#i might be writing a fanfic about it

[somekindofneurodivergency]

What is I said after the first Agni Kai the healers tell Iroh Zuko's not gonna make it. What if Iroh drops everything and takes Zuko to the North Pole where he begs for help from the waterbenders because his boy, his son, is gonna die. What if Chief Arnook sees the same desperation he had when Yue was born dead in Iroh's eyes. What if after Zuko gets help from the Northern Water Tribe he stays because it's safer. What if Iroh had to go back to the Fire Nation and Zuko stayed back. What if Yue and Zuko became friends. What if Zuko from the Northern Water Tribe. What then, huh? What are you gonna do about it.

[azuronel]

my predictions for the end of book 7

EDIT: part two here

[ejsuperstar]

Imagine you live in pelican town. The new farmer has been here a couple weeks now and seems to be settling in, except... He's picking the weirdest friend choices. Like sure it's not weird to befriend the local fisherman, especially when he has an interest in fishing himself, but you're pretty sure you've seen him rooting through the Saloon's garbage with the local homeless man. As well, he keeps harassing the poor guy who works at Joja even though you KNOW he doesn't want to be friends with him.

And since you're on the topic of weirdness, isn't it odd he seemingly runs everywhere at a full sprint? Or just... Eats entire raw fish while fishing for "energy reasons"...

...

Despite all that, it's too early to call him off putting or anything... He has been engaging in town traditions, and he's started helping out with the old community centre. He's probably like the rest of you. Someone with a few quirks, that will fit in with the valley great!

Surely he can't get any weirder... Right?

[torchstelechos]

I love that Isabeau is the one to bring up the "what do we do if you die" conversation cause its a very good insight to his character at the very start of the game. Isabeau is practical, smart, and loves everyone dearly and wants to know how to help them when shit goes sideways. He's the one to ask about Bonnie too, which is a delightful read on how he thinks because everyone else shuts that down instantly as a "That wont happen and cant happen" but we see later in the game it can happen which is such a startling thing for a game to do but justifies the foreshadowing of Bonnie can die what do we do if that happens? Isabeau, despite everything, is also the one who gets to the heart of the matter even if its not something must people are willing to talk about. All without it being part of his friendquest, thats just him naturally. Which! Says so much about him and how he is! His character when its not about his relationship with Siffrin is a very intriguing thing because it feels like a very classic hard intellectual stance that's been softened after many years of learning to better communicate healthily with others. A reflection, if you will, of Odile but in a very drastic direction. I find him fascinating and I also want to scoop his brains out and study them under a microscope to see all his little brain thoughts.

[sukunasbow]

protecter, daryl dixon.

summary: in which your daughter gets curious about you and daryl’s relationship after he continues to protect the two of you!

warnings: obviously reader has a kid, fem!reader, and this is not yet proof read!

notes: requested by anon, hope this finds you well bby!

The prison is gone. The governor destroyed it and everything in it’s path, leaving it for the dead to make their new home. Now, the group is separated, everyone off with their own smaller group, hoping to reunite and find each other again.

You, fortunately, got split off with your daughter, who you never would’ve left, and Daryl. The three of you are somewhere in the forest, surrounding a small fire, eating scraps of the rabbit the man killed.

“Here, want some more?” You offer your daughter some more of your share of the rabbit meat, making sure she’s not going hungry for the night. “No, she can have some of mine.” Daryl insists, gently pushing your hand back down, instead offering the little girl some of his share. “I’m full.” Your daughter rejects the offer, brushing her hands off on her pants, “Ya sure?” He asks again. She nods in response.

“Okay, let’s go to sleep.” You move towards your daughter and give her your sweater, leaving you in a tank top. It’s a cold night, but she’s your priority at the moment, so you help her put on the clothing. “Night, mommy.” She mumbles, pausing for a second and patting the wood chips and dirt down, then lying down. “Goodnight, Daryl.” The girl adds. You glance at him, admiring his smile at your daughter.

Your daughter sits up, scanning her surroundings. It’s still dark out, she couldn’t sleep. “Mommy.” She whispers, attempting to wake you up. Your currently sleeping next to Daryl, his arms wrapped around your waist, soft snores escaping from his lips. “Mommy.” The young girl shakes you again. “What’s wrong?” Daryl shoots up when he hears your daughter’s voice, immediately grabbing his crossbow that’s next to him, turning back to face her. “I couldn’t sleep.” She says. “Oh.” Daryl places the weapon back down, carefully shuffling around to sit next to the girl, deciding to let you get some more rest.

“What’s keeping ya up?” He asks your daughter, receiving a shrug in response. “

Are you scared?” Daryl tries a different approach to his question.

She shrugs.

“Okay.” He pauses, starting to feel awkward in the silence, deciding to pick a small flower out of the ground and twirl it around in his hands. “So, you’re dating my mom?” She blurts out. Daryl’s eyes widen slightly, causing him to drop the flower, turning to face her. “What?” He replies. “I’m not stupid.” The girl pauses, “I know you like her.” She continues, teasing the older man about your relationship with him. He gets flustered, slightly blushing, “None of your business, it’s personal, adult stuff.” He scoffs, earning a laugh from her. “It became my business. You’re always protecting us, which is nice. I like you, I think you’re good for my mom. But..” She sighs, “If you ever do anything to hurt her, you won’t see the next day.” She threatens the man. Daryl shakes his head, not taking your daughter seriously, but still responding with an honest answer, “I’d never hurt her.”

[zoldsick]

- Something Lost, Something Gained -

collab w @nanpecan

⚔︎ summary | zoro x f!reader - After two years of training and hardship, you and the rest of the strawhats reunite at Sabaody. What should have been a happy reunion between friends turns sour between you and Zoro after some unresolved tension threatens the dynamic of your friendship. How can you get things back to how they were before?

⚔︎ tags | smut, masturbation, pining, jealousy, nobody knocks before entering, nsfw, MDNI

⚔︎ wordcount | ~7.2k

⚔︎ Read on AO3

⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎

Two years had changed everything. 

Zoro was the first to arrive at the Sabaody Archipelago. Perona had eyed Zoro as he anxiously sharpened his swords the whole trek there. She smiled to herself, she knew he was becoming more excited the closer he got to the meeting point in Sabaody. The closer to his goal he got, the more antsy he became.

Zoro knew Luffy’s decision had been for the best, and because of it he was able to hone his skills well beyond what they had been two years prior. His fingers itched for an opportunity to show off his new skills, to show the crew how much he had been training. He couldn't help but wonder how you had fared during your two years. There was no doubt in his mind you had gotten stronger as well.

When you’d first joined the Strawhats, you and Zoro immediately clicked. The two of you worked seamlessly together as you advanced through the Grand Line towards Luffy’s dream. You drank, you sparred, and you laughed together as if you were two sides of the same coin. But the way the two of you fought alongside each other was what truly connected you. Zoro’s swordsmanship was harsh and powerful, he cut down enemy after enemy with his offensive techniques. You, on the other hand, specialized in defense and used your opponent’s own strength against them. Your styles complemented each other perfectly and anytime you fought together it was a deadly pairing, a true sight to behold. 

However, what was supposed to be a joyous reunion quickly turned into a game of cat and mouse as the crew narrowly made it off Seabody. 

You’d admit that you were disappointed to learn that Zoro had been first only to wander off out of boredom. Typical, you thought. If he had just waited a little longer he would have seen you arrive second and the two of you might have had some time to talk. You were so excited to tell him all about your two years of training. Your mind often wandered to the rest of the crew. You wondered where they were and how they were growing. 

You took a moment to reflect on your dismay for not being able to speak with Zoro. Why did it bother you so much? Was it because you wanted to tell him that he had often occupied your thoughts over the last couple years? That when you were at your lowest, the only thing that had gotten you through was the thought of making him proud to fight alongside you? You shook the thoughts from your head. What did you even hope to gain from confessing this to him? 

For as long as you’d known him,  Zoro only had one goal, one ambition, and it was to become the World’s Greatest Swordsman. His loyalty to Luffy knew no bounds as he had no doubt that their captain would lead them to their dreams. So, you pushed back your selfish desires. You both trained hard for the better of the crew, so expecting anything more would be foolish. 

There was no denying that the two of you had gotten exponentially stronger. With a small slash of his sword Zoro could now take out dozens of enemies, and your deflection and offensive fighting had become second nature, easily beating opponents ten times your size. 

Unfortunately, there was no time to celebrate your new strengths before a glaring issue arose during your first fight together on Fishman Island. The two of you had never been so out of sync. 

How did two years change both of you so drastically? 

You both cursed out loud, frustrated as you ebbed and flowed to completely different rhythms. You would reach out to strike an enemy, only to almost be impaled by Zoro’s blade. Zoro would prepare to strike, only to be thrown off balance by an enemy body that you flung in his direction. Luffy laughed as he watched the two of you struggle, which only added to your irritation. 

By the time the battle was over you were disheartened to say the least. Zoro couldn’t even look at you, and you couldn’t find the words to say to him either. Should you apologize? You didn’t think you had done anything wrong, he had been in your way too. The more you thought about it the more annoyed you became. Your mind raced in circles about the ridiculous situation. You came back to reality as you heard a voice calling out to you - Sanji. 

You relaxed your furrowed brows and the unconscious frown on your face faded away. The curly-browed chef sauntered towards you with a glass delicately balanced on a tray. “Oh Y/N-love, please enjoy this dessert I’ve made for you. I’ve poured all my love into it. Only the best for my fighting beauty.” 

You looked up to see a colorful, intricately decorated cup of chocolate mousse. You instantly lit up. Sanji knew it was one of your favorite desserts. You quickly scooped a spoonful into your mouth and closed your eyes as you savored the rich flavor. “Sanji, you don’t know how much I missed your cooking.” You took another bite and smiled widely, looking up at him. “If I wasn’t in such bliss I would get up and kiss you, I really would.”

Sanji turned to you with hearts in his eyes and shot backward as streams of blood rocketed out of his nose. You heard Chopper yell out, “He’s relapsed again! Y/N you can’t do that, he’s in recovery!” 

You laughed as you watched Chopper fret over the lovestruck man. You always got a kick out of teasing him. Your eyes flickered up to the kitchen door and you watched Zoro push it open, exiting with a dramatic thunk. 

… 

Zoro walked out in a worse mood than before. He knew he had messed up during that battle, both of you had made mistakes. He had almost hurt you on numerous occasions and that had completely thrown him off his game. He went over to the ship railing and stared out. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

He had been avoiding you, he didn’t know what else to do. Ever since he saw you again he knew he needed to keep his distance.

 You had come back different. Your hair was different, your clothes were different, your body was different, and you were shitload stronger. But your voice? It was exactly the same. God…he hadn’t realized how much he had missed the sound of your voice. And your eyes? He had to look away every time you turned in his direction, he couldn’t stand it. Beautiful. He had always known this. He knew he didn’t know a lot about beauty and pretty things, but there was no denying it anymore. You were beautiful to him.  

He gripped the railing in frustration. What was he thinking? You’d looked so angry sitting there at the kitchen table. Your eyebrows pressed together and the corners of your mouth pointing down in a scowl. You had been thinking about how useless he had been, he was sure of it. He needed to clear his head, he needed to work out. 

…

Robin was out on the deck of the Thousand Sunny enjoying a new book about ancient tribal societies. She sipped peacefully from a cup of tea and looked out into the horizon. She didn’t think she would ever get tired of the sunsets on the Sunny. Her eyes wandered slightly over to where a green head of hair had been huffing and puffing and aggressively lifting weights for the past two hours. She sighed. 

She had been watching you and Zoro these last couple of weeks and figured out the source of the tension immediately. It really wouldn’t be good for the crew to have some of their best fighters distracted and clumsy, she told herself. They were in the New World now and all members needed to be at their best. She stared back at her book as a plan formed in her mind. It was for the good of the crew, it really was. 

…

Zoro got up from his spot near the mast and stomped past Robin at her table. “How long do you intend to pout over Y/N?” she asked, not looking up from her book. 

Zoro stopped and stared at her, “What are you saying?” 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I’ve got eyes everywhere after all.” She looked up at Zoro as he tried to keep a straight face. “Just go talk to her. She’s in the women’s bunks right now, she just finished showering. It's a good time to have a private conversation. Just go clear the air. Trust me.” 

Zoro just grunted in reply and kept walking past her. Suddenly a hand popped up as he reached the top of the stairs, pointing a slender finger towards the left. “It's that way dear,”  Robin said. He grumbled. 

Zoro turned to his left and slowly walked towards the door of the women’s bunks before halting in the middle of the hallway. What was he going to say? You had seemed so aggravated before, how was he supposed to fix this? As he hesitated, he thought of how the two of you used to be. He was so desperate to get back to that. These feelings needed to stop here, you were in a pirate crew and you both need to remember that. He snapped his head up and marched toward your door.

Zoro was full of determination now. He was going to clear the air like Robin said. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he was sure he would figure it out. Anything was better than where he was now. He wanted to make it work. He wanted to make it up to you. 

Zoro gripped the door handle and burst into the room without thinking or knocking, thunderously declaring, “Y/N! LET’S GO BACK TO THE WAY WE USED TO--!” 

You were naked.

 His eye dropped down to look at the red pair of panties you had on. 

Okay, not completely naked. 

You stared at him in shock as his eye wandered up your body, finally meeting yours. 

“GET OUT!!!” you shrieked, breaking the silence. You grabbed the towel out of your hair in an attempt to cover yourself up. “OUT! NOW! ZORO! OUT!!!”

He turned on his heels and moved forward at lightning speed, running straight into the door frame with a crash you thought might have shaken the whole ship. He readjusted and flew out of the room, back out to the deck where he saw Robin, still sitting there with a book in hand. 

She looked up from her book lazily and her eyes went straight to the red welt across his face. “How did it go?” she asked with an amused smile. 

“Yes,” Zoro said, hands on his knees while he panted, still stunned about everything that had just happened. So much for getting back to normal.

Robin stared at the poor man as he walked off towards his room. 

…

You stood in the room, frozen. The initial shock of Zoro walking in on you had passed, but you still couldn't process it. You stared at the open door, unmoving, and struggling to breath. You felt your whole body get warm as you thought about Zoro’s eye moving up your body. You shook your head to free yourself from the memory and hurried to dress yourself.

If Zoro had been avoidant before, he was like a ghost now. For the rest of the day you swore you could feel Zoro’s intense gaze on you, but the second you looked up he was nowhere to be found. It was maddening. 

You tried to ignore the green menace and go about your day as normal. You sat in the kitchen and helped Nami grind some ink and helped Chopper organize some herbs, but your mind was elsewhere. You sat with the others who plugged away as you half-heartedly joined in.  

You kept replaying the scene over and over in your head. He had looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. But there was something else. You contemplated the gleam you saw in his eye. It was familiar to you, he looked like that when he was in battle, when he faced a real challenge. When he placed his precious Wado Ichimonji in his mouth and finally challenged a worthy adversary. 

It was hunger.

You felt the blood rise to your face and reached for the sweet drink Sanji and left you. As you chugged down your drink an image danced at the corner of your mind. Zoro, mad with hunger, but instead of his sword, your underwear was in between his teeth.

