#like every lifetime endgame???

[nicolibbyquotes]

“Other lives, other existences, it didn't matter. They were polarities, and wherever they went, his half would always find hers.”

- “The Atlas Complex” by Olivie Blake

[nina-ya]

could i please request a version of your ‘loving them’ series with ace? thank you so much in advance!

A/N: i forget just how much i love some characters like Ace until I write something for them!! Pairing: Ace x reader CW: none, mild backstory spoilers if you squint Other versions: Luffy Zoro Sanji Law Ace • masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Loving Ace is like chasing the sunset knowing you cant ever quite catch it, but still, you run because the colors that it paints across the sky are worth every step. He’s like that- unreachable at times, always running far ahead and driven by something deeper that you can’t quite understand. But when he stops and lets you catch up, the moments that he shares with you feel like the most precious things in the world. 

Loving Ace is waking up to the warmth of his body curled protectively around you like he’s protecting you from the horrors of the world, even when he’s the one who needs protecting. His arms are tight around you even in his unconscious state like he’s afraid you’ll slip away, like he doesn’t quite believe that he deserves to have something so precious. 

Loving Ace also means understanding the darkness that lurks behind that bright smile of his. It’s recognizing that beneath his playful and laid-back exterior, lies a heart burdened by doubt, insecurity, and the heavy weight of a bloodline he never asked for. Loving him is realizing that sometimes he needs to burn brighter than ever to hide that coldness that sometimes creeps up from inside, that there are days when his flames flicker, and that he needs someone to remind him that he is worth every ounce of love that the world has to give. 

Loving Ace is kissing him in the dead of the night, his lips hot, burning with the same fire that makes up his very essence. It’s as if he is pouring everything that he feels into that one moment. It’s desperate, passionate, a release of all the things that he feels, hoping that he can convey them with this one action. And he only pulls away when you both are starved for air, both of you breathless, lips ghosting over yours, the gesture leaving your heart racing in a picture-perfect moment. 

Loving Ace is seeing the world through his eyes- a world where freedom is the ultimate prize, where loyalty is learned through actions, not words, and where family is everything. It’s understanding that to love him is to love his crewmates, his brothers, and everyone else he has chosen to protect. Though his heart is shared with many, there’s a part of it that’s just for you, a part that no one else gets to touch. 

Loving Ace is feeling the thrill of his warm hands on your skin, the way he touches you as if he is committing every part of you to memory. His fingers dance along the flesh, tracing toasty trails along the way, and when his lips follow in soft and teasing pecks, it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. He pulls you closer, planting kisses across every surface he can reach until he finally lands on your lips, kissing you deeply, savoring the feeling.

Loving Ace is a rollercoaster with many twists, turns, and drops. It's unpredictable, thrilling, and filled with moments that take your breath away and moments that terrify you. But no matter how far he runs, no matter how erratic those flames burn, you’ll always find your way back to each other. Because when it comes to love, Ace doesn’t do things halfway. When he loves, he loves with everything he has and you feel it in every glance, every touch, every breath, every shared moment. 

Loving Ace is standing beside him watching the sunset, hand in hand, knowing that you have a love that will last a lifetime. He is your endgame. Ace is the love of your life and that love will only grow day by day as you two face life together. And as the night falls, as the stars above mirror those freckles that dot the face of the man besides you, you know that this love- this wild, fierce, and all-consuming love- will carry you through anything. 

[thedevilsoftruth]

⋆˙✮•Kyojuro Rengoku loves eating you out•✮⋆˙

He is just that kind of dude. The kind of man who can lay you down ya the edge of your bed and burry his face between your thighs until he literally cannot move his jaw anymore. Clit stimulation is what usually gets you going, so he makes sure to spend extra time giving that pretty button all the attention she deserves while his fingers pump and curl themselves into your warm cunt.

It's the way your eyes roll back. It's the way you become weak in his strong arms as he dragges the tip of his tongue up the head of your clit and then flicks it up and down as his fingers continue to fill you. It's the way your fingers curl into his long, thick blonde and red hair as he eats you out. He has tasted lots and lots of different foods in his lifetime, but none of them will ever come close to the sweet nectar of your pussy.

And the way you squeak and your thighs go clenching around his face as he encloses his lips around your clit and begins to suck on it is like pure heaven to him. He's half deaf, so he always encourages you to be as loud as you can, but he finds that your loudest screams and most gutteral moans are pulled out of your mouth whenever he eats you out.

He does it to please you, he does it to make you scream, but he does it to boost his ego. He does it because your pussy gets so much wetter on his greedy tongue as you get closer to orgasm. He does it for you. Because Kyojuro Rengoku knows just how to please his woman.

He knows he's doing good when he hums against your clit as he's sucking in it, and you absolutely fucking convulse on him, your hips jerking and your body shaking as he brings you closer to the edge. He has to hold you down sometimes so that he have full attention in making you cum and making you cum only. Kyojuro always puts your pleasure before anything, but if you're going to have sex with him, his endgame is to make you cum, no matter how long he has to keep his fingers pumped inside you and his mouth on your sensitive cunt.

And when you do cum? Kyojuro becomes greedier for your cunt than Augustus Gloop when he witnessed Willy Wonkas chocolate river. And the river of your cum is something he can certainly get lost in for hours. He's lapping up every single drop of cum from your aching pussy hungrily, holding your thighs in his arms firmly as he bobs his head up and down against your pelvis. He is addicted to your pussy, and he would continue to eat you out for hours if you would let him. Great stamina is one of the perks of a hashira after all.

[ Requests are open. See my pinned post for additional information 💋 ]

[theoversky]

Why Kittyuri should be endgame?

So let’s see Kitty’s options until now:

1.Dae Heon Kim: a reason

Dae was literally 1/2 main reasons why Kitty applied to KISS. They spend majority of S1 figuring out how to be together and when they’re finally dating Kitty found out she’s actually in love with Yuri.

It’s sad or funny the fact Dae was too perfect for Kitty and maybe for that, no one ships Dae/Kitty.

2.Min Ho: a season

S1 was for Dae/Kitty, S2 will be for Min Ho/Kitty.

I actually shipped 50% Kitty with Min Ho and 50% Kitty with Yuri, but after so many bifobic fanbase I really wish Kittyuri is endgame at the end of the series.

Min Ho fanbase is terrible, they use weak excuses to not validate that fact Kitty is in love with Yuri, even her sexuality. That’s so real that the one and only Jenny Han had to reply a comment on instagram validating Kitty’s bisexuality and her love for Yuri. Also Jenny had to close some comments on instagram because of Min Ho’s fanbase spamming every single “XO Kitty” photo asking for their couple.

Arguments like

A)“but Juliana and Yuri fought so hard to be together” when Juliana did absolutely NOTHING to be with Yuri, but KITTY was the one to give Yuri her girlfriend back

B) “Kittyuri happened because of a dream” bitch didn’t Min Ho/Kitty started the same way?

C) “You guys can’t ship Kittyuri because you don’t support when bisexual people date opposite gender”

D) “Kittyuri isn’t healthy because you don’t want Yuri to be with her black girlfriend, that’s racism”

E) “Kittyuri doesn’t have chemistry and Gia Kim is too old to kiss Anna”

Are some examples of this fandom behaviour and that’s why I am now 100% team Kittyuri. I don’t think Min Ho is the worst but I also don’t think he is the best. And I don’t even mentioned he’s Dae’s best friend but people send hate to Kitty and Yuri as couple or separated in order to prop Min Ho excusing ALL his toxic behaviours.

3.Yuri Han: Lifetime

Yuri Han is the series main villain in S1, she’s responsible for Kitty’s unhapiness and the fact that her and Dae can’t be together. Kittyuri are the real enemies to lovers from this tv show. Min Ho was an asshole to Kitty for nothing, Yuri had a reason the whole time.

