#on their last before they can re-ascend

[heymeowmao]

尘缘 | Divine Destiny E6 ° No matter how hard the path is, I will never leave.

[the-flaneur]

lights, camera...cook? (mv1) | pt2

pairing: max verstappen x east asian twitch chef!reader [smau]

summary: max does not know how to cook. luckily, his next-door neighbour and resident internet chef might be able to help him out of his pickle. quite literally.

warnings: none (i think)

wc: 1716 + social media posts

a/n: thank you for all the support and love for pt1 ❤️ - hopefully pt2 is just as entertaining :)

additional pic creds: toka (youtube)

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-> twitch, cooking mommy

-> twitter

-> irl

“Mate, are you sure we’re supposed to get up at 6am to meet her? I need to sleep,” Lando whines over the phone, as Max rolls his eyes.

“She’s giving you the opportunity to eat at a Michelin star restaurant and you’re saying no,” Max snaps back, toying with Sassy, who’s climbed onto his lap from his gaming desk.

“Well count me in. Alexandra’s been pestering me to ask you if she could visit the restaurant and meet her as well. She’s a massive fan already,” Charles grins as Alexandra laughs at his quip

“When we all meet her,” Max says, “you can ask her. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“Fine I’ll go then. Meet at the restaurant?” Lando groans.

☆

In the early dawn of the crisp December day, there were very few passerbys on the street. Those that were there, their eyes lingered on the small group standing at the entrance to Le Louis XV. It was Max, Lando and Charles, standing awkwardly and awaiting your arrival. 

You and Max had been exchanging a multitude of texts, ranging from cat pics to his maxplaining of F1 technicalities to the best recipes for homemade stroopwafel. Max would even say (hopefully), that the two of you had even begun delving into the domain of flirty friends, with your quick wit and humour, a complement to Max’s deadpan yet very humorous attitude. 

You had mentioned off-handedly wanting to meet Max in real life. It had gone on throughout the entire week, before you had invited him out to lunch at Le Louis XV. 

At first he was ready to excitedly accept your invitation; he had never actually met you in real life and really wanted to talk to you about you. But when he had stopped and actually re-read your message, his doubts about your intentions began creeping in.

What if you were only there to help him cook? What if he had taken it the wrong way? What if you didn’t actually like him, like he thought? Just wanting to be friends? What i-

Max, he chided, you’re being ridiculous. But just for good measure, he surmised, he invited Charles and Lando too. And that’s how he dragged them both (well only Lando, Charles had come quite willingly) out to a lunch “date” with the four of you.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, the babies refused to let me leave this morning,” you yelled as you ran up to the group. 

Max was in awe.

You were gorgeous. He had already seen your pictures on your Instagram and on Twitch, but you were a real knockout in real life. Not in like the high-end supermodel way (although Max would’ve loved to see you grace the cover of a magazine if he was a horny teenager), but in the way which it felt like you were an angel on Earth, delicate and pretty, and a smile as innocent as-

“FUCK!” you swore, accidentally stumbling down the last step before the restaurant’s entrance. Max rushed forward to catch you and your bags, as they went flying towards the group. As he caught you in his arms, you looked up at him and grinned. 

“Did I fall for you?” you laughed, allowing Max to push you back up as you graciously took your bags back from him and gave him a tight hug.

“Hi Maxie. Hello Charles and Lando, nice to finally meet you! Max has loves to talk about you guys-” 

“Hi,” Max blushed at the nickname, avoiding the smirking glances of Charles and Lando as they watched that interaction. Charles and Lando quickly shook your proffered hand, before trailing behind you as you unlocked the door to the restaurant.

The intense decadent and luxury was not lost on the three, as you ascend the gilded ornate stairs. The walls were lined with classical paintings, china and candles; the Le Louis XV was truly a stark contrast of the modest personality of its namesake, instead harkening back to his predecessor, Louis XIV. Afterall, one must live according to la dolce vita.

As you began rambling on about the history and position of the restaurant in the heart of Monaco, from beside you, Max stared longingly. You were literally perfect, a great cook, funny, witty, a great conversationalist and listener, and a cat lover: what more could he want in someone?

“He’s never going to stop talking about her, is he?” Charles laughs, watching the two of you converse intensely about the climate and geography of Monaco and its food production. 

“No way mate,” Lando smiles, watching you blush at Max’s comments.

☆

“I’ve just prepared a small meal for us. It’s a bit more difficult deciding what to cook for three F1 drivers, considering our usual guests,” you smiled, pushing over a series of dishes on a cart. Their eyes bulged out when they saw your “small meal”, which actually consisted of at least eight different kinds of cheese, six starters and seven mains and a tiered display of an assortment of desserts, no less.

“Max already warned me about your…distaste for fish, Lando. So don't worry about the fish-looking dishes. They’re definitely not what you think they taste. Like this one is actually veal grilled with chard and girolle mushroom,” you gestured towards a gorgeous dish, plated with golden mushrooms and deep maroon chard. 

“Now enjoy the cooking of Le Louis XV!”  

The three men could definitely see why you were the executive chef of the three Michelin star restaurant. Between quiet conversation about everything and anything, every bite was desired and savoured, the flavours exploding on the tongue or simply melting off the dish.

The cheeses were flavoursome, some creamy and others intense, but all gorgeous with a pairing of wine (or gin and tonic in Max’s case). The starters and mains were all cooked to perfection, tender yet firm, and packed intensely full of rich aromatics and spices. The desserts were truly the cherry on top, light and fluffy, beautifully contrasting the mains.

The conversation quickly turned to you, with Lando and Charles interrogating about your life, career and everything in between. Max had tried to stop them from grilling you too much, but you seemed to enjoy all the questions, answering each one with a laugh and a smile. You were not starstruck by the trio, but appreciated their deep friendship and care for one another, especially as they asked about you and Max. You enjoyed the company of people who genuinely seemed to like you and your cooking, and it was one of the happier lunches at the restaurant in the past year.

Your mind wandered off as the three began talking about the upcoming 2024 F1 season (despite it still being another three months away). Although you and Max had not said anything yet, you knew there was a deeper connection just waiting to blossom.

It was just a matter of time.

☆

“It was lovely meeting you two today, hopefully we can catch up soon enough. I’ll message Alex for a lunch date Charles,” you promised, gifting them both a small boxed cake, before heading off with Max.

“Now to your apartment, my lady?” Max joked, as you started to enter your address in his GPS. Although he knew Monaco like the back of his hand, he didn’t want to accidentally drop you off on the other side of the country (even if he wanted to spend more time with you).

A small ding alerted Max’s attention back to you, and his eyebrow furrowed when he read the display on the screen.

“DESTINATION: HOME”

“You live here?” you both turned to each other, surprised. Max had no idea that you lived in the same building as he did, while you were surprised that you hadn’t already recognised the view from Max’s apartment in his streams and photos. 

“When did you move in? I swear I’ve never seen you before,” Max asked, slowly pulling away from the curb and back onto the road.

“Well I trained in Lyon for three years, then I moved to Marseille for six months before I visited Monaco. My father’s old friend Ducasse then asked in 2018, if I wanted to become his apprentice at the restaurant, and train to become the executive chef eventually. So I left and moved to Monaco in 2019,”

“And you’ve been living and working here ever since?” Max sighed. If only he had maybe stepped outside his apartment more than three times excluding the F1 season, he could’ve met you a lot sooner.

☆

Entering the elevator, you and Max both moved to press your apartment number on the panel, your fingers brushing against each other as you pressed adjacent buttons. You quickly tore your hand away, hiding it behind your pants, as the elevator began to move upwards.

“What a coincidence that we live beside each other,” you awkwardly laughed, staring at yourself in the mirror. The elevator was once again filled with quiet silence, as the elevator near the top.

“Hey…”

“Max…”

“Oh you go first,” you laughed, staring up at Max.

“IreallylikedyourcompanytodayIwaswonderingifyouwantedtogooutonadatelikejustthetwoofus?” Max said hurriedly, his eyes straying from your gaze. You let out a small gasp, before a beaming smile was plastered across your face.

“I would love to, Max! I thought you would never ask,” you smiled bashfully, grinning at him as the doors opened.

The two of you walked out and awkwardly lingered in the hallway between your two apartments, not wanting to say goodbye just yet. “Thank you for today Max. I can’t wait to see you again,” you smiled, placing a quick kiss on his stubbled cheek. His eyes widened before looking down at your playful ones which sparkled in the light. A hot flush spread across his face, his hand reaching out to grasp your own. However, you quickly stepped back from his grasp, skipping down the hall to reach your own door.

“Also Maxie, I would love for you to come by my apartment some time,” you giggled, waving at him, before you closed your door behind you. Max stepped into his apartment and with a blush and a grin out into the Monaco harbour, he was struck with a sudden realisation.

It wasn’t just a major crush. He was in love.

[next]

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@lyannesworld @heavy-vettel @bloodyymaryyy @therealplaguedoctor @gigigreens

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[chelseeebe]

on my knees (for you).

a/n: more virgin!eddie tales WOOO!! i just can’t shake this little pathetic man and i want to write him being so down bad for ever and ever. thinking of some steddiexreader that includes the little virgin boy too…

this is a continuation to seven minutes in heaven but really can be read on its own, it just mentions events that happened in the first fic.

18+. smut. mentions of weed. eddie being horrifically pathetic again. no mentions of y/n.

eddie’s sure you’ve pavlov’d him.

his cock springs into action the second you appear. and see that wouldn’t be a bad thing except for the fact that he sees you multiple times a day, in class or around campus and it makes him look like a dirty perv.

even now, he’s sat trying to kill it off as you sit next to him eating your lunch. thigh brushing against his every now and again and his mind is going wild. he’s trying to think what would happen if he just lifted you onto the table and fucked the shit out of you right here.

well, in all actuality, he’d probably last all of about ten thrusts before busting a nut and subsequently dying of embarrassment. maybe it’s not wise.

the thing is, now you had this little arrangement with each other, his erections had been ramped up to level ten. and he solely blames you for that, by the way.

he’d never known someone to be so eager all the time. you’re like a fucking rabbit. tearing at his clothes the minute you’re alone already soaking your little panties. eddie had debated swiping some last time he was over but had decided against it at the last minute which he sorely regretted the second he got home.

it had mostly just been a lot of you riding him in an attempt to get him to last longer than just a few minutes so you hadn’t really.. experimented much. he didn’t mind though, getting to stare at your tits bouncing in his face as you fucked yourself on his cock? how could he complain?

your fingers wrap around his knee, leaning in to his ear, ‘i’m free for the next two hours.. what about you?’ ever so slowly traipsing your fingers higher, his cock jumping to attention. not here. please not fucking here.

he’s got steve harrington sat opposite and really does not fancy having to explain to him as to why he’s this hard at lunch time.

it wasn’t like it was a matter of life or death but it was just easier to keep doing this without everyone knowing. because then it becomes a thing and nobody wanted that. eddie’s sure at least some people have gathered what’s happening. especially argyle who had woken up rather confused to find you spooning him on your tiny couch, but had just let out a tiny bro? and fallen right back to sleep.

‘i-i have class,’ tentatively placing his hand on yours to stop it ascending any further. eyeing the other participants at the table. oh fuck. steve definitely knew. looking over with a slight glint of humour in his eye, waiting until you re-emerged from eddie’s ear to say something.

the stupid smug prick. he probably couldn’t wait to humiliate eddie in front of all your friends. then he’d swoop in with his blonde highlights and tinted strawberry lip balm. he couldn’t stand it.

surely you weren’t interested in that? really, eddie is the complete opposite of whatever the fuck that is and there’s no way in hell you’d continue to fuck him if you weren’t a fan.

‘skip class for me?’ you whisper into his ear. for me. for me. fuck. he’d do anything for you. you could’ve told him to flip the table so you could fuck right here and he would’ve.

his breath hitches in his throat but he nods quickly, squeezing your hand and dipping his head low. the bulge in his jeans was fairly obvious at this point but maybe if he got up quick enough no one would be able to tell.

your hand vacates his leg, leaving a burning sensation in it’s wake. you’re shoving your shit into your bag, standing from the shared table. oh you meant now. while over your friends were still here. you were going to walk off together. to your room. oh god. that wasn’t obvious, was it?

‘where are you goin’?’ steve asks, watching intently when you jab at eddie’s shoulder to make him move. he does immediately, grabbing his back pack and determining just how he can slide out of here without showcasing his hard on to the world.

‘we’re going to smoke.. that alright with you?’ you remark, hands poised on your hips. eddie loved it when you were like this. his heart racing faster every time you scolded him or pouted those pretty, plump lips his way.

‘sweet, i’ll come!’ argyle sits up straight, awakened by the mention of weed. of course.

