He was shocked, frozen in his step. "Of course, I do. You're so fantastic, intelligent and sensitive. If I didn't know any better I figured I'd be under a spell," Derek chuckled. "I may as well be at this point. I care about you, so much. I can't lie to you, but I can't put you in harm's way either."

Your face warmed. Before he could spin away, you held his hands tightly, getting lost in his eyes once again. His breath hitched, and you heard him swallow harshly. "Tallis?" Derek didn't pull away, you could even sense him bringing himself closer, "You know, if we do this, there will be no turning back . . ."

You were longing, "Then so be it. I've been locked away for too long, the only company being memories of you."

Derek's speech slowed, harsh and husky. "All my life, I've always gotten what I've want, everything I asked for. However, this is the first time I've felt—" he rasped. "I needed something as precious as you."

Cupid's arrow has pierced your soul, and you had read him well enough to press your lips against his own, melting into a kiss. Derek pulled away, catching his breath with a giggle. "Oh, Heavens, give me a moment."

"Never kissed someone before?" You asked.

"No, never." He hushed you with a peck, that descended into a deeper kiss. You ran your fingertips across his silky wear, and you could feel shivers running down his spine. He felt like a peasant on his knees, begging for a penny to add to his name. Derek had felt desperate before, but never like this.

A strong desire had pulled you closer, stealing each other's breath away. Your sentimental feelings grew thin once he pulled away after making a noise, which made his face flush in raw embarrassment.

"A thousand pardons, I just, got a little wrapped into it." Derek mumbled and then repeated. "Sorry,"

"Don't be, I liked it, I promise." You traced his thumb to his cheek, lightly circling his warm skin. "Thank you for taking me out, and telling me everything, or . . . most of it at least."

Derek's face softened and rested his hand on yours. His face fell, "If I could, I'd run away with you, start somewhere fresh."

"Derek, you know we can't. We're the only heirs, the only ones who can hold the throne and make a difference. It's our duty."

He dipped his head, saddened at the taste of reality, "I know, I know, but a man can dream." though your face was infectious enough to let a smile spread across his face.

The rest of the night had been tranquill and hush, a few fruitful hours of nothing but gentle praises and a few butterfly kisses here and there without disturbance, until you finally stopped near a pool where a seahawk was perched, beak wrestling weeds out of the water. It was growing late and you could sense your House would be departing soon enough.

Derek took your hand once more, resting his lips on your knuckles. "This was a wonderful evening, Tallis."

"I hope I get to see you again." You told him.

"I'll make sure to write to you, maybe through a messenger bird so it's extra private." Derek toyed. "Maybe you can send me those beautiful drawings of yours."

You smiled softly. "I'll think about it."

You had kissed him goodbye again, before you could stir away from his side, his warm breath tickled your ear. "And don't forget what we spoke about,"

Dawn was tickling the air and the clouds were heavy with the deep scarlet of sunrise. Derek had gotten no sleep tonight, as his attention was too busy wandering through chapters of you. It wasn't the only thing keeping him up, as his mind was still swampy with anxiety. He had only fueled your curiosity to solve Danforth's conspiracy, all because his emotional vulnerability had gotten the better of him and he couldn't bring himself to hold back.

He walked tiredly to his study and wrapped his hands around the careful mold of his desk, carefully reelimg out a sealed envelope from the darkness of his cabinets. A red stamped, engraved with a symbol resembling a furious bee hunching over its stinger to the side was in bold, almost intimidating him. Derek's gaze hardened, he knew there was something else to his symbol,

And he would get to the bottom of it.

[wordsofoleander]

🌸 answer me, my prince!

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a suave prince with all he could ever ask for. a starry-eyed editor who longed for more. two unexpected penpals from vastly different worlds.

they were undoubtedly fated to meet, but never face-to-face.

❥ 735 words ❥ tags: au, fluff, slightly angsty if you blink, very very self-indulgent, no beta we die like chads, mentions of cove, qiu, and my ol2 mc! ❥ notes: the hyperfixation was so strong i emerged from inactivity. i finished the comic this fic shares a title with last weekend and refused to move on,,, made for #baxtermcweek (day 4 prompt: au), hosted by @minthe-drawings

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He doesn’t realize how long he’s repeatedly been opening and closing the empty book chest until he slams it shut a little too loud, snapping him out of his reverie. His eyes dart left and right and his ears stay alert in case he accidentally woke anyone up.

He hears nothing, so hopefully the coast is clear. He opens the book chest again, and the letter he’s waited all night for sits perfectly inside, having appeared out of thin air. 

He needs not wait to carefully examine the envelope or admire its design (far more cleaner-cut and colorful than what he's received from others over the years) as he immediately gets to reading.

—

Prince Baxter Alexander.

You’re getting better at pressuring me to reply to you faster and faster. It scares me a little.

Regarding your story, I think what you did for their sake was quite admirable. I can’t even imagine going as far as to pretend to be Cove’s fiancée for his protection, let alone for 5 years! But back to you. Since you didn’t end up falling in love with each other, does this mean Lady Ysabel’s lover is much more good-looking than you are? Would you mind getting a portrait of the Laird Qiu for your friend?

—

Silly Iri.

(You’ve never asked me for my portrait. You wound me. Nonetheless, I forgive you.)

You of all people should be able to know that not every long-standing friendship necessarily has the potential to end in romance.

—

Like us?

—

We are a bit of a special case because I do not think of Ysabel every day.

—

(Oh, what am I going to do with you?)

Ever the type to give people the answers they want to hear now, are you? You’re surrounded by far more impressive people in your daily life, people you can actually talk to and see.  I highly doubt that you think of me every day.

(PS It’s way past midnight, so I should probably get ready for bed if I don’t want to be late for work. Sleep well, my prince.)

—

Irina Clarice, my sick twisted friend.

What? Is laying my entire self bare to you, heart and soul, in the written word last night not enough for you? After all the times I’ve spent my evenings waiting for your letters?

I specifically chose this time of year to get away from my parents under the guise of avoiding the heat and helping the monks at the scriptorium. Summer, after all, is the perfect time to do something crazy, pursue a new beauty, to start anew. I confess to you that I imagined nightly sneak-outs to rendezvous with someone who’s caught my eye, but all this time, I’ve been holed up in the scriptorium’s writing room, idly and politely waiting by the book chest on my desk in anticipation to see if you have replied to what I’ve written about my latest misadventures. Before I knew it, I’d already spent the entirety of my summer getting to know you. Now I do know you, and there is no one else like you anywhere else in the world. 

Tragically, we shall never have the chance to meet, so I don’t think whatever it is I’m feeling in my chest can be called love. My fate is sealed. 

Still, whenever the sight of someone so beautiful catches my eye, thoughts of you fill my head, and I become almost upset, complaining that no matter who I meet, they will never be anything like my Iri. So, my dear friend, do not tell me that I do not think of you every day. 

I do not recall you mentioning having felt this way towards your childhood companions, nor your devilishly handsome Xander from the antique shop,  so I shall regrettably but with dignity take this as a victory.

On a lonely night on the month of heat’s end, Your Baxter Alexander.

(PS Clarence and I are departing tomorrow at dawn for Golden Grove to attend Qiu’s wedding, just in time for the beginning of fall. Bringing the book chest with me would be far too bothersome for such a short trip. I expect to be away for about three to four days.

Even so, worry not your pretty little head and get a good night’s rest without my letters to bother you, Iri. I hope you do not miss me too much.)