You choked. Coughing loudly, you sprayed your drink across the table. You winced as you tried to catch your breath and rid yourself of the tantalizing image you conjured up. You felt Chopper’s tiny hoove smack your back rapidly as he tried to help you. 

“Y/N! Be careful!” Nami exclaimed, snatching away her notes as you coughed near them. 

You put your hand up to signal you were okay. Robin smiled from her seat at other corner of the kitchen. 

“Sanji! Get her some water!” Chopper exclaimed as he continued to beat your back. 

“It’s alright, I’m okay,” you said, clearing your throat. 

“But you’re still bright red!” he cried. “Breathe! Breathe through your nose!” you laughed and gladly accepted the water Sanji offered you. 

“Are you alright, Y/N-love?” Sanji asked. 

“Yes,” you tried to collect yourself and play it off. “I’m afraid the flavors of the tea you’ve brewed for me were a shock to my system!” You joked to help get the attention off of you. “The depth of the flavor! The notes of bergamot!” you exclaimed, your voice still gruff. 

You watched Sanji spin around in circles around the room, “All for you my beautiful Y/N-love!”

“Do you have to egg him on, Y/N?” Nami asked with a bored expression as she watched the cook rejoice. 

“I can’t help it, I missed him. I really did.” You smiled at her. “You have to admit he’s good at what he does every once and a while. I’m just making up for lost time.” 

Nami shook her head with a smile. You heard the kitchen door open with a loud thud and a flash of green hair exit. Had Zoro been in the kitchen the whole time? You had been too engrossed in your thoughts to notice. You looked down at your now empty glass and grimaced. Why was this so complicated? You backed out of your chair and excused yourself to get some air. 

…

The night breeze gently blew through your hair as you leaned over the banister to look out onto the Sunny. 

Despite all your attempts, you found yourself thinking back to Zoro and the look on his face. Were you right about what you saw? Was it hunger? Or somehow worse, desire? Your stomach felt warm and your throat felt tight. You put your head in your hands. There was no way. He didn’t think like that, all he thought about was his swords. You were reading too much into it. 

Let’s go back to the way we used to. His words replayed in your head. So, he had noticed something had changed between the two of you. You wondered just how much he had noticed. 

You sighed, growing increasingly frustrated you ran a hand through your hair. Why were you so caught up on this? You were being childish. A pirate ship was no place for romance. You needed to clear this whole thing up. 

The kitchen door opened again as Robin walked out. You quickly straightened up and turned towards her, throwing on a half-hearted smile. 

She stared at you for a beat before smiling back. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

You looked at Robin and hung your head in defeat. “I really am easy to read, huh.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said in her usual sly tone. You were quiet as she leaned over the banister next to you. “I heard some commotion from our bunks earlier in the day, did Zoro get lost again?” 

“It was nothing,” you answered too quickly, “I just chewed him out for not knocking.” 

“Oh really?” you knew your face was red so you didn’t look at her. “I did see him shortly before that. He seemed very determined to do something. I wonder what it was.” Robin eyed you curiously. 

“He always looks like that. When he’s not sleeping, that is.” 

“True,” she said. You both went silent for a bit. You looked down below as movement caught your eye and you saw Franky messing with the helm of the ship. “Two years really makes the heart grow fonder. I’ve missed you all.” You turned to look at her. Her eyes were locked in on Franky. You followed her gaze to him and saw a hand sprout from the nearby beam. It reached out to gently caress his cheek. 

Franky leaned into the touch and once Robin’s hand disappeared he turned back to look at the both of you and laughed. Then, he dramatically struck a heart pose with his massive arms and yelled out, “MY SUUUUPPPERRR LOVELY GAL!” 

Your mouth fell open and you looked back at Robin in shock, “Since when?” 

Robin kept her gaze on the blue haired man, smiling fondly. “Back at Water 7,” Your jaw dropped. “It’s rare to meet people that make you feel like your most authentic self. Meeting Luffy and the rest of the crew, I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged until now. But, I’ve also never felt as seen by anyone else until I met him.” Her eyes never left the goofy cyborg. “We may be pirates, but we’re owed our own pleasures here and there, are we not?” 

Franky continued his barrage of various poses for Robin as she looked on with amusement. You watched the two in awe. You had no idea they had such affection for one another, but somehow it made perfect sense. As you observed the pair, Robin’s words echoed in your head. So, a relationship like this is possible, huh? You cursed yourself and swiftly dismissed the thought. There was no point in getting your hopes up. 

“Y/N-love! Robin-chwan! Dinner’s ready!” Sanji announced as he burst through the kitchen door. “Franky! Get your ass in here you greasy oaf!” He went back inside. 

“You should go tell Zoro dinner is ready,” Robin said, stepping back from the bannister. You unfortunately couldn’t see her devilish grin as she headed into the kitchen. 

You took a couple seconds to collect your thoughts. Finally, after taking a deep exaggerated breath, you turned on your heels and headed for the men’s bunks. 

… 

Zoro grumbled to himself as he stomped back to the men’s bunks. He had been hiding in the back corner of the kitchen as he sulked and nursed a bottle of liquor. Overhearing you praise that dumbass cook sent him storming out of the kitchen. He knew he acted like an impulsive child, but seeing the way your face softened as you complimented Sanji had been the last straw. You had never said a word about Zoro’s skills. You never spoke about how much you missed him. He knew he had been fucking up with you ever since you reunited. He fucked up in fights and now he had fucked up the chance to talk to you. He was losing his edge. 

Discarding his shirt, he threw himself onto his small bed and covered his face with his arms. He willed himself to calm down and get a grip. He needed to sleep. He was no good on this ship if he kept behaving like this. However, rest did not come. 

Despite his conviction, his mind wandered back to you. Back to the moment he had walked in on you. He played it over and over again in his mind. You had been so shocked, so embarrassed, but he couldn’t help himself. You had looked so…soft. 

He closed his eyes as he tried to recall every detail. He thought of the red underwear that hugged your hips. He thought of the shape of your lip as your mouth fell open in shock. He thought of the deep blush that crawled across your scarred skin down to your shoulders. He thought of the shape of your breasts and the color of your perky nipples, cold and wet from your shower. He thought of the smooth curves of your body and your calloused hands desperately trying to cover yourself. He thought of the smell of your shampoo that filled the room with your aroma and made him feel drunk. He still felt drunk. 

An all too familiar sensation settled in his core. He opened his eyes and frowned as he looked down at his pants. Damn it. 

Zoro ignored the guilt he felt as he pulled back the hem of his pants and reached down to touch himself to the image of you. 

… 

You approached the men’s barracks and stood in front of the door. You reached for the handle and put your hand on the twisting the knob, preparing to burst through. When suddenly, you heard something. It was faint, a sort of mumbling. You pressed your ear against the door. 

“Fuck-” You froze. “Fuck, just like that. Please…” 

You were too shocked to move. Zoro’s voice rang out again as you stood by. “S-Stupid Cook, fuck- Stupid curly-brow.” Your mouth fell open, dumbfounded. Was he talking about Sanji? “Thinks h’s so great. Good at what‘e does?” His words were slurred as he grunted. “I’m good too, I’m so good. I’ll show you-Y/N-fuck.” he moaned “I’ll show you just how good I am.”  

Your whole body pressed against the door. Did he say my name?

… 

Zoro was hot. 

His breath hitched as he spat into his palm and regripped to thrust himself into his fist. You were everywhere. His mind was filled with you. You were the cause of all his frustrations. This was all your fault. 

He struggled with the blankets around him and threw them to the ground in exasperation. Zoro crawled to the edge of the bed, never stopping his hand from moving up and down his cock. This wasn’t enough. He scuffled to his feet, still pumping himself with one hand. He used his other hand to grip the side of his bed to keep himself steady. This position wasn’t helping either. He was even more restless. He still wanted more. He wanted you. 

“Y/N.” Zoro moaned out your name, unable to keep his words to himself. His hips were twitching and his hand that gripped the post begged to be holding something else. 

… 

Carefully, you clicked open the door and slipped inside the dark room. Zoro’s back was facing you and he was too much in his own world to notice your presence. You watched as the muscles across his bare back flexed and spasmed as he vigorously stroked himself.

“God, please. Please, Y/N.” Zoro spoke in a whimper. His voice was even more clear than it had been before. You forced your breathing to stay steady as you watched Pirate Hunter Zoro beg for you. Your cheeks burned at the sight before you. Your fingertips twitched and deep inside your core felt tingly and ticklish. 

It seemed that you both were nearing the last of your patience. Zoro’s breathing quickened and his pace became more erratic. You could tell he was getting close. 

We can’t have that now, can we? 

You slammed the door closed behind you and watched with excitement as Zoro’s back straightened and he snapped to face you, and what a sight it was. Zoro looked at you with a mixture of confusion and lust, his face was flush and he struggled to hide his obvious erection with a blanket from the intruder. “What the hell! Don’t you assholes ever knock?!” he spat out. But when his eyes finally adjusted to the dark and Zoro recognized who was standing in front of him, his expression turned to shock and embarrassment. 

You smiled. Everything made sense now. 

Zoro began to move to cover himself more adequately, but you stopped him, raising a hand, “No, please,” you stared as your other hand reached behind you to secure the latch on the door. “Don’t let me distract you, Zoro.” 

The way you whispered his name sent chills down Zoro’s spine. “Y-Y/N- I - this isn’t - I didn’t mean-” 

“Keep going.” Zoro looked at you in shock. You continued, “You were calling my name, weren’t you? I’m here now, so keep going.” 

There was a slight hesitation in Zoro, his eyes searched yours for some kind of explanation. But with the very subject of his indecent thoughts standing in front of him, egging him on, he knew he couldn’t stop here. 

Zoro leaned back against his bunk and without breaking eye contact, moved his blanket to expose himself to you. His thick and lengthy cock twitched with excitement and ached to be touched. You walked forward and let your eyes trail along his body, you wanted him.. But you had to be patient for this. You took a seat on the adjacent bunk facing Zoro. The pressure between you was crushing and both of you were losing grip on your long held restraint. 

“Go on,” You instructed the man in front of you. 

As if he was released from a spell, his hand moved automatically, gripping his stiff cock in his hand. Closing his eye, he teased his tip slightly before shoving himself into his palm with a satisfying thrust. Zoro couldn’t stop the guttural moan that escaped his mouth. He opened his eye to see your reaction and nearly moaned a second time. 

Your face was completely flushed with desire as you gawked at Zoro, taking in every inch of his toned body and throbbing cock. Your mouth was watering at the sight. You weren’t sure you had ever wanted someone this much. Your whole body was tingling and becoming sensitive. 

You wanted to feel good too. You began tracing your fingers along your neck, shuddering at the sensation. You grazed the hem of your shirt and in one quick motion you yanked it over your head, exposing yourself and your bra. 

Zoro, high with his own arousal, immediately took a step forward upon seeing you uncovered before him. But before he got any closer, a hard shove from you sent him flying back to his original spot. He looked at you with annoyance and confusion. 

“I don’t remember saying you could stop, swordsman,” you said with a sly smile. He stared daggers at you. “Keep going, and watch closely.” 

You slid your fingers in your mouth, tasting the lingering salty flavor from Zoro's sweaty body after you had shoved him. You ran your tongue along your fingertips, never breaking eye contact with him. Zoro’s breathing hitched as he gaped at you, his pace quickened and he began using his other hand to tease his balls. You smirked at his reaction, slipping your other hand underneath your bra and gripping your breast. You were getting lost in your own self pleasure. 

Satisfied with your prep, you removed your hand from your mouth, slick with your own saliva, and pulled back your skirt to reveal your red underwear. The same pair from before. Zoro caught a glimpse of the wet stain at the center of your panties and bit his lip. You looked back up at Zoro to see his yearning eyes drilling a hole through you. You circled your fingertips around the fabric at your center, effectively teasing both you and Zoro. 

“Zoro,” your voice caught him by surprise, he looked up to meet your lustful gaze, “do you touch yourself while thinking of me often?” 

Zoro clenched his jaw, then he smirked. You were such a tease, but two could play this game, “Do you think you’re that special?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, playfully turning the ends of your lips downward. His eyebrows furrowed as he was brought back to that moment in the kitchen and how upset you had appeared. He grunted as he pumped himself rougher, his frustration rising. 

“Did that make you upset?” he said, his voice dripping with irritation. “I’m not that pervy cook, it takes more than a little teasing to win me over.” 

You smiled, amused by his evasive responses, “Well then, should I give you some inspiration?”  

Zoro’s cocky smile faded as you pulled the fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your wet cunt. You looked back up at him one last time before finally giving yourself some relief. You closed your eyes and began caressing your clit, gasping from the contact. You were feeling more sensitive than usual as Zoro’s unwavering eye watched your every move. You moved your fingers lower, and circled around your entrance, lathering your fingers with your own juices. Finally, you inserted two fingers, and your body relaxed from the pleasure. As you worked yourself, you widened your legs and reached your other hand down to massage your swollen bud. You bit your lip, but failed to hold back your aroused voice. 

Zoro was mesmerized as you fingered yourself in front of him. He couldn’t believe this was real. It took every fiber of his being to control himself and not launch himself at you. His chest felt tight. He wasn’t used to feeling tied down or powerless. In all honesty, it was a turn on seeing you take charge. However, his composure was wearing thinner and thinner as he watched your fingers pump in and out of our glistening pussy. 

“You look like you’re having a good time over there too, huh?” Zoro was testing his luck, he knew he was just about over the edge himself, “How often do you think about my cock when you fuck yourself like that?” 

You were too far gone to keep playing this game. Your pace quickened on your swollen clit with one hand, and the other continued to curl inside yourself. You huffed out in exasperation, “Zoro - I want you to come. Come for me.” 

“You witch - ugh!” The pressure inside Zoro burst. His face turned up towards the ceiling while his hand maintained his rhythm as his body spasmed with pleasure and his warm cum spewed out. He fucked himself against his hand through his orgasm, spreading his fluids across his still stiff member. Zoro was left breathing heavily, still drunk on his orgasm, unable to properly comprehend what exactly happened. 

Zoro’s head rolled down as he caught his breath, and his eyes finally came back up to you. Your eyes were closed tight as you also struggled to regain composure. It took Zoro a moment to realize - while he was riding off his own high - you had also reached your climax. 

You came. And he didn’t see it.

Unaware of Zoro’s disappointment, you chuckled as your world still spun around you, “Who knew you’d be the type to listen well?” You pulled your panties back over your leaking cunt, wiping your fingers on your skirt, “We’ll talk more about…” You hesitated, “whatever this was, later. Sanji says it’s time for dinner, so we’d better-”

Zoro stood, grabbed your wrist and forced you to stand. In one swift movement Zoro flipped you around, pulled your skirt to the floor, and pressed his chest hard against your back, pinning you tightly against the wall. With his knee he spread your legs apart. Your head spun from his touch. Before you had a chance to react, you could feel the sensation of something foreign slide its way between your legs. Your eyes peered down and you could make out the tip of Zoro’s cock, bright red and still covered in his own cum, rubbing against your wet underwear. 

