#its the unconditional undying love

[matsubrokq]

i love fma so fucking mych everytime i rewatch it i feel like swallowing a lit cigarette

[pinkberrytea]

Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion.

Memento mori—Remember you must die. Enveloped in memories of her death, the Vampire Ascendant watches his darling consort as she slumbers, lost in dreams of blood and mist. Life is short, and shortly it will end; death comes quickly and respects no one. To death we are hastening, let us refrain from sinning.

An exploration of Astarion’s character and his relationship with his Dark Consort following the ascension, from a softer perspective.

Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav (F!Reader)

w/c: 6.2k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers

a/n: thank you for reading! this is my first time dabbling in creative writing, and of course my first attempt at smut fiction, but still, I hope it is at least somewhat enjoyable. I would like to dedicate this work to the lovely @locallegume, who was a huge source of inspiration, and also to hismostbelovedspawn over on reddit, for being always so incredibly kind and supportive. I love you guys!

tags: blood drinking; cunnilingus; body worship; light dom/sub; vaginal fingering; mildly dubious consent; creampie; fluff & angst; emotional sex; dry humping; possessive behavior; somnophilia; orgasm edging; piv sex

The beginning of the morning twilight is Astarion’s favorite time of the day, for it feels at once ephemeral and infinite. The wistful silence, broken only by the still timid chirping of the waking birds; the royal blue-colored sky, tinged with specks of the purples and violets of the dawn; the chilly morning breeze, gently rustling the flowers in the garden, pushing the still forming dewdrops off their petals and onto the ground; you, slumbering beside him, pale skin reflecting the dim light of the fading moon, rosy lips slightly parted. Sleeping peacefully like this, you look like a life-sized porcelain doll, he thinks—your unmoving chest betrays your otherwise healthy likeness, as does the unnaturally blanched color of your skin. Your nightgown hangs lazily off your shoulder, exposing one of your breasts, and your undergarments lay discarded on the floor, on the exact same spot where he had tossed them earlier that night. He adores this version of you—so vulnerable, so defenseless, laid open for him, and him only.

Astarion finds it curious, how you seem to completely lose yourself in your dreams, yet he is also greatly perturbed by the notion that there is a part of you that he is still unable to access, to dominate. It feels unnatural, not to be able to control this elusive slice of your essence, but having ever only tranced, it also mystifies him that you’d voluntarily give up your consciousness each night. You were after all ever the trusting fool—from the moment you met, he had lied to you, manipulated you countless times, and each time you fell for it, standing by his side even when the world screamed at you not to. And even now, you give yourself to him, unquestioningly, unconditionally. In all the long years of his existence, there had been none like you, and there never will be again. None as trusting, none as kind, and he both hates and loves you for it. The very notion of you extending your kindness to anyone other than him is infuriating, and makes him want to take it for himself, put it in a glass dome and hide it away in a place where only he can bask in its warmth. He thinks he is owed that, at least; yours was the only hand that ever reached out to him, so he is justified in not wanting to share.

You shift slightly in your sleep, and a lock of your hair that had been trapped underneath one of your arms falls onto your chest. After eyeing it for a moment, Astarion reaches out for the tresses and grasps them between his fingers. Bringing them close to his nose, he takes in your scent, that is now also his. It smells comforting, familiar—it smells like home. The corner of his lips curl into an almost imperceptible smile, and he closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. The hushed shroud of the early hours acts as a cloak, under which he is granted a brief respite, a rare chance to let himself be gentle, be kind. Just as you become entirely vulnerable before him in your slumber, he too exposes the soft underbelly of his feelings for you; that chaotic, intoxicating brew, a messy blend of passion, guilt, hurt, longing, and love, endless and unrelenting love.

He brings his elegant fingers close to your face, and ever so gently glides their soft pads across the cold, velvety smooth skin of your cheek. Your long lashes flutter slightly, tickling the sensitive area under your eyes as he lowers the digits to brush the plump of your lips. He admires you for a short moment, taking in your image—his pretty consort, so beautiful, so frail, so foolishly devoted to him. Oh how lucky he is, to have you who would do anything for him by his side; his most precious treasure, the reason why his long dead heart beats inside his chest once more. He grasps your chin, delicately tilting your head upward to face him, and tenderly presses his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your chest, fingers softly caressing the pebbled peak of your exposed breast, his touch so faint that his skin barely comes into contact with yours. As much as Astarion enjoys asserting his dominance over you, making you kneel before him, seeing the dejected yet submissive expression on your pretty face whenever he decides to make a show of his power, it is these moments he values the most. In your intimacy, he may treat you gently, tenderly, and in your state of unconsciousness, by morning his loving touches will be but a hazy memory, securing your place below, but close beside him, from where you shall never leave for as long as he draws breath—which he can now only do thanks to you.

His fingers on your nipple leave it alone for a moment to close around your breast, giving it a soft, gentle squeeze. Moving quietly so as not to wake you, he slides his right leg under yours and presses it against the back of your knee, creating a space between your thighs as he pushes them apart, where he then nests himself, climbing on top of you.

“Astarion…” when you softly whisper his name, his half-smile widens into a grin; how reassuring it is, to know you belong to him even in your dreams. He lowers his head to plant a kiss on the delicate skin of the curve of your neck, and his lips brush against the two small indentations disrupting the otherwise pristine smoothness of your flesh. Instinctively, he brings his hand to the back of your right shoulder, his long fingers blindly searching for the matching set of bite marks. The last of the three pairs adorns your left wrist, for which reason he will ever so often take your hand in his, only to lovingly kiss it and turn it around so he can admire the evidence of his proudest feat—having sired you.

“Oh my love, I’m here. I’ve got you,” Astarion coos, holding your head gently against his bare chest, fingers tangled in your hair as you writhe and squirm in his arms, empty and glassy eyes lost in a hollow stare, seeing nothing but darkness, endless darkness. The expression on your face is at once delirious and vacant—mouth agape and fists clenched, pupils blown wide, eyelashes wet with tears and a thin string of drool coming out from the corner of your lip and trickling down your chin. At least for tonight, you are lost to him, and as he winces at the still foreign sensation of the loud, vigorous throbbing in his head, your own fading heartbeat softens, dying down into nothingness. And right as it is about to fall perpetually silent, he lets his fangs pierce his own tongue, drawing droplets of now living blood; bringing your face close to his, he presses his thumb to your lower lip, and covers your mouth with his.

He loses himself in the memory for a moment, as he so often does. Your peaceful, serene expression stands in stark contrast to the one that had been etched on your face on that fateful night. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet still he remembers the pain, the agony, the relentless fear building up in his stomach as your body contorted and tears glistened in your vacant eyes. Never had Astarion been more afraid of anything than he’d been of losing you, and by his hand no less. Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion. You only ever questioned him about what had happened on the evening of your turning once, but it mattered not how many times you asked, for he would never fully disclose the raw truth—how he had cradled you in his arms and whispered sweet nothings in your ears, kissing away your tears; how he had picked you up as you lost consciousness and carried you to your bed, where he would then tuck you in so very tenderly, so very gently, softly patting your hair and holding your hand, sharing his warmth with you as you lost your own; how he would patiently wait by your side, watching as the color slowly drained from your face, his stomach sinking at the thought of you never waking again—only for you to then slowly open your eyes, their hue now a rich crimson, much like his own. No, he would never again allow himself to be so weak, for he was supposed to be your warden, your liege. This pathetic side of him was to be ever hidden from you, only rearing its ugly head during the brief, sleepy moments preceding the crack of dawn.

With his lips still pressed against your skin, Astarion starts peppering kisses down your neck, on the hollows of your collarbone and across your sternum, his hand on your breast fondling it gently, the other still tracing the bite marks on your shoulder. His still clothed hips start lazily, almost imperceptibly rocking back and forth, lightly grinding against your naked thighs; thinking back to the night when he made you his almost inevitably causes blood to rush to his groin, and his body starts unconsciously seeking the sweet relief of the friction between his hardening erection and your supple skin. He moves his hand on your breast to grasp your nipple between his fingers, lightly squeezing it. You involuntarily buck your hips in response, which amuses him greatly as he continues playing with the tender nub. A soft moan escapes your lips, encouraging and emboldening his attentions as they drift away from your clavicle towards your chest. He plants gentle kisses on the plump of your bosom, using his teeth to pull at your nightgown and drag it down, exposing your clothed breast to the chilly morning air. You shiver, and he smiles against your skin, pressing his lips to the valleys of your ribs, the softness of your lower belly, and finally to your bare crotch. With his face so close to your swollen sex, the sweet scent of your essence now intoxicates his senses. He stands back for a moment to admire how it glistens in the faint glow of the moonlight, so deliciously inviting, as your juices start building up and collecting in-between your folds.

Feeling his breath caressing the sensitive skin of your core, you finally start to slowly regain consciousness. Once his arousals were returned to him, Astarion would make a habit of waking up during the night at various times to bury his cock in you, so it takes you but a moment to gather your bearings. Either out of mischievousness or curiosity, you play coy at first, pretending to be asleep still. His soft lips briefly come into contact with your engorged bud, sending shock waves through your body, and you are barely able to keep yourself from letting out a yelp, although you can’t prevent your skin from becoming covered with goosebumps. When his tongue pokes out of his mouth to give it a tentative lick, you know you won’t be able to keep up the charade for much longer. He feels your body tense up, and slightly raises his head to look at you from his position between your legs with half-lidded, lascivious eyes, dilated pupils partially covering the ruby hue of his irises. You’re unsure if he has already caught on to your little ruse, so you try staying as still as possible, which proves difficult with his face so close to your cunt.

After what seems like an eternity he decides to continue, lapping at your clit again and then sliding his tongue downwards, burying it between your folds. He presses it against the outer edge of your entrance, squeezing slick out of you, and as he savors your essence, he can’t help but think that while its sweet tanginess does not compare to the coppery, velvety richness of the crimson in your veins—nothing ever will, for his is the blood that courses through them—it may well be the second best thing he has ever tasted. Gliding his tongue upwards once more, he uses it to gently massage the raw bundle of nerves crowning your mound, leaving a trail of saliva mixed with your fluids between it and your twitching cunt, which then dribbles down onto your thighs. Placing a hand on each side of your hips, he pulls you closer to him, and the shift causes his fangs to graze the sensitive skin of your folds, in response to which your eyes water and you clutch the silk sheets under you both. Taking no notice of your desperate reaction, he continues swirling his tongue up and down your wetness, gently sucking on the tender skin, eagerly eating you up as if you were a full-course meal served especially for him, just begging to be ravished.

You feel heat pooling in your lower abdomen, and at this rate it won’t be long before you are brought to the edge. Momentarily forgetting the fact that you are supposed to be pretending to be asleep as you lose yourself in the crescendo of your release, you arch your back, leaning on your elbows to support your weight, and as soon as you do, he mercilessly pulls away from you, leaving your dripping core empty and aching. Eyes closed still, you let out a soft mewl in protest, which you regret as soon it leaves your lips, for once Astarion notices your desperation, you are done for.