Plus we can’t forget Kittyuri is the one and only main LGBT ship from Jenny Han’s universe. It was a real plot twist in a very straight universe and as a bisexual girl I really felt the representativeness’ of Kitty falling in love with a girl without even having a relationship with her. Even as friends.

For this season, I expect Yuri in deny to believe Kitty really likes her until find out Kitty is bi and hanging out with other girls. A very jealous Juliana chasing Yuri’s relationship with Kitty and every step about Yuri’s reaction founding out Kitty is bi. The trailer (and S1) was pretty clear that Juliana is jealous of Kitty, even when Kitty was the person to reconnect them again.

Before everything, analyzing the trailer it seems Kitty will write letters to the person she loves (it’s a Covey’s thing apparently) and Yuri’s friends will find them and tell everybody about this. I don’t think she addresses Yuri’s name since Yuri is rolling eyes when Jealous Juliana passes throught the door and Kitty acts like she had been exposed. I don’t think Yuri would react like that because she doesn’t figure Kitty could like her, but Juliana suspects for the whole S1.

Also I guess Peter Kavinsky will be Kitty’s bisexuality’s cheerleader and be the person to push Kitty to explore her sexuality with both genders. Peter and Min Ho promotional is pretty like a straightbait to me, since the fandom is majority Team Min Ho and I can bet Jenny Han will fight for Kittyuri. I’m afraid for Netflix wanting fanservice for Team Min Ho, but I guess Kitty will try to like Min Ho back in S2 and they can work until Yuri finds out Kitty likes her at some point and break up with Juliana.

So S3 will be with about Min Ho/Kitty break up and Kittyuri finally connecting. I HOPE at least.

[witchybitchycrybaby]

Emmrich had meant to read tonight.

He settled on the couch, a book in his hand. But still, he couldn't focus on the words, the letters blurring into an amorphous mass. So instead, he put it away as he let himself drift in the quiet of the night.

And then you found him—like you did most of the time.

He could tell you were tired and drowsy after a whole day of working, your eyes half-lidded and your movements sluggish. You deserved a good night's sleep.

So when you climbed on top of him, draping yourself over him like a weighted blanket, there was no hesitation in Emmrich's mind. He embraced you in his arms—one hand resting on the small of your back, the other gently stroking your hair.

Soon, your breathing slowed, your body relaxed, becoming putty in his hands.

You were so soft. So warm. He kept you safe, tucked against him like you belonged there—with him. Like he also belonged there with you. Always with you.

He should have followed you to the land of dreams. He knew he should rest, knew he needed to. It would be so easy, after all, to close his eyes and get lost in this warm cocoon you've created.

But Emmrich didn't want to sleep.

For if he closed his eyes, he would have to leave this moment.

And he wasn't quite ready to fall into blissful unconsciousness. He wanted to hold you, to kiss you, to whisper soft, quiet words meant only for you, even if you didn't hear them.

So he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple and whispered, "I love you so much, my darling."

He should have met you earlier.

The thought haunted him more often than not nowadays. It crept into his brain and twisted inside of him, tightening around his heart until it ached.

You were young, that's true—but not in a way that made him ever doubt your feelings or think that you don't know your heart well enough. You were young in a way that weighted on him; you had so much life to live. And he didn't.

Emmrich was always concerned with his mortality, with time passing relentlessly. But with you, his time had never felt so finite.

He should have been young when you were. Should have had the chance to love you for longer, much longer. He wanted to fall asleep and wake up with you for so many mornings that he lost count. He wanted to see you happy, hear your laugh, trace the shape of your face with his fingers until it was burned into his memory.

He wanted years. Decades. A lifetime.

Emmrich wanted more time than he had the right to ask for.

He knew he was greedy. And that was alright, because all he wanted was to be the only one to love you, to give you it all.

He knew you deserved everything, every star in the sky and every ray of sunshine. You deserved unconditional love, a bottomless well of devotion.

And now he was running out of time. He knew it.

If he focused hard enough, he could almost see it. A future, not that distant, where he no longer existed, where he was no longer a part of your world. You'd carry on, of course. You'd be alright. Strong, bright, brilliant. But without him.

Would you find love again? he wondered. Would you search for it after him?

He wanted to be selfish and think that he'd be your endgame—that he'd be the one for you, that no one else would ever love you the way he did.

But then again, he wanted nothing more than for you to be happy. Wanted for you to love and be loved.

More than anything, though, he wanted time. More of it. All the time in the world.

Emmrich's arms tightened around you. He pressed another kiss to your temple, but this time he stayed like that a little longer, breathing the sweet scent of you.

You sighed in your sleep and shifted, pressing impossibly closer to him.

And so he stayed awake. Just a minute longer. Maybe two. Just to still feel you in his arms. Just to still be with you.

[tic-toc-clock77]

Toby adored Clockwork from the start. In Tim's truck, a love song would play and no matter how cheesy, in the head of that young man it was dedicated to the love of his life, the girl he admired and wanted in his life forever, the one he wanted to see everyday, to hold, love and support in all her endeavors.

She loved him just the same, always and forever as they'd promise every chance they had. She trusted him with her life, she gave him everything she never got from lovers and he gave the same. She needed him, wanted him and adored him just the same.

It never made sense to anyone, not even themselves but they knew their truth, their love was endgame, it was forever, it would bleed into their next lifetimes, bleed like the bodies they'd leave behind

...And it would bleed from Clockwork's heart and mind just like on the day she found him laying dead in a puddle of blood her hands put him into. Her heart would bleed with love and sorrow into the puddle drying in the snow, her clothes would stain with the blood that once caused his heart to pound at the sight of her face.

Her heart would break for him as it did when she'd heard about his sister's death as another member of the Rogers family would be cruelly taken from this world. She prayed for him, she never believed in God and knew if there was one, she nor him would ever be let into heaven but she did it anyway and every night, hoping for forgiveness and just a chance to see the one she loved with her whole heart, who saved her, loved her and made it all worth it, only one more time...

[aihoshiino]

seeing takes saying ai is a selfish liar while ruby is a selfless liar who does it for the sake of the fans as if she doesn't turn out to be ai 2.0 at the end LMAOOO

and even then that's wrong lol. at least ai tells her lies with the hope that they'll come true someday. ruby's motivations for going on are... what, exactly??

"to the future that mama and aqua illuminated" as if they both weren't victims that had their lives tragically taken away (aqua's case is different, yea, but only akane knowsbthat)

minor detail also, but as a fellow ai wifeguy, aren't the two pics of ai at ruby's bitchass merch shrine rehashes of prev art?? ai when she first takes off the hat in the hospital (this one is especially obvious to me) & the pic of her in the shampoo commercial but just edited a bit. same goes for thr aqua pic, looks like his cover art from vol 3

anon before i say anything else i need you to know that the combo of the words "fellow ai wife guy" and "bitchass merch shrine" took me out so hard. i was eating spicy noodles when i read this ask and it almost killed me. ig i don't blame mengo for reusing the linework for what are just throwaway background elements but it is kind of funny. like. yeah, girl. i wouldn't have put any extra effort into this chapter either lolo

Anyway yeah lol the idea of interpreting Ai as 'selfish' in that sense is kind of incomprehensible to me because tbh one of Ai's major issues as a character is that she isn't selfish. She feels obligated to endlessly contort herself to match the shapes other people want her to take - I mentioned it in my episode 1 liveblog but there's this constant underlying theme in Ai's arc of her doing her best to be every single contradictory thing that was asked of her, succeeding against all odds and being punished for it anyway. She doesn't value herself and her own happiness enough to choose it over continuing to be the version of herself other people ask her to be. TBH, that's another way that Ai and Aqua parallel each other - they both view not just their happiness but their entire lives as being ancillary at best to the people around them. Ai is at least able to understand that she wants and deserves to have happiness when she decides to have the twins, but she still undervalues herself to a shocking degree.