“We’re not done here. I think it’s your turn to listen,” Zoro slurred in your ear, “and show me how well you can take it.”

His arms wrapped around your chest and stomach, effectively trapping your back against his chest. You had always been impressed by Zoro’s intimidating size and strength, but even more so since your reunion. As the muscles he had trained for two years pressed hard against your back, you couldn’t help but moan. His mouth was level with your ears and you could hear his uneven panting. Your clit was begging for attention, so you attempted to roll your hips around Zoro’s dick to create even the smallest bit of friction, but Zoro held you back. 

“You’re acting pretty needy.”

“D-Don’t be an asshole.”

“I think I’m being pretty fair,” he smirked, enjoying watching you squirm against him. 

Zoro took a step back, creating some space and your heart ached at the loss of his touch. Thankfully, the lack of touch was short lived and you gasped as Zoro pulled your panties to the side. He then handled his own dick to brush roughly against your clit before stopping right at your entrance. Zoro grabbed your hands and slammed them flat against the wall above your head 

“Now, fuck me,” Zoro growled, “Show me how you like it.”

Your heart skipped several beats before you made a move. With your own slick combined with Zoro’s cum covered cock, there was enough lubrication to easily slip the tip inside yourself. Your hips shook as you pushed your ass backwards, forcing his cock to sink further inside you. You caught your breath as you were filled with his overwhelming length, sensations of pleasure and pain mixing with each other. You knew you weren’t taking all of him, but it was all you could manage. You hesitantly fucked yourself on his cock, moving slowly as you felt yourself being torn apart. Slower than Zoro had the patience for. 

“What happened to your confidence? There’s still a long way to go.” Zoro mocked you in a strained voice. 

“Give me a break,” you squirmed under him, unwilling to stop the rhythm you had achieved, you were feeling good, “Seems to me you- ah- have it easy right now.” 

Zoro frowned at your words. Easy? He was using every ounce of his self control not to immediately come inside you. Watching your flushed back shiver underneath him as you bounced shyly in front of him was enough to make him pass out. Zoro was brought back to reality when he saw your legs begin to shake and your pace become more desperate. Right before you could reach your second climax, Zoro stepped back. 

You whined as your legs nearly gave out from the loss of his supporting hands on yours. “What was that for! I- I was so close!” You cried out in frustration. 

Zoro turned you around to face him, bringing  himself down to your eye level and slurred, “I wan’a see yer face.” His pupils were wide from arousal, and his words sent goosebumps down your spine. He looked like a wild animal. 

Zoro grabbed you by the back of your neck and crashed his lips onto yours. As much as you wanted to savor your first kiss together, it was definitely not a romantic one. The kiss was forceful and messy, his tongue found its way inside your mouth overpowering you from the inside. He moaned and hummed as he kissed you and the vibrations tickled your lips. His hands trailed everywhere along your body, tracing your neck all the way down your back, harshly gripping your ass. You struggled to appease his assertive nature, but eventually allowed yourself to be swayed by his pace. Your hands gripped his shoulders and you stood high on your toes for better access to his lips. Finally, Zoro bit down on your bottom lip, lightly tugging on it as he pulled away. 

His eyes trailed down your body, stopping at your bra. With one quick movement, your bra was torn from your body and laying in pieces on the ground. You hardly had time to be angry about your ruined clothes before Zoro shoved you down onto his cramped bunk. 

Zoro was on top of you in an instant, trailing kisses and nibbles down your neck and to your freshly exposed chest. He shoved his hand down your panties as he sloppily sucked and bit your hard nipples. You flinched back from the electric current that ran down your spine as his fingers slid against your folds. Zoro struggled underneath the fabric and finally hissed out in frustration, gripping the hem and beginning to rip away at the seams.

“Hey, wait-wait-wait! Don’t rip those, they’re my favorite pair.” You pouted. 

He looked at you, jaw clenched, “Fine,” he relented. He seized your legs and propelled your hips upward with one arm and pried your underwear down with the other. 

With your clothes out of the way he leaned back and spat on his hand and immediately plunged his fingers inside you. His face bent down again to your chest and stomach and he began leaving marks across your body. Simultaneously, Zoro pumped and curled his fingers at an excruciating pace, his fingers were far thicker than your own and it stretched your walls out in the best way. It felt incredible, but you wanted more. Wanted all of him. You wanted him to fuck you. 

“Enough- Zoro it’s enough. Please, just fuck me already.” You begged him. 

Zoro raised his head to examine your flushed face. You were sweating and stared back at him with lustful eyes.

Zoro wanted to be patient. He wanted to make you writhe beneath him as he continued to take charge as revenge from before. He wanted to do all those things, but with one look at you he lost his motivation. Zoro hastily shimmied himself out of his pants and cast them aside. Then he sat up between your legs and aligned his throbbing cock with your entrance. 

You clutched the sheets behind you and squirmed as Zoro gripped your hips tight, forcing himself deeper inside your soaking tight pussy. Zoro’s patience was long gone, and in one fell swoop he bottomed out, shoving his entire length into you. 

It was to be expected, but it quickly became clear to you that Zoro was not a gentle lover. But whatever lack of tenderness he showed through his brutish movements, was made up for in his gaze. Desperate and burning, he wanted all of you. 

You placed a hand on his chest and you could barely register what was going on around you. His size was overwhelming, rubbing and stretching every fiber of your being from your deepest core. Zoro only gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size before he pulled himself out and slammed back inside you. He watched as your face contorted with agony and lust as he continued to pound into you ruthlessly. Zoro grabbed your hand away from his chest and entangled his fingers with your own. He lifted your hand up to his mouth and ran his tongue down the back of your hand and to the tips of your fingers. 

You were getting dizzy. “Slow- ugh- down. You’re- ah! Too fast!”

“You’re shameless,” Zoro smirked. “You have’ta take responsibility for your teasing” he said showing off his teeth before leaning down and shutting you up with a sloppy kiss. He ran his tongue along your jaw, and left hickies across your neck. You moved your own hands and legs to capture him and bring him impossibly close. You needed to feel every inch of the man before you. 

Zoro felt intoxicated. Your soft body underneath his fingertips, your saliva mixing in with his own, the sweet smell of your sweat, and the way you clenched him tightly. He couldn't get enough. You were better than any liquor. 

Zoro untangled himself from your limbs and brazenly lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder. You watched greedily as he straddled your other leg and reinserted himself. The new angle reached a spot inside you that sent a shock throughout your body. Your back arched and your hands clawed at his thick thighs. Zoro reveled in the sting of your nails and reached one hand to knead your clit and with the other he held your leg tight against his chest. He let his tongue run a trail along your calf, finally stopping to sink his teeth into your muscle. You cried out, and Zoro's eyes lit up in arousal at the noise.

 You were getting close. Every touch, grind, and thrust was working its way through your body building tension in your core. Zoro watched you closely as you pinched your own nipples and your hips bucked upward to meet him halfway. He saw your eyebrows pinch together tightly as you whimpered, “Pleasepleaseplease-” the coil burned hotter and hotter.

“That’s it, let me see you come. I want to see you come for me.”

With a final gasp you reached your climax. The world around you shattered and your whole body shook as the immense pleasure overtook you. 

Zoro took in every second, every twitch and shake as he fucked you through your orgasm. As the overstimulation racked your body Zoro also reached his peak. With a few final rough thrusts, he moaned as he released inside you at the deepest point. His cock twitched as it spilled his warm cum, filling you completely. You clutched at his body pulling him onto you as you both rode out your highs. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you entangled your fingers in his hair as your thighs gripped him.  

You both lay there in each other's embrace, sweaty and panting. 

As you both calmed down and the reality of what you had just done, dozens of your conflicting emotions began swirling in your heads. Relief. Desire. Exhilaration. Panic. 

You both knew that everything had changed. But as you lay next to one another, feeling each other’s heartbeat and breath, you couldn’t help but smile. It was obvious that the two of you would not be returning to normal, but somehow, you were both ok with that. 

…

The Strawhat crew was in a great mood as they ate their dinner around the table. Luffy and Brook sang cheerfully in-between bites of Sanji’s incredible dish. The rest of the crew chowed down on their meal smiling at their captain's antics. 

Suddenly, Nami looked around perplexed. “Where's Y/N and Zoro? Luffy’s gonna eat their portions if they don't hurry.”

Robin hummed as she chewed her last bite, and shared a knowing look with Franky, who stifled a laugh. “Y/N and Zoro were sparring in the crows nest. They were finally getting back in sync so it's better we don't bother them. I'll be sure to save their portions.” Robin smiled innocently. 

⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎⚔︎

⚔︎ authors note | everyone follow @nanpecan, this wouldn't have been written without her, she slayed the first half, frobin insert, and final edit. and thank her for bullying me to actually finish writing my parts. all i want is to write silly little situations of my fav troupes so we shoved a couple in here lol. hope y'all have fun

[jade-len]

i think it'd be funny if someone transmigrated as xin mo. the goddamn evil sword. instead of taking it seriously, they just really fucked around with bingge. and, somehow, ended up having the opposite effect of what it's supposedly rumored to do.

picture this: bingge, on the quest for revenge and power, comes across the almighty xin mo. this demonic sword killed everyone that dared to even try wielding it. and, the few who were lucky enough to have it by their side, eventually succumbed to the swords' will.

it is said that the sword is unlike any other, that it etches into your head and eats away your brain, until eventually it consumes you whole. it whispers, speaking in lust, greed, and hatred. it slowly beckons the wielder into giving in to the worst part of themselves and feeds off of pure sin. but to him, it is no matter; luo bingge will surely tame it.

and then he gets to the sword.

demonic qi practically oozes from xin mo. the aura surrounding it makes every part of luo bingge scream, "run; get away, away from that monster." his gut prods at him, begging bingge that this is probably a really bad idea. it's a little terrifying, how even luo bingge, the determined, vengeful demon, is now getting second thoughts about wielding xin mo from just being in its presence alone.

but luo bingge is too, a monster. so he ignores the screams of plea; pushing every thought of doubt in the back of his head, and tightly grips onto the handle. the world around him seems to spin and shake, tumble and crack, from the amount of force bingge needs to use in order to pull the sword of sin out of its place.

when bingge finally has it perfectly fit into the palms of his calloused hands, he hears whispering. he knows that the sword has accepted him as its new host.

the sword's language crawls up to him, as if it were feeling around his body and mind. checking every nook and cranny for it to settle into bingge's form, truly becoming one with the embodiment of sin. the words flow through his brain like a tragically broken guqin, a melody that holds him in a frighteningly familiar trance - all while simultaneously eating away at his brain in the worst ways possible, akin to a child and their favorite snack. it seems to beckon something, but even with luo bingge's impressive hearing, he cannot make out any words from the tone-deaf musical notes xin mo sings.

and then, it is clear. the land around him settles, and everything is still. xin mo itself seems to be.. content. at least, that is what luo bingge believes.

the language of this wretched sword reflects the state around these two monsters.

luo bingge expects it to demand for bloodshed, for the erotic ecstasy of multiple women, for bingge to steal the last of the finest gems of these horrible, vast lands.

instead, he hears this:

"yoooo damn that shit was crazy. did you see what i did there? man, you know, it feels so fucking good to get out of the dirt. hey, do you know if people can like, feed their swords or something? i'm kinda craving something spicy. we never know, in this wack world! wait, don't hold me like that, buddy. it'll make things real awkward."

but luo bingge is determined to get his revenge, so he puts up with the swords' constant rambling about.. whatever the hell it's thinking.

"wait, dude, did you seriously fuck a dying girl? that's wild. yeah, like i know she was dying but it doesn't sound like you wanted it. yo, listen to me, consent is very sexy."

"HAHA hey, dude, sir, man. you wanna play some 'i spy'? we don't have anything else to do. no? too bad, we're playing it. i spy a loser who doesn't wanna play i spy. hint: he's holding me right now."

"okay i know i'm supposed to be this super evil sword and beg to be used - woah that sounded real wrong - but can you at least clean me when you're done killing shit? if you don't, i'm gonna refuse to respond to you and you'll look like a dumbass trying to wield me."

"i can't hear you lalalalalalala you're not being very it girl right now lallalalaalalalla-"

somehow, this is worse than if xin mo was actually eating away at his brain.

weirdly enough though, as luo bingge starts spending more time with this weird ass, seemingly possessed sword, it starts to become more of a.. comfort to have it by his side than pure annoyance. he finds himself responding to it more, like, actually having full on conversations with it. it puts him at ease, wielding xin mo. the hatred doesn't consume him, instead, it seems to soothe the burning rage (and, admittedly, just replace it with small irritation) that holds onto his darkened heart.

xin mo is actually quite kind and caring, for a sword that's supposed represent and be the literal embodiment of sin. sure, it is a hassle to have it cooperate with him sometimes, and it does just ramble on and on about the most random things ever, not giving a single shit if bingge was in the middle of sleeping with maidens and slaying those who get in his way. for the first time, bingge feels so comfortable around something.

it's.. odd. what was supposed to be the turning point in his life, a big step in his plan for revenge, is now something akin to an... acquaintance. not like mobei-jun, or any of the women he's come across, but an actual, dare he say, friend.

sometimes, he finds himself thinking all of this delusional. is this what people were driven mad by? perhaps they simply could not handle dealing with a talking sword. he understands that xin mo was undoubtedly unbearable to be around at the beginning of their alliance, but it has never actually beckoned for blood, power, and sex. if anything, it does the opposite.

maybe he's the delusional one. maybe this is xin mo's way of getting to him.

maybe, xin mo should be considered a thing. the thought feels terribly laughable, as if he were witnessing a person horribly explain themselves. it also makes his teeth grind together in pure agitation.

"hey, you know, you didn't deserve any of the things they did. it wasn't your fault, binghe. the fact that you're half heavenly demon doesn't make you a monster, or any of that wild stuff.. uh, i'm here for you, okay? i know you don't really like talking about all of this or opening up, but i just want you to know that you can.. talk about it. it's not like i can tell anyone else, anyways.

hey- shit i didn't mean to make you cry! wait, wait it's okay to cry! you need to let it out anyways, i promise it doesn't make you weak. there, there. i don't have any hands, so me patting you on the head with my handle will have to do. there, there.. everything will be alright, you'll be okay. i'll be here every step of the way, even if you want to get rid of me."

xin mo, the demonic sword, is more of a person - a good person - than anyone he'd ever come across.

...and then bingge and the xin mo transmigrator become besties or he falls for the damn sword. knowing him, he probably doesn't even know the difference between platonic and romantic attraction anyways. maybe bingge gets a plant body for xin mo using airplane's wack writing. idk i typed all of this down in one sitting.

(plot twist: it's not that the transmigrator xin mo had the opposite effect, it was literally just a placebo effect. luo bingge thought that, and thus it actually did help him lmao)

[ivyithink]

okay, but armand getting to see baby!vamp lestat? still so excited about how different the world is to a vampire?? teaching him stuff and witnessing the joy that brings???

