#something so awful about like imagine this

[palskippah]

Hi! The other day I thought of this AU where Nimona and Gloreth are girlfriends and uni students, and each got their own cat :]

Under the cut are more drawings and some ideas!

-Both Nimona and Gloreth study a career that is more about practical work than having to study theoric stuff (thinking about something like visual communication)

-Ambrosius is one of those white cats that are kinda blonde in some parts, and Ballister is that kind of black cat that is very ungraceful and has very big eyes

-Nimona found Ballister and befriended him when he was a street cat going around her old apartment's stairs, specifically around the banister. He had had a broken leg that healed wrong and he limped a lot. When she decided to take him in, she took him to the vet and she hurt more than Ballister did when they told her they had to amputate his leg for his own good.

>He benefited greatly from it and now has very good balance woo

-When Nimona finally had him at home she realized that he's really bossy, so his 'government name' is Ballister Boldheart (since she's Nimona Brightheart- imagine her going you were really brave :) so she wrote down his name like that instead of just giving him her own or leaving him with no last name) but the nickname she always calls him is Boss.

-Goldenloin is an entirely made up name, and Nimona laughed her ass off the first time Gloreth explained why she named him that, so much that they almost got kicked out from class where they were waiting for their turn to receive feedback from their professor.

-Ambrosius and Ballister are both young cats, like a bit over one year (with the whole Ballister and Ambrosius being just knighted and that, they must be young adults jdfkg)

>They're besties but also cats and they're always cuddling or fighting

-Also just because, Ambrosius doesn't really like baths but Ballister doesn't mind them

-They clean eachother a lot too, and that ends up with Ambrosius spitting black hairballs and Ballister spitting white/blonde ones

-Nimona and Ballister fight a lot, mostly because Ballister attacked her first, usually for no reason (being a young cat, I guess)

-But they cuddle a lot too :]

-Whenever Gloreth's doing skincare or anything spa related, Ambrosius wants to be included too and she usually indulges him, and then he's the prettiest cat

-Ambrosius isn't allowed outside like Ballister is, but sometimes he gets ahold of things when he's near the windows or the balcony, like cockroaches or small birds, and he always brings them as gifts for either Gloreth, Nimona or Ballister

-When Nimona and Gloreth started living together they all immediately started sharing the bed

-Also because I'm myself, there's going to be a cat Baby too jkfd

-When Nimona took Ballister to the vet and stuff, she was told that he was a sterilized male, and since they were both males, Gloreth wasn't in a hurry to sterilize Ambrosius, he never went out of the house too, so she didn't really worry about that.

-Anyways Nimona notices that Ballister's getting chonky but that's it, and then one day she gets home to her cat laying with five tiny kitties with him and cleaning one of them, and Ambrosius cleaning Ballister too and she's like 🧍

>She's still too surprised but also Ballister sorta forced her to sit so he could present their kitties one by one, and she had to go aw, wow! :D with each of them because otherwise he'd meow at her angrily for not paying attention

-Anyways they got seven cats now and Nimona and Gloreth decide to keep just one of the kitties, and that one they kept is Baby and they call him Kitty

-Baby's a black cat too woo

-Also neither Nimona nor Gloreth like folding clothes so sometimes they leave them there and Ballister and Ambrosius lay on top of them, and leave them with black and white fur that their humans must take off later

-Also they still use he/him pronouns with Ballister

-Both Nimona and Gloreth take their cat to the vet so they don't have any more kitties.

That's it! :D

[joudeq]

kento x reader

~ cornball

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modern au : nerd!nanami x reader

tags : fluff / AWFUL jokes / hes a silly nerd / TW: exams / modern au / jjk / kento x reader (not gender specific) / oneshot

a/n : just a short nanami drabble bc i love him hes such a stupid loser

context : hes your nerdy roommate and you're both studying for upcoming finals, you find yourself overwhelmed with the workload and he tries cheering you up

ALSO 8 followers i love u guys

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The low hum of your desk lamp filled the otherwise quiet room. The exam was just a couple of days away, and the tension was eating away at you. You had been studying for hours, your brain already tired of trying to memorize everything. Each sentence on the page started to blur together, and you found yourself thinking more about how much you wanted a break than the material in front of you.

Nanami, on the other hand, was the picture of composure. He sat across the room, as usual, his posture straight and his focus unwavering. You could hear the sound of his pen scratching across the paper, making meticulous notes in the margins of his textbook.

You tried to focus on your own work, but it was useless. Your mind kept wandering. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You let out an exasperated sigh, slumping down in your chair.

"I'm going to fail," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes in frustration. "I can't do this. There's s no way."

He glanced up from his work, his usual calm and composed expression softened by a hint of concern. "You're fine," he said gently. "You've been studying for weeks. You'll be ready."

You groaned again, feeling the weight of your anxiety pressing down on you. "It just doesn't feel like enough. I can't focus. My brain is mush after digesting that much chemistry at once!"

He set his textbook aside and stood up slowly, walking toward you. He was always so composed, like the world was always under control. But tonight, something about the way he looked at you made him seem a little unsure, even bashful.

"I think you need a break," Nanami said, his voice unusually soft. "Maybe... maybe I could tell you a joke? That might help, right?"

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was serious. Nanami? Kento Nanami? Telling a joke? You could never imagine him doing such a thing. His usual serious, no-nonsense demeanor didn't exactly scream 'comedian.'

"You?" you asked, almost teasing. "You want to tell me a joke?"

He shifted awkwardly, his face turning a faint pink, and you could tell that this was definitely not his comfort zone. "Well, I thought It might make you feel better?"

You sat up straighter in your chair, genuinely curious now. You didn't expect your roommate to go for something like this. "Alright, I'm all ears," you said with a genuine smile, even though it was a little teasing.

Nanami cleared his throat, straightening up and pushing up his glasses as though he were about to deliver some profound piece of wisdom. There was a nervous energy about him, and you could see the awkwardness in the way he held his hands at his sides. "Okay, here goes. It's a simple one, don't get your hopes up." he muttered.

You waited expectantly, trying to hold back a smile.

"Why don't skeletons fight each other?" he asked, the serious tone in his voice making it sound like this was a big deal.

You blinked at him, confused but intrigued. "Uh,why?"

And without missing a beat, Nanami hesitated for just a moment, then nervously blurted out:

"Because they don't have the guts."

....

A long silence followed. Nanami's gaze flickered to the floor, looking extremely uncomfortable as he waited for a response. You froze for a moment, processing the full weight of the corny joke. You stared at him, and he was just standing there, his cheeks lightly flushed, clearly waiting for you to either laugh or tell him how terrible it was.

