#i hate dams i hate dams i hate dams i hate dams

[bunnyboilewd]

Touch starved, the gentlest touch is like a flood too great to properly process the emotions that come in like a dam at capacity. Touch starved, the very idea of it makes you sick with longing and sicker with rejection of hope for more. Touch starved, the way that the smallest graze of contact shoots through your core and you realize how desperate you truly are to have been deprived such a base need. Touch starved, overwhelmed with rejection at how sensitive you are that the first touch makes you loathe the way your skin screams under contact. Touch Starved, the craving way your body demands it and your emotions drag you under reeling from want and hating the want.

I can't handle this, it's too much, I need more, I need it to stop, I'll die if this stops, I don't deserve this, I should of always had this, I feel sick, MAKE THESE FEELING GO AWAY.

touch-starvation needs to be written with emphasis on the starving part. you are hungry to be touched. so hungry that even the very taste of it makes you nauseous. it has been long since anything has ever touched you, ever fed you - that your body has grown more used to that gnawing emptiness more than anything else. it's better for you to be held, to eat but it makes you sick to try. you know

[justawanderingfan]

So was anyone gonna tell me that California used to be covered in lush wetlands and large lakes until the 20th century when farmers diverted every river in California for their crops that didn’t suite the environment causing million+ year old lakes to dry up which is why California is now a desert or was i just supposed to find that out in class myself

[somewhereincairparavel]

i have ALWAYS promptly looked forward to jason grace's povs in the hoo books to the point where'd I'd flip the pages till I find the words "JASON" and would count the amount of povs he has in the whole book before I even finished reading, so I feel excited knowing that I'll get to his povs soon. there, I said it.

[midnightrebel1028]

The smut scenes is so dam hot 🥵 But I hate San's character in this is such an asshole

But still can't help but love him 🙈

ᴄᴀꜱᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴜᴄʜ

ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ/ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ ➠ ꜱᴀɴ

pairing: frat boy! san x fem! reader feat. yungi

genre: frat au, smut

summary: san and his boys are more than grateful when you help them with their newest ‘feature film.’

w.c: 3k

warnings: they’re making porn okay, nasty mean dom! san, subby aloof! reader, san knowingly takes advantage of reader’s romantic feelings for him…. (bro’s the king of douchebags), manipulation/corruption, brief implied mxm bc i love fruity frat boys <3, praise/false praise, name calling/degradation, major voyeurism/exhibitionism kink, mind break ig?, double penetration in one hole, oral (giving), brief hair pulling, throat-fucking, tit fucking, facial, rough sex, bulge kink, breeding kink, dacryphilia, gang bang !!, it’s all unprotected btw, multiple orgasms, creampies <33

a/n: this is so fucking insane you guys….like idk why frat aus have me in such a chokehold but here we are🧍🏻‍♀️also this is totally random (and essential) info but san’s signature frat party look would be a ‘don’t hate me it turns me on’ shirt and a backwards red cap hwjhw anyways happy reading~ and please lemme know if you liked it uwu

p.s: we’re at 6.5k followers HELLO???? that’s insane 🫣 thank you so very much!!!

song rec: i like the way you kiss me - artemas (✨ male manipulation: the song ✨)

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

“Smile for the camera, pretty girl,” San, the frat boy you’ve been in love with for ages, encouraged you from behind the lens of the camcorder he was holding, his smooth baritone voice like saccharine, artificial, yet sweet enough to keep you coming back for another taste. It was when you offered him a small, shy smile through the camera lense, despite the shamelessness of your current position, that he knew he had struck gold. 

San was filming one of the first of many future encounters you would be having on the expansive black leather couch inside their crowded frat den. You were stuffed to the absolute brim by two of his closest colleagues, Yunho and Mingi, who always refused to participate unless they were working together as a duo. 

“Stop looking at me like that, dude,” Mingi huffed up at Yunho from below the both of you, his shoulders and back routinely getting stuck to the couch with sweat. 

“Like what?” Yunho scoffed back, leaning further down onto your body to get closer to Mingi, essentially folding you in half, his hands closing around your ankles.

“Like you wanna kiss me. You’re gonna make me soft.” Mingi grimaced, pushing Yunho’s hands out of the way to hold onto your ankles instead, driving himself into you like a well oiled machine. He was throbbing nonstop, but there was absolutely no proof that it was because of his friend’s heavy cock rubbing along his inside the cunt they were sharing. 

You could feel Yunho’s breath hit your shoulder when he laughed. “Skill issue,” Yunho simply replied, delighted when Mingi bucked up into you even harder, encouraging him to do the same. 