[nenoname]

stan twins the canon cptsd brothers i will always think about all your unaddressed issues that would make perfect plot fuel for your spinoff

and also the whole 'stan getting that poem by bill via a website which contrasts with bill getting one from the axolotl via a website' foreshadowing thing

like idk i would love something like su future but like more optimistic, aka not an accumulated breakdown that has to be mostly resolved off screen at the end :/// but something thats being kinda addressed throughout? (although would love to see one of them turn into a monster thats always fun lol)

stan having severe issues from his dad and those years of being homeless that we keep on getting more info on but never really getting confronted on (the drifter catalogue and tijuana incident...), him being completely alone for like twenty years when running the shack before soos comes along to the point that 1998 is noted as his low point, and him not really learning about bill+what he did to ford until ages after he killed him if he ever did get the full context

while i think amnesia and everyone seeing him as a hero actually helped with stan's 'i'm a worse version of my brother' thing its still a lingering issue too and we now got him being insecure over his own hands

ford being immediately thrown from 'being tortured by bill' to 'being stuck in the multiverse and being chased by bounty hunters constantly', him fully expecting himself to die when destroying bill, and him only now being safe for the first time in 30 years ....relatively safe, he's still in constant danger because of course he is

idk in the end the series wants them to be happy and they deserve it, its why i wasn't too worried about the book being like 'ooh bill is back!! and the book is haunting ford' thing cos i knew they'll be ok

[radiantmists]

Haven't finished my day one fic but here's my entry for @charles-rowland-week Day 2: Chorb!

I see a lot of cute orb-ghost content and love it, but for some reason when I sat down to write my brain went: that experience must be terrifying on both ends. Especially if it happens when they're pushed to the brink, a circumstance that otherwise leads to ghosts just... dissolving. Especially the first time.

So here's the first time!

***

Charles can't remember how he got here; he hasn't really got any idea where here is, except that the ground he's lying on is too hard and the light is so bright it burns his eyes whenever he opens them.

Though that might actually be something wrong with his eyes, judging by how much the rest of him hurts. He must have pissed someone off real bad, to be in this much pain, but he can't remember who or why. He hopes it was worth it.

"Charles," says a voice, a voice he knows. Edwin's here, and he sounds upset, and like he's trying to hide it. Charles manages to pry his eyes open for half a moment before the searing pain forces them shut again, but in that brief second he gets a glimpse of Edwin-- just his neck and the bottom of his face, the harsh press of his mouth.

Charles has seen that expression before, knows it comes along with wide eyes that give away what might look like frustration otherwise; this is the face Edwin makes when he's terrified.

Edwin shouldn't be terrified. Charles tries to reach for where he thinks he was, to comfort him, but just the idea of moving his arm reminds him of how much his shoulders hurt, and he half-screams before he can swallow the sound.

"Charles, just-- just lie still a moment," Edwin says beyond the roaring of his ears, and it shouldn't be a hard request with how much moving hurts, but Charles doesn't think he can bear to lie here like this much longer, the ground digging into him and the pain burning through his bones.

There's something wrong about that. Charles shouldn't be able to feel the ground, however hard it is; he doesn't actually have bones to burn.

He's dead, but he's still hurting, somehow, and that doesn't seem fair, does it? He'd sort of thought he'd escaped it, for a while. Maybe a little pain was the cost of being alive, but now-- unable to feel any good thing-- it just feels cruel.

He's so tired of hurting.

"Charles," Edwin's voice breaks through again, only this time the tone is different, somewhere beyond fear. "Charles, please, don't-- please just stay--"

His voice breaks on the plea. Because he is pleading, which is all kinds of wrong. Edwin doesn't beg when he's terrified; he goes silent and still like a hunted rabbit, which Charles hates with all his being but he hates this too. Edwin shouldn't beg. He shouldn't have to, not with Charles, who has embarked on the afterlife-long project of making him as happy as possible.

Not going anywhere, he tries to say, but his mouth doesn't want to obey him and instead he just sort of groans. He can't move his fingers-- he's not sure he has fingers, right now. They don't hurt anymore, but he can't really feel them either.

He remembers that: losing his fingers first, then his toes, then more and more. Edwin had been there then, too, strange and funny and unbelievably kind, and Charles hadn't had the chance to worry about his toes. Edwin had given him that gift, the gift of not being scared, and then he'd tried to run off like it was nothing, like after all that he'd thought Charles would just leave Edwin to the lingering terror in his eyes when he spoke of Hell.

That terror has never left completely, despite Charles' best efforts. He's started to think it never will, and the thought hurts, but at least he'd thought it was getting better; except now Edwin is terrified, and he's the one begging Charles to stay. He's still talking, somewhere beyond the pain, and though Charles can't make out the words, that heartbreaking tone is still there.

Charles isn't leaving him. He refuses. But he can't bear this either, the pain making it so hard to think, to remember. Edwin's voice is a lifeline, but it's getting more and more difficult to hear it, and he's not sure it's just the ringing anymore.

He's a ghost. He doesn't have ears to ring, not really, or bones to ache or eyes to burn when he opens them. Piece by piece, half on purpose and half unable to hold on, he lets it all slip away, until all that's left is the conviction: whatever happens, he wants to stay.

It feels a little like changing his hair, the way Edwin had taught him, just holding on to what he wants until that's what he is.

Mostly, though, it feels like dying.

***

He knows less and more, like this. He doesn't know where he is, and there's no feeling to help him guess, no pain or light or voice in the ears he doesn't have anymore. He doesn't know how he got here, doesn't know how long he's been here, doesn't even know who he is, really.

But he's not confused, because what he knows is this: he's dead, and it's not fucking fair, because he had so much left to do. He knows he was going to do better, that he was going to fix things, and now he'll never have the chance. Part of him seethes at that, and part of him just wants to take the hint and stop trying.

Except he also knows, somehow, that he does have another chance. That he's still here, even if he can't feel or taste or smell-- or even see or hear. That he can move things, somehow, change them, sometimes even fix them. He can solve crimes and save lives and on very good days he can make Edwin laugh.

He remembers that, the last time he'd made Edwin laugh-- just a little chuckle, really, but helplessly sincere, and the smile had stayed on his lips when he'd said, really, Charles--

The world unfolds around that voice speaking his name, first just memory into sound and then the awareness of ears to hear it, of a head to turn toward it and arms to push himself up, of something soft and forgiving under his palms, and of eyes he can open to see Edwin's face, remarkably close and blinking with surprise that, as Charles watches, collapses into relief.

"You came back," Edwin breathes. From this close, Charles can see the tears well in his eyes. Edwin, who he's seen burn half his hand off without even noticing, is crying over Charles.

It's not really a choice, to reach out with hands that still look a little misty and pull Edwin close. Edwin clutches him back, curling his hands in the back of Charles' shirt and tucking his chin over Charles's shoulder like if he just holds Charles close enough, he can hold him together.

Maybe he can. Charles curls his own fingers into Edwin's coat, breathes deep just to feel his ribs expand into Edwin's grip, ghost-cool but firm and real, real, real.

"I was afraid you were gone," Edwin says.

I was too, Charles doesn't say.

"Told you," he murmurs instead, "you're stuck with me."

[thefriendoforatioisdead]

Wan and Pleng have this really cute dynamic going on where Wan is being creepy and Pleng goes ''Wan...What did I tell you about being controlling, jealous and slightly scary ?'' and that' enough for Wan to calm down and think about kissing her instead while the rest of the world watches in absolute terror

[fawnsflowerbed]

everyone always writes about puppy or bunny which is CUTE!!! But. what about kitty reader?

KITTY READER!!!!!

NUDGING THEIR CUTE LITTLE BUTT AND LEGS UP AGAINST LEON TO SHOW SMIDGES OF CASUAL LOVE, PURRING AS THEY BUTT THEIR HEAD AGAINST HIS SHOULDER!!!!!! RUBBING THEIR FACE ALL OVER HIM WHEN HE GETS OUT OF THE SHOWER TO RESTORE HIS ‘NATURAL’ SMELL!!!!! CHIRPING AT THE BIRDS OUTSIDE THE WINDOW AND MEOWING ENDLESSLY AT 12AM FOR LEON TO PET THEM AS THEY EAT!!!! KITTY READER HATING BATHS AND GRUMBLING AND GROWLING AS LEON CHUCKLES!!!

LEON DANGLING HIS MOTORCYCLE KEYS ABOVE THEM AS A FORM OF ENRICHMENT AS THEY LAY ON THEIR BACK BATTING AT IT!! KITTY READER PURRS ON LEON’S CHEST AS HE SLEEPS SO HE GETS BETTER REST KNOWING HE HAS HIS SWEETHEART WITH HIM!!!!

KITTY READERRRR!!!!

[walkingstackofbooks]

"Are you happier? Now that the war is over?"

It had been meant as a serious question, but from the look on Kira's face, she hadn't caught onto that. "What sort of question is that, 'am I happier'?" she asked, laughing a little as she spoke. "Of course I am! Who isn't?"

Shrugging, Julian forced himself to smile back at her. "No, of course," he agreed. "Silly question."

His smile clearly hadn't been convincing: Kira's own smile had faded as she looked at him more closely, her eyebrows creasing into a frown.

"Have I done something to make you think I'm not?" she asked sharply. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No-- no, nothing like that," Julian said hurriedly. "I mean, obviously Odo's gone now, and Keiko and the Chief, and Worf, and... and the Captain... But that-- That's different, isn't it, I guess. You can be sad and happy at the same time, right?"

He cringed, knowing that he hadn't quite managed to make sense there: years of practice had made him very good at recognising Kira's 'baffled' expression.

"All these years," said Kira, slowly shaking here head, "and I still don't understand you, sometimes. Of course I miss Odo, and the others -- and while we're at it, of course I'm still angry and-- and upset about the things that happened during the war..." She made a face, banging her fist lightly against the table. "Damn you, you know I'm no good with feelings, that's... there's a lot more there, besides," she added. "And I'm sure as hell not going into that right now...

"But if you're asking whether I'd rather be here, now, living without the threat of the Dominion or the Cardassians, knowing my friends are alive and safe -- and if they're not, at least being able to mourn them in peace, not having to make decisions that could get us all killed if it goes even slightly wrong... or if I'd rather be back there, in the war -- well. It's no contest, is it?"

"In theory, no, of course--"

"In theory?" Kira asked incredulously. "Julian, are you saying you were happier in the war?"

"No!" he exclaimed: that hadn't been what he'd meant at all. "The war was-- it was... Well, you couldn't be happy during the war, could you? Everything was too awful, it was impossible."

"A lot of the time, yeah," Kira said softly. "And that's gonna stick with us for a long time -- but they're only memories, now. We made it."

"We did," Julian said quietly, his eyes fixed on the table. "I just... I thought I'd be happier, I guess. Now that it's all over."

Kira reached forward, brushing her hand over his. "That's what this is all about?" she asked. "You aren't happy?"

"I never said I'm not," Julian objected hotly, looking back up at her -- but a sigh slipped out of him as he realised he didn't actually have an argument, and he shook his head, slumping back into his chair. Kira watched him, not saying anything.

"No, you're right," he admitted, pulling his arms across himself, almost too tight. "I know I'm supposed to be-- I know, after everything, it's so stupid... But, Nerys, I don't-- I don't think I am?"

Stopping to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat, he noticed he eyes had grown wet, which for some reason made him chuckle. "Isn't that silly?" he asked, leaning forward again. "We won the war, but I'm still not happy."

"No, Julian," Kira replied slowly. "I don't think that's silly at all. It's just... It's just very, very sad." She took a breath, reaching out to hold both his hands this time. "I'm sorry," she continued. "I didn't know."

"It's not your fault," he said, squeezing her hands tightly. "For a while, I just thought everyone else was pretending, too, so I just went along with it... And then I started to realise that no, you were all actually at least a little bit okay, and so I had to keep pretending, because happiness is so fragile and I didn't, you know, want to make anyone else feel bad just because I..."

He trailed off, shrugging a little. "I don't know, Nerys. I guess I just wanted to check that it wasn't just me, but it is just me, and now I've told you, and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad--"

"Julian, no," Kira interrupted. "Thank you for sharing this with me -- I'm glad you told me, okay?"

Ears growing hot, Julian ducked his head, not quite sure to do with the wave of emotion spilling over him. Now that he'd told her some of it, he kind of wanted to let everything out. Distractedly, he started tracing patterns on her hands, pushing into them with increasing intensity.

"It's just-- I'm just..." He stumbled over his words, struggling to give voice to the one thought that he'd been trying to ignore for months. "What if this is it for me? What if I'm like this forever? It's been years, Nerys--"

To his horror, his voice cracked, and he covered his mouth, trying to hold back the sobs that were threatening to burst out. Hoping that no-one else had noticed, he looked around the replimat; thankfully the other diners seemed more interested in their own conversations than in him and Kira.

"Would you like to go somewhere less public?" Kira asked. Not quite trusting himself to speak, he nodded, and together they left the replimat.

As they walked down the promenade and up to the habitat ring, Kira steered clear of their previous conversation, chatting about the station, her week, her latest grievance with Quark, and Julian was grateful for the respite. But as soon as they were sat down in her quarters, she turned to him with a most serious expression.

"It isn't right, you feeling like that, you know," she said. "I don't have the answers, I don't know how it gets better -- but we both know someone who would. You haven't tried telling Ezri any of this, have you?"

Julian's stomach tightened: Ezri was the last person he wanted to have this particular conversation with. "Oh, yes, because that would go so well," he retorted sarcastically. "Hi Ezri, I love you, but you don't make me happy. Don't worry, it's not you, I'm just unhappy most of the time. Most of the time? Yeah, it gets better when I'm around you, because then I just kind of feel... nothing. What an improvement!"

"Julian..." whispered Kira, but it was all coming out now and Julian couldn't make it stop. He rose from the sofa, starting to pace as he spoke.

"Did you ever make me happy? Maybe, sweetheart, but I'm not even certain of that. I might have been so desperate for anything even resembling happiness that I just deluded myself into thinking I was in love... Do I even love you? Who the fuck knows, Ezri. Is love even real, or did it die in the war along with every-fucking-thing else?"

His voice had risen louder than he'd intended, condemning him with every word it pushed forcefully into the air. He'd made Kira cry, he thought, but he couldn't quite be sure, his vision being clouded by his own mess of tears.

"How could I possibly tell her that?" he asked, sitting back down heavily, his voice dropping to a hollow whisper. "Kira, how the hell do I tell her that?"

"Come here," she said in way of a response, pulling him against her and holding him tightly, so that he could feel her lips move against his hair as she answered him. "I don't know," she was saying, "but you have to, Julian. I can be there with you if you want but, Prophets, Julian, you have to. How could you not?"

How could he not?

Julian closed his eyes and let himself fall apart against his friend, not even bothering to try to answer her. It was terrifying, after all this time, to finally allow someone to see how broken he really was, but he was far, far too tired to keep it in any longer.

[nerdallwritey]

About to Strike (Part 2)

***IMPORTANT! PLEASE NOTE: This is Part 2 to Part 6 (it makes sense, I promise) of my Beauty and the Bard series! Find Part 1 of this chapter here. If you'd rather read it all in one go, it's also posted to AO3.