[bernardellinewsagency]

back with even more trigun x honkai star rail crossover thoughts, this time inspired by @jiinglespurs's veritas the punisher fanart :D though i'm not sure if i can call this just "thoughts" when it's turned into uh... several paragraphs of rambling and then a 2k word ratiorine fanfic about it. it's mostly unedited because i think i wrote most of it in some sort of possessed/fugue state where i was solely consumed by the need to have aventurine as vash, veritas as wolfwood, and for them to hurt my own feelings, but yeah in total this is around three thousand words in one post. i'm gonna hide it under a cut for everyone's sake :)

to start, no man's land is now penacony, of course. instead of seven cities, it's twelve, based on the twelve dreamscapes. now, most of these cities are just there to exist in the background and/or be destroyed. the lore important ones are midnight, sol, and morning dew (idk if the names should be changed to sound more like locations but trigun has cities named after months, names like morning dew aren't entirely out of the question).

midnight is where ships first crashed onto the planet, dooming humanity to a lonesome existence in this new world. however, despite being the vash and nai representative characters, this wasn't because of kakavasha and sunday. no, it was mikhail and gopher wood, the watchmaker and the dreammaster whose actions helped shape the penacony storyline in canon. these days, it's mostly a ghost town, the remnants of the first human civilizations on the planet. and morning dew is the july of this world, the location where shit will be going down, since it's where the dewlight pavilion is in canon so it'd be wherever sunday hosts his currently unnamed religious fanaticism organization.

in canon, sol is the dreamscape known for museums, libraries, and academies. thus, this becomes where veritas is from. to take more from wolfwood's backstory, he would've been an orphan there, brought up in an orphanage and not really able to get a proper education. luckily for him, i feel like he'd be a pretty self sufficient learner- he could've stolen books and snuck into buildings to help teach himself math, science, philosophy, etc. seeing his potential, the orphanage probably would've wanted to help send him to school, but he would insist that if they sent anyone, it would be the other kids who'd need it more than him, or that they save their money for food and supplies. a pity, perhaps if he did go away to school then he wouldn't have been taken and made into a killer rather than a scholar.

remember how i said that things would've been caused by gopher wood and mikhail? well, both of them are dead now. mikhail would've died first, which is rather unfortunate because then gopher wood would've been able to make a power grab and form the currently unnamed organization (though it'll probably be named after smth to do with the harmony or the order) incredibly powerful and influential within penacony. he would've had grand plans, and i think sunday should coup him before he could do much with them. kill his father, take his power, be more ambitious that he ever could.

speaking of this unnamed organization, its members are this au's versions of the gung-ho guns and can really be any character who shows up in the penacony quests. there's veritas the punisher, of course, and it's now led by dominicus, the name sunday goes just like how nai goes by millions knives. very transgender of both of them. then there's gallagher the hound, sparkle the fool, and while i don't have any ideas for robin, those three would be in the upper echelons of this group; both because sunday wants to keep his friends close and his enemies (of which gallagher and sparkle are certainly both possibilities) closer, and because the four remind me of the four harmonic strings, and sunday would definitely love the symbolism of that. i've also got two other ideas for its members: acheron the blade, an accomplished swordswoman known for never unsheathing her sword in a fight, and samuel the cavalry, an unknown young woman cloaked in both brutality and a fearsome armor made from lost tech.

why is kakavasha on the run from sunday and his organization? he's the vash adjacent character in this au, but he's not actually related to sunday, the two don't have any original closeness to utilize. but the glory of an au is that you can put canon into a paper shredder and say things like "maybe the avgins were there before anyone crash landed onto the planet. maybe kakavasha is still the last of his kind. and because i can, maybe he's got some fun powers that i can use to make him get homoerotic with veritas but can also serve as a reason why sunday is hunting him down." really i just need to be able to make him suffer more than jesus for my own entertainment.

and finally, i love the thought of eve being jade's real name, so it's jelena and eve who end up traveling with kakavasha across the world. they're meant to be like the insurance girls, financial sector employees who have ended up sticking with him because of the monetary disasters he keeps causing everywhere he goes.

ONTO THE GOOD STUFF. IT'S FANFIC TIME.

"what the hell were you thinking, blondie?" veritas yells, crouching beneath a half destroyed wall as the top of it gets riddled with bullets, spinning the punisher around and firing backwards without looking. he doesn't have to; they drilled him on trajectories and distances and angles so much he doesn't even need to run the numbers, his hearing helping to pick up on where the bandits are and his hands naturally guiding his aim. it's not a guarantee that he hit where he wanted every time, but he hears the first three bodies drop like apples from a tree, while the fourth cries out in terror and moves in time to flee.

"i had a plan, veritas! no one was going to get hurt!" he's a damn good liar, that kakavasha, because veritas can smell the blood coming from his arm, enhanced senses tuned in to everything around him more than he would ever like to be. now is not the time to be overwhelmed by all that. covering his ears, veritas remains crouched as another explosion sounds off behind the two of them, and then he takes off. keeping the punisher close to his chest, he counts the footsteps he can hear as he runs, the way kakavasha's catch up to him.

he's taller, but kakavasha is faster. veritas has shorter strides despite having longer legs, it's just because of the way he runs while burdened with such a heavy weight. kakavasha barely touches the ground as he sprints though, especially when they aren't yet back to the sand that surrounds the sprawling metropolitan city of blue hour. an ever-growing town situated with a monopoly of the largest body of water in penacony means the people here certainly wouldn't struggle with shitty roads, and it also means it's a shitty place for them to have run into the fool.

ten more steps. five more. two- kakavasha overtakes him, and veritas finishes counting down the beats in his head. keeping perfect time with the fool's rhythm, he spins, firing a single shot at the explosive doll that's launched towards them. it hits perfectly, and even though whatever charge sparkle put in this one is stronger than the rest, it's still within the parameters veritas had set. kakavasha is out of the blast radius, and the punisher absorbs most of the force of the shockwave and the shrapnel from it, leaving veritas to deal with just a piece that nicks his side and the searing heat.

no time to waste after that; he turns right back around and keeps running, easily falling into step with kakavasha as they both time their steps with each others’. "you think you could have a plan to deal with this? you've heard about the fool before, right? you can't predict what's going to happen next, there isn't any game theory about the best course of action you can apply to this!"

"you predicted that bomb!" kakavasha points out, both yelling to be heard.

"yes, as a one time thing, not a broad overview of this entire scenario! there's no strategy to minimize harm!" he tugs kakavasha into a tight left turn, hearing footsteps from the direction they had been headed. "sparkle doesn't play by any games' rules, only her own. the only way we might be able to deal with her is to get rid of her stage and her audience, and that's this whole damn town!"

he'd have to be more of a fool than dominicus' latest assassin to miss the way that kakavasha looks at him, unnatural eyes wide and staring through those obnoxious pink glasses of him. "you sure know a lot about her," he says once they manage to stop for a moment to catch their breath.

veritas very nearly doesn't resist the urge to go and snap those glasses in half. "well, you heard what miss eve has said before. i'm quite well learned, for someone like me. i'm more worried that you don't seem to know anything at all about the people hunting you down!"

laughing nervously, the way kakavasha checks the ammo of his revolver is one of the most obvious tells veritas has ever seen, second only to the way his fist is always held behind his back as he talks monsters out of mayhem to spare others' lives. it's a tell that reminds him entirely too much of this martyr's opposite, and he forces the thought from his mind. "i'd really prefer it if they didn't have to do so, you know, it'd make this whole journey much more pleasant. after all, i've already got you here with me, right? no need for anyone else."

for all that veritas is well versed in practical manners, his body and mind honed to perfection, the heart and feelings continue to elude his grasp. he has no idea what emotion it is that overtakes him- rage? confusion? fear? something else entirely? all he knows is that he looks over at kakavasha, and that idiot is just grinning at him, just smiling as if he isn't hinting at everything that's been threatening to tear down veritas' entire world.

moving without thinking, dust fills the air as he slams kakavasha against the nearest wall, a hand gripped around his neck and not letting go. "what the fuck do you think you know about?" he yells, tightening his hold. "you- you fucking bastard, how long have you known?"

in the split second attack, kakavasha's glasses must have fallen to the ground, because he's met with the full force of that multicolored gaze that always cuts quick to his very core. "since we met," he wheezes, "i've known all along."

veritas drops him, watching kakavasha fall to sit on the ground as something unfamiliar writhes within his gut. "you knew? and you- you didn't do anything about it? how in the world could anyone, even you, make a gamble with such high stakes? just because you think you know me? were you just going to let me get close to you- no, not even you, were you going to play with jelena and eve's lives like that? just bet that i won't kill them, that they won't end up as more innocent casualties because of you, stampede?"