You couldn't t help it. The awkwardness of it all was too much. You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as you practically collapsed onto the desk.

"Oh my god, Nanami," you gasped between giggles. "That was...That was so bad!"

Nanami's face turned a deep red, and he immediately looked away, a little embarrassed. "I thought it might help - you know, make you smile," he stammered, scratching the back of his neck. "It was a good joke, right? I mean - it's classic humor," he looked at you then, his eyes sparkling as if he was seeking your approval, a small smile curling the corners of his lips as he watched you laugh.

You wiped away a tear from the corner of your eye, still chuckling. "It was so bad that it was hilarious. I'm literally dying here."

Nanami shuffled awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond. He had always been so calm, so serious, but seeing him this flustered made him even more endearing. He cleared his throat again, still trying to regain his usual cool. "It was just a joke," he muttered, his hands still slightly trembling. "I thought I'd lighten the mood."

You straightened up, finally able to control your laughter, and gave him a softer smile. "You definitely lightened the mood. In a very unique way."

He rubbed the back of his neck, still flushed but also looking a bit relieved that you weren't somehow upset. "I shall try harder next time. Maybe I'll work on my material."

You smiled at him, feeling your nerves ease a little. "Nah, you're good. You've definitely earned a break for the night. But next time, maybe leave the dad jokes for another day, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, a little embarrassed but also clearly pleased to have made you laugh, even if in the most awkward way possible. "I'll take your criticism as a compliment."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you, It was the way he had stepped out of his comfort zone just to make you feel better, to bring some levity into your stressful night.

Suddenly, the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease, and you realized that for the first time tonight, you were genuinely at ease. Nanami had managed to make you forget about the looming exam, if only for a moment. And in that moment, everything else felt a little less important.

You paused for a moment, looking at him with a soft smile. The warmth in his expression was enough to make your heart flutter, and without thinking, you stepped forward and gently kissed his cheek, your lips lingering for just a second.

Nanami froze for a moment, his face going beet red. "W-What was that for?" he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

You smiled at him, feeling a rush of affection as you took a step back. "For making me laugh," you said softly, your eyes lingering on his flustered face. "You're a good guy, Nanami."

He blinked, still processing the kiss, and you could see the tips of his ears turning red. "Oh, um.. thank you," he mumbled, his usual stoic nature failing him for a moment.

The awkward tension in the air was gone, replaced with the comfortable silence between you two. You both knew that the exam was still there, looming over your heads, but for a little while, it didn't matter.

Well, not until you opened the exam paper in front of you the next day.

Sheesh, you seriously should've studied for this.

[elodieunderglass]

So! Seeing as the occasion where Killie and Derek met was riddled with geeks, I imagine him introducing himself as Killie would have made lots of ears perk up: people asking if he's got a brother named Fili or whatnot, asking if he's a second-generation geek perhaps, maybe even commenting that IT CHECKS OUT because Kili was considered fair among the dwarves?! Which must have had him in some amount of emotional turmoil, for sure! Tell me when I'm getting close

(Killie the Jockey OC and his terrible, no good, very bad life)

Oh NO. Killie has zero frame of reference for fantasy fiction 🥲

Once he worked out half of what they were talking about - and said something absolutely awful, I’m sure, in response -

- then, in kindness and horror, the geeks would help him assemble the following series of facts:

Killie does not have dwarfism. It would be fine if he did, but he doesn’t.

Killie is on the cusp of being considered a little person; but not having a condition that causes his height, and not particularly experiencing related medical issues or social discrimination, doesn’t self-identify as one.

He’s just at the bottom of the percentile, exactly where the natural distribution meets the definition for little people. Someone has to be there!

That’s maths.

He expresses this with honesty, but not much delicacy.

And somehow without referencing the fact that in his day job, his size is prized.

Killie somehow has not mentioned his day job.

Killie does not understand the concept of the Hobbit, and digs his heels in mulishly at the initial attempts to explain it.

and it has to be rotated several times before being pushed into his head.

Where the nerds suspect that he instantly pushes it out again, with a sort of automatic immune system rejection response. His antibodies simply eject all reference to hobbits and fantasy fiction

Killie has very little imagination anyway

He’s touched too much grass. Grass overdose.

Well. He’s been thrown onto grass at 40 mph too many times and walked away carrying his own bones. That’s like touching grass

And furthermore!!

There is a world of difference between the name shown to him (Kíli) and Killie.

Kíli is KEE—Lee. Anyone can see that. It’s got - it’s got - it’s got í. With the hat on. Look at it. Look at the - thingy. it’s wearing a fucking hat -

Killie is KILL-Y. Rhymes with Billy. Completely different.

At that point Derek breaks in going “I think we’ve all learned something!” And drags him away.

“You’re so interesting, Killie”

[carefreecoffee]

⋇⊶⊰Fluffbruary Day 22: Proposal w/Hitoshi Shinsou⊱⊷⋇

Word count: 1096,gender-neutral reader

It was a slow, lazy day. The sound of rain pattering against the window and filling the comfortable silence in the room. His eyes were fixed on the screen of the TV, not paying attention to anything but the movie. The hand wrapped around you, however, wasn’t so focused. He was running his fingers along your skin, tracing patterns and playing with your hand. 

He felt your body cuddle into him deeper, chuckling lowly. He didn’t say anything, but his expression softened a bit. There was something… Different about today. He was acting gentler. More affectionate. He was almost too calm. 

He shifted his body so that you were in his lap, both of his arms wrapped around your waist. His breathing was steady and quiet, and his expression was almost… Melancholy. 

Hitoshi looked down at you in his lap, gently rubbing his finger against your waist. The ring box was burning like a heavy weight in his pocket. He’d been planning it for weeks, but was this really the moment? Would it be right now? How would you even react? 

Hitoshi’s eyes slowly roamed over you, taking in your form. You were so... perfect. Your eyes, your hair, your body, your hands, your everything. His eyes were clouded by an emotion he couldn’t completely understand as he pulled you closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. His breathing had picked up just slightly, his body tensing. It was the right time. He knew it was the right time. 

He inhaled slowly, trying to calm his quickly beating heart before he spoke up. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper “y/n?”  

As you turned to face him, he could feel his heart skip a beat, not knowing if it's from the look you’re giving him or the nervousness bubbling up in his stomach. “Hm?” 

For a moment, his gaze locked onto your eyes. Soft, loving, slightly nervous. Then his eyes drifted down to your lips before returning to your eyes. He held back the words he was wanting to say back behind his teeth as he looked at you for another minute before speaking. 