Clearly, there was something vaguely homoerotic going on there, but it wasn’t San’s business, and he definitely had better things to focus on — you, his newest pupil. He watched you with dollar signs in his bright brown eyes and the taste of cheap vodka on his tongue, unable to keep himself from licking repeatedly at his chapped lips, especially now that the innocent classmate he had recently taken a liking to had no problem taking two cocks at once inside her puffy, used cunt, while he, his bros, and his trusty camcorder had a front row seat to her mutually beneficial destruction.  

“Look at you, so flexible…Are you sure you haven’t done this before, Y/N?” San teased, lowering the camera down until his sharp feline eyes were visible.

“N-no, I swear!” you squeaked out, the growing embarrassment you felt only spurring all of this newfound pleasure you were drunk on. “Just wanna, nnngh–be good for you…”

“Oh, that’s right. Silly me. You’re being a very good girl right now, baby, Don’t worry.” San couldn’t help but smile at the way you seemed to melt in front of him. It was just too easy. He glanced down at the camera, zooming in and capturing the moment his friends filled you up with their hot loads, the bliss evident on your fucked-out face. “That’s it, baby. Are you happy you stuck around here with us instead of going back to your dorm to do homework? Taking cock is much more fun, isn’t it, beautiful?” 

“So much more fun,” you sighed out, your pupils blown out just from looking at his devastatingly handsome face. It was then that you pouted. You were only here because you were in love with San, and yet, it wasn’t even his dick inside you. It wasn’t fair. “But, I’d have even more fun with you, Sannie~” 

“Is that so…?” San offered a brief shit-eating smirk to one of his boys nearby, reaching down to grab at himself through his sweatpants, like he was weighing it. “It’s right here, baby. Why don’t you show us what that pretty mouth can do?” 

Both Mingi and Yunho slowed down their thrusts, but didn’t completely pull out, choosing to leisurely fuck their cum back into you, as they fought to catch their breath.

“What a loser, cumming first like that,” Mingi insulted Yunho, licking at the saliva left on his lips. 

“Your mom doesn’t have a problem with it,” Yunho chided back, reaching down past your body to smack his hand into the side of Mingi’s ass. 

“Goddamn it, you guys, I’m gonna have to edit that gay shit out.” San brought a hand up to scratch at his head in frustration. “You know what, both of you, get out of my shot and sword fight somewhere else. I’m not doing this right now,” San grumbled, shooing the two panting men away from the couch they had just made a mess on. 

“Bro acts like we don’t know about his late night tutoring sessions with Wooyoung,” Yunho whispered to Mingi, trying to stifle his laughter. 

Mingi almost choked on his breath. “Don’t forget, Yeosang. San doesn’t even take physics anymore, either. Yet, he still visits that nerd every Friday like clockwork.” 

“Dude, aren’t they roommates?” Yunho cupped his hand around the side of his mouth, still using a hushed tone, “Do you think they run a train on–”

“Hey! Don’t make me haze the two of you again just for fun…” San warned from the center of the room, glaring daggers at the two men who went quiet almost immediately. His annoyance abruptly melted away once you gingerly reached up to pull his sweatpants down until the frat emblem that was stitched into the thigh pocket was no longer visible. It was when San smacked his heavy length down onto your face, that you let out a pornstar worthy moan. Cha-ching. “Oh, you like that? Hm? Want my cock?”   

“Mm-hmm…” San’s cock slapped down onto your face a second time. You quickly squeezed your thighs together to keep yourself from cumming right then and there, biting back a moan all the while. You wondered if it was obvious how truly desperate you were for the man standing above. Fuck it. You were already here, so you might as well get what you came for. “Please, give it to me, Sannie, f-fuck my mouth.” 

San could not believe his luck. His loyal fanbase would absolutely have a field day with this as soon as he uploaded it. He could already see the cash flowing in, and it made him rock hard. He sighed happily to himself, running his fingers through your hair, carefully tucking a few strands behind your ear. “It’s really true what they say…the shy ones are always the most slutty.”  

*“I’m not a slut, I just–” you cut yourself off, not wanting to confess to San right before you were about to suck him off in front of his fraternity and whichever degenerate that would be watching it back later on. You pouted again, looking up at him with wide, sparkly eyes. “I want to be useful to you, like a doll~”  

“Did you hear that, everyone? Y/N here is a real life doll. Let’s treat her as such,” San reminded his friends and housemates who couldn’t help but hover around the couch, a few of them sharing knowing smiles with one another. 

Your heart began to thump away inside your chest, unable to believe that your long-time crush was giving you so much of his attention and affection. It was like a dream come true. As soon as your lips parted to take in a shaky breath, San tightened his grip around your hair, yanking you forward and stuffing your mouth full of cock. “Mmnnf…!” 