"hear what you're saying?" kakavasha sounds too smug, too fucking sure of himself, like he's already won this argument, and veritas turns around so he won't have to see the same expression on the bastard's face. "you care about them. you wouldn't let them get harmed in a fight, you're not about to go and hurt them yourself. you're a good person, veritas, and i trust you-"

"no," he spits, seething with vitriol bubbling up to the surface. "you're naive, stampede, you're a gambler and a fool-"

"funny," comes another voice, lilting and feminine, "i thought that i was the fool here."

the argument seems to be unanimously paused as both whip their heads around to stare at the newcomer, guns drawn and at the ready. she just laughs at that, raising her hands to show that she's not carrying any of the dolls she's been using to wreak havoc across blue hour. "easy, boys, no need for such hostility!"

veritas makes sure he's aiming right between her eyes. "what the fuck do you want?"

more giggles. "entertainment, of course! and this little lover's spat is more entertaining than what the rest of the town has become. those girls you mentioned spoiled most of the fun for me, taking away my grand audience and actors, so i had to look for something else!"

jelena and eve got the citizens away. veritas sighs with relief at the realization. there will still be piles of bodies and rubble to clean up, but the girls must've come up with some type of evacuation plan after the four got separated. his grip on the punisher loosens slightly, but not enough to not aim to kill. "so, did you get the entertainment you wanted?"

"of course! and even though you're entertaining, i know that you won't kill me, punisher, and your little blond puppy over there definitely won't, no matter how thrilling that would be to see! so, i'll see myself out, as i'm getting rather bored here. toodle-oo!"

even he can't see where she got the last doll from, considering he hadn't seen any with her, but maybe there is something to how lucky kakavasha seems to be when it only explodes into a cloud of colorful dust and bright lights. by the time he turns back, sparkle the fool is long gone. "damn it," he curses, lowering the punisher as reality sinks in. "damn it, damn it!"

kakavasha's touch is what snaps him out of it, a palm placed right over where he got hit earlier. he hisses at the sting, already reaching for one of the vials he keeps within the punisher. no more need to hide it if blondie's known all this time. "wait," he hears, and he pauses despite himself, unable to stop himself from indulging kakavasha's gentle request.

a warm sensation spreads from where kakavasha touches him, soothing his aches as it spreads through his nerves and veins, through to where blood has already started to clot now that he's no longer prolonging the healing by moving around. the pain was already negligible and nothing compared to what he's faced in the past, yet suddenly it's gone entirely. if he were to look, veritas is sure that he would be faced with the familiar sight of his flesh stitching itself back together until there's not even a single hint that he had been injured remaining. he doesn't look though, keeps his eyes trained away from the man next to him. "i- you-"

"we should meet back up with the girls," kakavasha says. he draws back after a few more seconds, his work apparently done. he picks something up from the ground; his sunglasses, veritas realizes, and it's only once he's got those back on that veritas can face him again.

grabbing onto his wrist as soon as he can get an opportunity to, veritas takes a few seconds to wait for words to start working for him again before speaking. "what the fuck did you just do?"

"oh, that? that's nothing! think of it as just a token of my appreciation, mkay?"

however fast kakavasha can run is not going to help him run away from this. "that's- you know that's not what i wanted to hear, blondie. you just healed me with nothing but a single touch. the only thing i know of that can do anything like that is the healing serum that asshole has been able to cook up for people like me. even someone like you could understand how suspicious that is, and i know i've got no leg to stand on for this, but you-"

"veritas." kakavasha doesn't want to leave him any room to disagree with him on this. "i said, we should meet up with the girls."

"they're safe, they can wait- wait." pieces click into place within his thoughts. they're still hasty and disorganized, but they show him the steps to take through the right method. "heal yourself first, you damn gambler."

"who, me? i'm not hurt, veritas!" he snatches his arm away the moment that veritas makes a move to yank his sleeve up, as if the two of them can't see the blood staining the outside of his jacket anyways.

it's a reaction he had been expecting. "you infuriate me, do you know that? i was going to ask you what you are, considering your little special ability, but i already know the most important answer to that. you're a martyr, and you won't heal yourself even though you can."

"it's just not effective on myself?" kakavasha tries to counter.

"you and i both know that isn't true, but if that's the way you want to play this, fine. let's go back to the girls, and i'll make sure that jelena guilts you into letting me bandage you up properly."

a faux gasp. he's brought them back to more familiar territory. playful sounding bickering that still holds its edge, conceding to his wants while using them against him. half casual conversation, half the strategy of a hostage negotiation. "you wouldn't dare!" kakavasha exaggerates. "i'm her favorite, you know."

he grabs ahold of the unsaid conversation. "no, you're eve's favorite. jelena likes me more than you, she says that i'm more reasonable." in bickering about the two of them, it's what goes unsaid that means the most. they can talk like this because nothing is going to change between the four of them. kakavasha isn't going to tell them anything, for better or for worse. "listen, gambler-"

"no need to say anything, veritas." his eyes don't look as odd when they're accompanied by a genuine smile. "we've all got our secrets, right?"

he looks away first, hauling the punisher back over his shoulder and letting the weight dig in uncomfortably against his back. "yes" he whispers, knowing kakavasha would still hear him, "yes we do."

[the-marron]

BBC Merlin aus

I realised that one of the best aus I’ve read were for Merlin and well, why shouldn’t I share?

Fundamental Imperfection  by Starlingthefool 

In which an argument about Dickens leads to a Twitter scandal, broken bones, midnight conversations, and transatlantic longing.

(Or, an AU with Arthur and Merlin as moderately famous authors.)

Writers!au that I adore both for the Dickens slander and for the fact that half of the romance here is epistolary, I am a fan.

  But It's a Good Refrain  by lady_ragnell     

Arthur doesn't care much about the popular radio program Dragon's Lonely Hearts until his ex-girlfriend calls in to slag him off and get advice. When he calls in and has an on-air argument with the host, it starts off more than he expected, including meddling friends, overinvolved fans, and maybe love.

Kudos for Arthur slander and overall lightness of the story - it’s so fun that I re-read it whenever I need a pick-me-up

The Future Soon by lady_ragnell   

Arthur sees a vision of himself and Merlin married and happy, but they can barely stand each other. They both start doing everything they can to avoid it happening.         

I really like the concept and the execution is just so good!     

We Can Burn Brighter  by ingberry  

When Arthur agrees to meet Gwen's new boyfriend Lance and his group of friends he never expected it to include Merlin. It's been nine years since they broke up, but the memories are still raw. Pretending that they don't know each other seems like the best idea, until it's not                

Very cool story about people growing up to be together, also a very nicely done modern au set-up.

Every Story is a Love Story  by  lady_ragnell                

Camelot Publishing publishes romance novels, and when Arthur founds a new imprint of gay romance and invites his best friend and pet writer Merlin to write for it, it's a bit too easy to miss the fact that apparently he's living in one.  

This is fun because even though it’s about people writing porn it’s surprisingly porn-free and very fun about it, poking fun at some harlequin tropes. Sugestive themes warning, I guess?             