Still unsure if he has already perceived your awakened state or if he believes your body to be involuntarily reacting to his touch, you dare not produce any further sounds. Having cruelly left your throbbing arousal unattended, his tongue now glides its way up your stomach, leaving a glistening wet mess in its wake. Upon reaching your chest, his lips latch onto your left breast, your perked nub fitting perfectly inside his mouth. He sucks on it ever so tenderly, teasing it with a pointed tongue and lightly scraping the squishy surrounding flesh with his fangs. One of his hands leaves its place on your hip and finds its way between your legs, and you let out a sigh of relief when you feel a long, elegant finger ghosting over your clit. The other hand slides further down to the curve of your ass, and his blunt nails dig into your soft skin, giving it a firm squeeze.

The pad of the wandering digit finally presses down onto the engorged flesh of your reddened knot, massaging it leisurely in circular patterns, and another finger suddenly slides between your folds, parting them gently. Unable to contain yourself, you roll your hips into his hand, which you soon learn is a grave mistake as he tightens his grip on your ass, applying such pressure that come morning, bruises are certain to form on the pale skin, which he will then tenderly kiss better while looking apologetically at you from under thick lashes; and you will forgive him, as you always do. Lifting his head up from your now rouged, swollen nipple, he readjusts his position above you, using his body weight to pin you down and hold you in place. He lets go of your ass, firmly grasping at your jaw with his newly freed hand, and even from behind closed eyes you can feel the intensity of his gaze. This does not bode well, and try as you might you cannot ignore the sickening pinch in the pit of your stomach as his eyes scrutinize every inch of your face—has he noticed? Is a punishment in order? Will he deny you your release?

“Open up, darling. Your mouth.” The commanding tone with which Astarion vocalizes the otherwise unassuming words is all it takes to placate your erratic thoughts, and obeying is for you as natural as breathing—or it would be, if you were still alive. Once you do as he says, you feel his thumb pressing on your lower lip, forcing it further down. He slides the digit inside your mouth, gagging you slightly, and your lips instinctively close around it. “Good girl,” he purrs, and encouraged by the tenderness of his praise, you start lightly sucking on it, coating it with saliva. For a short moment, he becomes entranced by the feeling of your wet tongue massaging his skin, and his mind wanders to the thought of your plump lips wrapped tightly around his cock. This prompts him to once again start bucking his hips, rubbing the now obvious bulge underneath his pants against your stomach, but this time his rhythm is much more frantic, more desperate.

Relief washes over you as you feel the fingers still in your mound resume their fondling, the one on your clit now applying greater pressure, handling it much less gently, yet just as skillfully, his knowledge of all the ins and outs of your body having always been something he prided himself on. The other makes its way down from its place between your folds, plunging into you as soon as it reaches your entrance. Your body jerks in response, and your moan is muffled by his thumb in your mouth—when he then plunges another, stretching you open without giving you time to adjust, you involuntarily bite down on the digit gagging you, sinking your fangs into his flesh. He grimaces, and you can tell you have hit an artery, because the flow of the thick, hot blood running down your throat is alarmingly heavy. However, rather than pulling away, he lets you drink, curling his fingers inside you and massaging the tight walls of your cunt with his knuckles. The rich taste of his crimson lingering in your tongue and spreading inside your body, mixing with yours within your veins and making them pulsate with life—pure, raw, vibrating life—works as a powerful aphrodisiac, heightening all your senses, and the feeling of him fucking you with his fingers is all it takes for you to come undone on his hand, muscles spasming and clenching around the digits, coating them in the sweet nectar of your release.

Just as you reach your climax, Astarion’s own teeth sink into the indentations marking the otherwise smooth skin of your neck. You instinctively cock your head to the side to grant him more access, letting him feed on you as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, sucking on his thumb still. His blood flows from him to you and then back to him, and the sheer intimacy of it brings you so close together that it’s as if you have merged into one single being. You can no longer tell where you end and he begins, as your minds touch and mesh and then untangle again, in a sensual, chaotic dance, where you both sway to the rhythm of his heartbeat. And while the connection lasts, his emotions rush through you and yours through him, rendering words meaningless as the everlasting adoration, the inebriating, all-consuming love you share, no matter how tainted, is laid bare before you, in all its wickedness and allure.

“Fear not: you are mine.”

You finally open your eyes, letting go of his thumb, and as the fog from the afterglow subsides you notice his fingers remain inside you still, gliding effortlessly up and down your twitching walls, which are now lubricated with slick and come; your skin tingles from the overstimulation, but the sensation is not unwelcome. With the hand you have just freed, he holds your head in place while he continues to feed, and you both stay like this for a while, his fingers buried inside your cunt and his fangs in your neck, where they rightfully belong. His little grunts as he drinks from you and the feeling of his hardened cock pressed flush against your stomach rekindle the ache between your legs, causing the living blood now coursing through your veins to flow to your tender core.

Having drank to his heart’s content, Astarion pulls away from you, making you wince at the sudden emptiness as both his fangs and fingers leave your body. No longer plagued by the perpetual, agonizing hollowness of vampiric hunger, his only reason for feeding on you still is the invigorating thrill of your taste on his tongue and your blood pulsating in his arteries; you were his first, after all, having offered him the greatest gift of them all when you had no good reason to. Killing you on the evening he first revealed his true nature had never been out of the question, and it puzzles him still why you would willingly surrender this sanguine gift to a vampire stalking you in the night—a pitiful creature, hiding in the shadows, with murderous intent and offering you nothing but pain and misery. He is reminded of your foolishness and naïveté every time he sinks his fangs into your soft flesh, and the familiarity of it is oddly comforting to him.

Not bothering to wipe the red smear on his chin, he brings his hand up to your mouth once more, only this time his digits are covered in your juices. A single look into his crimson eyes, clouded with lust, tells you all you need to know, and you eagerly obey the silent order, wrapping your lips around his fingers.

“Ever so obedient, aren’t you, my sweet?” His honeyed words and impish smile send shivers down your spine, and unable to talk as your tongue flicks and swirls, lapping at your own sticky essence, you look up at him through your lashes with coquettish demureness; his pretty little spawn, always so good to him, so docile, so devoted. The very sight of you makes his cock twitch with desire. “I do find it charming when you play your darling little games. Mostly because you are awful at them. You did know I was aware the entire time, didn’t you?,” although his smile widens, there is a hint of danger in his voice, “That you were awake.”

As his blood within you rushes to your cheeks, spreading to the tips of your ears, Astarion’s expression darkens, and the lust in his eyes grows wilder, more desperate. There is something endlessly enticing about how bashful and girlish you look with your face hot and flushed with his crimson, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, and it makes him want to devour you whole. He abruptly slides his fingers out of your mouth, and the glistening string of your fluids that forms between your lips and his digits breaks off as he uses that same hand to grab your neck and bring your face close to his. Once you are mere inches apart, he stops for a moment, the proximity between you such that you can feel his long lashes brushing against your skin and see the flecks in different shades of red swimming in his irises. The stillness in the air makes you acutely aware of the sound of his heartbeat, and it paradoxically both comforts and torments you. Such is the nature of your relationship; yearning and sorrow, worship and regret, lust and greed. The duality of it is not lost to you, but you’re past the point of coming up with justifications, for it is far too late for redemption. You made your choice, he made his, and now his burden is yours to bear. It matters not if outsiders looking in cannot make sense of it, as the bond between you was never meant to be understood by anyone else—however ugly and twisted it may be perceived by those around you, it is undeniably a bond of love, one you are willing to protect even if it costs you everything.

“Until the world falls down.”

When he finally closes the distance between you and crashes his mouth into yours, your mind is wiped clean of any semblance of coherent thought and your senses are filled with nothing but him—his scent, his warmth, his taste. He hungrily parts your lips with his tongue as soon as your skin touches his, your teeth clicking in his desperation, and his grip on your neck tightens. You feel tears well up in your eyes, some spilling through your lashes and rolling down your cheeks, your repressed emotions overflowing as you lose yourself in the fierce intensity of his kiss. You want him, you need him, you hate him; you love him, oh how dearly you love him, more than life itself. He explores the inside of your mouth, wantonly, passionately, only stopping to suck on your bottom lip, nipping it with his fangs and lapping at the droplets of blood blooming from the punctured flesh. Once he pulls away, gasping for air, you are both a disheveled mess, lips swollen and bruised and red. Not yet letting go of you, his fingers wrapped around your throat still, he guides your head back down, laying it on the soft feather pillow, only to then straighten up his torso, hand on your neck holding you in place and darkened eyes looking down upon you. From your position below him, he looks ethereal, almost godly, as the moon casts a pale halo around his frame, shining its light on the naked skin of his upper body.

He holds this position for a while, silently studying your face, and as he does, his intense gaze seems to gradually soften, mellowing out into almost tenderness. You feel the pressure of his fingers on your skin lessen, and then cease completely as he frees you, raising his hand up to cup your cheek. His thumb traces the trail of dried tears, and you lean into his soothing touch, eyes wettening once more. Taking notice of this, he leans back down and brushes his lips against the teardrops threatening to escape from your lashes, drying them before they fall.

“Shh, my darling, hush.” The softness in Astarion’s voice and the gentleness of his caresses as he runs his fingers through your hair are all you ever yearned for, all you ever needed, and yet with every touch your chest tightens and you feel a pang of loneliness and guilt tugging at your unbeating heart, for this is what you want, but not what you deserve. You failed him, just as he failed the others, and your regrets bind you together for eternity as the thread of your fate entangles with his in a constricting embrace—so is it too greedy, to let yourself be selfish and indulge in his warmth before the sun rises? Is even someone as broken and wicked as you allowed a moment of reprieve, however brief? You know not the answer to these questions, nor do you think you ever will. All you know is that there’s nowhere else you want to be but in his arms, no matter how much it hurts, for you’ll endure the pain as long as you are by his side.

“Kiss me,” you quietly plead, your supplication barely a whisper, prompting him to pull away slightly to look into your eyes. He takes a moment to try and read your expression, his gaze sharp, inquisitive, stripping you off all your defenses and laying you bare before him. A short time passes, and without saying a word, he lowers his head down again, lips brushing against yours, their pillowy softness and the taste of your blood still lingering on his skin shrouding your mind in a white fog. You raise both of your arms and wrap them around his neck, bringing him closer as your mouth matches his movements, the desperation of before now manifesting more tenderly, more lovingly, but just as intensely. One of his hands remains on your cheek as he kisses you, and with the other, he finally unlaces his pants, freeing his neglected erection, which by now is slick from the precome leaking from its engorged head. The color of the sky outside slowly begins to brighten, now a beautiful blend of periwinkle and cyan, and as the twilight peaks and starts to reach its end, Astarion decides he has waited long enough—he will take you here and now, before the merciless, harsh light of the sun engulfs you both.

Feeling his hardness against your thigh, you readily comply, spreading your legs apart. You need this just as much as he does; to be one with him, carnally, for your souls have long merged, and there is no you without him just as there is no him without you. As he lines up with your entrance, his lips leave yours and he presses your foreheads together, staring into your eyes with reassuring tenderness. You feel the tip of his cockhead flush against your dripping sex—the reddened, puffed up skin feels warm, and thinking of how it is swollen from his blood in your veins is all it takes for him to finally snap and give into his desires. He slides inside of you in a single thrust, the wetness from your juices facilitating his entry as he stretches your walls to accommodate his large size. You try to bite back a whimper, your eyes once again tingling and prickling with the promise of tears as one of your hands finds its way to the back of his head and your fingers become entangled in his silvery curls. Not moving immediately, he waits a while, giving you time to adjust. You revel in the familiar feeling of his cock stuffed inside your core, the pain and warmth of it, and you wonder if he too can find comfort nowhere else but in your flesh, as it is only when filled with him that you are able to hold together the broken pieces of your descended mind.

