#look I’m sorry I have principles (unfortunately)

[bichobolitach]

Relating to the mini comic of Kyle and Sungchul...can you also make it a concept of Bobby and Seiji? (Again its rare ship). 😅🫣

Im afraid Seiji is what some would call “A real one”

Quiet kids gotta stick together folks

These are fun I missed fence feel free to send more

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (9) - The Arrangement

Chapter summary: Ava proposes an arrangement, and things get out of control with Astarion... once again.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Alcohol. Innuendo. Body worship. (almost) Fingering. Sexual tension.

Word count: 6k

Series masterlist . Ao3

Ava extended the palm of her hand across the table, expecting you to comply with her silent request.

But you weren’t so easily swindled, especially when too much of her story was beginning to rub you the wrong way.

As such, you feigned complying by placing your hand atop hers, whilst your other carefully unsheathed the dagger at your hip.

Her face held a honeyed smile that you didn’t return, and your watchful eyes followed her every move, 

But before her knife could come close to your skin, you got on your feet, sending the chair sliding across the floor before you made a lunge for her, plucking her from her seat with one hand and pressing her back against the cabinet behind, your dagger firmly held against the side of her neck.

She did try to swing the knife in her hand, but you immediately caught hold of her wrist and squeezed tight until she dropped it on the floor.

“Sharp reflexes,” she noted with a curt smile.

You held her in place with the weight of your body, the sharp edge of your blade ready to slice through her skin.

“You sound surprised.”

She smiled again. “It is uncommon for sorcerers to be so skillful with anything but a staff and fancy hand flourishes.”

“Not many have the opportunity to learn from a seasoned rogue.”

Astarion had taken a liking to honing your dexterity, even when constantly remarking you’d never rival his.

However, in this particular moment, it did come in handy and his teachings had paid off.

“Unfortunately for you,” Ava said, her smile dropping slightly. “You are not the only one with tricks up their sleeve.”

And before you could question her remark, you felt the cool sting of metal tapping against your neck, just above the faint bite marks from the night before.

For a moment, the grip on your dagger faltered, but you quickly regained composure, not easing the blade pressed against her skin.

“This is coated in a most agonising poison.”

You offered a devious smile. “What a coincidence – so is mine.”

“Astarion’s?”

“Touché.” 

A homebrew recipe that he had once shared with you.

Travelling together with Astarion had given you the opportunity to broaden your skill set and that covered knowing how to brew most basic poisons.

She did look far too amused for someone who you could easily incapacitate should she stray but a little.

“And here I thought we had made some progress.”

Her taunt made you snap at once. “How much of an idiot do you take me for?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Idiot?”

You pushed harder into her, causing the glass jars inside the cabinet to rattle. “Your story sounds a little too convenient. You were a monster hunter for decades, then had a sudden change of heart, and tracked down Astarion to aid him,” your words were venomous enough to match the poison coating your blade. “I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing someone could just abandon their principles all at once and even go as far as to kill their own kin.”

Her arm was gripping yours, but you didn’t flinch, your eyes boring into hers. “You don’t have to believe me. I wouldn’t either, to be frank. However, you shouldn't be passing judgement when it comes to others having changes of heart.”

You remained silent.

“You took a leap of faith with Astarion, did you not? You trusted him even after learning he could easily turn on you,” she went on, her voice now firm and low. “But he didn’t. He proved he could change, even when it goes against his very nature as a vampire spawn.”

Another wave of anger flared inside you.

How could she even compare this situation to that of Astarion’s? She was nothing like him. She didn’t know the first thing about the two of you. 

“You utter sweetened words and use my bond with him to make me sway,” you said in a low warning tone. “But I simply don’t like you. It’s not even about you wanting my blood – it’s how you so easily take and take from him and expect me to compactuate with it.”

Ava scoffed, trying to push you off of her but to no avail. “So is that why you’re here? To stake your claim?”

" Claim? Astarion is his own person.”

She chuckled darkly. “Yet here you are, speaking on his behalf. Enlighten me on how that works.”

Her words tore through your flesh more effectively than the knife she held to your neck ever could.

You immediately let go of her as if suddenly burned by her touch and took a few steps back, falling silent.

Was that the impression you gave her? That you were taking away his free will on this matter? Would he think the same if he knew how close you had been to sinking your dagger into her?

Shame.

Guilt.

Your chest felt impossibly heavy from the weight of your doubts, and you dropped your arm at your side at once.

Ava adjusted her dress as she straightened up, but there was no triumphant smile on her face. “I am not the enemy. You don’t have to trust me – Hells, you don’t have to like me – but he does to an extent, and I already said that I do not take a single drop of his blood without his full consent, as I won’t take yours.”

It was starting to overwhelm you just how hard Ava was to decode. You wanted to trust her word and to believe that helping her with your own blood could be helpful to Astarion in the long run, especially if there were people out there who wanted to hurt both of you.

But you just couldn’t bring yourself to fully digest her reasoning without asking the proper questions and double checking.

You were once told: “Never swallow before chewing.”

“Why did you kill your group, then? Why not just leave?”

Ava’s pleasant features turned sour as she returned to her seat. “There are no fiercest shackles than those of the mind. I know it. Astarion knows it,” she said nonchalantly, placing her knife on the table. “Not that I expect you to resonate with this as I’m sure you’ve lived a sheltered life.”

You’re wrong…

On so many levels.

But you weren’t going to give her leverage on your past.

Not even Astarion was aware of the intricate details of your upbringing.

“Sorcerers are born with an innate talent for magic wielding,” she went on, her eyes fixed on you. “I wouldn’t be surprised if your family in Baldur’s Gate ranked up high with the rest of the nobles.”

You narrowed your eyes, lips still pressed shut.

It was unfair that she was drawing all these assumptions in regards to you when they couldn’t be further from the truth.

There had never been privilege. 

The magic coursing through your body was what made you nearly lose it all once…

But silence was your best weapon now.

“Not everyone has that privilege – I know I didn’t. I was forced to do the bidding of others, because that was all I knew growing up until Astarion’s case put things into perspective. Sure, I did expand my knowledge on Alchemy here and there, but I was never allowed to openly practice it,” there was a faint hint of sorrow in her voice that nearly made you feel sorry for her. Nearly. “So long as they lived, I would never be truly free as they would make sure I’d painfully regret leaving them. But I was done hunting those who could use a second chance, which was exactly what you offered Astarion.”

Her answer absolutely floored you. 

Your mind wanted her explanation to not make any sense.

You wanted a reason to hate her.

A reason to tear her bond with Astarion to smithereens.

Yet here she was, giving you seemingly truthful justifications to her deeds, which further troubled your heart and mind and completely defied your anger.

Eventually, you slid your dagger back in its holster with a long sigh. “Who’s after us?”

She crossed her legs. “I have my suspicions, but I need more time.

As much as you wanted to take her vague answer at face value, your common sense spoke louder this time.

“How can I be sure you’re not just feeding me some fable to cover up your own tracks?”

She chuckled almost in disbelief. “You truly are a tough one to crack, no doubt. I have a solid alibi, if that is what you’re requesting.”

“Go on.”

She paused briefly as if pondering her next words. “I was with a patriar.”

Hold on…

“Who?” you immediately shot back.

“Someone from the Parliament of Peers.”

Now, this piqued your interest. “ Who?”

“Rob Sorel.”

The wealthy baldurian merchant with an uncanny reputation for being ruthless when his interests were involved? The man whose wealth could easily overshadow that of a duke?

That seemed like a stretch.

A very unsettling stretch. 

You crossed your arms. “And what were you doing with such an influential patriar, especially so late at night?”

Ava gave you a long and hard look, lips tugged upwards, unveiling her amusement. 

Oh.

Oh.

“His influence reaches beyond Baldur’s Gate and I am able to gain exclusive access to wares that aid my research.”

You felt tempted to ask what the trade off was, but judging from the way her face twisted deviously, you could tell it probably revolved around carnal pleasure, which you refused to know the sordid details of.“Feel free to have Wyll cross-check this information as I’m sure Rob has mentioned my name.”

This nearly sent off alarm bells ringing in your head. “Wyll had never heard your name before I told him.”

She chuckled again, drumming her nails on the wooden surface of the table. “Oh, but he has . Ava is short for Avalar. I have had long dealings with Rob and he will uphold my alibi. Feel free to ask.”

Against your better judgement, you began to feel less… wary of her.

Not that you were able to fully let go of your gut feeling, but every answer was delivered with almost no hesitancy on her part and, truth be told, you would quickly be able to catch her if this involvement with a patriar was nothing but a desperate lie.

A sudden knock on the door made you jolt in place.

It was Wyll. “We ought to get going. Are you done?”

Your eyes remained fixed on her. “Yes. We're just going over some details.”

He didn't reply again and you saw Ava raise her eyebrows. “Details?”

You ignored her remark. “Will you try to track whoever is after us, then?”

“I will.”

You swallowed. “What's the price?”

She rose to her feet and took slow yet sure steps towards you until she was close enough for you to fully see the olive green colour of her eyes.

“Let's just say our interests are temporarily aligned.”

Bullshit.

“You wanted my blood.”

“I want your blood, yes. But I will settle with running a few more experiments after he's fed on you, if you accept this condition, that is.”

As far as you were concerned, you would rather she stopped meddling with anyone's blood, but Astarion seemed so confident in her promises…

Maybe there was a chance of success… maybe she could truly help with their hunger.

Maybe.

“Only after you tell Astarion about this discovery of yours in regards to his blood mixing with mine,” you said firmly. “Or I will.”

She nodded, offering a sweet smile.

“Don't think of this as payment, though. A mere transaction. An arrangement, if you will.”

You were starting to dread that term as of late. It was as if everything revolved around transactions and that it was the only way people knew how to properly function and establish relationships with others.

Slowly, you nodded and, for the second time that night, Ava extended her hand to you, only this time you took it in yours. 

A mysterious smile settled on her lips until you pulled her closer to you, lowering your voice, “I still don’t trust you.”

“I’d be disappointed if you did.”

You glared intensely into her eyes, hardening your face. “Any small step in the wrong direction, and you’ll hear from me.”

She nodded. “Deal.”

Then you gave her a firm shake before letting go and exiting her room without even looking back, as you were in dire need to distance yourself from the overwhelming events of tonight.

Wyll hurried to your side, glaring at you inquisitively. “So? What did you find out? Is she to be trusted?”

“Do you know a woman who goes by Avalar?”

He tapped his chin pensively for a moment. “Avalar? That name does sound familiar. Wait – she is Avalar? The merchant?”

You nodded as you made your way down the staircase, feeling the uncomfortable and draining presence of the mage slayer right behind you.

“She is connected to Rob Sorel, right?”

He hesitated at first, grabbing your arm and bringing you to an abrupt halt as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Lord Sorel isn’t one to trifle with idly. If she is indeed who she claims to be, then we must keep an eye on her.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine, already feeling that you might have given her the benefit of the doubt too quickly.

Wyll turned to one of the Fists by his side and gave him a silent command to which the man nodded and exited the tavern.

“She said she was with him on the night we were caught, and that Sorel will vouch for her.”

The commotion around the two of you from the rowdy and very much intoxicated crowd made it nearly impossible to hold a proper conversation.

“I will dig around,” he said with a raise of his voice, guiding you to the door.

But you yanked free from him, which earned a wary look from the other Fist.

“I need a drink. Please.”

The Fist spoke before he could, “My Lord, I don’t think we should linger any longer.”

You rolled your eyes and promptly made your way to the counter, squeezing past a few smelly individuals who grumbled in 

Bork appeared rather quickly in front of you, and you blinked twice.

“What can I get you, missy? ”

Wyll was by your side at lightning speed. “Are you sure you want to have a drink? Now?”

You never felt a particular interest in indulging in alcoholic beverages, but you craved it now more than ever.

“A pint, please.”

Bork’s lips parted into a devious smile and you tapped your fingers impatiently as he shifted to work on your request.

“You are not one to hold your liquor, if I remember correctly, my friend,” Wyll noted, already placing one gold piece on the counter. “Mayhap you ought to take a sip or two before we leave.”

He was absolutely correct, but you also needed a quick way to numb your restless mind. 

At worst you’d get a bit too intoxicated.

At best, you’d find a way to, hopefully, sleep through what was left of this night.

As Bork set the mug in front of you and eagerly collected his payment, you grabbed it with both hands and proceeded to down the sweet liquid.

In one go.

Wyll’s hand tried to ease your eagerness, but you slapped it away with a chuckle. 

“Why do I have the feeling I will have to carry you home after this?”

By the time you were through with the ale, you realised you had made a severe mistake.

If Wyll had not been there to steady your unbalanced feet, you would have certainly tripped on the nearby stool.

Fuck…

By the time you made it back home, it was more than evident you should not have drunk all of it.

But it seemed that your brain was starting to morph a sense of guilt into finding anything within your grasp to be rather hilarious.

Even when you almost bumped into the mage slayer stationed outside your house.

You gave them a wide grin and a pat on the shoulder as if he couldn’t easily split you in half.

Wyll pushed the  door open and guided you inside with both hands gripping your shoulders for added support.

“Easy now. Mind the step.”

You completely disregarded his warning, which led to you almost losing balance if not for his strong arm that looped around yours, pulling you back.

You giggled.

He was truly a sweetheart.

Inside, you were met with the dim flickering of a few candles that provided enough brightness to spot the love of your life.

Wait.

Love of your life?

Scratch that. What a ridiculous overstatement. 

“What in the sweet Hells took you so long?” Astarion said with a scowl, rising from his chair and heading straight towards you like an arrow.

You giggled again, throwing your arms in the air. “You stayed up and waited for me!”

Astarion halted abruptly in front of you, hands on both hips. “I don’t sleep as I’m sure you’re aware. What is wrong with you?”

Wyll patted your back reassuringly. “She…drank a pint, and – well… this is the result.”

Suddenly, there were two Astarions standing next to each other and you yelped in shock, flinching back. 

“Why are there two of you?” you asked, pointing at them.

Both of them cocked an elegant eyebrow. “Two of what?”

Odd.

They moved and spoke in perfect unison. 

If one Astarion was already such a headache at times, you couldn’t even begin to fathom what two Astarions would be capable of. 

Driven by curiosity, you tried to reach out to one of them with your hand, but grasped nothing but air as your vision corrected itself and only one Astarion was left.

Really odd.

But entertaining.

He quickly gripped your gesticulating arm by the wrist. “Will you stop it? You’ll hurt yourself.”

The sudden proximity made your stomach turn dangerously, but you were far too amused to care. “ You’ll hurt yourself ,” you mimicked poorly, earning another scowl.

“I let you out of my sight for a few hours and this is the result,” he said with a sigh, then turning to Wyll. “Why would you let her drink a whole pint?”

Wyll rubbed the back of his neck. “She insisted, and I figured she could use the distraction.”

“What happened with Ava?” Astarion pressed.

Oh, Gods… not her again. “Will everyone please stop talking about her? Gods!”

He then pulled you closer to him, not letting go of your wrist, but easing his grip.

His beautiful eyes met yours and you felt yourself swoon, feeling the image of Ava dissipating into thin air.

Gods… he was the most beautiful man to ever grace this earth, no doubt.

Books should be written on his beauty and songs should be sung in his honour.

You felt yourself smile widely at him, feeling a rush of heat flood your face.

You’re so handsome…

His brows immediately furrowed.