[rabidlittlestrawberry]

The Navigation thing..

hi hey hello thought I should do one. don't know what to put here but here are some things:

I co-host a podcast with Soph and Arik about marauders fanfic called Into The Fic of It! Listen to it here!

Fics:(Ao3: rabidlittlestrawberry)

Completed:

Let's Play a Love Game: Two part, Jegulus fluff with background relationships. Regulus is sick of his friends not admitting they like each other, so he plans a drinking game with the Slytherins and Gryffindors, thinking he'll be safe from any accidental confessions. It doesn't quite go to plan. Or, they all play a risky drinking game with love potions, firewhisky and veritaserum. Predictably, it's chaos.

Bigger Than the Whole Sky: Jegulus one shot for midnights colab. Past Jegulus canon compliant ish - takes place after Regulus' death and is James and Sirius dealing with what he left behind.

Sweet Nothing: For midnights colab - one shot based in canon in the war - Jily, Dorlene, wolfstar, past Jegulus. It's soft and sweet and sad.

WIPs:

Suburban Legends - Regulus and Lily besties. Jegulus Marylily some Jily. -- Lily and Regulus both leave their small home-town to go to art school and end up best friends. Five years later, they move back home together, and try to figure out how these new versions of themselves fit back into their old lives.

I'll Know it's you: Long Jegulus fic - immortal black brothers in a medieval fantasy world with reincarnated James.

Metamour: Polyamory band au - Jegulus, Jily, Marylily, background wolfstar

OKAY THAT IS ALL MY TIKTOK IS BERRYLOU_ BUT I DO NOT POST MUCH

[bjorkshire-pudding]

My name is Valerie, like the Steve Winwood song. Please consider taking the time to read this post before interacting or following.

Leave a message on my Christmas Tree!

Note: Real life has been kicking my ass lately, so this blog and my writing sideblog, The Open Door, are both on semi-hiatus/queue.

🔷39 years old 🔷She/Her 🔷Black 🔷Multi-fandom writer

Selfship Art

This art of Grimmjow and me was done by the lovely and talented annypuff (please go check out her other art!).

This art of Suguru and me was done by the lovely and talented @starrnai - please go check out the other selfship art Nai has done!

My goal is to keep my tumblr experience as enjoyable and anxiety-free as possible. To that end, I have found that it is sometimes better for me personally to follow tags instead of specific blogs - so, if you decide to follow and find that I have not followed back, please don't take it personally!

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Current work in progress: Magnolia (a JJK Vampire AU - Geto Suguru x Geto Satoru x Original Female Character)

I write for a few different fandoms, including Bleach, Attack on Titan, and the Cybird Ikemen games (though I am largely moving away from writing for otome). My works will always be posted to my AO3, even if they are not posted in full to Tumblr.

My writing sideblog is called The Open Door, and there is where you can find some of my recent fics, both completed and in-progress. Fics will be added to the catalogue there as I organize.

I tend to write long fics with multiple chapters. I also tend to write my fics with Black MCs/OCs. Many of the things I write for my OCs are based on my personal experience. I also write both canon and non-canon pairings and focus mainly on AU writings. Some of my work is NSFW, and it will always be clearly marked as such. If you're a minor, I ask that you not interact - it keeps you safe and me comfortable.

My KoFi

🔷Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan 🔷Bleach 🔷Ikemen Vampire 🔷Ikemen Prince 🔷Ikemen Sengoku 🔷Ikemen Revolution 🔷Ouran High School Host Club 🔷Haikyuu! 🔷Shinya Shokudo | Midnight Diner 🔷Tonari no Kaibutsu-Kun 🔷Pacific Rim

Negativity and hate of any kind are not welcome here; if you decide to interact, please be kind. 😌 Thank you for stopping by!

[en-whims]

𝄞 NEW YEAR'S KISS | PARK SUNGHOON

[scan creds to ado2re]

the third instalment from the "Narratives from the Walkman: a 90's love collective" series

genres: bff au; fluff; slight pining | wc: almost 2k | warnings: swearing; mentions of words synonymous to 'fubu'

tagging: @yenqa @yjjungwon

[ 👤 ] SIDE A ; BOY 3 ㅡ PARK SUNGHOON

°❝ time it takes to break my heart

just tell me how we could make it out

and look this way we've come so far

i wish i could've seen the stars align

oh it was never gonna happen any other time

and everything was easy when I didn't know you

you don't know what you got until it's gone into the blue ❞ °

[ 🎧 ] SIDE B ; TRACK 3 ㅡ time by colouring

“Why don’t you chew your food instead of inhaling it?” a familiar voice suddenly appeared from behind you. Despite the jumbled noises from the huge speakers at every corner, his low-pitched voice is something you could never let go unnoticed.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him in surprise while putting down the blueberry muffin back on the plate. You were busy fumbling with the food on the table trying to figure out what you wanted to eat.

It was New Year’s Eve after all, and the list of food choices was pretty long considering your friend hosted a party in her apartment to welcome another year.

“I’m friends with your friends too in case you forgot.” He said as a matter of factly as he took a gulp from his red plastic cup.

“I thought you moved away to Korea?”

“It’s the holidays, Y/n. I couldn’t just not visit the place I have so many memories with.” You muttered an ‘oh’ and excused yourself to be back with your friends in the living room. As awkward as it was, you shrugged it off thinking you weren’t even supposed to talk to him in the first place.

Sunghoon is one of your best friends, or at least he was. You met him after Ni-ki left you for another state, that was in the summer right before college started, and a year before you broke the heart of your university’s librarian. It wasn’t all that bad with Sunghoon. In fact, your friendship was so great, you both even managed to dodge the romantic feelings that sprung about during the summer.

He’s a man of his word and when he said he wouldn’t cross the line, he proved it. But the tension can’t be denied. An instance or two, you would send electric shivers down his spine just by the mere touch of his skin.

That was how smitten he was with you.

But just like the others, he moved oceans away. He was an aspiring figure skater for nine years now and he decided to represent his hometown for last year’s Olympics. But just because you’re so used to your friends leaving doesn’t mean Sunghoon’s departure didn’t hurt at all. It tortured you.

And now that he’s back in town, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit pissed by his uncalled appearance. He didn’t even bother to call you after he left.

No calls or even messages since then.

Sunghoon noticed the wall you built between him and you. It had always been like that ever since you two had a heated argument two nights before he left for Korea.

But tonight, he took note of the fact that you answered his sarcasm and even asked him simple questions. Although the exchange was pretty brief and dull, he took it as an opportunity to rekindle the once-lost connection.

When the clock showed a 2-minute gap ‘til midnight, the crowd started to cramp up in the living room; you wanted to dissolve yourself from the frame right away. Despite the tight space and the faces of the people you couldn’t make up, the familiar face of an old friend and current foe twinkled five steps away from you.

With a red plastic cup in his hand and the other in his pocket, he flashed you his signature warm and dimpled smile. His cheeks rose and his eyes narrowed.

You thought to yourself, maybe you just hated the fact that he was away and didn’t even bother to slide in a simple hey in your inbox. And that you just missed him so much that it made you furious and frustrated at the only person who could take those feelings away at the moment.

“Would it bother you if I close this small distance?” You gave him a light shrug and he immediately walked towards you making it only a hand span away from each other.

He took out his hand from his pocket and held your pinky as he slowly leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I miss you... and I’m sorry.”

That’s what it all took for your strong walls to crumble down entirely. You wanted to say something but the grandfather’s clock signaled the stroke of midnight and yells of greetings engulfed the entire room.

The crowd started to give each other hugs but most of them were kissing, leaving you and Sunghoon baffled by the tension in the midst of it all.

When he saw you looking at him with a what-to-do face, he impulsively threw back his red cup, smirked, and smashed his lips against yours. Yolo, he thought.