The hand that had been cupping your cheek now rests on your waist as he moves his head to nuzzle the curve of your neck, taking in your scent. Ever so slowly he starts rolling his hips back and forth, planting gentle kisses on the delicate skin where his fangs had been buried just moments ago, now stained with patches of dried blood. You close your eyes, still trying to hold back the tears, hugging him as tightly as you can, or as tightly as he’ll let you. His pace is at first languid, sensual, allowing you to feel the entirety of him as he massages your aching, tender walls, still sensitive and spasming from your orgasm. He grunts in your ear, prompting you to start undulating your own hips, doing your best to match his rhythm. Emboldened by this, he moves his hands down to grab your ass, tilting your pelvis up and pulling you closer to him. Just as desperate to feel him as deeply as physically possible, you wrap your legs around his midriff, allowing him to reach the innermost parts of your throbbing cunt. When the tip of his cock brushes against the spongy skin of your cervix, your gut tightens and you cry out for him, unable to contain yourself.

“Astarion…”

The sound of his name in your lips, so very eager, so very sweet, is all the encouragement he needs, and the once languid movements give way to more vigorous pounding, the lewd sound of smacking flesh echoing in the otherwise quiet room as he snaps his hips and buries himself deeper inside your aching core. Your body rocks in rhythm with his thrusts, the tears in your eyes finally escaping your lashes and running down your face, a chaotic culmination of all the pleasure, all the hurt, all the desire and all the devotion brewing deep inside your heart as your raging feelings come to a boil. No one can understand, no one will understand—and yet, as he fucks you senseless in the early hours, pumping his cock in and out of you with lascivious abandon, none of it matters. You hold him even closer, pressing your squishy breasts flush against the sweaty, glistening skin of his chest. He moans at the sensation, intensifying his pace and using his hands on your ass to tilt your pelvis higher, pushing your folded legs, which are still wrapped around him, as close to your upper body as your flexibility will allow it. You feel the muscles in your thighs stretching and burning, but this only excites you further, and the soft whimpers leaving your lips escalate in frequency and loudness alike.

As he continues pounding into you, Astarion’s kisses on your neck become more passionate, more heated, going from pecks, to licking, to sucking, until eventually he gives in and once again sinks his fangs into the bruised flesh. You mewl faintly and your grip on his hair tightens, in response to which he bites down on you harder, nails raking across the skin of your ass as his thrusts grow fiercer, more violent. The message immediately gets through to you—the cheeky little spawn must know her place—so you obediently let go of his curls, although your digits remain entangled in them still; yet he does not slow down his pace, ramming into you with such force that you are afraid you will have trouble walking once he is finished. Mercifully, one of his hands leaves its place on your ass to hover above your swollen clit, which twitches desperately as his cock resurfaces and then disappears again inside your cunt. He grasps it between two deft fingers, massaging the engorged bundle of nerves as a reward for your obedience, and that is all it takes for tension to again start building up in your groin.

“You have given me everything.”

His digits on your tender bud; your blood running down his throat; his cock slamming into you, stretching open your tight walls—you are so very close to climaxing again, and yet you don’t want the moment to end; you don’t want morning to come, breaking the spell and robbing your lover from you, as it always so cruelly does. The tragic inevitability of it is however unaffected by the infinitude of your existence, a gift that was also bequeathed to you by him, and enveloped by the ice-cold embrace of the memories of your death, your body comes alive as you are pushed over the edge, your twitching cunt fluttering and contracting around him, creaming and squirting your sweet juices all over his length.

As you slump back and go limp is his arms, Astarion unlatches his mouth from your neck and props up his torso to marvel at your image as you bask in the glory of your release—so maddeningly beautiful, cheeks and plump lips flushed bright pink with what remains of his lifeblood within you; his consort, his spawn, his to use as he pleases, his and nobody else’s. While he continues fucking you through your orgasm, all you can hear are his low moans and grunts and the squelching sounds of your wetness as he ruts into you with ever increasing furor. You can tell he is also close by the way he holds your hips with both of his hands, pushing his own against them with almost vicious ferocity while you remain slumped on the headboard, tits bouncing cutely with every thrust. The daylight seeping through the curtains now brightens up the room, and as you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, you notice how handsome he looks illuminated by the gentle glow of the rising sun, sweat beading his temple and dripping down his chin and nose.

“Gods…” he groans, voice raspy with lust, and with one final push he empties himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his seed, which feels thick and warm flooding your tender walls. Still panting and sucking in sharp breaths, he falls on top of you, not bothering to pull his cock out of your still spasming cunt, chest flush against yours and head burrowed in the crook of your neck. Spillover runs down your thighs and soaks into the wrinkled sheets, but neither of you bother cleaning it up, the resulting stain surely to give the maids good reason to blush later.

You bring a hand up to his silky curls once more, gently running your fingers through them as you feel the calming thumping of his slowing heartbeat vibrating against your cold skin. As the dawn finally breaks over the still sleeping city, signaling the beginning of a new day in your undead life—for better or for worse—you find comfort in the warmth of his flesh and the sound of his ragged breathing as it gradually steadies. All your suffering, all your pain; if even your death is required to bring him to life, then so be it. He will live for the both of you, and you will love him for it. Forever—for good.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

[crystallinestars]

How they choose an engagement ring for you

Short little headcanons (scenarios?) about how the boys go about picking the perfect engagement ring for you.

Features: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, Ayato, Itto, Kaveh, and Alhaitham. Reader's gender isn't mentioned, but Ayato's part implies fem!reader.

🦉Diluc – The more time Diluc spent with you, his lover, the more sure he was that you are the one. He knows he wants to spend he rest of his life with you, and so he decides to ask you to marry him. But first, he must find the perfect engagement ring to convey his sincere feelings for you. The Ragnvindr family is of noble origins, and Diluc is no stranger to expensive and beautiful jewelry. He decides to have your ring custom-made to ensure it encompasses all your favorite design elements. Diluc wants it to appeal to your tastes as much as possible because he wants you to like it, and he’s more than willing to spend extra mora to achieve this. The engagement ring will look beautiful and feature a garnet as the centerpiece—specially requested by Diluc. Garnet symbolizes unconditional love and protection for one’s partner, and Diluc swears to love you unconditionally and keep you safe for as long as he lives, even if he doesn’t say it aloud. He takes a more traditional approach in asking you to marry him, first wining and dining you before taking you out to a scenic place. He’ll get down on one knee and show you the ring, finally asking the question. It will be one of the few moments in his life where he will bare his heart to you and leave himself vulnerable.

🦚Kaeya – He never thought he’d find someone he’d want to marry, but here he is, browsing through Marjorie’s selection of engagement rings out of drunken impulse. He imagines how each ring would look on your hand, taking into account whether you would like the style and color because he knows your preferences down to a science. Kaeya tells himself this isn’t that serious, it’s just a fun little ‘what-if’, but he sees the perfect ring he knows will look stunning on your hand, and the same drunken impulse makes him buy it. Kaeya considers returning the ring when he sobers up the following day, but something stops him. He keeps telling himself he’ll do it later, but that later never comes. Days turn to weeks, and week into months, and that ring still sits in its box in his pocket. He’s joked about marrying you plenty of times before as a form of flirting, but asking the real thing feels impossible to Kaeya. It’s not until you find the ring by pure accident and piece things together yourself that the impossible turns to reality. Kaeya will play it cool and try to make light of the situation, but internally he will be a nervous wreck. If you accept, he’ll be over the moon, but if you reject him, he’ll be crushed.

🐋Childe – Nothing is too expensive for Childe to afford, especially if it’s a gift for you. While picking out an engagement ring for you, he will focus more on the look and style of the accessory rather than the price. His main concern is finding something he thinks you will like and will look good on you; he’s literally not concerned about the price at all. Childe buys you a ring with a large gemstone in your favorite color and an engraving on the band about his undying love for you. The Harbinger loves spoiling you by giving you gifts since it’s one of his love languages, and to him, nothing speaks louder than an engagement ring of the highest quality money can afford. Plus, an extravagant and expensive-looking ring will clearly indicate to other men that you are taken and provided for. It’s both a show of love and a means to stake his claim. He’ll wine and dine you before posing the question and pulling out the ring. Childe will be visibly excited because he really wants to take your relationship to the next stage—he knows he wants a future with you, and he hopes you do too.

🔶Zhongli – Another man that’s not concerned about the price when purchasing you the ring (Hu Tao will chew him out for putting the bill on Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s tab again). Zhongli has a very discerning eye when it comes to minerals and craftsmanship. He carefully appraises every ring on display, studying the quality of the metal in the band, the cut and polish of the gemstone, and the skillfulness of the craftsmanship. He will easily spot any flaws in the ring’s design or any fakes that a sneaky merchant might try to sell, so rest assured that you will receive a ring made of only top quality materials. He takes his time in selecting the perfect ring. His love for you is pure and true, and he wants the ring to reflect that. Anything less than the best won’t convey his feelings for you properly, or so he thinks. He’ll take you out for dinner first and then on a nice stroll around Liyue Harbor before asking the question and pulling out the ring, being very charming and polite as he does. He’s very calm about the whole thing, but will hide his disappointment if you say no.

🧋Ayato – After the passing of his parents, Ayato kept their wedding and engagement rings as a memento of sorts. The rings symbolized the loving bond between his parents, and he wanted to remember that. When Ayato developed a deep, intimate bond of his own with you, the thought of marrying you crossed his mind. He knew he could easily afford a high-quality, expensive engagement ring since he was the head of the Kamisato Clan, but he ended up choosing to give you his mother’s engagement ring. The passion and love that his father harbored when giving the ring to his mother are the same feelings Ayato feels towards you. In his mind, this engagement ring is the perfect physical representation of those feelings, and also a good way to welcome you into the Kamisato family. He would be slightly nervous about asking you to marry him, but he would hide his nervousness well. He truly wants to form a family with you, but he’s aware being the spouse to the Kamisato Clan head will come with it’s fair share of responsibilities, and he will understand if you choose to reject him. But if you accept, then Ayato hopes to use his parents’ old wedding rings during your marriage ceremony too.

🐂Itto – It is well known that Itto barely has a single mora to his name. The man can barely afford to buy food much less an engagement ring. Itto thought about giving you a cheap imitation of one, or crafting one out of flowers because it’s the thought that counts, right? But after some thought, he decides that no, he wants to get you a proper ring to show you how serious he is about wanting to marry you. With his mind made up, Itto will work hard to earn money by taking on various odd jobs. He can’t hold down a single job for long, but for the sake of your ring, he tries. It takes the oni a long time to scrounge up the necessary money because he will turn down any help from his gang members. He wants to obtain the ring through his own effort and nobody else’s. Itto won’t be able to afford a fancy ring with the money he saves up, so expect it to look simple but tasteful (thank Shinobu later for helping Itto choose a nice ring for you and avoid getting scammed). His proposal will be public and flashy, but he’d be really nervous about asking you to marry him, even dropping the ring and almost losing it because of his nerves, but rest assured you will receive it.

