#she finds other people draining and is very aware of the fact

[ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes]

It is…. Interesting how little patience someone can have

[thatfreshi]

Can I request Astarion x reader and he drinks from u when your standing and your legs buckle and you start to collapse from the blood loss but he catches you and Carries you to your bedroll and takes care of you?

Forgive me if it's rough, still trying to figure out the speech patterns!

Recommended Song: Ivy - SALES

It usually wasn’t often that Astarion asked to feed on you. Sadly, resources have been scarce, wild animals included. Anytime Lae’zel is out scouting she tries to bring something back for him, but to no avail. Recently, he had been asking quite often, and there is always an air of guilt in his question. 

“I’m sorry to ask my love, I just worry the others will see me differently, if I were to feed on one of them.”

It’s not as if your other companions aren’t aware of his situation, or the fact that you have to satiate him every once in a while. You think he simply feels like a burden, having to ask people for the very thing that sustains him. He just feels a little less like a burden when he asks you.

“Of course dear, no need to be sorry.”

You’ve gotten used to how this goes, as you’ve been travelling together for quite some time, and you and Astarion got smitten rather quickly. He’s always quite gentle, even if it does hurt at first. Instead of sitting down however, you continue working on stitching up a piece of your sleep-wear. With powerful magic from the likes of Gale and Shadowheart, you think such minute things could be fixed easily, but alas, they still require a realistic solution.

While you’re busy putting to work the simple stitch he taught you, Astarion moves to drink, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Many would think that the act of being drained of your own blood would be, well, terrifying, but something about it is quite intimate, heartwarming even. You don’t even really think about how your veins start running cold, how you start to feel much worse than normal. Then, you’re on the ground, needle and thread along with you. 

“Darling! I apologize, I should’ve had you lie down first, I should’ve-” 

He cuts off his own words as he scrambles to think. You’re still not fully there, but you want to tell him you’re fine. Sadly, eyes can’t always tell all. Even your parasite seems too drained to connect with him. When you regain some of your senses, you see that Astarion has brought you back to your bedroll, muttering something to himself, pacing the tent.

“I could’ve waited, I would’ve been fine. I-”

He pauses, realizing you’ve started to stir.

“Tav, darling, are you alright?”

You try sitting up, and he quickly moves to support your back, wrapping his arm around you waist.

“Yeah… yeah I’m okay.”

“I apologize, I knew it was a risk to feed on you again so soon. I put you in a terrible position, asking you like that.”

You reach to put your hand over his.

“No, it’s alright. I’ve become so nonchalant about it, I should’ve been much more considerate of the circumstances.”

He’s silent, trying to find another way to blame himself. The truth is, both of you were quite tired from the recent adventuring, and weren’t thinking straight. 

“I’ll tell them all we should stay at camp for another day. Or perhaps they can journey back to the Grove and we can stay for another evening.”

You tighten your grasp on his hand until he finally make eye contact with you.

“Astarion, it’s fine, truly. I’ll be fine tomorrow, come morning.”

You smile at him, despite the nausea caught in your throat. He feels bad enough, no use in making it worse. 

“Here, come lie with me.”

You meet the ground once again, and he joins you shortly after. He still has that look, that dreary mist across his eyes. Instead of trying to tell him in words, you nestle into his side, wrapping yourself around him, a way of saying ‘I still love you, no matter what.’ He leaves a kiss on your forehead, and finally lets the tension go. You close your eyes soon after, exhausted. Astarion never tells you, but he stayed awake and by your side the entire night, unmoving, just in case.

[cathrrrine]

Perfect / Love Won’t Die

Dominick “Sonny” Carisi x Reader • Law and Order SVU • Domestic Fluff, AFAB!Reader

Summary: Sonny happily holds the bouquet of flowers he bought for his girlfriend only for her to open the door and start crying. He immediately panics, but soon finds himself amused when she reveals the true reason for her tears. AO3

A/N: I’ve never posted any of my SVU imagines, but I had to with this one :) Happy 2024! My resolution is to post more of my work so I’m digging through all my drafts and posting them lol. Enjoy husband material Carisi <3

In all the six months you had been dating Sonny, there were never many problems that couldn’t be resolved with a simple conversation or a hug and a kiss on the cheek. As far as Sonny was concerned, it was the perfect relationship. He had gotten to know all your little habits; likes and dislikes, pet peeves, niche obsessions. Six months wasn’t exactly a super long time but it wasn’t short either. After only half a year of dating each other, he’d confidently testify that he had fallen in love with you deeply, enough to want to spend the rest of his life with you. He was happy to get married, have babies, grow old together…the whole shebang.

Things were going steady with you. He couldn’t imagine himself being with anybody else, and he was over the moon to know that you felt the samw way. Long late-night conversations about the future the two of you dreamed of revealed that you wanted him to be a part of it as much as he wanted you. Sure, Sonny was aware of how much of a (hopeless) romantic he could be sometimes, but that was in the past, and all of those relationships weren’t with the right people. His sisters had been talking his ear off ever since high school, warning him about women that would only break his heart. It made him wince just to think about all the red flags they ticked off angrily; gold-diggers, manipulators, emotionally unstable women, emotionally unavailable women…and the likes of it. That and their own broken-heart experiences that prompted very fuelled lectures of examples of men Sonny shouldn’t follow always rang in his mind, even until now.

He’d also been made well aware of how right they were about his exes with a bunch of ‘I told you so’s’ and narrowed eyes, but those relationships were in the past and he was much, much younger (and dumber) than he is now. He only had a couple of serious relationships in his adulthood, which ended up not being the right fit for either parties. Then, his love life got buried under the heavy, heavy load of police work and law school and he never found the time to make himself available in the dating pool. He was always too tired, too beat, too mentally drained. It was never a priority.

Then everything came to a stop and his whole world wouldn’t do anything but revolve around you. Sonny was smitten, like a lovesick puppy who got shot by cupid’s nuclear-powered bazooka as fate would have it.

He never felt this way about anyone in his life before, it was a feeling he relished in and was adamant on not letting go.

You were perfect.

Obviously, you had your flaws, but all only human, none of them fatal. Like how you had a habit of ordering too much food but he ends up being the one to finish it up when you realised your eyes had been bigger than your appetite — but he didn’t mind that at all, in fact he secretly loved being able to feast like a King — or how sometimes, you would arrive 10 minutes late to your dates on one of your busiest weeks, which he never complained about because he had his fair share of being unpunctual as well. Plus, you always made it up to him one way or another.

You were absolutely perfect, inside and out. Sonny thanked God everyday for sending a woman as smart, beautiful and kind as you his way. He’s never felt so lucky.

Sonny knew and loved everything about you, down to your weirdest quirks. If there was a Jeopardy! game where the topic was You, he’d be waving around his trophy like a mad man. What you didn’t tell him, he learned. It was the same way you got to know him. The two of you were always honest with each other, trust being the pillar of your relationship, it was why you got along so well. You knew how to make him happy, as he did for you.

So, why is it that you were crying as he handed you a bouquet of your favourite flowers as soon as you opened the door to your apartment?

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His sweet smile dropped to a concerned frown, uncomfortable and nervous at your sudden reaction.

There you were in front of him, dressed in your most comfortable pair of pyjama pants and an oversized tee that he was sure once belonged to him, messy hair up that he found extremely adorable. Nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that…well, you were crying.

He always brought you flowers. Was he late? He glanced at the clock on your wall. No…was it something he said? Something he did? Something…he totally forgot about?

“Nothing- no, everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong.” You sniffed, hugging the fresh bouquet close to your chest, dipping your nose into the floral fragrance to smell it only to find that the tears had triggered an onslaught of snot. That only made you cry more.

The bubble of nerves in Sonny’s chest was bursting at this point, he was almost worried he was having a heart attack. “Doll, you’re crying, something’s wrong.”

He held out an arm to pull you into a hug and you eagerly sunk into his embrace. You buried your face into the fabric of his suit jacket, breathing in what you could of his faded perfume. His calloused hands stroked your hair, softly caressing your head as he cradled it. He gently peeled you off of him to get a better look of your face, now red and eyes puffy from sobbing.

He held your cheeks between his palms and you pouted, looking up at him with sad doe-like eyes, and if that didn’t break his heart that he must not have one because the look on your face was shattering him in every possible way right now. One of his thumbs swiped a fresh tear off your cheek, he felt you nuzzle into his hand.

The tall blond gently led you to your couch and set the flowers down on the coffee table before cuddling up with you close to his chest. You wrapped your arms around him desperately, wanting nothing more than to be absolutely engulfed by everything Sonny — scent, skin and biceps.

“You’re killing me sweetheart, you gotta tell me what’s gotten you all upset like this.” You felt him kiss the top of your head and love bloomed in your chest immediately. “Come on, doll, what’s up?”

You sighed, big and loud, huffing away all the choked up tears with one big breath. “I swear it’s nothing. I’m so stupid.”

He was quiet for a while until you felt his voice vibrate from his chest again, “Was it…me? Did I do something wrong?”

You whipped your head to look at him, only to be greeted with a very worried expression.

Oh, Sonny. Oh, sweet heavenly innocent Sonny. How could you not love this man with every fibre of your being when he’s got that look in his eyes? The one where his pupils are so dilated, you could see your reflection in his big, blue puppy eyes.

How could you have been so careless?! Of course he’d think you were crying because of him, the sweet stupid man — God, you loved him so much. The thought only made you more emotional…and just like that the waterworks came rushing back in.

“Oh, God, Sonny-“ you hiccuped, pulling yourself away from him to put your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry- it’s not your fault at all,”

The lovesick, worried-sick man shot up next to you to pull you into his arms once again, stomach churning at the wave of emotions you were going through. He couldn’t even detective his way through this, his mind going haywire with every sniff that came from you.

“Then what is it?” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, “Did something happen at work? Is it that asshole again?”

With what he dealt with at his job, it wasn’t out of the question for his mind to be going down that dark path, but he shoved his anger and panic down to focus on your well-being, remaining rational until you were calm.

That made you shoot up to look at him again, words tumbling out of your mouth hurriedly to curb his worries. “No, no! I’m okay, I’m absolutely fine, Todd — that ass — didn’t do anything to me, I promise you, I swear to God. And it’s not you, it’s not anything even remotely related to anything sane at all. I don’t even know why I’m getting all worked up over a bunch of random things, it’s just so—“

“Doll.” Your boyfriend’s voice pulled you out of your rambling. The loving concern that radiated off of him was enough to bring you back to your senses. Gently, he asked again. “What is it?”

You melted immediately, both embarrassed and exhausted from all the sobbing you had been doing. “I’m on my period.”

Oh.

Oh!

“I know, I’m not usually this emotionally affected but my hormones are all over the place and my TV decided to autoplay The Notebook, now I’m a mess.” You sniffed. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have seen me like this, much less deal with me.”

It was only then that the detective noticed the TV screen, paused on Ryan Gosling’s frowning face.

He tried to stifle his amusement, but it came out in a fit of giggles, much to your dismay.

“It’s not funny.” You pouted.

“I just— I thought—“ His laughter consumed him, shoulders shaking as he held up his palms to his face and ran his fingers through his hair, uncaring of how it would mess it up. Sonny leaned back into the couch and continued to laugh with his hands over his face.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was so quiet it came out like a squeak, ashamed of how you cried like a baby in front of him. Although the two of you spent plenty times over at each other’s places and hanging out with each other, over the six months he knew you, you never had your hormones hit you this hard. It wasn’t uncommon to you, but it wasn’t a regular occurrence either, and it certainly wasn’t an event Sonny had the pleasure of experiencing…until today.

“It’s okay if you’d prefer to be at your own place right now, I totally get it. I won’t be offended in the least, okay? I’ll call you in the morning.” Some men in the past have been weirded out when this happened to you, so you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be offended — it was ‘your fault’ anyway, that was what you had grown accustomed to.

But Sonny, the ever-loving and understanding guy, did not share the same view. Of course not! Raised-with-sisters, loves-his-mother, thoroughly Italian, good-Catholic-man-who-respects-women Sonny, would never in a million years ever even think about being upset with you just because your period messed with your emotions. And that’s why you weren’t sure why you were so surprised when he responded to your offer with a kiss.

This was Sonny. He would never think lowly of you because of something you couldn’t control.

“That’s crazy talk, doll.” He mumbled into the kiss, smiling as he continued to love on your lips. “I’d never leave you alone like this.”

You pulled away a bit to properly look at his face, “Really?”

This was the man your heart belonged to. You don’t know how you didn’t explode when he gave you the most charming smile that ever graced his lips.

“Really.”

Everything you were worried about solved itself into place, like sentient puzzle pieces figuring themselves out with confidence.

“You’re too good for me.”

Unabashedly, you continued to make out with your boyfriend on your couch, a newfound appreciation driving you mad with love.

“I’m only for you, babe. Don’t need anyone or anything else but you.”

———

Now that the two of you were freshened up and settled down with mugs of hot cocoa in your hands, you and Sonny were much more at ease.

There was nothing better to Sonny than to be cuddled up with his girlfriend with her head laying on his chest. You practically clung to the arm draped over your shoulder, making a nest out of his bicep for your face — which reminded him of a koala bear, but he kept that thought to himself. He was so comfortable, so happy that this was his life. His nose pressed against your hair, the scent of your shampoo reminding him of a holiday well-spent together in Mexico. Deja Vu hit him the minute he kissed your head, laughing through his nose when he remembered the events that happened just a few hours prior.

“Hey,” he nudged you with the arm you were glued to. You pulled your focus from the movie you were watching — a comedy, nothing that would make the ‘bloody demon hormones possess me’ as you put it — and raised your eyebrows curiously in response. “I’m just wonderin’…”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you cry when I gave you the flowers?”