A quick and fleeting moment, you thought to yourself. But Sunghoon wasn’t the type to give you that. Much to your surprise, his hand climbed up to your back while the other was at your nape as he tilted his head to the side to feel you even more.

Your thoughts swirled as your body felt hot with the sudden writhing. He was quick to let go when he heard some of the crowd moving out to proceed to the pool area.

“Damn, didn’t know you two could make out.” Jay, one of your classmates, muttered under his cup while leaning against the arched frame that resulted in him earning an icy glare from you. Sunghoon rubbed the back of his head as the consequence of his bravery started to fill him up. You could only look at the floor in utter embarrassment.

Jay shrugged his hands and winked at you before joining the others outside. “Have fun lovebirds!”

You two only stared at each other for mere seconds before bursting out in a fit of laughter with the sudden realization of what happened. After a while of it, you smiled at him and closed the distance with a tight hug. He felt the weight of how much you missed him as he hugged you back.

But deep down in both of your thoughts, a tingling feeling that was once buried started to spring up again.

With the inevitable that happened a few moments ago, you think to yourselves, maybe the kiss wasn’t just a new year’s gesture after all. Or maybe, it was just the kick from the alcohol that filled both of your systems. Either way, Sunghoon promised to never cross the faint line, and he planned to stick to it for as long as your friendship goes.

“Why didn’t you call, silly?”

“Would you have answered? With the fight that broke between us that night, would you have picked up your phone and slid your finger across the screen? I doubt.”

“You could’ve tried. There’s no harm in doing so.”

“You know damn well I’m not a risk-taker, Y/n. I promised not to answer my feelings for you for a reason. Besides, it’s not like our friendship ended. We just gave each other some needed space.” You brought your head to the floor and Sunghoon wondered why you couldn’t spare him a long glance.

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Y/n?”

“Yes. Tons to be exact. I just don’t know where to start.” He engulfed you in a tight hug as you stained his cardigan with your tears. From screwing with Sunoo to another classmate of yours, you feared Sunghoon’s judgment would cause hurdles in your friendship.

That other classmate in question has always been there since day one in college. Spilling it to Sunghoon might end the night in a brawl as he was present at the party, and knowing Sunghoon, he wouldn’t stop until he lifted a finger and gave that boy a taste of his own medicine.

But then again, it wasn’t entirely their fault since you chose to be in that situation. Sunghoon might just give you the lecture of your life.

“Well, I’m here now. Tell me everything.” Sunghoon looked at you with concern clearly glistening in his eyes. Your shaking gradually came to a halt as he rubbed circles on your back, his light touches making you want to crash against his chest once more.

“I fucked up. I- I don’t know, Sunghoon. I just… I just didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.” You burst into tears again as your voice became shakier with every utterance.

“Hey, hey. Instead of apologizing for whatever reasons I don’t know, why don’t you tell me what it is, yeah? Don’t be too hard on yourself, we all suck.”

“Gee, thanks, Hoon.”

“What did you do this time?”

“I’m in a very stupid situation because I inflicted emotional damage to someone whose only intention was to love me genuinely. I’m stupid, fuck, I’m so stupid!”

“Hey, easy! What do you mean by inflicted emotional damage to someone? Can you put that in the most basic, kindergarten language that your friend can decipher easily? Help me out here, babe.”

“I toyed around with the university’s librarian and now I’m buck fuddies with someone! Shit-”

“What the?! Y/n… no- please don’t tell me it’s…” You reluctantly nod your head with the most pitiful face you could ever make, and you swore you almost saw Sunghoon’s urge to aggressively punch the wall.

“You decided to cope by being what- nap buddies, pillow pals, or whatever you call it with the school’s fucking casanova because you gave Kim Sunoo the blues? Y/n, you may have lost me and Ni-ki in the middle of time but I can’t believe you’d lose your wits along with it!”

“I didn’t know what to do, okay?”

“Prick just winked at you when we were having a moment! Dammit, I could’ve punched that smile off his face right there and then.”

“It’s not his fault, Hoon. I’m stupid, okay? But we’re here now and it’s already happening so…”

“So what? How long has this been going on? When do you plan to end this?”

“Hoon, Jay has been there for me… I mean he’s consistently there for me, and I’m not just talking about screwing with each other. I’m talking about him being a good friend at the same time.”

“Well, I’m sorry that Ni-ki and I are your absentee buddies. God, Y/n you’re unbelievableㅡ”

“Oh, I’m sorry too, but hey, I wasn’t even blaming your absences! You just got back and now you’re acting like this all of a sudden, who’s a prick now? Need I remind you, your ass never hit me up when you were gone for a solid two years!”

Sunghoon ran his hand through his hair while exhaling an exasperated sigh. “I’m just concerned, okay? Jay is not the guy to fool around with.”

“But he’s exactly a guy for fooling around with, Hoon. He’s not a playboy for no reason.”

You slowly walked towards your things on the couch and started putting them in your bag. “Where are you going?” he asked, trailing behind you.

“Home. Thanks for the new year’s kiss. Although it was good, you kinda ruined the whole moment when I was actually starting to feel comfier with you again. Have fun with your stay. I’m sure someone out here can fill you in on some other hot gossip in town.”

Sunghoon watched your figure slowly fading from the scene. He wanted to chase you and spend more time; after all, you were one of the reasons he visited the town in the first place. But it would only do no good to you both after he hurt you with his words.

It took him a long while to process what happened in his absence. Rage was something he expected to come out from him, and you did too.

But things happened so fast and unexpectedly, his presence was too. You were overwhelmed, and spending the remaining hours in the comfort of your room sounded better than sticking around with his obnoxious ego.

You could only look forward to another year in college without him.ㅡ

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© EN-WHIMS, 2023. all rights reserved.

[karimwillia]

Untitled

*AU Comic Earth. Riri is actually out of school by 20 so 21 is a major birthday for her. She is head of Stark Industries having moved the headquarters to Chicago. Shuri holds the mantle of Black Panther and serves as co sovereign. Queen Romanda is alive but in a coma even with their country’s technology has yet to be broken. M’Baku and Shuri were installed as co rulers of Wakanda soon after. He handles most of the domestic conflict, while Shuri handles all international conflict.

Warnings: Suggestive

“Panther the itinerary for your excursion to Las Vegas Nevada is as follows. One Encore Two Bedroom Apartment and Three Encore Panoramic View hotel rooms at Wynn Las Vegas confirmed, Three Delta Airlines First Class flight tickets confirmed, Luxury Private Jet air travel via Fly XO confirmed, all restaurant reservations and entertainment tickets are available to you with 4 hours notice. Is there anything more Panther?” “Please call Princess Robin on speaker.”

Shuri and Riri have grown so close in the past few years since meeting. The spunky 19 year old bad ass went home and completed her degree at MIT in less than 18 months after the Telokan conflict. She says it was because she was bored. Shuri is convinced she did it so she could be Ironma… IronHeart full time. Riri blames Shuri because she is the one who made her an associate researcher at the Wakandan Outreach Center in Cambridge so she had the means to do more. There she secretly built a new suit and did a whole host of other research that was way more exciting then college. Shuri even consulted on the creation of a synthetic metal with similar properties to Vibranium to make the suit from. As a matter of fact Shuri consulted so heavily on the project at one point she was in Cambridge every weekend. This was despite her becoming Queen. Shuri had all that free time because she is co ruler with M’Baku.

Once completed Riri moved home to Chicago and started helping to combat local crime in her suit. She is also called out to help the Black Panther frequently in Wakanda. Pepper Pots of Stark Industries noticed and hired Riri on the spot to run the Engineering and Design departments at Stark Tech. Shuri’s gift to Riri on the accomplishment was an apartment building which holds a beautiful condo. Top of line laboratory and workshop plus area for her work as Ironheart. Her generosity is unmatched sometimes. To thank her Riri is always so affectionate. When they are together they hold hands, cuddle, and hug A LOT. They have pet names and flirt constantly but maintain they are ONLY friends.