Clutching the camera with one hand and the makeshift ponytail he created near the back of your head, San began thrusting sloppily into your open mouth, groaning at the slick sensation of your throat routinely closing around his moving cockhead. “Come on, doll, let me in, yeah? So Sannie can fuck your throat raw.” 

San wasn’t lying. With each wet, rough thrust, he got closer and closer to doing what he promised you. “Mmmn…nnn…” You couldn’t tell if the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes were the result of San’s dizzying performance or the burning arousal you felt stirring inside your core simply from being watched by a room full of men you didn’t know. 

“Aww, crying already, princess? I’ll give you something to really cry about when I’m breeding that pretty cunt of yours,” San chuckled darkly, his strong hips snapping relentlessly, his pace only beginning to falter once he saw escaping drool mixed with his pre-cum dripping down past your chin and down in between your tits. You were becoming a mess. It was going to make the frat leader bust any second. The borderline obsessive look you had inside your teary eyes didn’t help either. “Fuck, oh god– Somebody take the goddamn camera!” 

The youngest of the group fumbled to grab the camera, using his jacket sleeve to rub the fingerprints off of the lens, before lifting it up, capturing the exact moment San pulled out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and slid his cock along in between your glistening tits. 

San turned to face the camera for a second, dimples flashing, squishing your tits in between his thick fingers as he fucked them. “See, you guys? This is how you use a doll to her maximum potential,” he explained as though he were a professor on campus. “Just look at her face. She loves it.” 

Instead of trying to focus on the camera, you gazed directly up at him, your cheeks warm to the touch, still love-struck, even when San’s load landed all over your face. You simply licked away what had landed on your lips, sucking the rest off the frat leader’s fingers once he so lovingly fed it to you. 

San nodded his head in approval, patting yours in an effort to reward you for your hard work. “That’s a good girl…” He tilted his head to the side. “Let’s see what else our pretty doll can do. Sound good?” 

“Really good,” you chimed, licking at your swollen lips, savoring San’s essence. 

Wedding bells were ringing in the distance. You would do anything for San, and that meant letting him treat you like a sex doll and fuck you in any position he saw fit for the next hour. By the time your knees gave out from cumming for the nth time, San had you in a full nelson in the middle of the couch, positioned behind you with his arms locked around your upper half, making sure your used, feverish body was on complete display. 

“Sannie…gonna…cum…again,” you breathed out in between a few heavy moans, your head feeling so heavy that you just let it hang for a second. 

San repositioned himself so that he could clutch your chin, tilting it upwards. His free hand snaked around your waist, laying his palm flat on your tummy, suddenly driving his cock up into you so hard, you couldn’t even speak if you wanted to. “Hey, be a good slut and let them see what you look like when you’re cumming your brains out.” 

You simply looked up at the blurry camera past your teary lashes, letting out a choked gasp once you barreled over the edge of ecstasy. You didn’t have a chance to recover from the overwhelming pleasure, especially not when San pressed his hand down firmly onto the bulge his cock was routinely making inside your stomach. “P-please..! Sannie..!” 

You want another load? Fuck, baby.” Groaning, San took a second to lick one of the tears that was rolling along your cheek before it dropped, his hips slamming against yours so quick, you were already developing bruises, ones that would accompany the bright red love bites scattered across your slick skin. He pressed his lips directly to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “You know, seeing you in class and on campus, I never would’ve pegged you as a cumslut, but everyone enjoys a good surprise every now and then…don’t they?”

“Yes–yes, yes, yes,” you chanted back, too cockdrunk to even fully process what San was saying, just focused on how full you felt, and how you needed more. 

“Good, because I got a surprise for you too.” Grunting loudly, San lowered his hips and slammed them up into you one last time, holding your trembling body still, painting your pulsing walls white. “Now, say ‘thank you, Sannie.’”

“Thank you, Sannie.” You leaned your head back to nuzzle the side of his cheek, placing your hands over his, feeling him rubbing your lower stomach in small circles, his cock still fully sheathed inside you. 

“Anytime, sugar.” San gave your hair a few strokes as a reward, before pulling out and climbing off of the couch. He took the camera back from the new guy and snapped his fingers at a few of the bricked up housemates standing nearby, pointing in your direction. “Now, show me what you’re really made of.” San gave you a charming, dimpled smile. “Make me proud, okay?” 