You groaned, still somewhat embarrassed at the flurry of emotions you attacked the innocent man with. But you humoured the question anyway, “I opened the door and you were standing there, so handsome and so sickeningly charming, holding up flowers that you brought for me. You should be worried if I didn’t cry.”

“Wow,” he whistled. “I’m really that handsome, huh?”

You playfully hit him in the chest with your fist as you resumed your initial position, “Shut up.” A smirk managed to rip it’s way through your lips. “But mostly, I was crying because I was so sad that the flowers were going to die. I don’t know, just weird how my brain works on my period.”

It was a nonchalant mention, nothing big to you, but it stuck to his mind. Flowers dying made you upset. How precious was that? He catalogued the thought, filing it away for the future. The inkling of humour tempted him, though.

“So, not so much on the handsome part?”

You snorted, “Eh, I’ll give it a 60/40.”

“It should be in the news or something. ‘Guy So Handsome, Makes A Grown Woman Cry’” he gestured in the air as if there was a banner.

“How about, ‘Girl So Hormonal, Makes A Grown Man Cry With Her’?”

“Psh, I didn’t cry.”

“You so were.”

“Was not.”

You laughed, thinking he’d given it up when the sound of the movie began to fade into your hearing again.

“You should come over the precinct, tell the guys how I can make the ladies cry just by showing up at their door.”

He wore that goofy, toothy grin you were so accustomed to whenever he was joking around.

You rolled your eyes. Then decided to mess with him. “Excuse me? Ladies? Plural?”

The grin immediately wiped off of his face. “No- I meant lady, as in singular.”

“Mhmm.”

“I mean— no, that’s not what—“

“Sure, Son.” The monotonous voice you used made him sweat.

“You know you’re the only gal for me! I was just joking…hey, baby, come on, look at me…”

———

Months passed by and relationship milestones came and went. You finally met his family on month eight, and him yours. Month ten, you got a promotion at work and thankfully — not by your doing — Todd left the company. Sonny and the rest of the SVU team made a breakthrough on a case, you met his coworkers you heard so much about for the first time when he brought you along for their celebratory dinner. He was teased relentlessly for ‘keeping such a wonderful woman from us all this time’. You enjoyed the camaraderie that they shared with each other, and felt like you won a prize when they extended it to you.

Time passed by you so fast that you barely noticed it was almost a full year since you and Sonny made it official.

The day of your anniversary, he made reservations for the two of you at a fancy restaurant — Italian, of course. You reminisced the journey of your relationship together over some fine dining and a delightful bottle of wine. The ambiance, mixed with the light-headed feeling from one too many glasses of wine, only made the love you had for Sonny so much more emphasised. It was a dream, to be loved by such an amazing man, to have found your soulmate. If you weren’t at such busy points of your career, you’d literally have his babies right then and there. A couple of mini Sonny’s would do the world good, you pondered. Unbeknownst to you, the subject of your thoughts was thinking the exact same thing, only he was dreaming up a babble of mini You’s instead.

Sonny and you walked home together — he had basically moved into your apartment by now, he was finding it harder and harder to be separated from you at night. Having you next to him made him sleep better, and just generally being around you made him feel better — the two of you never made his move-in an official thing, but there was no need to. It was almost like you shared a telepathic connection. Although, Sonny being Sonny, will make the moving in an official thing whether you needed to or not. Maybe into an actual house, with a backyard and a huge kitchen and a family to raise in to make it a home. One day. Maybe even tomorrow. He’d do anything, anytime with you.

“Got you something, by the way.” He grinned, keys jangling on the doorknob as he swung it open for you.

“Sonny, you didn’t have to.” You blushed. One year together and he still had that effect on you.

“Well, I wanted to.”

While you were taking off your shoes, he used it as a distraction to take it out of the hiding spot he so carefully planned — his height being an advantage to said plan — and waddled over in his socks to where you were sitting on the couch, handing it to you once he was sat as well.

It was a daintily patterned gift bag, not too big and not too small either, with a card attached to it on the front. You carefully removed it to read his words in neat handwriting.

Happy 1 year anniversary, doll. I love you so much. You make me the luckiest man alive. My love for you will never die.

You wanted to cry, so touched by his short but undeniably sweet words. He saw how your bottom lip jutted out, the way it usually did when emotions got the best of you, and smiled to himself with a bit of pride in getting his words right.

Slowly, you pried the top of the bag open, only discovering a plastic dome. “Careful.” Your boyfriend noted.

You wondered what it was, going over all the possibilities in your head as you took it out of the bag; lava lamp, necklace, tiny bottle, lantern…only to gasp when you saw what it really was inside.

A small sphere-shaped cactus with a crown of pink flowers, placed inside a white ceramic pot with the words, ‘My love for you will never die’ engraved in cursive writing around it.

Ahhhh, here come the waterworks.

“Sonny,” your eyebrows scrunched up, lips fully pouting now. “This is the sweetest fucking gift ever.”

Your use of words didn’t go unnoticed by the smiling man, earning you a chuckle out of him. “I remember the time you cried when I brought you flowers, and you told me it was because you were sad ‘bout them dying…it’s cheesy, I know. Corny, a bit. But I thought you’d like it.”

The rising inflection of his voice gave away his nerves, but you were quick to make your appreciation known. “I do, I do! It’s just the most beautiful and thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me. Thank you, baby. I’m- Aw…“

You choked up and he took that as his cue to pull you into his arms, careful to set the prickly plant down so you wouldn’t accidentally get hurt.

“It’s true though, my love will never die. You’re stuck with me for as long as you want me.”

“You know I’m shit at keeping plants alive, Son!” You couldn’t help the wavering in your voice, “Oh, but this is just so, so sweet. You’re just too cute for your own good.”

“Well, I was cute enough for you to accept the babbling guy who asked you out a year ago.” The giggling that followed made his blue eyes seem brighter.

“Yeah, I couldn’t say no to that face.”

You took the comfortable silence that ensued as a segue to your own offering to him, “Speaking of this cactus being put at the risk of dying, I’m gonna have to appoint someone to remind me it needs water every now and then.”

“I’m assuming that would be me?”

“Yup.” You shifted around to look through your purse. “So, I was thinking…”

Sonny narrowed his eyes at you, “Thinking…?”

You held out your palm and reached out for his, dropping a familiar weight into his hands. As soon as you pulled your hands away, the object revealed itself to be a single silver key with a brown leather strap keychain attached to the ring, ‘Det. Carisi’ engraved on one side and ‘Sonny’ on the other.

He looked up at you, meeting eager eyes that matched his own. You were practically bouncing with giddiness, excited to reach yet another milestone.

“Move in with me? Officially?”

God, you were so perfect.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

[lucozadehulahoop]

A Question of Time (Astarion x afab!Tav) part 4/?

Chapter summary: Astarion comes to terms with the peculiar effects of Tav's blood running through his veins, and leaving her is becoming more difficult than he'd originally anticipated.

Also: Astarion unwillingly finds himself reading a smut fic.

Tags and T.W.:pre-bg3!Astarion, slave!Astarion, demi-goddess!tav, kinda NSFW (minors stay away kindly, thank you darlings).

words: 2.5k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

Tav felt the bite before she could even see it coming.

In her complete state of confusion, he twisted her hands even tighter in Astarion's shirt, frightened yet seeking comfort from the strong hold he had on her at the same time.

They were completely locked in on each other, almost as if letting a single breath of air between them would have been a fatal mistake.

Tav whimpered softly as her mind finally caught up with the sharp pain in her neck, the languid pull of her blood being drained from her flesh. She would have been lying if she said she hadn't already suspected something about Astarion's nature, but it had never quite mattered to her in the grand scheme of things.

"A-Astarion..." She pleaded with him, uncertain on whether he'd be able to stop himself. Tav wasn't human, she could withstand most perils situations that others couldn't, but neither of them could know the consequences of a vampire drinking her blood of all people.

Astarion was completely lost in his bliss. Not only had he just broken one of his Master's cardinal commandments by drinking the blood of a thinking creature, but he'd just switched from two centuries of eating rats and dogs to sipping on the very ambrosia of the gods.

He felt strong. No, more than that, he felt invincible, like he could walk right up to Cazador and snap him in half if he wanted to.

The next thing he felt was warmth begin to spread through his body in the first time since forever. He let out a groan of relief, sinking his teeth even deeper into Tav's neck, making her cry out. "Astarion, please!" And that, was when he finally remembered himself and what he was doing, his eyes flying open in alarm.

He was very careful to hold her still as to not hurt her while he retracted his fangs in the most gentle manner he could muster. "Oh what have I done-- what have I done?" Astarion cursed himself as he looked at Tav' vacant eyes and the giant gaping wound he'd just given her. In a fit of panic, he first attempted to stop the bleeding by putting pressure on her neck with his hand, then opted to do the same with the nearest, cleanest piece of fabric he could find.

He brought her over to the bed so she could lay down, never once stopping the pressure he was keeping over he wound. "Tav? Tav, darling, keep those pretty eyes on me now--" Astarion tried his best to keep her from drifting further away from him, but his attempts were seeming more and more fruitless by the second. "No, no don't you do this to me, okay? I made a mistake --- a truly wretched mistake. I never meant-I never wanted to hurt you please-"

Astarion suddenly heard the words he was speaking out loud in his own head. Was he worried? For someone else other than him? Was he afraid to... lose Tav? He blinked a single tear and realised his face wasn't just wet with Tav's blood. He was... crying.

"Tav, just... just say something... please darling, I'd give anything to... hear that bratty little voice of yours right now..." Astarion pleaded with her silently, undecided if he was more afraid about her dying in his arms or how much it hurt to care about another person again after so long. And why did he care so much about her? The two of them weren't lovers, nor had they known each other long.

Maybe it was the fact Astarion was now aware of what she'd sacrificed for him. That despite appearances, she was just as much of a prisoner inside the Crimson Palace as he was.

It could have been because he saw an affinity in their rather different tragidies. Or maybe... Tav had been the only person he'd met in his undead life that had tried her best to help him without seemingly wanting anything back from him. It could have been that Astarion may have possibly been harbouring the small hope of having found a friend, someone who didn't treat him like a monster or use him for his body. Someone he was beginning to like, that drew him in with her insufferable self righteousness and her pouty lips---

"Shh, quiet..." Her sweet voice came to him finally. "Can't you hear it? Your heart... it's beating." She murmured weakly before falling asleep with her head on his chest.

Astarion feared the worst. Tav was clearly delirious, thinking that she could hear the heart beat of a vampire --- then he felt it too. Incredulously, Astarion put a hand over his chest and listened. His heart... was truly beating.

He laughed in shock, welcoming the tears of joy that ran down his face as he tried his best not to hurt Tav while his hand was still keeping pressure on the wound.

For five more minutes Astarion lay in bed and revelled in the fact he had a beating heart once more. Then, slowly, the steady rhythm began to de down until it finally came to a familiar halt. Tav's blood had briefly, but undoubtedly made him human.

With a cool head once again, Astarion managed to rationalise the intense feelings he'd felt while he'd been worried sick over Tav. He wouldn't have been able to fret over her so much in his normal state, but that didn’t mean they hadn't been real. For a brief moment he'd been yanked out of the hardened selfish shell that came with being a vampire and he'd remembered what it felt like to care for someone else.

So... he hadn't always been such a bad person, he thought as he gazed down at Tav, who was still sleeping on his chest. Thankfully, he wound had been healing fast, at almost unnatural speed.

That still didn't make things right.

He'd taken something from her forcefully, used her for his own needs. And he would have been a dirty liar if he said he hadn't liked it too. A single taste of her blood and he'd been brought to ecstasy.

Now back in the seat of power, his selfish mind told him Tav was too valuable to let go. She made him strong, gave him unimaginable pleasure. What if... he could walk in daylight if he just drank enough of her blood? Even if only for a few hours...

Things would be even more complicated if Astarion were willing to openly acknowledge how deeply he desired Tav. The mere thought of it scratched at a possessive itch at the back of his brain he hadn't even been aware he had. She may have been powerful, but she was too sweet, too trusting of the world despite the environment she'd experienced. Shouldn't it have been... Astarion's responsibility to keep her from harm? From the terrible monsters out there who wouldn't have thought twice about exploiting her? After all, he owed her, considering everything she had done for him...

...☆...

When Tav woke up, she found tea and biscuits on the bedside table. She tentatively touched the cup with her fingers and found it to be cold, almost as if the beverage had been prepared hours ago.

She looked around to find she was back in her room, snugly tucked into her bed. Reaching for her neck, she let out a slight hiss at how tender her flesh still felt.

"Thought you might like to know... prince charming himself is here... and I doubt he's looking for me..." Astarion sneered as he looked out the window, his sharp eyes zeroing in on the valiant young knight who'd come to court Tav. It should have been none of his business. The sun had nearly almost set and it was about time he himself go going before he wasted another night.

Tav barely managed to sit up on the bed. It didn't usually take her so long to recover whenever she got hurt. Yet, she was feeling rather... sluggish and warn out. "Oh... is it one of those people asking for handkerchiefs again?" Tav huffed, closing her eyes and rubbing her midriff a little. "Just throw one down for him, will you Astarion? I don't understand... is there a shortage of cloth in the city? There's always a new one coming around... singing a song or asking very nicely..."

Astarion gave Tav a look of pure confusion. Did she really think that knights and nobles trying to serenate her at dusk were simply people who needed handkerchiefs? It clicked in his head then, that when a lady would give a token of her favour, the token usually resembled something akin to an embroidered cloth or handkerchief.