‘no,’ you bark, getting fed up of waiting for eddie to stand up and instead grabbing his collar, yanking at the denim, ‘sorry, closed invitation,’ wiggling your eyebrows at the long haired boy.

this elicits a chorus of ooohs from the table as eddie finally slides from the bench, turning immediately to follow your lead. he felt like a massive loser following you around. if you got him a leash and told him to get on all fours he would. and he likes think that that’s understandable.

‘oh my god they’re so annoying,’ you hush, his legs rushing to catch up with your irritated strides. did he look like such a lost dog to other people? not that he cared much.

‘i know.. it’s steve,’ he replies, realising that there was probably too much venom in that response to pass it off as something casual. yeah, maybe he was still a tiny smidgen jealous that you two had such natural chemistry. he is human after all. anybody would be.

‘he’s an ass but it’s all of them, so nosy,’ you chuckle, linking your arm with his now that you’re out of view of your prying friends.

he had wondered if you were ashamed of him, or to be seen with him at least. it was understandable, you were literally smoking hot and he was.. a pathetic little nerd who was completely obsessed with you. but to stand up and quiet openly lead him off to your room in front of everyone, maybe you weren’t.

‘you’re not like.. ashamed to fuck me, are you?’ regretting it the instant it came out of his mouth. he didn’t want to know the answer really. and even if you were, he wasn’t going to complain. it’s not like girls were falling at his feet, let alone girls as pretty as you.

‘no!’ you hit his arm, expelling the breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding, ‘eddie be serious, it’s not like they don’t all know anyway,’ rounding the corner to your house.

he had snuck in a multitude of times over the last few weeks, in fact it was every day at this point. running up the stairs past nancy’s room, thinking how much easier it would be if you were on the ground floor. then he might be able to shuffle through your window and back out in the early hours.

you fumble for your keys, knowing that the house would be empty at this time and quite proudly let him in the door. he doesn’t reply to your answer because he had assumed that the pair of you were successful at being incredibly sneaky.

‘do you have a problem with it being a secret?’ you ask, the door slamming shut behind you.

oh god no. even if he did, he’d never tell you in fear of ruining it all. the only thing he wanted to do was to rub it into steve’s annoying face. ha ha. this massive loser had gotten into your pants before he had. well, at least he thinks.

‘no,’ it comes out sounding more like a question than a statement, which he chastises himself for straight away. if he had half the confidence any normal person had, he would’ve stopped this conversation in its tracks. shoved you back against the wall or something and shut you up with his mouth.

‘no?’

‘yeah, no,’ he repeats, sounding much more assured in himself.

‘good,’ you mutter and he notices the glint in your eye, hints of a smirk beginning to appear. he blinks and you’re stood before him, eyeing up his lips. his jeans had just got a hell of a lot tighter.

isn’t it crazy that someone’s eyes could have that affect on someone? or actually, how just the sheer presence of them in the room could have someone stumbling over their words.

‘i.. don’t care at all,’ staggered breaths as he’s backed up against the wall, shoulder blade hitting into one of the framed pictures on the wall. he wants to yelp at the pain but instead keeps his eyes solidly on yours.

he’s been practicing you see. watching any and all videos he could find of how to be a dominant man alongside copious amounts of porn and had gathered a bunch of mens help magazines. they were supposed to teach him how to be more strong willed, to flip the upper hand over to him.

except, they’d really done nothing at all. well actually, he’d now discovered that his hand was no longer sufficient compared to the earth shattering orgasms you’d given him. if there was a way for him to bottle that feeling, he’s sure that it’d be more addicting than heroin. probably make more money, too.

‘shall we go upstairs?’ you ask, eyelashes fluttering. yes. god yes. he’s desperate to get upstairs and into your room so he can disappoint you for five whole minutes this time.

‘yes.. yes please,’ his chest rising and falling rapidly. everything he had practiced had gone to shit the second you’d touched him. brilliant. 

you simply smirk, grabbing his hand to lead him up the stairs the exact same way you had the last five nights of this week.

shoving him into your bedroom and kicking the door shut behind you. you’re ferocious with it. and he wonders if you needed him as badly as he needed you. he just longed to be inside of you or next to you or just in the same room as you. he needed that feeling pumped into him intravenously.

you’re on him the second the door’s shut, grabbing at his chest, his shirt and his pants all at once. pushing him back towards your unmade bed with such urgency that he stumbles, pulling you on top of him. your lips are everywhere, pecking at his jawline and his neck. going over the violet markings you’d left previously. he was embarrassed about them at first but had quickly learned to appreciate them and the fact that you weren’t afraid to mark him.

you’re shuffling out of your jeans already, kicking them off of your ankle as you rest your knees either side of his thighs. he only notices because the frilly lace waistband of your panties catches against the button on his jeans. are these what you wear normally or is this something you did for him?

a low moan is pulled from his throat when your skilful fingers unbutton his jeans and make their way onto his rock hard cock. did you paint your fingernails for him too? the shimmering violet looked so good wrapped around his cock. he’s sure any colour would as long as it was on your hand.

‘always so hard for me, aren’t you?’ you mutter against his neck, still fondling his sensitive balls. his toes curl in his socks, keeping both feet firmly on the floor in an effort to ground himself.

there’d been a few instances of him cumming.. prematurely. and by prematurely he means, the second you touched him. he blames those times on the weed though. it was the only reasonable explanation.

‘s-sit on my face,’ he blurts out, unaware of what dark hole that had come from.

your eyes narrow, gazing down at him with your mouth hung open. that was definitely the wrong thing to say. he’d seen it in this one video and had started salivating at the thought of your pillowy thighs wrapped around his ears.

eddie hadn’t quite been able to make you cum yet. like, he was certainly making progress and you’d gotten close a couple of times but you had ultimately had to get yourself off. which he loved to watch.. he just wanted to be involved. he lived in pure amazement at how you just seemed to get there so quickly. sometimes it wasn’t even a minute with your hand between your thighs and you were whining and writhing around. how?

‘eds.. that’s- are you sure?’ eyeing him cautiously. why didn’t you just trust him? he’s pretty confident he had the technique down, ashamedly having practiced on his hand one night. yeah, that was awkward.

and the erection it had given him was too.

‘i’m sure.. please,’ he had figured out that as soon as he begged for something, he pretty much got it. maybe you had a fetish for pathetic men or something but all he had to do was plead a little and you were pouncing on him.

‘do you even know-,’

‘-yes i know what to do,’ he barks a little hastily. at least now you’d either punish him or would listen to him. either was fine.

you eyebrows fly up your forehead and he thinks for a second that he’s really in the shit. his cock jumps at the thought of you slapping him again or even better, wrapping your hand around his neck like you’d done the other day. now that really got him going.

‘okay.. but if it’s too much let me know,’ lifting yourself from his waist and shuffling upward towards his head. he’s drooling just thinking about it. wrapping his arms around the backs of your thighs just as the man in the video had. he could keep you in place perfectly like this.

‘come on,’ he sighs, watching as you slide your underwear down and off to the side, stopped just before his eager, salivating mouth. everything he had practiced came down to this very moment and he was more than ready to show you what he’d learned.

‘you’re so bossy now.. i don’t like it,’ frowning down to him, hand coming to hold onto your headboard. he had hoped that you’d pull on his hair again but was for sure not going to ask. ‘remember to tell me if it’s too much.. slap me or something, i’ll know,’ biting down onto your bottom lip.

he nods quickly, eyes sliding away from yours to your pussy poised above him. now, he didn’t have any much experience with pussy but he’d say that yours was perfect.

without wanting to waste anymore time, he pulls you down onto his mouth, tongue immediately lapping at your folds. just the way he’d practiced. he didn’t really have any preconceptions of what pussy would taste like but he’s pleasantly surprised. he’d keep you here all day if he could, who needed to breathe anyway?

‘ho-holy shit,’ you remark, clawing at your bed frame for a little balance. he thinks that’s a good thing, eyes trained on your face to determine whether he was doing this right or not.

his tongue slides up, circling around your sensitive clit. yeah, that’s it. he can tell when your eyes roll into the back of your head, hips stuttering on his face.

‘jesus eddie,’ you breathe, just hearing his name tumble from your lips does fucking wonders for him. it’s all the encouragement he needs to continue his assault on your cunt.

he murmurs something in utter gratitude when your hand leaves the headboard to instead tangle into his hair. mouth vibrating against your pussy which is another hit. the gorgeous sounds of your moans fill the room, only slightly muffled by your legs over his ears.

it’s now or never. he has to pull out the big guns.

tongue leaving your clit to slide into your dripping hole. soaking his chin, his lips and probably his shirt in your arousal. he didn’t mind one bit. it’s like a badge of honour to know that he was responsible for the mess.

‘fuck,’ you hiss, fisting his curls as your eyes squeeze shut. eddie wants to scream when your eyes roll back, his fingers digging into your fleshy thighs.

oh my god. this was paradise. utter heaven. his heart swelling a little knowing that you were cussing fretting because of his mouth. you were so gorgeous from this angle. well, from all angles but particularly this one. looking totally blissed out on top of him, your lips opening to let out the most insatiable noises he’d ever heard.

your fingers yank at his curls, legs trembling around his flushed face, ‘i’m gonna- eds, i’m cumming,’ thighs clamping around his head as your hips roll forward on their own, trying to escape the overstimulation.

eddie’s desperate to keep you there, using his palms to hold you steady while he’s literally making out with your pussy. lapping at your clit, at the juices that now covered his face. except his stomach tightens, slowing his pace until he realises what’s happening.

oh shit.

his hips buck up into the air on their own and his boxers feel incredibly wet and sticky. he’s just came in his pants by eating you out. that’s ridiculous. utterly unbelievable that someone could be that tragic.

you were definitely going to laugh at him when you realised but there’s literally not a chance that he could hide that. he lets go of his grip on your thighs, moving one hand over his crotch as you shuffle off of him.

bastard. pathetic fucking bastard.

you hadn’t even touched him yet. how was he going to explain that? i’m just so sickly obsessed with you that i came in my pants. that didn’t sound like anything a normal person would say.

his eyes remain shut, laboured breathing as his mind attempts to take him out of this room and far, far away. it’s not fucking working. especially not when he can hear your panting next to him, the rustling of the sheets as you sort them out.

your eyes travel to his covered crotch with a confused expression until you notice the dark latch and it finally clicks. ‘did you cum in your pants?’ you exclaim and he thinks that this right here might just kill him off.

he nods quickly, point blank refusing to open his eyes. it was easier this way, at least his tears of embarrassment would be somewhat hidden. you could’ve just done the polite thing and ignored it. made up some excuse about going to class and then you could disappear from his life. god, why did you have to be such a-

‘that’s so hot,’ you continue, cutting his thoughts short at just the right spot. pressing your warm body into his side as you settle into bed.

‘what? no it’s not..’ brave enough to open his eyes to look at you, confusion plastered over his face. surely you were just joking. no woman in the history of the world would find his inadequacy hot.

‘who are you to tell me what i can or can’t find hot?’ prodding at his cheek, offence ribbed throughout your response.

this surely requires a marriage proposal or something of that nature, right? like, there’s not a possibility that he could ever let you get away now.

his lips twitch into a smile, taking his hand from his crotch to wrap his arm around your shoulder. the confidence was next level and almost unheard of but he had to show you a little appreciation after you’d just told him his premature orgasm was attractive.

‘don’t ever tell me what i can and can’t like again,’ you jokingly warn, resting your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

he speaks up after a few moments of silence, unsure of if you’re even still awake, ‘thank you.. for letting me do that,’ staring up at the ceiling. eddie thinks that he likes eating pussy. really likes it. especially yours.

you laugh sleepily, throwing an arm over his torso. it’s music to his ears. if making you cum was top priority, then making you laugh was a solid number two.

‘you don’t have to thank me every time,’ yawning into his chest. it’s technically still the middle of the day but if you were going to sleep, he sure as hell wouldn’t complain.

instead he’d lie there as still as he possibly could. kinda like when a cat falls asleep on your lap and you just can’t move for the rest of the day. he’s prepared to take that sacrifice.

-

he must’ve dozed off at some point too because he wakes up to a short knock on your bedroom door.

you’re dead to the world. completely unaffected by the sound, curled into the blanket. super adorable with your cheeks squished togeth-

the door knocks again and he jumps up, not wanting whoever it is to wake you. he hadn’t exactly thought of the consequences of answering your door. half naked at that.

‘oh! eddie.. wasn’t expecting you,’ nancy responds, eyebrows flying up her forehead. he’s such a moron. it would’ve been ten times easier to just ignore the door because now he had to explain why he was stood in his underwear in your room.

perfect.