As a few half naked strangers surrounded you on all sides of the couch, some of them reaching out to grope your warm body, you returned San’s smile, your heart skipping a beat or two. “I’ll give it my best just for you~” 

Throughout the night, San, alongside his fraternity, conditioned you with care, meticulously molded you into a star, one they eagerly passed around, easily making your tape one of the longest in their exclusive film collection. It wasn’t difficult, by any means. You were, of course, the perfect specimen: passive, pliant, and poisoned by the oxytocin that turned your brain into mush.

Even when you were being used by more men than you could count, you couldn’t keep your attention off of Sannie, his handsome face only growing blurry when someone would make you gag on their cock, as you didn’t have the most experience with men of their size. You wanted San to yourself again, desperately wishing you could reach out for him instead of another stranger’s twitching erection — but you endured it all, falling further into the rabbit hole of pleasure for the sake of your whirlwind infatuation. 

Everyone in the frat house deeply appreciated your dedication to their amateur film, especially San, who, by the end of it, secured the perfect spot to capture the finality of your desecration. Two of his older friends had just finished inside you, their spent cocks slipping out of your used hole and revealing the beautiful mess they left.

Crouched down in front of the couch, San reached out past the camcorder to spread your puffy lips apart, each and every load you took over the past hour now slowly spilling out onto his veined hand. “Look at this pretty cunt, you guys…so full of cum, it won’t stop coming out…” He panned up to your face with the camera, giving you a wicked smile from behind it. “You’ll be pregnant in no time, won’t you, doll? With whose baby, I wonder…”

After all that, you somehow managed to act shy, covering your flushed face, giving San heart eyes past your trembling fingers. “Hopefully yours…” 

“Oh, princess.” San gently rubbed his fingers over your reddened cunt and clit, cum still dribbling out of you all the while. “I don’t think you realize how cute you’re being right now~ Almost like you didn’t just slut yourself out for everyone to see, huh? Mm, do you feel cute, Y/N?” San asked in a babying tone, as he slowly stood up and towered over you. 

“You make me feel cute…” You nuzzled your cheek into the palm of San’s warm hand once he offered it to you, hoping you secured a spot inside his heart after all the hard work you put in. “I would keep going for you if I could still feel my legs.” 

“Aww, there’s always next time, isn’t there?” he suggested slyly, rubbing away some leftover cum from your cheek before caressing the side of your face. “Do you have anything to say to our loyal fanbase, baby?” 

“I love cock, especially yours, Sannie,” you slurred lovingly up at San, through the camera lens, licking your lips, mouth watering at the thought of being invited again to film another movie. “So give me a call, okay?” 

“Oh, I will, believe me.” A smug laugh erupted from San’s puffed-out chest, as he aimed the camera at his pretty boy face for a second to announce, “We’ve officially turned another good girl into a filthy cumslut. If you’d like to watch the transformation happen in real time, feel free to stop by our frat. For extra, we’ll let you have a go.” And with that, he shut the camcorder off and pushed it into the youngest member’s chest, who looked at him with wide eyes. “Fuck it, we might even give you a turn.” 

The freshman choked on his spit. “R-really?” 

“I’m feeling nice today.” San sighed, running his fingers through his gelled up hair to fix it. When the young man just stood there drooling, the frat leader grimaced. “Upload this to all our sites ASAP, and don’t forget about our twitter page this time,” he demanded, rolling his eyes when he saw the cum stains the embarrassed student left behind on his pants. “And, for fuck’s sake, will you take care of that?” 

As another member brought a can of beer over to San, the frat leader took it and cracked it open. “Can you believe that guy? He’s been here for, what, a month now? And he’s still creaming his pants like a virgin? Unbelievable.”

As you gingerly put your clothes back on, you watched San move around the frat to dab up his friends and clink their beer cans together in celebration of another successful shoot. You couldn’t help but let out a long, lovesick sigh. He would be yours one day. Until then, you would take what you could get, and of course, become a star. 

fff taglist: @yutasbutterfly02 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @dawn-iscozy @bbdeongi @multistanbaby @crazyf0rm @kittenfrostt @magicshop1913 @enbysforhongjoong @londonbridges01 @mingisdimple @motherseonghwa23 @wwooyology @everyonewooeverywhere @leo-seonghwa @yourfatherlucifer @hwallazia @vampzity

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[kirrua]

[no-tengo-ojos]

TMAGP series finale is happening on a GWR train so expect it to be delayed by approximately 46 minutes

[shrimpari]

“I made a pact with Vol, a pact of Blood”

Strahd von Zarovich and his very, very good friend.