“Just… Thinking...” 

"Haha well that's never good” you playfully chide 

He tried to make a joke to hide his growing anxiety, but he couldn’t find it in him. He almost just blurted it out then and there, but he held back. He was too damn nervous. Why was he nervous? It’s not like you’d say no — Right? He was trying to ignore the voice in his head. 

“Hey love” He moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, his thumb running gently over your skin.  “There’s something I need to ask of you.” 

“Yeah sure, what's up?”  

He needed to say it. Get it out. No backing out now. He took another deep breath, his voice still quiet and soft. “Just…” He began, but the words got stuck in his throat. How the hell was he going to say it…? “…I love you. You know that, right?” 

Your expression softens softly at the admission, “Aw yeah 'toshi of course I do. I love you too” 

He smiled softly, his expression softening more. He exhaled softly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. He brought your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss against your palm. 

“I meant that I love you with every single fiber of my being. Every little piece of me. And I can’t imagine me without you in my life. I can’t…” 

“Shin, where is this coming from...?” you chuckle nervously at his weird confession in the evening of your shared apartment. 

His expression wavers between nervous and soft, but he still has a firm grip on your hand. He gently squeezes it, his eyes not leaving yours. “I just… I had a realization, that’s all…” He says, his voice still shaky. He knew he needed to just spit it out. Just get it out there. A small, nervous smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he softly repeated your name. 

“Will you,” He began, his voice just loud enough to fill in the silence of the apartment. “-Will you marry me..?” 

You watch as he pulls out the small round box, his pale hands obviously shaking. You look between him and it, eyes widening to saucers, "A-are you fuckin' with me Hitoshi...?” 

His heart was pounding behind his ribcage, desperate to escape. He took another breath before he spoke, his voice now less shaky but still quiet. “I... I would never joke about this, sweetheart. I’m being completely serious.” 

He opened the box carefully, revealing the ring within. It was a simple silver band, a small white glimmering stone at the center. Not too extravagant or expensive, but not cheap either. It was the perfect balance. He looked up at you again as his hand fidgeted with the box, waiting for your response. 

Slack jawed, you look down at it before meeting his lilac eyes, nodding after finally reeling your conscious back in. “Yes 'Toshi!” 

He wrapped his arms around you in an almost desperate manner, like he was afraid you were going to disappear if he let go. He buried his head into your shoulder, letting out a shaky exhale as a wave of emotion hit him. Relief, happiness, love, affection… so much of it all in one. 

After pulling away, he shakily took the ring out of the box, nervously chuckled between the two of you before you cupped his face, bringing him into a feverish kiss. He smiled against your lips, his hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. 

After a few moments, he finally pulled away, his forehead resting gently against yours. He inhaled slowly, feeling as if he was on top of the world. He looked down at the ring on your finger before looking back up at you. “I’m so glad you said yes…” 

You chuckle, wiping your stray tears away with your sweater sleeve “Whaddya think I was gonna say?” 

“I had no doubt you’d say yes. Though I’m not gonna lie… I was kinda worried for a minute there.” 

You grin stupidly, pulling him in for another kiss before pulling back, your foreheads still together. 

His arms kept wrapped around you, one hand on the small of your back, the other gently holding the side of your face. His thumb rubbed gently across your cheek as he looked into your eyes. He’d never felt more in love than he did at this moment, with you in his arms. 

[roguishcat]

What books don't teach you (or how to date a wickedly charming vampire if all you know about dating is purely theoretical)

Summary: Unfortunately, having enough smutty fiction to sink a ship did not prepare you for dating (were you even dating?) Astarion. A shy/inexperienced Reader x Astarion fic where both do everything wrong but somehow end up getting it right. Set in Act II (before Astarion's confession).

Rating: Exlicit (MNDI)

Tags: MNDI, 18+, NSFW, Humour, Romance, Angst, Smut, Smut with feels, Smut with some plot, Oral (Male receiving), Masturbation (female), Vaginal Fingering, Praise kink, They are bad at communicating, Inexperienced Reader, Astarion is bad at feelings

Pairing: Astarion x female Reader (You)

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: It's spring cleaning time, so let's get those WIPs done! 😊 This is my first finished WIP for @thekindredcollective BG3 Spring Cleaning! Should have spent more time on this before posting, but my laptop is acting up again and I want to post the story whilst I can still use it (I hate writing/editing on my phone). Comments and constructive criticism are appreciated. Please tell me if you notice mistakes and typos! Hope you enjoy the story! ❤️❤️

You wanted to put him in your mouth. There. You said it. Well, admitted it to yourself silently in the dead of night whilst completely hidden under the blanket. Which was pretty much the same thing. Sort of.

You and Astarion had already done... it. The horizontal tango, that is. Twice even!

And you were very proud of how cool, smooth and put-together you were during those times. (Astarion immediately saw through your act, of course, but that was beside the point!)

Because no matter how inexperienced you were, you remembered both nights with hot cheeks and gentle warmth blooming to life in your chest every time you thought about the time you spent enjoying each other. Prior to meeting Astarion, you had no idea that bodies and tongues could even be used in such a manner. You read about it, of course. And being a voracious reader, especially when it came to certain literature, you had a general idea of what happened between consenting adults in the bedroom. And forests, beaches, caves, country houses, castle dungeons and so on.

But to actually experience it yourself! No matter how much you let your imagination run wild, to actually have someone, and a very handsome someone at that, outdo anything you imagined had been life-changing. You had a wonderful, toe-curling, lip-biting, earth-shattering, amazing time. And you really, really wanted to reciprocate.

And therein lay the problem.

The one and only time that you dared to go down on someone, you were told quite explicitly that you were completely shit at it. Absolutely talentless. Beyond terrible. And that put you off trying something like this with anyone ever again. Or so you thought.

Because when you looked at Astarion as he lay on top of you, making you tremble and shake with every movement of his hands on your skin, it made you wonder. Wonder how he would taste. You looked at Astarion and ached. Craved to hear him gasp and moan. Watch him unravel from the skill of your tongue and hands. Because surely if others could learn to do that to other person’s orifices then you… could probably manage to be okay at it.

The thought of your late-night musings becoming reality had your cheeks burning in seconds. You sighed and hit your head on the pillow, knowing that it was an awful, terrible idea.

Astarion was experienced, beautiful, and confident. You were not. Whatever it was that made him decide to be with you in the first place would surely be outweighed by the spectacular way you would screw this up.

You sighed again, this time a deep, long sound almost emptied your lungs.