When the realisation hit, he burst out laughing in Tav's face.

"What?" Tav searched his face for a reason to his hilarity, now she was the one to be confused. "The first time it happened... this gentleman showed up, he was a terrible singer, kept me up all night with his... whining... so I started throwing things at him. Out of the pile, he picked at a handkerchief, seemed pretty happy, and left. Never saw him again. The others have been more or less the same."

It wasn't hard to believe they never came back. Trespassing on Cazador's grounds at night was dangerous business. Astarion grinned to himself in a rather evil thought. Tav had been unknowingly drawing in a fair amount of unsuspecting prey, and for some reason, it gave him great satisfaction to know all of her suitors up to that point had come to a rather sticky end.

"Darling, let me explain something to you—" Astarion began to say as he walked towards her, but he was interrupted by the lousy notes of a poorly strummed lute. The terrible sound of it made him visibly cringe.

"My lady — oh, fair lady —" The voice outside began to sing out of tune.

"Oh no..." Tav whined. "Just, throw something down the window of the tower for him, will you? I really am not in the right state to deal with this right now..."

"Sure, how about that priceless pianoforte in your music room?" Astarion snickered. "I bet that will keep him quiet. For good."

"No! I do not want you to flatten the poor man with my piano!... just... let's just try to ignore it..." Tav searched through a pile of books next to her bed, deciding to attempt reading as a distraction.

"Oh lady, lady of the tower-

Why, oh why would you leave me so... sour?"

"Oh sweet hells, is this guy actually serious?" Astarion cursed and shook his head, marching over to open the window and peek his head out. The knight was unsurprisingly taken back by seeing him instead of Tav.

"I say, are you incapable of taking a hint?" Astarion shouted down at him. The man was gobsmacked, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. "The lady of the tower is rather indisposed at this moment..." He said languidly, purposely making the man draw the wrong conclusions. "In fact, she is completely bedridden... if you catch my meaning... I do apologize as it is completely my fault..."

Okay, so maybe he was laying it on a bit too thick. But it wasn't as if Astarion was jealous or anything. He just enjoyed messing with people. It was one of life's little pleasures.

"Now get lost, the last thing you want is to get caught out there after dark..." Astarion gave him one last warning before closing the windows shut.

"You didn't have to be so mean to him, you know?" Tav said as Astarion turned back to face her.

He took in the state he'd left her in and hated the fact he was sprouting a sense of empathy at an incredibly inconvenient time for him. Tav had done so much for him, and he'd yet to hear her screaming at him for taking a chunk out of her without permission.

Astarion didn't want to say goodbye. He decided then and there he was going to leave as soon as Tav fell back to sleep, which in her condition was probably going to be soon. All he needed to do was speed the process along.

He picked up the first book he could find on her drawing desk and sat down in a chair next to her bed.

Astarion looked at the title on the cover and tried his best not to roll his eyes. Tristan and Iseult. Of course, he had to go and pick a love story.

"You really don't have to read to me just because you feel bad-" Tav began to say, but Astarion cut her off.

"Excuse me, I'll have you know I am a very prolific reader, and you, my dear, seem to have a lack of understanding when it comes to courtship so this will be... an informative way to pass the time." He said, and swallowed thickly, already dreading the experience.

"How so?" Tav asked, blinking up at him curiously.

"Because-" Astarion huffed, already feeling uncomfortable in his chair. "This-" he said, wagging the book up in the air. "Is one of greatest love stories of all time and maybe you'll be... more aware of what's going on the next time some fool comes singing underneath your window..."

Tav raised a quizzical eyebrow at him, but asked no further questions. Astarion cleared his throat and began the reading. He was surprised to find the story was a lot less boring than he'd remembered, clearly catching on to the fact it was an unofficial re-telling of some sorts, due to new characters and extra encounters he'd never known from the original version.

Unfortunately, Tav was very interested too, hanging off his every word. She didn't seem like she was about to fall asleep any time soon. Astarion did his best to counteract this by letting his voice drone on in a deep soothing tone, yet his eyes almost jumped out of his skull when the tender love story took a very unexpected turn.

"Tristan watched as his fair love drank down the potion so hastily, the liquid spilled down her perfect neck and between the curves of her---" Astarion coughed nervously and turned the page, hoping Tav wouldn't notice as he skipped to the following passage. "Both drunk on the intense effects of the love potion, with trembling hands they reached for----- t-their, um, thriving bodies---"

"Hey! You skipped a section!" Tav protested.

"No, I didn't!" Astarion huffed back, pressing a hand to his forehead. How in the hells had he ended up recanting some bard's published smut-fic, he would never know.

"Let me see that..." Tav snatched the book from his hands and it was all Astarion could do as he jumped on her bed like a cat to get it back.

---

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[noctvrnal9999]

Ascended Astarion, Blood Brides & vampirism

After seeing this post by @missbaphomet (who asked to be tagged, so here you go) I decided to do a semi-deep dive into what it's all about.

Now I'll preface this that I'm more knowledgeable in Vampire the Masquerade tabletop than DnD but if there's vampires I'll be there.

For the purposes of this post I have looked into various guides, e5, Van Richten's guide to Ravenloft, briefly skimmed Curse of Strahd and consulted not one, not two, but three Dungeon Masters. So take my post as you will.

More under cut, this will be long.

It is well known that Astarion is aware of Strahd even before he's Ascended. We get his line that is basically "Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit." So, while it's only a subtle nod to von Zarovich, we still have it in game as canon line.

Now, I find this a very curious line in and on itself. Not only Astarion knows Strahd, he says the line with anger, which is clear indication that he sees Strahd as someone to look up to in one way or another. If you don't know Strahd I encourage you to google and at least read his wiki, he's a very fascinating man and very important in vampirism as a whole in DnD. He's THE vampire, THE villain. But moving on...

So Astarion definitely sees Strahd as someone who would not let himself be disrespected, it's obvious that Astarion if not aspires to be like Strahd, then definitely sees himself as capable (or capable in the future) to be as "revered" as von Zarovich is. That's a tidbit I want you all to remember.

We don't know just how much Cazador spoke to his spawn about vampire politics but they weren't just beasts locked in cages, they were going out, although to get victims for Cazador, they were still out and about. They talked to people, to each other and most likely ran into other vampires or spawn along the way in the centuries that they have been doing Cazador's bidding. This is just simple logic.

So how much Astarion and other spawn could know about Strahd, for example? There's very good reason to think that Strahd's escapades were known in Cazador's palace, as well as among other vampires. We know that Astarion likes to educate himself with whatever might benefit him ("Meanwhile, I think I'll spend some time studying the art of infernal negotiations." Act 2). It's also proven when he desperately wants to have Necromancy of Thay in hopes of finding a way to free himself from Cazador. Astarion seeks knowledge. Again, it's just pure logic to conduct that he knows more than just Strahd's name and that he's a vampire. Otherwise, why would he have the line comparing himself to him in a way that reflects that in some way Astarion reveres Strahd at least to a degree.

We established that Astarion very very likely knows a lot about Strahd, as well as other spawn alongside him. Which leads to this:

Astarion very likely knows about different ways to turn mortals into vampires.

While his own "becoming" has been a simple Spawn creation (with draining blood, burying and needing to dig oneself out), he must know about creation of Blood Brides (and Grooms, but for the sake of less words I'll use she/her and Bride but rituals I'm about to discuss can be done on any sex). Why? Because he must know about Strahd taking brides. If not, his own curiosity about his condition would have led him to learn about different rituals anyway. So based on Astarion's nature and the fact that he seems not only to be aware of Strahd but know the man to a degree of respect, I have no reason to doubt that Astarion knows about Blood Brides.

Keeping this in mind, let's move onto the night of Tav's "becoming". The scene is very clear: whatever path you choose, gentle or not, Astarion bites Tav twice in the cinematic. To become a Blood Bride one needs to be bitten trice, then given blood from the vampire. It's a whole ritual of draining her to delirium, then giving her blood. Now the vampire in question needs to fight his new bride off otherwise she will succumb to madness permanently. Astarion openly mentions he gave Tav "one drop" and seems he bypassed the need to fight her off him by most likely holding her down until his new Bride fell into a coma that leads to death. Generally the feeding is allowed from the neck but Astarion mentioning "one drop" indicates he's trying to be smarter than other vampires. Now this is interesting because to be a spawn one doesn't need their creator's blood. And they do get buried as well, just like Astarion was, while Tav never gets buried. I'm not going to detail how Larian strays from lore such as that vampires still need the dirt they died upon to rest, but we're going here by facts that should align with DnD.

Since we established that Tav is not just a normal Spawn, she was not created in a way other Spawn were, not even Astarion himself. So what IS she? Answer is right here, after all. Not only Astarion chooses her as his partner, he also ensures that she remains as such forever. Remember: Astarion does actually believe he is bestowing a gift when he turns Tav into his Bride - the gift of freedom from aging and death and to be by his side forever. "You are beautiful and you will be beautiful forever" (paraphrasing here).

I see DnD loremasters already shaking their pitchforks at me: can Astarion even do it? On a night of his own transformation? Creating a Blood Bride is something that vampires with a label of Ancient and up can perform, and even then not always successfully. Creating Spawn is much easier than creating a Bride (or several, if we're looking at Strahd). Well, what is an ancient vampire varies from version to version, but ultimately it does not matter. Why? Because Larian homebrewed an entirely new breed of vampire: the Vampire Ascendant.

Larian did not bother to explain in full what does that mean and what actual changes Astarion is going to see in the future once he becomes more accustomed to his powers. But it's completely reasonable to believe he's capable of creating Blood Brides. Simple because a - he attempts it already and succeeds (Tav is turned into one). That's it. Astarion follows the Bride Ceremony and indeed ends up creating a Bride. Not only he performs the ritual in exact way it's described in lore (we see part of it but his words the morning after confirm the rest), he also is capable of doing so because Larian made it canon by letting Tav become a Bride, successfully. She gains the Bite, confirming her transformation and there's not a single conversation piece indicating that Astarion CAN compel Tav in any way. He simply says "Why would I need to?" without establishing that the rules are different for Tav. He also hammers on that point several times: "Spawn is an ugly word, I really do prefer consort." and confirms that Tav will drink his blood without any implication that it's going to be just one time thing. Astarion obviously believes in drinking each others blood as a form of bonding and love.

Tav is not merely his Spawn, she's his Blood Bride. Every fact in game and DnD lore confirms it. And not even once Astarion actually tries to compel Tav (or is able to). Not even when confronting Elder Brain, he has a line encouraging Tav to control the brain, trying to convince her to take the power, instead of compelling her like Cazador used to compel him. There's not a single instance were Astarion controls Tav so the conclusion is simple - he can't. Tav can even argue with him at the epilogue party if she wishes so. That's not behavior of someone controlled, abused and manipulated. She has her free will to the point that she can talk back to him without being punished (something unseen with Cazador, for example). If she can leave him, well, that's another topic altogether, but I'll just say this - I think she can leave him, but he won't let her, not because he can command her to stay but because he's possessive of Tav.

Anyway, here it is, my semi-deep dive into the topic. Keep in mind I'm not a Dungeon Master.

Useful resources:

http://thecampaign20xx.blogspot.com/2016/02/dungeons-dragons-guide-to-vampires.html

https://www.worldanvil.com/w/barovia-billorileycyrus/a/bride-ceremony-article

https://www.dndbeyond.com/posts/1467-playing-as-a-vampire-in-d-d

http://mojobob.com/roleplay/monstrousmanual/v/vampire0.html

https://www.reddit.com/r/CurseofStrahd/comments/126n5yd/creating_vampire_brides_and_grooms/

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

thinking again about dream’s utter reluctance to kill rose, and what that says about him

like, sure, he told himself he was keeping her alive so she’d find the missing dreams, and that was definitely useful to him, but even after she did so, he hesitates. there was absolutely no benefit to keeping her alive after that point, and he has been explicitly going against the rules this entire time in letting her power grow at all - dream, the most lawful character in this story (aside from perhaps destiny), he doesn’t even try to kill her until he gets her explicit permission.

and dream is very aware of the potential consequences here. for show fans who haven’t read the comics, when dream said he failed in his duty and an entire universe was lost? that’s actually how he got trapped by burgess in the first place - he couldn’t kill the vortex, he cared too much about her, so he let the dream spread. even once his siblings forced his hand, he didn’t finish the job, he ran away. and it kept getting bigger and bigger, until it consumed literally everything, and dream had to essentially remake the universe by taking a dream where he never made that mistake and turning it real. but the energy expended to do that drained him of so much power that it left him vulnerable to magic like burgess’ - magic that could never normally come close to touching an endless, it’s why he got dream and not death.

dream is still recovering from the last time he made this kind of mistake. but none of that knowledge is enough to override who he is as a person

i think a lot, about dream's protests here.

because for all that killing a dream vortex is explicitly a part of his duty, it also runs entirely counter to who he is

he's literally made up of every dream anyone has ever had, he exists because people dream, because they hope. like he says in his speech to john in episode 5, people need dreams to keep living. and it goes the other way round, too. because there's no way to kill a dream, no matter how shitty a situation you put a person in, they can always hope that things will change, that they will get better. but if you kill a person, that's the only way to ensure they can never dream again, the only way to permanently stop a dream. of course he can't bring himself to do so willingly, of course he's going to object to it - in order for him to even exist, he has to believe that there's always another way

and he's spent so long being punished for that mercy. which is why i love the doll's house plot, because this time, his hesitation means unity has time to figure out what's going on, and keep him from falling into desire's trap

for once, the fact that he couldn't kill someone saves his life

[0alanasworld0]

Newbie (Pedri x reader)

Vague idea of request: “the reader joins FC barcelona and the rest of the team eventually warms up to her except Pedri. He’s a complete asshole to her: picking her apart during training, blanking her during matches etc etc etc. She obviously doesn’t know what's going on but just decides to deal with it. Maybe things go too far at one point and it just brings a lot of feelings bubbling to the surface” 

Warnings: unwanted touching, mild violence, minor injuries

You’ve managed the impossible to say the least. You’ve spent your whole life playing football but you imagined a very different route for yourself before this moment. You thought that you would spend a gap year making some money for a rainy day and join your university’s football team while you got your degree, funny how things turn out huh? Because somehow, as you were beginning your first year of uni, well-rested from that gap year, things take a turn. Being called up by the talent representatives of FC Barcelona was nowhere near what you were expecting from the year. You think it's bogus until you see that the official accounts are now following you on your social media. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime and you just can’t find it in yourself to say no. Joining the likes of Robert Lewandowski and Ousmane Dembele is too good of a chance to pass up. So you accept. Your parents were sceptical to say the least: its a physically and mentally draining career and there are a lot of untrustworthy people within the ever-changing landscape of the sport. However, they understood that the vast majority of people may not even have received a call about these things, especially after a year out of the sport and as a woman. 