‘oh yeah.. got too high.. had to sleep it off, yanno?’ chuckling awkwardly, desperately trying to hide behind the door. he hopes to the high heavens that his boxers aren’t stained. he’d either look like the worlds biggest creep or like the completely pathetic freak that he was. he wasn’t keen on either option.

only you could know just how pitiful he truly was.

her eyes travel to his bare legs and back up again, ‘uh huh.. well, we’re ordering pizza if you two want in..?’ giving him a tiny smile. she’s so polite that now he just feels weird. god dammit, they’re friends, his pasty little legs being out should not make him feel so exposed.

‘oh yeah uh.. i’ll ask her,’ glancing over to your very unconscious state on the bed. he wasn’t keen on the idea of waking you but did think that it’d be rather unforgivable if he didn’t. plus he was hungry.

‘okay.. don’t take too long,’ wiggling her eyebrows at him and disappearing off back downstairs. shutting your door with a quiet click.

fucking nancy wheeler and her politeness.

he slinks back over to the bed, shaking your shoulder ever so gently, ‘hey.. wake up,’ trying his hardest not to alarm you.

it works somewhat, your eyes springing open as you wake. blinking up at him from your blanket cocoon. he feels terrible but man’s gotta eat. it does occur to him now that it would’ve been a pleasant surprise to wake you with a pizza rather than just so abruptly.

‘wha- what?’ rubbing your tired eyes as you come to. you’re so cute like this, he wouldn’t mind waking up to this sight every morning. okay, maybe he’s getting ahead of himself here.

‘er.. they’re ordering pizza.. nancy asked me if you wanted anything?’ still standing sheepishly over your bed. his eyes trail down to where your thigh had poked out of the duvet, how they were keeping his face warm barely a few hours ago..

‘oh,’ you sigh, ‘yeah.. just cheese please,’ snuggling back up into the bed, ‘there’s a twenty on my desk, get whatever you want,’ closing your eyes again.

‘oh.. okay,’ he nods, even though you obviously can’t see him. deciding that this time, he’ll be more appropriately dressed to converse with your roommates. seemed like the right thing to do. plus he’s sure robin would definitely have plenty to say if he came downstairs half-dressed. and none of it good.

he ignores the money on your desk. as fucking if he’d let you pay for your own food after you had so graciously fed him earlier. not happening. like, ever again.

following the voices into your kitchen to find nancy and robin sat around the kitchen island, phone poised in her hand ready to go.

‘you’re in luck, i was just about to call.. what d’you want?’ robin asks, raising a singular brow. nancy had obviously filled her in on what had been behind your bedroom door.

‘just cheese.. please,’ ignoring how ridiculous the unintended rhyme made him sound.

‘is that for both of you?’ she looks on, a glint of something indescribable in her eye. he wishes he knew how to decipher women. you’re all so fucking complicated and weird. in the best way, of course.

‘uh.. yeah?’ looking on tentatively, unsure of what she could possible be implying.

‘she won’t share, better to get your own,’ she nods. oh. she was being nice. he’s sure there’ll be a catch somewhere.

‘oh right.. okay,’ he fumbles around in his pocket for his wallet, tossing a couple twenties onto the marble. maybe if he covered their food too, he’d get in their good books and would be welcomed back with open arms. he’s sure he could endure that.

pay for food and get magnificent pussy in return. seemed fair.

the two girls sit in silence until he gets to the bottom of the stairs and then robin pipes up once again, ‘will we be seeing you around here regularly, mr. munson?’

he pauses, staring back into the kitchen at the two girls. he’s not sure how to even respond. because actually, he’d been at your house every night this week, right under their noses. and if he were to hazard a guess, he’d be here most of next week too. and the next.

okay, maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

‘uh.. maybe?’ he shrugs, chuckling nervously. robin’s eyes are like slits, staring him down. she’d always been rather intimidating and now was no exception.

‘hm,’ she nods, shooing him off back up the stairs, ‘you’re dismissed,’ still clutching onto the clunky plastic phone.

he disappears rapidly, not wanting to hang around to find out what else she was going to pry about it. eddie reckons that he’s good at secrets, but if he was truly pressed, he’s not so confident in his ability to keep quiet.

you’re awake when he returns to your room, still dozing in bed but awake. he slinks back in, grateful to be away from their prying questions. you’re so sweet like this. not that he didn’t also adore the bossy, demanding side of you but he appreciated the docile part too.

‘you didn’t take my money,’ you point out, frowning at him from the pillow. he shuffles over to your side of the bed, smiling sheepishly.

‘i wanted to pay.. to say thank you,’ he nods, fiddling with his belt loop. he’s aware that you had already told him to stop saying thank you but he truly had to express his gratitude somehow.

‘stop doing that,’ you frown, glaring up at him, hand appearing from the blanket to grab onto his shirt. ‘if i didn’t want to have sex with you, i wouldn’t,’ fisting the material to pull him closer to the bed.

eddie’s not the most sturdy, stumbling and ultimately falling on top of you, just about catching himself before his head smashes into yours. that’d look really good to the girls he was trying to impress if he gave you a black eye, robin would probably get the pitchfork ready to murder him.

you squirm beneath him but your smile says it all, still clasped onto his tee. you’re slightly intimidating like this, well, you were all the time. but especially like this. just mere millimetres away from his face, gazing up at him with those bright eyes. he’s sure they held the glow of a thousand suns in them.

he breathes out shakily, fully aware that his entire body weight was on top of yours, ‘yeah.. shit, sorry,’ far too mesmerised by your eyes to want to move just yet.

‘apology accepted,’ you grin, smashing your lips to his, hand still fisted into his shirt. it’s lazy and messy, tongue creeping into his mouth the second you get the chance.

eddie can feel your thighs move, spreading apart to pull him in closer despite the barrier between you. holy shit. he didn’t think he’d find this so incredibly hot. grinding against you between the blanket.

downstairs, robin and nancy share a certain look when they notice the faint knocking of your headboard against the wall. robin’s nose curling the second she realises just what was happening. feeling the instant regret of ever asking him if he was to be around more often.

[loveinhawkins]

Head spinning from blood loss, Eddie still manages to keep up a steady stream of curses as he lies in Steve’s arms, as he feels the jolt of Steve sprinting through The Upside Down.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking bullshit, fuck.”

“Good,” Steve says, frantic and out of breath. “Good, that’s—keep it up, Henderson says it can be, like, a sorta pain relief? Something about—”

“Fuck.” This time, Eddie chuckles through it. “S’not why I’m saying it.”

“No?” Steve says in that weird, measured tone that just silently screams panic, panic, panic. “Why?”

“Jus’ making sure,” Eddie says, and he knows that doesn’t make sense yet, can’t quite get his brain to work everything out. “Those’d be shit last words, so. They won’t be. You… fuck, ow. You know? Here lies Eddie Munson: fuck.”

Steve laughs, maybe a little hysterical, a little desperate, but mostly genuine. “Yeah, you’re right. That’d be really embarrassing, man.”

Eddie suddenly can’t find the energy to act insulted, even though he badly wants to make Steve laugh again—but it turns out, he doesn’t need to say anything, because Steve keeps talking.

“D’you know what that would be, though? A damn good yearbook quote.”

And Eddie laughs, too—laughs even though it hurts. “C’mon, man, Higgins would never let—”

“Eddie,” Steve manages to drawl out, even as he dextrously weaves through the vines on the ground, like Eddie’s just said something particularly naive. “You think Higgins looks over the yearbooks? You just gotta sweet-talk the yearbook committee, they pay the printers to turn a blind eye, and—”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s what I’m known for. Sweet-talking,” Eddie says. He tries very hard not to cough, has the horrible feeling that he might tear himself in two if he does.

“Don’t sell yourself short, dude,” Steve says.

And Eddie would blame that on the blood loss for making him hear things, but then Steve’s hands gently squeeze around him like he means it, and…

“So what… what was your yearbook quote, Harrington?” Eddie says. He firmly ignores the fact that his voice is becoming increasingly slurred.

Steve picks up the pace, kicks through the door into the trailer. His breath hitches once, but not from physical strain; Eddie knows that he’s frightened.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Steve replies, chiding, because he’s so goddamn brave, too. “Not telling you that until we get out of this.”

“Tease,” Eddie says.

But he must not get it out very clearly, because as Steve heads to the Gate, he murmurs, “Stay with me, Eddie.”

There’s some rope Steve had stashed in the corner of the living room, just in case, and Robin and Nancy must’ve made use of it to get Dustin through, because it’s already hovering in the air, waiting for them.

“Okay,” Steve says, half to himself. “I’ve got this.”

Eddie attempts a nod. The room spins.

Or maybe it’s just that they’re moving somehow, that Steve’s pulling them both up the rope, somehow not letting go of Eddie; and then he can hear muted yells from the other side, and he’s being lifted up on his own, like he’s ascending to heaven or some bullshit like that, and he almost wants to demand a re-mark on his English paper, because religious symbolism is fucking hilarious, actually.

“You’re a goddamn trapeze artist, Harrington,” he says, and Steve must hear him this time, because there’s a laugh from just behind him, a fucking beautiful laugh, and then Eddie’s falling, and he’s—

“Oh,” Eddie gasps, and his hand goes to his side instinctively, and he didn’t think he had much more blood in his body left to lose, but… “Oh, shit.”

His vision tilts sickeningly, and right before he passes out, he sees Steve appear in front of him, sees his face turn white.

“Eddie,” he’s saying, “Nance, what do I—oh my god—”

-

When Eddie wakes up, everything is fuzzy, his head full of cotton. There’s a metallic taste in his mouth that he has enough awareness not to panic about, that he somehow knows isn’t blood.

“So?” he says through the fog, lifts his eyelids just enough to see Steve is beside him. “What’s your yearbook quote?”

“Christ, you’re annoying,” Steve says with a smile, but he’s speaking in the thick, nasal tones of someone who’s been crying. “Thought you were on stuff that makes you forget all the stupid shit.”

“S’not stupid,” Eddie says indignantly.

For some reason, Steve’s eyes soften. “If you say so. Just rest right now, Eddie.”

“Can’t,” Eddie moans. He’s already made the mistake of looking up: the lights are too bright, quickly turning into nauseating swirls. “Feel sick.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says. “They said that’s normal. Hey, shh, just lie back. It’ll pass.”

But Eddie shakes his head and—ooh, shit, not a good idea.

“Y’should move, man,” he says. “Don’t wanna puke on you.”

Steve scoffs. “Eddie, you could literally throw up in my hair, and I wouldn’t give a shit.”

Eddie laughs, feels a bit pathetic that it comes out wet around the edges. “I just… wanna sleep,” he says, because he does, but he knows the nausea will keep him up—feels abruptly tearful, like he had done as a child with whooping cough, up for the whole night despite his fatigue.

“Here,” Steve says. “Close your eyes.”

And as he does so, Eddie feels a soothingly cool palm across his forehead. Steve. It’s such a gentle touch, such a kind touch that Eddie thinks he might cry—thinks he can only partly blame whatever drugs he’s on.

“Better?” Steve asks.

“Better,” Eddie agrees. And then, like a fool, he hurriedly says, “Don’t stop, though,” out of fear that Steve will draw his hand back at the answer.

Steve doesn’t laugh, doesn’t tease him even the slightest bit.

“I won’t,” he says, like an oath. His thumb rubs over Eddie’s temple. “M’sorry you feel shitty.”

“It’s okay. You’re right, it’s passing. Think… think it was just… lookin’ at the lights.”

Eddie sighs without meaning to, lulled by the repetitive path Steve’s fingers are tracing, over and over.

“Mm-hmm. Keep your eyes closed, then.” Steve hums softly, just in thought, not even close to a lullaby, but Eddie feels himself starting to drift off to it anyway.

“It’s a nice room you’ve got,” Steve says. “I would’ve rioted if it wasn’t. Big window. Just a view of the parking lot, sorry, not exactly five stars.” Another hum. “Kinda pretty in its own way, though. It’s getting a bit warmer. I saw—the other day, I looked out and saw these kids, there’s some grass a little bit away from… they were making daisy chains, I think. Was never good at… couldn’t get ‘em to tie right. So I’d just kinda tug at the grass, and… Hey, d’you know, some of the kids—like, our kids, I mean—they don’t even know about the buttercup thing, holding it to see if it like, glows, under your chin? I told Max about it when she got outta here—shh, she’s okay—and she just looked at me like I was crazy. She’s good at daisy chains, man, she told Lucas it was five dollars per flower and he paid it all, wore the damn thing on his wrist for the whole day. Stupidly sweet, but I couldn’t even say so or she’d, like, punch me.”

And Eddie’s used to painting a picture with words, used to creating fantastical landscapes out of thin air during campaigns. But as Steve goes on, talking about the kids (their kids), and flowers, and all the little signs of spring that he can’t see, Eddie falls asleep thinking that Steve’s given him the most beautiful, ever-changing view: how he sees the world.

-

Eddie doesn’t forget about the yearbook, but he doesn’t bring it up, simply because Steve keeps quiet about it.