Oh.

Shit.

You had said that aloud.

But you stood by it.

Astarion was so very handsome.

The only man who could make you yearn for him and have your heart and soul enamoured by all of him.

Then his face gradually softened. "Well, good thing there are no newshounds nearby. Can you imagine the headlines in tomorrow’s paper about the hero of Baldur’s Gate making a fool of themselves?”

You felt so giddy and drunk in his beauty that you just nodded at every word that spilled from those full lips that you wish you could just–

Whatever you say, handsome…

“Where’s Shadowheart?” you heard Wyll ask.

Astarion shrugged. “No one else is here, and it’s not as if I’m their mother.”

He was so snarky and it just made you almost melt under his touch.

“I can stay if need be.”

You rapidly turned to face Wyll, and immediately felt dizzy as Astarion steadied you. 

“Please stay! We can have a party!” you suggested with a dramatic pout.

Behind you, Astarion scoffed. “I’m quite sure dear Wyll is busy with his Duke duties, darling.”

Wyll chuckled. “I always make time for my friends.”

“Well, I can take it from here,” he retorted and you could spot a hint of disdain in his voice.

So attractive…

Astarion then lifted your arm and wiggled your wrist. “Say goodbye to Wyll, sweetheart.”

You giggled dramatically again. “Goodbye Wyll!”

He took a step forward and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back tomorrow once I have an update on what we discussed.”

Astarion pulled you away from him at once with a gasp. “Keeping secrets from me? Oh, you two lovebirds.”

Hold on!

No! You weren’t that close to Wyll.

As you were about to protest, Wyll spoke, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous, Astarion.”

“What is there to be jealous of, I wonder?”

You nodded vehemently, finding it utterly amusing how he sounded so territorial all of a sudden.

Adorable man.

Wyll gave a lighthearted chuckle before turning to leave. “Well, I’m sure I can think of a few reasons.”

You laughed way too loudly at his remark, which caused Astarion to click his tongue in annoyance.

Adorable.

The door closed shut behind him, and Astarion immediately spun you on your feet to fully face them.

“What were you thinking? Drinking a pint?”

You couldn’t care less about what he had to say in this moment, and simply glared at his face, your hazy mind reminding you just how much you adored him.

And before you could restrain yourself, the words tumbled from your mouth. “I… I really like you.”

Idiot.

A deafening silence settled around you, and you began to feel an increasing wave of nausea as he merely glared at you.

Then you giggled, trying to disperse the awkwardness as fast as possible.

He didn’t laugh with you, tugging at your hand instead. “I think it’s time to get some sleep, darling.”

Too bad you were clearly incapable of walking in a straight line, which earned his attention. Without a warning, you felt your balance shift rapidly as he scooped you in his arms, effortlessly carrying you along the dim corridor.

“Put me down! Astarion!”

Instinctively, you looped your arms around his neck for support, but still trying to wriggle out of his fierce hold.

“I don’t need to be carried… please put me down,” you whined. “I - I will curse you!”

An amused smile tugged at his lips. “How very ferocious of you. I suppose we should have gotten you drunk more often back then. I’m sure our foes would have fled in horror at the sight of you.”

You slumped into him with a pout. “Mean.”

He pushed the door to your room open with a nudge from his shoulder, before easing you back on your two feet again.

The room was plunged in darkness and you felt him shift away from you, setting alight a single candle next to your bed, and you blinked a few times to adjust to the clarity.

You were now entering the less amusing stage of your insobriety and you could feel yourself scowl at him, clumsily crossing your arms.

“I should have hexed you.”

“Darling, the only thing you’ll be hexing in that state is a doorknob.”

You snorted at his playful jab. “I was perfectly capable of walking!”

“Into a wall? Yes, indeed.”

He then moved back to your side, helping you out of your cloak and quickly wrapping a blanket around you.

The simple gesture was enough to melt your defiant demeanour at once.

The two of you stood there in silence, eyes locked and you found yourself wishing he’d kiss you, but you knew he never would.

Astarion valued consent above all else, and he would not cross any lines. Each time you had gotten ahead of yourself in terms of sobriety, he always reigned you in.

And that was just one of the many things you adored about him.

How safe he made you feel and how you knew he’d never take advantage of your vulnerability. 

“You need to properly rest,” he urged, ensuring the thick fabric around you was tucked properly in place.

Just as you were about to head to bed, you felt the room tilt to the left and you yelped, clutching onto him for support.

“I’m going to fall!” 

The walls around you began to swirl and sway and your own legs wobbled.

A genuine laughter rumbled across his chest as he patted your back. “You silly little goose. Your warped mind is playing tricks on you.”

That term of endearment caught you slightly off guard and your heart fluttered.

Gods…

Why was he so easy to love?

Or was this the alcohol talking? Were you truly so far gone, that the alcohol was merely making it easier to surface your feelings?

Either way, you wouldn’t voice them, and allowed him to guide you to your bed, helping you to slip under the bedsheets. 

It felt rather good being taken care of this way. 

Maybe he didn’t think of this as anything but a nuisance, but you were grateful, nonetheless. 

“Thank you…” you mumbled in a whisper, gripping his hand.

The ceiling was now begging to spin dangerously fast and you had to close your eyes to help with the overwhelming sensory overload. 

He didn’t reply back, but you felt him tugging his hand away from your grasp.

A sudden shiver of panic coursed through your body. “Please stay? You always leave…”

Please…

He relaxed his cool hand against yours.

Slowly, you peeled back an eyelid only to see him easing onto the spot next to you over the covers.

You turned on your side to glare at him and he mimicked you, meeting your eyes in silence.

“How do you feel?”

In love.

“Well…”

He nodded and you smiled warmly at him, probably looking rather silly, but too mesmerised by his face to even look away.

“May I touch you?” you asked hesitantly.

He arched his brow, but nodded.

You lifted your hand and with a single finger, you began to slowly trace the bridge of his nose, admiring how he didn’t just look perfect…

He felt perfect…

“You’re so beautiful…” you sighed, feeling the slight bump of his nose as you trailed down to his lips. “So… so beautiful.”

He chuckled deviously. “I’m all for praise, darling… do go on.”

And you wanted to, but you were beginning to feel lightheaded, and your hand dropped from his face and your eyes dropped close.

“Or not…” you heard him say.

His voice seemed so distant now as drowsiness enveloped your senses. A part of you wished you could trace all of his face with the pad of your finger, worshipping every inch of him.

“Please, don’t leave…” you found yourself repeating.

He clicked his tongue. “I will if you vomit on me.”

You giggled, managing to shift closer to his body and rest your head on his still chest. “Deal, handsome…”

Your heated body welcomed his coldness, and it didn’t take long for your busy mind to progressively quiet down as you drifted off into a pleasant sleep.

It was the soft click of a door being shut that roused you from your sleep. With eyes still closed, you flipped onto your back with a pained groan as your body was hit with the aftermath of last night.

“Rise and shine,” Astarion’s honeyed voice filled the room.

You stretched yourself with a yawn, feeling your mouth dry as sawdust and an overwhelming thirst that nearly made you sob.

“I’m never drinking again…” you whined pitifully. 

The mattress dipped slightly next to you. “Well, how do you feel today?”

“Like death…”

“Your breath definitely reeks of it,” he said, voice dripping with disapproval. “I drew you a bath, as I anticipated you’d need one.”

At this, your eyes flew open. “Is this your chivalrous way of telling me I stink?” you grumbled, trying to make sense of your surroundings. 

The curtains were no longer drawn and the faint light bleeding from the top and bottom was enough to tell you the sun had already risen. 

He took your hand in his, tugging gently until you were sitting in front of him with your legs crossed. “Darling, you’re free to bask in that dreadful stench for all I care.”

You shot him a serious glare before bursting into laughter. “Good point. I need to get off these clothes…”

Astarion helped you on your feet and you carefully paced across the wooden floor and into the washroom.

A pleasant smell hit you as you stepped inside, with him following closely behind.

“I borrowed a few bath salts from Gale,” he informed, pointing to the round tub in the middle of the room, almost filled to the brim with steamy water. 

You glared at him in disbelief. “Borrowed as in… stolen?”

He shrugged.

You knew him too well.

“He does have a decent selection, yet manages to always carry the most interesting smells around,” he said, bringing you over to the large basin under a round mirror. “I minced peppermint and it should help with your breath,” he added, handing you a glass of water.

You did as he advised and took a gulp, rinsing your mouth eagerly before spitting the content onto the basin.

“So… are you going to tell me how the conversation with Ava went?”

Wiping your lips clean with a rag, you gave him a look.

“It could have gone worse, I suppose.”

“Charming,” he said. “Worse as in ‘I almost killed her’ or ‘She made me want to pluck my eyes out’?”

“All of the above, maybe,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

To be fair, after hearing her reasoning, she didn’t come across as that bad. But you couldn’t help but to still feel wary of her intentions in the long run.

Astarion was studying your face intensely as you emptied the glass of water to quench your thirst, the minty aftertaste doing wonders to your throat.

“Anything in particular I should know about?”

Besides her wanting to take my blood? Nothing at all, you thought grimly.

You merely shook your head.

“I’ll be waiting outside, then.”

Right.

Bath time.

You took a quick look in the mirror and nearly groaned out loud from the sight of your weary face.

Just as you were trying to strip the shirt you had on, you huffed in annoyance, which earned his attention before he slipped out of the washroom.

“You need help.”

You tried to pull the sleeve, but your body ached too much to comply. “I need help.”

Astarion slowly crossed the room again, and swiftly helped you out of your shirt.

You hissed as his cold knuckles brushed against your bare stomach. “Cold, cold…” you said, teeth jittering.

Being naked in front o fhim had long lost some of its inherent sexual meaning. It used to make you feel too exposed and only when the two of you were about to indulge in one another.

Now, it felt like something casual.

His stare didn’t linger on your breasts for too long or on your now hardening nipples.

“I apologise,” he said with a smile. “Let’s get you out of these next.”

Skilled fingers worked on the front of your trousers, undoing them slowly before carefully dropping on one knee and pulling them down along your thighs.

You had to look away to hide the rush of heat that had settled on your face.

Now that felt too intimate…

He tugged at your underwear next and shiveres began to prickle along your body.

You suddenly felt too exposed. 

Astarion had seen you this bare since you last slept together before reaching Moonrise Towers.

And this new predicament had your heart strumming hard in your chest.

You slipped out of your trousers and looked down to meet his crimson eyes. “What?”

“May I kiss you?”

You swallowed. Hard. “Where?”

He leaned in to press his cold lips to the dip of your hip, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away and rising to his full height again.

Gods…

“Do you need my help getting inside?” he asked and you could see it .

You could see the lust in his eyes.

You could hear the faint innuendo in his words.

And you could feel the familiar throb between your legs increasing.

“Yes…”

He promptly gripped your hand and you lifted each leg to dip into the nicely heated water, its surface covered in frothy suds. 

Slowly, you lowered yourself into a sitting position before leaning back.

Astarion placed a folded towel under your neck, so you could easily relax against the wooden tub as you sank below the waterline.  

“May I wash you?” he asked, settling himself on his knees behind you.

You immediately nodded, gripping the edges and trying your best to ignore the swell in between your folds.

It was almost embarrassing how easily he could turn you on with mostly his words and intonation. 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you jolted briefly when you felt a soft sponge being dragged from your neck and down your breasts.

A sigh parted your lips and you arched your back instinctively, just enough to raise your nipples above the waterline as he grazed each of them in circular motions.

You instantly clenched around nothing, knowing fully well that it would have driven him insane had his cock been buried inside you.

A second moan was heard when he started planting soft kisses along your jaw while his hand kept on gliding the sponge down your abdomen.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered in between kisses.

Your legs parted as you welcomed his ministrations. 

With his other hand he gripped your jaw and applied enough pressure until the back of your head hit his chest, his thumb caressingly you lovingly.

A strained whimper erupted from you when the sponge reached your folds, deliciously caressing the growing swell in between.

Your hips rolled a few times to increase the friction and you begged the Gods above to have him use his fingers instead…

“Please… Astarion…”

He planted a lingering kiss on your lips, pressing the sponge against you so you could grind desperately on it.

“Does it feel good, darling?”

“Use your fingers… please…” you begged against his lips, squeezing your legs together to trap his hand as you gripped the edges of the tub for support.

He chuckled darkly, dropping the sponge and he had to cover your mouth with his other hand to muffle a loud moan as he slid one finger along your folds.

“Do you remember how many you could take?”

Your eyes rolled shut as lust clouded your senses, hips rolling at a faster pace.

All you remembered was struggling to fit his cock inside at first…

The pad of his finger teased your swell a few times before he moved to place it at your entrance.

“Answer me.”

You could cry from the despair alone as he refused to slide a single one inside.

“I - I… two? Astarion… please… ”

He chuckled teasingly in response, and you 

The door to the washroom burst open, causing him to detach from you at once.

Shadowheart.

You let out a yelp, sinking until you were neck-deep in water.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Astarion’s words were dripping with poison.

“Even heard of not greeting people with... that?”

From this position you were almost at eye-level with his lower half, giving you a privileged view of his rather generous bulge, strained against his own trousers.

You felt heat flare in your cheeks as you remembered just how easily he would drip precum for you.

She hurriedly crossed the room and threw a robe at you. “Dress up. Quickly .”

Lust quickly turned into panic from the way Shadowheart glared worriedly at you.

“What happened?”

“Gale is leaving,” she said. “We just received word from Waterdeep that his contact has been killed.”

TBC

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Five Times Sirius Black Fucked James Potter and One Time He Didn't

(in a slytherin!sirius au...part 3/5. read parts one, and two here)

-

James could hear his mother's voice in his head telling him to stop fidgeting as he continued to adjust the shoulders of his new Healer’s robes. Allegedly, this was how they were supposed to fit, the typical loose sleeves of other robes an occupational hazard. Apparently. As he waited in front of the double doors past the reception of St. Mungos, he was already counting the days until he was no longer a trainee and respected enough to show up to St. Mungo’s in robes far more comfortable.

But as it was, today was a special occasion at St. Mungo’s, the entire hospital buzzing around him, in preparation for the arrival of a donor--investor?--someone who wanted to sign over too much money St. Mungo’s to support the development of a children's ward. Most of the trainees were given the sage orders to stay out of the way and not do anything stupid. One of James’s colleagues was actually given the day off in lieu of coming it at all, to avoid any major catastrophes, everyone eager and anxious to impress. 

Except James.

Not you, Potter. People like you. You have that kind of face that people like. And James was given two orders from his supervisor in preparation for greeting the donor at the entrance of the hospital: 1) look presentable and 2) be charming. 

Both of which would’ve been a lot easier to do if he hadn’t felt like he was crammed into his robes like stuffed sausage, and if the mysterious donor wasn’t already ten minutes late. Nearly fifteen. He sighed, glancing up at the clock on the wall for the hundredth time.

“Did I miss them, Grace?” he asked the receptionist witch, leaving his position behind the desk to stand in front of it.

“Who, Mr. Potter?”

“I’m not exactly sure, I wasn’t given specifics,” he said, “Only to be here at 10 am sharp to greet some…old, rich, prat, and they are the ones who are late.”

“I’m not--”

“And why wouldn’t they be? It makes perfect sense. They can just buy back the time they lost, and surely everyone else has nothing better to do than wait for them.”