When the media heard rumours of the news, football pundits laughed at the ludicrous idea. Some called out the fact that “wokeism” is destroying football, whatever that means. Most just write it off as a silly rumour. However when FC Barcelona themselves made the announcement, war broke out online. Supporters were embarrassed and rivals were laughing. People rushed to question your ability but some faceless saviours on twitter managed to get their hands on some of your highlights. Obviously they went viral, as had anything with your name on it for the past week. It hurt that people were being so vile to you but you also realised that almost every player receives a barrage of attacks for any mistake they make on the field. However you wished they’d give you a chance. You made all of your social media private in order to prevent your phone from blowing up with all kinds of threats and insults. But those highlights, people could not deny from those videos that you had something special. As did the other girls in the team. A couple of you were called up actually but none of you knew that at the time and they’d all declined, anticipating the reaction and preferring different things in their lives. Unfortunately, that left you as the last woman standing. 

Those videos show you to be formidable in defence. You have a quick reaction time as well as excellent spatial awareness that allows you to deliver tackles that almost always end up in one of your teammates being able to repossess the ball (and fairly, much to your opponents dismay). You’ve got killer legs that allow you to kick the ball as far as you need, even setting a Gothia cup record with 60 metres. You’re a good sport even in victory; you make it your priority to congratulate the opposition for how they played and comfort your teammates in defeat. Some of your funniest moments include your (lack of) celebration upon scoring a goal. Your teammates are going wild around you as you smile and go back into position, waiting to continue the game. It pains a lot of people to say but you’re good. And you’re just what Barcelona needs. Any team would be lucky to have you but it's Barcelona that are brave enough to make such a controversial move. Cheap, young talent that will strengthen the defence and prevent another underwhelming score against a third league time from marring their status as a club.

You do not receive the warmest welcome from the team upon your arrival. The boys are awkward and Xavi is apologetic for their unfavourable reaction. He at least hoped you would go out for food with them since you arrived around 10 minutes before lunch. He frowns when he sees you on your own in the cafeteria but is relieved to see the girls sit with you instead. He’ll see this transfer through but hopes you would be willing to join the women’s team if the men don't try to behave… well like men. 

The older members at least made an effort to include you during your first training sessions. You even got some compliments on your accuracy from the man himself: Robert Lewandowski. It's a shame that the moment was dampened by the eyes you could feel drilling into your skull. Gavi couldn’t care less, he had to focus on himself but the others were less than impressed. But, as you spent more time around each other, Xavi now grouping you guys himself (rather than trusting the boys to be mature enough to choose), they one-by-one become used to your existence. You dare not jinx it but you think that they actually like you on the team. You bring a much needed level of strength to the defence and reliable sport for the midfield. You’re kind in your critiques, taking as long they need for you to explain a certain trick or tactic. Their egos aren’t too bruised since you ask them a fair amount of questions as well, always willing to hear feedback for your work. 

It’s all going swimmingly. All except one person. You and Pedri have had to partner up a few times and all of your attempts at conversation were met with eyerolls, snarky comments under his breath and a call for you to focus on the task at hand. Whenever you ask him for help, he sighs heavily in annoyance as he “explains” things to you as quickly as possible. Rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath when you ask for clarification. In any normal situation you would try your very best to get down to the bottom of it but your on-field chemistry during practice matches is actually rather promising. You dare not risk jeopardising that with a confrontation. so, you swallow your sadness and deal with his hissy fits. 

Your first ever match with the team was actually a largely wonderful experience. With the highlights making their rounds as well as some training videos, people have largely warmed up to you, the fans have to. When you make your way to a position, you look at the crowd to see a group of teen girls and give them a wave. It warms your heart when they all wave back excitedly, big smiles on their faces as they make hearts with their hands and chant your name. It sends goosebumps down your arms and a chill down your spine. Finally, you gain some solid rapport with your team as the match goes perfectly and you prove that your highlights aren’t simply lucky moments. You’re good and they need you. You manage to make a tense run up and score from outside of the box despite the swarm of opposition making their way towards you. You do as per the faint yell by Lewandowski to just try. You look around at the crowd to see shocked faces all celebrating the moment. Maybe you weren’t such a bad transfer after all. You smile widely as your teammates pat you on the back, Gavi lifting you up and spinning you around before you all return to your starting positions. And not long after, you score another except this time, you managed an extremely tight angle from a corner kick. No one is sure how you did it but they’re all celebrating, nonetheless. You won’t tell them that it was a miscalculated curl that you intended for Dembele to finish. It's a big sigh of relief when the final whistle blows. It's over: 3-0. You’ve managed to get your name on the scoresheet in your debut match. The team pulls you into the centre of the celebration and throws you in the air and you hear the vague sound of your name being chanted by a jubilant, roaring crowd. As you reenter the bunkers, you’re given your MOTM award and smile brightly as you take a photo with it. You even manage to get a picture with the opposition’s goalkeeper who commends your ability at such a young age. It's a huge compliment that has your face flushing bright red as you’ve been a massive fan of his for such a long time. 

Once you leave your locker room, you see Pedri waiting outside and he doesn’t look overjoyed, to say the least.

“Yeah, less of the hot-shot risk-taking next time. This isn’t about you, alright? we’re all here for a reason. It’s not that hard to just stay in position. that dumbassery could have cost us a goal.” he scoffs, walking away before you can even get a word in. Well the magical moment is over now. You don't want to let it get to you but it dampens your mood enough to want to take an early night. You’re caught by Gavi, whom you’ve actually grown quite close to.

“Hey! Where are you going, we have to celebrate this! I’m not even sure if Lewy could have managed a goal like that!” He’s jumping up and down which does bring a smile back to your face. Still, as he’s pulling you to the exit where the taxis wait, you decide to tell him.

“Pablito, I just don't feel great. I should probably take an early night so I’m ready for tomorrow.” He raises an eyebrow incredulously. It was a resounding victory, that means you guys get a 2 day rest break. Your eyes widen as you realise the hole in your story.

“Yeah no, we’re partying tonight. Meet us in the lobby at 6. You try to interject but he gives you those puppy dog eyes that you can’t say no to.

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeaaaaase? I know we got off on the wrong foot but we all really do appreciate what you bring to the team. We all feel really bad just please come along? It's your first ever match win and you’re kind of the reason it happened.” You relent, realising that Pedri’s mood swings shouldn't get in the way of your big moment with the team. 

You crack a smile and he raises his fist in triumph with a little cheer. As he walks away, he turns back around, pointing to you with a ‘stern’ look on his face.

“Don't be late!”

You find that bodycon dress of your that you love. It’s a beautiful baby blue satin piece with spaghetti sleeves, reaching your lower thigh. You decide to throw your hair into a high ponytail and wear a pair of simple black heels, not having time to go any further because you’ve promised Gavi that you wouldn’t be late and you've procrastinated all but an hour of your time away.

You rush quickly to the elevator and wait to reach the ground floor. Clutching your purse tightly as you excitedly wait to see everyone. Some of the guys are already waiting with their plus ones and Gavi is among them. 

“Look at you going all fancy!” he jokes, poking at your arm. It's your first night out with the team so no one has actually seen you outside of your athletic wear and hoodies. 

“It would have looked a lot better if SOMEONE didn’t rush me.” you shake your head and roll your eyes playfully.

“Please, you had the whole afternoon to get ready and besides. You look gorgeous, I bet Pedri’s gonna be impressed!” he wiggles his eyebrows as you wack him on the shoulder, eyebrows furrowing as you wonder what could have possessed him to say that. Fashionably on time, you see Pedri exit the elevator and walk over to the group. He looks good with his arms exposed in the tank top and a pair of dark jeans. You think you see him look you up and down and Gavi seems to have seen the same as he nudges your shoulder. You wack him again as you wait for the rest of the group to show up. 

The team’s popularity comes in handy as you’re all allowed into the club after the bouncer gets a photo with the group. 

The music is blaring and the lights are flashing as everyone dances to the beat. Spending some time joking and dancing around with the girls, a few drinks in all of you. You’re so glad you came as you watch everyone stumble over each other clumsily. It's a right laugh and you’re glad you can spend some time bonding with the team. Pedri’s little diva strop is now left in the far back of your mind.

You return to the bar to get your head straight. It’s a fun time but you’re still not exactly used to this kind of environment and you need a moment to gather yourself before you return to the dancefloor. But as you’re slowly drinking your water, you're met with some unwanted attention.

A guy, very obviously wasted, stumbles up to you and grabs your waist. You flinch in shock, trying to remove his hand but he only comes closer, leaning onto you. Your hands are digging into his, trying to create a space but he doesn’t relent.

“C’mon baby, just one night. Let's have some fun, eh?” your nose wrinkles as you smell the alcohol in his breath.

“No thanks.” He’s not bothered to listen as he continues grabbing at you while you try to slap away his hands.

“Seriously, fuck off.” You respond angrily and this only spurs him to try and drag you away from the party all together. His grip is bruising your forearm and you yelp in pain and fear.

Thankfully someone stops things before they go further. 

“Did you not hear her the first time?” Pedri asks sternly, towering over the creepy man. Wait… Pedri? You’re confused but grateful nonetheless as he gently ushers you to stand behind him.

“Hey man, she was mine first. I just want a good ti-” You hear something crack as Pedri punches the guy straight in the nose. He falls over and Pedri follows suit, delivering blow after blow to his face as a small crowd forms. Laura comes over to comfort you as you shake and Lewy and Gavi hauls him off the guy. 

Pedri is asked to leave the club and the rest of the group ends up dispersing but you follow Pedri, tapping his shoulder gently. He turns around with an unusual soft look in his eyes.

“Look, thank you for doing that out there. I’m sorry it got us kicked out.” you look down, feeling bad for ruining the night. He reaches for your hand, rubbing circles into it.

“Hey, don’t think for a second that it was your fault. That creep had no right to be touching you like that, he deserved every punch and I dont regret being the one to give it to him. Not one bit.” He uses his other hand to hold your chin, gently bringing you to meet his gaze.

“The night is still young.”

“And your hand is still bruised. C’mon, you need some ice for that.” Lifting up his hand to examine, the various shades of purple and green were already forming. There also appear to be some cuts on his hand which makes your heart sink in concern. He smiles softly at the attention you’re giving him.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll do that once we get back to the hotel. C’mon let's get some ice cream.” He pinches your cheek lightly, your face twitches to a small smile as you nod softly at the idea. He keeps your hand in his as he takes you there. A blush makes its way onto your face as you realise.

Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the cute little parlour by the beach. It's still open despite the night falling onto the city. You both sit together at one of the booths, he opts to sit next to you rather than opposite, his thigh grazing yours. He takes your hand in his again.

“You’re okay, right?” he looks concerned again as he notices the light bruising on your wrist.

You nod enthusiastically, a smile making its way onto your face as you kiss his bruised knuckles in an attempt to reassure him. He blushes at that, you’re absolutely adorable. He isn’t quite sure how he managed to hold off for so long or why he did it in such a stupid way and he’s kicking himself for it.

You both order your flavours and you lay your head on his shoulder as you wait. The ice cream arrives soon after but you remain in place. 

“Seriously, Pedri. I can’t thank you enough for today. I know we’re not the best of friends but I really appreciate you sticking up for me.” he leans his head onto yours.

“No one deserves to be treated that way. I was just doing what any decent guy would do.” 

“I mean, I don't think I deserve to be nitpicked for making some dribbling errors in my first few months of training either but you know…” You let out a forced chuckle, lifting your head off his shoulder and opting to look down again, playing with your hands. You are genuinely baffled by the sudden change in dynamic. 

His heart sinks at that, realising that he definitely took his means of distancing too far to the point where he was hurting you.

“I’m sorry, it was a stupid way of keeping myself distanced from you. I know that definitely isn’t enough to make up for the past few months but I promise, I’ll keep trying. I like you, alright? Like, a lot: you're an amazing person and player. We’re all so lucky to have you here.” He’s the one looking down now but you’re just glad you can put all the tension behind you. So, you move to give him a tight hug. Now that shocks him, you had every right to blow up at him, yell, call him names for adding to an already stressful situation. He wraps his arms around you hesitantly and you look at each other.

He really does have beautiful eyes. Flecks of hazel scattered in pools of honey. He’s just as mesmerised, everything about you is divine and his heart aches whenever he thinks about how he treated you.