“Hey Kitten what are you doing Baby?” Riri’s voice is rich and vibrant on the phone. “Nkosazana! What did I tell you about that name?” “I may have heard you say you don’t like it. But I do and you let me do anything I want.” Shuri shakes her head. The playful, almost whiny tone is so sexy to her. “Mamela kum Entle. Just because I allow you to do what you want. I just ask one thing, don’t call me Kitten.” Riri huffs into the phone. “Fine, no more Kitten. Only because you spoke to me in Xhosa and you know how I get when you do that Daddy.” Shuri huffs in return with a small chuckle.

“One can only imagine. But I did not call to have phone sex today. I want to confirm you have cleared your schedule. You will not take any meetings or calls from work during your Birthday.” Riri bites her lip as she thumbs through some paperwork. “Yes I have two full weeks clear. Finally turning 21. I hope that means we can stop these games.”

“I am not playing any games, Nkosazana. You are my wife, you know that.” Riri and Shuri agreed long ago that their interest in each other is mutual. They just find it complicated to solidify a status so they don’t. Despite Riri wanting to.

“Panther Midnight Angel Okoye is approaching.” Shuri pays no attention to Griot’s announcement. So the former Dora stands back realizing she is not noticed. “I am your wife now huh? As much as I want that. I need you to do other things for me first before I marry you.” “When the time is right I will do anything you want me to do.”

Okoye can’t stand anymore of the sexual tension and clears her throat. “Panther. What might those things be?” Riri hears the comment and changes her tone. “Oooh Baby I have to finalize this design before it goes off to prototype. Call me later. Love You. Bye Okoye.”

Riri hangs up so quickly Shuri cannot comment. “I-'' Okoye holds up her hand and shakes her head. “No Usisi omncinci you and her need to…figure…that…out. You have her waiting on you for what reason?” Shuri places her face in her hands. “No reason other than fear.” “Fear of what Shuri? Didn’t she tell you that when you are ready she is yours?” Shuri speaks from her hands. “Yes, that is what I was told. I just don’t know if I can handle the stress.” Okoye is frustrated but is tender. “That is an excuse, Shuri. You are keeping her at arm's length like you have been doing everyone.”

After losing T’Challa and Baba, Shuri is very closed off, has mood swings and suffers nightmares from time to time. This makes her stress every interaction she has keeping people at a distance. Queen Mother being in this catatonic state since Namor’s attack adds to her anxiety. Everyone has begged her to seek some help to unpack the grief and trauma. She says she is fine but obviously not. Riri is being patient with her which she is grateful for but…how long is Riri supposed to wait?

“Shuri?” Okoye’s tone softens more because she wants to get the message through. Everyone sees how happy she is with Riri but the keeping this last wall up is a direct result of her grief process. Shuri raises her head to look into Okoye’s eyes. “Do you love her?” Tears well in Shuri’s eyes. “I am in love with her.” Okoye wipes her tears, rubbing her back. “We know she feels the same. Why make her suffer watching you muddle in this process. When you know you can get help and let her in.”

“Can I sight stubbornness?” Okoye shakes her head no and smiles. “No you cannot. Do your best to work and heal to be with her or leave her alone, Shuri.”

The ultimatum was deafening and was what the Panther needed to hear.

————————————————————————————

“Miss Williams, your 10am is here.” Riri’s assistant Asia announces over the intercom. Riri looks confused and she presses the button. “Please allow me 15 minutes to prepare, Asia.” Riri was not expecting a 10am so she was scrambling plus talking with Shuri is always something she needs to recuperate from. The huge hanging issue of the undefined relationship thing is a stab to the gut every time. The dynamic is not even friends with benefits. Because that would require something more physical than cuddling, and hand holding. The flirting is always spicy but it’s getting so hard to ignore the tension.

Riri is being very very patient with Shuri because she’s IN LOVE with this woman. Like everything about Shuri she loves. Even the fact that she’s struggling because it shows she’s human. Riri is down bad bad. Once she has a moment she cuts off her Kimoyo beads, Riri intercoms for whoever is waiting for her to come in. She will fake it til she makes it. Asia says ok and moments later two beautiful women storm Riri’s office. It’s Imani and Nia, her college sorority sisters.

“Bitch! Why you have us waiting?” Imani is the outspoken and politically incorrect friend. “Oooh see no not in my office.” Riri quips back grinning from ear to ear. “Imani, now you heard Asia say she was on a call.” Nia walks in with a calmer tone. She is the level headed friend in the group. “Nia hush she wasn’t on the phone with no body but that fine ass African she fucking.”

Riri’s face drops. Asia is another one of their sorority sisters so she is the root of them knowing this information. Nia laughs and looks at Ri’s face. “Ooop she is fine though. I didn’t know the relationship had gotten that far Ri. Good Job.” Imani twists her lips. “How do you think we going to Vegas? Queen Bae got the tab, ALL expenses paid.” Riri is fed up and hits the intercom. “Asia, come in here please.” Asia rushes into the office. “Yes.” “Why did you just tell them all my business?” Asia is caught off guard. “Because Sister you and the Queen are cute and it’s tea everyday with y’all. Like how y’all not actually fucking. But she spoils you out of this world.”

All the girls stare at Ri. She is so damn happy she sound proofed this room because the yelling that is about to come from the girls is going to be outrageous. “BITCH! How did you pull that off!” “I need a Sugar Daddy like that.” “You are rich and have a Queen taking care of you. Oooh Bitch” all the yelling runs together.

“Y’all stop! It’s not like that ok I actually love her and this shit is actually getting to me.” All of her friends pause and look to see Ri on the verge of tears. “Rihanna Girl, calm down and come here.” Nia opens her arms and hugs Ri. “Talk to us. Baby what’s going on.” Riri fills them in on everything and it is juicy all the girls understand the problem. “So hold up the only reason y’all not together together is because of her?” Imani sips her wine that they have now poured. Riri is the last to turn 21 but being CEO of a company as big as Stark Tech people overlook that she's not 21.

“Yes and I stress every time I talk to her because y’all she’s called me her wife today. It’s like the signals are so all over the place.” Riri is curled up on her couch as Nia holds her Asia has held all calls and put Riri out of the office for the day. “Girl, you need answers or you have to let her go.” Imani is blunt but it’s true. “Mani!” Asia chimes in. “I think they can work it out, you don’t see our girl like I do with Shuri. That woman is perfect for her. Like her soft girl era is on 1000.” Imani frowns. “Ok that’s cool and all but it’s bullshit if the girl can’t commit. What is Ri supposed to do? Be in an odd ass friend zone for 10 years. No Ma’am. Give her an ultimatum.”

Riri rubs her face. Imani is right but so is Asia. Nia is rubbing her back and speaks. “What do you want Riri? We can talk all day but if you can’t articulate what it is you want then this is for nothing.” Riri is sure of what she wants so with no hesitation. “I want her and I mean all of her.”

————————————————————————————

It’s about 9 and Riri receives a call on her Kimoyo beads. It's a video call this time so she projects it on her screen at home. All the girls are there in their PJs. “My Love, I need to know something…” “Shuri, you're on speaker.” Riri cuts the Panther short before she can say anything over the top. Shuri was not facing the screen as she was working on a project. Heeding the warning, Shuri greets all of Riri’s friends by name and changes her tone. Shuri is looking good as hell to Riri right now. In a fitted black sleeveless and jogger set.

“Hello Imani, Nia, and Asia, how are you all?” “Hello Panther.” They say in unison. All the girls are kind of side-eyeing her. “We good Queen Panther. What you need to know.” Imani says a touch harshly. “I hope it’s a ring size for our girl.” The hint is not very subtle. Shuri takes it because she deserves all heat plus some.