Summary: “Oh,” he said smoothly, his features settling into a seductive smirk. “Giving me a ring so soon, my sweet? I’m flattered.” He plucked the ring from your hand and attempted to slide it onto his fingers. “Alas,” he sighed dramatically, “it’s too small - something I've never had trouble with in the past.” You made a face and smacked him lightly on his bicep, causing him to laugh. He caught your hand in his and examined your fingers. “I suppose you’ll have to wear it instead.”  He slid the ring onto your pinky gently.  It was a perfect fit.  The two of you stared down at it for a moment, a quiet tension hanging in the air. “Mine,” he breathed, turning the ring over and over around your finger.  “Yours,” you confirmed, bringing a hand to his cheek and looking him in the eyes. OR You and Astarion have a room to yourselves at the Last Light Inn. What happens next?

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 21.3k (This particular part is 10.6k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex,piv sex, oral (male receiving), hand job, vaginal fingering, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, protective Astarion, soft Astarion, whimpering Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), lots of party banter, AND JAHEIRA!! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 and 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 Last chance to go back to Part 1 of this chapter!

a/n: So sorry to be posting another tumblr two parter. Once I started writing, I simply couldn't stop. Thank you if you made it this far! Your reward is once again smut! I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!)

The room was fairly cozy; a full sized bed was made neatly in the back left corner by a door that led out into the wrap-around porch that surrounded the inn, while an upholstered couch sat in front of a large window, and a storage chest was hidden behind an ornate screen, full of alchemical materials and a few gold pieces. 

You set your backpack down and removed your armor, taking note of the contents of the room and pausing when you saw Astarion on his hands and knees by the bed. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, shutting the curtains on the window and raising your eyebrows at him as he held his ear to the ground. 

“Shh, shh, shh, quiet darling,” he said softly and knocked on the board below his ear. His eyes lit up when the wood made a hollow sound. “Just as I thought!” He sat up on his knees and pried at the edge of the board until it lifted to reveal a small hiding cubby for valuables underneath. He flashed you a winning grin before reaching his arm down into the hole blindly.

You sat on the bed to get a better angle as you watched and leaned forward to brush your hands through his hair. 

“Aha! Found something!” he said assuredly before retracting his arm to share his findings with you. He opened his hand to reveal a crumpled letter and a tarnished ring. 

You snorted. “A thrilling yield,” you said, patting his shoulder, “well done.”

Astarion let out a frustrated exhale. “Maybe the ring is worth something?” he tossed the letter aside, which you picked up and scanned quickly. 

“This Ketheric Thorm guy seems to be no joke,” you said absently, reflecting on the contents of the letter. The author wrote of feeling stuck at the inn on their way to Baldur’s Gate, and of how the people from the nearby village were on edge whenever they were asked about Ketheric. It had clearly been written long ago.

Astarion had one eye closed and inspected the ring closely. “Yes, yes, he’s a brute and a hellion, blah blah blah, we can worry about that tomorrow.” He opened his eye again and turned to you. “Tell me, dear, what does this say?”

He handed you the ring, which was ice cold when you held it in your palm. You sensed that it was full of ice magic, and took a closer look at the inside of the band. A series of names had been scratched out, one after the other. The last word, however, was untouched, and not a name.

“‘Mine,’” you read aloud. 

Astarion was already up and looking for more items hidden within the room. “You don’t need to lay claim to it,” he said, inspecting an emerald ring that he found on the dresser, “it’s worthless. You can have it.”

You laughed. “No,” you said, getting up and walking over to him. You held the ring between your thumb and index finger, angling it in front of his face to where the inscription could be read in the candle light. “Mine,” you repeated. 

“Oh,” he said smoothly, his features settling into a seductive smirk. “Giving me a ring so soon, my sweet? I’m flattered.” He plucked the ring from your hand and attempted to slide it onto his fingers. “Alas,” he sighed dramatically, “it’s too small - something I've never had trouble with in the past.” You made a face and smacked him lightly on his bicep, causing him to laugh. He caught your hand in his and examined your fingers. “I suppose you’ll have to wear it instead.” 

He slid the ring onto your pinky gently. 

It was a perfect fit. 

The two of you stared down at it for a moment, a quiet tension hanging in the air.

“Mine,” he breathed, turning the ring over and over around your finger. 

“Yours,” you confirmed, bringing a hand to his cheek and looking him in the eyes. 

His hand came up to meet yours and his eyes were half lidded when you closed the distance and kissed him fiercely. Your tongue flicked out to prod at his bottom lip and he gladly opened for you with a rumble low in his chest. He pulled you closer by the hips and shuffled you backwards toward the bed.

“Mine,” he repeated between breaths. “You’re mine,” he growled and pushed you backwards with enough force to make you fall onto the bed. You yelped gleefully and repositioned yourself to be more comfortable as he climbed on top of you. He continued to kiss you eagerly; all over your face, jaw, and throat.

“Aren’t you…” your breathing was heavy and your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “aren’t you scared of hurting me?”

Astarion paused his kisses and pulled back to look at you. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all,” you exhaled, pulling him back down by the collar of his shirt and kissing him clumsily as you threw your arms around his neck. 

He moaned weakly against your mouth. “I’ve missed you,” he said, moving down to drag his fangs along your throat. 

“Bite me,” you sighed, angling your head to give him better access to feed. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” he cooed and clicked his tongue. “If this night continues how I think it’s going to, then I’d rather taste you-” he moved his mouth to your ear and said lowly, “-while I’m inside of you.”

You shivered and threw your hands over your face, whining pathetically. “From anyone else, that would have been terrible.”

“Mmm,” he hummed as he nuzzled his nose along your jawline. “But you can’t leave now. I’ve given you a ring, which you’ve foolishly accepted.”

“Ah,” you nodded slowly, “trapped by societal expectations. Curses!” You held your fist up to the sky, cursing no one in particular. “Though, that means you’re trapped with me, too.”

Astarion continued kissing you, making a noise of affirmation against your mouth. “A shame, considering I can’t stand you,” he rolled his hips, causing you to inhale sharply when you felt how hard he already was. “Ignore that, that has nothing to do with my hatred for you.”

“I can tell,” you teased, palming at his shirt. 

He took the hint and sat up to pull the fabric over his head.

You watched him, your eyes roaming all over his unfairly beautiful body, until they landed on his left thigh and you gasped. 

“You’re bleeding!” 

“I’m what?” Astarion looked himself over, but fell backwards when you sprang off the bed to run towards your backpack.

“You’re bleeding,” you said again, shuffling back over to him with your bag in hand and rummaging through your belongings to find the salve and bandages you’d been using on your own wound. 

Astarion now saw the crimson stain on the front of his leg, complete with a slash through the fabric of his pants. “And I just mended these,” he sighed.

“Take them off,” you instructed, tapping his right thigh.

He smirked. “Are you sure, darling? You might like what you see.”

You gave him a look that said “I’m being serious,” and he groaned.

“Fine.” He stood and undid the clasps of his trousers before shimmying out of them and dropping them ungracefully onto the floor next to him. He sat back down on the bed and you did your best not to stare at his erection. He rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to bite you,” he said. “Though I certainly intend to.” He raised his eyebrows seductively.

You nodded absently at his comment, to which he muttered, “Oh, you’re no fun,” and began to assess his wound. It looked as though it had stopped bleeding hours ago, but the fact remained that he had gotten injured in the first place. You got up again and walked over to the wash basin in the corner of the room to retrieve water to clean the blood. 

“When did you get this?” You knelt in front of him with the wet cloth and began to gently dab at the injury. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He shrugged, watching your hands. “I suppose I got it from one of those cultists we battled earlier. But my armor was too dark to see the blood.”

“You didn’t feel it?” you asked.

Astarion laughed humorlessly. “I’ve felt more pain in my life than anyone should ever have to.” Your hands froze at that. He sighed. “I may have felt something slash me, but obviously it wasn’t enough to take me down.”

“Obviously,” you smiled up at him sadly. 

He looked back at you fondly and brushed his fingers across your cheekbone. Then he furrowed his brow. “If I’m not mistaken, you know a healing spell or two that could make quick work of this scratch.”

It was hardly a scratch. An injury like this would have downed a weaker man. Or at least made it harder for him to walk. It wasn’t a very deep wound, but you had no doubt that it had been painful.

You felt your cheeks go red. “I do have some healing spells…”

“But…?”

“But… you took such good care of me while I was healing, I feel like I should return the favor.” You looked back up at him shyly. 

He was watching you smugly and sitting back on his hands. “Go on then,” he nodded his head towards the salve you were about to spread over the wound. 

You pressed your lips into a line and focused on covering the entire injured area tenderly, but effectively. “I can still cast a healing spell if you’d prefer.”

“Oh no, dear,” his laugh was real this time, “I’d much rather experience your soft touches and longing glances than one quick blip from the weave.”

“I always knew you only wanted me for my soft touches and longing glances,” you teased. 

“Call me old fashioned,” he shrugged with a smirk. 

“Astarion!” you gasped, reaching for the salve and spreading a generous amount on his thigh. “You shouldn’t call yourself old. You don’t look a day over two hundred and fifty!”

“Very funny,” he narrowed his eyes at you. “But I’m not two hundred and fifty!”

You tilted your head, concealing a smile. “You’re not? My apologies.” 

“And to think I was going to allow you to have sex with me tonight.” He sat up and crossed his arms. “Pity. Your loss.”

As an act of rebellion, you reached forward and squeezed his cock through his underwear. Astarion let out a pathetic whine and his entire body tensed. 

He looked at you and furrowed his brow. “Warn a man, would you?”

“Sorry,” you said genuinely, hiding behind an awkward smile. 

He bounced his left leg, bringing your attention back to the wound. “Now hurry up and wrap my damn leg.” 

You nodded and began to wind the bandages you’d collected around his thigh. “Is this tight enough?” you asked after a few wraps. 

Astarion nodded, once again watching your hands. “Yes, darling. You make a marvelous nursemaid.”

Your eyes wandered as you continued to wrap the wound. His thighs were more muscular than you’d ever noticed. Being this up close and personal with them made you appreciate just how powerful he was. You’d never admit that to him, lest it go to his head, but in these past weeks since you’d met him, all the running, and fighting, and crouching in preparation to strike enemies, had really paid off. 

Hesitantly, you leaned forward and kissed the tender skin on the inside of his thigh. 

He inhaled shakily in response. “Easy,” he said on an equally shaky exhale. 

Slowly, you placed another kiss inside his thigh, higher this time, all the while still wrapping his wound. You watched his face intently.

He was focused completely on you, his pupils blown wide.

You kissed him again, even higher. “Does that feel nice?” you asked.

“Don’t be si-illy,” he rolled his eyes but his voice caught when you kissed him again. “Of course it feels nice.”

“Good,” you smiled and licked a stripe from the middle of his thigh, up to the top, bringing your face dangerously close to his bulge. You were pretty sure you saw it twitch.

Astarion shuddered. “Gods above…”

You tucked the bandage into itself and tugged it a little to make sure it was sturdy. When you were satisfied, you stood up fully and wrapped your arms around Astarion’s neck.

“There,” you said quietly, stepping between his legs. You watched his mouth before finding his eyes again. “All better.”

Astarion nodded wordlessly, watching your mouth in turn.

“Tell me next time you’re hurt,” you leaned your forehead against his.

“Careful what you wish for, darling,” he purred. “I may willingly step in front of an arrow if it means I get to have your attention all to myself.” He went to kiss you but you pulled back with a laugh.

“As if you don’t always have my attention.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Sometimes you speak to the others.” He pouted, adding, “It’s awful.” 

You mirrored his pout. “Poor thing.”

He pulled you closer by the hips and kissed your clothed stomach. “Enough stalling,” he reached for the hem of your shirt. “I’ve waited long enough to have you again.”

When he went to pull your shirt up, you halted his wrists. He looked up at you curiously.

“What’s the matter, my sweet?”

You took a step back and fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “It’s nothing.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow at you. “Somehow, I don’t believe that.”

You exhaled through your nose. “It’s just that… well… I know you’ve seen every part of me-”

“Yes.”

“-and that you liked what you saw.”

“Oh, yes.”

“But now…” you waved your hands through the air, trying to say what you wanted to say without sounding stupid. “Now I’ve got this scar.” You held a hand to the wound on your right side. 

It had been a few days now that you’d gone without wrapping the injury. The skin had healed and no longer bled, now it was just a matter of stretching and continuing to let your body heal itself. But it also meant that you saw the remnants of your near death experience every time you looked down. Not to mention the twin wound on your back. You didn’t like seeing the scar, which honestly could have been much more gruesome, but it only served as a reminder of how badly you’d messed up that day. You hated remembering the terrified look on Astarion’s face when he cradled you on the battlefield, or the way he held you close as he ran for help. The whole thing was just… ugly.

And yet, Astarion laughed. 

“You seem to forget who you’re talking to, darling.”

You scrunched your nose at him. “Your scars are a horrible reminder of everything you’ve gone through at the hands of that horrible man. Mine are from a mistake I made that scared the hells out of the person I l- care for the most. You’re a survivor, I’m just… a problem.” 

“Dearest, you’re someone who also survived.” Astarion stood from the bed. 

You avoided his gaze. “But it’s my fault it happened in the first place. You didn’t sign up for this.” You gestured to your torso and rested a hand over where the scar was hidden under your shirt. 

“No,” he said softly, bending to kiss your neck. “But you’re someone who I’ll choose again and again, regardless of some trivial blemish.”

You froze and watched him pull away, noting that soft look in his eye that you loved so much. “Really?”

He rolled his eyes and placed his hands on the hem of your shirt again. “May I?”

You twisted the ring on your pinky to distract yourself. “Okay.”

Astarion bent to kiss your lips softly, then carefully pulled the shirt over your head. 

The scar cut diagonally across your appendix region, pink and shining ever so slightly in the candle light.

“Do you know why I love this scar?” Astarion sank to his knees before you, never breaking eye contact with you. 

Your breath caught in your throat. Instead of making some sort of snarky remark about what he’d just said as a means of deflection, you merely shook your head. 

“I love this scar-” he leaned forward to kiss the tender skin, “-because, like your heartbeat, it means you're still here.” He kissed across your stomach. “With me.” He took your hand and fiddled with the ring on your finger. “Mine.” He looked up at you smugly.

You let out a breathy laugh. “You’re going to be insufferable about that, aren’t you?” 

“Absolutely,” he said, narrowing his eyes seductively and standing up to kiss your mouth again. 

You whimpered lamely when he slid his tongue into your mouth and turned to push you gently onto the bed. Once you were comfortably lying among the pillows, he climbed on top of you again and continued kissing you slowly. 

“Are you okay?” he asked against your lips.

“Uh huh,” you exhaled, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Good,” he whispered, and rolled his hips against your pelvis, reminding you of his desire.

You tangled your leg around his. “Astarion…” you sighed.

He was kissing across your jaw, rolling his hips slowly. “Yes, sweet girl?”

“I want to try something,” you placed a hand on his chest to gently signal for him to stop his kisses.

“Oh?” he smirked. “Feeling experimental, are we?”

You nodded shyly, then pushed lightly on his shoulder to get him to pull away from you. “Take my spot,” you said, sitting up and gesturing for him to lie down where you had just been. 