You both can’t help but lean in for a kiss. His lips are soft against yours and he can taste the watermelon lip balm you applied. Everything about you is addictive, His hand cups your face gently and your arms wrap around his neck. It was the type of kiss that just took your breath away and gave it right back. His forehead is still touching yours and his warm hand remains on your face.

“Let’s go home, it's getting late.”

“Your room or mine?"

didn't put an end thing on this one for some reason but yay! my first ever Pedri fic!!! tysm for the wonderful reception and for the request xxx

[waokevale]

What is everyone's power in your AU

Charlie can grow claws and cause people to hallucinate, she can see through most disguises and can read people's fears, she can corrupt creatures, but she has learned to control that ability and doesn't corrupt anyone at will. She can also fade into her shadow form, if she feels like spying on people.

Maxwell can "multiply" himself, he can also enter his shadow form but it's much more draining for him. He still has most of his magician tricks and uses shadow magic on regular basis, just without the codex umbra. Both he and Charlie can create tiny shadow monsters to spy on people and gather information about them long distance, if they prefer to personally stay put.

Wilson is of shadow origin here, though he is very much unaware of it. The only ones who are aware are Charlie and Max, while the rest of them are clueless. He can turn into a shadow beast, melt away into puddles of dark fuel, turn most things he touches into dark tethers and is ridiculously strong in this form. He can't control it however and assumes he's been cursed/corrupted.

Wolfgang has his super strength with a similar downside as in the game. He often shrinks when he's not doing anything super labor inducing, so many underestimate him as a bouncer and fighter. (Only to be proven very very wrong)

Willow obviously has her pyrokinesis, she has her lighter at all times, which she uses as a pocket fire storage. She almost burned the place a couple of times and got harshly reprimanded. Her corrupted form is a creature made of flames.

Wendy (And Abigail) can communicate with spirits and shadows. Both of them have the ability to "switch" between the body, though Wendy is the original host as Abigail did in fact die before. They can also see auras and people's true intentions.

Both Webber and Wurt have enhanced animalistic abilities. Webber can climb walls and make webs (from his hands🙌), has venom and better vision, While Wurt can jump really high, swim fast, breathe under water, and have a decent night vision. The downside is neither has currently access to their minions, though it is possible for them to acquire them at some point.

Woodie has a device that helps him switch between his forms and control them better, so he can transform at any time he uses it. Thanks to this he can also keep his mind together while being transformed. He can also partially transform to use one of his animal abilities to his aid. (For example transform his arm into a hoof to gain strength, or transform his arms into wings when he's in a situation that requires to use them) And yes it's the collar, no, the others won't change it for humorous reasons.

Wickerbottom has her super intelligence, mixed with bits of telepathy and telekinesis, she's pretty strong when give the chance but prefers to stay out from battles. She can write a spell on anything, and while she embraces her witchcraftian ancestry, she tends to stray from that path and instead use gadgets more often, since unlike the constant she doesn't have the free range to use the more destructive spells, in order to not cause much damage. (The others don't care though and cause damage anyway)

Wigfrid can control people with her songs, easily empowering her allies and weakening her enemies with them. She can also partially steal away someone's strength or life force.

Wes has mime powers, he can imagine any tool into existence for a certain amount of time, but if he gets distracted, it vanished/turns into something else. He also has helium breath because canon.

Based on @starving-mimi 's idea, Walter can make his tales come true, though he's very unaware of this ability and just assumes he was right about whatever monster's existence he imagined. (And Woby still has access to her monstrous form, though Walter finds out about this later)

WX-78 (or Woodrow) is still very much a human gone steampunk, however here they're aided with conductors and electric weapons for combat. They don't have most of their circuits, because their upgrades are installed by Winona, who basically prepares them for a specific situation, those upgrades are often uninstalled post battle, since too many of them can cause them great malfunctions and seizures. Just like the monster kids, they have a bracelet on their arm which makes up their disguise. They absolutely hate it.

Warly can affect the quality of his dishes with his emotions. While the taste always stays excellent, it's the aftereffects that vary. If he's feeling upbeat and enthusiastic, he can 'boost' anyone who consumes his dishes, including himself. Their agility, strength and power can greatly improve for a certain amount of time. However when he's upset, he prefers to not cook for the others, as he worries it will make them weaker, lethargic and unprepared for future battles. He also make his magical dishes from the game, which can change ones temperature, make them alight, immune to wetness, instantly improve their mental state etc.

Winona , due to a small exposure to corruption has the ability to immediately know how to construct something, just by giving it one look, she also understands how to mix components in order to produce an efficient tool, this gives her the advantage to a greater success rate in engineering than most people. She embraces this ability and is thankful she didn't get the short end of the stick, like some of the others. She likes to engage in battles but is aware of how her ability pails in comparison to some of the others. She's only slightly jealous. This doesn't stop her from inventing bizarre aids for her coworkers.

Wormwood also has a disguise on, though provided by a different entity. He willingly hires himself at the Dinner Theater which is a rarity in that place. At first he only shows bits of his abilities, like speeding the growth proces of potted plants or producing flowers at will. Later on though his actual abilities start shining through, how he can control any type of plant, the quality of life of all plants surrounding him, create sentient beings from flora and is actually incredibly skilled in combat though prefers to hide this fact. Here he also has a stronger connection to his lunar side and psychic roots, he can hypnotize beings and induce a sleeping spell on them. He can communicate telepathically with people and plants alike and is well equipped in his lunar knowledge. (And any time you eat a watermelon seed, just remember, he could absolutely kill you from the inside, but chooses not to)

Wortox is still the imp who jumped through the ancient gateway, and has by this point already taken the soul of Krampus. He has his ability to hop through any universe at any time he wishes, so long as he has enough souls for each trip. This time he manages to find himself in a human realm. He dons a human disguise using his soul energy, though the more energy he uses on said disguise, the more drained he feels. He can still teleport, and kill most being just with sheer touch. He often wears gloves though that does little to help with his curse. He gets in contact with Charlie and is lightly coerced into helping her acquire stuff for her mission, thus the title "The Supplier". In turn, she, along her co-owner and employees engineers a device for him, which proves him able to touch people and lessens the chance of him accidentally stealing someone's soul. He's very greatful for it.

Wanda has the prominition ability and can see into the future, though with limitations. She still posseses her ailment of aging too quickly and has most of her clocks on, including the ones that can reverse people's age and turn back time, though with direct supervision from Charlie and Max, she's not allowed to be as free with their usage, due to their sheer potency and power. She usually stays behind to her own preference and fear of death, though when she actually is forced to engage in combat, rest assured, she will woop ass.

[steviesbicrisis]

A lot of things start to make sense since Eddie Munson enters his life.

It goes from the simple things: Eddie patiently explaining the mechanics of D&D so that Dustin would stop using the references against him; Eddie teaching him a few music facts and history, “did you know that Tony Iommi once blew up Richard Branson’s prize carp? Fucking Metal if you ask me”; Eddie helping him fix the drain in his new apartment “with all of your hair you never had to unclog it? You’re such a princess”.

But it’s more than that. Eddie also helps him figure out things about himself.

Like, he can be friends with someone without having that much in common, he’s that type of person who would drop everything he’s doing if someone he cared about would ask it, and also that, apparently, he has a type.

«You clearly have a thing for nerds,» Eddie tells him one day, teasingly.

«What? I definitely don’t!» Steve is outraged that he would even suggest that «I tolerate nerds because for some reason I’m surrounded by them.»

«Oh please! You just told me about your embarrassing crush on Robin, a huge nerd, smart, was in band, and knows like- ten languages. Then there’s Wheeler, also smart, also one of the biggest nerds that Hawkins has ever seen. Don’t let me even touch on the fact that you’re surrounded by baby nerds all the time» Eddie blinds him with a victorious grin «this is why all your other dates go to shit, Harrington. Trust me, date a nerd for a change.»

Steve wants to bite back and prove him wrong but, after Eddie says it, he can’t help think back to his dating history and everything makes sense.

Once again, Eddie helps him figure things out about himself.

But the biggest revelation Eddie helps him out with, comes only after.

Steve finds himself thinking more about this “nerd thing”, and his mind can’t help but go to Eddie himself. He’s a huge nerd, and he has become a big part of his life.

He finds himself noticing small things about him, like what rings he wears on which finger, how he styles his hair depending on his mood, how he smiles when the kids are close to figuring out the plot twists of his campaign, and especially how he always manages to have some sort of physical contact with him, whether by putting an arm on his shoulder, leaning closer to listen to what he’s talking about or grabbing his wrist to get his attention.

He has never been more aware of Eddie’s presence than now, it makes him jumpy but also, he notices, he waits for it, he wants any type of physical contact with him, and even a quick brush on his arm is enough to make his stomach flutter.

And Steve is not stupid. He might be a little oblivious, he might’ve been taught the wrong things -how queer people are the menace of society and how there’s nothing worse than being called “fag” for a man- but he’s been Robin’s best friend for so long that he knows better now.

And he also knows how he feels when he has a crush on someone.

The only option for him is to talk to Robin about it, both of them are surprised at how well Steve is taking it.

Well, he does cry a little bit, he tells Robin that he’s scared, he even tells her that he doesn’t want it, this new part of him that people would not accept him for. She understands, and she’s there every step of Steve’s sexual crisis until he just accepts it.

As if going through a bisexual crisis wasn’t enough, Steve finds himself going through another rite of passage for queer people: falling for a straight person.

Steve and Robin are working their shift at Family Video when a very excited Eddie Munson comes in «Harrington, give me your best romantic crap movie!»

«Eddie Munson, renting a romantic movie? Did aliens abduct you and brainwash you this morning?»

«Ah-ha, very funny! But I can’t do Star Wars on a first date, doesn’t set the right mood. You should know that better than me, lover boy.»

Steve wishes he had prepared himself more for the time Eddie would’ve talked about dating, but he didn’t and now he’s standing there at the counter, completely frozen, doing his best to not let his face fall right in front of his first boy crush. At least, the first one he’s aware of.

«Woah, really? I’m sorry for whoever the unlucky date is» Robin intercepts, and Steve could really kiss her for always knowing how to help him.

Steve can only estrange himself from the conversation, as Eddie is describing this “super hot girl” who is “way out of my league”. Robin ends up being the one helping him with the movie and Steve pretends to be busy with inventory in the back.

Robin comes to find him once Eddie is gone «I gave him the worst romantic movie I could think of.»

Steve chuckles and hugs her tight «thank you.»

Out of all the things Eddie has helped him out with, Steve wishes he would also teach him how to fall out of love with him.

[TBD: I'm fixing it I promise!! Sorry for the straight Eddie content guys lmao]

Part 2 | Part 3

[studies-in-the-art-of-deduction]

Stop practicing with pictures!

Alright this is gonna be one of the posts that people seem to like, probably because of the dramatic title and the "hot take" as the kids are calling it these days. This time we're talking about practice, specifically about one of the biggest mistakes i've seen people make with their practice habits

Now from the title you can already tell what i'm talking about, you have got to stop practicing with pictures, at least as much as you probably do compared to practice with irl subjects, this is for one simple reason: pictures are not real life!

Now, the argument of "anyone who posts a picture being very aware of at least vaguely what they're posting and hence your deductions are already being at least partially conditioned" is a very old one, and while actually a good one and one to keep in mind, that's not where i'm going with this

When i say pictures aren't real life i'm talking about the fact that pictures dictate the information we can get, not because of the people posting these pictures, but rather because of the nature of the pictures themselves. Any photos we find have the disadvantage of not allowing for deductions that would be useful or relevant at all in real life

Think about the following situation: you find a picture of someone's hand posted in r/deduction or somewhere similar, and you think "awesome! a fun, challenging picture that doesn't seem too stressful to deduce!" and you start going at it:

You see hairbands on the wrist, so they have long hair

You see nail polish and signs of manicure, so statistically they're probably female presenting

You see the hand is actually quite small, so they're short

You see the skin suggests they're young, maybe late teens/early 20s

You see they're wearing expensive jewlery, so well off economically

You see they're wearing an apple watch, so they have an iphone and potentially other apple devices

These are all good deductions, actually some of them could lead you to some deeper, more interesting conclussions, so all good right? Well let's now say you see this same person (with the same hand, hopefully) walking down the street, how many of those deductions are now just observations at most? The hair being long you can just see, same thing with the height and probably gender they present as, the age isn't much of a deduction either anymore, at most you could maybe narrow it down as a deduction but you can just see the range they probably fall in. You're left with maybe 2 deductions that are actually worth anything

Now yes, this is just an example, and yes i made it up, of course not all practice with pictures is useless, and not all ways of practicing with pictures are unproductive. But my point is this: a lot of people, most people i've met in this community actually, realize that it's a lot easier to just pull up your computer, find some pictures to deduce, and boom practice, not realising that most of their time an effort is probably going down the drain. And then those same people go out into the world, ready to deduce, ready to sit in a public setting and put all their practice to good use, and find that they can't actually deduce anything, or worse, they don't realise (and have no one to tell them) that hey, that deduction about that girl that just walked by having long hair because of the hairband on her wrist, yeah that's not really much of a deduction, everyone can see she has long hair.

So my advice is this: for the love of god, no matter how much you practice online, with pictures of people, keys, phones, daily carry, and rooms (jesus please don't practice only with rooms, when's the last time you actually saw someone's bedroom irl?). Do not make that your primary form of practice, go out, practice in real life scenarios, in coffee shops, and classrooms, and restaurants, watch real people exist in their natural habitat, and try to maximize your deduction abilities there, this is where most of your life is gonna be spent, and where most of your deductive abilities will matter

And apart from all of this, i'll throw in some extra advice: Practice mindfully, know why you're doing the exercises you're doing, know why and how certain types of practice work and if they're actually helping you. If you're gonna practice with pictures be aware that your goal is not to be able to use all of the types of deductions you manage to pull off with a picture in real life, but rather to strengthen your reasoning capabilities to then use those in real life, and reach different, more complex conclusions with them. Pictures are not a supplement for real life, they're a training range to make you sharper, but if you only ever go to a shooting range that doesn't mean you can suddenly join the army with no other training

That's all for this post, see you next weekend... or maybe sooner? ;)

Happy Observing!