After the talk with Okoye, Shuri went to her Mother’s suite. As she sat with her Mother she took time to think and it was the revelation she needed. Suppose T’Challa had not committed to Nakia or moreover had Baba kept Mother at a distance. She would not even exist. So it’s time to suck it up and stop being scared to let Riri in. She reached out to a world class mental health professional Dr. Amira Diallo and she will be in therapy to start her journey to heal. Rihanna is what she wants so no more stalling.

“Actually I wanted to know what she is wearing tomorrow. Because I already know her ring size is 16.5mm she’s a slightly wide 6.” Imani was hushed. Shuri may deserve everything but that does not mean she will pass up being just a bit sassy. Riri’s friends respect her for it. “You better know your Wife.” She deserves that too. Nia pinches Imani. “Oouch! Bitch.” Shuri shuts up and lets Riri answer. “Baby I’m wearing my Chanel jogging suit. Why?” “Wanted to see if we are thinking alike.” Shuri is a horrible liar so Riri can tell something else is on her mind. “Tony.” “Wassup Kid?” Riri’s AI is Tony Stark with Griots mainframe it’s dope. “Transfer this call to my bedroom.” “Yooou got it.” With that Riri takes the call to her room so they can be alone.

“Baby you suck at lying. Like don’t you ever try and cheat on me. I will know in an instant.” Shuri snorts and looks at Ri. “I would never cheat. I am a loyal shitty Girlfriend/Fiancée.” Riri sits on her bed watching Shuri. “I like the sound of that. What else are you? Shuri Azari, daughter of Queen Mother Romanda, Queen of Wakanda.” Shuri stares at Riri over the camera. Why is she so beautiful? “I am loyal and ready.” Riri rolls her eyes knowing how this goes. “Ready for what?” Shuri punches some keys on her tablet and a calendar comes up. A date labeled first consultation with Dr. Diallo shows on the screen. “Shuri, are you seeing a therapist?” With softened faces the girls lock eyes. “Yes I need to get better, and I am ready for us to be more than friends.” Riri could not believe her ears. “You mean we are getting married tomorrow?” Riri pokes fun at Shuri who is blushing. “Maybe not tomorrow but on this trip we can. All jokes aside, I want us to be together Rihanna.” “I would love that.” They talk a little while longer before Riri almost dozed off. ————————————————————————————

“Baby get back to your friends. My transport leaves in about 2 hours. I will reach you by morning. I love you.” Riri pouts she is laying down now. “Mmmm don’t go Baby please. They are going to talk shit and I don’t want to hear it.” Shuri laughs. “Well let them. I kind of deserve the shit talk.” Ri chews her lip and shakes her head. “Could you stop right now. You have been hurting so I understand why you kept me at a distance. I love you so I will not allow you to be disrespected.” Shuri smiles hearing Riri defend her.

“Thank you Baby you have no idea how badly I want you right now. To kiss you, hold you, touch you, please you.” A devilish smirk spreads on Shuri’s face. “Ooh shit yea. I am going. I can’t do this right now.” A blush turns Ri a deep red color before she hangs up.

Leaving the room everyone is waiting for Riri. The woman of the hour. “Look at this one here. Mmm” Imani was the first to speak. “Don’t tell me you fell for some sweet talk.” She is sitting between Asia and Nia with a stoic look on her face. Imani is drunk so she is not holding back. “I hope you didn’t fall for anything unless she promised to fuck you.” Imani slurs her words.

“Relax Imani ok she showed me her therapist evaluation. Plus asked me to be her girlfriend!” Asia and Nia cheer out glad for Riri. “Omg yes! I knew the Queen had it in her.” Imani shakes her head and looks at them. They all proceed to stay up all night.

“Kid your Bae is leaving Wakanda.” Tony alerts Riri while they are watching Waiting to Exhale. “Thanks Tony. Text. Can’t wait to touch you.” Imani has sobered up and overhears the text. “Girl you're so damn gay it’s sick. How long until she’s here?”

“7 hours she’s on her Royal Talon. Leave me alone ok. I have been waiting for this.” Imani sits up from the big cuddle pile. “Yes and I am very happy for you. I know it may not seem like it, I just want you to be careful. You both need to take it slow.” Riri looks at her friend realizing that is the best bit of advice she has gotten so far. Imani is correct that no matter how long she’s waited Riri has got to take this relationship slow. That is the only way she will make Shuri comfortable to open up, and will be the only thing that reassures Riri things are going well. Considering that they know each other but there are still things she would be surprised about when it comes to Shuri. This makes sense.

Hours pass and it’s now about 11am and the Sisters are all passed out except Ri. She’s anticipating Shuri’s arrival any minute now. She got a text back about 20 mins ago “Can’t wait to be touched.” The drive to her condo from the private hanger is about 30 mins. She is freshening up in the mirror and she is thinking of the things she still does not know about Shuri. Like she knows the color she wears all the time is Black. But what is her actual favorite? Shuri is better at observation than she is. So Riri is aware that Shuri knows more of the little things about her then vice versa. Like what is her favorite candy or treat? All things she will be finding out.

@somethingcleaverandwhitty @mal-urameshi @shurixriri @shuriris-stuff @neptoons1998

[kingcunny]

Hi! What do you think about Viserys' drinking habits? I saw the "Aegon got alcooholic because of Viserys giving him wine when he was a toddler" discussion and now I'm wondering about how often Viserys got drunk, the show makes it seem it's not often since we only see him get drunk once and that he's way more controlled than Aegon who is a full explicit alcooholic and seemed to have a bigger problem with it. I wonder if Viserys got himself drunk on purpose when he wanted to get that dragon dream again since he drunkely tells Alicent in episode 3 he "chased that dream again" many times... He also seemed to speak more about his worries/vulnerabilities and failures way more.

ive talked about this a few times here and there, but i do think viserys was an alcoholic. as was jaehaerys. addiction can be hereditary and i think thats a big part of why aegon becomes an alcoholic as well.

viserys addiction is really tied into my chronically ill viserys hc, and that he “caught” his illness from balerion. the idea that dragons continue to grow forever but eventually they reach a point where they are so big they become incompatible with life, they get crushed under their own weight. when viserys bonded with balerion he almost “took” that pain from him so balerion could die in peace, but now viserys carries that pain. he develops a sort of magic autoimmune disease that mimics balerion being too big to live. (being crushed under his own weight=immune system attacking the host body)

alcohol is a fantastic painkiller. i think before viserys illness progressed to the point it was noticeable to the maesters, before he started being treated with milk of the poppy, he self medicated that pain away with alcohol. meaning he probably started regularly drinking around 16. the big difference between viserys and aegon is that viserys could hold his alcohol and was a happy drunk, he didnt really bother anyone and more or less still got his work done, so no one really cared that he ended most days stumbling drunk.

separate from my headcanons theres also the fact that in the book viserys was discovered dead by a servant bringing him wine during the hour of the bat, which is i think supposed to be around midnight? which sounds to me like he was drinking to help him sleep. and that he was doing this regularly enough that it was expected, that even when he didnt call for wine, it was still brought up. that sounds like alcoholism to me.

and i could DEFINITELY see viserys using alcohol (or other psychoactive drugs if they exist in westeros, which im sure they do) to try and force another vision. (the halfjokes i make about drug induced psychosis viserys. or modern au vis rotting out his brain with hallucinogens)

[quinloki]

I had a random midnight thought and I'm sorry to send it to you, but I have to send it to you.

What do you call a kinky One Piece sandwich shop?

Quin Knows

I'll see myself out now.