You wondered if you could just ask someone. You were sure that at least one of your companions could give you a pointer or two. But Astarion's pointy ears seemed to catch every bit of juicy gossip, every little whisper. He would know of the full extent of your inadequacy and promptly dump you.

No. You needed to keep your embarrassing secret to yourself.

And then you had a eureka moment. Because you realised that you didn't need to ask anyone at all! What you needed was to get Gale distracted enough for you to steal one of his books. Because you were more than certain that recently Gale had come into possession of a very filthy tome that he quickly squirreled away before anyone could notice. The tome that would be your salvation.

And with this comforting thought finally allowing you to relax, you soon found yourself in the arms of Morpheus, your sleep untroubled and filled with pleasant, if a little racy, dreams.

Astarion was... concerned. Yes, he wasn't worried exactly, though he was slowly edging towards that territory. And why? Well, because their level-headed leader started acting in a manner that one could politely refer to as eccentric.

This group was already full of weirdos, and you were pretty much the only one of the lot that one could call the voice of reason. Except lately you seemed to abandon all reason and instead chose to act like a woman gone mad as you made attempt after attempt to steal something from the wizard.

You were so bad at going about it in a discreet manner that it was almost amusing. Gale did not seem to notice, but Astarion knew that the cleric and the gith did, as did Karlach. He was sure that Shadowheart and Karlach had some kind of bet going on, although he did not care to find out exactly what the terms were.

Initially, he had a fleeting thought that you were trying to get into Gale's tent for amorous reasons. That you decided to take a new lover. Astarion tried not to examine the sick feeling that twisted his gut at the thought of you leaving his bedroll cold to frolic into another person's tent. Because there wasn't any sick feeling in the first place and even if there was, he could quite reasonably blame it on indigestion.

But then he realised that you tried to sneak into Gale's tent only when the wizard was otherwise occupied, usually right about the time he was preparing meals and seemed to be engrossed in whatever he was trying to make edible.

Either way, Astarion was confused, bewildered by why you doggedly chose to pursue something that the wizard had come to possess. Your tenacity and grim persistence would be amusing had it been anyone else that was acting batshit crazy. Alas, it was the one companion that Astarion bet on to stay sane throughout the whole ordeal. And that just wouldn’t do. Not that he cared, per se. But you being predictable would definitely make things easier in the long run. Astarion had a plan, after all, and he was sticking to the said plan no matter what.

A smile curved the elf's lips as you once again failed to infiltrate enemy territory and were forced to retreat rather hastily - and inelegantly - almost smashing into a nearby tree as you made your escape. That didn't go unnoticed by the cleric, who whispered something to Karlach, making the tiefling almost spit her drink out as she tried, and failed, to suppress a laugh.  

It was at that moment that Astarion decided that he would help your poor pitiful self to steal whatever it was that you wanted to get from the wizard's tent. Because it would probably take one or two more failed attempts for Gale to notice, and that would mean that you would abandon your plan, and Astarion would never find out what it was that was worth all this trouble. Not that he cared as such. But it could be some powerful artifact, or a tome filled with nefarious spells. And if he knew what it was, he was almost certain he could convince you to share.

Later that day, as you positioned yourself strategically just outside Gale's tent, Astarion strolled up to the wizard with an air of casual boredom. Gale was busy preparing supper, chopping away at some vegetables and whatever else they managed to scavenge. Astarion snorted his disapproval at the scents emitting from the cooking pot.

"Something on your mind?" Gale chose that moment to speak up.

"Hm? Oh, no. Pay no attention to me whatsoever. I'm just pondering a dilemma of mine, and I am afraid I might not come up with an answer."

"I see, well, may I be of assistance?"

Inclining his head ever so slightly, Astarion could see you slink towards the open flap of Gale's tent, taking a step back to be swallowed up by the darkness.

Astarion smirked.

“I am not certain that you can, wizard. You see, this issue of mine would need a mind that is truly voracious. A certain someone that can unravel the unravellable. Solve the unsolvable.”

“And are you insinuating that I am lacking in this department?”

“Oh, no! I would never insinuate anything.”

Astarion heard something crash, the sound followed by a serious of muffled curses and something that that to a keen ear would seem like you fell over and were now struggling to extricate yourself from something or another. This level of clumsiness was so you that Astarion felt something akin to fondness.

Gale was about to turn his head when Astarion said, “I would not insinuate anything that I could state outright.”

That did it. Because Gale could take needling and teasing when it came to anything except his intellectual prowess.

“I’ll have you know that back at Blackstaff Academy I was often consulted on all matters of things! And often my council was the only one worth listening to! Now, tell me exactly what is troubling you. I am more than certain that I will solve whatever issue this is.”

Astarion saw you emerge with something hidden under your shirt. He didn't know why you bothered, it was more than obvious that it was a book of some sort. Though perhaps you were hoping to conceal the cover. Astarion's nostrils flared.

You were excited, embarrassed and a little aroused. An interesting combination to have to some light reading. 

“Astarion? Are you listening?”

Ah, the wizard was still talking. How he loved listening to the sound of his own voice! Honestly, some could really benefit from working on their people skills.

“You know, perhaps being in the presence of such intelligence was enough. I just thought of what to do. No advice needed.”

Gale blinked.

“I see. I’m glad that you are no longer troubled.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. We are all a little troubled around here. Anyway, must dash.”

And with that Astarion was gone in a flurry of silk and smiles that didn’t reach his eyes. Making his way out of camp, he pursued his target with predatory skill. It wasn’t like you were making it difficult to find you. A broken branch here, a piece of fabric snagged on a twig there. Astarion soon found himself on the riverbank, you not noticing his approach as you were deeply engrossed in your reading.     

"Hm.. Where is the part about.. Aha! Here we go. 'His throbbing member brushed against her skirts'. No, I must have skipped too far ahead."

Astarion bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. This is what you were after all this time? Stealing a dirty, scandalous novel? Surely he provided you with enough entertainment for you not to require that type of books? Who knew you were such a deviant underneath that prim and proper facade? How absolutely wonderful.

"Yes! Finally! 'She took him into her shaking hands and pressed a gentle kiss to his pulsing shaft, her eyes asking the question her lips could not form.'"

Your eyes shone with a victorious if somewhat maniacal glint, there was a leaf in your hair, teeth worrying your bottom lip as you read the next passage with feverish intensity. 

Perhaps it was time to make himself known. Astarion stepped on a tree branch, putting some force into it to make it snap. 