-DV

[ave-aria]

#they're designed that way so you can wash your hair in the sink #without hitting your head on the faucet

Are people really bending so low to wash their hands? /gen I thought that was about public bathrooms, and people aren't usually expected to wash their faces in there...

Though even at home I have a tap that rotates for that reason, so I can put my face in the sink without bonking my head on it XD I hate the "very close to the edge" designs so much, ugh

Yeah, actually it's kind of fascinating how much like, R&D goes into even the simplest and most everyday things we use! if you can get your hands on it you should take a look at The Design of Everyday Things by Don Norman, who talks extensively about just. Usual things we use every day and why they were designed the way they were.

But basically, the author goes into how a lot of "updates" to things like faucets to make them 'improved' often fall flat, because people's ideas of what "improved" means, is... very narrow compared to the broad needs of people who use those everyday items in a variety of different ways. You, for example, can only imagine washing your hair in the sink for emergencies maybe, but I bet my sink at work (public, retail) has been used that way by multiple homeless or traveling people nearly every day. I know this for a fact. I find hair in the drain.

It might not be its intended use as a public space, but it IS a common use for a sink (among other uses like washing plates, washing clothes, making a small basin, dumping liquids, etc.) that persists because people are in fact out there, every day, using them in unconventional ways. Our janitor fills her portable mop bucket in those sinks and dumps the used water in there, too. If the basin was any smaller the bucket wouldn't fit, or the dumped water would go everywhere, which doesn't help anybody at all. She's the only person I know of who uses the sink in that way, but she's also pretty important to keeping our bathroom functional! So if the sink didn't have those extra uses, it would be a worse bathroom experience over all.

The book actually talks about that - about people trying to "reinvent" simple things to be more sleek modern and convenient and somehow getting a worse product out of it in general. Because the person redesigning didn't understand the thought process behind the original design, so the *re*-design misses the mark.

Sinks might seem a bit uncomfortable to use, because the faucet is crammed closer to the back of the sink and leaves all that open room for the basin. But it DOES still work to wash your hands, even if the setup is a mite uncomfortable - AND it leaves room for the sink to be used in other, less conventional ways. I.E. washing hair. Certain "improvements" can be made, that are nice in theory but bad in practice. Like: A movable faucet for a sink is more convenient for home sinks, but is also more breakable, (yikes!) and thus unsuitable for public bathrooms, for example. People who try to implement this improvement end up with broken sinks that are no use to anybody. You ever walked into a restroom that's been completely trashed? Do the sinks usually survive the trashing? They do, actually, thanks to proper design.

And that's just one example! I'm sure there are things I don't even think of, like handicapped folks or new mothers or whoever who might use the sink in ways I'm not aware of, that might be impacted by the small change in design. It might make sense to redesign the sink to make it more convenient for hand washing - since that's its stated purpose and also what it's most used for - but those invisible forces are BIG. Those that try to reinvent the wheel often just get a crummier version of the wheel unless it can do all the things the previous wheel did and more. So instead of reinventing the sink, most people take the easy route - they just copy what came before, copy what works. And it keeps working.

I'm rambling augh

Basically what I'm saying is that sinks were originally designed to be good for washing hair and other big, clumsy actions, in addition to handwashing. And since it's easier to copy paste than it is to redesign the wheel, that's what we get. A sink that's a little bit uncomfortable to use for hand washing but one that WORKS, and also can do all these other little things if the need arises. And they didn't have to dump money into redesigning it, lol.

There are actually newer sinks starting to make an appearance that have the basin open but the faucet is pointed more towards the center of it, without being more breakable or in the way, etc. But adoption of the new sink archetype is slow going. Might not catch on, for a variety of reasons, social and political as well as functional. :( The one place in my town that I know has these new sinks also has a 'sharps box' (a place to dump used needles) and despite how objectively useful that feature is, like... The gas station had to FIGHT for that addition.

Again. Crazy how much forethought and consideration and debate goes into one bathroom. You could write BOOKS on the subject.

Anyway, sorry for the infodump! Apparently I think about these things way too much haha

Edit: WAIT I FOUND THE PDF if you're interested

[kumachii]

Currently obsessing over Kazutora with a crush who is the school's sweetheart and loves to help people around.

Them meeting while his crush offers him help with something so very simple, maybe sharing their lunch or providing their notes, with Kazutora's heart fluttering at every interaction.

They seem to bump into each other everywhere, only exchanging small nods of acknowledgement while each losing their mind over how good the other looks, without even trying.

A stray cat that his crush tends to every day near the back alley of their house leading Kazutora to them. They don't mention each other's red faces, just laughing at the coincidence and talking about favourite foods, places and hobbies for hours on end.

Just simple meetups barely suffice and Kazutora finds himself sharing his number on the second week. The first call comes late at night, while his back is resting against a wall, legs thrown over the edge of the roof of an abandoned mall.

It's the most fun Kazutora has had in a long while, especially with his trouble of interacting with others while not fighting. He finds himself thinking about them randomly throughout his day, anticipating their next chat, staring at that one item on the shop's display that reminds him of his crush.

It's more than a bit stupid, he knows. But he's also aware it's not just a infatuation. Not like the one that made his mother take his father's every blow, verbal or physical, because she thought "That's just his way of showing he cares." Until it came to the point where she snapped.

Never like that, he thought.

Honestly, Kazutora is scared. Without having had any example of what a good relationship is supposed to be like, he's basically going into this blind. But the thought of it being them, their ever-present smile and understanding eyes, somehow it makes his raging thought a lot more bearable.

Kazutora didn’t mean for them to find out about his gang life, not finding it in himself to be shunned again because that's a part of him he'd long accepted.

His crush finding out while walking in on him beating the guys from Moebius who recently joined Valhalla for that one incident with Pah's friend's girlfriend.

Not speaking for an entire week because his crush is appalled, rightfully so since they'd never have imagined a kind soul like Kazutora — who helps every person when asked, feeds strays religiously and gladly offers up the last lemon shortcake for the kid who waited in line behind him — to pick fights for fun and be associated with delinquents.

Kazutora thinks everything has gone down the drain. The steady stream of development shattered in a moment. He knows he should apologise, for keeping them in the dark, for forcing on them his selfish desire to keep them close. He doesn't know how to.

But his crush isn't one to back down without an explanation. They march in to his classroom where he bothers to show up for half a day, once a week, pulling him out with an excuse of 'emergency' to the teacher.

They remain silent on the rooftop where neither should be — they'd be in deep shit if anyone found out — but both are too distracted to care. Kazutora has his breath caught in his throat, heart about to leap out of his chest.

It takes one word, "why?" and the warmth of their much smaller hand engulfing his for the floodgates to give out. His body is shaking as Kazutora tells them everything, starting with the fact he had been in juvie — notedly leaving out the murder part of his sentence — and about his violent streak.

He thinks he is too messed up for a perfect person like them to give him a chance. Kazutora is waiting for them to inch away, give him a look crossed between disappointment and terror and leave. Because that's what everyone did.

But then he feels two arms wrap around him. They are barely able to circle his curled up frame but the tenacity of that embrace makes his heart ache, gut wrenching with anxiety.

The words spilling out don't make much sense but Kazutora finds himself repeating "I'm sorry" over and over again. What is he apologising for? A whole lot. For lying, for being a selfish douche. For putting them in harm way without bothering to keep them in the loop.

His attention zeroes in on deft fingers tracing the ink on the branching tendrils of his tattoo. Also something he'd hidden. They had undone the collar of his gakuran, giving him leeway to just take a moment to breathe.

"I don't know why you thought it was best to hide that in the first place, Kazutora, but, I'm sure you had your reasons. I don’t know a whole lot about your world and truth be told, I don't see the point of unnecessary violence. Just promise me that you won't hurt anyone who isn't involved in your business. And dummy, if I wanted to leave, I wouldn't have asked for an explanation, would I? Let's just... never lie to each other like that, okay?"

note: should i make this into like a story with an oc? 😳

[whatispersonalspacejyp]

Comes animae - Where it all begins

Genre: Mature

Pairing: Chan x reader

Warnings series: Stalking, Kidnapping, Non con,

Warnings chapter: Stalking

Small summary and info: Y/N and their best friend Sydney (yes, fun fact I’ll be your best friend in this story, cause why not, while I will be preferred as she, you dear reader will address by they/them) had moved to Korea for their last year in college to study abroad. Y/N got an internship at a high school as an art teacher, but because their income is pretty low they got a kind of second job at a bar. There is a massive vampire clan in South Korea, which many citizens weren’t aware of, they had a lot of branches, such as stray kids, BTS, and got7. While their food source was mainly animals, sometimes humans fell victim too.

Next

It was around 11 O’Clock when I heard my roommate yell for me. “Y/N! I want to go out, can’t sleep.” I rolled my eyes and heard her yell that, so I paused the movie I was watching and got up to walk to her room. “Well, you did interrupt me now, so where do you want to go?” I saw Sydney smirk while getting out of her bed. “I’m not sure maybe that café a couple of blocks away it’s always open past midnight.” I smiled at her while nodding. “Let’s get ready then, give me 5 minutes.” So I walked back to my room to change some jeans and a sweater. While walking to the front door, I grabbed my bag, and at the same time, she walked towards me with a smile. “Let’s go if you are ready.”

“Ah, sadly there weren’t any cute guys,” I said smiling while opening the door to the café. Sydney snickers, “Imagine if one of those older men asks us to eat ramen at their house.” she then shivers at the thought, making me laugh. “Yeah that would have been terrible, I guess leaving them unsatisfied would also be kind of fun.” We both sat down and ordered a drink. After a while and at least five drinks we decided to go home. Sydney took out the last sip of her drink before standing up to pay, as it was her idea in the first place. “I swear if we don’t find our apartment back it's because of our stupid asses. God, we’re so doomed.” She cried out, making me laugh. “Sweety, I know the way, no worries. I easily remember routes.” I mumbled as we started to walk away. The eerie silence was giving me an awful feeling. “Uh, I got a bad feeling about this,” I mumbled looking at Sydney—a moment after I said that I felt myself getting pulled into an ally. Sydney screamed immediately to let us go but to no avail. It was clear that these men were intoxicated. We tried to figure out what they wanted, making out something about money and such.” I tried to come to my senses and kicked the man and tried to get my keys so I would have a weapon.

Chan was roaming around the city with one of his fellow vampires Jungkook. They were on a building roof when Jungkook looked at Chan. “Did you hear the scream?” Chan tilts his head upwards, hearing the noise too. “Bet it’s that alleyway near that café. But let’s take a look.” Jungkook followed Chan and stopped when they saw a group of drunk older men surrounding two younger people, who were clearly in distress. “Let’s help them. Those men have been a problem for a while now, also I’m very thirsty.” Chan snickers at the sight as he doesn’t see it often and cracks his neck and knuckles. “Let’s handle this fast and steady.” He licks his lips in anticipation and runs at an inhuman speed at the group, pushing one of them harshly against the wall, so hard that a loud crack is heard. 

One of the two fell, because of the speed Chan used to get those men away from them. The other girl quickly ran to her friend to pick them up and ran away in fear. So Jungkook and Chan quickly worked out of it, draining them and then quickly following the two to ensure they were safe. They followed and managed to sit somewhere close, where they could watch into the apartment. “They are not from around here, but they smell very delicious.” Their eyes were glowing red, Chan rubbed the remaining blood from his lips and nodded at Jungkook's statement. “Well maybe for another time, Just to make it clear that one who just walked away, they are mine.” Looking through the window it was clear that one of them walked into a room while the other walked into their bedroom. “Yeah, the one in the bedroom right now I wanted her anyway.” Jungkook agrees and they both decide to get back to their place. 

Me and Sydney ran home, not looking back. Once safely home, we decided not to talk and go do our things. Sydney walked into her bedroom and plopped on the bed, clearly falling asleep. I on the other hand still felt freaked out and disgusted. So I decided to take a shower first before putting on some baggy clothes and sat on the couch to watch something to take my mind off after getting harassed. But the alcohol mixing with the tiring events made my eyes close and soon into a slumber on the couch.

Walking up the next morning, my head was killing me. I got up from the couch and into the bathroom to look for some painkillers. When I walked out I noticed Sydney on the couch watching the news.

“Last night there was a new attack, a few men were found dead. What they were doing and how they died is still a mystery, but it seems to be linked to the other people who were found dead by a mysterious animal, that has been pestering our town.”

So last night wasn’t just a weird dream, that happened. “Hey Y/N… that was the ally right, that we were in last night… and those men… they attacked us… right?” I finally looked at Sydney after staring at the TV for a while. “I believe so. But I swear I just kicked one guy. But I do believe there was something else there.” She nods, “Well of course that wasn’t us! Those men had been drained of their blood! I do not know if I should be glad or frightened. That could have been us you know.” Now I looked better at Sydney’s frame, she was shaken, her make-up was smudged, and still in the outfit of last night. “Well we should be happy they didn’t, by the way, go take a shower it could help you know… and wel also you look like shit.” I grin, trying to lighten the mood, while I do agree with her that it was scary what happened. I am also very glad to had a few drinks so I don’t remember everything. “Hey Sydney, let’s avoid alleyways from now on.” She smiled and nodded while getting up. “Yeah, and let’s not tell anyone, my mom would manage to get someone to kidnap me and put me on a flight straight home.” Sydney cried out while walking to the bathroom. I laughed before sitting down on the couch again, grabbing my laptop, to go and get some work done for tomorrow, teaching does come with a fair share of what you could call homework. 