“Sir--”

“I’m sorry, I know, this isn’t your fault,” James sighed, “It’s just the principle of it all. I understand they’re giving us money, doing us a favor even. All that gold in a vault, and they couldn’t buy themselves a watch?” 

“James--” she stressed, dropping formalities to give him a look with wide eyes and a polite smile.

“Sorry, you’re just trying to work. I’ll keep my mouth shut, don’t worry,” he teased, turning back around to resume his waiting for the selfish, rude, prick, he was supposed to be meeting, but his pasted-on smile quickly faded from his face. “No.” he whispered under his breath, so soft James barely registered he had spoken at all. 

The years had been kind to Sirius Black. 

Too kind. Too. Kind.

Dark curls skimming his shoulders now, and skin more golden than James remembered it being five years ago, like he had just finished a holiday. Well-fitted grey suit and a black tie, expensive robes draped over his shoulders with casual elegance. The same dark eyelashes. The same cocky smirk. The same burning in his finger tips, confident voice suddenly caught in his throat at the sight of Sirius.

Nearly twenty-five, and James felt all of seventeen again. Or nineteen.

“By all means, please continue. I am eager to hear what was coming next after old, rich, prat,” Sirius said, counting off the descriptors on his fingertips, “Unfortunately, only two of those things are correct.”

“So you admit you’re a prat,” James said instantly, unable to stop himself.

“I was admitting to being old,” Sirius responded, rolling up the sleeve of his robes to reveal a gold watch with a handsome teal face. “As you can see, I do own a watch, and I am perfectly on time, early even. My correspondence indicated I would arrive at half-ten.”

James felt insane staring at Sirius, starched Healer robes becoming hotter and more stifling by the minute, “Your correspondence said ten.”

“Did it?”

“I--” James didn’t have a rebuttal. He did not see the letter, he hadn’t even known who this investor was going to be and was merely following instructors from Healer Bones. For all James knew, he was sent to stand out at reception a half-hour early just in case. For all James knew, no one was expected until noon, and he was just supposed to say “yes!”. 

“No matter. What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

“Sirius Black,” Sirius said, grey eyes twinkling with unreleased laughter as he put on a show for the receptionist, extending his hand to James as if they had never met. Meanwhile, Grace had made herself quite busy with paperwork, keeping a smile on her face, cheeks tinted pink.

“James Potter.” James extended his hand to meet Sirius’s, shaking it briefly. Black didn’t break eye contact, their warm palms meshing together. “Welcome to St. Mungo’s, we are so…honored to have you,” he managed. If Sirius was going to put on a show, so was James. 

“Are you a Healer here?”

He pulled his hands away from Sirius’s, carefully placing both behind his back, “Trainnee, and given the responsibility of greeting you. If you can follow me, Mr. Black, Healer Bones, and Healer Fletscher are waiting for you, and will be thrilled to speak with you further.”

“Oh, but we were just getting to know each other.”

“What a shame,” James replied, with a fake smile, and watched as Sirius rolled his eyes in response now that they were further away from reception, walking through the double doors together. 

It was primal.

But James could smell him. Feel him as they walked in pace, shoulders brushing against one another, perhaps intentionally. Every inch of James was screaming, and he barely contained his sigh of relief once he saw the faces of his supervisors, rushing to greet Sirius and make a good impression.

“Mr. Black, we are so pleased you could make time for us today,” Healer Bones said, presenting her hand to Sirius. James had to stifle his own eye-roll as Healer Bones’s cheeks even flushed as Sirius began speaking. Because why wouldn’t they?

The charm.

The smile.

James knew. Of course, James knew. Even after five years, of no contact-- not a letter, not a run-in on the streets of Diagon Alley, nothing-- James knew how disarming Sirius Black could be without saying a single word. 

James had made a vow, though, at the front of an aisle, his family and friends gathered around him, holding hands with a beautiful, kind, caring, woman, that the night before his wedding was the last time. And it was. 

A marriage.

A war.

A child, who was now almost five years old. 

James kept his vow, staying clear of Sirius, no matter how many times a tiny thought crept into the back of his mind, wondering where he was, how he was, what he was doing, who he spent his time with, every question under the sun. And now Sirius was here, wiggling his way into his supervisors’s minds the way he had done with James. 

Good luck getting him to leave.

Healer Bones turned into puddy in Sirius’s palm, Healer Fletscher seemed to be standing up straighter, gesturing proudly and broadly to the conference room, talking in a voice much louder and lower than he usually did. Did James look the same when he began to unravel around Sirius? 

Absolutely foolish?

“I hope you’ll forgive my lateness, I was merely engrossed in conversation with Mr. Potter here, and completely lost track of the time,” Sirius’s voice cut into James’s thoughts.

So he was late. Bloody prick.

“No trouble at all. I am glad to hear Mr. Potter was a pleasure. He is one of our finest trainees, has a bright future ahead of him,” Healer Fletscher said. 

“Is that so?” Sirius asked, tilting his head and looking at James. “Well, then I’d love to take this opportunity and have Mr. Potter give me a tour of the hospital. Hear more about this bright future and, of course, the future of our collaboration together.” 

“I really don’t think that's necessary,” James said quickly, “Healer Bones, didn’t you say you wanted me--” but James stopped short, noticing the expression on his supervisor’s face that clearly indicated shut up, if he wants a tour, you’re giving him the tour.

“Nothing that can’t wait until this afternoon, if you don’t mind, Potter,” she said, unblinking. 

James smiled, thinking he would rather die than be left alone with Sirius Black, “Of course.”

If Sirius heard the nearly pathetic, whispered whine James made in the back of his throat, sounding an awful lot like his toddler when he didn’t get his way as he walked back down the hallway to begin the tour, he didn’t say anything.

Just smirked.

Dragon hide boots clicking on the tile floor as they made it past the double doors once more.

“You know who I am, you twat.” James remarked, as soon as they were out of earshot and heading into the magical elevators to the second floor. All facades dropped.

“Sure, I do, Jason.”

“You’ve been to the hospital before, you don’t need a bloody tour,”  

“Maybe,” he mused.

“And I knew you were late. Fifteen minutes! You’re such a bloody arsehole.”

“Now, that’s no way to speak to someone who is about to generously donate hundreds of galleons to this hospital.”

“What are you doing here anyway? Sudden change of heart and surge of kindness? Quarter-life crisis? Finally got bored of tucking yourself in with your piles of money and thought you’d take pity on some sick kids? Good publicity? Need to clear the Black name? Or did you just come here to see me?”

“Your ego is showing, Potter. Careful, someone might notice.”

“You’re one to talk. People have jobs to do, you know. This is a hospital, with sick people. Who need us. We can’t just drop everything to cater to you--And this is the Magical Maladies and Injuries Wing, it has approximately 200 beds, and is usually our most impacted unit.” James said, half-heartedly gesturing to the wing as a small group of Healers walked by them, nodding to Sirius, “--and your empty promise to build a new bloody ward or cure Dragon Pox, or whatever else you told them you would do. It’s rude, and it’s cruel, and--”

“Are you going to let me speak?”

“Not if I can help it,” James said quickly, and louder than he intended. 

It was a strategy and the best of options James could think up in such a short time. The quickest tour known to man, and stop Sirius from talking to him. Because that was the problem.

He had been just fine. With his wife, and his kid, and his home in Godrics Hollow, and his blossoming career.

He was fine.

Sirius was the problem, and they were both better off.

Except.

“Okay, fine, this one time, you can talk because I actually do want to know the answer of how you got here, but after that…”

Sirius laughed softly, slowing down the pace of his steps, and the sense of urgency James had to get this done as soon as possible. “My parents have both passed, my Uncle is deceased, which means the Black vault finally belongs entirely to me, and I get to choose what to do with it,” he said, “I’m looking for some worthwhile investments, and this seemed like a good place to start.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Sirius asked back, shrugging, “As you might say, I can tuck myself in with my bags of gold and donate to a hospital that is in need at the same time. There’s more than enough to go around.”

“...Galleons?”

“Yes,” Sirius stated simply, “Merlin knows I don’t need all of it.”

“Well, now I feel like the arsehole.”

“Good.”

“I take it back.”

Sirius grinned, as they stepped into the elevator to the third floor, and his heart turned upside down in his chest. It was just a smile.

This was just a tour.

You have a life. You have a wife. 

“You really didn’t know I worked here?” James asked cautiously, all too aware of how stupid he sounded. 

For Merlin’s Sake.

“No,” Sirius said, “That was a pleasant surprise.”

“Oh.” pleasant. 

“Why did you decide to become a Healer?”

James swallowed, taken aback at the question, and looked down at the floor, running a hand through his hair, “I was forced to go into hiding…and it’s a helpless feeling to know people are out there fighting and you’re trapped inside, and so many people were injured and killed…I just told myself if I got out alive, I’d try to save more lives in the future to make up for it.”

“How noble.”

“I was being sincere.”

“So was I,” Sirius stopping their walk in the middle of the hallway, just outside a group of patient rooms. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you're okay.”

“Not worth anything,” James replied briskly, tugging at the stiff collar of his robes, and pulling down the sleeves. 

“Stop pulling. They look good on you.”

“On the right, you’ll see a wing dedicated in the name of Griselda S. Harrington, she was a Healer who--” James began loudly. 

“It’s just you and me now, Potter.”

“Exactly.”

“How’s your wife?” he quipped.

“Exactly,”  James repeated and stopped in his tracks at the end of the hallway near the annex. “Can we just…can I just give you a tour? Can I just fulfill this obligation I have to appease the hospital, and you can give us your money, and we can go back to…”

“Pretending the other doesn’t exist?” Sirius finished, with a raise of his eyebrow. James closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Was that what he was doing? “That was…nice, wasn’t it?” 

He felt Sirius’s hand on the side of his face and opened his eyes again. Sirius’s robe sleeve was hanging down his arm, and just beneath the cuff of his shirt sleeve, at this angle, James could make out the beginnings of a tattoo. That was new. 

What else is new?

“I don’t need nice,” Sirius said, but James grabbed Sirius’s wrist, taking his hand off his face and pushing it down. “Hm. I guess I didn’t realize you did. Guess somethings change, Potter…”

Forgive me.

“Let’s take the stairs this time around,” James offered, inclining his head to the door they were closer to, rather than making their way back toward the elevators.

“I can’t care, Potter.” 

Forgive me, please.

James pulled Sirius’s arm roughly through the doors before shoving him against the wall of the stairwell. It was satisfying to see grey eyes grow wide with surprise; to hear Sirius’s breathing hitch just slightly. James slotted one of his legs between Sirius’s, grinding his hips into Sirius’s and biting at his ear. 

“P-Potter,” Sirius gasped, head inclining backward onto the wall. Five years later, and maybe this time James could finally have the upper hand. 

James’s hand moved slowly down Sirius’s chest, expensive dress shirt beneath his fingers, until he reached the waistband of his trousers secured with a dragonhide belt. Gold buckle. 

He pulled the it upward, unhooking it, the metal prong clanging against the frame of the buckle.

“Potter,” Sirius said again lowly, head still against the wall, chest rising and falling rapidly. One of his hands on James’s forearm. 

“Hm?

“This is--” James undid the fly of Sirius’s trousers. How easy they fell to the ground, sitting crumpled around Sirius’s ankles, undoubtedly expensive material simply ruined, collecting Merlin knows what else from the stairwell floor. Bare thighs covered in dark, dark hair.

“You were saying, pretty boy?” James asked, before pressing his hand firmly against the visible bulge in Sirius’s briefs. “About not needing nice? You think I need nice?”

“I don’t, I didn’t--” Sirius breathed, but couldn’t manage the rest, James’s mouth cutting off his words. Tongue darting deep into Sirius’s mouth with such force, he felt Sirius’s grip tighten around James’s arm. 

This was better.

The moaning, the dark curls sticking to the wall behind his head, crisp white shirt pulled halfway up his torso. 

“You’re going to be death of me, I think, Black,”

James wanted nothing more than to make a mess of this man. 

“I can live with that.”

go to part four

[best-transgender-character]

Hi everyone. I've been putting some thought into the best way to bring this up without making light of it, since this is a serious topic and this is a very unserious blog. I don't want to reblog a bunch of individual posts without context and explanations attached, but if I find posts that I feel are thorough and explain what is going on, I may reblog them. Here is a summary, for anyone completely unaware of what is happening:

A trans woman (Rita, URL was Predstrogen, now Cyprederone) has had her account falsely flagged as NSFW and banned multiple times as a result of a transmisogynistic harassment campaign against her. You may have seen people talking about how her transition timeline has been flagged mature content, multiple times.

Support have been unhelpful when it comes to the harassment, and dubiously helpful about restoring accounts until this latest event.

People reached out to Photomatt about the topic, who is the CEO of Tumblr. He decided to respond, claiming that Rita was personally harassing him and posting death threats about him. This does not line up with the official reason why Rita was banned, which was "sexually explicit materials". The "death threat" was a slapstick post about an exploding car full of hammers. Matt threatened to contact the police or FBI about the threat, used neutral pronouns for Rita despite being informed of her pronouns, and even referred to her as 'it' in one sentence. He referred to Rita as "pergstrogen" in one post, which may be a particularly unfortunate typo, but may also be an ableist slur. He also sent people direct messages about the topic. Matt denied any possibility of transmisogyny playing a part, and suggested that people who feel this site is not safe for trans women should just leave to a different site.

Rita has been banned for life. Several people criticising Matt for this have also been banned.

Please pay attention to this, read other posts about it, look at Photomatt's blog (archived as of 21/02) to see the way he has handled this and Cyprederone's blog to see Rita's statement.

Here are all of Photomatt's posts about the topic, please check the notes of them to see people's responses as well as people archiving his comments. Edit: These posts have been deleted. I'm unsure if there is an archive somewhere of the comments, but these links are now the webarchive links to these posts.

You gonna do anything or make any statement about the rampant transmisogyny on this hellsite (original post with they/them) (first edit with "the account") (second edit with she/her) (archive of most recent edit)

I love this site and I’m sorry so many people are determined to ruin it.

So, the terfs and neonazis are fine, but a trans women giving threatening you is where you draw the line?

You should really feel bad about how transphobic tumblr is

all you ever do is drop the ban hammer on trans women you don't like, while casually ignoring the harassment they face

can I report your beahviour, or?

it's been four hours and nothing you've said has made this decision look better

Why did you misgender her lmao

❤ (heart emoji) [I don't yet have an archive of this. Please reach out if you have an archive of this, although there wasn't much relevant in this post.]

I'm continuing to get harassment and death threats here

My Beliefs and Principles

Tweeting Rita's saved URLs

He is further arguing with people on Twitter.

[Edit] Staff have now made a PR statement about the topic.

Please give trans women your love and support, and remember that this is deeply serious transmisogyny, not just an excuse to joke about car hammer explosions.