You squeaked and whipped your head around to look at him, eyes comically round and large, cheeks flushed and rosy. And it was at this moment that you lost your grip on the book, making it slip out of your fingers. You tried grabbing it but it was too late. Whatever escapades the Duke and the debutante got up to were lost to you, swallowed up hungrily by the river. 

"Well, I suppose now we will never know if he sheathed his sword to the hilt. Though perhaps it was more of a dagger?"

Astarion did not expect a pathetic little sob to be your reply.

"Darling?"

He crouched beside you, thumb wiping a stray tear that rolled down your cheek.

"It was supposed to be a surprise for you," you whispered, making a point not to look at him.

"Dearest, this is not the first novel of that sort that I've read and I am sure that it won't be the last."

"No- I- I wasn't talking about the book. I was trying to use it as a guide, of sorts."

"Well, I'm not sure if taking one too many bumps to your lovely head affected your memory, but we've already had sex. Twice, in fact."

"Yes,” you wiped your face with a swift, jerky movement, “but I wanted to do something. And I wanted to do it well."

Astarion chuckled as he realised what you were talking about. He had his suspicions when he had his wicked way with you, seeing the way you'd eye that particular part of his anatomy before quickly looking away. The elf lowered himself gracefully onto the ground and sat beside you, pulling you towards himself and letting your head rest on his shoulder.

"You've never-"

"Once. It wasn’t good. I mean I-I wasn’t very good," you admitted with a wince.

Astarion knew that he had to tread very, very carefully. It was glaringly obvious that you were inexperienced when it came to sex, even if you tried to act confident when you slept together. When he had stepped out from behind the tree the night when he bedded you for the first time, you walked towards him like a newborn doe, legs unsteady, hands shaking, a bright blush on your cheeks. You were excited and nervous in equal measures, and that made him both irritated and intruiged.

Therefore, Astarion chose not to tease you but took a deep breath, swallowed whatever witty comment was on his tongue, and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on your temple.

Bringing his lips to your ear, Astarion spoke in a low tone, "Darling, make of it what you will, but a student is only as good as their teacher."

Hearing your heartbeat speed up, Astarion smirked. You turned so you were looking straight at him.

Fingers clasping your chin, he pulled you up enough to brush cool lips against your own, tongue flicking out to wet soft flesh.

"Would you like me to teach you?”

“Yes.”

“Then be a good girl for me and follow my instructions.”

Having spotted a rock with a deep indent that would allow one to take a seat somewhat comfortably, Astarion rose and moved towards it, motioning you to follow.

“On your knees, my sweet,” he purred, undoing the laces of his trousers as he took his place. Looking up, Astarion’s eyes widened as he found that you were completely bare from the waist up, your exposed breasts level with his crotch.

"Feeling a little warm?" He cleared his throat.

"No. This is plan B."

"I need you to explain your thinking there."

"Well, if you don’t enjoy my mouth, these might come in handy."

After all, you've read enough fiction over the years to know how one can make use of this particular part of your anatomy.

"You mean-"

"Yes."

"I see."

Astarion felt himself grow harder still and willed his rebellious cock to cool it. He was supposed to be the one doing the seducing. Not the one who was most certainly a virgin mere weeks ago. Except suddenly you seemed to turn the tables on him and he, the suave and experienced rogue that bedded thousands, wanted you to touch him. The fact that he did not feel the usual wave of self-loathing and disgust was odd yet very welcome.

Your hands brushed against the skin of his thighs, so warm and gentle. So unlike the touch he was used to. Astarion looked into your eyes and felt himself relax at seeing the genuine excitement you were trying to be less obvious about.

It was sweet. You were sweet. You wouldn’t hurt him, or force him, of belittle him. And knowing with the utmost certainty that you'd stop if he asked you to made Astarion put his hand on top of yours. His cool hand gripping yours gently, Astarion delighted in the way you swallowed nervously when he slowly guided your hands up.

"Start gently. No teeth."

"Wasn’t going to use them."

"Don't try to take it all in at once."

"Don’t think I can anyway."

"And darling?" Astarion said, noticing the intense resolve on your face. "Please don't overthink this."

"Okay," you nodded.

And then you put your tongue on him and licked a long, wet trail, giving the tip an experimental suck. Astarion's brain promptly short-circuited. The second suck was a touch more insistent, Astarion making a strangled sound that was most definitely not a whine. Emboldened by his reactions, you took more of him in, moving your mouth up and down the shaft, trying to establish a pace.

Astarion's eyes slammed shut and he bit his bottom lip. He had forgotten how good this could feel. Hells, he could not for the (un)life of him remember the last time someone offered to pleasure him in such a way. His experiences of sex, at least from what he could remember, were all about giving at best. At worst? Well...

Astarion scowled, willing himself to stay in the present, focusing on the licks and sucks, and your hand stroking the base. The sensitive head pulsed from the attention. Astarion groaned when he felt your fingers wrap around the base, stroking back and forth along the section where your mouth couldn’t reach. His eyes rolled upwards, his hips moving involuntarily to meet your mouth.

And then his dick hit the back of your throat, making you gag. It was then that Astarion remembered that he was meant to be instructing and you, in your eagerness, had to be guided enough not to hurt yourself. Perhaps your attention had to be otherwise occupied.

"Darling," Astarion purred, pushing you back gently, making his cock slide out of your mouth with a wet sound. "There is something else I'd like you to do for me."

"Sure, I'd do anything to you."

"You mean for me?"

You shrugged, making him bark a surprised laugh. Oh, you were fun! Perhaps not always on purpose, but still. Much more fun than most, at least in his experience.

"I'd like you to take the rest of your clothes off and touch yourself."

At your dubious look, he leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'd enjoy seeing you pleasure yourself whilst you pleasure me."

"Um..."

"Good girl."

You obeyed, undoing the ties with shaking fingers and taking your clothes off, nervous yet giddy with excitement. Looking up, you saw Astarion watching you intently, a lazy half smile on his face.

He thought he was all that, did he? Well, you read enough naughty novels that you purchased from Sharess' - hood on, not making eye contact and trying to get out there as fast as possible - to have plenty of theoretical knowledge about how these things got done! And sure, perhaps you didn’t have lovers before Astarion. But you had years to explore your body well enough to know what got you going.

Astarion watched as you placed your hand on your breast and then trailed your fingers down, the descent slow and teasing. As a rule, Astarion didn’t enjoy seeing others pleasure themselves. He enjoyed feeling what little power he had over people, enjoyed how they would grovel and writhe just so he'd grant them a moment of bliss, enjoyed seeing them say and do whatever it was that he wanted because please, please, please.

Sex was a tool. Sex was a weapon. Sex was a way to get what he wanted. And he would damn well use all the tricks in his arsenal to have you where he wanted you.