As for Ruby.............. honestly, Ruby's endgame characterization is so undercooked that I don't even really know what to make of her. But it's not as though she's a pure selfless angel who's getting nothing out of being an idol - this is the dream she's had for two lifetimes now and she's at the peak of her success. She's talked all series about wanting to be famous, etc etc. I'm sure it's hard and she's not always having an easy time and that it's probably frustrating for her to have to compartmentalize her feelings, but like...

Ruby could quit! She could just walk out!!! Hit da bricks!!!! It's nothing at all like Ai's situation where the combo of socioeconomic and interpersonal factors that contributed to her success also essentially trapped her in the entertainment industry with no safety net and nobody to help her find her footing in everyday life. If Ruby wanted to quit Tomorrow, she could and she'd have an endless amount of people who would help her adjust. As such, I can only assume Ruby is an idol because she still wants to be an idol. Which is fine! But this selfishness vs selflessness stuff is just not in the text.

And even if it was..................... again, who cares lol. Selflessness is not and inherently morally righteous quality and neither is selfishness inherently bad. Aqua and Ai again are both prime examples of how self destructive selflessness at the cost of the self is.

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

This is a weird post, but I really want to make it. And, no, I don't know why I'm posting it since I'm not even into NHIE anymore. I just feel like I have to for some reason. Maybe as a study of my own growth.

When I watched Never Have I Ever for the first time, I was all about Ben. I liked Ben over everything else; I ADORED Ben. Those were some of the worst years of my life, and I think my attachment to him was part of a really weird breakdown. And I think that was reflective of my mental state.

Because, this is my point:

Paxton is objectively both a better character and a better love interest. As I matured, this became obvious to me.

This is because I've realized that kindness and compassion trump intelligence every time.

Gif by @miithridatism

That's not to say Paxton isn't smart - I think he has a ton of emotional intelligence and just needed a push to get in gear. But my view when the show was airing was very much "the nice one" vs "the smart one who pushes Devi." But Paxton pushed Devi, too. He pushes her to make the right choices, do the kind thing, make amends with those she (albeit unintentionally) wrongs. He boosts her confidence by telling her she looks pretty in a sari and calling her his smokeshow girlfriend.

Gif by @neverhaveievergiffed

Meanwhile the endgame love interest is telling her she looks like a shot-putter.

Lots of people online seem to act like Benvi is the more mature ship. I have come to realize that it's the exact opposite.

Devi and Paxton communicate. They grew together when they were in a relationship. They had the potential to grow together for a lifetime.

Gifs by @emmanelson

Devi and Paxton are kindness and emotional maturity.

Sure, they're opposites in a lot of ways. But they're complements. And that's what matters.

[writing-house-of-m]

just like You.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Endgame canon

Word count: 431

Summary: You tell Natasha about your daughter

A/N: I don't really know how I feel about this, either way I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think

She reminds me of you every day

When the morning light bounces off her red hair

How she breaks eye contact as she laughs

The lines between her brows when she is concentrating

I wish you got to see the young woman that she is turning into

I tell her about you to make sure she never forgets

You look down

Moving around some dry twigs with your foot then back at the marble stone

I tell her about how I see you

In the final hours of the day when the sunlight seeps through the trees

Soft breezes through the long grass in the field out back during our late afternoon walks

The old family photos Yelena gave us on one of her visits

She wants to dye her hair blue now

Tears well in your eyes

You clear your throat to get rid of the lump forming

I still hate the sacrifice you had to make to bring us back

Five years

Alone

I can't imagine how you must have felt without us

I know I wouldn't have survived

But you did

You were always the stronger one out of the two of us

Then you paid the ultimate price

For us

For all of us

I will always love you

We will always love you

You spin the ring you still wear on your finger

It is the only thing you have left of her from something that feels like it was a lifetime ago

Sometimes I don't know what to do with it all - This love that was meant for you

It overwhelms me when I read the letters you left for us

The letters that serve as an extra reminder you were real

That your love for us was real

The biggest reminder of our love is our daughter

You visit this empty grave at least once a week

'Daughter, Sister, Avenger'

The only word missing is 'Mother'

No one knew of your daughter

It is safer this way

God, she reminds me of you everyday

You scoff at the recent memories you have of her as well as the ones with your wife

A tear escapes your eye but you wipe it away just as quick as it falls

You recount the images playing in your head with a smile on your face

Midnight cravings for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

Her sense of humor

The green in her eyes that shine when they fill with mischief

And that stupid smirk

Your stupid smirk

You would have loved her, Natasha

She is just like You.

[spookyspecterino]

Gentle Promises in the Dark

Sam Coe x GN! Starborn! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions.

Spoilers for Starfield's endgame content.

No warnings. There's just a pinch of anxiety, but it's all fluff and happiness.

Sam asks what your future plans are. Will you leave him in search for another universe or stay behind?

This was a lovely request! I'll be closing them for now, just because I have more to catch up on and I've been getting distracted. Thank you to everyone for supporting my work! This fandom has been so welcoming and lovely to interact with!

Sam lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It must be late by now. But he isn’t tired, his mind turns over and over with endless thoughts.

A faint ray of light draws his attention, it’s the bedroom door opening just a crack for you to slip in. It shuts right behind you, returning the room to its inky blackness. His thoughts halt with the sound of your quiet footsteps.

Sam feels you slide under the covers, your feet are cold, as usual, and you snuggle up to him. Instinctually he’s moving to let you lay on his bare chest—your favorite spot.

“Hey.��� You whisper, sounding content at last.

“Darlin’.” He drawls back in greeting, wrapping his arms around you.

“You doing ok? You’re not usually awake this late.”

“Just thinking.”

“Hm. About what?”

“Just about…” he sighs. “Everything.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

“Yeah…”

An uncomfortable silence lays in the air. Instead of passing, it lingers until Sam sighs again.

He decides to ask the question that’s been on his mind for a few weeks now.

“Are you going to go back into the Unity?”

Are you going to leave me behind?

You don’t answer at first. Memories surface of all the other times you traveled through the Unity. And all the times you came out of the other side. Feeling empty.

Out of fear or nervousness, you may have brushed the question off any other time, but now you answer honestly. “I don’t know. A long time ago I thought it was my purpose. Finding artifacts, fighting the Hunter, passing through the Unity… but…”

Sam hesitates, waiting on the edge, he wants you to continue. But he’s afraid of your answer.

“This universe…it’s different than the others.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked this, but how many universes have you been to? How many years have you been doing this?”

You chuckle. It sounds pained. “Too many to count and too many for one lifetime.”

Sam tries to laugh, to alleviate the anxiety he feels bundled up in his chest. “You tellin’ me you’re older than I am?”

Groaning playfully, you nuzzle into his neck. Your smile against his skin makes his heavy heart a little lighter.

“Let’s not talk about that part.”

He pulls you closer. “Ok deal.”

The silence lingers again.

“Are you looking for an opinion?” he asks, his voice very quiet.

“From you? Always.”

“I think you should stay here. With us—with me. We could…” He clears his throat, swallowing the words his heart wanted him to say.

“We could what?”

After a few beats of his pounding heart, “It’s gonna sound sappy, but…we just keep going. Grow older together. Watch Cora grow up. Live out our golden years exploring the stars.”

“You really want that?”

“Hell yes I do.”

You fall silent. Sam stares into the dark. He feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into a deep abyss with no end. He wished you’d just spit it out, give him the bad news so he could start preparing himself to lose you—

“I can’t think of anything I’d want more.”

Sam’s whole body relaxes with a long-winded exhale. Had he been holding his breath?

“Did you think I was going to say no?”