[transflynnscifo]

Thoughts regarding the Scifos

i felt like gathering some ideas that ive had and discussed with people in the past, combining them with what we have available from the novel translations of dnk. it'll be under cut for if you havent read the novels yet and/or havent finished tov.

this goes without saying, but obviously since this is all found within side content and not in the game directly, this doesnt mean its 100% canon. its only canon to a person if they choose to believe it!

also. this is all speculative so do keep that in mind!

but i want to take note of how much flynn's parents' influence (in the brief time they've spent with flynn) could be felt on him. obviously, this wont be an ideal look at it, as writing and ideas about flynn's parents wasn't a thing in the game, and instead started with the first strike movie (unfortunately, some plot points contradict with things within the game. this is not the post to talk about that though). flynns past is explored further in the novels, which released around 2015/2016

firstly, it would be good to try gather whatever confirmed info there is on flynn's father. flynn's father in dnk doesnt even have a name attached to him! but i decided to stick with the name we get in first strike: finath scifo. for starters, let's stick with only the information from the novels.

it's heavily implied that the scifos all come from the citizen's/public quarter. finath's death was enough of a blow to norein and flynn that they needed to part with their former lives and move to the lower quarter. with how sickly norein is shown to be, it becomes apparent to me that finath was the sole breadwinner of the family. you could argue that he probably wasnt a very important position of a knight too, since becoming a captain is pretty hard. (flynn is the spiders georg of knight promotions) hence, finath probably wasnt even that rich (but still doing fine when compared to the lower quarter residents). if he didnt earn much to begin with, then it would make sense why norein had to resort to selling most of her and flynns possessions and move out.

as to how he must have been as a person... clearly, his own sense of justice affected norein enough for her to wish to follow the same principles, even if it meant her death. the question i want to pose though, how much of his sense of justice can we infer? was he actually against people stealing? how much of his worldview has influenced flynn in the novels?

with how flynn seems to act about the dark wings in the novels, its possible to say yes, finath was against stealing. but even then, i cant find myself saying this with complete certainty. this is because norein makes the choice to not drink the panacea, and it's already been years since finath's death. i feel her memory of finath and the choices she makes must have been motivated by her own mental state, too, besides finath's morals.

when it comes to flynn, finath actually started teaching his son swordsmanship before age 7. historically speaking, trainings for knights in noble families started from age 7, when the child is considered a page, whose job became to serve the senior knight, as well as learning swordsmanship. with flynn even having a book on techniques that he continues learning diligently from, its apparent that finath had ambitions for flynn to follow in his footsteps. i feel i could argue this could also be part of the reason why flynn is so adamant about not besmirching techniques for the knights, and why he chides yuri about it (both in the novels and in the game). by doing the same techniques, it's like flynn is able to honor his father's death, even if knighthood itself is a sore spot for him at the time.

i also want to note the words norein uses in her posthumous letter to flynn: [source from this chapter]

You may not be able to understand the choice he made, or the choice I made, right now. I’m sorry for not being able to stay by your side until you did. Even so, I still hope that you will understand one day.

(emphasis in bold by me)

once again, it all comes back to choices and living (or dying) by them, a central theme of vesperia!

the wording here is fascinating, as we never quite get an explanation as to how finath died in the novels.

but ultimately, it was still a choice he made that lead to his death. norein probably knows how finath must have perished. does flynn? with how dodgy he is on the topic, it could be argued for either way. in my opinion, with how the novels follows flynn's perspective sometimes, it doesnt seem that bit in particular turmoils flynn. it makes me think he is probably aware of how finath died, but simply hasnt been able to fully come to terms with it (much like how he later struggles understanding norein's choice to not drink the panacea)

i feel like such an honesty on how and why both his parents died is a double-edged sword for flynn. while he is able to know the truth, it also makes him close off with his thoughts at his lowest. granted, this isnt fully visible in game, but id argue its one of the possible reasons he spends so much time coming to terms with different things and ruminates about it even when in the party (such as yuri's killings). in fact, in-game, he takes alexei's betrayal pretty badly, still wishing he could understand why alexei made this choice even in the latter's boss fight, much to yuris surprise!

let's move on to norein for now. we know she is sickly, and it's clear that she hasnt been the same since moving to the lower quarter. flynn tends to her on many days, and she requires his help on many things even as he is young. she's made the hat for flynn in the past, but you never find her making anything similar again. if she had any particular interests and passions, finath's death took them with him.

it's when she is able to teach the lower quarter how to read that she briefly regains a spark of life, and a purpose to do something. and when she is hit with the (presumably aer-related) sickness, she sinks back to how she'd been. she refuses the panacea from jiri, because it meant going against finath's ideals, and chose to die.

it's easy to infer that she was an incredibly depressed woman. and when she was hit with such a deadly sickness, i think she was simply waiting to die from it. obviously, it's a painful and a pretty terrible choice to have, especially as she does ultimately leave her son all alone. on the other hand, she believes flynn wouldnt be alone in the community of the lower quarter. its hard to completely rationalize her choice, as it all seems motivated by her own mental state. such as the fact she may also display some form of self-deprecation? how low would one have to be doing to think their child will be ultimately alright after their death?

what does all of this say about flynn later on? you see this as soon as chapter one of the novel. he doesnt wish to be a trouble for, or have his negative feelings be known by his mother. he puts on a smile, and isnt entirely honest with her when the other boys pestered him. he goes for the river escapade for his mother's health's sake, and not for any other known reason.

even when she dies, flynn is never able to get out of that behavior. as is noted in the last chapter for part 2, it's like he had no desire for anything. this was said about him not spending money, but this line seems to ring true about flynn throughout the novel. this is obviously due to the grief he's been dealing with, but it's also indicative of something flynn struggles in the future too. he is never able to be a very selfish person. arguably, when he expresses selfishness, it actually ends up causing some things to go differently (such as when he insists going with the party to baction rather than lead his brigade up until the heracles scenes) (or how, arguably, his own insistence to learn knight techniques evolved into norein willingly teaching literacy to the lower quarter residents)

especially in his position as a knight, taking any time as distraction even to speak to yuri for a bit costs him valuable time. this is already an issue when you become a captain of the knights, but its even further amplified when its an issue flynns been dealing with since childhood.

but when it comes to it, it seems to me that there have been some vague attempts for flynn to stop concerning himself with knighthood, from noreins end. i dont mean it in a "she was against it", but in a "she didnt encourage him" way. for one, flynn didnt have his first sword back for quite some time, until chapter 3 of part 1 in the novels when he and yuri bought it back. so he wasnt able to train with a sword by looking at his manual. and yet, the manual was the single thing flynn had left of knighthood and of his father.

finally, i want to invoke the reason the first strike movie gives for finath's death, and how it may have affected norein and flynn.

(this is incredibly speculative)

the movie says finath "disobeyed orders". for a knight who seems to have had astrong g sense of justice that affected both norein and flynns sense of right and wrong, it makes one wonder:

a) was he truly uptight about morals, and made an exception that resulted in him dying?

b) or was he more lax with strictness, but thebreader is getting a warped sense of his views through norein in the novels? a more back or white reading of his views, as opposed to nuance?

when norein declined the panacea, was that her way of affirming finath's morals when he didnt at his death? was the memory his family has of him sculpted into an ideal, rather than remain that of a person they knew?

we dont even know his name in the novels.

when looking back to the game, flynn is textually treated as the shining light of the imperial knights, and the light to yuris dark. yuri also has, by act 3, put him on a pedestal, undermining the equal standing they otherwise are shown to have in game. because yuri thinks too little of himself as a person, and thinks flynn of more than simply the person he calls his best friend.

and ironically enough, flynn in his youth makes the choice of sticking to knighthood, and ultimately, sticking to his beliefs. in the future, its a path where he has to numb down most of his desires for the sake of following his principles. he unknowingly may have made the choice of sacrificing his selfishness.

for his beliefs, finath had made a choice that resulted in the separation from his family. for her beliefs, norein forgot all that she had to live for, and gave up.

is it for a similar reason that flynn doesnt protest his commandant position? (there are hints that the commandant position broke alexei, after all)

...here is a final thought to chew on in regards to finath. stage play spoiler. its in rot13 cypher:

va gur fgntr cynl, gurer vf n fprar jurer nyrkrv naq sylaa gnyx. va gung fprar, nyrkrv zragvbaf sylaaf sngure, juvpu gryyf gur nhqvrapr gung nyrkrv xarj svangu.

i wouldnt take the bit itself too seriously, as, again, its not something stated in the original source material, but it opens room for speculation, so i figured it can be shared

[barbieb0y]

where hope lies in a snowless land.

day 5 wowza!!

for day 5 of scrunkly week, i... actually planned to go with all the prompts except what once was will never be again but... i got carried away and somehow that became the only prompt i wrote about ???????? dude i swear theres just smth that possesses my fingers when im writing

ngl i projected more than usual here somehow but this is like. hurt/comfort. paper cut has a shitty family and joe comforts him basically. their relationship is more ambiguous too. anyway

“Man, if I wanted to live in a place where there’s no snow during winter, I might as well go back to my hometown.”

Paper Cut quips as he looks up at the sky and reminisces the days he spent at a land oceans away from his current home, one corner of his lips tucked in disappointingly. Unfortunately for the two of them, San Francisco is not known for its snowfall activity. On the contrary, when it does occur, it’s written into the history books.

“Too bad you’re stuck with me, huh?”

Joe’s comment is accompanied by a kick of a rock, then it sinking into the murky city waters, like an extremely discounted version of throwing a coin into a fountain for a wish. Hands in his pockets despite wearing gloves.

“God, Joe, don’t even. I’d choose to be stuck with you over my family any time, any day.”

Paper Cut notices Joe’s very subtle flinching. He must’ve tried to hide it from him. Paper Cut sighs regretfully as he looks at his feet; as he’s sitting on the backrest of the bench, his feet rest on the seat itself.

“...Sorry.”

It’s all he can really say, even though he doesn’t owe it to anyone. And Joe makes this clear in his response.

“It’s okay. Your family members are assholes anyway.”

He’s not factually wrong but it doesn’t make Paper Cut any less guilty. The latter exhales through his nostrils as the former moves to sit on the bench beside Paper Cut.

“Yeah but I’m going against your whole belief, aren’t I?”

Always love your family. That’s number two of Joe’s many street survival rules. Paper Cut admires Joe for his strong beliefs but that rule of his has always made him reluctant to talk about family around him. In a way, Paper Cut considers Joe lucky to even hold that kind of belief, despite everything that happened with him and his sister.

“Maybe less ‘going against’ and more ‘challenging’.”

This comment makes Paper Cut turn towards Joe. Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long for an explanation.

“Your situation made me think about things.”

Joe simply stares at the water. It is as tainted as any body of water that lies in the middle of an equally tainted city. Yet Paper Cut is not as tainted, despite being part of such a murky family. He dwells on this for a little longer.

“Family… you always have to love your family, yeah. But your family already hates you for something you can’t control. That’s not fair to you.”

Paper Cut struggles to find the words to argue back. Joe leans back in his seat.

“So, uh, it’s understandable if you can’t love them back. If anything, I think it’s good for you that you don’t force yourself to love them.”

Paper Cut appreciates Joe for reconsidering one of his core principles because of him, he truly does, but–

“...That’s the thing, though.”

“Huh?”

Paper Cut begins to move and promptly jumps off the bench entirely. He stands still, gaze lost to the cityscape.

“I don’t force myself to love them… because I already do. I still do, kinda. And it hurts to miss the people that can’t even love you back like you do with them.”

Paper Cut is hunched over now with his hands clasped close to his chest, choking on unshed tears. Joe instantly gets up at this display but Paper Cut simply shakes his head to stop him from laying a hand on him.

“I… I can’t erase our history together. It’s not like I was never happy when I was with them… They did make me happy at some point. But then they threw me out like I was garbage.”

Paper Cut finds himself kneeling on the ground. His heart is aching.

“...I just wished they did it sooner.”

He breaks. The pavement beneath him soaks up his tears emphatically, the only solace it can provide him. Joe has his right hand on his back as support.

“I’m an arcanist, they’re not. So why? Why did they keep me around for so long? Because I was useful? Yet they thought I was a disgusting arcanist anyway.”

Joe locks him in a side embrace now. He doesn’t push him away and simply keeps sobbing.

Eventually, they both sit down on the pavement, despite the presence of a bench right behind them. Paper Cut doesn’t have the strength for such a mundane action as sitting on a bench like a normal person. He was never normal anyway.

They stay like that for a few minutes. Paper Cut sniffs as he pulls his knees to his chest, resting his hands and head on them.

“...Sorry again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. We were just talking about the fucking nonexistent snow here, haha.”

Joe shakes his head at the self-deprecating laugh and brings Paper Cut in for a full hug this time. Paper Cut says nothing. He presses himself closer into Joe. He smells like love.

“It’s okay.” And that is all Joe has to say. Yet it is all Paper Cut needed to hear. Because it is okay. He’s here now with Joe, who has more than enough love to offer.

And - he definitely imagined it but - he can feel snow in his hair.

[pollenallergie]

ok ok ok so

the year is 1987, it’s your second semester of your freshman year at college, and you’re super fucking nervous about taking chem 101 because 1) you haven’t taken chem since you were like a tiny little bitty bopper in high school and 2) the last time you took chem, you totally sucked ass at it.

so on the first day you’re like praying to god that the professor will let you guys work in pairs and by some miracle, he does.

here comes the hard part:

who do you pair up with??

you lock eyes with the girl at the lab station next to yours. she’s a cute, tiny, strawberry blonde with a blue scrunchie in her hair that perfectly matches the blue of her eyes. it’s 7 o’clock in the morning, so, she’s fresh-faced with not a lick or makeup on. however, if you had to guess, you’d probably say when she does wear makeup she tends to stick to the pretty baby blues and pinks. she looks like every popular girl from your old high school, but somehow prettier, with kinder eyes and a warmer smile. you think there’s no way in hell she’s gonna pick you as her lab partner, so you quickly avert your eyes and resume your search of the laboratory for a potential partner.

however, your search is swiftly interrupted by the sound of a soft, sweet, timid voice call out your name. your eyes quickly flit back to the girl on your left only to find her looking at you expectantly, albeit a little shyly.

“that is your name, right? it’s, um, it’s written on your notebook,” she says, pointing to the lab notebook you’ve set out on your station.

“y-yeah,” you stutter back. you response earns you a sweet smile from her, she seems oddly reassured by how nervous you are.

“i’m chrissy,” the strawberry blonde introduces herself timidly, as she holds her dainty hand out for you to shake.

you accept her hand, shaking it quickly, nervously, before dropping it in favor of picking at your own cuticles. “nice to meet you,” you respond simply, though not unkindly, as you muster up a small smile to offer her.

“do you want to be my partner?” chrissy asks.

“me?” you reply dumbly, mentally berating yourself for being so awkward.

“yeah,” she responds with an easy chuckle. “i noticed you already have all your stuff set out,” chrissy clarifies as she gestures towards the goggles, lab notebook, calculator, and two number two pencils you have set out neatly at your station. she continues, “i like having a partner who’s as prepared as me; shows you’re going to take this course seriously.”

“yeah, y-yeah, definitely,” you stutter, “i, um, i’m majoring in biology so i kinda really need to pass this class.”

“really?” chrissy asks, perking up excitedly. “i’m a bio major too!” she explains giddily. “are you premed?” she asks.

“no, no. i wish had the brains for that, but, um, i actually prefer environmental sciences,” you reply. somehow the smile on her face only gets brighter.

“me too!” she all but cheers. “are you taking principles of biology this semester?”

“yeah, i’m on my second semester of it. i have professor hughes,” you reply.