Except a peculiar thing happened. He actually wanted you. Which was becoming more apparent by the second as your fingers pushed your underwear aside to bare yourself enough for Astarion to be getting quite a show.

He could see, smell and all but taste the way your body reacted to touch and to being watched. It made his fangs itch. And then you threw your head back, baring your neck ever so deliciously as you let out a wanton moan. His body jerked towards you, and it took all his willpower not to sink his teeth into inviting flesh.

No, he'd always ask before biting.

"Darling, may I?" Astarion said in a guttural voice he barely recognised.

Your 'yes' came out as an almost plosive sound that was half breathed and half forced out. He sighed appreciatively, so close to getting what he craved. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he put his hands on your shoulders and leaned in, nose trailing along your neck, tongue lapping at the twin marks that would most definitely become permanent. The thought had his hips thrusting forward, cock hard and leaking.

Not wasting another moment, Astarion sank his fangs into your neck, pulling you towards him. He could feel your approaching orgasm, taste your pleasure, making it his own.

"Astarion," you whispered, eyes fluttering shut, the hand not working you into a frensy rising to brush back soft curls. Your feather-light touch on his ears made him groan as he drank, a trail of blood escaping and trickling down between your bodies.

"Astarion I-" the rest was swallowed by his mouth as he crashed his lips against yours. You could taste your blood and then felt his fingers join yours before dipping into you and-oh.

Strong, and sure, and experienced, his fingers had you panting and gasping into his mouth. He moved and you tried to grind against him, but steady hands kept you in place. Your orgasm hit you hard, Astarion not relenting as you rode his fingers.

You two broke apart and Astarion grinned. Yes, judging by your glazed eyes and swollen lips, his plan was working as brilliantly as he hoped.

"Was this fun, my sweet?" He let your head fall onto his shoulder, watching your chest rise and fall as your breath escaped you in wheezing puffs.

"Very," you nodded and licked your lips, trying to steady yourself. "And now it's your turn."

Astarion blinked.

"Mine?"

"Yes. I mean, unless you didn’t like it."

Astarion found that for the first time in his life he was unsure what to say. Because he didn’t actually expect you to continue. Because he was absolutely certain that you just wanted to play with his cock for a while before chasing your own release.

"I did like it," he admitted, looking away in a manner that could be described as uncharacteristically shy, "but you don't have to-"

"I want to," you interrupted. "I wanted to for a long time. If you allow it, that is," you murmured into the elf’s ear, sending a delicious shudder through him.

Your earnest expression had Astarion considering it. That and the fact your parted, moist lips looked wickedly inviting. You wrapped your fingers around his cock, applying gentle pressure as you gave it a few slow teasing strokes.

"You up for it, lover?" You teased.

"Hah! That’s terrible. Don’t do puns, dear.”

“Because you’d much rather I do you?”

“You know that terrible jokes account for one in two murders?”

“Is that a real statistic?”

“It might as well be.”

Looking at you, Astarion felt a wave of something that another, better emotionally equipped being, would call fondness. And then he felt a wave of something that he recognised all too well. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the way your hand moved over his hardness. And then he felt warm heat of your mouth and your appreciative sigh as you were finally given free rein, getting to do whatever you wanted to him as Astarion submitted to your ministrations.  

He knew that he wouldn’t last long. Not with your blood coursing through him and the warmth from your mouth seeping into his flesh and electrifying his nerves. He tried not to arch his back, seeking more friction, more of you, just more of it all. Because- hells!

You chose that moment to palm his balls, rolling them teasingly as Astarion fought with himself not to thrust and roll his hips. His breath caught in his throat and he released a needy, half-chocked sound as you slowed to trace a lazy path up the spit-sleeked hardness, sending already sensitive nerves into overdrive.

“Darling, I won’t last long,” Astarion whimpered.

Your hum of appreciation just about sent him over the edge.

And then you went faster, as if getting greedier by the minute. Astarion’s words came out as whimpering pleas that did not make sense to his own ears. He gasped and whimpered as his pleasure built.

Whimpers turned into groans and those turned into silence as his mouth opened, deadly fangs flashing,  as your other hand ventured further to find that spot and pressed into it with each movement. His orgasm swelled and broke, Astarion not even having the chance to ask where you’d want him to cum. You tried to swallow, but were rather unprepared, almost chocking then pulling back enough to let what you couldn’t manage trail down your hand and his body.

Astarion took greedy gulps of air that he didn’t need, eyes still closed, feeling boneless and lazy, and not wanting to move. He could feel you shift and next you started wiping him clean with a soft cloth, movements slow and careful. This wasn’t the first time you cared for him in such a way, but he still didn’t expect you to want to do something like that, not really sure how to react. And so Astarion chose to just stay silent and enjoy it while it lasted. Because for one reason or another, he was certain that whatever this was would not last.

“Did- Did I do well?”

He chuckled, “Isn’t it obvious? Or perhaps you’d like me to sing praises and commend you on your skill like they would in those novels you like, hm?”

One ruby eye cracked open and Astarion gave you a slow, languid smile.

“If you were in my novel, you’d definitely be more gallant,” you huffed.

“Apologies. I’ll try better next time.”

“Next time? You mean I get to do it again?”

“Can’t imagine why you are the one excited about it, but yes. You get to do it again.”

Your victorious, brilliant smile had him looking away, the tips of his ears tinged pink. He felt conflicted about the attention, confused as to why you’d feel so obviously happy at him being satisfied.

Astarion did not like not being able to figure people out. Not being able to predict what one would do, not knowing what came next had the elf stiffening involuntarily.

Red eyes watched you intently as you put your smallclothes on. The vampire was eerily still as you stumbled about, suddenly bashful and trying to cover yourself up as quickly as possible as you threw furtive looks in his direction. Then he took a breath, as if suddenly remembering that some would deem it a necessity and willed his body to obey him. Lips curving, a smile plastered on his face, Astarion rose in a smooth, elegant movement, still completely bare and seemingly not bothered by being nude out in the open.

A finger under your chin, he turned your head and pecked your lips.

“Thank you, darling. I had a simply marvellous time. How good of you to treat me so.”

His words didn’t have the desired effect. Instead of melting into a pile of feminine goo, as one should have done when being in the proximity of a gorgeous creature, you frowned and nodded.

“Yes. I’m glad. But I think I have to go.”

“Really? Have to?”

“No. I want to go.”