“What are you planning?” he asked with a smile and obediently took your place at the head of the bed. “Riding me again? Bondage of some kind? Or perhaps something you read in one of Shadowheart’s cheap paperbacks?”

You sat back on your knees between his legs. “I told you that you took such good care of me when I was hurt,” you rubbed your hands up and down his thighs, careful to avoid his wrapped cut, “now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “Is it, now? And I’m assuming this doesn’t involve wrapping some other wound I haven’t noticed.” 

You shook your head. “Do you trust me?”

He let out an amused breath through his nose. “Of course I do.” Then he added, “But don’t make me regret it.”

You grinned at him and marveled at the way he watched you, so open and unafraid. It made your heart soar. You cleared your throat. 

“I’ll need your help,” you dipped your head bashfully. 

“Anything,” he said, not taking his eyes off your face. 

You leaned forward and kissed his clothed cock.

“Ohhh,” he sighed blissfully. “You’re very sweet, darling, but you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” you said, kissing him again.

Astarion closed his eyes and arched his back a little, chasing the warmth your lips left behind. When he opened his eyes, he looked almost embarrassed by the neediness his hips had given away.

“Please,” you said softly. “I want nothing more than to take care of you, my love.”

He remained silent as he considered your offer.

“Show me how,” you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his underwear and felt him shiver beneath you.

Then you watched the mask go up with a seductive arch of his eyebrow. “Yes, I suppose we can give it a try,” Astarion said, his voice airy and detached. 

You immediately crawled up the bed to hover over his face. He looked back at you with a alluring smirk. “Hey,” you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “It’s me.” You brushed his cheek with the back of your knuckles. “You’re safe.”

Astarion stared at you before shaking his head mildly and smiling. “I know,” he said. “I want this.”

You bent and kissed him deeply, reaching a hand up to massage the tip of his left ear. 

He moaned quietly and you felt his hips bump yours, seeking friction. “Please,” he whispered.

You gave him a sideways smile before shimmying back down his body and hooking your fingers under his waistband again. 

“Wait,” he interrupted. 

You paused. “What’s wrong?”

He pouted - something you realized he did quite a lot, now that you thought about it. “I miss your breasts.”

You snorted and crawled up to him once more. “Would you care to do the honors?” You hovered above him, low enough that he could reach behind your back and undo the clasps of your bra. 

“More than anything,” he murmured. Almost as soon as he answered was the clothing off your body and on the floor next to the bed. He sat up a little and took one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Hey!” you laughed and pushed him away. “Bad.” You pointed a scolding finger at him. “I’m supposed to be pleasuring you.”

Astarion smiled, half lidded. “Apologies, darling. You’re too delicious, and I’ve missed your taste.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you deflected and tried once more to travel down his hips. “Is this okay?” you asked, once more hooking your fingers under his waistband.

“Yes, my sweet.” His voice was soft and genuine, with the slightest twinge of eagerness. 

You nodded and pulled at his undergarments, working them down his hips and onto the floor next to you. When his cock emerged, it was red and swollen, leaking precum at the tip. You tried not to look intimidated by this new, somewhat daunting task that laid before you, but Astarion saw your expression and laughed. 

“Is it as pretty as you remembered?” he asked, barely containing his mirth. 

“Gorgeous,” you teased. “Now tell me what to do.”

He laughed again. “Well, when I was pleasuring another man, I’d start with my hands. They usually enjoyed that.”

You tilted your head to the side. “But is that what you like to start with?”

“I-” he paused. “A good question. I was rarely on this end of things. But… Yes, I do enjoy your hands on me. You’re warm. And you moisturize.”

Now you laughed. “Glad you noticed.”

“You’re wonderfully soft, my dear,” he confirmed. “Now… do you remember what I’ve shown you before?”

“Yes,” you said and reached forward, taking his shaft into your hand and squeezing slightly. 

“Ah,” Astarion shut his eyes and smiled. “Good.”

You moved your hand upwards towards the head and twisted, gathering some of his precum and spreading it down his length as you brought your hand back down. 

“That’s it,” he said softly, his eyes still closed. “The tip is particularly sensitive.”

You nodded, not that he could see you, and raised your hand up again to swipe your thumb over his slit.

“Oh, yes, that feels amazing,” he opened his eyes to watch you with a lopsided grin. “May I show you something?”

“Please,” you said, pulling your hand away. 

“No no,” he shook his head and lifted himself up with one arm. “Give me your hand,” he held his out and you allowed him to guide you back towards his cock. “Right here,” he said, leading your hand to the underside of the head where it connected with his shaft, “feels marvelous when you stroke it gently. Like this.” He took your thumb and ran it over the skin lightly, back and forth. He exhaled, blowing cool air into your face before lying back down. “Just like that,” he sighed, his voice gravelly. 

Feeling brave, you kept lightly stroking the area and spat into your free hand before wrapping it around his length and pumping up and down. 

Astarion inhaled sharply at the sensation. “I see you’re not completely in the- ah- the dark.”

You smiled. “I may have been reading some of Shadowheart’s cheap paperbacks, yes.”

He laughed airly. “You’re adorable.” 

“Am I?” you asked mischievously before repositioning yourself between his legs so that you were now lying on your stomach, your hands never stopping their motions. You leaned forward and replaced the hand at his tip with your tongue, swiping back and forth repeatedly. He tasted of salt and sweat and something that you’d describe as distinctly Astarion.

His body jerked involuntarily. “Why you…” He leaned up to look at you and noted the glee in your eyes. “Cheeky,” he chuckled. 

You kissed the tip of his cock and licked at his slit, which was still weeping precum. 

“Unf,” Astarion whined. 

You hummed lightly. “Does that feel good?” Your left hand was still pumping up and down, and you bent to kiss the underside of his cock.

“Yes,” he sighed, reaching forward to twist a hand into your hair. “But darling,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “I may need more.”

“Would you like my mouth?” you asked bluntly.

He eyed you curiously. “Do you really want to?”

You rolled your eyes and licked his slit again. “No, clearly not.” 

Astarion laughed shakily. “Then, if you’re offering, there’s nothing I’d like more than your mouth.”

“Good,” you smiled. “You’ll have to help me. There’s only so much a paperback can teach you.”

“I don’t know, what you were doing felt pretty good,” he smiled.

“I’m being serious,” you said. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“How sweet,” he twisted his hand more tightly into your hair. “Of course I’ll help, sweet girl.”

You turned your head towards his hand in your hair and kissed his wrist. “What first?”

“First,” he said, “you need to relax. Let go of the tension in your shoulders.”

“Okay,” you nodded and focused on relaxing your muscles. “I just want to get this right.”

“And you will, pet, but I can promise you that this will be much more enjoyable for both of us if you’re out of your own head.”

You scoffed. “Me? Thinking too much? How dare you.”

“Mmm,” Astarion hummed teasingly. “My mistake.” He took in your eager expression and chuckled again. “Rather than trying to fit me in your mouth all in one go, I find that it’s quite useful to tease first. Like what you were just doing with your kissing and licking. That feels remarkable.”

“Kissing and licking,” you repeated. “Got it.”

“And then,” he continued, “when you think you’re ready, you can slowly start taking me into your mouth. But be wary of your teeth and choking.” He thought for a moment before adding “And pay attention to me.”

“Is that not what this is?”

He gave you a mildly annoyed, but unsurprised look. “Yes, clearly. I mean, listen to your partner. Their voice and body will usually give away if they’re feeling good and what they like best.”

“Kiss, lick, mouth, careful of choking, listen to you. I think I can do that.”

“Teeth, darling,” he said, flashing his fangs, “don’t forget to mind the teeth.”

“You never do,” you teased.

He smiled, but you observed some hesitation in his face. “Really, darling, you don’t have to-”

“Shush,” you said, sitting up on your knees and leaning forward to kiss his mouth. “I want to do this. You deserve to be taken care of for once.”

His eyes were nothing but fond when he bent upwards to kiss you. “Alright,” he murmured.

“Tell me if anything feels bad,” you said, repositioning yourself between his legs. “So help me gods, I’m going to make you come tonight.”

Astarion laughed. “I believe in you, darling.”

You kissed his tip again and returned your hand to pumping his shaft once again. 

“Yes,” Astarion breathed, “hands are good too.”

Boldly, you started licking long, languid strokes with the flat of your tongue up and down the head of his cock. 

Astarion’s hips jerked involuntarily. “Very good,” he groaned.

You planted a kiss where your tongue had just been, then removed your hand to lick a stripe from the base of his length up to the top. You blew softly on the saliva left behind and smiled when his thighs tensed and heard his breath catch in his throat. He sighed out your name, a blissful look on his face. You alternated between kissing and licking and paid close attention to areas that had Astarion bucking his hips, or biting his lip, or moaning softly.

His hands tightened in your hair when you licked a particularly sensitive spot. “Gods,” he focused his eyes on you, “you’re wonderful.”

You kissed him once more before saying, “I’m going to try taking you now.”

Astarion’s breath caught again, this time with anticipation. “Go slow, darling. There’s no rush.”

“Don’t you have dinner plans?” you deflected with a joke, trying not to get too in your head before taking him into your mouth.

Astarion groaned. “You are my dinner plans, you rotten woman.”

“We should stop talking now.”

“Agreed.”

You took a deep breath to slow your heart rate, which had Astarion chuckling again.

“Honestly darling, if this is too much-”

Before he could finish, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his cock and swirled your tongue in a circular motion, causing him to gasp loudly and arch his back in surprise. You giggled at his reaction, the vibration of your voice further causing him to clutch at the sheets beneath him. 

“Oh…” he breathed. “More of that, please.”

You did as instructed and added your hand to pump up and down his length. He let out a small cry of pleasure in response. You gave an experimental suck and were delighted to be met with an even louder cry of pleasure.

“Darling,” he moaned, “you’re a natural.”

You hummed a “thank you” and lowered your head, attempting to take more of him into your mouth.

“Ah,” Astarion squeaked. “So warm.”

Your hand continued to work the base of his cock while you took even more of him, experimenting with your limit. When he bumped against the back of your throat, you felt yourself gag, and pulled back.

“No,” Astarion whined, “come back…”

“Sorry,” you wiped your eyes to rid yourself of the tears that had involuntarily gathered at the corners.

He watched your hand, still pumping up and down. “Don’t apologize, dear, just come back to me.”

You studied his face, which was relaxed, save for the mild distress caused by your mouth leaving him. “You’re enjoying it?”

“Can’t you tell?” He took your chin in his hand and smiled fondly. “I think you know me well enough by now to know if I was faking it.”

You nuzzled his hand. “I would hope so.”

“Please darling,” he whispered, “you’re doing so well. Give it another go.”

You smiled, thrilled that you were able to do this for him and that he was actually enjoying himself. “Any tips for gagging?”

He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “Well if you’re nervous that I don’t like it, throw that thought away. The sensation of your throat constricting is heavenly.”

“Good to know,” you nodded.

“But if you don’t like the sensation, I’ve read that squeezing your left thumb can help reduce your gag reflex. And it’s worked for me when I’ve tried it.” He held up his left hand and demonstrated wrapping his other four fingers around his thumb. You swapped your left hand, which was still slowly stroking him, with your right hand, and mirrored the motion. He nodded. “That’s it.”

“Okay,” you said with a newfound confidence. You dipped your head back down and kissed the head of his cock again before taking him back into your mouth gradually.

Astarion threw his head back, a fangy smile gracing his features. “Ahh…” he exhaled.

You felt him twitch in your mouth and giggled. The vibration of that once again had Astarion humming pleasantly. Rather than seeing how far you could take him this time, you took a decent amount before lifting back up and bobbing back down. You repeated this a few times, trying to take more of him with each bob of your head. 

Astarion twisted a hand into your hair again and whined out your name. “So good… so good for me.”

When his tip bumped the back of your throat this time, you squeezed your thumb and found yourself not as rattled this time. Emboldened, you started taking even more of him, despite the tears gathering in your eyes. 

“Oh gods,” he whimpered when you let your right hand move downwards to start fondling his balls lightly. 

You hummed again before popping off of him to catch your breath. Astarion’s chest was rising and falling heavily, and the smile on his face was nothing short of euphoric.

“You better not stop,” he said through a laugh.

“Those of us still living actually need to breathe, sorry,” you licked along his shaft again before returning to bobbing up and down, with him down your throat. You swallowed involuntarily, which had him whimpering again and bucking his hips deeper. 

“Ah,” he moaned quietly. “You feel perfect. I could have you like this forever.” 

You hummed an affirmation, making his hips twitch again. 

“Don’t you…” his breathing was still labored, despite his lack of breath, “Don’t you dare make a… snide remark about being together… forever.”

“Mmm,” you said, sounding an awful lot like “Aww.” You pulled back up and swirled your tongue around the head again.

“Oh…” he moaned again. “You’ll have to… show me… the paperbacks you’ve been reading.”

You gave him a thumbs up with the hand that wasn’t currently fondling his balls and brought it back down to slide it up and down his thigh softly. Goosebumps emerged on his skin and he inhaled sharply. 

“I’m close, darling girl,” he brushed his hand through your hair encouragingly before fisting it tightly again. “Keep going.”

You could feel with your tongue as you bobbed back down that he was more rigid now than when you’d begun. He was also twitching more frequently and bucking his hips to chase after your mouth. 

He ran his free hand through his hair. “Where shall I-?”

You gave him a brutal suck before popping off with a filthy sound. “Not sure I’m ready to swallow yet,” you admitted shyly, despite a string of drool connecting you to him. Your right hand was back to twisting around his length.

He loosed a breathy laugh. “Understandable.”

“I suppose on my chest?”

He laughed again. “You- ah- suppose?”

“I don’t know!” you exclaimed. “Is that sexy? I’ve never been cum on before.”

He smiled fondly and thumbed over your lip again. “You’re always sexy, pet.”

“Liar,” you laughed, “you’ve seen me drool in my sleep.”

“And what a sexy drooler you are,” he teased.

You scowled. “Ew, don’t say that.”

He groaned, but not at your remark. “Really darling, I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Right,” you said, “chest it is.” You returned your mouth to his cock, kissing it sloppily before taking him back into your mouth as much as you could. 

You decided to start humming “Bard Song” while moving up and down, a callback to the night of the tiefling party, when he’d hummed an offkey version for you. 

“Ohh, please,” he whimpered pathetically at the humming sensation mixed with your hands on his shaft and thigh, “please.”

You took that as encouragement to hum a bit louder.

“More,” Astarion whined, “faster.”

You squeezed your hand around his length a bit harder and started increasing your speed. He, in turn, was letting out louder, less censored moans.

“Good,” he breathed, “such a good girl.” His hips began bucking wildly and you did your best to remain where you were. “I’m going to- ah- darling,” his eyes rolled back before he shut them and reached to tap your shoulder, signaling for you to stop.

You pulled back to hover over him and watched as he began stroking himself furiously. Wanting to spur him on even more, you began massaging the tips of his ears, which had him calling out your name before spilling all over your chest and his abdomen. 