“so do i! i’m in her 3 o’clock class!” chrissy says excitedly as she unthinkingly reaches forward gently grasp your arm, unable to contain her joy; you think she’s somewhat like a golden retriever in the regard, especially given her luscious strawberry blonde locks. she blushes when she notices how forward she’s been, murmuring out a quiet “sorry,” as she releases her featherlight hold on you.

as if to placate her, you smile at her brightly, her excitement serving as a balm for your nerves.

“unfortunately i have her at 10,” you remark, “wish i would’ve signed up for her afternoon class so we could’ve been partners there too.”

chrissy’s bright smile swiftly returns at your words, any lingering shame fading away as her excitement renews.

“well, if we can’t be lab partners there too, maybe we could get together and study sometime? i’ve heard the first couples weeks of this semester focus more on viruses and bacteria, and, well, microbiology really intimidates me,” she admits.

chrissy’s offer takes you by surprise; mere moments ago you would’ve guessed that someone like her would simply turn their nose up at you and now, here she is, asking you to be her study buddy in addition to being her lab partner. maybe all the clique-y high school shit really does get left behind when you graduate.

“yeah, i’d like that,” you agree.

you don’t miss the way she blushes slightly and bites her lip before bashfully responding, “great! m-maybe we could meet at the café here on campus this friday and get a head start on studying?”

“yeah, that sounds great. i have some free time in between bio and my 1 o’clock psych class if you want to meet up around that time,” you offer.

“sure, yeah! it’s a date!”

for the rest of the week leading up to your meeting on friday, you hyperfixate on those last three words as well as the way chrissy kept sneaking glances at you during the remainder of the lab. <3

[upon-a-starry-night]

Never Lost Pt2

Drukkari x female reader

College Au

Summary: You meet your new roommate Makkari and her friends at college. Something begins developing between you, Druig, and Makkari, but will insecurities and sorority girls get in the way of your blooming romance?

Pt1.

(disclaimer! This series is unedited and will have errors- I apologize)

After saying goodbye to your mom at the airport you drove back to the dorm, Makkari was nowhere to be seen when you opened the door so you opted for a shower to wash away the slight disappointment you were feeling. 

You couldn’t deny that she was absolutely gorgeous, and she seemed very talented and funny, you couldn’t wait to get to know her more, and if everyone on campus was as hot as her then you were going to have a really good year.

You stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself, looking around and realizing you forgot to grab some clothes. You peaked out of the door of the bathroom, and seeing that Makkari was still out you swiftly walked out of the bathroom and to your duffel bag to search for an outfit, you were so busy shuffling through your clothes you didn’t hear the small ‘beep’ of the door unlocking and you froze when you heard it open.

 You turned to the door, clutching the towel tightly as you noticed Makkari in the doorway, eyes wracking over your towel-clad body before coming up to meet your own, a slight blush donning her cheeks. 

You dropped a hand to sign “Sorry” which ultimately drew her attention toward your chest and caused you to flush a little. 

She shook her head out of whatever she was thinking and brought a hand up to cover her eyes, a slight smile now being the only thing visible on her face, it was the perfect opportunity to look at her lips but unfortunately, you had to get dressed if you wanted to preserve at least a little bit of your dignity.

 You rushed to the bathroom to change into your pajamas before exiting to find Makkari had changed into hers as well, a guilty smile found it’s way to your lips

“Sorry” you signed again

“Don’t be” she dismissed and sat criss-crossed on her bed, you copied her position on your own. 

“what year are you?”  she questioned

“i’m a junior” you started “ I started my first few  years of college in my hometown because my family wanted me to stay close -and I was too scared to move away honestly, but then we took a vacation here last summer and I saw this college and I knew I wanted to transfer” you explained, she nodded in understanding

“I’m a junior too, a few of my friends and I transferred  here because our old college got shut down, the principle was kind of controlling and the college wasn’t getting enough students admitted so the state stopped funding”

“oh wow, I’m sorry”

“I’m not, I like this college a lot more already”  she gave you a mischievous smile and you blushed

“do you know if there’s anything on the itinerary  yet?”

“my friends said they’re doing a welcome bonfire tomorrow  night and a few more bonding things before classes start next week” she concluded

“that’s pretty cool” she nodded in agreement

“I can introduce you to my friends tomorrow if you want?” Makkari proposed

“I’d like that” the two of you exchanged numbers before getting under the covers and going to bed with a quick “goodnight”

–

You woke up with a smile on your face and a text from Makkari

Makkari: Hey Y/n! I went on a morning run but I promise I’ll be back soon ;)

You quickly typed out a response 

                                       Y/n: Ok cool! See you in a bit, have fun torturing yourself

 You stretched before getting dressed and heading out the door, you asked the receptionist for a map before following it to the food hall. When you get there your jaw nearly drops and that plethora of foods they have available, you were about to get food when you stopped and pulled out your phone, shooting a quick text to Makkari

         Y/n: Have you eaten breakfast?

The reply was almost instant

Makkari: No?

        Y/n: are you allergic to anything?

Makkari: Ni

Makkari: No*

       Y/n: kay

Makkari: ??

You grabbed some fruit cups, orange juice bottles, and waffles with little syrup packets before making your way back up into the dorm, Makkari was already there by the time you got back and you found yourself faced with her abs again as you entered to room.

You couldn’t help but watch the way her throat moved as she drank the water from her water bottle, jesus she wasn't the only one who was thirsty- 

“You better not be a picky eater” you joked

She lit up as she spotted the food in your hands, coming over to grab half of the things you brought before giving you a hug, sandalwood and vanilla instantly flooded your senses, you would’ve stayed in her arms all day if you could. 

The two of you ate your breakfast in happy silence before you finally spoke up

“Do you have any plans for today?” you let her read your lips, you found you quite liked when her attention was on them, she shook her head no before getting up to throw her trash away

- Do you want to watch a movie or something?- you suggested

“Yes”

The two of you spent the rest of the morning/noon watching rom-coms and bickering over which was the best one before Makkari decided you two should probably start getting ready for the bonfire

“Do you know if we have to bring anything?” You turned from your closet to sign to Makkari

“I don’t think so, they should be providing food and drinks” She signed back from her closet

“ I can’t find anything good to wear” you huffed

“let me help” Makkari smiled, walking over and putting a hand on your waist as she moved you over slightly to get a better look at your wardrobe, it made you shiver and you’re more than sure she felt it but she gave no indication that she had. 

She pulled out a pair of white jean shorts and a black t-shirt and handed it to you, you changed in the bathroom before coming out and looking in the mirror, 

“It’s cute but I feel like it’s missing something” you confessed, she nodded her head in agreement, walking back over to your closet and looking for something before going back to her side and retrieving a jean jacket. She handed it over to you and a light blush crept onto your face as you slipped it on

“are you sure?” you knew it was going to be cold and you certainly weren’t opposed to wearing her jacket but you didn’t know if you two had reached that level comfortability yet. Apparently, you had as Makkari gives you a nod and motions for you to turn around and look in the mirror

“it looks good, Thank you” You gave her a smile that she returned before the two of you continued getting ready.

Pt3.

[hazelcephalopod]

Alright here some of my thoughts for the beginning of Preacher season 3 -still insomnia posting.

What the hell is wrong with his Granma? Also this whole family sucks -except Jesses mom it seems.

Episode one- Jesse deals with things with violence and making questionably deals -worse than usual. Also. Half dead woman’s dark magic to bring back the dead.

Tulip backstory- it’s fucked up and sad! She just wanted to eat her cereal.

Cass is very done and tbh very fair at this point.

Protip. Don’t eat things a weird mean old witch gives you. Don’t do it. (No idea how that’s gonna pan out tbh but I’d wager on it being bad)

…or give them your spit. Don’t do it.

So. I don’t think the resurection spell really worked? She really was ready to go “fuck this asshole” until god sent her back. (Hilarious.)

…if she has to choose one of these men I’d advise on Cass tbh. (Based off the spoilers I have I believe it now gets even more love Trianguly and tbh I’m still on horses the ot3, the messiness makes it more fun)

Episode 2: Jesse tries to salvage things. Unfortunately he also makes very bad choices

Hey they sent him to school! Oh no this vice principle is the fucking worst. “She’s a junior” and your an adult man, with a wife. Stop it.

Oh it’s the soul extracter! For the family soul extraction business.

Don’t worry Tulip sure god will send you some horrifying visions. (Srsly he’s more interested in you then… seemingly anyone else looking for him)

“Who’s Jenny” -this is why they were leaving you Jesse! Truly paying no attention to them at all.

Tbh. My main feeling whenever the Grail or Star show up at this point is “these guys again really”? Yes I get it they are part of the plot as the antagonists and whatever but… do we hav to see this much of them? Doing whatever this is supposed to be? (Imagine if the Hare Krishna’s had managed to just take them out.)

Yes Jesse, Tulip is fine other than you are now captives of you’re frankly evil Gran’ma who doesn’t seem keen on letting anyone go

What the hell is happening with Cass and the smaller uncle? I’m not opposed I’m… I’m weirdly curious. (Later me- well. That’s not good. Avoid that uncle)

Yup and there’s the god visions coming back. (For all the sense they make)

I must admit from what I’ve seen of the uncles… Gran’ma just desperately trying to make Jesse her heir and legacy I get it. It’s not much but… we’ll I get it. Still evil.

I’m sorry it’s so funny that this show has a vampire and they are just like “wear covering clothes an carry and umbrella in broad daylight. That’s works!”

Oh right the fucking grail idiots are here. Also. You wait to shoot them right beside the swamp so you don’t have to carry them.

Lmao. Tulip has not gotten the memo about Jesse and Cass really breaking up hard.

Does the Grail teleport?! How the hell is Starr here?!

Welp. This is all going to shit.

Well Jesse is gone again. This time leaving the other two in an even worse situation! (Lol. Tulip and Gran’ma have foiled that in record time.)

Ill be the first to say people can change but they have to take the first step and demonstrate a willingness to do so and… so far there is not sign that’s gonna happen anytime soon with Jesse unless someone actually introduces a consequence he can’t easily overcome.

Great a weird clean murder dungeon.

[aajjks]

mommy issues!JK

“W-What? Oh, he bit that bitch?”

“jungkook” you warn.

“Oh yn don’t worry I’m coming, but why would he bite her? Did she say something to him?”

“i’m not sure. i came back from the printing room and he got escorted to the office. i think he’s gonna get suspended, jungkook”

after you finished conversing with jungkook, you walk over to chaeyoung who was holding an ice pack to her left hand. “that little fucking brat” she curses “i can’t believe he fucking bit me. what the hell is wrong with him?”

“i don’t what’s going on. he’s usually respectful towards you. what happened?”

“i told that brat if he didn’t stop crying then his father wouldn’t come and get him”

“wha—why would you say that?”

“to make him stop crying, y/n! i wasn’t being mean about it, i was being gentle but it’s like he just snapped”

⏪ rewind ⏪

“fine with me. be right back, k?”

“ok” says chaeyoung but the moment you leave seol begins to cry again.

“what’s wrong, seoly?” says areum who tries to comfort her crying best friend but her comfort isn’t what he wants. seol continues to cry and whine for his father who is probably at work by now and so help console the crying toddler, chaeyoung takes it upon herself to try and get through to him.

“hey, seol right? stop crying, it’ll be okay. you just have to be patient. your father will pick you up, i’m sure of it”

“leave me alone”

“that’s not nice, seol”

“i don’t wanna talk to you”

“i was just trying to help. don’t be rude to your teachers”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!! I WANT MY DADDY!!”

“jeon seol do not yell in the classroom”

“YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

“you know what? if you keep misbehaving i’m going to tell your dad to leave you here all by yourself”

“N-NO!!”

“yep, i’m going to tell him that—,”

before chaeyoung could finish her sentence, seol got out of his chair and bit her left hand with so much force it could’ve broke skin. “OUCH!! YOU LITTLE—!” chaeyoung pushes the boy off of her and carries him to another class. “

“no! no! no! i-i’m sorry!! i’m sorry!! please don’t tell daddy!! don’t tell daddy!! i’m sorry!! i want ms. y/n!! i want my mommy! i-i want a mommy!!!!”

once seol was out of the classroom, you immediately rushed back to see what all the commotion was about which leads you to now…

you head to the classroom seol was sitting in but the mrs. ae-cha, the princple, beats you to it.

“o-oh, hi. um, i can take him if you want” you say but she shakes her head. “he’ll be sitting in my office until his parent or guardian picks him up. give the parent a call and notify them that mr. seol will be in my office”

“y-yes ma’am”

before she takes him away, you kneel down to seol’s level and pull him into a tight hug that you didn’t know the child needed.

“i-i’m sorry ms. y/n”

“it’s okay, seol. daddy will come pick you up okay?”

“promise?”

“i promise. i’ll call him. be good, okay?”

and as promised, you contact jungkook and inform about the whole thing.

to jungkook ☺️

seol is in the principle’s office

when jungkook arrives to pick up seol, he heads to the principle’s office and the moment seol sees his father, he immediately runs towards him.

“good morning, mr. jeon. please, have a seat” says mrs. ae-cha as she takes a seat behind her desk and presents jungkook with papers to sign.

“so, unfortunately seol will be getting suspended because of the incident with another teacher. we do not tolerate biting or hitting, which seol has a lengthy record of. due to the nature of the incident he will be suspended for five days and can be brought back next friday. just need you to sign here and the two of you will be good to go”

“mr. jeon, if another incident like this occurs i will have to expel your son and unenroll him from our system. it’s in your best interest to seek counsel for seol. it’ll prevent incidents like this happening in the future”

~🫧

“What do you mean he’s getting suspended? He’s just a five-year-old child?!” Jungkook and immediately gets into defense mode,

The principal looks pissed off, but he doesn’t care because his child is obviously suffering and these people can’t see it because they’re not fucking human.

“Mrs… just try to understand he’s a kid.. and he wouldn’t bite someone out of spite… the teacher must’ve tried something.” Jungkook argues back.

This is not good For his record. “Ms chaeyoung? Please I’ll apologize to her personally just don’t expel him…. He will be suspended for five days and I’ll make sure that he understands that what he did was really wrong….” Jungkook gets up from the chair and takes Seol’s hand.

“ thank you Mrs Aecha. Seol.. say sorry to the principal and bow.” The child does what his dad tells him to but he is still crying.

His hand is literally burning, “buba-you have a fever..” they both walk out of the principal’s office as jungkook picks up Seol from the ground into his arms.

He’s getting more concerned because, his little body is burning with fever. “ it’s OK honey. It was not your fault… but biting someone is not a good thing you know that right?”

Seol nods before nuzzling his face into his father’s neck

“Hey would you like to stay with auntie Alina? I have something to do at work and I can’t take you with me… NOOO DADDY NOO WANT TO STAY WITH YOU… please take me with you. I’ll be a good boy I promise…”

“or maybe I should…” Jungkook thinks for a moment before they both exit the school building, Jungkook’s got seol’s water bottle and school bag hanging off his left shoulder.

He sighs and sets the kid onto the backseat, making sure that he’s got his belt on. He needs to see a doctor right now because he’s burning with fever.

Jungkook takes out his phone and sends a text to Nara directly because he doesn’t want any drama anymore.

‘can’t come to the office. My son is sick. I have to take care of him.’

“come on Bubba we’re going to the doctor and then we’ll go home OK?”

Jungkook is so sad because he didn’t even get to say anything to you and you must be concerned about what’s going on with the father and son duo. After he’s done with the doctor and making sure that his son is all right, he will maybe.. call you after you’re done with school.