I feel like I'm missing the munch line on this one ~_^

Though now I feel like the Host Club AU needs a bakery shop across the street from the club called Bread and Batter, and the sign design is kind of saucy, so it reads like a euphemism but it's really just a cheeky design and the owner is Pudding. (She's there to spy on Katakuri, but she's told him as much already so it's a weird kind of double agent deal.)

apparently randomness is contagious in this ask 😇

[milkyeudaemonia]

✎ — MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT ; park seonghwa

synopsis. seonghwa debates leaving to focus on his work but something pulls him back. pairing. seonghwa x afab! reader genre. fluff content. idol! au, short, established relationship, slight angst if you squint, i promise it ends fluffy wc. 769 words, 4,183 characters

MILKY’S NOTES . . . inspired by ‘middle of the night’ by monsta x 🫶🏻 happy birthday seonghwa!

—

he stumbled slightly in the dark hallway, his shoulders weighed unevenly by the bags he’d packed. grumbling to himself, he placed them down, his eyes turning to his canvas shoes at the front door. they sat where they always did, beside your tired, worn out sneakers you refused to get rid of. so why was he debating leaving in the middle of the night?

seonghwa’s heart sank. he slowly slipped his back down the wall beside him, ending up firmly on the floor as he debated what he was even doing. seonghwa and yourself had been dating for almost four years this upcoming summer - you’d already got him talking about things you could do to celebrate it. so why was he debating leaving in the middle of the night?

he stared at the watch on his wrist, 11:49pm. he wanted to prioritise his work. even if he did leave, you knew who he was. everyone did, he was park seonghwa, he was a vocalist for ateez. he loved you to death. so why was he debating leaving in the middle of the night?

11:52pm. seonghwa rose to his feet, wandering aimlessly back to his shared bedroom with you. he knew you were there, his comfort. you cherished him, you listened to him. he always comforted his members, they called him the mom - yet who comforted seonghwa? it was always you.

he’d left the bedroom door ajar, as to not cause noise when he left. slowly, he pressed his fingertips to the door and nudged it open again so that he could see you, curled up amongst the sheets of the bed. you always looked so peaceful while you slept, it made seonghwa stay up until ungodly hours of the morning just so he could take it in, simply because he couldn’t wait for the morning to rise so he could see your face once more.

seonghwa found himself taking soft steps on plush carpet towards the bed, more specifically, your side of the bed. he imagined what you would say if you woke up right now, his bags at the door and his figure looming over you with only the distant hallway light to illuminate him. seonghwa’s brows knitted. was his work really more important than you? the moments he’d spent with you?

he admired the way your hair framed your face, some strands falling in front. he remembered your face every time you’d kissed in his car during high school, underneath the sunroof filtering through pale moonlight that kissed your skin. he loved those nights, he even adored them. seonghwa remembers how you’d close your eyes with every kiss. he could never close his eyes, he had to drink in every moment of you.

moments like crashing into motel beds with feverish lips and impatient hands, rapid and living in the moment. your phones blowing up on silent, nothing to disturb you. his cold fingers brush your warm, puffy cheek ever so gently as he drinks you in again. he remembers how your clique never liked him during school. you’d told him it was because he was popular. you were far from that and you stuck out like a sore thumb when you were anywhere near him.

your friends were regulars at the local cinema, the one that always hosted midnight showings of 80s horror films. the one that was on the route back from your dirty-secrets-in-the-dark motel. the first night you’d ended up in a motel, you’d hurriedly told him to take the next left just before the cinema - you’d claimed you knew a quicker way to your house. seonghwa knows it was because your friends knew his car like a palm reading.

you stirred in your sleep, legs shuffling under the covers at seonghwa’s touch as your eyelashes fluttered open, barely taking seonghwa in before he’d eloped you into his chest, his face buried into your unkept hair.

“hwa?” you whispered sleepily, your voice confused at what he was even doing fully dressed at 00:13am.

“shh,” seonghwa cracked, burying his fingers in your hair as if letting go meant he lost you forever, “you got me, you got me.”

he’d be a fool, he thought to himself, to even think about abandoning you like that. and what for? was it to focus on the music ateez was producing or was it to protect you from his fans and the media? seonghwa didn’t even know at the end of the day. all he knew was that he loved you more than his words could ever even utter and he wanted you to know that.

[bardic-inspo]

Okay so I also happen to know nothing about BG3, other than what several characters look like and sorta...general D&D knowledge? if that counts?

but "Blood in the Mortar" sounds veeeerrrryyyy interesting 😗

@krokaxe Thank you both! <3 <3 I think general D&D knowledge definitely counts!!

[Ask me about a fic on my WIP List]

This fic features an Vampire Ascendant Astarion (a powered up vampire lord is the short of it) with a vampire bride Tav. The Tav I'm using (Naomi, a bard) is the same main OC from my multichapter with her and Astarion, Midnight Chimes, but this fic is very much a standalone and a sort of "what if they both ended up evil" AU occurring post-game. It's just a smutty one-shot for now, but I might end up writing more of their "evil" versions at some point if I have enough fun with it.

There's a lot of different interpretations of Ascended Astarion out there, but some concepts I'm playing with in Blood in the Mortar are:

Tav has been made into his bride and not just his spawn. This is a concept a lot of folks have played with and is based heavily off this excerpt from what I think is an old monster manual talking about vampire bride/groom rituals.

In the rendition of this I'm playing with, a bride and a spawn is really similar. Astarion could compel Tav if he wanted to. But, they have a really intense/intimate mental/telepathic link and he's gonna take a buttload of psychic damage if he did anything to hurt or really upset her.

It also works as a sort of perpetual feedback loop. They feel each other's happiness and affection for the other as if it was their own (and other, less pleasant feelings, too). Who the emotion originally started with starts to get a little blurry. Their individual wellbeing is really tied up in the other's happiness. It's intense and probably toxic but for the most part, they're both happy about it. (As Wyll comments in-game, they are the "unholiest union")

I wanted to toy with the protective/possessive streak in Ascended Astarion, but also, some text I saw in an epilogue that I think was ultimately unused in the game. Something about him hosting grand masquerades at his palace while Tav bolts the doors behind the party guests.

So, some uppity nobleman (or maybe another true vampire, I haven't decided yet) starts talking shit about Tav at one of Astarion's masquerades. It's clearly an effort to get a rise out of him, or to poke at what this nobleman perceives as Astarion's only weakness (Tav). But instead of getting the desired result, Astarion takes the "have you met my wife?" angle:

“Do you know what they call her? Other than mine, of course?” “The hero of Baldur’s Gate." Astarion waves a manicured hand irritably, as if swatting away a stray fly. “One of them, true, but isn’t there another name that comes to mind?” The man swallows thickly. “The Siren of the Sword Coast.” "And yet here you are," Astarion sneers with a curled lip, "ready to dash yourself upon the rocks like a little wayward ship blown astray. I can hardly blame you." His eyes soften, just past the shoulder of the lordling's gaudy doublet. In the low flutter of candlelight, he spies the sheen of sapphires set amongst delicate feathers wrought from silver. He'd had the mask made for her, with the likeness of a swan in mind. Still, as pretty as it is, his favorite gleam is those eyes, set between the glittering finery. She still kept the kiss of violet in them, even in death. It mingles with the red in her irises, like a rich, deep wine. "She is captivating, isn’t she?," Astarion sighs, a faint smile grazing his lips. "My beautiful bride." At long last, it seems, lord what's-his-name has found the decency to shut up. Astarion draws a long draught from his goblet, drawing a dark glare over the sheen of sweat that's started on the other man's brow. “You see," Astarion drawls, as the vintage seeps sweetly down his throat, "my beloved, oh, she’s a monster too. She so does love the taste of blood in her mouth, now that she’s supped of mine.”

And then they do murder and steamy (if wildly impractical) sex together. I think there's a grand piano involved. 👀