“Honestly…I was kind of expecting you to. How could I compare to the life—or lifetimes—you’ve lived traveling to new universes? How could I compare to the power you gain every time you cross over?” He looks away, shrugging. “There’s an infinite number of me out there. You could do this again in the next universe.”

You pull back, propping yourself up to look at him in the dark. He can see the faint outline of your face. You’re frowning.

“There’s only one of you that’s like you. I have never met another that comes close.”

“You’re just trying to flatter me.”

You take his chin in your hand, forcing him to face you and preventing him from turning away. “Out of infinite universes, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”

“What about the one in your original universe?”

“If I loved him, I wouldn’t have left.”

“Huh…so that means…?”

“Yes.” He can see you smile. “I choose you. I’m staying.”

He laughs, pressing a light kiss to your lips. “Well, I guess first things first.”

You lean your forehead to his, he can hear the smile in your voice. “And what would that be?”

“I’m gonna marry you.”

[locke-esque-monster]

I came into season 2 of Loki knowing how it ended. This is not something that endears me to fiction, because knowing how it ends is for a re-watch. If I come in knowing the ending, it only results in me consciously or subconsciously looking at the show to see how the puzzle comes together rather than enjoying the ride.

I also came into Loki season 2 pleasantly enjoying how they approached time travel in season 1 (ex. far better than say Endgame), but not terribly impressed, because I've seen it done better.

I enjoy the characters, and I like time travel, and I wanted to enjoy the ride despite all this.

But the last 2 episodes of Loki truly took me aback. The discussions of science vs fiction in episode 5 were a pleasant surprise. But the last episode...

I can't say I've encountered a time loop of the character's own making before in visual media (not to say it doesn't exist, but that I can't think of an instance I've seen on screen). I've seen a character driven mad in a time loop they're stuck in, but not watched one they chose. And Tom Hiddleston played it pitch perfect. He has all the desperation, the efficiency, the exhaustion, and yet the perseverance to fix this problem - but not quite the madness. Because he understands why he's there and what he needs to do instead of being trapped there by some other force. Listen to how Loki encourages Victor down the walk, with all the right words but none of the inflection- he's done this too many times before. But listen to him talk to Victor on his way back - the encouragement is genuine because this is the first time it's happened. In these scenes alone you see what Loki's been through during all the times we haven't seen him go back. But it also on a small scale encapsulates the futility and hope that's a part of every time travel story.

Putting Loki through hundreds of years to fix this problem is so understated, but the perfect way to show that he didn't come to his sacrifice at the end without doing literally everything he can to fix the problem. And making Loki a long-living demi-god actually improves the circumstances, because he has a perspective that few would on time. And it shows his growth on how much time he's willing to spend on humans he's known so little compared to his lifetime (prior to the aforementioned centuries of trying to fix this issue).

Making a way to get out of the time loop the final ethical problem of a 2 season show, and 12 years of Hiddleston (impeccably) playing a character stuck in his ways is inspired. It's an episode that was far more focused on Loki himself in a way I hadn't even noticed the show wasn't doing until now. And the choice to make the god of chaos the enabling of a multiverse allowing chaos and free will to exist forevermore is perfect.

While I can't say this show or finale was perfect, it was firing on far more cylinders than I anticipated. And I was much more moved by the ending than I ever expected to be.

[axkirak]

I Will Follow You Into The Dark

Pairings:  Astarion x Original Female Character(Named Tav)  [From Baldur's Gate 3]

Tag/Warnings : Canon Compliant, Post-Endgame, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Tragedy, Mentions of past abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, References to Depression, Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis : Astarion returned to the city of Baldur's Gate, following the final request of his beloved, who asked him to bury her next to his grave. As dawn approached, Astarion held the lifeless body of his love, reminiscing about the countless memories they shared together.

A/N : The story started when I came across this tweet: 'do you guys think your tavs/durges stayed with their love interest long term or not?'

I got the idea to tell the story of my Tav and her love interest, Astarion. What would happen to them after the end of Baldur's Gate 3? I've been thinking about it a lot and it's quite heartbreaking.

From these little headcanons, I developed this one-shot about them.

My Tav is a human bard with a noble background. So, I imagined her as the daughter of a noble Baldurian,which contrasts with Astarion's background. Their initial relationship was more of a adversaries before blossoming into love in the end.

Listening to the song "I Will Follow You into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie gave me a lot of inspiration for this couple. (At first, I wanted to use the song "Take Me To Church" as the title, but it's too popular. I thought a song that many might not have heard of would be fitting for this tale.)

Read in Ao3 : here

"Jones," Astarion whispered, calling his beloved, but she didn't respond. 

Her eyes closed tightly, her body growing colder with each passing moment. 

Astarion pulled her closer, hoping his slight warmth might warm her. He knew it wouldn't help, and she would never wake to look into his eyes again.

Human lives are fleeting, from young maiden to old crone, from crone to spirit. 

Her entire life was a blink of an eye compared to his cursed immortality. 

Once, Astarion had both disdain and curiosity about this human. A race so fragile and feeble, never wielding a sword to harm anyone, raised in a noble family, spending half a comfortable lifetime in a grand mansion in Baldur’s Gate, surrounded by obedient servants bowing to her every whim.

He couldn't make sense of her. For a vampire like him who had struggled to survive amidst enemies and a cruel world for centuries. He was nothing but a bloodthirsty creature, a servant under a master's foot who got treated worse than a common slave, struggling to sustain his life with the taste of filthy rat blood that almost made him vomit.

Astarion envies her for an ideal life in the gilded cage he could only dream of. envied the short-lived human existence. While he had no right to die willingly if his evil master didn't want him to die,

And he wondered why she had fled her high-life in the capital city of Baldur’s Gate to suffer with them. why someone so inept at fighting would risk her life battling monsters, from goblins and evil undead to even gods, to aid them and help everyone unrelated to her.

He thought Jones was foolish, and he didn't like fools.

Ironically, eighty years later, he found himself shedding tears at her death.

"I wish to be buried beside your grave, Astarion." That was one of her last wishes before she breathed her last in his embrace. This led Astarion to make the singular decision to step out of the Underdark and return to Baldur’s Gate, the city where he once hated heavily, to fulfill the last wish of his beloved.

The black sky began to turn deep blue. Astarion knew he should hurry to bury Jones properly before the sunrise. As he contemplated, his eyes caught withered flowers left on the ground near his own grave marker. For a brief moment, Astarion reminisced about the memories he shared with her. He had once brought Jones to his own grave, recounting his life before turning into a vampire. and then visualizing a future where he wished to live with her,as his past had died over two centuries ago and she was the only future he desired.

Astarion remembered his overwhelming fear that Jones might refuse him. She was the highborn daughter of Baldur’s Gate's noble families. Why would she choose to endure the hardships of life with an elf vampire like him?

Yet his fear vanished instantly when he saw the soft smile on her smooth face. She placed flowers on his grave and embraced him, accepting his love wholeheartedly. 

That night was the night he died and was reborn in her embrace. Not as the enslaved Astarion, not as the villainous Astarion, but as Astarion the redeemed, never to be alone again because he would have her by his side forever.

But the words 'forever' don't really exist, especially for humans and vampires.

Still, Astarion couldn't help but secretly hope.

Sometimes, darker thoughts overshadow his mind, eclipsing all the goodness he has left. Astarion often secretly pondered that if he chose the path of power, performed an ancient ritual to sacrifice seven thousand souls to a devil, and transformed himself into a vampire ascendant, he would have enough strength to walk in the sunlight with her and enough power to turn her into a vampire like him. Then they could live together forever without the fear of death taking her away.

But it was Jones who restrained him then. She persuaded Astarion to see that these powers offered him nothing but the dark legacy of the Vampire Master, an inheritance of wickedness that would never end. She told him he could be better than Cazador, his former master, and he didn't have to continue killing others to sustain his existence anymore.