He gets into the car and starts it before driving off to the hospital.

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Curious if you have any snippets from or more to say about "Eris finding a renegade Hive chapel dedicated to her on the Moon"?

As requested, here are snippets from the WIP involving the Hive chapel. Capitalization/punctuation is indicative that this was composed on my phone, probably at odd hours when I could not sleep (normally my WIPs have none of that but my phone keeps 'helping').

***

Well this sure is a spooky cave. You should see the hellmouth sometime. I’ll pass. Whoa. Tread carefully. Take my hand. I will guide you. Sure is dark in here. Can you even see where you’re going? Of course not.

***

Well, they wanted you to see it. Maybe something to, I don’t know, acknowledge them? And what might accomplish that? I mean, I’m just grasping at straws here but, nah that’s a terrible idea never mind. Speak. That’s a statue of you, right? Mmhmm It’s just, hive are into bodily fluids for some reason, usually pullin’ them outta other people. Maybe smear some of your eye goo on the statue’s eyes maybe? Sorta like… peeing on it, without actually, you know peeing on it? Claiming it in a way? Crude, but there is internal consistency in your logic and it works within the principles of contagion magic. Very well.

***

Uh… They protected your sparrow That's unfortunate. It wasn't worth dying for. I'm sorry. If it's any consolation we probably would have had to defend ourselves from it on our way out. Maybe - still sucks Yes He pulled the dismembered eliksni fingers out of the vehicle and dropped them into the hole in the middle of the corpse. Looks um… displayed An attempt at communication Maybe we can get them to communicate less violently Doubtful. This is the hive. The hiss from the tunnels came again.

[gumi-megpoidd]

Apocalypse Game (Chapter list)

Chapter Five: A Broken Chain

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the items you requested aren’t ready yet, I’ve had a hard time even finding someone who knew about it and could help source it, I-“

“Enough. I didn’t come here for excuses, Leira.”

The woman sitting across from Leira cut him off, her gaze forcing him to sit down and shut up. Leira was sharp man, cracked frames sitting on his face and clean clothes on him, a rarity in this wasteland of a world. Few could stand up to the power he wielded, not in strength but influence. Naturally, the woman in front of him was an exception.

“I have a… ritual I must conduct soon, and that is one of the key items.”

“Y-yes, I’m trying as best I can in order to obtain it, but it’s rarity and elusiveness is causing-“

“Silence! My patience is wearing thin this time around, I’ve almost got it in my grasp, I can almost rest easy, and if you happen to ruin this, I will personally wish you had died during the Godfall. One week.”

“P-pardon?” Leira’s heart was pounding, sweat pouring as the sheer pressure caused by the woman’s rage froze him in place.

“You get one more week to retrieve the item.”

“B-but I have no idea if-“

“I don’t think you quite understood me.” The woman slowly stood up, a thin toothed chain materializing from her hand, which she quickly snatches and holds up to Leira. “You know how a chainsaw works in principle, yes?”

His face paled whiter than the horns of the devil of life, which could outshine the moon. “I- it rotates a cha-chain really fast…”

A terrifying grin slowly rolled up her face, as she opened her palm upwards and the chain began to levitate, rotating slowly at first, but picking up speed, starting to rip through the air with a whistle. “That’s correct! Now, can you please tell me what you’re gonna do next, hm?”

“I- I will- I’ll get the core with- within a week.”

“Goooood!~” she drawled out, “now you won’t have to worry about anything!”

She slowly started walking out, stopping in the doorway with an, “Oh! One more thing!”

“Y-yes?” Leira asked, shaking uncontrollably.

“Don’t try to run. It won’t work. Alright, see you in a week!~”

The instant she left Leira fell out of his chair, laying on the ground in his own liquids, sobbing, “Why me…? Why did the queen of the apocalypse choose me…?”

***************************

A few weeks after Ruin had been brought back to Carnation’s base, a knock rung out on Ruin’s door, causing him to jolt up from his bed, where he was wallowing just a second ago. “Er, hello?” He called out, unsure of who it was.

The door swung open, and behind was a large woman, dressed in leathers and with strange metallic lines wrapping around, inlaid into her neck, her arms, and her legs.

With a friendly tone, she smiled and waved at him, “Hello there! You must be Ruin, correct?”

“Y-yeah, that’s me. You are…?”

“I’m Elle! I’m Carrie- Carnation’s partner! Nice t’meetcha!” She exclaims, walking up to him and holding out her hand.

Ruin hesitates a moment, before grabbing her hand, thrown off guard by her sudden grip and aggressive hand shaking.

“So, what’s the story?” Elle asks Ruin shortly after letting go.

“Wh- what story? Huh?” Ruin looks up at her confused.

“Y’know, you got this dark mysterious look, black robe and pale skin, almost looking like the grim reaper! There’s GOTTA be a story behind that!”

“…what?”

“C’mon, pleaseeeee, I’ve gotta know!” She pleads, trying to puppy dog eyes at him.

“There’s no story, I just happened to end up like this.”

“Oh, bullshit! I’ve seen my fair share of people and I know who’s gotta story! Still trying to pry it outta Omen, but she is SO steadfast! Will not budge!”

“Again, nothing to say really, just some unfortunate circumstances I suppose.”

Elle pouts with a “Hmph,” crossing her arms and turning slightly.

“I will get you to tell me someday! Just you wait!” She says loudly, starting to walk out before whipping around, “Almost forgot! Carnation wanted me to tell you to go out to the back grounds, she wanted to introduce you to Omen or something. I dunno exactly, I’ll see ya later!” She quickly adds, slipping out of the room.

“…alright then. Guess I have something to do now.”

Ruin got up from the bed, walking silently out of the room and to the area behind the base. It took a few minutes to get there, as he had to navigate through large rooms dedicated to many different things. A dining room, a smithing room, a massive collection of all sorts of ingredients and materials, and even a whole ritual room. Each room seemed disconnected from the one next to it, as each greatly differed in style and contents.

He walked out of the complex, heading out to find his master. It only takes him a few moments to pick up her voice, but the other voice that was responding to his master sent chills down his spine. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe he’s just misremembering. He thinks back to the warning Carnation gave him all those weeks ago, when he first arrived here. His stomach dropped.

Ruin steeled himself, walking around some bushes, closer to the voices. The second voice was ringing loud in his ears, and he stared at the ground as he approached, not wanting his fears to be confirmed.

“Ah, here’s Ruin now! Right on time!”

Ruin tentatively looked up, bracing himself. Ruin’s and Omen’s eyes locked. Ruin dropped to the floor, while Omen stared in disbelief.

“It’s you.”

[queenlua]

can i ask about love 😭😭 that’s why i’m up

you get a spread from the Universal Waite tarot, e.g. "rider-waite but we made the colors not-fugly." this deck has guided multiple randos at magfest 2023 as to their romantic fate. (i also spilled a lot of beer on it once, sorry, the cards take longer to shuffle b/c still sticky)

PAST—reversed wheel of fortune: woah nelly. not to be all majora's mask happy mask salesman but... you've met with a terrible fate, haven't you? either something went real wrong in your past (cheated on, vicious breakup, etc), or things went badly for long enough that it sort of felt like a disaster after a certain point.

PRESENT—page of pentacles: but you're a plucky lil bastard (complimentary), aren't you, anon. i mean i don't know you but that's the vibe i always got from this pentacley lil boi. whatever happened, you're pretty determined not to let it keep you down. too bad you are uhhhh better with money/numbers/formulas/etc than, uh, romance, which is leaving you pretty stuck at the moment. and you may have tendencies toward stuck-ness but there's only so much that can be your fault personally, right

FUTURE—reversed queen of swords: okay yeah so here's the thing. if you're looking for love you might be on one of those dating apps, right. and those things definitely have their uses but it's definitely pretty efficient at turning you into a cynical bastard right quick, right, i've seen it before. if you are getting too sneer-y at the suboptimal suggestions, if you're cringing too hard at the ppl just trying to connect... you gotta shake that! you are a plucky lil bastard. you are not a cynical lil bastard.

even if dating apps and/or finding new love isn't your problem, same principles still apply. ms queen of swords over here is telling you that you're at risk of getting real sour over this whole thing real soon and that is not healthy for children or other living things. unfortunately in the future for your love situation to resolve happily you are going to have to... get a lil goofy? let go of the process a bit? don't abandon your plucky-keen-sense-of-self-ness, just, like, open yourself up a bit more. part of the process. you might even have to go to one of those contra dance things. i'm so sorry. but i promise it's for the best

[the1975attheirverybest]

I'm sorry but what are the paps doing to matty? isn't it normal that he gets papped? with his fame being at an all time high and spotted with his famous mum? i'm not hating i'm curious for real

For me, it’s a matter of principle. It’s about the paparazzi and the tabloids trying to profit off of his current notoriety. And the lengths that they go to, to do that.

I’m sorry but standing outside of his house with the long lens camera waiting for him is creepy and a violation of privacy. Then taking these pics of him hugging a fan just to pass it off as him being “seen with another woman” to fuel the drama about his breakup with Taylor is not okay either. Like, they’re going out of their way to fabricate a narrative that isn’t even remotely true and then sell it to people to stir more drama at the expensive of his personal privacy and his reputation.

If his name remains out there, this is only going to escalate. I’ve been part of other fandoms with artists that skyrocketed to fame or infamy less steadily than the 1975/ Matty. Look up videos of paps and Harry Styles. They wait for him at airports. Camera shoved in his face, yelling questions about his personal life trying to get a rise out of him so they can have it on video when he loses his cool. They follow him in their cars. Outside of hotels or restaurants. They tweet his location out to fans because they know that if fans show up, he’ll stop to take pics and talk to them, that way the paps can get more content and follow him after.

they’re only doing all this because it’s profitable for them to do so. Because tabloids are going to milk this whole Taylor thing for alllll that they can get out of it. Keep fans interested and titillated for clicks. If nobody cared that Matty it out there hugging women who aren’t Taylor Swift why would the paps be outside of his House? They’d go stalk another l unfortunate celeb. To me, that means, if I engage with the content they provide, I’m contributing to the continued drama and providing more reason for them to keep doing this to him. I don’t wanna be a part of it.

[thedisneychef]

Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Honey-Truffle Brown Butter Recipe

If you're a fan of Italian cuisine and unique flavor combinations, you may have heard of Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Honey-Truffle Brown Butter, a delicious and indulgent dish that combines the sweet flavor of sweet potato with the rich and earthy taste of truffle. Drawing from our experience, we can attest that Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Honey-Truffle Brown Butter is a unique and satisfying dish that's perfect for a special occasion or a cozy night in. The combination of pillowy soft gnocchi, sweet potato, and the rich and buttery sauce creates a unique and flavorful taste that's sure to impress any dinner guest. Whether you're a seasoned cook or a beginner, there are plenty of Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Honey-Truffle Brown Butter recipes available that are easy to follow and use simple ingredients that can be found at most grocery stores. In this article, we'll take a closer look at Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Honey-Truffle Brown Butter, its variations, and some tips and tricks to help you create a perfect dish every time. More Delicious Recipes You Will Love: - Sticky Toffee Pudding – Rose And Crown Pub And Dining Room - Sweet Potato Pancakes Recipes – Boatwright Dining Hall - Maple Creme Brulee Cupcakes: A Disney-Inspired Recipe Sorry for the looooong abscence… I was certainly gone longer then I’d ever dreamed I would be.  Unfortunately, illness, website problems, a new job, and yes, even a Disney trip kept me pretty occupied. Of course the illness and website problems were kind of miserable, but I wish I could say that new jobs and Disney trips were my legitimate excuses for falling behind in life. Usually it’s a combination of children, an inability to be on time, and sheer laziness that present special challenges for me… But that’s a different topic for a different blog! While I was at Disney, not only did I have an utterly awesome, amazing time (people, the new Fantasyland looks awesome. Seriously.), but I came back with a new cookbook focused on Disney holidays and seasons. Turned out that was a better-than-anticipated addition to my library, as I also brought back a monstrous cold that, 10 days later, is still making me miserable. As a result of my cold and my longing for Disney, I seem to crave a steady supply of Disney-related, seasonably appropriate comfort food that requires little-to-no effort to prepare on my part, something this cookbook has in abundance. Ironically, the first recipe I pulled from this cookbook actually wasn’t all that easy to prepare (or should I say, it was easy, but it was time consuming), but because it has it’s roots in one of the best places to eat at Disney, Artist Point, I had to make it.  Sometimes nostalgia and an overwhelming desire to eat well trumps convenience. I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve only had gnocchi once in my life, at Le Cellier actually, and while I liked it, I’m basically clueless on how to make it. I get the principle behind this potato-based dumpling, and I know it’s a favorite to prepare on shows like “Top Chef,” and I know it’s an “in” food right now, however, that food trend has yet to hit our area of New Hampshire. Such is the fate of those of us who live in an area where it’s Chilis, Applebees, Taco Bell, or bust.  Seeing as I wanted to try something different (and I over-bought on sweet potatoes), this recipe was a great fit, though not without it’s challenges. First, I’ll say that roasting the potato as opposed to boiling it was genius, as it both brought out the sweet, caramel-sugar taste of the potato, and it got me out of actually peeling a potato, my least favorite kitchen job. By roasting it, the skin was easier to peel than an orange. Already, huge win in my book. While I’m sure it’d have gone faster to peel, boil, and mash the potato, the taste was noticeably better after roasting and if cooking it for an hour gets me out of peeling, then I’ll do it with a big smile on my face. However, like most people I suspect, I don’t have a potato ricer… But I did have a large strainer and a spoon which I used instead (and when that didn’t go fast enough, an over-sized glass tumbler to mash it through the strainer). While it gave me the desired effect, it did take forever to do and, unfortunately, I think that simply mashing the potato wouldn’t give you the consistency needed for the dough. Next time, I’m using my Salad Shooter (yes, I own one…  Don’t judge) or a regular cheese grater since I realized that would be faster and as effective after it was too late for me to do anything about it. Second issue was that, after adding all of it together, I added either too much flour or used too little sweet potato. I added water to help get the dough to the right consistency, but in hindsight, I’ll probably go with more like 1.5 pounds of sweet potato as opposed to 1 pound. Sweet potato is easy to store and freeze and I think the flavor is only helped by adding more sweet potato instead of water. But that said, even with water added, the sweet potato flavor was very pronounced and utterly delicious. For those who don’t have truffle oil, simply use another infused oil that compliments sweet potatoes, olive oil, or just leave it out.  While the truffle oil does give a nice hint of flavor, it’s not something you need. I’d probably make it without next time. I also have to plead guilty to the fact that by the time I got to the 4th or 5th portion of the dough, I was tired (did I mention I’m still sick?) so my cutting of the gnocchi wasn’t as uniform as it could have been… It certainly didn’t look like Artist Point and it won’t go down as the prettiest dish I’ve ever made (I thought it looked like little orange scallops), but holy cow, did it taste awesome. I love the buttery sweetness of the drizzle and the sweet potato flavor, which I was worried would be lost behind the butter, was perfect. Maybe I’d add less butter next time, and I’d certainly try harder to make it look nicer, but other then that, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m even tempted to add this to my Thanksgiving dinner… And, a special note for my sister (and anybody else who cares)… This freezes beautifully. Freeze it in a boil-safe bag and then, when it’s time to eat, drop the bag in boiling water, make and add the butter when you’re ready to serve, and you’re done. In addition to the delicious food and recipes, Disney World is also known for its unique dining experiences, such as character dining and themed restaurants. Whether you want to have breakfast with Mickey Mouse, dine in a replica of a sci-fi drive-in theater at Hollywood Studios, or enjoy a meal with an ocean view at the Coral Reef Restaurant in Epcot, there's something for everyone. And with the help of Recipes Today and the How to Make category, you can even recreate some of these magical dining experiences in your own home. So why not start planning your next Disney-inspired meal or dining experience today? Read the full article

[ddejavvu]

Team Building - Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

WC: 6.3K / navi / preview / gif creds to @shyhotch, i miss you meg :(

Summary: Hotch whisks you away for a team-building session after you reveal to him that your short time at the BAU hasn't been quite enough to assimilate you into the group. You have a wonderful time, you're just confused as to why he leaves the rest of your team behind.