The sensation was sticky and warm, and you were surprised by just how much of it there was. Normally you’d try to avoid a mess like this, but seeing the intense focus turned to pure bliss on Astarion’s face made it worthwhile in your eyes.

He opened his eyes and gave you the most radiant smile you’d ever seen. “Oh, darling,” he sat up and kissed your mouth fiercely, “that was incredible.” 

“I’m glad it was to your liking,” you smiled against his lips and kissed him again. He pulled you closer, making your chest press against his. “Oh!” you yelped, pulling back and observing how his cum on your chest had transferred onto his chest.

Astarion brought a hand up to his face and swiped it down his features as he laughed. “Not the worst thing I’ve been covered in.”

“I will not be asking you to elaborate,” you said.

“Nor would I want you to.” He sat up a little. “Let’s get you cleaned up, beautiful.”

“No, no, no,” you held a gentle hand to his chest and made him lie back down. “Allow me.” You rolled off of him and walked over to the wash basin in the corner.

Astarion sat back up to watch you. “Well,” he said airily, “one could get used to this sort of service.”

You found a clean cloth and wet it thoroughly. “Get used to it, pretty boy,” you walked back over to him, “you’re not in this alone anymore.”

“I suppose I’m not,” he chuckled. 

You began to wipe Astarion down, ridding his chest of any unwanted substance before moving down to his stomach. You gasped when you felt him lean forward and lick your chest. “What are you doing?”

“Just helping to expedite the process.” He smirked at you. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“How kind,” you said, pushing him back. “Um… did you want me to do that to you?”

Astarion blinked a few times. “Oh, no, certainly not. I mean, unless you want to!” He searched your eyes, but you scrunched your nose a little at the thought. “Yes,” he chuckled, “I find the process to be rather… I don’t know… It’s not my favorite thing. Much too salty.”

“Then… why are you doing it now?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, watching your hands clean off his stomach with the cloth, “other men liked it when I put on a bit of a show when it came to cum.”

“Well, I’m not other men.” you said, dramatically gripping your breasts firmly in both hands, then regretting it when they came away sticky.

He laughed. “Let me help you, dear.”

You allowed him to take the cloth from you and observed him thoughtfully. “Just so you know, you never have to put on a show for me.”

He met your eye, looking at a loss for words. 

“I mean,” you said quickly, “you can if you want to, but you never have to. I like you, and it’s not because of how great you are at sex.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “so you finally admit it.”

“Shut up,” you slapped his bicep gently. “You know what I mean.”

He sighed and looked at you fondly. “What ever did I do to deserve a sweetheart like you?”

“You’ve always deserved this kind of care,” you said, brushing your thumb across his cheekbone. “I’m just sorry it took so long for me to find you.”

He pressed his forehead to yours and spoke softly. “You really took your time, didn’t you? Selfish.”

You snorted and pushed him away, a devilish grin on his face. “That’s a new one, by the way,” you smiled. “‘Sweetheart.’”

He began to wipe your stomach clean, paying extra delicate attention to the area around your scar. “Like that one? There’s plenty more in the arsenal. Let’s see…” He bent and kissed your neck. “Sweetheart… sweetie… sweetness…”

“I’m sensing a theme here,” you laughed, running your fingers through his hair.

“You’re delicious,” he murmured next to your ear before biting it gently. 

“Oh, you haven’t eaten!” you exclaimed, suddenly remembering that you’d asked him to bite you earlier. 

Astarion nuzzled your neck with his nose before pulling back. “Relax, darling. I haven’t forgotten. But you have, it would seem.”

“What do you mean?”

Satisfied with how clean the both of you were now, Astarion threw the cloth back towards the washbasin. “I mean,” he brought his face close to yours, “don’t you remember when I said I wanted to taste you?”

I’d rather taste you while I’m inside of you.

Right.

“Still?” you asked.

He nodded. 

“But…” you furrowed your brow. “If this is about feeling like you owe me, cut it out. That’s not how it works anymore.”

Astarion whined. “Darling, this is the first night I’ve been in a proper bed in months. This isn’t about payment, this is about allowing my to finally fuck you properly.”

You were taken aback by that. “So… what were all those other times?”

Astarion quirked his mouth to the side. “Well, those were still me fucking you but… in the woods.”

You snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

He crashed his lips into yours desperately. “Please,” he moaned. “I need to feel you again.”

“Are you,” you smirked, “begging?”

“Darling, if I was begging, you’d know.”

“And if I say no?”

“I won’t beg,” he said, looking down his nose at you. “But don’t say no.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Okay, tough guy. If you’re still up for it, then so am I.”

“Excellent,” Astarion placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you fiercely before flipping you onto your back. He hovered above you, still kissing you deeply, and you felt his hands reach for the waistband of your pants. He hummed into your mouth by way of asking permission, and you hummed back an affirmation. He pulled away and undid the ties on the front before pulling both your pants and underwear down at the same time. 

“You are fast,” you remarked. 

“Practice, darling,” he said before crawling on top of you and kissing you again.

“Are you even,” you said between kisses, “ready for another round?” You looked down and saw that he was already getting hard again.

“I’ve missed you,” he shrugged and kissed your throat. “It’s impossible for me to not want you right now.”

“Oh,” you said, genuinely flattered. “I’ve missed you too, my love.”

He moaned against your throat and rolled his hips against yours. “Say that again.”

“‘I’ve missed you?’”

He clicked his tongue. “Well, obviously,” he rolled his eyes. “No, the other thing.”

“‘My love?’” The phrase was met with another roll of Astarion’s hips. 

“Yes,” he whispered. “I’m yours,” he reached for your hand, which still had the ring on, and twisted it. “And you’re mine.”

“Yes, my love,” you sighed, wrapping your leg around his hip to pull him closer, “I’m yours.”

“My beautiful girl,” he bumped his nose against yours affectionately. 

You gasped in surprise when you felt him slide his fingers through your folds.

“You did miss me,” he teased. “Shall I help you feel good, darling?”

“Please,” you breathed, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

He continued to slide his fingers between your legs, spreading your slick and preparing you to take him. “No funny business tonight,” he said. “No new positions or experimental moves. I just want to feel you around me.”

“I can agree to those- ah- terms.” You stuttered when his thumb began circling your clit. “Whatever you want.”

He looked at you with an overwhelming fondness before kissing you sweetly. “Thank you, darling.”

It was then that he stuck a finger into your core slowly and you gasped, tightening your arms around his shoulders and squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Shh, shh, shh,” he cooed, “I’m preparing you to take me, my sweet. You’re going to do so well.” He began to pump the finger in and out of you slowly, curling it just so. When your body relaxed, he picked up the pace. “There now,” he said, “you’re doing so well already.”

You nodded and watched his hand move between your legs. “You can go faster.” 

Astarion smiled and picked up the pace on his pumping and circling your clit. You tensed in pleasure. 

“I’m going to add another,” he said, looking you in the eye. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you nodded and tightened your grip on him once again when he inserted the second finger slowly.

“Okay?” he asked, making sure you were alright. 

“Careful,” you said, causing him to halt his motions, “you’re being awfully nice to me.”

“Don’t ruin this,” he said flatly, and pumped his fingers into your core harshly.

“Ah!” you exclaimed with a laugh. “Sorry, sorry!”

He leaned forward and kissed your mouth again. “You’re forgiven.” When he pulled back, he scowled. “For now.” 

You laughed. “How generous.”

His fingers suddenly brushed against the spongy spot inside of you and you keened.

“There,” you moaned. “That felt amazing.”

“Good,” Astarion smirked and focused his attention on hitting that spot over and over with some force, all the while circling your clit.

That familiar tightening in your stomach started to make itself known, and you moved one of your hands to grip Astarion’s curls. “I’m close,” you said.

“Very good,” he purred and increased the pace of his hand once more. His other hand came up to tangle into your hair and he started kissing you deeply.

Your hips rolled against his hand, chasing even more friction. “Astarion,” you whined.

“Come for me, darling,” he murmured next to your ear. “You can do it. You made me feel so divine earlier, I know you can come for me too.” 

“Keep talking,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut and willing your climax to overtake you.

He chuckled lowly. “It’s been so hard keeping my hands off you while you were healing this last tenday, sweet girl. All I wanted to do was rip your clothes off, and get my mouth on you, and touch you everywhere.” You whined and bucked your hips. “I adore you, precious thing. I promise I’ll protect you from now on. So that I’ll never have to hold back again.”

The words, combined with the brutal pace of his fingers and thumb hurdled you over the edge and into your climax, which had you calling out for Astarion and gripping onto his back.

“I’m here,” he cooed. “You’re so beautiful when you let go.”

As you came back down and caught your breath, you smiled at him. “I missed that.”

Astarion scoffed lightheartedly. “And here I thought you liked me for more than how fantastic I am at sex.”

“I lied,” you teased.

“Oof,” Astarion held a hand to his heart. “If my heart were beating, surely it would break.”

You sat up and kissed him swiftly. “I adore you too, dummy.”

“I know,” he said pompously and you reached behind you and whacked him in the side of the head with a pillow. “Ow!” he exclaimed, and you laughed at the way his hair became disheveled. “Come here, you,” he growled, pinning you back on the bed and kissing you deeply once more. He ground his hips against yours, allowing you to feel how hard he had become. 

He pulled back and looked into your eyes with unrestrained desire. You looked down and saw him aligning himself at your entrance. 

“Ready?” he asked sincerely. 

“Please,” you rested your forehead against his. 

He pressed into you slowly, making you inhale sharply before you relaxed into the sensation. Astarion, meanwhile, appeared to be struggling. He’d paused, and his eyes were shut tight.

“Are you alright?” you asked, caressing his hair and brushing against the back of his ear.

“Huh?” He opened his eyes with a start, then smiled down at you seductively. “Oh, yes darling, why wouldn’t I be?”

You pursed your lips. “We can stop if something is wrong.”

“No!” Astarion’s eyes widened. “No, that’s not necessary. I’m just… overwhelmed, I think.”

“By…?”

He rolled his hips slowly and closed his eyes again. “You feel so good. It’s been too long. And I’m still not used to… this.” He opened his eyes and used his chin to gesture towards you. 

“What, my excellent breasts?” you deflected, feeling scrutinized under his gaze.

“While, yes, they are excellent,” he reached forward and squeezed your left breast for good measure, “you know that’s not what I meant.” 

“Yeah, I know,” you said quietly. “But what exactly… did you mean?”

He sighed. “I’m still figuring that out. It’s never felt this way before and I… forgot.” He rolled his hips again and your eyes fluttered closed.

“F-forgot?” 

“How good this can feel. How good you feel.” He reached for your hands and tangled your fingers together with his on either side of your head. “We’re going to go extra slow tonight. I want to savor this.” He kissed you, his tongue sliding into your mouth before he started thrusting his hips at a leisurely pace.

You moaned into his mouth. “Take your time.”

“I plan to,” he said, caressing one of your thumbs with his own. 

The two of you remained like that for a few quiet moments, the only sounds being your hitched breaths and skin slapping against skin. 

“Mmm,” you hummed, a pleased smile on your face. “This is nice.”

“This is nice,” Astarion agreed, biting your ear gently.

You sighed dreamily. “What would you usually talk to your… um… previous partners about? During sex?”

He pulled away from your ear and furrowed his brow. “Must we talk about others at a time like this?” He wet his thumb in his mouth sensually, and brought it down to your clit. 

You gasped and arched your back. “Of- of course not. I just like hearing your thoughts.”

Astarion smirked and leaned forward again to kiss your jaw. “Couldn’t you use the tadpole for that?”

You wrapped a leg around his waist. “I- ah- I guess. But it feels wrong to do that without your permission.” 

He growled against your throat and thrust into you harshly. “You always know just what to say.”

You laughed. “Liar.”

He thrust into you again. “Normally I was just trying to make the other person reach the finish line, so to speak. I’d say or do whatever was necessary to get them there.” 

“And you?”

“Oh, perish the thought. My needs were never at the forefront.” 

“My love…” you whined.

“People are much more willing to follow you around after you’ve brought them to the peak of pleasure.” He laughed a little. “Kind of like how you won’t stop following me around.”

You scoffed with a smile. “Do not compare me to someone you had to sleep with. And you’re the one who begged to be inside of me earlier. Not to mention when I had you in my mouth.”

Astarion thrust into you again forcibly. “I did not beg.” He thrust once more, changing the direction of his circles on your clit with his thumb. “Although I’m fairly certain I could get you to beg.” He flashed his fangs at you.

“Oh, please,” you said on an eyeroll.

“And there we have it,” he smirked. “I win.” 

“That was not me begging.”

“I heard a ‘please,’ didn’t I?”

“I loathe you,” you said, throwing your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down for a kiss. 

“I’m a magnificent bastard, aren’t I?” he took your other thigh and hiked it around his waist, making you lock your feet together. “Oh,” he moaned loudly, “I never want to leave this room.”

“We-”

He pressed a finger to your lips. “Do not list our many incomplete tasks right now, I beg of you, my darling.”

“You what?”

“I beg- oh shut up.” He withdrew himself from your cunt and slammed himself back in, coaxing a gleeful moan out of your throat. “Can’t you say anything sexy?”

“Hmm…” you thought aloud, closing your eyes when he began kissing your jaw again. “Sometimes, when I see how beautiful you are, I’m just dumbfounded.”

He chuckled. “Me too.”

“But I love talking to you, more than anything.”

“This isn’t really the kind of ‘sexy’ I had in mind, but do go on.”

“Even now, as you’re finally fucking me on a bed, I’m just as thrilled to hear your voice.”

Astarion gave you a questioning look. “High praise from a bard.” 

You kissed his bare shoulder. “You’re not trying to impress me, you're just… here with me. As Astarion.”

That made him pause for a moment. “Oh, believe me, dear, Astarion is trying very hard to impress you right now.” He rolled his hips at a slightly different angle, hiking you up closer to him. 

“Well- ah- it’s working. Great job.” You leaned up to kiss him and he chased your lips as you laid back in the pillows. He continued kissing all over your face and down your neck. He paused when his nose bumped the base of your throat.

“Darling?” 

An unspoken question.

“Hungry?”

He nodded against your skin, searching for a good spot to strike.

“Take what you need,” you whispered. “It’s yours.”

“Thank you.” You heard him inhale before the piercing coldness of his bite entered your veins. Your entire body tensed before you were overcome with the familiar pleasant numbness. 

“Oh, Astarion,” you groaned, raking your fingers through his hair. 

You could feel how slowly he was drinking from you, almost in time with how slowly he was still thrusting into you. He kept letting out tiny whimpers of delight, excited to finally taste you again. 

“You’re heavenly,” he said, pulling back momentarily as if to catch his breath. “I almost forgot how much I love your flavor. So sophisticated and sweet.” He dove in again, first licking the wound before biting down and continuing to drink. 

“Take as much as you like,” you sighed, bucking your hips when his thrusts started to pick up some speed. “Just don’t kill me.”

He chuckled against your throat but didn’t let up. He resumed letting out little noises of pleasure, and brought one of his hands up to paw at your breast. The other was cradling the back of your head affectionately. 

You could feel his cock growing steadily more rigid within you, the more Astarion drank. His speed was also steadily increasing, with thrusts becoming much more frequent than the slow passionate movements they’d been at the start of the encounter. 