🍷Kaveh – The architect is very picky when it comes to choosing you gifts, more so this time since it’s an engagement ring to you from him. Kaveh went to a local jeweler to look at their selection of engagement rings, but he wasn’t satisfied with anything they had. This ring’s jewel is the wrong size, that ring’s metal is the wrong shade, and this one’s design isn’t pretty enough for your likeness. Disappointed, Kaveh decides that he will make you the perfect engagement ring himself. He takes weeks to design it, filling his sketchbooks with sketches of potential designs and crossing off failed attempts before he finally settles on one he thinks will look perfect on your hand. When the time comes to craft it, Kaveh buys only the best quality materials, taking on more commissions to be able to afford them. He works on the ring in his spare time, being careful to ensure every aspect of it looks as perfect as his artistic skills will allow. Once its finally finished, Kaveh feels proud of himself, confident that his ring will be one of the most beautiful pieces of jewelry you will ever see—and it honestly is. Even so, he’s still nervous about actually popping the question and giving it to you. When he finally works up the courage, he will take you out on a super romantic date that’s been planned down to every detail. The only unpredictable part about it will be your response to his proposal.

🎧Alhaitham – He’s not exactly frugal when it comes to buying things he likes or thinks are necessary, but he won’t buy you a super expensive engagement ring. In fact, he will get you a simple silver ring with minimal decoration. Haitham prioritizes function over fashion. He doesn’t see a point in giving you an extravagant and flashy ring that would probably hinder you in your daily activities when a simple ring will serve the exact same purpose and be less bothersome. But just because it doesn’t look extravagant doesn’t mean it’s cheap. Oh no, Haitham makes sure the metal is the real deal and made by a professional craftsman. He understands this would be a big step in your relationship, and he wants the ring to convey the seriousness of his feelings for you. The Scribe also won’t make a fanfare out of gifting it to you, he will simply pose the question during a calm and private moment between the two of you. He won’t show any nervousness or excitement on his face, and will be very understanding if you refuse but a part of him does hope you will agree. Haitham seldom likes to spend his time in the company of others, so for him to want you to be a permanent part of his life speaks volumes to how much he loves you. Not having you be a part of his life would certainly leave a mark on him.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Although you reciprocate Sanji's affection, you're not quite ready to let yourself be vulnerable with someone. Love, however, is patient - and Sanji is nothing if not loving.]

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Ningyo Archipelago earned its name from a rather tragic local legend: about a boy who fell in love with a mermaid, ningyo, but he was deathly afraid of the water. He stood on the shore, making a small step towards the sea each day. And the mermaid patiently waited for him, promising that he had nothing to be afraid of because she was looking out for him. Now, depending on who you ask, some of the villagers claim that the mermaid is still waiting for her lover while others are convinced they have already united. You're not quite sure which version you prefer.

At first, the myth seemed a bit cliche to you - undying, unconditional, selfless love. It belongs in a fairytale, along with leprechauns and a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. After all, no reasonable human is deluded enough to throw away their life for a love that may be. If Hell is paved with good intentions, then empty promises decorate its gates.

But your dismissal of the local legend quickly dissipates as guilt and longing tighten your chest:

Sanji.

You tried to keep him out at first, out of mercy for your own patchwork heart. Told yourself that each of his sweet words and skilfully crafted compliments were a consequence of his persona and not intimate feelings. But no matter how warily you guarded your heart, he still managed to find a way in. Some juvenile, innocent part of you wanted to welcome his affection with open arms, scream at the top of your lungs that you yearn for him in equal measure as he longs for you. However, the other aspect of you, the one that remembers the horrors you've seen and still feels the dread lingering under your skin after... well, everything - that part begs you to keep your feelings at bay or get a grip on yourself and quit this nonsense. What if you open up to Sanji and he finds you gruesome? Will he see your torn heart only to think its baggage too heavy? Or if... the history repeats itself.

No. Never. You can't let it happen again.

But then, you also can't live like this, hidden within yourself forever. You don't want to. Time goes on, yet you're stuck in place.

This fight with your own mind and soul has brought you to this quiet evening by the campfire. Archipelago's natives are most hospitable people, rejoicing at the handful of guests that have come to their shores. A night filled with delicacies, local moonshine, dances you knew no steps of. It all made for a heartfelt, happy celebration. Hours went by, soon energy dissipated and intoxication kicked in. One by one, both your friends and the natives fell asleep.

The last people standing are, as if fortune smiled down on the island, Sanji and you. He's sitting on the ground, back leaning against a log as he stares at the fire, thinking about something. Once in a while, he takes a sip of his drink. The light of untamted, yellow flames waltz across his face. Staring at him from afar, you wonder whether his hair would smell of campfire smoke if you snuggled to his side. Would the colour of his eyes turn closer to indigo in the darkness of the night?

You shake your head slightly. If you want to finally have this much-belated conversation with him, you need to think straight. You can fantasize about Sanji after he gives you a positive answer.

A playful smile enters Sanji's face when he notices you approaching. "Am I drunk or is that really an angel coming my way?" Despite the amount of alcohol he's consumed, he doesn't slur his words.

"More of a Devil's consort," you answer as you sit down next to him on the ground. Thankfully, your half-serious comment covers well your tension.

It's almost self-sabotage on your part that you sat a mere inch away from him. Something about his presence scrambles your thoughts, turning carefully prepared monologue into disjointed daydreams about the man next to you.

"You can lead me astray if you want," Sanji retorts in a low voice. If only he knew how much you'd love to.

Your breath hitches in your throat as your chest tightens further. Some primal fear residing in your bones tells you to run away, to discard the love you think you're feeling and stay in your safe, alienated shell. So what if he may be the best thing that has ever happened to you if this heartache he's bound to leave will surely be the final nail in your coffin.

"Right, about leading you..." you begin in a trembling voice.

The fear makes it hard to breathe, which doesn't escape Sanji's attention.

"What's going on, sweetheart?" he asks in a soft, concerned voice as his hand gently lays on top of yours.

You clench your other hand into a fist. The only way out of this situation is through and you're not sure if your both brave and strong enough to make the journey. Your fingernails will surely leave marks on the soft skin on the inside of you palm.

"I'm not oblivious to your advances, Sanji," you finally blurt out. The bluntness of your tone is a little too harsh than you wanted. "You're quite up-front about your feelings. And I..." you hang your voice. The words simply refuse to come out of your mouth as though a witch had put a curse on you.

"No, I get it," he nods along. Sanji's expression falls like he's about to crumble. He clenches his jaw before forcefully making himself continue in a sombre tone. "You don't like me in the same way. It's fine, really. I might die of a broken heart first but I'll be fine."

Dear Gods above and below, this is going way worse than your "What can go wrong?" scenario.

"It's not that, Sanji!" you exclaim suddenly. Equally quick you mumble an apology upon seeing Sanji's startled expression. Then, he furrows his eyebrows further, growing even more worried about you. The adoration and pain in his eyes break something in you. It's as if your consciousness has taken a step back and allowed a flood of words to spill out of your mouth. "I wish I could find the words to express how much you mean to me. That you're the only thing on my mind, day and night. But I've been through shit you don't even know about and I just... I think I need some time before we can act on our feelings."

We.

What a nice word. To be part of a union with another; to belong to someone. To never truly be alone.

The worry disappears from his beautiful, blue eyes. In turn, their expression becomes softer than you've ever seen. Sanji moves the hand that lay on top of yours to intertwine your fingers.

"I'll wait for you," he says casually, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Although you did consider this as a possible outcome, you never actually believed he'd say that. You weren't prepared for someone to be selfless towards you. It's never happened before.

"You don't have to," you try to dismiss him. Everything will be easier, but not better, if he changes his mind. "The world is filled with amazing people, I'm sure there's someone else who will love you better."

"I've already found the one I had been looking for, sweetheart," he answers slowly. Sanji brings your hand up to his lips and places a fleeting, chaste kiss on your skin. The softness of it all makes you want to cry and claw your own heart out. Why does it feel so good and so frightening at the same time?

"I don't know how long it will take me to get comfortable and open up." Your throat is too tight to speak comfortably. Tears pool in your eyes. "To be vulnerable with you."

"I will wait for you for an eternity if I have to. Whatever you need, just ask, little love."

Why does he have to love you beyond reason? Why is it so easy for him to break down your walls?

"I'm not sure I'm worth all this trouble," you whisper your confession into the silence of the night.

"Don't ever think you're a burden," he reprimands you. "You deserve only the best and I will be the happiest man alive if you let me be the one to provide. I love you more than you can imagine. I want to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

Having no strength to hold back, you burst into tears. Is it the relief that he's willing to put up with your fears? Or maybe the happiness that he still chooses to love you? It's hard to say. Your vision is blurry as tears roll down your cheeks. No matter how much you try to control yourself, you can't.

Sanji gently wipes away your tears. His gesture is almost fearful as though the worst thing he could do is force his affection too fast for your comfort. What if he hurts you? In Sanji's mind, there's no greater sin he could commit.

"Can I hold you?" he whispers his question.

"Yes, please," you manage to babble between sniffles.

He puts his hand under your knees and effortlessly places you across his lap. Sanji's arms wrap tightly around your quivering body. His hold feels like a sanctuary.

"Thank you for telling me," he says quietly against your hair. "It was very brave of you."

You don't answer, only further nuzzling into his shoulder. Huh... He does smell of campfire smoke.

[namika-saya]

Sctir and its multiple forms of love

After finally finishing sctir. I wanted to jot down my thoughts over the multiple forms of love shown in sctir. Bc there are A Lot. Some more healthy than others. Some more incomprehensible than others. Of course, spoilers ahead.

Familial Love:

.Han siblings : The epitome and exemplary example, the Han siblings have undying support and love for each other. The special thing about the Han brothers is that they're not just brothers, they're like parent and child. Han Yoojin raised Han Yoohyun himself shortly after hyh was born, and they continued to rely and put each other first until they were forcibly parted by circumstances. The fact that hyh is the ward and hyj is the guardian immensely helps their dynamic, as even with their differences hyh will respect and listen to hyung.

.Luire siblings: They're similar to the Han brothers and yet so different, just by a switch between the roles of guardian and ward (and their power levels). Riette is a born S-class, which means that she's unable to see things normally or have human empathy. Despite loving her brother enough to die for him, she has given him immense trauma in not respecting his autonomy and forced him to do many dangerous things that is pretty much abuse. In the end, they manage to find a balance, and Riette is still trying her best to understand Noah and have him forgive her.

.Sigma & Puppeteer: They're so interesting. One was borne bc of the other. The other can't exist without the one. They're each other's ward and guardian. Sigma allowed Puppeteer to gain sentience by continually pumping mana into him, while Puppeteer's efforts keep Sigma alive and existing. They care very much for each other and would do anything for the other.

"Platonic" Love:

. Shj & Stw : even if it's never explicitly said, their dynamic is like that of an old married couple where one is tired but used to the other's shenanigans. The Moon and its Eclipse. Fated enemies, but each of their stubbornness in staying human gives them an equal ground that allows them to care and respect for each other. Stw is literally one of the only two existences that shj can ever come to love.