It’s after a few weeks of the dust settling, reassurances that the nightmare’s over: of seeing Wayne and breaking down in tears of relief, of countless visits from everyone—mostly Dustin, second only to Wayne, of course; Eddie still says Steve’s tied for second place, at least, but Dustin insists it doesn’t count whenever Steve’s only there fleetingly to drop him off before heading to work.

It’s on an afternoon when he’s not expecting anyone, and Steve comes in, drops the yearbook right on top of his blankets.

Eddie looks down at it, hovers his hand over the front cover until Steve raises one eyebrow, as if to say, go ahead.

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to find him. The picture is… there’s something beautifully imperfect about it, as if Steve had been caught by surprise by the flash going off when it did, lips tilted into a smile that’s relaxed rather than the typical rigid, picture-perfect look.

Eddie thinks that he finally gets what Wayne means whenever he says someone has ‘soulful eyes.’

And underneath the little box framing Steve’s picture, there’s…

There’s nothing. It doesn’t stand out, because not everyone on that page had opted to have a quote, but…

Eddie looks up. Steve shrugs, but his eyes are downcast.

“Yeah, sorry.” His voice is quiet; Eddie can hear a touch of embarrassment, and he hates it. “It’s not even… I didn’t even choose to keep it blank, really, the yearbook committee gave the deadline so far in advance, it… I had the time. Could’ve put anything.” He shrugs again. “Guess I couldn’t… guess I just, um… had nothing to say.”

Eddie closes the book. Sets it aside. Doesn’t take his eyes off Steve.

He gets it. If it’s even possible for him to be included in a yearbook, he’s confident he’d do the same—how do you even begin to sum up…? There’s nothing he could say about this year.

There are no words for it. For any of it.

But Eddie knows the ones that count.

“Tell me about work,” he says. He has the feeling Steve’s determinedly squeezed in a visit during his lunch break, his name tag askew.

Steve smiles, wrinkles his nose uncertainly. “But that’s so boring.”

“Nah,” Eddie says. “Maybe I like hearing what you have to say.”

Steve looks up finally; he smiles a little like he had in the photograph, as if something like a flash has surprised him.

And he talks about work.

But it’s more than that; it’s so much more. Eddie’s getting to see through a precious window.

He hears about how Steve noticed Robin wearing odd socks, and he only teased her about it when he was sure it wasn’t a deliberate twist on fashion she was trying out. How the sun meant it was hard to see the T.V, so he drew the blinds when no customers were around, made it feel like him and Robin had their own private cinema. And Eddie smiles fondly when Steve recalls smelling some kind of coconut perfume he couldn’t place, and Robin had started a list guessing names, just because he said it reminded him of a family vacation when he was four.

Eddie sees it all.

He doesn’t need clever one liners, or statements of grandeur.

He just needs Steve’s words.

[dokidokitsuna]

“Some of us…will always be alone”

Skipping forward a bit in this re-concept, just because I can~ (loooong post ahead)

So one of the many things I found underwhelming about Return of the Mammalians is the lack of villainous impact Mr. Grizz has on his own story.

For starters, he’s straight up absent from 80% of it. =/ Just a vaguely threatening disembodied voice that does weak comedy bits with Cap’n Cuttlefish from time to time…and that’s basically it until we face him in the final battle.

The worst thing he’s responsible for in the story (as in, a successful act we have to contend with, rather than a work-in-progress that we interrupt) is dehydrating Cuttlefish…which is very temporary and played for laughs immediately afterwards. We don’t even get the opportunity to engage with this “tragedy” by actively rescuing the Cap’n in gameplay, we just suddenly find his body during a cutscene.

Compare this to Commander Tartar manipulating the player and lying directly to their face throughout the game, attempting to kill the player during the reveal of its treachery in one of the most memorable scenes of the entire series, brainwashing a former protagonist into fighting the player, and then attempting to destroy an entire city while quietly confessing that it murdered thousands of victims just to get to this point.

I’ll let you guess which one of these antagonists feels like a genuine threat, and which one just feels like a disappointment. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now, I don’t mind Mr. Grizz being less violent and deranged than Commander Tartar…the two have different personalities and slightly different goals, and anyway a body count isn’t really necessary to be a convincing villain. But I DO mind him being so totally uninvolved, despite being a character that we already knew and interacted with beforehand. Like, at the very least…talk to the player. o_O Care about the player. Do something to interfere with the player sometime before the last minute! The fact that Grizz just doesn’t give a damn about our existence for most of the campaign is baffling from a writer’s standpoint, and heartbreaking from a Grizz-fan’s standpoint. ;_; Notice me, Kuma-san!!

…Anyway, there’s a million ways to remedy this, because it’s such a simple and obvious problem that really shouldn’t exist. ^^; And the one I chose for #re_rise (besides having Grizz haunt the game like an ever-present specter, as explained here) is one of my old tried-and-true favorites: using the villain to parallel the protagonist.

Basically, both characters are lonely at heart. Agent 3 left home for the Splatlands in search of a “fresh beginning”, after spending most of their life feeling like they never fit in anywhere. Throughout the story, we get subtle clues that what they want most is belonging and friendship…which they’re clearly discovering through their interactions with Deep Cut and Smallfry, although it’s not until the climax of the final battle that they can truly believe in it and accept it.

And of course, Mr. Grizz lost his home and entire civilization, and even in the midst of a thriving new one (that he actively engages with through his corporation…!) he’s apparently such a massive bigot that he doesn’t consider it worthy of his company. ^^; Fish-people do not count to him, thus his loneliness is self-inflicted and intensified. He believes his only recourse is to transform the world back into something he can accept.

These parallels, plus the desire-manifesting powers of Alterna’s crystals (discussed in this post) eventually brings the two characters to an understanding of sorts. Without having to exchange words, they can see and consider the similarities of their innermost feelings.

This doesn’t have much of an effect on Grizz, outside of something he might muse about while Agent 3 ascends the launchpad (and maybe quietly internalize as proof that fish-people have feelings too, just to give his last-second change of heart at least one leg to stand on). But it weighs heavily on Agent 3, especially since they’re being physically changed by their adventure in a way that makes these parallels even more relevant…yes, I’m finally gonna talk about what I actually drew. ^^

My idea was that spending too much time around Fuzzy Ooze will affect you even if you don’t touch it (i.e. through splashes/aerosols), just to a lesser degree. And since Agent 3 was the first to actually enter the underground lab spaces and spends more time fighting there than anyone else, they’ve had an unprecedented amount of secondhand exposure to it.

Through O.R.C.A.’s files, they can understand why this mild fuzzification is happening to them, and that it may not be reversible, although they press on anyway (I’d like to imply that they’re willing to ignore it to impress Deep Cut~). But Grizz’s offhand comments make them realize that they may be unintentionally setting themselves up to be cast aside again, slowly turning into a repulsive mutant monster that no one will want to be around. The only one of their kind in the world, just like a certain Ursine Anomaly…and if they succeed in stopping Grizz’s plan, that’s all they’ll ever be. 

…On the other hand, if they were to sit back and let him fuzzify the world, then…no, they couldn’t do that. They…wouldn’t…

[leossmoonn]

Hope you’re having a good day! Can I request a blurb of Abby seeing your place for the first time?

yes!!! I hope you’re having a good day as well :D

————

“are we almost done yet?” abby groans as she climbs up what she hopes to be the last flight of stairs.

“one more, honey,” you say. you grab her hand and try to help her as her little legs feel like jello. you turn to mike who is trailing behind you two. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know the elevator would be broken.”

he shakes his head, smiling a little while panting. you can see some beads of sweet form on his upper lip. “i love cardio. in fact, this is right on par with what i do at the gym.”

you giggle as you know he does not have a gym membership and he’s stopped running outside since it’s become so cold. even if he did keep up with exercise, stairs are a different type of workout.

“we are here!” you exclaim at the top of the step. abby jumps up for joy, suddenly re-energized with the excitement of seeing your apartment. you open the door leading to the hallway and the pair follow you halfway down the hall. you type in your apartment’s pin number and open the door, going in and setting your purse down and slipping your shoes off.

abby runs in, skipping through the room.

“abby! behave. we are guests,” mike says. “oh, it’s okay. there’s not anything she can harm,” you say.

there’s a little meow that comes from your bedroom. your head turns and you spot your cat. “except for cornelius, maybe.” you walk over and pick him up, walking him over to abby first. she gasps, her big brown eyes seeming to fill up her whole face. she tentatively puts out her hand, letting your car sniff her. cornelius ducks his head under her hand, rubbing his cheek along her palm.

“he’s so soft!” abby gushes. “he seems to like you,” you grin.

she turns to mike with the biggest pout you think you’ve ever seen from abby. “can we get a cat?”

mike chuckles softly and shakes his head. “i don’t think we can afford one, abs. i’m sorry.”

she frowns and turns to you, scratching cornelius behind the ears. “can i live with you?”

“maybe someday soon, hm?” you take a peek at mike who’s obviously daydreaming about a building a home with you.

“yeah, maybe someday,” he smiles softly. he starts looking around your apartment, taking in everything.

it’s a cute little place that you have. the first thing you see when you come in are two walls, one with a few doors along the side. the first door leads to your bedroom and the second leads to the bathroom. the third one is a small room that contains the washer, dryer, and litter box.

further into the hallway is the living room and kitchen which are connected. the cabinets in your kitchen are all white with marble granite covering the countertops. the kitchen table you have is a little bar with three chairs all lined up seemingly perfectly. you have a few plants on top of each cabinet with a little cactus on the bar counter near the wall it’s connected to. you have family pictures all over your fridge, as well as some with mike and abby.

your living is by far your biggest room. you have a gray couch with a wood coffee table and another wooden table by the far corner of the couch. there’s a plant right in the middle of the coffee table as well with a picture of you and mike. the tv is sitting on top of a dresser that’s filled with all of cornelius’ food and toys and other necessities. there’s a window by the tv and couch, letting a great amount of light in. the wall behind your couch is a navy blue along with your rug.

by the window is a cat tree and a basket of cat toys. there are a few shelves on the wall that are ascending. on them are pictures of your cat, family, and little souvenirs you’ve managed to pick up while traveling.

mike’s been here before, but he’s always amazed at how homely it feels. it doesn’t have that stuffy feeling to it like his house does. it’s not depressing and disappointing to walk into. it’s lively even with just the three of you here standing in silence. it feels exactly like how you make him feel: calm and happy.

“i like your plants,” abby says, inspecting the calathea on your coffee table. “we should get some, mike.”

“it’s a small investment,” you say. “they will probably die in my care,” mike snorts.

“i’ll help,” you offer. he shrugs, “we’ll see.”

“are you guys hungry?” you ask, walking into your kitchen. “not really,” abby answers.

“mike?” you turn to him. “a little, but i can wait until i get home,” mike says.

“nonsense. you guys plan to stay here for a little, right? unless you want to walk down seven flights again.”

“no, please!” abby groans. “that’s what i thought,” you chuckle. “you good with eating some chinese takeout? i have leftovers that will go bad soon.”

“anything you have is fine. thank you,” mike says. “awesome,” you hold your fist up like you won a game. “oh, abs! i wasn’t sure if you wanted to watch anything while you were here, but i bought you some coloring utensils and coloring books as well.” you start to warm up the food in the microwave and go to your bedroom, coming out with a couple of boxes full of coloring supplies and a few books.

“oh, you didn’t have to,” mike sighs. “i wanted to,” you say. he watches with a smile as you sit on the ground with abby and look through the books with her. his heart warms as he knows you love abby like she’s your own blood and flesh.

you and mike are sitting on the couch while abby is laying on her stomach in front of the tv, paying most of her attention to her new coloring book. you managed to convince her to eat an egg roll, which she surprisingly liked, and some fortune cookies.

mike takes your plates once your done eating and begins to wash them. you follow him, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his shoulder.

“you didn’t have to,” you say. “you fed us and let us hang out at your place. plus, you got abby some new stuff. It’s the least i could do,” mike says.

you peck his cheek. “you guys are always welcome here. even if I don’t formally invite you, you guys can just show up if you know i’m home.”

“don’t let abby know that. before you know it, she’ll be packing a suitcase and sleeping here.”

“well, there is an apartment upstairs with two bedrooms.”

mike gently sets down the plate in the drying rack. “you don’t have to move just because my little sister wants to live with you.”

“what if i want you guys to live with me?”

his heart skips and his body stiffens under your. “really?” he mumbles. you hum and nod. “whenever you’re ready, just say the word. i love you, mike. and abby. you two are my family away from home.”

mike smiles and turns to place a kiss on your lips. he cups your face, leaning into the warmth of your body. you both hear a thud continued by a small meow. mike feels something furry against his neck and shuffles away, a little startled, only to find out it’s cornelius.

“if we move in, you might have to get rid of him,” mike says.

you gasp with a smile and slap mike’s chest. “that would be like getting rid of abby.”