“Astarion,” you whined, feeling yourself become more lightheaded than his usual feedings. 

“Mmf,” he said articulately before pulling back from your throat and licking the wounds to soothe the mild pain and clean excess drops of blood. When you could see his face once more, the tips of his ears were dusted a light shade of pink, and you swore there was more color in his face. His radiant smile was back, and he looked at you as if you were the sun itself. 

“As good as you remember?” you asked, laughing lightly at his expression.

“Better,” he said, surging forward to kiss you. You welcomed the coppery tang of your blood on his tongue happily. “Now, if you don’t mind, a reward.”

“Hey-” you warned.

“I want to,” he insisted. “Besides, it’s not just for you.” He laughed. “Can you imagine? How selfish are you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s see it then.”

He smirked and moved over to your ear, murmuring, “I’m going to make you come again, sweetheart.” He pulled away, looking proud of himself. “That name works in a few ways actually. Because your blood is sweet, and it comes from your heart. And because it’s quite an endearing nickname.”

You nodded. “We’ll work on your tight five and get you a slot in the Laff Riot at the Elfsong once we’re back in Baldur’s Gate.”

“Oh, hush you,” he said, quieting you with a kiss. “I feel great,” he smiled down at you, returning his hand to your clit as he continued thrusting into your core. “Don’t ever almost die again.”

“I-” you gasped at a particularly pleasant thrust, “I’ll try.”

“Good girl,” he purred, bringing his forehead to yours. “Tell me, darling, how can I help you?”

“My boobs are feeling pretty neglected, if I’m being honest.” You gave him a sideways smile. 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “‘Boobs,’” he mocked. “I suppose I can do that.” He smirked before lowering down to your left breast and teasing your nipple lightly with his teeth. His left hand came up to massage your right breast as his right hand continued to circle your clit. He sucked at the bud of your nipple rather harshly, causing it to pebble in his mouth and his tongue swirled around it greedily. 

You arched your back in pleasure and tried pulling him closer with your legs still locked around his middle. He hummed against your skin and turned his attention to your right breast with his mouth. 

“You’re so good,” you said wistfully, your eyes closed. “I love this.”

“Ah luff thish too,” he said, licking around your right nipple and making you laugh. 

“Keep going,” you said, tapping your foot against Astarion’s bare ass, encouraging him to thrust faster. 

He let out an amused breath through his nose before picking up the pace as requested. His thumb on your clit sped up as well.

“Oh gods…” you moaned, digging your nails into his scalp. You could feel yourself getting close again, just a little more and you’d be tumbling over the edge into your climax. “Talk to me,” you said desperately.

Astarion lifted his face from your nipple. “About what?” 

“Anything,” you looked at him pleadingly. “Say something sappy.” When he gave you a stupidly seductive look, you amended “And mean it!”

His face immediately fell, but his pace didn’t falter. “I need to think about this for a second.” 

You laughed. “You don’t have to, just keep going. I’m close.”

“Is this like when I made you come by telling a joke?”

“I didn’t-” you rolled your eyes. “Yes, it’s exactly like that.”

Astarion nodded dutifully and thought for a moment. “I could say something about how in these accursed shadow lands, you are my light?”

You were squeezing your eyes tight, trying to reach your peak. “That could work. Ah!” Astarion bit your nipple again lightly. 

“Hmm… no, feels too sappy. Oh.” It looked like something dawned on him. He bent forward again to kiss your neck and whined when you pulled lightly at his hair. “Earlier,” he said, sounding out of breath, “when Jaheira likened you to my mate,” he almost spat the word, “I didn’t… entirely hate it.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him. “What?” 

He nodded against you. “I like… having you around. And if some old druid likens that to procreating bears or whatever, then so be it.”

You smiled. “That might be one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me.”

“So come, gods damn you! I want to come too!”

You laughed. “Kiss me, dummy.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his face to yours. He moaned into your mouth when your tongue slipped past his lips. “Yours,” you murmured. 

Astarion growled, kissing you deeper. “Mine.”

With a few more circles of your clit and another brutal thrust from his hips, you fell into your climax, feeling him coming not far behind. Your cunt pulsed and fluttered around him, sending bursts of pleasure throughout your body. He moaned your name before collapsing on top of you, thoroughly spent. 

He smiled at you lazily. “Well darling?”

You blinked at him. 

“Performance review? From a humble bard such as yourself.”

You laughed. “The critics at the Baldur’s Gate Gazette will sing your praises for years to come.”

“Outstanding.” He kissed your chest before carefully pulling out of you and getting off the bed. 

You watched him walk to the washbasin and wet a fresh cloth before coming back and wiping down the space between your legs. 

“Here,” he said, handing you his discarded shirt from earlier.

“Are you sure?” you asked, taking the shirt and watching him wipe himself down with the cloth. 

“It smells like you when you sleep in it,” he said earnestly. “But would it kill you to move less in your sleep? You might ruin the neckline.”

“I’m going to purposely stretch it out now,” you joked. 

“Menace,” he said, sounding scandalized, before tossing the cloth towards the washbasin and pulling on a pair of loose cotton pants from his backpack. 

“Those are new,” you remarked.

He crawled onto the bed and tucked himself into your side. “Now that I’m sleeping on a bed, the protection from the leather against dirt is no longer necessary.”

“How practical,” you said, turning to face him as he pulled the blanket over the both of you. “And where did you find them?”

“I may have stumbled upon them in Gale’s belongings.”

You snorted. “You’re the menace.”

“And you like me so much,” he teased, scrunching his nose at you.

“I do,” you smiled and poked his nose before yawning.

Astarion chuckled. “Did I tire you out, darling?”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” you said, “we killed a pretty big spider earlier.”

He snorted. “I believe they’re called driders.”

“Tomayto tomahto,” you closed your eyes and scooted forward to snuggle into his chest.

Astarion hummed a vague agreement and wrapped his arms around you. “Goodnight, my sweet.” 

“Sleep well, my love. I hope you had fun tonight.” You didn’t open your eyes and instead bent forward to kiss his bare chest.

He exhaled through his nose. “That I did. Thank you.”

You smiled against his skin before your features relaxed and you drifted off to sleep. 

~~~~~

Above your sleeping form, Astarion stared at the wall, unblinking. 

A million thoughts were running through his mind, all of them revolving around you. 

He’d forgotten how good sex could be. He’d convinced himself that he was okay without it, that you were okay without it, while you were recovering, and for the most part, he was. He was happy, even! Staying by your side all day and simply enjoying your company and silly commentary had been more than enough. And it seemed that you were happy, too.

But in that time, he’d forgotten.

He’d forgotten how his feelings for you might interfere and make things… better. 

Could it always be like this?

He looked down at you, breathing steadily in his arms, and took your hand in his. He observed the ring on your pinky and twisted it a few times. He took it off of you and slipped it back on a few more times. He brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it repeatedly.

He was in big trouble. 

You’d said and done things tonight that made him feel… loved. And he’d basked in it like the sun was still high in the sky.

He’d been mulling over his feelings recently, but not really. Why should he when things were good the way they were?

The problem was that he no longer wanted things to just be good the way they were.

He wanted more. 

And he wanted you to feel as loved as he did.

Wait.

Oh no.

He was in love with you.

Fuck!

[frommybedroom]

inspired by this post

Even after he turns in his essay, he can’t stop. It’s not like he’s never written anything before, but those were the silly daydreams of a little boy with his head in the clouds, who dreamed of movie stars and damsels in distress. What he’s doing now is important. What he’s doing now is necessary.

On the third day in a row that he’s late to dinner—so late that Soda has to reheat his plate—Darry says, “What you been writing about, Pony?”

“Yeah,” Soda says, bringing the plate over and setting it down. “You’re always still up when I try to go to bed. I’ve had to replace the batteries in your flashlight twice now. Are you writing another story?”

Pony shrugs. Suddenly, all the words that pour out of him so easily onto the page get lodged in the back of his throat.

How to describe it to them? The urge—to not forget, to hold onto what was. To wring out the words and distill them into a watered-down version of his friends. Those measly words the only things left of Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston.

“Hey, Ponyboy, what’s wrong?”

Pony blinks, and Soda’s blurry face peers at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Darry scoot his chair closer to the both of them. Both wear matching expressions of concern.

“I just—” He swallows past the lump in his throat. “I just want to remember them.”

His brothers don’t say anything. So he keeps going.

“I—I can’t let them just disappear. They were here. They were real. And now they’re not. And I can’t let what their tombstones say be the only thing people remember about them. They were more than just a date.”

Soda leans over and ruffles his hair. It’s starting to grow out again finally, the natural dark roots beginning to peek through. “Don’t worry about that, Pony. You’ll never forget them. None of us will.”

“Yeah,” Darry agrees. “Dallas and Johnny were family, and family don’t—”

“I can’t remember what Mom’s perfume smelled like,” Pony bursts out. “I don’t remember what her high heels sounded like on the floor or the slight burning smell when she would curl her hair. And I try real hard to remember what it was like waking up and hearing Dad make coffee, but it’s gone. They’re fading. Like they were never actually here at all.” He clenches his fists, and there’s still a faint ache in his wrist. “I’m not gonna let that happen to them.”

He doesn’t tell them that sometimes at night, after Soda’s fully asleep and snoring like some dang bear, he sneaks out of bed and into the closet where they’ve kept Johnny’s clothes folded in a neat pile. Sometimes he holds them, brushing his fingers over the ripped jeans; sometimes he can’t bear to sully them. Which doesn’t even make sense because the shirt’s still got some of Johnny’s blood on it so it’s plenty dirty already, but he still feels like he’ll ruin it if he touches them too much or for too long.

He’s broken out of his thoughts by arms wrapping around him. A moment later, another pair of arms joins the first. And then he’s clutching onto Soda’s elbow and Darry’s forearm, and once again they’re all holding each other.

He wonders what this scene would look like to an observer: three boys in a rundown kitchen with grime caked under their fingernails and wearing clothes that don’t fit quite right. Unwanted tears escaping from tightly squeezed eyelids. A forgotten plate of food sitting on the table. No parents or friends anywhere to be seen.

He thinks they would see grief. And heartache and loneliness and pain. But maybe also hope. Maybe also love.

[faux-ecrivain]

Yan neko

(Second Official Post)

(This yandere is slow developing, so it won’t seem particularly yanderish.)

Yan neko who approached you in his cute little cat form, meowing for you attention (but in reality all he wants is your food)

Yan neko who happily makes himself at home, ignoring you when you shoo him off the furniture or tell him to stop eating your food. 

Yan neko that enjoys the soft pets you give him (even if he bites you when you pet him for too long). He enjoys the love you give him, the cuddles (no matter how reluctant you are to give them), the kisses too…(Although he hates it when your kisses muss his fur!)

You place a gentle kiss on the forehead of your cute cat and your hand gently running through his soft colorful fur. He purrs loudly as you continue to grace him with excessive amounts of affection, he knows that despite your indifferent exterior you love him. (His delusional mind may be conjuring up a different sort of love, the type that taunts him with the thought of revealing who he truly is)

You don’t know when this cat managed to worm its way into your heart, but you can’t say you hate it. 

Although, this joy and contentment is destroyed when he reveals himself. He expected you to greet him with the same amount of love you graces his cat form with, but clearly he was wrong.

You’re panicking, you’ve been living with a person this whole time?? Others might not view it as a big deal, but you do, you feel betrayed and angry. 

There’s been a person masquerading as your pet cat this whole time?? A person that’s been eating your food, sleeping in your bed (albeit in cat form, but who’s to say he didn’t turn into his human form at night?), probably stealing your clothes too! (He was totally stealing your clothes, he hid them in a floor board where he’s hidden everything else he’s stolen from you)

Yan neko is flabbergast by your behavior, why are you screaming? Why are you angry? He didn’t do anything to you! Sure he might have stole a few intimate items of clothes, but he returned them and he’s been pitching in around the house! (He’s been doing the dishes, even the laundry and it’s very difficult to get stains out of the clothes you own!)

Yan neko tries to calm you down, insisting that he’s still the same old cuddly cat that you’ve been doting on. (Despite the glaring differences, after all cats don’t speak English, and they definitely don’t have hands)

Yan neko who gets tired of your shouts and decides to shush you up (he just covers your mouth, although that backfired and you bite him). Eventually you do calm down, now yan neko is your roommate and he has to go get a job.

Yan neko is appalled by your request (what do you mean I have to get a job? So what if I’ve been living here rent free and eating all your food! I’m a cute cat boy! Don’t you want to take care of me?)

Yan neko who begrudgingly gets a job, although he struggles with hiding his tail and cat ears. But he’ll do anything if it means staying in this warm house of yours and having endless supplies of food! (Although he’s rather upset that he has to stop sharing a room with you)

Yan neko who becomes fiercely territorial the moment he sees you invite someone over to your house. He growls (do cats growl?), he hissed and snarls. His anger only tempered when you spray him with water, then he’s banished to the guest room. 

Yan neko grumbles, already plotting the demise of your guest.

He scratches his nails against the wall and tries to listen in on the conversation you two are having. He can only hear murmurs and then he’s distracted by the sound of you laughing. His hearts flutters and he laments, wondering why you never laugh when he’s around. He sighs and then he hears your guest laugh, and his mood sours.

He snarls, (how dare that stranger flirt with you! Yan believes that he’s the only for you..), then slams a fist against the door. It startled your guest and you excuses yourself to go scold your neko roommate.

Although he hates being scolded (your lectures take way too long), he can’t help but reveal in your attention. (Of course he does, He’s a cat). He reluctantly agrees to quiet down (you threatened to take away his catnip), only after you promise to let him cuddle you tonight. 

Of course this doesn’t stop him from sneaking out after your guest left, stalking your guest and then promptly eliminating them from the world. (It’s a mess to clean up, but he’s persistent, and soon enough the entire area is sparkling clean. Then he has to find a way to clean himself off, maybe this wasn’t the best idea?)

He does his best to distract you from his sudden and unexplained disappearance (boy, you sure are persistent! You must be really worried about him…) it takes hours, but you’re eventually placated and you get ready for bed. Although, that calmness is destroyed by tomorrow morning, as the news comes on and reveals the unfortunate death of your guest from last night. (Your guest was named Gene Robinson, their parents are absolutely devastated to hear of Gene’s passing.)

Yan neko instantly becomes on edge when you start to question his excuses, you start to point out flaws in his logic, you start to doubt him. (don’t do that, he doesn’t want to loose house privileges!)

Yan neko tells you That Gene was a threat, that he was only doing what was necessary to keep the two of them safe! 

Yan neko panics when you don’t believe him (calling him a criminal and threatening to call the police) and decides to take action (he knocks you out), he wants to keep you safe, but he can’t lock you up here (people will notice your absence). He doesn’t know what to do, for now he’ll just get you comfortable in bed, and when you wake up he’ll try to explain the situation to you.

(Phew, this took some time, but this isn’t exactly my best work. Still, enjoy the post and feel free to comment! I’m having trouble with coloring the font, so I apologize if certain parts of this post aren’t highlighted or italicized.)