[bikananjarrus]

vel vel vel vel veeeellllll beloved vel!!!!!!!

this will be another seat of my pants essay so let’s see if i can keep it somewhat coherent.

first off, what a way to introduce a character! the first glimpse we get of her is through luthen��s eyes (and it’s not even a direct line of vision shot because he’s looking through a scope, but i’ll come back to that), and the first lines we hear about her is “you’ll be working for her” … “she’s going to hate this idea to start. she’s going to argue with me.” this sets vel up as someone who is stubborn, and knows what they want, especially in terms of leadership. we find out soon enough that this is very likely her first major leadership position (“you wanted to lead!”) and the way she’s been doing it so far has been working, and she doesn’t bend easily on what works. but she will concede if she knows it’s the best option, which is the case with bringing cassian clem on the team. and this quality of her leadership is absolutely one of my favorite things about her. she will bend and compromise when she needs to (even if sometimes it takes a bit more convincing); but she is also firm and will stand by what she believes. she doesn’t take the nonsense from her team when they start questioning her - she is the leader, and there’s a reason for that! she tells luthen that bringing clem on will tear the team apart, but it doesn’t, and that’s because of HER!!! she keeps them all focused, gets them back on task, and even though the team can tell she’s lying about clem always being part of the plan, she stands firm with the lie and doesn’t rat cassian out. even if she doesn’t trust him, she trusts the rest of her team, and she trusts herself. and this also demonstrates her loyalty, her commitment to other people.

and as a leader, i appreciate that it was clearly a role she wanted, and it’s equally clear that it’s a role she’s good at, but that doesn’t mean she’s not without doubts (see: the scene at the top of the dam). but when we see her have these doubts, it usually comes back to her own abilities, or her own care for the people around her getting in the way, not doubts about her team (again, she trusts them!). even when cassian tells her that skeen wanted to take off with the money, she says he wouldn’t do that - she defends him even though she knows cassian is right.

her loyalty, her leadership, and how much she cares, and cares deeply, for those close to her, are absolutely some of my favorite vel traits, which are particularly demonstrated in the aldhani arc.

now going back to the first shot we see of her + rich chandrilan girl vel. vel, like luthen and cassian, has these layers of masks and personas that she wears. the fact that the first shot we see of her is through a scope that luthen is looking through, that’s not a true image of her. and when we first see vel after the aldhani heist, all dressed up and glamorized, it’s the lifestyle she was born into, but it’s not truly her either. (i think there is definitely a part of her that is inextricably tied to that life of privilege, namely at times when you can tell she wants to be a little selfish, but i will come back to that.) but overall, the rich girl persona is not one she’s most comfortable, for sure not anymore. But she’s still very good at it! she can play the part high society expects of her! and i don’t think her ability to be a chameleon just as well as luthen and cassian is acknowledged nearly enough.

to add, vel says, “we all have our own rebellion.” i think one of vel’s rebellions is being true to herself, and her values, and being a rebel (not a rich girl) allows her to do that. part of her rebellion comes from merely existing, which is so beautiful and incredible.

going back to vel being selfish at times, which isn’t so much selfishness as it’s typically thought of in a negative way, but rather it’s want. it’s desire, and her caring for others, and it sometimes comes wrapped up in these selfish wishes (particularly with cinta) to just leave it all behind.

and to talk about this with cinta, because that’s definitely where we see it the most in the first season, vel wants. she wants cinta so deeply. vel comes from a comfortable background; she has never gone hungry a day in her life before all this, but she’s hungry for cinta. she wants cinta. and i just love that there is a strong, balanced partnership between vel and cinta, they love each other, there is a give and take, but sometimes, vel can’t help but want more. and while she certainly wants it for herself, I think it also comes from a desire to give cinta a life where she can finally be at peace and stop fighting. but vel wants that now; she wants to take cinta and just leave it all behind. and i love that cinta has to remind her that the rebellion comes first, stopping the empire comes first. because they are equal partners, and vel is committed to the rebellion. but this is where vel’s background comes in again—she hasn’t had to fight the empire for so long, from such a young age, in the way that cinta has. for cinta, this is all she knows. they are both equally committed, but sometimes i think vel forgets, slips up, probably thinks she’s asking cinta for more than she should (even though cinta absolutely loves her just as much, but just can’t stop fighting long enough to really show it), and i love that vel still says what she wants. it maybe comes off a little selfish, but it makes her infinitely more interesting. she knows what she wants (cobra & a peaceful life) and she’s not afraid to show it (and i have no idea if that all makes sense, but in short: vel’s “selfish” desires, particularly when it comes to cinta, is one of my favorite things about her.)

and since i am struggling to keep things coherent, i’ll just list a few more things i love about her: running into the smoke (!!!!); her “thank you for trying” to dr. quadpaw after nemik dies; her relationship with mon and leida; her sad little face. like has anyone ever had a face as sad as hers? i love it so much.

i could go on it to sum up: i love her and i can’t wait to see her again in s2 <3

Character Appreciation Friday - Vel Sartha

Name: Vel Sartha Played by: Faye Marsay Appearances: Aldhani, The Axe Forgets, The Eye, Announcement, Narkina 5, Nobody's Listening!, Daughter of Ferrix, Rix Road

Happy Friday and happy VELENTINE'S DAY, gang!!! Look I'm not gonna act like this is a normal one because that would be very dishonest of me. This is the most important day of the year for me, and I'd really really really love if everyone would help out with spreading appreciation and love for my number one sad girl rebel.