“yeah, but abby is a human and can talk and feed herself. and use the bathroom without me having to clean it up.”

cornelius meows once again, batting mike’s shoulder. he then lays down on the counter, showing his belly and pushing his head into mike’s arm. you can’t help but awe.

“i think he likes you.”

mike brings a hand up and scratches the side of his face. cornelius starts to purr loudly, rubbing his head further into mike’s hand.

“he’s not so bad,” mike says. “see? you’ll get along perfectly fine,” you smile.

you and mike go back to watching tv for another hour or so before mike tells abby it’s time to go home. abby whines and begs to stay, but you assure her that you’ll see her bright and early tomorrow.

“i love you.” mike hugs you, holding you close and tight like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you. you close your eyes as you relax into him, feeling yourself melt against his body. “i love you, too, baby. drive home safe, okay? text me when you get home.”

mike nods, grabbing abby’s hand after you kiss her head goodbye.

“are you sure we can’t get a cat?” abby asks. “i’m sure,” mike says.

“what about a dog?”

“no.”

“a bunny?”

“no.”

“hamster?”

“abby, no.”

“what about a chicken?”

“where would we even get one of those?”

“i want a fox! josie has one in her backyard that visits sometimes.”

mike looks down at abby with a you’re crazy face. she giggles and starts to him to herself. mike sighs, knowing he’s going to have to deal with abby’s questions about pets for the rest of the week. but honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[bg-brainrot]

Sorry to bring the horny but what are your spicy headcanons for Astarion? (Ascended and spawn version)

No need to apologize anon-- this is a safe space for horny 🫰🏽

And ooo I haven't done any spicy headcanons before! I've only done the rogue!Tav ones before, but let me take a crack at it since I definitely have thoughts 🧐

Let's see... Spicy Astarion Headcanons w/GN!Tav (18+ Explicit warning ⚠️ all are set post-personal quest ⚠️ TW: Astarion's trauma)

Spawn Astarion

While he's not wholly comfortable engaging in intimacy for a while, he does enjoy exploring, testing out new ways to touch each other, figuring out what he likes/dislikes. There are stumbles along the way, and his healing journey is naturally not linear, but when he finds a few things he does like, the two of you are all too eager to capitalize on them.

One of those things is how much he enjoys looking into your face as you come. Whether you're in his lap, standing in front of him, laying before him-- he's finds it so much easier to stay connected and in the moment when he's looking directly into your eyes, watching you come undone to his touch.

Always a playful man, he also relishes taking his time with foreplay. Long, lingering touches, deep, kneading massages, soft, brushing lips... it's almost painful how slowly he enjoys taking his time to work you up, enjoys the same in return. But, gods, is it just as lovely.

Once he realizes how much you enjoy the sound of his voice, whispered right into your ear-- he can't stop murmuring loving little things to you. At first, you worry it's an act. After all, so were his initial sweet, honeyed words. But when he's losing all control, moaning a stuttering 'I love you' into your ear as his movements falter, you know that none of this is an act.

Despite maintaining a lot of his composure with you initially-- again, an act-- once he feels safe, comfortable in your arms, his carefully crafted composure falls to something real and a lot more sloppy. His dexterity and control seems to plummet in the heat of the moment, his fingers stumble in his eagerness. More than a few times, the two of you are left laughing, breathless as he finishes quickly or your latest exploration fails.

While he's happy to pleasure you, it takes some experimentation before he's comfortable with you reciprocating. In part because it's what he was used to, seducing targets for Cazador, but also because he's just not sure what he likes. The first time he enjoys your pleasuring him, you do it over his clothing, slowly, grinding the full length of him as he directs your hand with his.

More than anything, he needs to feel you, warm and alive, pressed against him after the fact. Sweaty, hair askew, blood usually trickling from a bite wound, he loves you most post-climax. And whether or not you'll have another go is immaterial, because, in the moment, all he wants is to drown himself in your mortality.

He never says it, but many of his favorite things are things he was never able to do in the 200 years of cruelty under Cazador. Looking into your eyes, telling you he loves you genuinely, taking his time, messing up-- all of them are new for him, ways of reclaiming his body and his sexuality.

Since beginning to re-explore his boundaries, his favorite situation together is you seated in his lap, your foreheads pressed together, your hands clutching his shoulders for support while he rolls into you, his own hands gripping your ass. When he's close, he whispers onto your lips, "Gods, you feel so good. Love, I-I can never last with you like this, can I?" When he comes, his lips meet yours, his hands wrap around your back-- as if trying to meld you to him.

Ascended Astarion

After ascending, he is eager to try out all of the new things his power affords him-- this includes his new body heat. With your own new undead form, he feels all the more alive. The first time he realizes what a thrill it is to have your cold body pressed against his heat, he can't get enough. He spends an entire day directing you to touch him, shivering in the wake of your chill touches.

And now that he can taste, he also wants to taste you-- everywhere. Not just your blood, but your sweat, your tears as you come for him. He will lap at you like a man possessed, all the while telling you how good you taste, how he would tear the hells apart for a mere drop of your release. His mouth, already such a potent drug, is relentless in its exploration of your flavors.

When it comes to the other attributes of mortal men he's received, why, his sex drive is through the roof. Every time he sees you make someone grovel before you, witnesses you exert your power, he can feel himself growing hard at the sight. More than anything, he wants to take you right then and there -- but he stills his hand, waiting until the day you're both seated on his throne.

While he doesn't go so far (yet), he makes no move to hide how he feels about you, often demanding your attention afterward with no more than a look, a finger curl, and a lick of his lips. It's a silent claim as well, showing anyone brave enough to watch whose consort you are.

As his consort, he will do everything in his power to ensure that you're taken care of. This means that, even if you think you're satisfied, Astarion will continue to tend to you, bringing you to climax after climax. It's only when you're left an utter, blubbering mess that he knows he's done enough.

He loves feeling that control over your pleasure. Above all else, he loves knowing that you, a powerful adventurer, crumble before him like anyone else. That thought drives him-- it means he fucks you often, he fucks you hard, and hells does he fuck you at a pace the gods would balk at.

As far as his own satisfaction goes, he's quite vocal about it now. He tells you exactly what he wants and when he wants it. When you stray the course, try something new, his hand is at your head, your neck, your waist-- keeping you right where he wants you.

He's also quite liberal in his praise of you, always ready to tell his beautiful consort what a pretty little mess they are for him, how lovely they feel when they clench around him, how their body could bring the very world to ruin with its perfection.

Since ascending, his new favorite situation is you on your knees, cold mouth around his cock, eyes watering, hands desperately trying to pleasure yourself, all while he looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, holding your head in place, whispering down silky sweet words of encouragement, "That's it, my treasure. Yes, gods, you take me so well. More. More. Yes, just like that. Give me everything." After he spends himself into your mouth, he will always be quick to bend down for a kiss, eager to taste himself on your lips.

[abbys-wifey]

falling for you

pairing: tara carpenter x female reader

warnings: embarrassing y/n.

a/n: the requests are being written guys i apologise for the time it’s taking

The first time I see her is on my way to my bio lecture. She was walking in the other direction, books tucked comfortably under her arm as she laughed with some curly haired girl.

It was crazy how fast I managed to fall for her, both physically and mentally.

Stumbling forwards I brace myself for the pain as I land face first into the concrete. “Oh shit are you good?” I curse whoever the higher power of this world is as the girl rushes over to my side.

“I’m good, just clumsy.” I manage to laugh through my embarrassment as I push myself to my knees, wincing as I run my hand over my face. “Your bleeding.” She contradicts monotonously as her eyebrow raises.

Seeing her up close made me want to fall over again, her perfect brown eyes that could swallow me whole and her nose adorned in little freckles that made a trail all the way down her cheeks. “Did you get a concussion or do you always stare this hard?” She asks scrunching her nose slightly.

“Neither?” I chuckle awkwardly willing the floor below me to open up and take me away from this pride shattering situation. “Ok, well if your ok then I have a class to get to. Try not to hurt that pretty face of yours anymore alright?” And with that she sends me a smile and a wave before heading back to her curly haired friend and continuing on her path to class.

………

“You fucking fell over in front of her?”

“Shut up ok, I didn’t mean to.” I hiss at my best friend Charlotte who doubles over in laughter earning a glare from our bio teacher.

“Oh that’s beautiful. I wish I was there.” Charlotte cackles wiping a tear from her eye. “Did you at least get her name?” She asks still recovering from her laughing fit. I run a hand down my face once again forgetting about the cut running across the side of my cheek. “Fuck ow.” I inhale sharply making sure it hadn’t re opened before turning back to my friend. “And no I’m a fucking idiot. You know this. I can’t talk let alone flirt with pretty girls. Especially ones who flirt back and call me pretty.” I sigh and rest my hands under my chin. “Besides this campus is massive, I doubt I’ll ever see her again.”

Charlottes eyes roll playfully. “Your life is sad. So pathetically sad.” Her hand rubs my back as she turns her attention back to our teacher.

………

With an aching head I manage to sit through the rest of my classes for the day and answer the many many questions on what happened to my cheek. None of which I answered honestly.

And with my last class over I go to head back to my apartment with Mac Miller blasting in my ears but a light tap on my shoulder forces me to pull out my airpods and turn around.

“Hi, sorry for interrupting your music session, just wanted to make sure you were ok after your… fall, earlier.” The same short brown eyed girl from earlier smiles up at me, her eyes lingering on my cheek.

My heart skips a beat (or five) and my hands rush to tuck my stray hairs behind my ears. “Oh uh that’s ok. I’m alright just got this to deal with when I get home.” I shrug nonchalantly as if the cut on my cheek didn’t make me sob in a bathroom for ten minutes.

The girl laughs, a sound that makes me believe I just ascended into heaven. “Yeah you better make sure that doesn’t scar. Although it’s a known fact that chicks dig scars so.” She smirks cheekily and winks.

“My names Tara by the way.” She extends her hand and I take it slowly. “Y/N. My names Y/N.” I shake her hand gently, our hands remaining intertwined for longer than is considered normal.

“You know how to take care of your cheek?” Tara asks leaning on her tippy toes to get a better view of the wound. “Uh, I’ll just have a shower and hope it gets better I guess.” I laugh awkwardly as Tara shakes her head, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“This might be forward but can I come to your apartment? Just to make sure you treat your cut well. I’ve had my fair share of wounds I know what to do with them and I’m sure you don’t want your face scarred forever.” Tara shrugs before looking down at her shoes that dig awkwardly against the pavement.

“I’m ok with it. So long as you don’t plan to murder me.” I chuckle causing Tara to place her attention back on me, her eyes rolling playfully. “Please, I’m five foot basically nothing. I think you’ll be fine.” She retorts as the two of us slowly begin walking towards my apartment.

“You never know. They say the small ones are the ones you need to watch out for.”

……

Arriving back at my apartment, Tara is quick to ask where my bathroom is before tugging me towards it. “Have a shower and hope.” She scoffs as she mocks my earlier words. Shoving me against the bathroom sink, although she apologises at the unnecessary force used, Tara rummages through my medicine cabinet until she finds what she’s looking for.

Antiseptic.

“This is gonna hurt.” She smiles apologetically before moving to stand between my legs, her brown eyes catching mine. “Is this alright?” She asks, slowly reaching up to grip my jaw. “Better than ok.” I scrunch my nose up as she blushes before letting out a whine as she finally presses the liquid to my wound.

“I knew you were trying to kill me.” I breathe, trying my hardest not to look like a wimp. Tara’s eyes flicker to my own filled with worry before returning to my cheek as she dabs away. “Trust me, this is the least painful part.” She chuckles. I don’t reply, simply fixated on her concentrated face.

Once again I find myself following her trail of freckles and losing myself in her brown eyes. Only this time I don’t have a concussion to blame it on when she catches my stare.

“So what’s the excuse this time?” She whispers, her nose basically brushing mine as she gazes up at me.

I can’t reply, my voice stuck in my throat as her dimples appear following her toothy grin. Mustering up as much courage as I possibly can I let my hand fall upon her waist pulling her further into my legs. “I don’t have one.” I manage to breathe out as her breath hitches.

I watch as Tara’s eyes fall to my lips, her tongue running over her own. “Just kiss me.” I whisper surprised at my own confidence.

But confidence is key as Tara’s lips connect with my own, her hands leaving my jaw to tangle themselves in my hair as I squeeze her waist gently.

Capturing her tongue with mine is something that I had yet to even imagine, the feeling of euphoria rushing through every nerve in my body.

Only when breathing becomes a problem do I pull back and grin at the flushed face of the brown eyed girl before me.

“Your beautiful.” I sigh moving a hand to her cheek and caressing it lightly. Her lips twitch upwards as she shrugs. “Your cheek is still not treated. Let me finish my job and we can finish this later.” She teases softly before leaning in to peck my lips once again.