Astarion trusted her, though he couldn't deny feeling deeply regretful. And Jones sensed his feelings. She gently grasped his cold hands and earnestly vowed, "Astarion, I will find a way to cure you of vampirism, so you can walk under the sunlight with me again."

And she kept her promise. After successfully helping Baldur’s Gate city fend off the threats of the Mind Flayers and Nether Brain, she and him began a new adventure together. They journeyed across the entire continent of Faerûn, from Waterdeep to Athkatla, Neverwinter, Luskan, and even the mysterious realm of Feywild, all in pursuit of finding a cure for him.

Those times were special, building strong bonds and beautiful memories between them. They laughed together, danced together, fought together, and held each other close under vast skies and twinkling stars as witnesses.

Until Jones began to age and couldn’t continue the journey. That was when they both realized how little time they had left. And no matter how much time and effort they put in, there was no way to find a cure for him anymore.

Facing the harsh reality was incredibly difficult. Astarion had to hide his deep sorrow while he tried to persuade her to stop the adventure and live out her remaining days in the Underdark, the dark and sunless realm, the only place where he could be with her.

He knew what the near future held. Nothing would hurt as much as watching his beloved age continuously, waiting for her time to pass while he remained unchanged.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you as I promised. Please forgive me," she said during their time in Underdark. Her bright blue eyes, the very eyes he fell in love with, overflowed with guilt.

Astarion wanted her to know that he could never be angry or hate her.

The shovel still lay untouched on the ground, with no sign of being used anytime soon. While the vampire elf sat silently in front of his own grave marker, letting old memories flow through his mind once more,. Both his arms cradled her lifeless body as if she were still alive.

"My beloved, please continue to live on for me. I wish to see you happy for a long time," another of her last requests echoed in his mind. The gentle touch of her frail hand on his cheek still lingers in his heart to this day.

"Jones." Astarion whispers her name again. Tears, which he had not shed for a long time, now streamed down his pale face. "I can't do it," he murmured to her lifeless body. "How can I find happiness without you?"

A golden beam slowly crept in, chasing away the darkness from the vast sky. Yet Astarion's body remained unmoving, just like the eyes of the vampire, which refused to leave the withered face of his beloved for a second. He memorized every detail of her, keeping it in his memory as best as he could. She still looked as beautiful as ever in his eyes—always and forever.

"I wish the next life was real. I hope we'll meet again, live together, and build a family," Astarion whispered softly, planting a tender kiss on the edge of her lips. "Wait for me, darling. I'll follow you soon, no matter where you choose to go."

Finally, he tore his gaze away from her, looking up at the sky once more. For the first time in centuries, he had the chance to gaze at the nearing dawn with full eyes. As the sun peeked over the horizon, followed by the warm rays starting to seep through his skin, cracks began to form, turning his skin into tiny specks of dust.

Before his final consciousness faded, Astarion's thoughts remained vivid. 

This was the most beautiful dawn he had ever witnessed.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 50 – ENDGAME

MASTERPOST

Here are all the fics I recommended this week. If you want to see my actual review of these fics, the posts are all linked as well. Please enjoy, and remember to leave comments and kudos!

MON: long fic (50k+)

Where Our Restless Monsters Sleep by Mizzy

TUE: mid-length fics (15-50k)

And Beyond by AlchemyAlice

From Where We Began by orphan_account

Avengers No More (In Infinity) by navaan

WED: series (with 3+ fics)

front row seats: Series by Annie D (scaramouche)

THU: long fic (50k+)

Ship to Shore by msermesth

FRI: short fics (>15k)

Every True Thing by dirigibleplumbing

like-like by nanasekei

Zero to One by magicasen

and so begins by romanoff

Rewriting The Universe by itsallAvengers

SAT: author spotlight

JenTheSweetie

4 out of 5 dentists recommend Another Place special dispensation And Time Can Do So Much dress code

SUN: short fics (>15k)

we survived the great war by meidui

You make me completely alive by erde (orphan_account)

would've loved you for a lifetime (leave it all behind) by tunastork (mariexa)

The only way is forwards by mvltihart

to love a wild thing is by Tailish

[blissfulstarsfics]

Black and White Chapter 17

Read on AO3

Chapter Rating: M

Pairing: A!A x F Tav

“You worry far too much, darling.” “And you don’t worry enough.”

Summary: Astarion's newest spawn awakens and is ordered to spill the secrets of his adversaries. He behaves coldly towards an emotional Tav, who is uncertain of the immediate future. When he dashes off to continue groundwork for his endgame, she bonds with Shadowheart.

Astarion descended into the burial pits deep below the dungeon. The unknown mage will soon be clawing out of the grave, much like he did centuries ago. Just like him, the first thing this elf would see is his new master. 

Standing at the foot of the burial site, he could already hear the fledgling below stir in desperation. Thinking back, how long did it take him to escape his grave? Minutes? Hours? However long it was, he remembered it feeling like a lifetime. A pity this new spawn was a wizard and not a warrior. This could take a while.

About half an hour went by with little progress. Usually, he has the bodies buried in shallow holes. The less time they spend underground, the more time they have to serve him. An exception was made for this vile cretin. Every second of his unlife would be spent in abject horror. It was only fitting. No one threatens the vampire ascendant and gets away with it.

Shadows formed in the pit. Light sources weren’t needed in this place. The only entities who entered here were already well adjusted to the dark. Astarion turned to see the spiral staircase lit up. He grit his teeth, hearing the shuffling of satin skirts and clicking of well made heels.

“You shouldn’t be here!” He darted to the stairs that Elia was carefully descending, one hand on a lantern, the other on her skirts. “This is no place for a woman of your standing. Gods, what if you fell?” Astarion ripped the lantern from her hand, forcing her to take his. 

“Then, I would get back up. Isn’t that what most do?” Safe at the bottom, she jerked her hand away, “I have the right to question this bastard too.”

“You couldn’t wait until I had him brought to a more respectable area of the palace?”

“No.” Elia turned on heel and sat on a wooden crate used to hold unused shovels, arms folded. She wasn’t going to budge. Legs crossed, she swung her foot impatiently. Did she have any idea how dangerous a hungry newborn spawn could be? Astarion clicked his tongue. The fledgling was about halfway to the surface now. 

“Hurry the hells up, dammit!” He commanded. Under his compulsion, the spawn dug faster. I should have thought to do that earlier, he thought. Pale fingers emerged from the soil, then arms, a torso. He coughed raggedly, spitting up congealed blood all over himself. Ah, memories. Astarion yanked him out of the dirt, eyes burning like embers, “Kneel.” 

The spawn had no choice but to obey. Elia pulled a quill, ink, and parchment from her satchel, “I want the names and descriptions of his associates. All of them.” Astarion kicked the man in the ribs.

“You heard the lady. Names and descriptions. Now!” The spawn crawled to Elia, reaching out for the quill and parchment. Astarion threw him to the ground, pinning him with his boot, “Did I say you could touch the mistress?” A gurgling cry flew out when the master dug his heel in deeper. Elia set the parchment on the ground, where he scribbled the desired information. She snatched the finished document, holding it aloft for both of them to read.

“Eleven names. Two of whom are in the custody of the Flaming Fists. Six elves, three half elves, two humans. It’s a start.” 

“Yes,” he grabbed a fistful of the spawn’s fiery hair, wrenching his head up, “What are Carvalur’s plans?” The spawn’s eyes glowed harshly under the compulsion.

“Correllon has declared that the heretic, Tav, must die. He had chosen her to be the life partner of the Prophet, yet she has chosen to dirty herself in the bed of an undead. She has let her womb be defiled by a vampire’s progeny. Even if it takes centuries, she must be brought to justice. As for her unholy mate, he is to be exposed. Dragged into sunlight. The condemned will watch her lover fall from grace, her child burned alive, only then will she be granted death.”