Sydney soon walked back in and put a bowl of cereal in front of me. “You have work tomorrow too?” “Yeah, First two hours teaching, then one online class, and after that well go to my other job, so you will probably not see me tomorrow, and you?” Sydney nods in acknowledgment. “Yeah, but I only have work, just looking at flowers all day. But next week there is an excavation again outside of town. By the way, I’ll do the groceries tomorrow so don’t worry about that. Now on that topic, do you need anything?” I rolled my eyes at her. “Of course, some ramen oh, and please ice cream. I probably need it after such a long day. and if you do you will be the best roommate I ever had!” Sydney nodded and wrote it down. “Yeah yeah, but that’s also because I’m the only roommate you ever had…” We bickered a bit further before deciding to put on a drama in the background while we were doing our things.

Jungkook grabs Chan’s arm and drags him into the nearest room. “I can still smell their blood, it’s driving me crazy!” Chan sighed, “Glad to hear I’m not the only one. Those men from yesterday did not satisfy my hunger.” He then leans against the wall and scratches one of his fangs in annoyance. “I just want a little taste,” he mumbles to himself. Jungkook looks at Chan, eyes glowing red. “We do know where they live, let's just check on them. Stalk them, before taking them.” Chan nods at him with a smirk. “I’ll go take a stroll around the block.” Then Chan pushes himself away from the wall and out of the room, heading for the apartment complex. Once arriving he noticed how busy we were with our things before noticing an open window. So he took this chance and snook in. Chan raises an eyebrow once he notices he is in a bedroom. His eyes glow and his heartbeat rises when the smell only grows stronger. With soundless steps, he walks out of the door of the bedroom and finds himself in the living room. ‘There she is’ His fangs clearly show and he steps a bit closer. ‘Just one taste’ He whispered to himself, the smell now intoxicating him.

I opened my eyes and realized I had fallen asleep on the couch. I then heard a creak from the floor and I turned my head towards the sound and saw nothing. “Sydney?” I kicked the blanket away and decided to investigate since I didn’t get a reply. “Syd? Come on this is not funny.” I walked to the kitchen and then towards her bedroom and saw her working so I closed the door again. “I should stop both drinking and watching horror movies, 'cause it’s now really messing with my head,” I mumbled to myself and stopped in front of my bedroom door but I was distracted when I saw myself in the mirror. “Oh I look terrible, but it’s nothing makeup can’t fix.” Then I walked into the bedroom and smiled at the painting I was making, inspired by some weird dream I had a few nights back. “Ah, just a few more hours, and then the painting will be done.”

Chan noticed the heartbeat changing and quickly moved so he could hide. Once the person walked into the bedroom he tried to slow his heartbeat and peaks from under the bed and noticed the painting, which confused him as it looked like them. He stared at the painting for a while before noticing that the person had left the room, so Chan took the opportunity to crawl from under the bed. He looks around the room once again and then towards the painting. “I’ll make you mine. My obedient doll.” He then quickly jumps out of the window and back to his own home. “I’m back.” Jungkook was gaming with Yugyeom while Bambam walked passed him. “Dude you reak of human.” He laughs before sitting down to see the other two gaming. Chan then quickly made up an excuse. “Well, sometimes I crave blood from them. They taste sweeter than animals.” He tilts his head and rolls up his sleeves. “Hey, I ain’t meaning anything with that comment. Anyway, I hope you had a nice breakfast, also some very good news both JB and RM have gotten jobs at the hospital, so blood packs will come in very soon.” Chan rolled his eyes, why get blood bags when they can just grab any human or animal? “I don’t know if I should be glad.” Bambam looks at Chan confused. “You okay?” Chan nervously points at himself. “Me?” and his head goes all directions before his eyes land on Jungkook. “What about Kook?” He pointed at him, trying to get the focus away from his behavior. “Well, not that I’ve noticed, except for like ignoring questions about last night, like you do now. So can you tell us or should we get either JB or RM to force it out of you? I’m sure they will be curious about your odd behavior.”

I heard the door to Sydney’s room open so I walked back out of my room into the living room. “Done with studying for today.” She nodded and sat on the couch, while I walked into the kitchen. “Those dirty freaks from yesterday made me feel nasty.” Sydney scrunched up her nose and watched as I started making dinner. “Well to be fair, I don’t remember anything.” I wanted to grab something from the top shelve but suddenly felt a pain in my ankle. “Fuck.” I quickly moved to the floor to sit so I could check my ankle. “Oh, Sydney! Don’t worry, just a forgotten sprained ankle!” This made her giggle and she came over to me with a first aid kit. “Hey I had this happen before, no need for that, I can deal with that myself.”I laughed. “Okay fine, at least let's give you a bandage then, and also if it gets worse we get to the doctor okay.” I nodded at Sydney's words, knowing very well I won’t. I bandaged my ankle before slowly getting up and continuing with cooking. Sydney sat down near the counter with a smile. “You know, I had this strange feeling earlier, I had fallen asleep, but then just got the feeling I was being watched, what also didn’t help was that the floor creaked and I noticed my bedroom door moving. I was questioning my sanity.” Sydney laughs. “Well, maybe we’re haunted. I do believe in ghosts you know.” I rolled my eyes. “Yeah yeah, you also do know I believe in them so don’t say those things, it freaks me out. but now that you are sitting here and the food is up on the stove, I’m going for a quick shower. “Please you, you smell. I’ll watch dinner don’t worry.” Sydney said while sticking her tongue out. I did that back before walking towards the bathroom.

[givehimthemedicine]

not to get the morbs on main but do you ever just sit with how incredibly sad "Goodbye, Mike" is? that little El is that ready to sacrifice herself?

the fact that she paused to say goodbye means she expected to die, or at least to get incapacitated and recaptured, which is also extremely sad. I lean towards thinking she didn't know she'd disappear to the UD.

I still don't get what exactly is happening when she does That to Henry and the demogorgon, but regardless, she seems to think it's killing ("if you touch her again I will kill you again") so I don't get the impression that she's aware getting transported is a possible outcome (she doesn't remember '79 in '83). she's already drained from killing the agents and doesn't have the option to recharge, and I think she accepts that the exertion necessary to kill the demogorgon will be more than she can survive.

El has spent a week hearing that Will is important, finding Will is what really matters. and of course she gets the idea Will is more important than she is. he is loved. this is El's first lesson in what that even looks like. this boy is sorta like her real-world counterpart - she's occupying his space in his world, and she's getting a glimpse at what it looks like for a kid her age to be a person, loved and missed, and not just a thing with a serial number on it that its owner wants back.

for that week, El is important because Will is important.

nobody has ever valued anything about El except what she can do with her powers, so she thinks her only value to the party and Joyce is in her usefulness in finding Will, or protecting them. tbh they didn't do a ton to challenge that assumption in season 1 in ways that would be clear to her (not that they had any idea of her experience).

"but the hug at the quarry!" yeah I love it, but she had just saved their lives. even though hugs are nice and she never got them at the lab, she still could think it's because she did something for them. "Joyce hugs her at the end of the bath!" one of the best moments in the series, but again, El had just done something for Joyce. that may be the only motive she sees for it. maybe it's all just lab taffy. what affection has anyone given El that doesn't look to her like part of an exchange or a reward for performance?

El's willingness to sacrifice herself isn't just about loving her new friends and wanting to protect them but like. by that time, she'd done all she could on the Will mission. he's Schrodinger'd at this point, it doesn't even matter the outcome. he's either irretrievable or being retrieved, either way, now that she's served her purpose she's of no further value to them.

if that's her impression, is she proven wrong? while she's still vulnerable from submitting herself to a triggering, exhausting experience to help them, Hopper betrays her location to Brenner in exchange for a longshot chance at finding Will.

(Yeah I know his options were limited and of course he's gonna be more committed to helping Will because he has a longtime relationship with Joyce. but. an authority figure handing a horribly abused child back to her abusers after she trusted him for help does not make me a big Hopper fan, even if he planned to try to doublecross them later. "I'll tell you where your little science experiment is" please.)

but as hurtful as Hopper's trade is, the saddest part is that El is willing to make a very similar one herself. it's more important for Will and these people to have each other back than for her to try to have her freedom. she wouldn't want what's been stolen from her to be stolen from anyone else. it's better for her to be the one that goes away, to make it safe for all of them. she has no one to miss her, not how Will does.

I have to wonder if the way she killed the demogorgon ("killed" "the demogorgon") was the only way she could've gone about it. like, she didn't try to snap its neck first or anything. her Plan A is a method that jeopardizes her own life.

does she see a future for herself in the outside world? one where she isn't forever hunted, and a constant danger to her friends? one that doesn't dead end back in the lab, under crueler conditions than ever before? is that a life she hopes to survive for?

imagine if ST really ended up being an anthology, and all she went out with was one resigned little "Goodbye, Mike" and we never found out any more about it. I would be in an institution

[leomonae]

I can understand why they wouldn't have wanted to leave BG3 fans who are new to the series (which is likely the vast majority of them tbh) feeling confused or overwhelmed by overdoing it, but I really do kinda wish there were more tiny indications of... continuity across the three games. It doesn't need to be huge; I don't need every character to get the Sarevok and Viconia and Jaheira and Minsc and (three of) the Five treatment by showing up in person (please god do not give any other characters the Viconia treatment, Larian, you and WotC really did her dirty), but offhand mentions? Extra lore books? Heroic statues and paintings celebrating a few more of our old heroes, perhaps?

It's awesome that Jaheira talks about Khalid some, and you can find the letter from him! Especially when his death in BG2 didn't feel like it had the greatest sense of closure at the time; I actually really appreciated that, after the pair of them were in my party all through BG1. And I know Minsc talks at least a little bit about Dynaheir, too, even if I don't recall him telling me her actual, like... name, as yet. That is exactly what I would have loved to see more of - little bits of story to cement the feeling that these older characters were a part of this world and had an effect on it in their time. What there was seemed to be largely restricted to the two party members; I remember there was a Firecam something or other when I picked up Minsc, and I squeaked in happiness because Keldorn was one of my favourites to bring along with me! I would have loved more of that sort of casual name-dropping in contexts where it wasn't like you were browsing a museum exhibit of "old companions greatest hits"; that's just showing us they affected the people who knew them personally, not that they had a place and a significant role in the wider world too.

And even besides it just plain being nice to have that, sometimes the lack feels a little... jarring? Maybe I've just missed things, or picked the wrong dialogue choices for them to show up, but, like...

Jaheira, you should be 100% aware of the fact that there's a cure for vampirism; why did you not carve out Cazador's heart, assuming Astarion didn't manage to completely pulverise it in his stabbing frenzy? Gale, you've surely heard of the archmage Bhaalspawn Imoen, right? Didn't she go around constantly pranking your mentor Elminster or some such, after the events of BG2?

Also, given that Jaheira was apparently canonically part of the BG2 party, is Raphael really sure he wants to go getting into a fight with a group that includes one of the people who helped slay Demogorgon and also at least one demigod? Really really, buddy? That seems like a good idea to you? I realise she appears to have been level drained by a significantly more dangerous vampire than the one we were just facing, but still. You know there's at least a 50/50 chance she's got a scroll of Wish stashed away somewhere, right?

(also Mephistopheles is in no way hanging out in the Hells at this point in time, seeing as how I killed him in NWN thank you very much)

[creativecuteness]

Total Slaughter Island (Rescue Rangers) Chapter 1: One Month Earlier

Alright the official chapter one, I actually had a lot of fun writing this one. Back stories and different POV's are always so much fun to write. I don't really have much to say other than thanks to all the people who are reading this story I hope you'll like the chapter and more insight on Dakota's relationship with Chris.

Dakota Natalie was a kindhearted, gentle, quiet, but compassionate young girl. Her long brown hair and trustworthy eyes made her more approachable than the busy, stressed-out, and, at times, cold and distant members of Fresh TV. Who were scrambling to make deadlines and get the live feed up and running for what is hoped to be the hottest new teenage reality show, Total Drama Island.

Ever since last year, Chris has been planning his show with crazy challenges, high stacks, and, of course, drama-filled rivalries. (And maybe a hint of romance if sparks flow.)

But the real kicker was the one million buckeroos (in Canadian currency, of course) that were offered to the contestant that lasted the longest. (In other words, the person who avoids elimination in a pool of twenty-one other teenagers.)

Dakota expected that money to not even last a week. No kid, no matter how responsible, should have that much money without a little supervision. If she won that prize, her father would store the money away for both a rainy day and college funds. (Not that she even planned to go to college.)

Even though she’s been working for Chris for about six months, she couldn’t say she truly enjoyed it. Sure, the job paid well, and she got to work alongside her dad; however, it was just too overwhelming; the constant hustle and bustle left her physical, social, and mental batteries drained.

It was just too much for her introverted personality; she couldn’t handle high-stress and high-pressure jobs. She desperately needed some quiet time to recharge and had been contemplating quitting for a while. However, it was a stable income most kids her age didn’t have, not to mention she’d have to find a new job to replace this one, and she had no idea what she even wanted to do for a living. So, until she got her life figured out, she'll hold her tongue and exhaustion and went back to work. If she could even call it that since things have been very slow today, it was meant to be the series premiere of Total Drama, and yet she hasn’t been called down for coffee requests, to take notes on viewer opinions, or to watch the live feed to make sure everything was in working order.