Astarion let his hand drop and watched you retreat with surprising haste, confused about what had just happened. It felt as if he had crossed some unspoken line, but he was unsure when and where he did so. Astarion dressed quickly, with jerky movements, tugging his shirt on angrily. Anger came naturally. Anger was easier. He did not know who he was angry at – you or himself – but somehow it made him feel better. Taking a different path to the one you chose to make your retreat, Astarion ran. Hunting something down and tearing into its throat with his fangs. Watching it thrust about as he bled it dry. He needed to at least sate his hunger if he couldn’t settle his mind.

Evening came and went with neither you nor Astarion uttering a word to each other. The next day was much the same. You communicated through others, but never directly.

On day six, you approached Astarion. He was reading, casually reclining against a tree, the wind playing with his curls and making them dance so beautifully that you almost missed a step and had to quickly catch yourself. Falling forward and kissing the ground would definitely put you in a state not conducive to having any conversation at all.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to just go for it. There was very little you could do to make the situation worse.

"I'm sorry," you blurted out.

"Beg pardon?" Astarion looked up with a cold expression on his handsome face.

Not a good start, but you decided to soldier on.

"I want to apologise."

"Do you know what you are apologising for?" Astarion closed his book and set it aside without breaking eye contact.

"I'm not sure exactly. I don't know what I did that day by the river, to make you look at me with such disgust-"

Astarion made a noise at the back of his throat which could be interpreted in many ways, and you took it as confirmation of your worst fears.

"And I don't know how to fix it! And maybe a simple apology isn't enough, but I couldn’t come up with anything better."

You had thought of how this conversation could go at length, tossing and turning late into the night. You had hoped to sound less pathetic, less needy. But perhaps being honest was the best way to go about it.

"I envy your easy confidence, you know. I never had that. Not once in my life. And it's not about my looks. I just don’t feel like I have the guts to talk about my wants. And I've never felt that I even wanted to… until you. And I'm not asking you to understand or to accept it. But I can't bear you to look at me that way again, like you can't wait to get away from me. So, I want to apologise. But I need you to tell me what happened,” you swallowed nervously, “please."

There was an awkward pause, a moment where Astarion didn't know what to do, what to say when faced with such sincerity and raw emotion. How would he even begin to explain what happened when he had spent centuries trying to avoid thinking about it for his personal sanity?

"I can't,” he began carefully, brows furrowed, fingers twitching. “At least I'm not sure if I can. But,” he paused, word coming out breath-heavy, “that, whatever that was, had nothing to do with you."

"Oh.” You looked away, whatever courage you summoned earlier used up at this point. “I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."

Astarion rose in one swift movement. You were a breath away from each other, and yet not touching.

"I meant what I said that day. I did enjoy it. Being with you feels... like something else. Something new."

Untarnished, unspoilt.

"But it did bring up some less than pleasant memories."

"I'm sorry."

"Will you stop apologising, infuriating woman?" Astarion demanded sharply.

"I'm so-"

Astarion knew only one effective way of silencing you, so he pressed his lips firmly against yours, one hand finding itself in your hair, the other on the swell of your hip. You felt a tingle dance up your spine when Astarion coaxed your lips to open, his tongue slipping in to tangle with yours. You moaned into the kiss, the tension and worries of the past six days melting away until you felt like you were floating.

Remembering that you did, in fact, need to breathe, Astarion broke the kiss.

"No more apologies," Astarion admonished you gently. "Especially when you've done nothing wrong."

You nodded silently and quiet enveloped you both, Astarion looking at you with warm intensity as you ran your fingers through his soft, silver curls.

"And now, my dear," Astarion decided to finally ask you the question that has been on his mind for the past six days, "I believe we are overdue for a discussion of a different type. Because I simply can't go on another moment without knowing where you leaned of plan B."

And this was when you told Astarion about your most prized possession - the library in the basement of your home with enough tomes to sink a ship. Astarion had never been more eager to get back to the Gate.

He simply had to survive long enough to see this. And then have you read to him from each one. Preferably naked.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9, @hellethil,

@nyx-knox, @vividiana, @khywren,

@maeryls-journal

[disco-cola]

i'm so gonna rant about luigi now but something that has been on my mind for the past few days ever since reading the response letter (def his handwriting so i have no doubt) recently that the receiver has published - and whereas i know he should be granted at least SOME privacy and not every response letter has to be published, i think he himself is aware that this COULD happen when he chooses to respond, and in this case he might have counted on it - when he wrote how hard the solitary confinement was and worded it that he was "picked up at mcdonalds for the heinous crime of ordering a hashbrown." it really had me take a step back and re-evaluate the whole situation. like for one yeah i get it. i've been following the case since hour 0 as well, loved all the memes and tiktoks that came out between december 4 and december 9 of people completely denying their help to authorities and coming together even BEFORE he was arrested as a suspect cause even though i am not american i know about the fucked up healthcare system so i understood the reactions and supported it wholeheartedly. and when i first saw that mugshot i was also on my knees and yeah the looks and specificially the - alleged! - motivations to do something like this definitely played together and also had me thirsting over someone who usually wouldnt be in my realm of interest. but seriously what if it REALLY wasnt him and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time? he pleaded not guilty to the charges on december 23. i see why people have doubts about the arrest situation in altoona, pa and think evidence like the "manifesto" and even the gun could have been planted because authorities were under pressure after 5 days of not catching anyone. would my support stop? his disappearance and what he posted on social media like goodreads has totally backfired on him. but like just for my tumblr and instagram posts alone even *I* could be framed in a situation like that and i would have "motives." how horrifying must this entire ordeal be if you're accused and pre-convicted by several politicians and mainstream media and even some of your own supporters by always linking you to the crime and calling you the "patron saint of healthcare" and things like that. like HOW is he supposed to get a fair trial for which the main basis would be the presumption of innocence if even some supporters cant stop linking him to the crime and have made him into the poster boy for vigilante justice?

i get why memes and thirst traps are popular because i also have eyes and see, no matter if he did it or not, that he's conventionally attractive and some really ARE funny but at this point i cant laugh about many others at all anymore because it goes to show some people are so superficial and turn a real life person into a fictional character. like he's part of some viral netflix crime show you can just tune into when it's convenient. but like that man's day still has 24 hours even when he's not being photographed and going viral on social media and he's spending all of them incarcerated in awful conditions at the rathole that is MDC brooklyn for something he might not have even done. like i can only begin to imagine being in that situation and fearing i may never get out of there or get even unalived by the government and it gives me a panic attack just trying to imagine.

anyway what i wanna say is there (sadly) wont be jury nullification on the basis of "justified murder" cause brian thompson was a greedy corporate asshole who made millions as the CEO of a company that denied claims of the suffering and sick, the toxic system we are trapped in only plays in favor of criminals like donald trump who protect the fellow rich, BUT there might be the possibility of jury nullification on the basis of expressing and providing the reasons for REASONABLE DOUBT that he never was the shooter to begin with. and thats my point. if you wanna see luigi go free, give him the benefit of the doubt. YES the U.S. healthcare system is fucked up and we need to keep talking about that. but if you actually wanna see luigi go free start to separate the two topics and stop to inevitably link him to healthcare and in result the crime and start to point out his right to the presumption of innocence for the upcoming trials, federal and state alike. they WILL drag these out IMMENSELY. dont lose focus. and thats all i have to say about that.