“And I promise you. We will.”

[squiddy-god]

jjk men as dads

Re uploaded from terminated blog squid-god-supreme, this is something that I wrote a while ago that I'm re uploading, so I can't promise how good the characterization, and this is gonna be its probably very Ooc, but I don't give a fuck.

CW : implied fem reader, implied previous pregnancy, tooth rotting fluff, probably ooc, happy magical no gege Au lmao. Gojo, geto, nanami, choso

Gojo: 

Chaotic dad 101

Gojo is the embodiment of dad joke energy, he physically cannot stop himself from making those jokes 

Gojo is a fun dad! He likes to teach his kid things 

I can 100% see him teaching his kid to ride a bike 

So imagine this lanky beanpole running after/jogging behind your child as they wobbly ride a bike for the first time

🥺 adorable

Will do your kids hair and will be shockingly good at it

Don't be surprised if you come home and gojo is having a bubble bath and making a mess with your kid

Probably- no I know for a fact this man would have those fun bath paints you put on tile walls 

I don't take criticism

Your child will always have cute outfits that are a matching set (tell me I'm wrong) 

Gojo puts in considerable effort in making your baby/child the cutest

LOVES LOVES LOVES to play peek-a-boo and here those cute tiny baby giggles

Nanami:

HEAD EMPTY JUST NANAMI WAKING UP TO GENTLY ROCK THE BABY BACK TO SLEEP IN HIS ARMS 

Please I cannot function with this thought-

Hhhhhhnnngggggg just imagine walking into the room and there's nanami, baby in his arms, gently swaying with them akanskwsb

He's very extra gentle with the baby 

I have a very specific image of nanami sitting in a chair, baby in his lap while he reads the morning paper 

Gets mushy when he sees you hold the baby and thinks it's just a perfect sight

a protective dad but not overbearing

Let gojo (reluctantly) baby sit one time and it was the last- 😀 the mess smh

I want to see nanami with a little todler teaching them how to dance

Like imagine them standing on his feet while he dances with them i-

I am ascending

Geto: 

When I say if gladly have this man's kids- alwbeiebwiwbeiwbe 🤡

Carries your kid around a lot, like it's a common sight to see him walking around with his kid in his arms

Lots of piggybacks

Cooks cute breakfasts and the child has a matching apron 

Would sing to them but like in a baby voice  and it's really cute 

Dose the thing where you toss your kid a little and catch them 

So happy when they take their first steps (100% got it on video) 

Would always let them win at hide and seek and loves to see them get excited that they found him 

Isn't above pranking you with silly things

Has a picture of them and you on him at all times 

"That's my kid 😊" proud dad™ energy

Choso:

Vvvv protective and loving 

They're just so small and fragile 🥺

Will read them story's even before they can understand because he loves any and all time spent with them 

Really likes to read them picture books while they sit on his lap 

When they are a baby he will hold his hand against theirs and melt because they tiny 

Wholesome boy

Low key (read high key) a big softie 

You, him, and your child in one big ✨snuggle ✨ is his ideal time

Intimidating dad- has a tendency to loom if he senses a threat 

Very sweet and knows the names of all your kids stuffed animals

Choso is a good dad and loves his small family so very much

[genshinnrambles]

noticed this similarity between capitano and the blazegem inscription

so I was re-watching the cutscene in the natlan archon quest because the Genshin Impact youtube channel posted it last night, and I noticed something:

I had just played Act II of the Children of Echoes-focused story quest before rewatching the cutscene, and the symbol on Capitano's chest jumped out at me given the similar shape to Tlazolli's Blazegem Inscription in the screenshot on the right.

Some light speculation under the cut:

An important caveat: the symbol on Capitano's chest and the Blazegem Inscription are mirror images, they are not exact copies. It's a subtle difference, but you can see it if you look at the way the loops fold over each other.

What could this mean? Full disclosure, no I have not finished every world quest and explored all of Natlan yet lol. It's possible I am missing some really damning evidence for what this could mean, but I'll go off of what I've completed so far. The Blazegem Inscription is made with the same techniques used for Ancient Name forging, though from my understanding it isn't an Ancient Name in and of itself. It's draw is it's ability to resist erosion and preserve what's engraved on it throughout time.

So why is a similar symbol on Capitano's person? There's been some speculation that Capitano has more direct ties to Natlan, and to be honest I was pretty skeptical of those theories until the cutscene with Mavuika. Capitano talks about a couple of things that seem oddly specific and, if I may, personal about Natlan: the oath made five centuries ago, the ley lines destined for ruin, Mavuika's plan (also made 500 years ago), and Natlan's "rules." And Mavuika concurs: "But it sounds like this is about more than the Tsaritsa."

I have not touched a lot of world quests that deal with Xbalanque, but I understand that as the first Pyron Archon he is the one who fashioned Natlan's "rules" that allow for humans to ascend as Archons. Maybe it's not weird for Capitano to have some understanding of that, but it still strikes me as odd given everything else he seems to know.

Another small observation is that almost every Fatui harbinger we've dealt with has had some kind of personal connection to the region we encounter them in. Not so much for Childe or Signora in Liyue (Pantalone arc in Liyue DLC when), or Signora in Inazuma and Scaramouche in Sumeru, but there is precedent in Signora appearing in Mondstadt, Scaramouche in Inazuma, Dottore in Sumeru, and both Arlecchino and hints of Sandrone in Fontaine (Arlecchino's crimson moon dynasty origins not withstanding). All of this yapping is to say, Capitano's evidently otherworldly and uncanny qualities aside, he may have more direct ties to Teyvat and to Natlan specifically.

And another thing - why is Olorun from the Masters of the Night Wind collaborating with him?

[dragonfelling]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! Biggest dragon species in Ascendancy?

If you dont include the Gods themselves, then out of all the dragon species the largest is the almost extinct people that once fed off of Exitiums divinity: The Dragonfolk

They are a type of divine thing, like Griffins and Humonculi; who don't function like a mortal thing but they aren't Gods. A divine is a good term I suppose. Unlike other divine however they can reproduce.

After Exitium was almost killed and went into dormancy, their population dipped down from around 100 individuals down to a mere 10.

Even before that their population took a massive hit after a parasite that looked like golden flecks ravaged their bodies. They, and their sister species, the Draken (Known in 'modern' culture as the First Drakes) could not remove these scale parasites through fire nor picking them off themselves. Exitium for this reason relented into allowing a human population under his rule. The humans were small and dexterous enough to pull each parasite from under the scales of their dragon lords.

There are only a handful of these giants left, ones that have survived the ages through finding pockets of magic to feast upon. On the rare occasion, a Dragon will return to its homeland of Aiman to lay an egg after storing up immense energy- enough to last them the process and enough to supply its single young with enough yolk to last them until their first flight.

They are a rather typical dragon in a lot of ways. They carry pyrokinesis but some do have other forms of magic much how other folk have many types of blessings by their gods that have carried through their bloodlines. They also have a tendancy towards hoarding and once they lived very luxurious lives when they reigned over what was once Enkavaima (The territory that was taken over by the Anemoians)

Old art ^^^ Shows the gold fleck parasites being pulled off by humans

Unfished sketch of their whole body

Design wise, I'm thinking of shrinking their heads a bit, making them a tad smaller and making their wings look like oversized an albatross' wings. I also want to change their markings to look closed to an albatross mixed with an orca. Something something metaphors and symbolism

--

As for ANIMALS though, the largest is the Major Pinnae dragons. They are about the size of a tiger if you dont count their tails or wings- males being 5 ft from head to tail base and the females upwards of 7.5 ft They are the apex predator of Anemoi, and Pinna's favourite creation. They have reflective wings and stripes they use both in complex hunting habits and mating rituals

They can spit out a Pyrophoric chemical that allows them to breathe fire in a sense. This chemical acts like napalm and sticks to things. The fire is difficult to put out without the use of water to dilute it, as the fuel will just re-ignite in the presence of air and water vapour until its burnt up.

Female Pinnae Dragon in flight, flashing durring a storm.

Female Pinnae Dragon in flight, flashing durring a storm and displaying with its fire.

Female Pinnae Dragon eating a recently killed Diamonda

[val-in-the-underdark]

Grief, Pt. 2

I have a thread on Twitter talking about Astarion's grief that I will bring over here eventually, but it's something I thought of again while trying a new path last night.

I'm halfway through Act 3 with Val and I decided to see what would happen if I didn't take Astarion to Cazador's (I've done this quest like 8 times so I'm just doing separate saves to try things out).

It's a pretty rough path to go because Astarion is understandably upset. You robbed him of his choice to ascend or not, and his story is all about lack of free will (he and his siblings are enslaved after all), among several other things.

But if he doesn't break up with you, he tells you that Cazador held up a lot of space in his life and now he feels empty.

The quote before this is that Astarion thinks he would have felt differently if he had killed Cazador himself, but even if you take him with you, he says he feels numb and empty (said here if you defeat Cazador before dealing with Lorroakan).

Several characters in the game have this in common like Dame Aylin, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Wyll, who are all in different stages of mourning a loss. Losing a future. Losing family. Losing freedom.

Grief can be a non-linear process and not the same for everyone. The five stages often quoted are never in a straight line like you would think. You might feel angry right away and hold that for so long that you cycle through everything else later.

Astarion is angry for a lot of the game in part because he's grieving; he was young and then enslaved for centuries with nothing to call his own. He has lost everything including his sense of self, something he will have to rebuild over again after the ending of his quest, The Pale Elf. How he does that is up to you, but with Cazador gone, it's no wonder he feels lost after two centuries.

Lastly, and I find this interesting, is the conversation that Tav/Durge can have when about to kill Cazador (again, if you decide not to take Astarion).

I think that all the evidence you encounter in the palace and in the dungeon isn't there to make you feel bad for Cazador (I mean, you could but you'd be a better person than me LOL). The purpose of Vellioth's lessons and this particular dialogue, etc. is to foreshadow Astarion's potential transformation into the Vampire Ascendant.

Ascended Astarion is a new kind of vampire, yes, but he's still a full vampire. He's not 100% outside of the mentality that full vampires have. For instance, when he first tells you about Cazador in Act 1, he says that vampires are scheming and power-hungry beasts.

This is evidenced by things you find in Cazador's Palace including the fact that he was hosting a final "feast" before the ascension ritual where he was gathering information (pretty sure this person said they worked at the Counting House).

Ascended Astarion is doing something similar in the epilogue when he tells you to bring any secrets right back to him - he's scheming and biding his time just like Cazador.

While we don't know exactly is going through Astarion's mind when he ascends, I sometimes wonder if there is a layer of him trapped like Cazador. I've argued in another thread that I don't think Ascended Astarion will fully deal with his past the way Spawn Astarion has to in order to move on, but maybe I'll re-post that or revise that for another time.

Anyway, while this path is interesting for lore reasons if you really love Astarion, it does feel hollow and anti-climatic because there's a lot of emotional payoff in the final confrontation.

[rw-ascension-au]

Information.

next

Greetings, Invenot. I come bearing important information.

Have you found the Artificer or something?

You have guessed correctly. I do have a question, though. What happened to her to cause this karma affliction?

It'd be better to ask her yourself.

Another question, if you don't mind - could the 'rot' Hunter speaks of return at any point?

Sorry, Saint. I don't know. Missions are usually too short for it to come back, so even if it will affect her again, I have no idea.

I take it this is the longest mission you've given them, and by extension, me included?

Yeah. They wanted to go on a big adventure or something. I enjoy seeing them happy.

Very well then. Take care.

Bye!

----

(continued under the cut, this is rather long)

Hunter, are you comfortable with answering a few questions about the rot?

Uh, yeah, go ahead.

How long did it take for the rot to develop?

Well, I don't have a clear starting point, but not very long. Why?

I am simply... collecting information. How long do missions usually last?

... Saint. Are you implying something?

Until I have enough information, no.

I've already ascended. I won't rot again.

You seemed upset upon being asked by that weird overseer.

If I start rotting, you can just ascend me.

Invenot said that they removed the ability for whatever reason. My only hypothesis is that they want us to increase the Artificer's karma ourselves.

...

---

Go bug someone else with your questions.

Before I can do that, we most likely should find shelter. Where are the others?

Hunting.

We can meet them in the den. They will understand what to do.

You can go. You're, uh... annoying me.

If that is your wish.

---

Rivulet? Gourmand? What brings you here, before the others?

Riv thought it'd be a good idea to try and do that spinny-spear thing Spearmaster does.

I almost succeeded! Plus, I have a cool bandage thing now! I look tough, right?

It is not up to me to define it. Though I would say that you have been through your own hardships and still retain a high level of optimism that only colony slugpups would carry. That is an impressive feat.

...oh. Cool. Is that yes or no?

It depends on your personal definition. Anyway, if you're both here, I would like to ask something.