Please let me know what you appreciate about dear Vel in a reblog, comment, or ask!

Next week: Brasso

[royakahoshiart]

oh my god i remember this catching me so off guard.

KOU. WDYM YOU VARELY FEEL PAIN. WHAT THE FUCK.

I meas as to be expected, his hand is fucked up from the staff and when he held teru's sword by the blade, fight with hakubo and the many many times he was smashed onto the ground and also exorcist genes idfk...

[aspergasm]

All you need to know about the current state of America is that Patrick Bateman would be THRILLED about it.

[aboxofcereales]

I think there should be some magnificent writing done of the looming moral dilemma of Elspeth Rook Mercar, the Breaker of Bonds, the firm believer in heroic nonsense, falling for a Lucanis Dellamorte, whose calling is death, the First Talon of the Crows. Because no matter how big and soft his heart is, he’s still unavoidably will lead the organization who helped to save Thedas, yes, but also is intertwined with many of the horrors that the Shadow Dragons oppose. And yet, still she will always choose Treviso, instead of Minrathous.

[feyrevelry]

HAD HE HANDLED the situation well? No. Not in the slightest.

Sylverian was a sensitive man, prone to being overly emotional, overly caring. And learning this about this awful, gut-wrenching truth had hit him like a collapsing wall of bricks. It had taken time to process He wrestled with his own GUILT, his anger, his disappointment. He questioned himself, his judgment, the choices he had made. And for an entire day, he avoided everyone.

Strangely, it had been Lae’zel he confided in on the second day. Perhaps because she was the only one who hadn’t respected his need for space and barged into his tent.

And, stranger still, she hadn’t threatened to decapitate him.

Even more baffling was that, somehow, she had managed to alleviate some of his crushing guilt when he poured out his heart. Not with softness, not with kindness, but with her sharp-edged tongue.

❝ You grieve as if you held a blade to his throat and demanded his surrender. You did not. He wove a trap, and you stepped into it. I would have split his skull for such dishonor. Instead, you wallow in self-pity like a wounded pup. Chk! Enough. Either claim vengeance or move on. There is no third path. I care not which you choose. Only that you choose.❞

She made it abundantly clear that she would not allow their ' lover’s spat ' to sabotage their mission. If Astarion ever gave him grief again, she would put a stake through his heart without hesitation. She needed them all to stay focused.

And she was right. Sylverian knew she was right. He forced himself to believe she was right and to choose.

However, three days later, and already, he wanted to run back to Astarion. To tell him he was sorry for lashing out. That he hadn’t meant to kick the heart Astarion had so carefully laid bare. That none of this was Astarion’s fault — it was the cruelty of his past, the horrors he had suffered, and Sylverian hated himself for making him feel as though it was.

But he didn’t.

Because he knew himself too well. The moment he was near Astarion again, he would fall. He would let his soft heart guide him and forget all sense of reason. And then something else would happen. And then, once again, he would be a heap of misery. In their current situation, that kind of weakness spelled certain death. Also, he was certain Lae’zel was serious when she said she would stake him, and Sylverian wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for that.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . ˖ ࣪

The battle at Grymforge had drained him, leaving his thoughts tangled and his limbs heavy with the ache of combat. He had tried to avoid as much bloodshed as possible, but there had been bloodshed nonetheless. Even now, sleep eluded him, and had him drifting in that uneasy space between wakefulness and dreams.

And then, a sound.

Subtle. No louder than the sigh of a passing breeze. Had it even been real? His mind was too weary to say, but something within him stirred, an instinct pulling him from that restless half-sleep. Slowly, he turned over, his breath catching in his throat as his gaze landed on what had been left for him.

There, just inside the entrance, lay his gloves! Not stained and torn, but whole. Repaired. And more than that — embellished. More beautiful than they had been before. He sat up, his hands trembled as he reached for them, fingers ghosting over the careful embroidery.

And beneath them, a letter.

Tears welled in his eyes before he even unfolded the parchment. He already knew who had left this.

Astarion.