. Shj & Hyj : also a lovely pair with a big contrast. The ordinary and the extraordinary. One who has it all and one who has lost everything. The man at the pinnacle and the man wading through the mud on the bottom. Hyj is literally the only person that sees shj as a human (at first). It's through hyj's love and care that allows shj to love life and carve out an existence for himself, for others to care about him like a human, and for shj to finally gain autonomy over his life. Shj's love and care for hyj allows hyj to be more confident about himself, soothes his worries, and as someone he can lean on without having to act as a caretaker.

"Romantic" Love:

.Chatterbox towards Jellyfish: now we're diving into the more unsavory forms of love in sctir. Well, chatterbox is obsessed with jellyfish. Some might say that is or isn't love, and both would be correct. (I jokingly call chatterbox an incel) Chatterbox loves Jellyfish, but he is selfish. He doesn't care about anything jellyfish cares about, he only cared about having her by his side. His attempt to turn hyj into luka peigya is disgusting, attempting to even modify his body surgically and put it in a glass cage. He's disgusting, only caring about his "revenge" and "love", neither caring about what the object of his love thinks nor if his actions make any sense.

Unconditional Love:

. Cresent Moon: this one's the most difficult one, especially if we take the difference between og cm and current cm. Cresent Moon's unconditional love should be impossible, but she manages it bc her love is inhuman at its core. A love that is equal for everyone, she will love you when you're at your highest and when you're at your lowest. She doesn't care what state of being you are in, and that love is no different than indifference. She will do horrible things to you in the name of love, as long as it's for the greater good. She is the cradle of Transcendents, just how many planets and civilizations have died indirectly by her hand as a result of that? Originally, she had a bit of humanity, loving people and still listening to them, but after morphing into a wish granting system she went mad from the wishes of those trying to live. What she did to shj mightve been the easiest way to save the universe, but it is unbearably cruel for her to try and take away his autonomy, humanity, and identity in order to do so.

All in all, the main theme of sctir is that love goes hand in hand with respect. Love without respect leads to disaster, and it is when one loves and respect one another can that love be strong enough to save the world. The end.

[thatstonedwriter]

⋆｡˚ 「More than Enough」⋆｡˚

◉ Sinopsis; comforting their s/o, who struggles with their self-worth

◉ feat; M&M, Fizzarolli, Striker

◉ A/n- kinda been in my feelings for a few days, but it's alright. Also haven't written for Striker in a hot minute so I'm deciding to give it a try

___˙•˚∘✮🌙ᯓ🪐˙•˚∘___

Moxxie and Millie also struggle with self-esteem and self-worth, so when you're feeling down, they have a good idea of what might be able to cheer you up.

Moxxie, ever the thespian, writes you a ton- and I mean a ton- of little notes, poems, and even songs- all declaring his unconditional, undying love for you and Millie. It's not generic love songs either- what Moxxie writes are the most heartfelt, sincere declarations of love you'll ever hear

Dude will also follow you around all day like a sidekick- actually. This guy takes the Hype Man position very seriously. Whenever you're talking, he stands to your side, hip jutted out and arms crossed. He's so sassy for no reason

Millie actually takes a more lowkey approach- don't get me wrong, she and Moxxie absolutely smother you with love- but Millie's lowkey nature helps balance out Moxxie's grand gestures.

Millie is pretty observant, so she's able to pick up on your subtle mood changes and habits fast. Wrapping your arms around your stomach? Millie beats you to it and has her arm around your waist. nervous fidgeting? Millie holds your hand, and gives you a reassuring smile.

Of course, they each have their own off days- sometimes y'all take a collective self-care day which is just code for you sitting on the couch, ordering food delivery and watching dumb shows; no matter the circumstance, Moxxie and Millie will always love and support you unconditionally.

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

Fizzarolli knows exactly how it feels to think you're not living up to everyone's (or even your own) expectations. While Fizz knows there's no such thing as completely "getting rid of" these feelings, he will always do everything he can to reassure you.

Distractions are Fizz's specialty, so if you're feeling down, expect lots of jokes and random stories- its just his way of helping you get out of a negative mindset, even temporarily

Fizz is also the kind of partner to perform impromptu stand-up comedy acts when you're feeling down. Sit your ass on the couch with some snacks, because for the next thirty minutes, you're gonna watch Fizz attempt comedy while using a wooden spoon as a microphone.

It's funny to think Fizz knows a little bit of a bunch of different languages; wanna know what that results in? Him attempting to flirt with you in Italian or French but really just saying a bunch of random bullshit. It's the thought that counts, right?

Don't let the robotic limbs fool you- Fizz is very touchy-feely (unless you're uncomfortable with it). If you happen to be insecure about your physical apperance, Fizz is there to assure you, there's nothing to be insecure about. You're literally the most amazing being in his eyes

Fizzarolli knows how hard it can be to wrestle with your inner-critic, and that it takes a long time to unlearn the instinct of being self-critical. That's why he takes every moment he can to tell you everything you have to be proud of.

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

Striker isn't one for self-doubt or insecurity. There's not much room for it in his life, so it's harder for him to empathize with what you're going through.

when Striker does take the time to understand what you're going through, he's still confused. He's more pragmatic, so when you list your insecurities, all he can think is how wrong you are

It's a bit harsh, but hey, so is he. Though, he does understand there's a lot about relationships he has yet to learn- like how to be a bit more sensitive when dealing with feelings of self-worth

at first, Striker's solution is to tell you "prove yourself wrong," but when he sees it's not the most.. effective solution, he opts to just listening, and doing his best to be a pillar of support.

Rather than rushing to fix things or immediately tell you you're wrong, Striker sits and will listen to you for hours. He won't offer unwarranted advice or try to invalidate your feelings- he just listens.

And at the end of the day, Striker knows what there is to love about you. He may not express it as openly, but Striker cares about you, and hates seeing you beat yourself up. He hopes one day, you can see yourself the way he does- perfect as you are.

___‎˙•˚∘✮ 🔭๋࣭ᯓ🌙˙•˚∘___

[iheartliquor]

dam im back again guys i just been taking it east both my laptops r broken the good one and the old shitty onee so i havent been tumblring much . psycosis was the most terriffying experience of my life , and i still cant figure out wat was real and wat wasnt , but the main point is that it doesnt matter and wat matters is just takin care of myself and not letting that happen again . tbh my friends said oh we knew this was coming one day which kinda made me feel bad lol but at the same time like wat do u expect ? u can only get away w that type of sleep deprivation n constnat inebriation and completely ignoring ur mental illness for so long . im doing cbt books now and im refusing to see anything but the love and light in every situation , cause like , u kno j, as they say ,, where we dwell in consciousness is truly where we dwell in life . its just been kinda hard and strange and bad and i feel like i have to like , superstitiously take plan b now wheras before i knew i would be fine . or no i didnt i mean before i would let myself have that as a worry in the back of my mind but now i have to superstitiously take precautaions . i kno that can b its own type of ocd and im doin counciling for that . its all just been really stressful and terrifying .... iwanna tell about the experiecne but i dont wanna like , u kno , spread bullshit around or pay attention to it when its bullshit . some parts were so good and beautiful , but some parts were so terrifying . i really thought i was bein taken to hell , and then i really thought like , i was so convinced i kill:ed myeslf and hurt my mom in that way i promsised myself i would neverr ever hurt her . that wasnt real tho but it felt absolutely so real :((( , i think how many years i would read ghost stories online and that felt like searching for something divine more than bein raised w my lack of god or watever , anyways , yeah im not gunna dwell on everything but basically im doing a lot better , i can tell the full story once im far away from it . ive felt so strongly sometimes like , i wish i could go back , to the world i lived in for the majority of my life where theres nothing that can get me or make me do bad things . and i can , i can i can i can itll just take awhile to get to the mental place where i can plainly see it was all or mostly bullshit / hallucination . brutal summer to be hoenst for tthis gal , oh well , anyways , sending u all all my love . life is scary and life is crazy and its still just all a big mystery , no matter what anyone says , and itll b okay , and i think i'll getta see all the people i love again just in a different way . eternal love , unconditional love , undying love ..... yes those three are the theme of the day...... anyways ok everyone have a lovely evening, its precious beautiful august . summer means so much to me , being where im from , and ive just had to like barely barelyy survive it this year , idk . or i alwayss said Every Single Summer I Feel Like I Was Born Again but this year i really really know wat that feels like , just in the snese of im gunna take my mental problems seriously now , instead of ignore them like my whole entire life . I finally figured out why LIQUOR ALWAYS FELT LIKE MEDICINE..... hahaha ok . all love everybody .

[maochira]

Their ways of loving you (Blue Lock)

Lyrics are picked from The Power Of Love by OOMPH!

Also thanks to @kiyoomean and @chaosinanutshell for throwing some motivation at me to finally finish this 🫶

Tags: gn!reader, fluff, established relationship

Feels like fire - I'm so in love with you

Everything about your love makes him feel so alive, as if there's a fire burning in his heart that makes him feel so warm inside whenever your soft lips touch his.

-Shidou, Karasu, Bachira, Kaiser

Dreams are like angels - They keep bad at bay, bad at bay - Love is the light - Scaring darkness away

Ever since he fell in love with you, it feels like you're guarding him from pain without even having to try. You made his world light up and he can't imagine ever being without you anymore.

-Rin, Kunigami, Yukimiya, Tokimitsu, Nagi

I am so in love with you - Purge the soul - Make love your goal

There are many things he wants to achieve in life. Loving you wasn't part of those goals originally, but after he met you, winning your heart became part of his goals - which he quickly won.

-Rin, Isagi, Bachira, Reo, Kaiser

I'll protect you from the hooded claw - Keep the vampires from your door

The moment you became his, he swore to protect you from anything that could ever happen to you. He hates to see you being harmed by someone and he'd have an awfully hard time forgiving himself if he ever hurt you, even if it's on accident.

-Kunigami, Rin, Isagi, Barou, Sae

When the chips are down, I'll be around - With my undying, death-defying love for you

No matter at what point you are in your life and no matter what happens, he will always be there to help and protect you. He always makes sure to show you how his love for you is unconditional.

-Rin, Isagi, Kunigami, Ness

Envy will hurt itself

You seem so much like the perfect couple, a lot of people get jealous and have tried tearing you apart or stealing one of you. Always without success and they only ever ended up hurting themselves.

-Kunigami, Isagi, Yukimiya, Ness, Sae

Let yourself be beautiful

There's no one more beautiful to him than you. Not only your looks, but also your personality. No matter how often he points your beauty out, he never feels as if he's giving you enough compliments.

-Aryu, Bachira, Shidou, Yukimiya

This time we go sublime - Lovers entwine, devine, devine

To him, you're literally an angel. Sometimes, he wonders how he's worthy of your love because in his opinion, you're so perfect it's almost unreal.

-Rin, Tokimitsu, Ness, Reo, Chigiri

Love is danger, love is pleasure

Loving someone comes with its risk. Even your relationship has its many ups and rare downs. Whenever those downs happen, he makes sure to never make you feel as if he loved you any less even during harder times.

-Yukimiya, Rin, Kunigami, Sae

Love is pure, the only treasure

His love for you is so pure, even months and years into the relationship, your love never gets boring or repetitive. And he could never get tired of you either.