Contents/Warnings: bau!reader, mutual pining!! lots of puppy love ooey gooey mushy pining for each other, a few sexual innuendos/mentions, rossi is stingy, typical cm case contents

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

In your short time working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, you’d learned two things:

Never, ever touch Reid’s coffee mug.

Aaron Hotchner is intimidating as fuck.

You lived by these principles; they helped you navigate your work life. You’d carefully avoided the topic of the first one just this morning, quickly putting the mug back in the cabinet when you’d seen the label on it and pretending that you hadn’t touched it at all. Thankfully, the young genius didn’t seem to notice.

But the second one wasn’t so easily avoidable. Your Unit Chief was surly, stubborn, and vigilant, which meant that any little mistake you made put you on thin ice, especially as a newer agent. And that wasn’t to say that he was awful 100% of the time. He joked, he laughed, he smiled, just sparingly. His more common exterior was hardened and cool, which made it tough for you to relax around him sometimes, even knowing that he broke his facade occasionally.

Now was no different. All you were doing was sitting next to him in the van, and he was freaking you out. His commonly-donned suit was fitted tight to his body, and he sat rigid in his seat, never relaxing for a second. You understood the tension, you really did, because you’d just wrapped up a case with a rather unfortunate ending, but you couldn’t understand how he could remain so stoic all the time. You yourself were slumped against the window, the cool glass doing wonders for your heated cheeks.

You told yourself that you were burning up because of the stuffy van, or because you were frustrated over the case you’d just finished. It was local, too, which was a grim reminder that terrible things happened everywhere, even at home. But in reality, you were pretty sure it was because you were sitting close enough to Hotch to smell him.

Equal parts, in fact, attracted to him and afraid of him. That was often the space where horniness brewed. 

You couldn’t say that you were feeling the result of combining those two emotions now, though. You were more silently suffering beside him now than you were fantasizing about his large, calloused hands wrapped around your―

You couldn’t say that you were feeling the result of combining those two emotions now, though. You were more silently suffering beside him now than you were fantasizing about his large, calloused hands wrapped around your―

“Y/L/N,” You blinked bewilderedly at the sound of Hotch’s voice, looking dazedly at him as he gestured to the door, “We’re here.”

“Oh,” You mumbled, your cheeks flaring once again, “I’m sorry, I-”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Hotch let a miniscule, exhausted smile creep over his face, “We’re all a little out of it right now.”

You hummed along in agreement, pulling the latch on the car door and stepping onto the rain-soaked ground. It had mostly stopped raining since you started driving, the only thing coming down being a light drizzle that you avoided by keeping a hand hovering above your eyes.

“I booked us for eight,” Garcia stuck by Morgan’s side as they stepped out of the second van, ensuring a seat beside him, “I thought we could treat ourselves tonight, y’know?”

You peered up at the dimly lit neon sign for the gourmet restaurant that Penelope had chosen, your work attire perfectly suited for the formal dress code. You filed through the door one by one, relishing in the slightly warm, cozy atmosphere of the restaurant.

Hotch held the door for you all, and stepped in just behind you, the last one to enter the restaurant. JJ was already speaking to the hostess, giving them your reservation information. You watched her brow furrow as she turned, her eyes scanning the eight of you before she turned back to the hostess and replied.

It seemed like troubling news, whatever it was that they were talking about. You simply shifted your weight between feet while you waited, your shoulder brushing against Hotch’s gently.

“Sorry.” You turned, edging away from him on the tiled floor so that you wouldn’t bump into him again.

“It’s fine,” He murmured, his hand pressing comfortingly into the small of your back for a split second as you steadied yourself, “Don’t worry about it.”

His voice was arguably more soothing and beautiful than the violin music coming from the speakers. You didn’t usually have the pleasure of hearing him outside of the office, and his work voice contrasted starkly with what you’d just heard. There was no tension, no professional lining to it, it was smooth, and low, and soft.

The feeling of his hand on your back nearly took you out, your head practically spinning as you tried focusing on JJ when she turned to face you all.

“They’re splitting us up,” She started, a sympathetic grimace on her face, “They’ve only got two tables, one for five and one for two. They said we could stick an extra chair at the one for five, but two of us are gonna have to eat separately.”

You watched everyone look awkwardly around, silently praying for someone else to take one for the team. Take two for the team, you supposed.

“I’ll go,” You stepped forward, drawing everyone’s attention, “You guys enjoy your meal together!”

You didn’t feel unwelcome at the Bureau, by any means. But the rest of the team had worked together for significantly longer than you had, and you would feel bad sticking with them while their older friends had to eat elsewhere. You didn’t mind sitting one dinner out, especially if you’d get to eat some of the food that you saw being carted around.

There was a palpable release of tension at your volunteering, a few people sending you appreciatively sympathetic smiles, though there was still the matter of who’d be dining with you. 

You half hoped for Prentiss or Garcia, though you were sure that the latter wouldn’t dare leave Morgan’s side unless it was absolutely necessary. You mulled over the thought of dining with Reid, though you weren’t sure you’d be able to listen to him with the proper attention that he deserved, you were practically falling asleep standing up.

Before you could run through any other possible eating arrangements, that same smooth voice came from behind you, “I’ll join you, Y/L/N.”

You were almost certain that a few of your team members caught the way that your eyes widened a fraction. You turned tentatively to face Hotch, nodding and returning the half-smile that he sent your way.

“Right, well now that we’re all settled,” Prentiss smiled at you, nodding again in thanks, “Let’s eat, I’m starving.”

You joined the group as they were led to their table, hovering awkwardly beside it while the waiter got them situated. You felt Hotch’s presence behind you, intimidating even in silence and out of sight, but soon enough your waiter was leading you to your own table.

The table for two was just as romantically-undertoned as you’d expected it to be. Candles stood tall and flickering between the two plates, and a single rose rested in a vase between them. You felt your legs threaten to give out as you sat down, your brain overanalyzing the way that Hotch pulled your chair out for you.

You busied yourself with your napkin, spreading it over your lap while Hotch sat. You weren’t sure if you’d have been able to stand the sight of his hands gripping the back of the chair, or the way that his pants hugged his thighs as they flexed when he sat.

“We’ll be back to take your orders in a bit, but could we get you started with any drinks?” The waiter hovered beside your table, pen and paper in hand as he looked between the two of you.

“I’ll just have a water,” You started, smiling gratefully at the waiter, “Thank you.”

“The same for me, please.” Hotch folded his hands together on the table, his watch glinting in the low lights of the restaurant, “Thanks.”

The waiter nodded, hurrying off to fulfill whatever orders he needed to bring out next. You glanced around at the floral patterns lining the accent wall of the restaurant, taking your blissfully granted opportunity to look at anything but the man across from you.

“Just water?” Hotch spoke after a moment, his eyes tracking you as you snapped back to attention.

“I’m not really in the mood for much else,” You hummed, “And you?”

“The only other thing I’m in the mood for is alcohol, and I don’t think they serve what I need here.” He cracked one of his rare jokes, a soft smile spreading over his face when you laughed.

“Tonight was tough,” You regretted bringing down the mood at the table, but you weren’t sure what else to say, “I think I’d agree with you that nothing they have here is hard enough.”

The waiter had sidled back over to your table by then, setting your waters down and giving you something to do.

Hotch took a sip of his and you pointedly avoided watching him, but you saw him nod at your words.

“I’m just glad we all made it out of there alive.”

You tried to take his words at face value, ‘we all’ meaning you and your team, but you couldn’t help but think of the unsub’s final victim, shot in the crossfires of the man’s takedown. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to forget watching her lifeless body fall to the ground any time soon. Not all of you had made it out of there alive, and you couldn’t help but blame yourself.

If you had just been faster; better at negotiation, perhaps? You were sure that there was a way to have gotten her out of there before she was killed, and it was disheartening to know that you’d failed her.

“Y/N?” For the second time that evening, Hotch’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. You realized that your grip on the glass had tightened slightly, your fingers pressed against the dewy cup until condensation ran down your wrist.

“Sorry,” You mumbled feebly, your cheeks growing hot as you registered his switch from your last name to your first, “I just- I was thinking about her.”

His face dimmed, and you regretted making the light leave his eyes.

“I am too,” He admitted, “Just don’t blame yourself.”

“But we-”

“Couldn’t have done anything.” Hotch didn’t even let you finish your sentence, giving you a knowing look, “Guilt like that will tear you apart. It gets easier with time, and this is one of your first, so I know it’s a lot. But I- uh, we are here to help, if you need it. Okay?”

His rather impromptu speech seemed to have drained him, his chest heaving with a long exhale when he stopped talking. Your eyes had widened slightly, and you nodded hesitantly at his words.

“Thank you, Hotch.”

“We’re not at work, Y/N,” He seemed relieved that you’d taken his advice, a gentle smile spreading over his face, “You can call me Aaron.”

“Thank you, Aaron.” You corrected yourself, sending him a similar smile as you sipped from your glass, your heart fluttering as his only widened.

“We should figure out what we want,” Aaron suggested, reaching for the menu that was set atop his plate, “It’s been a while since I ate here last.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been,” You mused, thumbing carefully through your own menu, “I haven’t really been out to eat much since moving here.”

Aaron let out a sympathetic hum at your words, “I’ve been living here for years and I still haven’t been out to eat much.”

You let out a short chuckle, your eyes skimming the seafood section of your menu, “Well, maybe if you left the office before eleven every once in a while, you’d have more dinner opportunities.’

“Maybe,” Aaron hid his wistful smile behind his menu, “But how do you know I never leave before eleven?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to stop your bashful grin from spreading, “Well, okay, maybe I should leave earlier too.”

“Definitely,” He nodded, “It’s your first year on the job and you’re already trying to rival my hours.”

“I could never steal your title as reigning workaholic,” You teased, adoring the beautiful grin that seemed permanently affixed to Aaron’s lips now, “I think I’d work myself to death trying.”

He looked down at his menu once more, not to figure out what he wanted, but to keep the fondness he knew was brewing in his gaze out of sight. He could feel the rest of the team staring at the two of you, and he knew that he was acting more open now than he usually ever was with them. It was bound to raise questions.

“Have you two had time to look at the menu?” The waiter came back, asking despite seeing the menus in both of your hands. You nodded, handing them over as he jotted down your orders. The food was expensive, you knew the bill would be large, but Rossi had volunteered to pick up the tab (before he knew where you were going), and you weren’t going to let him take back his poorly timed generosity now.

The waiter left with your orders and your menu, leaving you and Hotch to pick up conversation again. You hoped to steer it away from your jobs, the topic all-too-familiar, and into something that might let you know more about your Unit Chief as a person.

“How’s Jack doing?” It was a good start, apparently, if the widening of Aaron’s smile was anything to go by.

“Good,” He glanced at his phone, and you knew that if he’d tapped the screen a picture of his son would come up, “He wants me to bring him back a book, even though this one was local. We have a little tradition, every time I miss reading him a bedtime story. I have to pick one up from wherever we are. I told him I’ll be home tonight, but I think he went to bed early just to weasel another book out of me.”

“Oh,” You gushed, “That’s adorable! What kind of books does he like to read?”

“We’re in the middle of the Magic Treehouse series right now.” Aaron reached into his suit jacket, rifling through a plastic bag that was tucked inside and flashing the cover for #64, “We’re only on number thirteen, but I miss a lot of bedtime stories.”

You hummed sympathetically, “I’m sure he’s happy when you do get to read them.” “He is,” Aaron smiled softly, images of his sleepy son asking him for one more chapter flashing through his head, “He doesn’t let anyone else read them to him. Just me.”

You cooed at the admission, watching Aaron’s cheeks tinge just the slightest bit pink. You caught Prentiss’s eye from across the room, her own blown wide open as she gestured frantically between you and Hotch.

You looked away as if you hadn’t seen her, not wanting to ruin the moment you’d gotten yourself into with Aaron.

“What about you? Are you a big reader?” Hotch raised an eyebrow, taking another sip from his drink. 

“Well I’ve advanced a bit past the Magic Treehouse series,” You joked, “But yeah, I usually read on the jet.”

“I’ve noticed,” Aaron admitted, not missing the way your eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the thought of him watching you, “Sometimes I can’t even see your face behind the book you’re reading.”

“I just get into it,” You groaned sheepishly, “They’re good books!”

“I’m sure.” Aaron hummed into his glass, the water level dwindling as he glanced around the restaurant. 

--

By the time you’d gotten your food, you’d received twelve texts. Six from Penelope, three of which had some form of sexual innuendo about them, two from Prentiss, who demanded that you reveal your true feelings over your accidental candlelight dinner, one from JJ, asking you if the bread at your table was as dry as it was at theirs, one from Rossi who had mispelled several words in asking if you were ‘comsiderig tbis a datw’, and finally, one from Reid, complete gibberish which he’d accidentally typed while the phone was in his pocket.

You ignored all but Penelope’s, knowing that she’d come over to your table and talk to you herself, right then and there, if you didn’t answer.

Shut up, you typed, your fingers tapping the screen below your table so as not to look rude, If you guys ruin this for me I’ll ruin you.

You watched with disdain as Penelope handed her phone to Derek, the two giggling at your message before Derek typed back.

Someone’s real defensive ;) - D

Just stop looking at me like you expect me to strip for him right here, I can’t-

“How was your food?” Hotch raised an eyebrow, watching your gaze shoot up to meet his in surprise. He let out an apologetic, ‘oh,’ shaking his head slightly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No problem,” You locked your phone eagerly, happy to not have to carry on conversation with the other table anymore, stuffing it in your pocket, “It wasn’t important.”

You would have been content to continue your casual conversation with the man, but his eyes lingered on you, the flickering candlelight between you reflected in his discerning gaze.

“Y/N,” He started, a hint of something you’d never heard (uncertainty?) in his voice, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” You hoped that the way your voice shook was just in your head, because the simple question had your stomach in knots, “Ask away.”

“Why did you volunteer to sit here so fast?”

“What?”

“When we got the news that we needed to split,” Aaron gestured back to the hostess stand, “You stepped up almost immediately. Why was that?”

You knew you wouldn’t be able to lie to a profiler, let alone a seasoned one like Hotch. But you tried anyways, letting a smile that didn’t reach your eyes cross your face as you joked, “I just wanted to get things moving along so we could eat faster.”

He hummed in acknowledgement of your answer, but not in acceptance. He took another long sip of his now-refilled water, speaking again after licking his lips softly.

“What you said back there: ‘You guys enjoy your meal together?’”