Sylverian clutched the gloves to his chest, squeezing them tight as he unfolded the letter. With every word, the ache in his chest deepened and the dam broke. Tears spilled freely, hot and silent down his cheeks. Perhaps he was a fool. Perhaps the others would laugh at him, judge him for his softness, his ridiculous, aching heart. But he didn’t care! He wanted nothing more than to throw his arms around Astarion, to tell him he was an idiot for ever thinking Sylverian could be rid of him.

Carefully, he placed the gloves and the letter aside, then he stood and stepped out to rush to Astarion’s tent — but it was empty.

His stomach dropped. No. No, he hadn’t left. He couldn’t have. Sylverian’s pulse pounded as he darted inside, scanning for signs of abandonment — but Astarion’s belongings were still here. With a soft sigh of relief, Sylverian let himself sink onto Astarion’s bedroll, adjusted his silken nightgown as he lay down, and waited. Astarion would come back to him, and when he did, Sylverian would be there for him. He reached out to grasp a discarded shirt, pulling it close to his chest, inhaling deeply as Astarion’s scent surrounded him. He missed him already.

THIS WAS NOT HOW ASTARION HAD SEEN THINGS GOING. There was horror blooming on that gorgeous face, wrapped in thorns and heartbreak. Astarion may be a vampire and far past accepting that fact despite the pain it'd brought him, but this... Oh, this made him feel beastly. He'd given away the truth without explaining it, and without giving any reassurances that maybe he did want this. Because -

Why? What was he so afraid of that he'd willingly tried to continue this charade when it was clearly nearing its expiration anyway? Fighting his own feelings had only drowned them both.

Now Sylverian felt like a monster who'd groped at his skin and torn into his flesh without his wanting it. And while it was true that Astarion hadn't, at least not at first, they weren't hands that had ever harmed him.

Sylverian never ripped out his hair. He never shoved things inside him when he was ill prepared, eyes glossy and far away. Even if he'd fallen into himself when they'd fallen into bed together, he was still somehow the most present he'd ever been when that sweet touch blessed his skin.

It was Astarion who'd tainted this. He lied. And he lied again to cover the lie. And he kept lying until he couldn't lie anymore and Sylverian was shattering before him into multicolored crystalline shards. This, he had to admit, was the most loathsome he'd felt in his entire existence and he couldn't even bring himself to speak.

Through eyes wide, sad, and shining with fear Astarion was forced to watch and listen, frozen to the spot, as he was told he'd never be forgiven. It served him right, really. This was what he'd earned through his own choices. Could he even be trusted with making his own choices?

Was Astarion even capable of making good choices to begin with?

Could he change that?

If he accepted that he was helpless and stayed the same, perhaps he'd spend his freedom after killing Cazador doing the same thing over and over again. Breaking hearts and experiencing the torment of having genuinely wanted them but fucking it all up. Or worse - perhaps he'd fall prey to doing the same horrible things as his master. Obsessive over something, destructive, willing to tear down the world for the kind of power that allowed no one to hurt or leave him again. He was frightened and he was weak and Gods Sylverian was leaving him and he didn't want him to.

"Please. Wait, you don't have to -" You don't have to forgive me, just please don't leave.

By the time he'd reached out his hand in an attempt to catch one of Sylverian's wrists before he could flee it was too late. He was gone, his sobbing carrying over the camp grounds, and Astarion was left alone wrapped in fur and choking down the urge to cry and curse himself. (Astarion didn't deserve to cry like Sylverian. He did this.)

⋆｡°✩ - ⋆｡°✩ - ⋆｡°✩ - ⋆｡°✩ - ⋆｡°✩ - ⋆｡°✩ - ⋆｡°✩ - ⋆｡°✩- ⋆｡°✩

IF THE JUDGEMENT THAT FATEFUL EVENING HAD BEEN BAD... In the days that followed, it was worse. Sylverian was avoiding him. Whenever Astarion attempted to catch him alone to speak with him the little golden boy was squirreling himself away - gathering a party, talking to someone who glared daggers over his shoulder, rushing out of camp before Astarion even got within five feet of him. The rest of the party all had cutting things to say to him, too. Even Lae'zel, who found Sylverian's frequent crying irritating had threatened to stake him if he hurt him any further than he had.

Frankly it was beginning to piss Astarion off. He was trying. But every time he tried his attempts were rebuffed or dodged. More than ever his existence felt like a plague, and he was beginning to think, more than a week later, that perhaps he shouldn't stay. To the Hells with all of them. Let them all die screaming like he would.