-Bachira, Shidou, Reo, Ness, Kaiser

[author-a-holmes]

Hi detective

Your ocs are now flowers in a bouquet. Tell me about it/them.

I'm going to do some fast googleing on the Victorian Language of Flowers to answer this ask, but since I'm not particularly confident in my googling powers, I'm going to put the meaning I've found under each one as well. So potential... hints? of spoilers? beneath the cut :D

From Fey Touched there's...

Lizzy Hail: Brugmansia aka Angel's Trumpet

Vivacity, vibrancy, health, danger. The flowers which grow on the brugmansia are part of the nightshade family, meaning that they have slightly toxic properties. Because of their size and unusual shape, the angel's trumpet represents vivacity and vibrancy.

Booker Reed: Queen of the Night

"Enjoy small moments because they do not last". The symbolic character of the epiphyllum is its short flowering time, therefore, people commonly used the blooming epiphyllum as a metaphor for how good things don't last. On the other hand, because of this rarity, it's also a sign of luckiness for those who see its bloom.

Andric Roche: Protea

The primary symbolic meanings of the protea flower are strength, courage, and resilience since the plant survives in extreme climate conditions. Proteas also symbolize diversity, due to the hundreds of variations in color and shape found within their genus.

Cara Evelyn: Pansy

"Thoughtfulness, remembrance, you occupy my thoughts". Pansy flowers are known to symbolize several things, including love, affection, free thinking, and happiness. The pansy's heart-shaped petals and bright, bold colors are often associated with love and affection, and the flower is often given as a gift to express these sentiments.

Mia Harris: Morning Glory

"Love in vain; affection". Morning glories have symbolized love that was never returned, but have also been seen as a sign of undying love.

Nameer Khatri: Violets

Violets signify wisdom, loyalty, hope, and faithfulness. Giving someone a violet let's them know that you'll always be there for them.

From The Stolen Stories there's...

Stella Korazon: Aster

In Victorian culture, the aster represents daintiness, patience, and charm. Aster meanings include love and wisdom. With a rich history in Greek mythology, it’s said that the aster was created by the tears of the Greek goddess, Astraea. One day, she was so upset by how few stars there were in the dark sky, that she began to cry. As she wept, her tears fell to the ground and turned into star-shaped aster flowers. Thus, the flower was named after her, with aster meaning star.

Reilly Mosswolf: Sunflowers

Sunflowers symbolise loyalty, adoration, a long life and lasting happiness, also good fortune and positive opportunities. Sunflowers symbolize unwavering faith and unconditional love.

Eryn Mosswolf: Purple Hyacinth

Purple hyacinths can symbolize multiple things, including sorrow and a desire for forgiveness. The fragrant purple blooms could be a way to let others know you're thinking about them after a death in the family.

Dara Brookor: Zinnia

While zinnia has many different meanings, it is usually associated with friendship, endurance, daily remembrance, goodness, and lasting affection. Zinnias are one tough bloom! Zinnias also symbolize a “joyous endurance.” They are happy to bloom in the steaming heat of summer and really any other trials it encounters, such as drought and bugs, yet they never fail to produce vibrant, beautiful blooms!

Tanar Orinan: Gladiolus

The gladiolus flower typically symbolizes honor and remembrance, but it has many other meanings too such as: Strength of character. Faithfulness, sincerity, and integrity.

Myris Orinan: Blue Daisy

Blue daises have a meaning of long-term loyalty and trust so you can send them to a friend, a long-term partner or a family member who you care very much for. These daisies are pretty rare to find but not impossible.

Nillion Kurez: Dahlia

Finding inner strength, graceful, dignity and commitment. Also embracing positive changes. Some colours of Dahlia display negative connotations including instability or dishonesty. Dahlia make good gifts for someone you admire or percieve as a strong person.

Indre Larieth: Rhododendron

Victorians sent the flower as a warning or with the meaning of ‘beware.’ It was commonly used to indicate that you were worried someone was making the wrong choice, especially when dealing with potential romantic partners.

Lauralai Morten: Cypress

Signifies death, mourning, and despair. In the language of flowers, cypress flowers may also stand for eternal love, memories of past love, or even unrequited love in vain.

Disclaimer: Answered August 10th. Scheduled for September 2nd

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

My Beautiful Flower - Jimmy Dobyne

A/N: this is my entry for @the-slumberparty Week One Challenge: I Spy! This was a lot of fun and I’m loving how these challenges are inspiring fics for Characters I don’t get to write much for!

Word Count: 502

Warnings: Fluff! Barely Edited!

Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

If Jimmy knew only one thing for certain in the whole universe, it would be your love for flowers. Even as a small child you were obsessed with them, always having one poking out of a pocket or resting behind your ear.

Jimmy learnt very early on giving you flowers would be a sure fire way to bring a smile to your face. You were only five playing in your backyard when he pulled up a daisy and gave it to you. The smile you gave him was like a drug and he knew from that moment on he’d need to see it again and again.

If he ever saw a beautiful flower he’d always pick it, and even if it meant sneaking into someone’s backyard to do so. He’d carefully look after it, making sure not to squish it, before he got the chance to give it to you.

“Oh my Jimmy its so beautiful” you’d always smile.

“Not as beautiful as the dame holding it” Jimmy would always say, earning a bashful smile.

You’d then go on to say how your only dream in life would be to have a beautiful flower garden. You’d tell him what flowers you’d pick and why, what arrangement you’d plant them in.

You were always happy with flowers Jimmy had picked himself but when it came to special occasions he would always go a step further. Today was one of those special occasions, he’d even put on his smartest clothes.

He tugged on his collar nervously as approached the willow tree where he’d agreed to meet you. You hadn’t noticed him yet, you dress blowing softly in the wind as you looked out at the view in front of you with a warm smile on your face.

The warm smile on your face grew when you spotted him and the beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hands “Hiya Jimmy” you grinned “are those for me?”

“As always” Jimmy smiles passing you the bouquet.

“They’re beautiful” you smiled over at him.

“Not as beautiful as the dame holding them,” Jimmy says softly before taking a deep steadying breath, as you studied all the different bright colours of the flowers.

“Oh what’s this” you murmured when you spotted something hidden in between the flowers, letting out a small gasp when you carefully reached in and pulled out a ring.

By the time you’d found the ring and pulled it out, Jimmy was already down on one knee with a nervous smile on his face “Y/N” he says softly “I know only two things for certain, your love for flowers, and my undying and unconditional love for you, so if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife, I swear to you that I will help you build that garden you’ve always dreamt of” he promises.

You let out a watery chuckle, nodding your head as you bend down to cup his cheek and kiss him softly “Jimmy, I thought you’d never ask” you grin.

Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this and maybe even leave a comment to make my day!

Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications to be kept up to date!

[hells-sirenqueen]

Thank you for this opportunity, your majesty.

From this moment on, and for the rest of my existence, I swear by the blood of my hand that I shall accept and acknowledge her majesty, Lilith, Queen of Hell, and her Crowned King, Lucifer, King of Hell, as my rulers, for I am their loyal subject, to command in whichever way they see fit. I place my unconditional love and support in their hands and swear my undying loyalty to them.

Lilith gives a pleased round of applause.

"Ah, such a lovely vow and one I ensure to remind you of should your loyalty show signs of wavering whilst in my court. Thank you for your support dear. That reminds me, we should do something about that blood on your hand. Here, allow me.~"

With a wave of her hand the knife in their hand disappears before she took her new subject's hand into her own. One mustn't let such precious blood go to waste. She licks the blood out of their palm, healing the cut they made to utter their oath to the Crown of Hell. As the last of the blood was removed, a scar in the form of a snake that curved inward to make a crescent mark is left in its stead.

[inthereellife]

Asexuals/Aromantics/Acespec Folks!!

Listen, listen

There is an amazing new phrase that will SAVE YOUR LIFE RELATIONSHIPS

You've heard of "no homo"?

Well, let me introduce you to its fantastic non-homophobic aspec-friendly cousin

"no romo."

("romo" as in "romance," obvs)

Want to compliment a friend but don't want them to take it as flirtation??? Throw a "no romo" on that bitch!

Want to compliment acespec friend but know they live in fear of yet another friend wanting romance/sex from them and then losing yet another beloved friendship to the all-consuming void? Stick a "no romo" on the end! All fears are relieved! (for now)

Want to confess your undying unconditional unending love to your bestie? Say "no romo"! It's fine!

BEFORE:

You, an acespec hero: Hey good friend who I value and appreciate as a person. I love you so very much.

Other Human (always thinking about romance? for some reason?): Oh. I love you too...in like. A friend way. Sorry.

BAD. The vibes have been killed. Try again with "no romo".

AFTER:

You, still an acespec hero (you always will be): Hey good friend who I value and appreciate as a person. I love you so very much. No romo.

Other Human: ...What?

LESS BAD! And once you explain what "no romo" means, it will even be GOOD!

The benefits of "no romo" can be yours for the low, low cost of having to explain it the first time you use it!

Use "no romo" today!

-

Okay, seriously, humor aside, this silly little phrase really has helped alleviate concerns and misunderstandings. And, as a fun side effect, compliments and support and love declarations just flow all the time now. I think people are so used to those things having romantic connotations that they hesitate to offer them in other contexts. And this goofy little phrase is such a light-hearted way to alleviate those concerns without making it a big deal. It really has been such a help; I wanted to share it with everyone out there who might also be able to benefit from a silly little phrase that just makes things easier.

[tiredmamaissy]

OKAY OKAY…i shall spill..!!

first off, i’ve always been a pretty cleanly person, yk? never really liked the idea of boldly fluids coming anywhere near me, especially from a dude. however… since i read your fics about neteyam and lo’ak cumming inside during heats and ruts…i wanna be cummed in so bad; i wanna be filled to the absolute brim! if cum isn’t dripping outta my pussy when we’re done, we didn’t do it right.

second off, dicks always kind of scared me? i was scared of getting impaled but NOW? whew! show me a big dick and see how wet i get! my panties be dripping like a motherfucker when i get done with your fics; 10-12 inch long dicks? sign me up!

the last kink i developed was just an overall desire to fuck someone who really, really loves me: im stuck in an ongoing cycle of just wanting to fuck without feelings as i’m scared to get attached, but seeing how much neteyam loves y/n really makes me wanna fuck a guy who actually GENUINELY loves me for me rather than just for the mere fact of gaining a body.

that’s the jist of it, i hope my rant was enticing! i love your fics and i can’t wait for you to upload more! make sure you’re taking care of yourself, babes! love you 🫶

firstly, thank you for sharing!!

this was more than just enticing, it actually warms my heart to know that my fics have changed certain things [for the better] for you :') even if its being creampied and loving on some blue, lengthy shlongs.

a bitch really be cryin' in the club rn.

but ALSO. yes. i completely understand about your fear w/ attachment. i'd say i'm the same - i just don't wanna be hurt [we getting deep rn lol] but..

you [and i, and everyone in this world, minus ppl like ted bundy etc] deserve love, especially the love that Neteyam has for his mate [lool] jokes aside though, we all do deserve genuine, unconditional, undying love.

and thank you :) i'm over the moon happy that you love my works, and i'm even happier that they've lit something within you!

ILOVEYOU 💜

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Doctor Who: Space Babies and The Devil's Chord Review. Because Why the Fuck Not.