Go on.

Do any of you have experience interacting with rot?

Oh! I do! I had to get a rarefaction cell from a rotting iterator! Five Pebbles!

Do you believe hunter could re-gain the rot during our mission?

...

...

I was the medic for my colony. I wasn't trained in dealing with rot, though. That's a specialised kind of medic, whereas I was more trained for helping with general stuff.

Would Hunter be able to endure a journey to a colony, whilst rotting?

I don't know. Plus, rot is never cured, really. Mostly just... delayed.

That might be able to buy us enough time to get to the Void Sea.

The rot might not even happen.

That is our hope, yes.

---

[survivor] We're back!

Where is Hunter?

[survivor] She said she wanted some time to reflect on something.

[monk] Artificer, can I get down now?

Ah, yes, Artificer. May I ask what happened to your karma?

I don't know. Probably something to do with the explosion thing. Or the scavengers. I don't really care.

You need to care in order to ascend.

Why would I want to do so?

You have achieved all you have wanted to, correct?

...mostly.

What is your final goal?

Either to kill every last scavenger or to see those two again.

Which 'two' do you speak of?

My... my pups.

That explains a lot regarding the way you seem to have adopted Monk.

[survivor] and me, kind of.

We should start eating.

And what about Hunter?

I was gonna save some for her.

Do you have fruit of some kind?

I do! I carry some blue fruit in my bag.

I accept the fruit with gratitude, Gourmand.

---

It can't come back.

Right?

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 stay by my side by ravenditefairylights

🔒💙 stay by my side

by ravenditefairylights (@ravenditefairylights)

T, 27k, Wangxian

Part of the MDZS Reverse Big Bang: 2022

Summary: “A-Ying,” Lan Wangji says quietly, trying to gauge whether the boy is asleep. Even as the boy’s figure tenses and his head peaks out from the rest of his body to look around, he doesn’t stop shaking. His clothes are wet, Lan Wangji can see in the candlelight, clinging to his skin. Winter has not yet passed. The boy must be freezing. “Hello?” A-Ying asks hesitantly, looking around. His eyes are big, but despite some suspicion in their depths, the boy mostly looks curious. “Hello, A-Ying,” Lan Wangji says kindly. “I heard that you prayed to me.” --- a boy, a god and a rebellion against the empire Kay's comments: THIS STORY!! I love it very much and I recently re-read it and it immediately had me hooked once again. This story really has everything. I loved the historical world building with the cultivation sects having fallen a thousand years ago and everyone living under the Wens' tyranny ever since, I loved God!Lan Wangji, who looks out for abandoned children and makes sure Wei Wuxian finds his way to the Jiangs, where he is raised as Jiang Cheng's and Jiang Yanli's personal servant, I absolutely adored Hanguang-Jun hypeman and the very best wing man Lan Jingyi and I loved how Lan Wangji didn't want to admit to himself that he had fallen in love with Wei Wuxian, very in-character for him. Also, the identity shenanigans were very fun! Exerpt: “It is an honour to meet you, Lan- gongzi ,” Wei Wuxian says politely with another bow. “This lowly one is Wei Ying, courtesy Wuxian.” “You have a courtesy name?” Lan Jingyi asks, surprised. Wei Wuxian is used to this surprise and doesn’t do anything other than nod. Lan Jingyi doesn’t pry either—must be the famous Lan restraint to abstain from gossip. “Come with me, I’ll show you to the guest dormitories.” “Many thanks, Lan- gongzi ,” Wei Wuxian replies. Lan Jingyi takes him through the grounds with only a lantern to light the way. Wei Wuxian has missed his chance to explore, but still… “Lan- gongzi , may this one ask you a question?” “Yeah, sure,” Lan Jingyi says. When he shrugs, the lantern he’s carrying gets jostled and the light plays on the shadows around them. “Is it true that the Cloud Recesses have the first temple that was built for Hanguang-jun?” Wei Wuxian asks. “And Zewu-jun?” he adds quickly, in case Lan Jingyi is offended that he’s included only one of them in his question. Lan Jingyi’s face brightens up under the yellow light. “Yeah! Hanguang-jun is the best —and Zewu-jun, of course, but he’s not as cool as Hanguang-jun, although he’s so close. Zewu-jun and Hanguang-jun were the last cultivators to ascend to immortality before the shift into the Wen dynasty when the cultivation clans were wiped out. They were both sons from the direct family line in charge of the Lan Sect—Zewu-jun was the heir and then the sect leader when their father, Qingheng-jun, also ascended to the Heavenly Realm. Zewu-jun is the god who protects leaders and musicians—you may note that his statues always depict him playing the xiao—he’s a martial god regardless, like his younger brother, Hanguang-jun.” Wei Wuxian knows all of this, but he doesn’t interrupt. Lan Jingyi sounds as excited to tell him about them as Wei Wuxian is to hear about Hanguang-jun again.

pov lan wangji, pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, god lan wangji, tgcf, tian guan ci fu fusion, historical, sunshot campaign, secret identity, identity porn, identity reveal, worship, angst with a happy ending, age difference, friends to lovers

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[flusteredmoonn]

last kiss; james potter

summary: "i never thought we'd have a last kiss," in which what was meant to be a ruse to fool the dark lord works all too well.

tags: (SFW), angst, one sided angst, attempted angst, post-hogwarts! james and reader, long build up for a whole lotta nothing ngl, canon divergent, she/her pronouns, third person y/n.

words: 1.2k+

speak now tracklist. request.

her heart dropped the moment she had learnt of the prophecy. a prophecy which cast a certain darkness looming eerily through the rest of the meetings attendees. she wasn't sure if it was a darkness which hung or the tension as sybil trewlawney spoke the prediction to life. her voice shook as albus dumbledore pulled her aside for further questioning.

the silence was deafening. very few members of the order dared to share glances amongst them. her words still danced through the room.

a pair, one must die at the other's hand, for neither can live whilst the other survives.

suddenly, james dared to look at his girlfriend, who had already been looking at him. his heart dropped. a pair, they were a pair... of sorts, they were a couple. but surely not, surely there was more to this that was being withheld from the rest of the organisation. surely there was more to it, which was being revealed in the other room as he spiralled.

breaking the gaze he held with y/n, he scanned the rest of the room, categorising who the prophecy could possibly be referencing. it wasn't himself, it certainly couldn't be, he was being too simple minded.

meanwhile, at the opposite end of the table, y/n removed her lasting gaze at the boy, instead diverting it toward the doorway where sybil and albus conversed. clearly, the older man had cast a silencing charm over the threshold, so the true details were inaudible. however, the young woman, an ex student of his, looked frantic as she, assumedly, recited the prophecy over again. she waved her hands around, as the man stood before her stoically.

part of the girl flinched as she watched albus dumbledore pulled out his wand and held it to the young woman's head. low gasps erupted through the room as many of the other members of the order were shamelessly spying on the two in the adjoining room. although it was swiftly followed by a low sigh of relief as they watched him pull a memory from her head.

y/n turned back toward james, trying to read his expression. it was unusual for her to be able to do so, which is what was so concerning for her. though her focus broke when dumbledore re-entered the room, dismissing the meeting, with hushed murmurs of gossip between it's members as they ascended the stairs.

weeks passed before the next meeting. everyone being shocked at the claims which the prophecy held, setting them all on edge, particularly if they had found themselves romantically involved. even so, the meeting was not between the entirety of the order, but between james, y/n and dumbledore. the couple was summoned abruptly one day, as rain filled the streets of muggle london.

openly, their former head master cast a silencing spell on the room they walked into, before offering that the pair take a seat. hesitantly they both obliged.

"how are you both today," the man asked sweetly, reaching for a sherbet flavoured sweet from the confectionary bowl on the table between himself and the couple.

"good, thank you, professor," james responded respectfully, being followed by y/n uttering a similar reply, and in turn asking how the older man was.

"not too shaken up by sybil?" his voice held solemn sincerity, "i wouldn't blame you if you were," his kind eyes smiling at them.

"no," the girl said confidently, looking to james, "uh, no, i don't think so," she concluded with a smile, her gaze returning to the man.

"good, good. i knew you wouldn't be," an awkwardness around through the room, both y/n and james wondering what the need was to cast a silencing charm over the room when they were merely exchanging pleasantries. though their confusion quickly reached a resolve when dumbledore broke the news to them.

despite the inability for sybil trewlawney to confirm who the prophecy had regarded, most factors pointed to james and y/n. the vast seriousness of their relationship, and the ever growing increase in both muggle and wizarding deaths at the hands of their opposition. dumbledore solemnly revealed that it was not directly related to them, but rather to any children they may share, which the foreseeing ravenclaw had declared the other side had deemed prematurely marked for death.

the couple looked to one another, unsure of what to say to their former professor. however, very quickly, albus dumbledore presented them with a solution, one which they were very agreeable towards.

"be safe," y/n whispered to the curly haired boy as she embraced him tightly.

"of course i will be, it'll be hard not to," he humoured, though his voice was missing the usual humour it typically possessed. this departure hurt them both deeply. the uncertainty of the future, and the war that tormented them from a distance. eventually, they separated, though not before she pressed a sincere kiss to her boyfriend's lips.

"and you too, lils, be careful. you're putting yourself in such a compromising position," she turned to the red head standing next to james, before being brought into a soft hug from her.

"thank you, you be careful too alright?" her voice truthful, and tone remaining composed, a stark difference from what james had sounded like just before. and soon, the three promised each other to write when they were sure that the owls would not be intercepted.

years had passed and y/n had yet to hear from either her boyfriend or from lily. with each passing day she grew more and more concerned, especially when the safety of the wizarding world was closer and closer to toppling.

her heart rate picked up when a tawny owl knocked it's beak on the glass of her window. rushing over, she opened the glass pane, thanking the creature and taking the envelope from it's beak gracefully. she watched the bird fly away until it was out of sight before ripping open the letter, and reading the inked words on the parchment.

tears glazed her eyes, threatening to run over her cheeks when the first words were comprehended, we regret to inform you, of the loss of james potter, the words read. firstly, she thought of his parents, the hurt they must be suffering as their only child had no when declared deceased. her heart hurt for them, and for herself. and the loss of lily evans, the next line read, hurting her equally.

it couldn't be, this couldn't be true. it had to be some form of sadistic prank. but deep down, she knew even his friends would not go this far, with something so close to home for all of them. he was gone.

part of her held joy for james, knowing he would go down in history, for the sacrifice his death held to the wizarding world and the end of the wizarding war. she had heard that lily and james had a son, harry, and as much as it hurt her at the time. she couldn't blame either of them, she knew the impact of the war, and when they had left there was no end in sight. she knew that when she saw him again, he would be a different person. and of his past feelings toward lily. so really, it was inevitable.

after finishing reading the letter, she held it to her lips, reminiscing on their last goodbye, and the way he held her. she knew he loved her, until the end.

[littlelovelyra]

In Darkness, Hope Flickers. Chapter 1 (Mourning)

Ascended Astarion x Female Durge vampire spawn/consort (Named Lilah)

"This was the best choice, you made the right choice. You repeat those lines in your mind several times. You do not regret this… do you?"

New Series! From Astarion and Lilah's (named F!Durge) perspective

(her previous name was Nyx but I wasn't vibing with it so I am changing it to Lilah)

Ao3 if you prefer

Notes on this series before you start: I explore Ascended Astarion. In this world, I have chosen to have him find himself again as the series progresses. Now I know there are heated discussions that Ascended Astarion is bad so please think of this as a re-imagining of his story where yes, he has a lapse in judgment out of fear and ascends. However, I think it would be beautiful to have him redeem himself, defying what it is to be a vampire lord. Eventually, breaking the cycle of abuse. There will also be some moments in this series with Lilah (tav) and Halsin as the story plays out. I won't say too much.

Series Summary/where we start:

It happened, Astarion’s ascension. The man you once loved is no longer present, instead, in his place looms a darker, dominant remnant of him. You foolishly accepted his offer of being his consort, believing that he would turn you into a true vampire, much like him. It has been one week since your turn, and as each day passes you start to doubt that promise. There are moments where you see flickers of his old self, however, they are small moments that do not last long.

Warnings: Ascended Astarion, Dom vibes, jealousy, possessiveness, Consort Tav, Dark urge tav, PiV, Sex, let me know if i miss anything

MINORS DNI

Lilah

Thrust. “Hmph.” Thrust. “Gods, you’re perfect.” Thrust. Sweat drips down the side of your face as his grip tightens on your hips, gliding one hand up your spine he snakes it around and pulls you up by the base of your neck. The sweat that has settled on his chest feels cold against your back that is now pressed against him and you rock your body up and down his manhood. It is in these moments where you feel the most connected to him, you can close your eyes and pretend he is still the same man he was before his ascension.