Except... every time he packed up his bag and pressed his palms to his tent with all intentions of dismantling it to take with him, his guilt and shame arrested him. They'd made it to the Underdark. Tomorrow they'd be passing through the Grymforge to the surface, to the Shadow Cursed lands. Before he was even more starved and emotionally unstable, he had to do something.

Halsin seemed to be the only one in the group willing to entertain him for more than a moment since he'd admitted to it. So it was after some sage advice from the world's most annoying druid that Astarion settled on the one thing he could do about this.

If Sylverian wouldn't speak to him, then he'd leave him a note. Perhaps even a gift. Both things he could discard should he not be interested. After all, he'd overheard that the day prior a pair of Sylverian's favorite gloves had been utterly ruined in a fight. He was distraught about it, and there was no way to not know about it - everyone in Faerûn knew when Sylverian was unhappy with something. He may not be able to fix what he'd done, but he could fix this.

And so, as he was left behind once more Astarion fished those gloves out of a bucket they'd been unceremoniously dumped in during a melodramatic fit and scrubbed them until the blood was gone. He spent the entire day holed up in his tent, sewing. There were holes, but he fixed them with careful embroidery - intricate stars and fairies with a silver thread he'd found when they were still above ground. They were beautiful. Dare he say more so than they had been before.

Late that night, when the lantern in Sylverian's tent had gone out and the camp was silent, Astarion stalked through the dark lit only by glowing crystals and mushrooms toward his former lover's tent. The flap was tied shut, but he wasn't looking for an invitation to feed - he'd gone longer without, and surely he was going to again. Dropping into a low crouch before the sealed opening, Astarion shoved his apology under the canvas - the gloves, neatly folded and crossed over one another resting atop a letter written in flowing crimson script.

He then stole into the night in hopes of finding something to eat. It'd been days. Hells, he'd take a gnome at this point. (Except he wouldn't. It would upset Sylverian.)

The note read:

Sylverian, I want you to know that I'm sorry. You've said you won't ever forgive me and I understand, but you deserve this. If nothing else, you deserve an apology. Really you deserve the world at your pretty fingertips. Here we are about to march into eternal darkness when you deserve sunlight and happiness, and not a bitter and twisted man like me.

There is no good reason why I did what I did. The truth is that you didn't deserve it.

I don't want to make excuses. Something about you makes me want to be better. You make me want to be honest when lying would be so much easier. It's been instinct for two hundred years. You've made me believe that maybe I can BE better than this. Better than what he made me.

What I experienced is a part of the real world, but you're also real. I was too afraid to allow myself to believe that and I treated you like a tool instead of a person, just like my master did to me.

I feel awful, but... this isn't about me. I lied to you, bedded you, and manipulated your feelings so you or the others would have no reason to drive a stake through my heart. Even more, I wanted you to save me. I wanted you to want to save me. I didn't expect to start feeling something real, and I certainly didn't expect this. I didn't expect to want something real... with you. You trusted me, even when that was an objectively stupid thing to do, and you deserve me being honest even if it makes me look worse and you want to be rid of me.

What I feel is real. That day was difficult because I thought I could force myself to get rid of it. This time I don't have Cazador taking you from me an hour before sunrise, crushing my hope and mocking me. There is no getting rid of this, not for me. So I'll devote myself to doing better. Or... trying. I don't know what better is, but I'm willing to try.

For what it's worth, your touch was the first I've ever chosen for myself. Even if I didn't go about it honestly. You didn't hurt me. I hurt you.

You deserve happiness. I'll be here to make sure you achieve that and live, even if it isn't by your side.

Yours, Astarion

[gulasdenforbreakdowns]

Ok no I'm actually loosing it because why is me saying my opinion on yesterday Ferrari circus "not knowing the sport" or "watching f1 from dts"??!!

Like ok my first error was voicing my opinion on tiktok where people have the same intellectual ability of an house plant ( and that's insulting the house plant) but wtf?! Now suddenly having an opinion ( not even an opinion it's practically a fact and I basically said what I wrote in my other post) means that idk how the sport work?! I'm just flabbergasted and deeply offended because it's one of my biggest and older passions and hyperfixations and ok it shouldn't matter what people say online but I really hate when people assume things about me.

Anyway sorry for the rants we will soon return to our scheduled program of me being horny on main and treat drivers ( and possibly others) as my personal barbie dolls ( working on how to make the two menace being magic girls with their death broom brooms) :3

[pinkd3mon]

To trust somebody

[leveragedlibrarians]

I gotta say 'The Last Dam Job' is golden in many ways but by far the best part has got to be the line delivery on "And a Chinese Artifact"

[afrogsmoraldilemma]

I am a woman in STEM*!

*Suffering Through Every Moment