I was watching the BAFTAs the other day. No, that’s not quite right. Let me try again: the BAFTAs were happening in front of me on a TV at someone’s house and I was powerless to look away. It may be the first example I’ve ever seen of a circle-jerk being staged in the middle of a car-crash: a whole fucking hall-load of people congratulating themselves on having shat out another year’s worth of insipid, uninspired telly (sometimes about Issues with a capital I, often about nothing at fucking all) while the entirety of culture burns to a cinder around them. What a bunch of arseholes. The highlight was confused non-arsehole Timothy Spall looking like he’d wandered on-set from a parallel universe and giving a rambling, unrehearsed speech about nothing in particular, which went on uncomfortably long and which I sincerely hope annoyed the tits off everyone else present. Meanwhile, the special award for creepiest moment has to go to Floella Benjamin (she of Round Window frame- I mean fame) staring straight into the camera and declaring her undying and unconditional love for the viewer. Made my skin crawl a bit, if I’m honest, like maybe she had a really powerful pair of binoculars and she’d be watching me the next time I went for a poop, whispering sweet nothings into the night air. Meanwhile, conspicuous by its absence from this glittering orgy of beige content was Doctor Who, the show I’m actually here to review! Now that’s a seamless fucking segue, innit?

The first two episodes of Who (2024) aired back to back this Saturday and, as both a lifelong lover of good Who and an overprotective psychopath who’d happily kill anyone whose ever besmirched it with a bad episode, it falls to me to judge this double-bill outing. Since I’m neither a grovelling fuckwit in the access media nor a knee-jerk reactionary pillock, I might be the only person on the internet who’s prepared to give you a genuinely unbiased opinion based on the actual quality of what ended up on screen. Don’t think that means this review will be reasonable or genteel in its tone, though: I’m still a stone-cold cunt with impossibly high standards. So, without further ado, let’s dive in. I’ll take a very brief look at the individual episodes, then try and figure out what they say about the series overall and where it might be headed.

First off, Episode 1: Space Babies. It probably isn’t the worst episode in Doctor Who history, but with a monster made of snot and a supporting cast comprised of talking babies, it may be the most wilfully and determinedly stupid. It’s a bit like it was made on a dare- like someone said to showrunner Russel T. Davies “I bet you can’t get away with an episode about of a bunch of infants trapped on a spaceship with an evil sneeze” and he was drunk enough to reply “I’m Russel The Davies! I can do whatever I fucking like, except use my legs for walking right now!” There’s some enjoyable stuff here- mainly Ncuti Gatwa having to simultaneously act well, but also not act convincingly enough to scare the actual, real live toddlers they used on-set. Meanwhile, the monster is very, very obviously a rubber suit with wonky fingers whenever it’s not a dodgy CGI effect. I don’t mind, per say, since wobbling sets and crap costumes are part of the charm of Who, but it does beg the question: WHERE THE FUCK DID ALL THE MONEY DISNEY PUT INTO THE SHOW FUCKING GO?

Next, Episode 2: The Devil’s Chord, which is mostly a vast improvement, though I do have some gripes. An entity calling themselves Maestro, created by the Celestial Toymaker, claws their way into the world via the mind of a musical genius (and the top of a grand piano) and begins stripping all melody from the universe, aiming to silence the Music of the Spheres itself and create a formal lament or dirge from the infinite sorrow: the ultimate artistic statement made using the ruins of a dead cosmos. On a purely conceptual level, it’s fantastically interesting, macabre and inventive. I also quite liked the Beatles cameos, since it takes place in the 60s, but they don’t really get a lot to do and it feels like an opportunity was missed to turn them into the emotional backbone of the episode. Surely Maestro should be a lot more interested in/hostile to these musical geniuses? Without her expressing the slightest inclination to single them out, there’s no sense of immediate physical threat, relegating all the menace to the conceptual level. There’s also not much reason for the Doctor to talk to them, so we’re deprived of the chance to see this new take on the character interacting with people other than companion Ruby Sunday and the odd talking baby (I really hope those aren’t going to be a recurring thing, by the way). Meanwhile, drag queen Jinkx Monsoon (who doesn’t seem to know that you don’t need a K if you’re going to add an X) does a passable job as Maestro. She’s got the over-the-top theatrics of a self-amusing supervillain down to a fine art, but she doesn’t quite have the presence to land her more serious lines. There’s no equivalent here to the spine-chilling “This is only a face, covering a vastness that will never cease” bit from the Tennant episode The Giggle. Which is a shame, because clearly Monsoon isn’t a bad actress, she’s just new at it and probably needed more coaching to land the heavy stuff.I do also have one other minor complaint: the musical number at the end isn’t good enough for an episode that’s all about music. They clearly wrote it especially for the show, but it’s just a bit rubbish and they could have just covered an infinitely more lyrically interesting Beatles song, couldn’t they? Fucking idiots. On the plus side, I really can’t emphasise enough how engaging the idea of the episode is. And we do get an amazing shot of London devastated by some kind of war in an alternate future, which was ace. Honestly, I know I sound like I’m complaining a lot about this episode, but it was actually a lot of fun. I just hope that the show hits its stride and preserves the good elements while evolving past the stuff that doesn’t work.

See, there’s a lot of positives here in the double-bill: there are interesting ideas and a fair amount of creative risk-taking, which- even when it doesn’t work- is evidence of a show willing to experiment and find what works. But there is also a huge, overarching problem that needs to be addressed before this latest Who reboot can hit its stride. Bluntly,if I had to describe this double-bill season opener using one word, I’d probably choose the word ‘rushed’. In both Space Babies and The Devil’s Chord, but especially the latter, the story zips manically from plot-point to set-piece and back again with very little breathing room in between. Jokes that ought to be set up early and then pay off later to create space and a sense of continuity just get told with mechanical, rapid-fire pacing and then forgotten (there’s a bit about changing the evolutionary history of the human race by stepping on a butterfly that flies past so quickly it’s barely worth a smirk). Characters who needed to be fleshed out just aren’t because there isn’t time to do that and also stage ridiculous musical number (as a result, there’s never much sense of threat. We know the show won’t kill off the Doctor or his companion, so the cannon-fodder who might die need to be well-characterised enough that we give a shit). Many of the effects look like they were thrown together in an afternoon because the production team decided to go for cheap-and-easy CGI over practical, tactile, more believable effects. Most egregiously of all, there’s even a certain obviousness to the way things look and function. Sometimes, it looks like the show designed its props and sets by going through a big catalogue of sci-fi and costume-drama tropes and places and then just picking out whatever matched best. Compared to the craftsmanship put into, say, WWII London in The Empty Child or the sprawling planetary library of Silence in the Library (both of which were realised on piss-poor budgets compared to current Who), it’s woefully disappointing.

Don’t get me wrong, Who is still worth a watch. Ncuti Gatwa’s a decent leading man, even if he hasn’t been given time to settle into the character thanks to the manic pacing of his adventures, and it’s obvious Russel T. Davies isn’t short of ideas, even if some of them are curate’s eggs of dubious quality. But if the show wants to get back to the height of its popularity, it needs to slow down and smell the roses a little. The production team need to be encouraged to do things the hard way, because it looks better. The plots need more talking and detailed character interaction to compliment the action and silliness. When something bombastic and over-the-top is happening, it needs to feel earned. Who people: start throwing in a few two-parters and de-emphasise the Disney money you’ve been given in favour of careful plotting. There’s something worth loving here, but it’s buried in quite a lot of bullshit at the moment. Get a shovel and dig it out.

EDIT: I would like to acknowledge that the thing about the Doctor being able to hear the show's incidental music is the fun kind of stupid and not the annoying kind.

[crosstheveil]

Astrology: Aries

Element: Fire (electric) Modality: Cardinal (generative) Principle: Active (yang) Image: Lightning strikes from above and tears open old forms, impregnating them with seeds of new life. Date: March 20th - April 20th (T) / April 15th - May 15th (S) Animal: Ram, Lamb Glyph: ♈︎ / Horns of the ram, a fork in the road, two paths merging into one, upspring waters of fountain, a seedling emerging from the ground, outstretched arms of Christ, nose and eyebrows. Color: Red (Scarlet)

Ruler: Mars Exaltation: Sun Fall: Saturn Detriment: Venus Strength: Jupiter

Phrase: "I am" Need: To act instantaneously in the driving seat. Emotion: Anger (short-lived) Temperament: Choleric Positive: Pioneering, executive, competitive, impulsive, eager, courageous, independent, dynamic, quick. Negative: Domineering, quick-tempered, violent, intolerant, hasty, arrogant, selfish, brusque, lack follow-through. Archetype: Fool, Daredevil, Athlete, Maverick, Rebel, Instigator, Aggressor, Warrior, Trailblazer, Pirate, Clown, Hero, Motivator, Conqueror, Enthusiast

The spirit of Aries thrives on spontaneous action, embodying the very essence of life force, birth, and uninhibited energy. This is reminiscent of a baby coming out head-first, eager and ready to experience life. In doing so, it becomes an independent entity, unbound and free, with the prerogative to choose its own path right at the onset of its journey.

Aries wants to make an impact, especially on things that grow and expand, carrying their influence. They often feel an inner drive to create, either believing it's a divine calling or a way to achieve legacy. Ideas and impulses come to them from outside sources. They act as a channel for the memories and spirits of their ancestors. Past energy builds up around them like a storm cloud, and when it releases, it comes out powerfully and intuitively through them. They don't create this force; they release or channel it. To truly get them, you need to look beyond just their personal experiences.

Every new start requires an original idea and it's bold to take this leap. Sometimes we need to risk everything without giving a second thought to the consequences or potential reactions. However, this impulsiveness can quickly inspire contempt in others. Known for disrupting the establishment, Aries comes across as lacking etiquette, even being slobbish at times. There is an innate tendency to reject norms, often accompanied by a definitive "no". This spirit carries an air of arrogance, constantly proclaiming the truth of new ideas with immediate conviction, even if they've just thought of them. Their confidence stands undeterred whether based in competence or sheer folly, without any need for external support.

They have many ideas and speak passionately about various topics. However, they usually don't deeply analyze or overthink things. Social interactions might label Aries as unsophisticated, but this is merely a reflection of its unconditioned nature. This spirit is driven by unchecked impulses to explore and assert itself, with a headstrong attitude that prioritizes forward motion without much foresight. It’s about just doing, not looking back, with an unwavering belief that the future is now. They don't stick to one idea because they believe more will come from their inner thoughts. Life is about exploration and trying new things. There's a childlike excitement in Aries, a reminiscence of the pure wonder and fantasy of childhood, marked by exuberant playfulness, undying ambition, and a love for laughter.

They are never truly content and it's not because they're critical, but because they don't feel complete or fulfilled by their actions. They're always at the start of a project and yearn for the satisfaction that comes with completing it. They remember how fulfilling the end of previous work felt and are eager to experience that feeling again. The only way for them is to keep moving ahead, often impatiently, to achieve the fulfillment they seek.

Its fiery nature makes it impatient and restless, always on the move until it reaches burnout. Aries calls it as they see it, often being too honest and straightforward, cutting through pretense. They can be irritable with a penchant for instigating challenges and a reckless attitude. With no read of others capabilities they can be quick to misjudge, viewing people as either incompetent or idealizing them as being more important or capable than they are. This leads to disappointment and frustration when faced with the physical reality.