“Hmph. So eager, my pet.” The curls of his hair tickle your face as he drops his head down nudging yours to the side, exposing your neck. As he clamps down to drink an orgasm ripples through your body and you feel his hand gently squeeze the base of your neck near your collarbone. He releases his bite and pushes you back face down on the bed. Firm hands once again grip your hips as his thrusts slam into you and you feel the pace quicken.

Thrust.

Thrust.

Thrust.

You feel his body stiffen behind you as he takes one last plunge deep into your core and ecstasy rips through his body sending waves of small spasms jolting through him. He pauses a moment, making sure all his spend has been emptied and he flips you over onto your back his crimson eyes are ablaze as he stares at you.

“My most beloved, spawn, my dark consort. How delicious you look, covered in sweat and breathing heavily for me.” His hand runs up your stomach as he catches your chin between his thumb and index finger. Releasing his grip he brings his hand to his mouth, punctures an opening on his middle finger and brings it down slowly pushing it to your mouth. Eagerly you drink the small amount he is willing to offer you as part of your hopes that this is the moment he allows you true vampirism. But this feels the same as any other time, the only intention he has is to show you he is in control and only he decides when it’s your turn.

Tears sting your eyes and your vision becomes blurry, how long would you subject yourself to these games? You could run away, you still have the tadpole but it won’t be forever. Even if you ran away, once the tadpole was gone, you were still under his control. What a fool you were in allowing him to ascend, at the time, you thought supporting what he wanted was the right thing to do. You knew what it was like to live in fear, Bhaal had the same effect on you. If you could take it all back you would. You now know that fear isn’t a bad thing, not if you have support around you. But what’s done is done, you cannot take any of it back and these are the consequences you now live with.

“Little love, whatever could be the matter?” He cocks his head to the side and for a moment you thought you caught a glimpse of genuine concern in his eyes.

“Astarion, it’s been a week… I’m starting to believe that maybe you have no intention of turning me into a true vampire.” There is a slight wobble to your voice, you are nervous. Bringing this up always ends with him angered and asserting his power over you.

“How many times do we have to have this discussion? It will happen when I am ready for it to happen. If you keep bringing it up I’ll make you wait longer. Do not test my patience.” He moves off the bed to dress himself for the day and you watch him move around the room, your heart aches for the loss of the man you loved.

Without a word, you clean yourself up, get dressed and move to the door to leave your private quarters.

“And where do you think you’re going?” His voice is cold and commanding, if it weren’t for the tadpole you assumed you wouldn’t be able to move in this moment. Instead, utilising the temporary freedom you have, you exit the room. Not a single acknowledgment comes from you at his question.

Before you know it you have found yourself standing in front of Halsin, as he is lost in whittling yet another duck for his collection. You softly clear your throat which grabs his attention.

“Sorry, I was distracted, you know what I’m like when I whittle.” He stands up and his brow furrows as he looks at you. “You have been crying. You have done that a lot recently. What can I do to make it better?” He pulls you into a soft hug and you let him, you know you shouldn’t but you and Halsin have had special arrangements previously. You weren’t sure where they stood now, but you didn’t care to ask Astarion. Not when he is the way he is and Halsin would gladly be whatever you needed him to be.

“Things are different with him, Halsin. He’s changed for the worse. I don’t know what to do, I feel like a fool.” You whisper into his chest unable to control the soft sobs that leave your lips.

“You did the best you could do, your choices were made in love. Do not fault yourself for loving someone the way you love him.” He bends his head and softly places a kiss on your forehead. A rush of shame fills you, you do not wish to lead him on, however, his warmth is welcoming.

“Halsin, I… I do not wish to lead you on. I love him… I just don’t know what to do.” You tilt your head to meet his soft eyes as he holds you.

“Lilah, I will be whatever you need me to be. The time we spent together intimately will be etched into my memory for as long as I live. If that is where our intimate connection stops, I will hold it dearly. If you require a friend, I will be just that.” He strokes his hand down the side of your face, his smile is earnest, and he means every word he says.

“Well, what do we have here?” A voice cuts through the air, you can almost taste the venom laced in each word. As you turn to face him, Halsin has respectfully let you go and stands at your side with his jaw clenched. “I leave my consort alone for five minutes and the animals descend. Have you no shame, Halsin? Or do you prefer indulging in my leftovers?” The words cut through your heart like a blade.

“Leftovers? LEFTOVERS?” You have never heard Halsin raise his voice and the entire camp stops. “If you dare speak that way of her again Astarion I will do what I must to protect her honour.” Halsin places a protective step between you and Astarion, you watch as delight spreads across his face at the challenge laid before him.

“Hah! You can try. She belongs to me and only me. I know we had our past arrangements but your… services are no longer needed, Halsin.” Astarion’s face is smug as he watches Halsin wince at the words. Your heart hurts for the druid and you wish you could do something to ease his shame. Rage floods your veins, it has been a while since your past affected you and you know you will never fully get rid of it.

“Astarion. That is enough. Halsin is my friend and I am entitled to spend my time however I please.” You watch as his crimson eyes glow with anger at your disrespect. “So long as I have this tadpole in my head, I have free will and I will enjoy every. Single. Moment of it.” You take Halsin by the hand and exit the shared quarters leaving Astarion speechless and seething behind you.

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Astarion:

As you walk into the shared quarters you find her in the arms of the druid and you watch him run his hand softly down the side of her cheek. Something drops in the pit of your stomach, it feels like, pain. Nonsense. You are the Vampire Ascendant, you do not feel emotional pain, you do not feel jealousy and you certainly do not allow another man to run his hands over what belongs to you. A powerful being such as yourself does not need lovers’ quarrels and matters of the heart. You are no longer a weakling. Let her have her time with Halsin, you know that she would not dare be physical with him, no, your consort is infatuated with you.

However, you find yourself with some free time today, perhaps you could indulge with some good old-fashioned stalking. Put your pet to the test and see what she does with her delusion of freedom. While you are watching her you could think of a plan to reel her back in line, maybe dangle some warmth her way… tell her you love her, tell her she is the best thing that has happened to you and make her feel special. It would be easy, you know how she waits to be commanded. You hear it in the way her breath stills when you speak and see it in her eyes as they stay glued to your every move.

Keeping track of them isn’t hard, even in a crowd of people Halsin sticks out like a sore thumb. You can say what you want about the druid but the one thing he has going for himself is the sheer size of him. No one would want to mess with that. You carefully watch as they walk the streets and it doesn’t escape your attention that his hand brushes against hers now and then. You feel a twitch of something in your chest every time his hand touches hers. A feeling you should not be experiencing, is that… jealousy? It couldn’t be, no, you are merely annoyed that someone else is touching something that belongs to you. Simple.

You follow them through Balder’s Gate as they make their way toward Rivington. What is your plan druid? You think to yourself watching them descend the hill towards a secluded beach. You notice that just above the shoreline where they sit is a cliff that has many bushes surrounding it. As you stealthily make your way, you slip into the shadows of the shrubbery and listen.

“Are you alright, my heart?” The druid places his hand atop hers and you see her face flush as she turns to him.

“I am as good as I can be. Halsin, I… I am so sorry for the way he spoke to you. You did not deserve that.” She places her free hand on his cheek and you feel a deep rage settle in your chest.

“You’re apologising? You need not apologise to me. The way he spoke of you… as if you meant nothing more than scraps. It enraged me.” Halsin’s voice hardens at the memory and part of you regrets your choice of words when it came to her. She is not your leftovers… why you chose those words, you will never understand. The pain on her face when those words hit her left you feeling… ashamed. You will not dwell on it, that is yet another sign of weakness and you were past that. She should know better.

“Perhaps he is right, maybe I am not worth more than that. Look what I have done to myself… all for him. Have I no self-respect?” You hear the quiver in her voice it cracks and gives way to her sobs and a familiar feeling settles in the pit of your stomach.

Halsin pulls her into his arms, lifts her face to his and you watch as he brings his lips to hers. I am going to make him bleed for that. Your thoughts are full of anger and disbelief as you see for a moment she leans into him and suddenly releases the kiss.

“I still love him… I’m so sorry. I wish I could turn it off but I can’t, I’m pathetic.” Her voice sounds small, defeated and you are not sure how to feel about this. On the one side, this gives you the upper hand and you realise how much power you hold over her. On the other side, there is a small desire to show her that as your consort she is certainly not pathetic, you would never allow your consort to be anything but perfect.

“Love makes fools of us all, Lilah. Perhaps in time, you will learn how to move on from the man he once was and if you were to open yourself to another, I would be there. But if that doesn’t happen I am here all the same as your friend.” He wraps his arm around her shoulder.

“And you would be happy? Just as my friend?” She asks quietly.

“As long as I am in your life in some capacity, I will be happy.” He replies.

“Halsin? If that day ever came, if I was ever able to stop loving him… I would come to find you and if you weren’t committed to another maybe we could be together then.” Her voice is soft as she places her hand on his shoulder.

“I would not settle down, perhaps take lovers, but settle down? I have only ever wanted that from you. I do not imagine it would change.” The druid smiles at her and looks out onto the ocean.

You do not wish to hear any more of this conversation and as you quietly make your way back up the hill you find yourself thinking of what you would do if she left you. If she were to move on to love another. Your stomach twists and you become nauseous at the thought. You would not allow that to happen. She is yours… she could never be anyone else’s.

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Lilah:

After spending the day with Halsin you feel better. This morning’s drama rattled you and that word still lingers in your mind… leftovers… is that what he truly thinks of you? If that was the case, then perhaps it was time for you to rethink your relationship with him. You can’t spend your eternity like this, under his torment.

As you and Halsin enter the Elfsong Tavern and head upstairs to the shared quarters you notice the door to your private room is open. You glance at Halsin who gives you a small nod followed by an understanding smile. He places a soft kiss on your cheek and enters the shared room.

Sighing to yourself you slowly enter your private quarters and find Astarion sitting on the chair in the corner of the room.

“Did you enjoy yourself? You caused quite the scene this morning.” His voice is cool and unbothered, his ruby eyes glisten watching you, waiting for your response.

“It was not I who caused a scene this morning, master.” You spit out the last word at him and you see a quick wince from him, you would have missed it had you blinked.

“Now my darling consort… you need not address me as master, but you know that don’t you?” He rises from his chair and crosses the room. Gently he cups your face and leans in to kiss you tenderly. The softness of the kiss surprises you, he has not kissed you like this since his ascension. Maybe you have finally gotten through to him. He pulls back and holds your gaze while his thumb lazily runs along your jaw.

“I do rather like that, you know?” His voice is soft, and sweet and sounds almost vulnerable.

“Oh, you do? I would have thought you would have been disgusted since I am nothing but leftovers.” Your voice cracks and tears sting your eyes once more as you glare at him.

“My love, I didn’t mean it. I was caught up in the heat of the moment. You should know that you are much more than that. You are my consort, I would never think so little of you.” He trails kisses along your jawline and down your neck. Your head becomes dizzy at his soft touch. “You are my most beloved spawn.” As soon as the words leave his mouth you are snapped back into reality.

“That is all I will ever be to you, won’t it? Your spawn? You never intend for me to become a true vampire.” Your voice is soft as you whisper out the realisation.

“Darling, I’m hurt. You think so little of me… I simply want to get used to this power before we take the next step… after all, we have all eternity, what is the rush?” His words flow through you like honey and you cannot find the words to argue with him. “I don’t wish to fight with you, can’t we just forget what happened this morning?” He kisses you down your neck once again.

“Do you love me?” The question spills out from your lips and you feel him freeze.

“Of course I love you. Why would you ever doubt that, my love?” He turns you to face him and yet again for a moment, you see a small flicker of genuine concern that is soon masked by his newfound confidence. You pray to whatever gods are listening that he means it because you cannot let him go. Not yet.

“Little love, let me show you just how much you mean to me?” His breath is hot in your ear as he leads you to the bed.

“Do you think… we could just lay together? Like we used to?” You watch his face as he contemplates your request.

“If that will make my consort happy, then that is what we shall do.” There is a calculated look in his smile but you push it aside for this moment of intimacy. You have not held each other like this since his ascension and as you lay there in his arms you close your eyes for a moment, sleep finds you quickly.

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Astarion:

As you lay there with her on your chest, memories fill your mind. Memories of nights when the two of you lay cuddled together sharing laughs, secrets and dreams. A small twang of emotion shoots itself across your chest and you shove it down, you were pathetic then and you will never be ever again. If she loved you then surely she would love you now, especially when you can offer her power beyond measure. She would never have to feel afraid again, and neither would you. This was the best choice, you made the right choice. You repeat those lines in your mind several times. You do not regret this… do you?

No. You can’t and won’t regret this. She will learn to appreciate the powerful vampire you have become and once she realises your power she will understand why this was the right decision. You will enjoy this and you will build yourself an empire. For the both of you. No one could stop you.