Astarion had a mind to end the wretch then and there, but he refrained. Killing him now would do him no good. This one would be kept under lock and key until he saw fit to dispose of him. 

“You will stay here, in this dank chamber, until I instruct you otherwise.” He threw the whimpering elf to the ground. Let this be a lesson to the other spawn. This was the fate of those who opposed him. Starvation, banishment, the begging for a death that would never come.

Elia folded the parchment carefully and placed it in her satchel. She tried masking how unnerved she was, but Astarion knew better. Her slender hands protectively rubbed her abdomen. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Not waiting for a reply, she picked up her lantern, quickly ascending the stairs. The shadows danced along the walls as the light receded before filling the room in total darkness once more. 

The kneeling elf sobbed into the dirt, lamenting his terrible fate. Astarion couldn’t help but laugh at such a sad, miserable sight. 

“Where’s your bravery now, boy?” He kicked the back of the spawn’s head, “Not long ago you were cursing my name, threatening my wife.” The ascendant’s voice echoed diabolically off the gloomy brick walls, sending the man into hysterics. “How wretched you are,” he cleared his throat, “That being said, you sit here and think about what you’ve done.” 

Astarion placed his arms behind his back, smugly raising his nose to the air. As he left the elf alone, his mouth twisted cruelly into a grin, relishing in the fading sounds of his sobs and moans. 

Standing behind the hidden door, Astarion could hear the other spawn frantically talking amongst each other.

“He’s never treated one of us like that!” 

“Calm down, Luro, it’s because that dumbass threatened the mistress and the lil one.”

“Did you hear those screams?”

“Yes, I did. We all did. Now stay on the master’s good side and you won’t receive similar treatment!”

Emerging from the pit’s entrance, the spawn abruptly stopped their chattering. They all viewed him with a new sense of dread. The rude maid anxiously stepped forward, chewing on her lip.

“M..master?”

“Yes, Gabriella?” The intonation was sickly sweet, too sweet by the spawn’s judgment.

“The mistress says she’ll be in the library.” The girl shrank as if expecting a beating or scolding. Astarion looked at the rest of the spawn. Eyes downcast, muscles tense, utterly afraid to breathe. 

“My dear spawn,” he rested a sympathetic hand on Gabriella, “All of my dear spawn,” he outstretched his hand to the others, “I hate to see your hearts so full of uncertainty. Do not forget, I am a benevolent master to those who serve me faithfully. 

Give me your unwavering loyalty and you shall be kept free to feed on thinking creatures. Keep our secrets and you shall live comfortably, you will be happy. You are to be my adored agents, faithfully exacting my will,” his face darkened, “Although, should you cross me, you will dine on vermin. Defy me and you shall starve alone in the wastes until the end of time. I will not kill you, but you will wish I would.”

The spawn stood at attention, “Yes, Master!”

“Thank you, Master!” Gabriella mewled, “for your kindness!” She bowed at her waist in an attempt at appeasement, her whole body trembling. In response, he patted her on the back. Gabriella may be rough around the edges, but she was learning. Walking passed them, he heard a collective sigh of relief. The little lesson worked.

Inside the library, Elia was curled under a cotton blanket by a crackling fire. The door clicked shut behind him, but she barely moved. He circled around the couch where she sat huddled, deep in thought. 

“That bastard got to me,” she sneered, “When he threatened our child, he got to me.” Her focus never left the flickering flames. “We were wrong about their attack the other day. I wasn’t the target, you were. Thankfully, our combined efforts quelled them before any real damage could be done. In fact, I believe we managed to come out on top. Declarations of support have been pouring in since.”

Astarion couldn’t help but smirk. Let them come, he would make a meal of each of them. If they all came at once, why, he would have to have a grand feast with his spawn. Even this new one. How delightful it would be to have the newcomer drain one of his old friends.

“You worry far too much, darling.” “And you don’t worry enough,” she slammed her fist into the couch, “I was able to defend myself, but gods did it wear me down. We still have over a year before I give birth. If I were them, I would bide my time until I was unable to move well enough to fight. They are cowardly and zealous enough to strike a weakened foe.”

“Please, pet, stop talking as if I won’t be at your side. You insult me.”

“I would think you, of all people, would be able to sympathize with the disgust of feeling helpless,” she seethed. 

Growing weary, Astarion threw his arms up in the air. This was exhausting. She was exhausting. Why in the hells wouldn’t she just listen to him? Without another word, he left for his study. A night alone might do her some good, he thought. There was business to be conducted elsewhere. He had no time for a moody wife.

The gradual shift from night to day sent gentle rays of sunlight into the lord’s office. He had worked through the night to keep his mind off his precious little wife’s oscillating emotions. Astarion had hoped she would enter her reverie once he’d left, but to no avail. Thinking about it, she had become increasingly nocturnal as of late. Perhaps the fetus was affecting her in unforeseen ways. Perhaps it was their bond.

No matter. He had other important affairs to tend to. Namely, his formal induction into the Knights of the Shield. There were secret organizations, then there were the Knights. They never met in the same place twice, and when they did it was rarely in numbers larger than six. Members were also instructed to reveal themselves to no more than three associates. 

A rectangular box sat at the edge of his desk containing a long robe and a mask. Due to secrecy, everyone would be wearing garbs that obfuscated their appearance and voices. This would work well enough on other members, but Astarion had other abilities at his disposal. 

Sight and sound may be muddied, but not smell. He had the advantage of being able to recognize every patriar in the Upper City by scent alone. Their identities would be known by him by day’s end. 

Donning the robe and mask, he took out a small, magical teleportation device that would take him to the predetermined destination. In a flash, he was transported from the Crimson Palace into a dark, damp cavern. 

Several others had already arrived, clustering against the moist, craggy interior. Mortal men would not have noticed them. Given his soon to be initiate status, he wagered that he wasn’t to know they were even there. Breathing in deep, amidst the mildewed and sour odors, he caught the essences of many a man and woman he knew. 

Some were unfamiliar, probably those who traveled from other cities. He did his best to commit them to memory. Their identities would remain a mystery, for now. A perfect match could not be obtained until he met them in person, up close.

A cloud of black smoke roiled in front of him, giving way to a new cloaked figure. The mask they wore was more elaborate than the rest of the members. Theirs were simple ovals with slits for eyes, this new person’s bore infernal markings and horns. Not surprising. Though they were not infernal in nature, the unmistakable, sulphuric odor of the hells clung to them.

The figure’s robes swished when he brought his arms to the air, signaling the commencement of the ceremony. Astarion and two other initiates formed a line in front of the horned mask. Words were spoken, but the vampire was only half listening. The cool dampness of the cavern sticking to his body and clothes were far too distracting. Why did they pick such a foul meeting spot?

In his eyes, all this was beneath him. Initiations, rituals, the hierarchy, all of it. He would have loved nothing more than to enthrall the gathered assembly, but he knew better than to be hasty. Besides, that would be far too easy. Making them all submit willingly to him would be far more fun.

Up close, he recognized the masked man as the son of one of Baldur’s Gate’s elites: Amrik Vanthampur. It was long rumored that his family were devil worshippers, now he had confirmation. 

Accusations came to a head when a band of conscripted Fists accused the family of funding the cult of the dead three to sow chaos in Baldur’s Gate. However, being of great influence, the Vanthampurs were able to sweep the debacle under the rug. Coincidentally, their accusers left the city under mysterious circumstances, never to be heard from again, and society went on as if the whole thing never happened.

The ceremony was dull and monotonous enough to put him to sleep. When all was said and done, everyone was dismissed. No fraternizing, no receiving of congratulations or welcomes, just an order for abrupt departure with the promise that agents would contact them shortly. Thank the gods, Astarion thought. The humidity was starting to make his hair frizz. 