Heck, she hadn’t heard from Chris since yesterday, which wasn’t a call for concern in itself per se. Her relationship with her boss has soured a bit ever since he started working on this project. Cutting corners by finding the cheapest island money could buy and lying to everyone, stating the game show took place in a five-star resort. Heck, even the food Chef was cooking broke every health code imaginable.

To say the show was created by a mentally stable individual was the understatement of the century. The way the contents were treated seemed like Chris thought they were cartoon characters doomed to be thrust into slapstick gag after violent slapstick gag. And to Dakota, that mindset was a lawsuit waiting to happen, not that she was surprised.

She always had a sneaking suspicion that Chris was masking his true personality, and Dakota was pretty sure he didn’t notice these observations the young girl took note of. Whether Chris was consciously aware of these patterns of behavior did matter, as it just proved her point that Chris was not what he seemed. In fact, Dakota brought up the behavior to her friend Amy, who was studying to become a therapist, and she agreed that Chris may be a sociopath. Or was it Psychopath? Dakota could never remember the differences.

She glanced at the clock hanging overhead; it was almost midday, meaning the contestants should be participating in their first challenge already, but the cameras were still down. Where was Chris? Why did it seem the show had gone radio silent? And more importantly, what was going on?

She was tempted to call someone and ask if everything was alright when, speak of the devil, she heard panicked whispers and peeked out the door frame to see numerus cameramen, producers, interns, and Chris and Chef themselves. They were back eight weeks early. no campers in sight, and no prize money was distributed. (Or at least not to her knowledge.)

She strained to hear what they were discussing, praying they came back cause of camera failure, but what she was able to make out shook her to the core.

“That was a close one; I thought I was going to be next.” An intern breathed in relief but seemed pretty shaken.

“Yeah, forget that stupid island; I’d rather make it big in the city than stay on a floating death trap.” Another staff member chuckled uneasily; the air felt tense with fear, whatever happened seemed to give everyone a fright.

“What happened down there?” Dakota questioned, “And where’s the campers?” She continued listening, and what she heard next made her heart drop.

“Good job, everyone! phew, we just avoided certain disaster. Now, how about you wash up? I’ll make some calls and see if we can rangel a new setting some more teens and forget the whole murderer on the island thing ever happened.

Dakota’s eyes widened, murderer?! Was someone murdered while filming? She feared something like this would happen considering the challenges Chris laid out weren’t safety-inspected.

“Please don’t let it be a camper; please don’t let it be a camper.” She prayed, hoping it was just an intern and not one of the contestants. Speaking of which, where were they? The young girl hoped Chris wasn’t heartless enough to just leave without them, but of course, asking Chris to be selfless in a situation like that is wishful thinking.

"Uh, Chris, are you sure it was a good idea to leave the rest of the kids on the island? For all we know, the killer could still be there.” Chef spoke his concern,

“Nonsense, they should be fine." He brushed off with a giggle, “I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the campers had a secret bloodlust and took it out on poor Zeke. If the killer doesn’t kill them, starvation and a harsh winter will. Now, I don’t want a word of this getting out to the public if anyone asks; the show ran into technical difficulties and will no longer be filmed live. Understand?” He glared, to which everyone agreed, not wanting to lose their job.

“Good, now if we..." Dakota listened until Chris got out of earshot, unable to believe her ears. A murderer on Camp Wawanakwa? And someone named Zeke was killed?!

“Wait, who was Zeke again?” She thought, she never got the chance to meet the campers in person.

She was startled out of her thoughts when a fellow co-worker eating some chips spoke up, “What’s up, girl? You seem like you’ve seen a ghost."

Dakota looked at her friend, Emily Jones. She had dark brown hair, two strands tied into small pigtails, brown eyes, wore a pink striped shirt, black jeans, ankle-high boots, and a black jacket tied around her waist.

“Yeah, just surprised to see Chris back so soon.” She spoke, feeling uneasy about the whole thing: “I thought the show lasted eight weeks?”

“Oh, you didn’t get the memo?” Emily spoke up, sitting upright.

“What memo?”

“The show’s been canceled; apparently some kid named Ezekiel Miller kicked the bucket. I guess the real world was too much for a sheltered homeschooler.” She revealed it a bit too nonchalantly for her friend’s liking.

“Wait, what happened?!”

“Some surfer dude found his severed head under his bunk late last night, and his legs were found not long after. The network was so freaked out they pulled the show off the air before any damage could be done.”

“Did they see who killed him?”

“Nope, Homeschooler was last seen heading to the confessional when some maniac grabbed him by the scruff of his hoodie and dragged him deeper into the forest. When Zeke didn’t return, Chris sent someone to search for him and found his legs and a threatening message in the outhouse. Yeah, they ran off like a bunch of animals with their tails between their legs and hightailed it out of there.”

“Did they get that all on camera?”

“Most of it, thankfully, it wasn’t shown on air. They were more concerned with scenes that showed the whole group than one lowly, sexist teenager raised by misogynistic parents in the prairies. Oh, did I mention he’s been homeschooled his whole life?”

“Yeah, once or twice.” Dakota muttered, surprised by how Emily wasn’t bothered by this. “What about the other campers? Please tell me they’re  safe."She hoped, but the next words her friend spoke shattered them immediately.

“Nope, those kids are dead meat. Chris and the crew bailed shortly after Zeke was found and left everyone else behind. Assuming the killer isn’t one of them, those campers are as good as dead.”

“No, they can’t be dead!” She yelled, feeling angry tears well up inside of her. “We can’t just sit back and let them die; we have to call the police, the coast guard, any..." Dakota abruptly stopped the last bit of Emily’s sentience, registering, “Wait, what do you mean assuming the killer isn’t one of them?”

“Exactly what I said.” She replied, “Isn’t it obvious? Someone must’ve gotten fed up with Ezekiel’s sexist remarks and confronted him about it. Being the socially oblivious person he is, he continued running his mouth, causing the blackened to become even more fed up until... She paused for dramatic effect, Dakota on the edge of her seat, as Emily explained her theory: “Wham! The murderer pulls out a weapon, and Homeschooler is no more. My money is on the delinquent; he’s been to juvie, ya know, and had a switchblade on him. I wouldn't put it past him to steal a meat cleaver from the kitchen.”

Emily returned to snacking, leaving her friend stunned silent. Was it possible? Could one of the campers be capable of doing this? To an innocent teenager who, yes, had backward views on society, but it wasn’t his fault, his parents filled his brain with misinformation.

“What are we going to do?” She asked quietly,

Emily turned to her friend and sighed sadly for once, showing empathy for the situation: "Nothing; the network doesn’t want to risk any more casualties, and getting authorities is out of the question. The island is undisclosed, and revealing that information will make us prime suspects, and according to the network and Chris, we can’t risk that. We spent a lot of money on this show’s success, and now that it’s canned, they don’t want to waste any more resources on some flimsy rescue mission. Their words not mine. Wait, where are you going?!”

Dakota got out of her seat, emotionally driven and demanding, answers, “I’m paying Chris a visit.” She spoke, straightening her denim jacket and pink dress. Fellow workers bid her good afternoon as she walked past, but they were ignored as she stormed down the halls until she reached a door with a large star-shaped dressing room sticker that read Chris McLean in black cursive letters. Dakota didn’t bother to knock as she barged in.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!" She exclaimed and automatically regretted not knocking. “Oh god! Ewgh! fluff!” She cursed, shielding her eyes, seeing Chris not only shirtless but fully orange.

“Oooo, someone used your tanning bed again?” She asked, the initial disgust fading away, seeing a bit of humor in the tanning incident. “Ha, that’s called Karma Bud." She thought smugly,

“Yep, and I have a pretty good idea who.” He said, “Also, I don’t remember giving you bragging privileges. What’s with the sudden outburst?"

Fully remembering why she came, Dakota put on her best defensive stance and confronted her boss. “Chris, I know what you did; you left twenty-one teenagers to die on a deserted island with no way out.”

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there. First of all, I didn’t abandon them; I just took a minor detour. Second of all, I didn’t leave anyone for dead. I have full intention on returning to rescue them.”

“Oh yeah, when?” She inquired, not convinced in the slightest,

Chris winced, knowing that lie wasn’t going to work. “Well, aren’t you just on a roll? Okay, yes, I’ll admit maybe I ran off when I saw that message and Ezekiel’s legs; maybe I should’ve warned the campers and got us all out of there. But I freaked out. Could you blame me?! The last thing I needed was my head on a platter, not to mention the time it’d take to get everyone out could’ve meant someone else’s life.”

"Yeah, well, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few!” Dakota snapped, “Now those teens are really gonna die and...! Have you no soul?!”

Chris winced again, trying to console an angry and emotional girl. “If this is what raising kids is like, I’m gonna rethink my answer on adopting.”

"Look, I know this is hard for you to understand. But sometimes you need to make sacrifices. Sure, a few people may get a bit ticked off, but one day they’ll get over it.”

“Not if it’s one of their children dying! Those kids had families, Chris; they’re the same age as me, and they could be dead in a week's time! Career or no career, they will never forgive you for this; you’re a coward, Chris! You saw danger and ran the moment it peaked its ugly head. You just cost innocent lives their whole future!” She yelled, fully crying now.

“Dakota, you know the network doesn’t want us...

"No, save it! I don’t care what the network wants; I want them home safe and sound and the killer brought to justice. I don’t want to be mixed up in your mistakes, and if you won’t rescue them, so help me, I will!” She yelled, slamming the door, leaving Chris dumbfounded. “Well, she took that just about as well as I expected.” He chuckled to himself. He underestimated Dakota’s kind heart; she felt sympathy and empathy extremely well, way better than most people here. It allowed her to connect with people’s issues and, at times, helped them relate. And considering the situation, she understood how everyone must be feeling. Scared, alone, and probably sacred for life.

“Ugh, what have I gotten myself into?” He groaned, knowing Dakota was going to be fighting tooth and nail to get those kids home. However, the network’s mind was set; they've convinced themselves that one of the campers killed Ezekiel, and while Chris would rather believe it himself, to believe the campers have a better chance at survival. Deep down, he knew he did a horrible, criminal, and overall unforgivable thing. And yet he did nothing to change it as Dakota desperately tried to get someone to rescue the remaining twenty-one campers. God, he didn’t want to think about how those numbers could be dwindling by the day.

It wasn’t long before word got out, and missing person reports were filed. In hindsight, they should have seen this coming. Word spread pretty quickly in this day and age. All it took was one loose-lipped employee, and the rest was history; the public outcry was overwhelmingly negative. People rallying together, demanding answers, and pressuring the network to fire Chris and save the teens, or at least reveal the information needed so authorities can handle it.

Sadly, the studio stayed tight-lipped, deciding not to get involved, much to everyone’s dismay.

Dakota walked into the office with a heavy heart. It has been one month since Ezekiel’s murder, and calls from distressed parents have become daily. Dakota lost count of how many times a parent or relative would call, asking for updates or a tiny sliver of information on the filming location. Unfortunately, not even Dakota or any employee knew the location of Camp Wawanakwa; only Chris, Chef, and a few higher-ups knew where the island was and didn’t want that information to get out of fear of being prime suspects.

“Ugh, they’re just a bunch of cowards—the whole lot of them.” Dakota thought bitterly, head down, and letting her muscle memory drag her to her office. “I can’t believe any of them; children are dying on a deserted island, and they don’t even have the decency to give the public peace of mind.”

The crestfallen girl moped into the room as Emily was reassuring another parent.

“Mrs. Anderson You have every right to be concerned for your son. No, worrying doesn't make you a bad mother; it’s completely normal in situations like these. Just know that we are doing everything we can to ensure he and everyone else comes back safely.” She reassured, “Yes, Mrs. Anderson? Yes, hello, yes, it appears you are going through a tunnel; I’m gonna have to let you go. Okay bye.” She sighed as she hung up.

“Who was that?”

Cody’s mother: She called me on her way to work, and it's the third time this week too.” Emily answered, resting her head in her arms, “We can’t keep living like this; we need to do something now before we get sued!”

“Oh, so now you're taking this seriously?"

The other glared, "Oh, don’t give me that look. You know I brush things off and use sarcasm to deal with stressful things; it’s my way of coping. Believe me when I say I am on your side."

The other didn’t speak; she just glared at her friend as an employee peeked inside. “Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but there’s a meeting starting. I wouldn’t skip this if I were you.” She spoke simply and left.

The two looked at each other and silently agreed, rushing to the meeting room praying for good news. Walking inside, it was deadly quiet; tensions were high as whispers were exchanged and concerns were expressed. Dakota locked eyes with Chris, who for once seemed remorseful. She quickly looked away, setting her gaze on the head C.E.O., who sighed deeply.

“It appears our decision to stay silent was a mistake.” He started, which many agreed with: “It has come to my attention that many parents have called out of both worry and dead set on finding their kids themselves through private investigators; some have even threatened legal action, which is something becoming increasingly harder to ignore. I have called you all here today because we need ideas. We are slowly running out of time, and staying silent is just making things worse. I believe it is time that we

“I know who the killer is!” Chef screamed bargaining into the room, much to everyone’s surprise and shock.

Honestly, I made Emily way too nonchalant about the whole killer on the island thing, but this is how she copes deep inside she's probably freaking out like everyone else, and I know Danganronpa came out in 2010 but Island of the Slaughter has some Danganronpa vibes, so I had to throw in the blackened reference. Also seems like Chef may have an idea who the killer of Wawanakwa is. But the question is does he? Find out next week when I post the last written chapter that I have backlogged. See ya on the flip side ;)