Any instruction from Aries tends to come across as forceful, lacking the proper coordination that is required in group dynamics or mutual exchange. Their ideas can be wasted because they're not presented in an acceptable manner. In the quest to be helpful, they may push ideas on people when they aren't ready to be accepted or they're uncalled for. Just as quickly as they might remark or do something, they can regret what they said or did. If they ever do wrong, it usually wasn't intentional. When they become used to not being received well or not being able to work with others, they adopt the attitude of a lone warrior or vagabond. They overburden themselves and carry all aspects of every assignment or production because they don't see any other way to bring their ideas forward. They must prove themselves by doing everything well and showing others how to do things the right way, often by doing it for them.

The spirit serves as a representation of the consequences one might face for acting out of line or being disobedient. It's a journey of retaliation, paving the path ahead no matter the cost, and finding a way through the cracks of any system. Underlying this is a pressure to showcase courage, to stand up instead of succumbing to fear or compliance. They tend to resonate with the underdog and those who are struggling against the status quo in the pursuit of a dream. It's not uncommon for them to have an affinity for the homeless or to become the champion of a lost cause.

They often fight or challenge situations just to feel alive. Ideally, Aries is not just looking for where there is a fight to be started but a worthy opposition that can only be discerned by the innate wisdom they're born with. In the pursuit of authenticity, they must find a battle that is essentially their own and theirs alone. By the same token, their ideas won't do justice given to the wrong people. If they don't stop trying to force what doesn't work, they'll continue butting heads back and forth with the same obstacle; at the deficit of both parties and at the expense of their original intention. When Aries is faced with too much opposition they can be rendered aimless and sheepish.

Reincarnation (Aries) ← Dissolution (Pisces) Pisces represents a phase of letting go, preparing the way for Aries to emerge unburdened. For something new to arrive, we need to release previous expectations and commitments, making room to align with the present situation. Endings and beginnings are two sides of the same coin. The old always makes way for the new. One man's loss is another man's gain. When we embrace the contradiction of Pisces, we create room for the nuance of Aries. When we accept what can't be changed, we release the need for control and allow for ourselves to be surprised.

Bursting (Aries) → Sustaining (Taurus) As the fastest moving sign, Aries is quick to exhaust itself. It's the runner sprinting forward at the beginning of a race, whereas Taurus is the pace needed to finish a marathon. Taurus grounds the energy of Aries to ensure any initiative will be lasting and sustainable. Ideas are prioritized and methodically brought into fruition.

Lust (Aries) or Indifference (Libra) While Aries champions individuality, autonomy, and directness, it actively distances itself from Libra's focus on mutual consensus, diplomacy, and partnership. Aries thrives on unbridled self-expression and frank honesty, while viewing Libra's harmonious and indirect approaches as circuitous and passive. Valuing personal freedom and decisive action, Aries often disregards Libra's emphasis on social order, fairness, and cooperative decision-making.

Appearance Curly or wavy hair, often red or blonde, large and hardy vertically stretched forehead, something striking or notable about the eyes, eyebrows, forehead or hair, arched brows pushing forward as forehead sweeps back, back of head rising toward the crown, nose either narrow and aquiline or upturned with nostrils exposed, snarling expression, freckles, moles or scars on face, very narrow/very wide jaw, widow's peaks (V-shaped hairline), head tilted forward, sharp features, high cheekbones, angular facial features, reddish complexion, flushed appearance, posture is erect or tense, lean and muscular due to a higher rate of catabolic processes, energetic and cheerful manner, informal, disheveled, fond of red, bright, upbeat or strident voice, moderate height, may have a lisp or speech impediment, walk with upper torso directed forward as the rest of their body follows behind, abrasive or off-putting demeanor.

Body The head (including the cranium, frontal and lateral lobes, and corpus callosum), eyes (encompassing the optic nerves, crystalline lens, and eyeballs), motor centers of the brain, sinus, upper jaw and its teeth (with Saturn and Taurus), blood, the adrenal glands (with Libra and Mars). Aries, along with the Sun, Moon, and Mercury, has a strong influence on the entire brain. The sense of sight is governed by this sign, in conjunction with the Sun and Moon.

Disease Cleft lip, port-wine birthmarks, epilepsy, stroke, tinea (ringworm), pink eye (conjunctivitis), acne, gum abscesses, neuralgic tooth pain, headaches, fevers, infantile seborrheic dermatitis (cradle cap), alopecia (baldness), dizziness (vertigo), injuries, gunshot injuries, convulsions, seizures, aneurysms, skin rashes.

Vocation Excel in roles that require independent motivation, originality, and impulse. Many thrive as teachers, musicians, producers, and creative artists. They are energetic, passionate, and often lead the way, making them great front-runners. They are inspiring, making them effective motivational speakers and educators. Candid, warm, and resilient, offering honesty and directness in their approach. They shine in start-up ventures, self-employment, and commission-based roles but struggle with follow-through, disliking routine and subordinate roles. They might have poor discipline and become irritable when feeling pressured or talked down to. While they are great starters, they don't always see things through to the finish.

Tarot: Emperor (IV) Hebrew: "Heh" (ה) / H Path: 15 / joining Wisdom and Beauty Angel: Melchidael or Malahidael Cell Salt: Potassium Phosphate (to ease stress and exhaustion) Gem/Stone: Sardonyx, Bloodstone, Amethyst, Diamond Alchemical Process: Calcination

Court I (0-19°): Queen of Wands / Water of Fire Court II (20-29°): Prince of Disks / Air of Earth

Decan I (0-9°): Mars / Two of Wands / Chokmah of Yod Decan II (10-19°): Sun / Three of Wands / Binah of Yod Decan III (20-29°): Venus / Four of Wands / Chesed of Yod

Age of Aries When the vernal equinox shifted from the sign of Taurus, it was believed that the solar deity took form in the Aries constellation, making the ram the embodiment of solar energy. The lamb, often associated with purity due to its gentle nature and white wool, represents the universal savior in many pagan mysteries. While Aries represented the Creator, His Son was seen as the Lamb of God. The Lamb of God is signified by the Golden Fleece that Jason was forced to win before he could assume his kingship. In Christianity, it is a cherished symbol for Christ. The lamb's blood represents the solar life entering the world through the Aries sign. In the initial stages of Christianity, the lamb was emblematic of Christ. It wasn't until after the fifth synod of Constantinople that the image of a crucified man replaced the Agnus Dei symbol. The choice of a lamb hints at Christianity's Persian origins, as Persians uniquely symbolized the zodiac's first sign with a lamb. Ancient pagans used lambs for sin offerings, so early Christian mystics saw the lamb as an apt representation of Christ, viewing Him as the world's sin offering. Sheep and goats were offered as sacrifices, and a designated scapegoat carried the sins of Israel. During the Aryan era, religious leaders were termed shepherds. Both Greeks and Egyptians revered the lamb or ram, even incorporating its horns into depictions of their deities. Thor, a Norse god, held a hammer fashioned from ram horns. A lambskin apron was worn by Freemasons over the region associated with primal desires, symbolizing the renewal of procreative energies and their dedication to divine service.

Wordplay Aries is an anagram for "arise" and the natural home of Aries is the first house of the rising sign. Additionally, Spring corresponds with the Sun rising above the celestial equator. This first month was named March after the ruling planet of Mars. In ancient Rome, March was a time when the weather began to warm up, making it more feasible for armies to mobilize and conduct campaigns ("to march"). Other notable words with connections to Aries include but are not limited to: arid, aristocracy, legionaries, emissaries, mercenaries (Mercury-Aries), apothecaries, boundaries, seminaries, disciplinarians, commentaries, sanctuaries, adversaries, libraries (Libra-Aries), dictionaries, antiquaries, contemporaries, dignitaries, intermediaries, missionaries, luminaries, votaries, cherries, contrary, countries, arrest, arrogance, arena, arouse, marred, marshal, mark, murder, martyr, tyrant, tirade, war, raw, ready, rude, raid, ignite, ignition, eruption, hilarious, varies.

Characters Athena (Greek), Moses (Bible), Wonder Woman (DC), Joker (DC), Daryl Dixon (The Walking Dead), Raphael (TMNT), Hellboy (Dark Horse Comics), Klingons (Star Trek), Goku (Dragon Ball Z), Eren Yeager (Attack on Titan), Giorno Giovanna (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure), Sakura Haruno (Naruto), Monkey D. Luffy (One Piece), Kamina (Gurren Lagann), Yusuke Urameshi (Yu Yu Hakusho)

[cosmicerroraftermath]

What Monster from Folklore Protects you?

Banshee

"Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark." -Lucy Christopher The banshee, is a creature from Irish Folklore. Though not inherently malevolent, it is said to be a dark omen. The ghostly cries of a weeping woman drift in the air, warning any unfortunate soul who hears of impending death. Following her like the train of a morbidly beautiful wedding dress, a thick fog envelops her skin as she croons a sorrowful, haunting song which is filled with concern and love for her family. This song can be heard a few days before the death of a family member and in most cases the song can only be heard by the person for whom it is intended. Some even go to argue that it is the banshee's unwitting song which kills the person. You care very strongly about your family and friends. Your loyalty towards those whom you care for is unconditional. You are an excellent and reliable friend, trustworthy enough to bear even the darkest of secrets. Secrets which you would gladly carry to the grave unless of course, they harm your loved ones. You will fight tooth and nail to protect the ones you care for, restraint left abandoned. The banshee admires your reslience and passion. It desires to aid you in protecting those you love and to help you navigate a harsh reality just be warned and keep a close eye on the people you love,Your undying loyalty may just become their undoing...

Wendigo

Insatiable hunger... frozen woods... lost... inhuman... depraved. For some, wendigos are a travesty of legend but for others, they are as real as the air we breathe. The bone-chilling tale of the wendigo originates from Algonquian Native American folklore and is the horrifying result of brutal starvation and desperation. A lone hunter strayed from the path, becoming trapped in a snowy wasteland, succumbs to the gnawing craving to fill the hole in his gut... with human flesh. Having grown fond of the flavour, the hunter consumes more and more. With each victim, the hunter finds his humanity slipping away, his body becoming more and more bestial. The hunger does not dissipate either, in fact, it only grows stronger with each passing kill. Yet, the hunter cannot stop himself. He continues to feast on human flesh until he turns into something hardly human. A wendigo. They are said to have the ability to replicate human cries, drawing its victims deeper into the woods and towards their death. You have always been something of an anomaly.  You have never quite fit in. You may seem normal enough but it is as if you don't quite fit into line with everyone else. It is this disconnect which connects the wendigo to you. Maybe you were once a target but now, you are a curiosity. It has dismissed its hunger pangs to observe you. Maybe you remind it tragically of the life it once had. Whatever the reason, it desires to protect that spark you carry, that which should never be extinguished. You have since become rather isolated, putting up a facade to keep others at bay. Perhaps it is this isolation which causes you to lose touch with humanity or the connection with those around you. Maybe you are the type to eat away your problems. Just remember: stick to the path,You never know where desperation may lead you...

//Stole from @gazelessmenagerie​

//Tagging whomsteverthefuck wants​