One more click of the provided magical device and he was back in his study. Disrobing, he let the now disgusting fabric fall onto the floor in a heap. The maids could deal with it. All he wanted right now was a hot bath and a well deserved nap.

~~~~~

Tav’s body was tired and sore from a poor night’s rest. After Astarion left her alone, she ended up crying herself to sleep. Yes, sleep. Elves preferred the stability and efficiency of reverie, but sleep was not entirely impossible for them. They only did so when ill, gravely wounded, or -in Tav’s case- badly fatigued. 

Paranoia was setting in hard and fast. Every gust of wind, every bit of idle chatter, the clacking of shoes on the hardwood floor, the laughter of children, all of it made her reach for the dagger she now kept on her person.

What was her great vampire husband doing in the middle of the approaching dangers? Prancing around, business as usual. “You worry too much,” he says. The door to the library quietly swung open. Shadowheart entered, carrying a tray of raw and pickled vegetables, cheese, cured meats, crackers, and a pitcher of juice.

“Are you ever going to come out?” She asked, setting the tray in front of them. Tav stacked a slice of ham and smoked cheddar on a water biscuit. The cracker was stale and crumbled onto the rug. She had hoped the kitchen had the good sense to not have served these to the patriars at the reception.

“I may need to leave in order to fire some of the help. Why did they leave such old food in the pantry? Honestly,” she said, disdainfully. 

“Come off it, your ladyship,” Shadowheart poured them cups of juice, “We both know you’re redirecting your anger. Keep it targeted at its rightful recipient.”

“Wherever he is,” she raised her glass, “Without a care in the world, while I grow rounder by the day. Soon I’ll be waddling around like the penguins in Alpuk.” A loud crash came from the next room. Unsheathing her dagger, Tav ran in to find a porcelain saucer on the floor. The butler knelt apologetically upon seeing his wrathful mistress, knife in hand.

“Clean it up before the master finds out,” she commanded, sheathing the blade. Breathing heavily, she returned to the library where she nearly collapsed on the couch. Shadowheart placed a hand on her forehead, giving her a quick examination.

“You can’t allow yourself to become ensnared like this. You’re letting Carvalur win,” she handed Tav her cup. The sweet liquid quenched her thirst, but it did nothing to calm her nerves. Ringing a bell, she sent a maid to fetch chamomile tea. 

Next to a bookshelf, she saw a bottle of her favorite red. Shadowheart’s eyebrows raised as Tav stepped over to uncork the dark green glass.

“Uh, Tav? What are you doing?” The cleric sat up, hearing the rich burgundy splash into the tapered glass.

“I can’t get drunk, you’ll have to do it for me.” The bard practically slammed the bottle and cup in front of her friend. Shadowheart eyed the offering with a grin.

“Who am I to say no?” She took a long gulp of the velvety, full-bodied beverage, “I can see why you like this variety.” The maid had returned with the tea just in time for the ladies to hear Astarion moving about. 

“Look who the cat dragged in. Bah!” She poured herself a cup from the teapot. Tav sat back, gracelessly on the couch, swirling the steaming fluid. Shadowheart snorted at the sight of this supposed aristocratic woman in the same crumpled dress she’d slept in, slumped back, wearing a scowl. She looked every bit as un-ladylike as she had when they were camping in the rain, dining off scraps from bins. Refilling her empty glass, Shadowheart scooted closer to Tav, letting the elf rest her head on her shoulder. 

“You know, we could always run off to my cottage in the countryside if Astarion continues to be a prick. It could be the two of us with my father.” The sarcasm dripped from her lips. Tav considered, hypothetically, what it would be like raising her child in the countryside. Watching him or her frolic in the fields, making crowns of flowers, playing with the barnyard animals. 

“We’ll spend our days churning butter, raking muck, and going barefoot in the woods. Right up my alley.” Both of them roared with laughter. Tav might be well traveled, capable of roughing it, but a farmhand she was not.

“You wouldn’t last a day!”

“A day? You’re being generous. Though, I daresay I’d still last longer than Astarion. He’d quit as soon as he arrived.” She sipped her tea, trying not to spill it as she kept cackling.

“Could you imagine Astarion in denim overalls and a straw hat?” Shadowheart wasn’t as lucky with her wine. Drops of the red vintage spilled onto her pale blue top, bleeding quickly into the fabric, “Dammit!”

She stood up, a bit too quick, crashing back onto the couch. The wine was incredibly deceptive with its potency. Tav sighed, set down her cup and saucer, then helped Shadowheart to her feet. The cleric grinned sheepishly, yet appreciative of the aid.

Thankfully, her room wasn't a terribly far walk. By the time they arrived, the effects of the liquor had worsened. 

“I should have eaten more,” Shadowheart slurred. This wasn’t entirely her fault. Tav was the one who thrust the bottle in front of her. Now, on top of the torrent of emotions was a heaping dollop of guilt. She didn’t seem to care that Tav was still present, undressing herself down to her smallclothes. It didn’t phase the bard, they had all seen each other unclothed at some point in their journey.

At the end of the bed was a worn traveler’s chest containing Shadowheart’s wardrobe. Tav pulled out a fresh pair of black linen slacks and a white tunic. Actually, no, she thought, tossing the tunic back in, that will get ruined if she gets sick, instead she settled on a black cotton tunic with floral embroidery at the collar, much better.

Shadowheart sat at the edge of the bed, legs crossed, propped up on her arms. If Tav didn’t know any better, she’d think her friend was trying to seduce her. Flashing a nervous smile, she placed the new set of clothes on the satin bedding. When she did, she was caught off guard by two slender arms around her neck. 

Dumbfounded, Tav stared into a pair of enchanting green eyes. The old wound on Shadowheart’s hand lightly scraped against Tav’s cheek as she trailed her hand down the elf’s face and neck.

“It’s not fair,” the pungent aroma of the burgundy hung on her breath, “I saw you first. When we crashed off the nautiloid. You shook me awake. I took your hand. He held a dagger to your throat. And he is the one who has you,” she traced a delicate finger over Tav’s full lips, “It’s not fair.

Heat rushed to her face. Unsure of what to do next, Tav sat there stunned. She had no idea that Shadowheart harbored such feelings towards her. Had she been blind or did the Selunite keep her heart well concealed? 

There was no time for reflections, the next thing she knew a pair of soft lips were tenderly kissing hers. She found herself unable to pull away from the sweet affections Shadowheart was beginning to lavish upon her. How she kissed, how she moved her hands was so different from Astarion.

Purple light flashed brightly, “Ah! It hurts!” She pulled away due to the pain. The old wound pulsed from the cruel goddess’s ire. Shar did love to butt in when her former follower was coming dangerously close to being happy. 

This may have been a blessing in disguise. Tav placed the clothes on Shadowheart’s lap and went to leave. Through the cracked opening, she saw a pair of crimson eyes. “Fuck,” she whispered. 

Upon opening the door, he was gone. Astarion was going to make her come to him. What choice did she have but to play his game? If he had caught Shadowheart kissing her, it could spell her doom.

If he was angry, she could not feel it. The walk to the master bedroom felt like a thousand miles. She felt her limbs grow heavy with each step. Gods, maybe he was right? Maybe I am made of glass, she deprecatingly thought.

Astarion was busy primping in the mirror when she arrived. He slowly turned around and leaned against the vanity, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. Tav knew she had to proceed cautiously. How this conversation went may determine whether Shadowheart spends the night in her bed or a coffin. 

“Well, well,” he was certainly enthusiastic, “How was it? Tasting our little house guest?”

Tav held her hands up in placatingly, “Astarion, she was drunk. It meant nothing. Please…” Astarion’s face scrunched before he burst into laughter.

“Of course it meant nothing. Little love, do you think I’m upset? You allow me to indulge in my appetites, why would I deny you yours?” He grabbed her by the waist, pressing her body against his, “You’re allowed to have a little fun from time to time. So, tell me how she was?”

Still wary, she chose her next words carefully, “Drunk. Soft? I can’t really say.”

“That’s it?” He asked, disappointed. “Well, if you two do end up having a night together, you’ll have to tell me all about it.”

“Are you,” she was a little hurt at how relaxed he was about her potentially sleeping around, “Are you really okay with sharing me like this? Bed hopping?”

“Darling, I’m not sharing anything. We’re talking about a bit of fun, a whim, experimentation, a night of passion, nothing more. What we have is far more than that. I have you in a deeper, more significant way than Shadowheart ever could.” 

She could detect no deceit from him. Astarion’s view on sex strayed from the conventional norms. Wanton hedonism was as much a part of him as his fangs. Tav still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the subject. 