“What about it?” Your brow furrowed as Hotch quoted you, uncertainty brewing in the pit of your stomach as he kept his eyes locked on you.

“You weren’t taking one for the team, Y/N. You were excluding yourself. Why?”

“I don’t- I don’t really think that-”

“Please be honest with me.” Hotch murmured, his own brows dipping as he watched your reactions to his questions, “I’d like to know what your reasoning was. It’s important to me.”

Another lie was on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill from your lips, but Hotch’s concerned eyes seemed to melt your stubbornness away, and you sighed inaudibly.

“I felt like they’d enjoy a meal together more than if I was there. They’ve known each other for way longer than they’ve known me, it makes sense for me to duck out first.”

Hotch finally seemed to take your answer as the truth, which was good, because you’d never been more honest with the man. His face was set in his usual neutral frown, but his lips shifted miniscully as he monitored your confession.

“I- I know I’m welcome here,” You felt as though you needed to contribute more to the discussion, him having fallen silent and leaving an awkward air behind, “I just thought that I’d let everyone else have their dinner together.”

Before you’d even said the last word, the waiter had come by with your check. Apparently the other table was taking longer, even though Rossi had forbade anyone from ordering dessert and lengthening the bill.

“Thank you,” Aaron broke out of his trance, his eyes leaving yours for the first time in minutes as he slid his card into the folder, “The food was excellent.”

“Hotch,” You murmured, forgoing his first name after your conversation had taken such an intimate turn, “Rossi said-”

“I’d like to pay for tonight.” He stated simply, handing the waiter back your bill, “Would you return the card to that table? We need to leave rather urgently.” Hotch gestured between the two of you, and your heart sunk. Were you terrible enough company for him to want to rush out like this? How awful had your admission been to drive him away?

Tears stung at your eyes and you ducked your head to hide them from Hotch, though you knew he saw them anyways. The waiter frowned at the odd request, but ultimately complied, leaving your table once more to charge the card.

Hotch stood abruptly, readjusting his suit jacket on his shoulders and subsequently rustling the plastic bag inside. You made to stand up by yourself, but Hotch circled the table, gripping the arms of your chair and gently pulling you out from the table. He laid a hand on your arm, guiding you up and out of the chair, then the same hand flew once more to the small of your back.

You tensed at the contact, and you knew he felt it. But he didn’t back down, waving subtly at the rest of your team and leading you out the front doors of the building.

You followed him without protest, walking side by side through the parking lot. His hand never left its comforting position on your lower back, even though the mood of the situation was less-than-pleasant.

You felt anxiety churning your stomach as he stepped up to the van, unlocking the doors and holding the passenger’s side open for you.

“Hop in,” He offered at your hesitant gaze, “We’re going team building.”

“Team building?”

“Team building.” He confirmed, offering no further explanation, “In.”

You climbed into the van, sliding your seatbelt over your chest and thanking him softly when he went to shut the door for you. You felt your phone vibrate relentlessly in your pocket, probably another round of texts from everyone wondering if you were boning your boss in the government vehicle. Hotch rounded the front of the van in seconds, stepping up into the driver’s side seat and starting up the car.

“Dessert preference?” He adjusted his mirrors, not bothering to look you in your (very confused) eyes.

“Wh- what?”

“What do you want for dessert?” He finally glanced over at you, “We’re stopping by a bakery.”

“Oh, Hotch, you don’t have to-” You cut yourself off at his stern gaze, not sure whether it was because you’d called him ‘Hotch’ or because you were protesting his actions. Probably a bit of both, so you swallowed, starting again, “What do they have?”

“A bunch,” Aaron glanced behind him, stretching a hand to rest on the back of your seat as he turned, backing out of the spot with his free hand, “I usually get a muffin.”

“That sounds good,” You hummed, trying to focus on anything but the soft bulge of his muscles from under his shirt, “Um, Aaron?”

He seemed much more pleased once you addressed him the way he’d asked, turning to face you with a soft smile, “Yes?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?” His smile never fell, traces of amusement lingering as it dimmed.

“This,” You gestured to the road he’d started on, “Why did we leave the restaurant?”

“Because we were finished eating.” He spoke plainly, “That’s what you do once you pay the check.”

“That’s not what I mean,” You let out an exasperated but lighthearted scoff, a small smile creeping over your lips, “I mean, why did we ditch everyone and drive to a bakery at eight at night?”

“Oh,” Aaron feigned surprise, “That.”

“Yes that,” You let out a breathy laugh, “Is there a reason you abducted me?”

“Abducted,” Aaron scoffed, shaking his head as his smile turned fond, “I told you. Team building.”

“Well we left our team back there.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to tell them what you told me.” Aaron’s voice became softer, more sincerity coating it rather than its previously-contained sarcasm.

“So that’s why you’re doing this?”

“Yes.” He nodded once, “I’m glad that you don’t feel unwelcome with us, but if you still think that you’re the odd one out, you clearly haven’t spent enough time with us outside of the office.”

“That’s not- I don’t think I’m the odd one out!” You protested weakly, “I’m just the newest.”

“But that doesn’t mean you’re the least desirable.” Aaron glanced over at you carefully from the driver’s seat, “It’s important to me that this team feels like one. And if you’re not feeling that a hundred percent, I’m going to do something about it.”

His sincere concern for you left more butterflies swarming around your stomach than you’d have liked to admit. You wished so desperately that you could turn off your attraction to him, that you could take his words at face value and treat him like your boss. But there was always the desire for something more hidden deep inside of you, and it crawled further and further towards the light the more he expressed such gentle care for you.

You leaned to the left slightly as he turned the van rather sharply, and his hand shot out to rest on your thigh.

“You okay?” He murmured, his brows furrowed in concern.

“I’m good,” You answered honestly, your eyes locked onto the way that his hand dug slightly into your thigh, “I’m good.”

“Good.” He parroted you, a satisfied smile adorning his features.

When he finally pulled into the bakery’s parking lot, the dimly lit sign flickered with age. It was a little hole-in-the-wall place, shelves lining the walls of different baked goods that looked a thousand times better than any tiny portion you’d have gotten at the restaurant you’d eaten at.

Aaron gestured subtly to the rack of muffins, “That’s what I usually get. But you’re welcome to anything, Y/N.”

Your eyes skimmed over the prices listed on the display cases, flickering away from items whenever the first digit went over 5. You felt in your pocket, making sure that you still had your spare $5 that you’d stuck in there after lunch that day. Finally you decided on a chocolate croissant, smiling kindly at the woman behind the counter as you ordered.

“And a chocolate muffin, please.” Aaron was suddenly right behind you, that comforting touch of his hand on your lower back again, “Thank you.”

You didn’t dare turn, having heard his voice from right beside your head. You weren't sure what you'd do if you made eye contact with him while your faces were that close, but you knew you wouldn't be able to control yourself. If he felt you tense once more at his touch, he didn’t let on, standing confidently behind you at the counter as he waited for the woman ringing you up to be finished.

Your total came out to be less than $5, and you jumped at the chance to repay one of Aaron’s many favors towards you that night. Before you could so much as touch the bill that laid in your pocket, though, Aaron was sliding another card over the counter and handing it to the woman.

“Aaron-” You started, “Please let me pay for this.”

“Not neccessary,” He brushed you off, pushing your hand away when you offered up your cash, “This was my idea, I’ll cover the tab.”

You wanted to protest more, to insist that he let you pay, but you would have caused a scene, and you didn’t want to inflict that upon the poor employee. Instead you merely frowned, nodding in agreement and thanks.

You took the bag that the woman handed you, the brown paper wrinkling under your touch. You could feel the heat from the pastries inside, and even though you’d just eaten, your stomach twisted eagerly at the thought of a warm, gooey chocolate croissant. 

Aaron slipped his card back into his wallet, his hand returning to its now permanent place against your back. His touch was electrifying, burning through the layers of clothing you had on and searing your skin.

You wished that the night hadn’t been as chilly as it was, because when he removed his hand to open the door for you, you felt a chill. You tried to commit the feeling of his hand pressing flush against your back to your memory, ashamed as you admitted to yourself that you’d spend many a night trying to relive the scenario.

You set the bag of warm pastries in your lap, thanking Aaron softly as he helped you get settled again. His attentiveness hadn’t gone unnoticed by you, and you couldn’t help but read further into it than you should have. The attraction that had been swelling in your chest since the moment you laid eyes on the man was starting to surface, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain it if he touched you any more than he already had.

He stepped up into the van with the same confidence he had before, settling himself in his seat but waiting to shut his door. 

He slid his suit jacket off of his shoulders, eyeing your sheer blouse, “You cold?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, your jaw tensing before you stammered, “Only a little, but I don’t-” 

Before you could finish your feeble protests he had spread out the jacket, twisting his arms in what was probably a very uncomfortable gesture to lower the fabric over your shoulders. The faint scent that you had caught being sat beside him earlier was nothing compared to the smell that enveloped you as the fabric of his jacket clung to your shoulders, cozy and inviting, faintly husky.

Without meaning to, you shrunk into the jacket, relishing in what would probably be the closest you’d ever get to hugging the man. 

He watched you with that same hint of fondness he’d displayed in the restaurant, finally shutting his door and keeping the cold out. You thanked him softly, biting your lips to contain your overjoyed smile at the advances you were determined to look too far into.

“It’s no problem, Y/N.” His voice, just as low as it normally was, created a completely different atmosphere than it typically did, warming your heart instead of chilling it. While he was usually intimidating and cold, the affection dripping from his sincere smile made you genuinely forget what he looked like when he was stoic.

It was a beautiful expression on him, happiness. You wished that you could see it all the time, that his work didn’t suck so much joy out of his life, but you made a mental note to ask him about Jack more, because the same emotions lit up his face at the mention of his son.

You realized you’d been staring at him for way too long, clearing your throat lightly. Your eyes were locked onto his own, and you must have had some delusional lapse of coherency, because you could have sworn that his eyes had flickered down to your lips for a split second. But you had to be imagining things.

He reached forward, and your chest tightened. You swallowed lightly, preparing yourself for whatever impossible scenario was about to happen, but his hand only curled around the bakery bag, unfurling the crinkled paper.

You cursed yourself for being so hopelessly romantic, watching as he reached in, his muffin and your croissant in the same large hand.

“Here,” He handed you your pastry, “We’re eating in the car.”

“Isn’t that a bit unprofessional?” You teased, priding yourself on your steady voice.

“That’s the point.” He grinned, breaking off a piece of his muffin and popping it into his mouth, speaking delicately around the treat, “We have to be unprofessional together if we want to work well professionally.”

It was a sensible statement, it really was. But your mind began wandering to all of the other unprofessional things that you two could do together, Derek and Penelope’s teasing far too accurate to what ran rampant in your brain.

You took a bite of your croissant to give you something to do, to fill your mouth so that none of the words on the tip of your tongue could fall out and embarrass you.

You hummed softly at the warm pastry, the taste of chocolate fresh on your tongue, “‘S good.”

“Mine too,” Aaron agreed, leaning his seat back so that he was all but laying down, “Y’wanna open the sunroof? We can look out at the stars.”

You couldn’t help but scoff incredulously, an amused smile on your face, “Where did this come from?”

“What are you talking about?”

“This,” You gestured to him lounging in his government vehicle, munching on a warm chocolate muffin far too late into the night, “What happened to you? Is it the jacket?” You brushed a hand against the fabric over your frame, “When you take it off, does it break some grumpy spell you’ve had cast over you by a mean old witch? You’re a completely different person than I’ve ever seen you!”

He laughed, long and loud and free at your accusations, his eyes crinkling at the corners as chocolate stained his lower lip, “That’s why we need to do this, Y/N. We need to know each other outside of the office, or else we won’t know each other at all.”

You smiled, shaking your head teasingly at his words. This was a side of Aaron Hotchner that you liked, one that didn’t make you want to shrivel under his gaze and apologize for something that you didn’t do.

“This is not what I had expected of tonight,” You admitted, rolling back the sunroof and reclining your own seat, “I thought you were gonna fire me or something.”

“What?”

“Well, I mean, you ran us out of that restaurant like it was rigged to blow!” You urged, eyes wide as you swiped chocolate off of your cheek, “I admitted I didn’t feel like one of the team quite yet and I thought you were gonna ensure that I never would be!”

He let out another one of his laughs, the sound quickly climbing your list of favorites, “I wouldn’t fire you for that. But, I mean, are you enjoying this? Even if it’s not what you’d expected?”

You wanted to gush, to tell him that it was the best night you’d had since moving to Virginia, profess your undying love for the man right then and there. But you caught yourself before you could, your tongue digging at your bottom lip to rid it of chocolate stains, and you spoke carefully and sincerely instead.

“I’m enjoying it. Thank you, Aaron,” His name felt comfortable on your tongue now, instead of foreign, “I really appreciate this. I was nervous, y’know. To tell you. Because I don’t even think I’d admitted it to myself, I.. I was kind of just trying to pretend. Fake it ‘till you make it, y’know?”

He nodded, his eyes drifting to the open sunroof above you and trailing after each star that he could see, “I know what you mean. But I’m glad you’re having a good time, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up until now,” A frown threatened to take over his beautiful smile, and it tugged at your heartstrings, “But you’re just as valuable as anyone else on our team, whether we’ve known your for minutes, for days, or for years.”

His sweet sentiment, murmured in that beautifully low, soothing voice of his, had you containing yet another massive smile. This time you let it break free, though, not even bothering to hide it behind your croissant as you turned to catch his eye.

“Thank you, Aaron, again.”

“Anytime,” He hummed, “You can tell me, you know? If things don’t feel right.”

What didn’t feel right was that you weren’t in his arms. He wasn’t holding you, he wasn’t kissing you, he wasn’t loving you. But you shook those desires away, nodding thankfully.

“I will,” You weren’t sure if you’d keep that vow, the threat of annoying him with your mediocre feelings scarier to you than feeling out of place. But you placated him with promises anyways, so that he settled back into his seat, his muffin nearly gone.

“Favorite star?” He asked, breaking a moment of silence.

“I- I don’t have one,” You hesitated, frowning slightly, “Do you?”

“No,” He admitted, a light blush dusting his cheeks as they raised into a bashful grin, “I don’t know why I asked.”

You laughed, the sound lighting up his expression just like his had done to you, “You don’t have to make conversation if you don’t have anything to say,” You chided him, “I’m perfectly happy to sit in silence for a bit.”

“You are?” He glanced over at you, something hesitant lingering behind his eyes.

“Of course!” You took another bite of your croissant, careful not to get crumbs on the jacket still draped over you, “This is nice.”

“It is.” A wistful smile broke out over Aaron’s face, and he tore his eyes away from you before he could do anything rash, “Thank you for opening up to me, Y/N.”

“Thank you for joining me tonight,” Your words held more behind them than you hoped Aaron perceived, “I’m glad it was you.”

You were too busy staring at the stars to watch him react to what you’d said, so you missed his eyes darting to your cozy figure, curled up on the seat in his jacket with your croissant in your hands. He admired you for longer than he’d like to admit, his eyes raking down your form and back up again, drinking in the sight of you in his jacket.

“Me too, Y/N,” He murmured, turning back to the stars, “Me too.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

A/N: i hope you enjoyed!! i've actually got a multi-chaptered hotch x bau!reader story in the works, and i might tweak this and add it in as a chapter. but for now, it's a standalone!

taglist: @sunflowermotel @honeybrowne @red-red-rogue