Nights with Astarion gave her fulfillment beyond mere lust. His touch, his voice, all of him was a sensory experience that made her feel whole, free, loved, secure. To be so casual gave her a sense of uncertainty.

“I don’t know,” she spoke truthfully. His smirk widened. 

“Well, whenever you’re ready,” he leaned into her ear, “I would love to watch, by the way.”

Tav pushed away from him. With everything that had been going on, she couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. Exhausted, she curled up on the bed. This was going to be a long year.

Will Astarion and Elia survive this rocky time in their relationship?

Or will she run off to the countryside with Shadowheart? Yee haw, y'all it's farmerstarion. (No, not really.)

Thank you for reading. Leave a comment, like, or reblog if you wish.

[mamadoc]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you to for tagging me, @thisnightissparkling089 !

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

I have only written 6 fics on AO3, but I tend to write long chapters and long stories.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

313,810

Pretty good for 7 months, right?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only The Rookie. 😎

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Catch of a Lifetime

Snowed In

*Sense* You Know Me So Well

*Sense* You Know Me So Well, Too - The Sequel

The Heimlich

5. Do you respond to comments?

Every comment thread! I love interacting with people who read my stories. I think it's one of the things that makes writing fanfiction so much fun.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have a few rules in my writing. 1 - Chenford is endgame. 2 - Only happy endings. 3 - No Major Character Death!

My reading and writing affect my mood, and I read to find a little spot of joy and sunshine.

That said, my sequel series, After the Snow Melts, has a lot more angst than my other stories. Although the ending is happy, it's not a perfect resolution of the story.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The last (third) chapter of *Sense* You Know Me So Well is so amazingly sweet and fluffy that it would rot your teeth.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, no. I've had a few rude requests for me to continue a story, but that's as close as I've gotten. I'm so grateful for the people that leave kind comments on my stories.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No. I'll write 'spicy' scenes, but nothing I would consider smut or going into M or E categories.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No. I've considered it, and I've read a few that are great. But I never have.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

As far as I know, I have not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

No. But I have a few frequent commenters on Twitter/X that comment in other languages. I don't know if they read it in English or translate it, but they comment in Spanish, Portuguese, and German.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. When I first got some story ideas, I reached out to a few writers I admired to see if they would be interested in co-writing the stories with me. None of them were interested. That's when I had to break out my big girl panties and try it by myself. 😂😎 I'm glad I did. It's been such a rewarding hobby.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Chenford🥰

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have several ideas jotted down on my Notes app on my phone. I don't know how many of them will ever be fleshed out and see the light of day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmmm... I'm not sure. I feel like my writing is very descriptive and in character so that the reader can really feel like they're seeing it all play out. At least that's what I hear back from some readers. My stories are also longer, which allows the reader to disappear into that world for longer.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I still feel very new at this and lack some confidence in my writing skills. I've tried my hand at a few action scenes, but I'm not sure they come together as well as the relationship/dialogue scenes. I'm also an older Millennial, so some of the social media aspect of fanfiction and this fandom are new to me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it once. I just used Google translate to get some easy Chinese for Lucy and her mother to have a quick conversation. But I speak French and Korean, so I could potentially add that in sometime in the future. I just don't know how well that would fit into a Chenford story.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

This one. I had never done creative writing in my adult life until 7 months ago, hence my lack of confidence.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I have really loved writing Catch of a Lifetime. I feel like it's different than a lot of the stories I've read on AO3, but it still has the characters we know and love.

*Sense* You Know Me So Well is my favorite of my shorter stories, particularly chapter 2. It feels very realistic and true to what could have happened in the snow.

And chapter 2 of *Sense* You Know Me So Well, Too - The Sequel is the one I feel like draws on the deepest feelings and most genuine heart of Chenford.

Thanks, ladies! Tagging @makeitastrength and @queseraone and @girlintotv and @chenfordspiral if they're interested in talking about their writing.

[dtrghost]

feat of blood and ash

This wasn't a request, but definitely something I wanted to write.

simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader

summary: another day, another name on your list. but this one, this one was special, but just how far can the card of sentimentality take you in a card game destined for him to lose?

Callsign is Apex and no use of Y/N.

warnings: angst, mentions of violence, death, short but something i desperately wanted to write

This game of push and pull was one sided. You were given your mission years ago, the assignment as clear as day in your mind. Shepherd's call ringing in your pocket on a Saturday afternoon as you sat in your usual spot at a cafe you'd taken a liking to after so many visits. You remembered standing in his office, the way you could barely focus on what he was saying due to the sun rising in the corner your eye. The view was beautiful that morning, listening to him detail the target you were assigned to kill, another life for you to take in however way you could. You were assigned to Task Force 141 where you met him.

Simon "Ghost" Riley.

A big burly man with a skull balaclava you'd heard about in stories on base, the same amber eyes that pierced through the souls of the lives he took now staring down at you.

"Apex then? You sure you live up to the title?" He questioned, remaining stoic as your melodic noises of amusement bounced off the walls and back to his ear drums.

For years, you two worked together, mission after mission after mission. Talks late at night that detailed the most personal of topics amongst the comedic banter you found yourselves engaging in whenever you were around each other. The deep bass of his chuckles that reverberate through the halls as you walked together only furthered your esteemed callsign, having being one of the few people who could make him laugh as much as he did when you were around.

Everyone noticed it, the fleeting glances, the rare, wordless softness that spoke volumes whenever your eyes met. You forgot your position for a moment, forgetting about your job, your duty, your mission, just for a second when in his presence. The noise faded, the static of your life now reduced to a small buzz in the back of your mind when his fingers would dance across of your cheek with a gentle brush of the rough pads of his fingers.

"lovie."

"I love you."

"I need you."

The quiet murmurs of love passing through the both of you as you held each other in the calmness of the night. He was everything you needed, and you were his endgame. He couldn't believe that there was someone out there so perfect for him, so like him in every way.

But.

The sentiment of twin flames can leave the nastiest burns, many that will last a lifetime. You both knew that, so when the barrel of your gun pointed at his forehead, the moon casting a shadow over your face as your eyes, cold and detached stared down into his, he wasn't mad. He wasn't angry, he didn't feel a tinge of betrayal, because he understood you.

"I'm sorry." You spoke, the flicker of softness behind your eyes adding to the heat he felt in his core. This was what you both were, killers who dedicated their lives to their job, who took lives just as quickly as they gave theirs to each other. The comfort of knowing he would've done it too was what made it easier, beautiful, even, in its own twisted way.

"I know." Your lover, your world, your target, and your mission, came crashing down in this final moment, the barrel heating up as his body relaxed for a final time, wrapped in the embrace of what you were and what you could have been.

You intended to write the feat his name brought in blood, but as you stared at the burning corpse in front of you in the dead of night, the flames of your duty and your dead lover dancing in front of you...

His ashes would do.

Thank you for reading!! I based this off of a story I've been thinking of writing so yeah. I appreciate all of your love and support!

@stunkbiggu