[nathaaaan]

I just realized something. We know that Marcy’s one of if not the smartest character in Amphibia. She gets straight A’s without even trying, learns about other cultures because she got BORED and was interested in them, learned the basics of alchemy before she even met Maddie, studied amphibian biology, could hack into moderately secure areas like the PA system at SJMS, and beat the King of Amphibia in a game that she JUST figured out how to play after a while of living in the castle. Marcy’s gift of intelligence is an understatement. I mean, she easily could’ve skipped a couple grades and graduate early, but she didn’t. And that’s because of two people. Anne and Sasha! They… for a lack of better wording, they were holding her back. Marcy was so obsessed with the two of them, she genuinely can’t imagine a life without them in it, even when they constantly ignore and neglect her needs. Heck, I’m sure her parents even tried convincing her to move up a grade, but at the end of the day, Marcy would have the final say and she’d say no because she wanted to be with her BFFs. Which is awful in itself because nobody should sacrifice the possibility of great things happening to them for someone else! I’m fucking sure Marcy could’ve absolutely obliterated the World Record for youngest college grad if she really wanted to.

Marcy must be really gay if she’s willing to go that far for Anne and Sasha.

[emmg]

wiiiip not Wednesday lol

tagged by @heylittleriotactand tagging fellow babes in turns hehehhehee @aldisobey @jainydoe @caffeinatedmunchkin @thepalehorsevictoria @excited-hiss

I have bits and pieces written here and there, but nothing solid except for that one passage where Emmrich googles the definition of sugar daddy, texts Rook to ask if that’s what he is, gets a lolwut in response, and then has to google that too because he doesn’t understand youthful slang lmao.

So instead, here’s something from Herbarium that I’m working on, because I am absolutely, furiously, seething over the fact that Veilguard didn’t even give us the bare minimum of a chance to call Emmrich out on how utterly insane lichdom is in the context of a romance. Nope, all we get is the option to deliver a thumbs up, like great job, buddy, enjoy your undeath, let's boink! Yet, somehow, the concept that you can love someone without blindly supporting their worst decisions is just... nonexistent? Our Rooks should have had the option to say, I love you, I will support you, and I will help you chase your dream, but I can’t stay by your side if you go through with this. Even if I love you more than anything. But no, apparently nuance is too much to ask for. Anyway.

****

"I'm sorry. Deeply, terribly sorry," he whispers, his arms encircling her waist, his face pressed against the rise of her ribs. "I love you; entirely, inexorably. You need not return it in full, only in the measure you can bear. But you are my last, Rook, my very last, and I cannot begin to imagine what I would do if you did not return. I love you as I am, and I will love you in lichdom, and I will be able—" 

Above him, a sigh. Her fingers move through his hair in uneven strokes.  

She sounds depleted when she speaks, and then he remembers—she is. The hollows beneath her eyes have grown pronounced, the skin bruised with fatigue. Her hair, dull and lank, clings to its unwashed roots. 

"Please stop talking about it," she says, neither entreating nor reproachful. There is no sharpness left in her, no irony, no venom. Just a voice stripped of its essence. "I will support you, no matter what. You know that." 

"Support is not the same as acceptance. To bear something is not to embrace it." 

Her fingers continue their indifferent sweep. "No," she murmurs. "It isn’t." Another breath. "Can we sleep now, Emmrich? Don’t you want to sleep? I’m cold, and I want to sleep. And I want to hold you." 

He loved them, he told them, all those figures trailing behind him, the blurred procession of his past. Some answered with a nod, a perfunctory thank you. Others only blinked, uncomprehending. A few, after a pause, offered a measured well, then. Fewer still returned it, though never for long.

Rook says it differently. Quieter. She presses it to his cheek, light as the slip of paper one tucks away without reading, its corners already worn, its message already known. Groggily, she moves, sliding beneath the covers, lifting them just enough for him to follow. She is not sentimental—that, precisely, is why her I love you, spoken without tremor or weight, drained of inflection, is the only one that lingers, the only one that resists erosion. 

Suddenly, he feels as if he has forgotten all those that came before; their voices die out, sinking into the same nothing that swallowed old promises, childhood prayers, the smell of rooms he will never step into again. He strains to recall them, but there is nothing left to grasp. Only hers remains, colorless and bland, like the last light left burning in an empty house. 

Love is acceptance. Love is support. But they do not always converge. This is what rattles him, what makes him press his face into her shoulder, trying to quiet the lurking dread. 

Oh, she will support him. She will watch, nodding, shifting her weight from heel to toe, a restless pendulum of feigned ease. She will smile, make some awful quip to puncture the silence, to quell her own unease. She will tell him to go through with it, whatever it may be. She will take his father’s butchering blade, wipe it clean, and place it, without hesitation, into the hands of the one chosen to sever him from life. Then, when he returns—when he steps over the threshold, no longer a man but a thing made of magic and will—she will greet him, kiss the bare curve of his skull, wish him a good eternity, and walk away.

Because Rook has never struggled to seek out what she likes. She will continue. She will find something, someone, to cherish, and to cherish her in turn. She will support him, yes. But she will not accept. 

He wants to seize her hands, press them between his own, feel the warmth of them before it is too late. He wants to shake her, to shake sense into her—or out of her—until she understands, until she sees what he sees. Why, why, why can she not grasp that this is the better course? She would not have to lead the charge, would not have to stand where death is swiftest. He would take that place, step into the fire, let the blade that might have cut her down pass through him like wind through a hollow. What harm could it do? He would be beyond harm. A creature of eternity, of patience, of limitless devotion, the power of the Necropolis at his back.

He would not sleep. Would not tire. Would not falter. He would guard the tombs, guard her, keep vigil over the living and the dead alike. He would serve Nevarra, and he would serve her, and in time, oh, in time, perhaps he would find something—a loophole, a secret, some arcane twist of fate to keep her from slipping away, to keep them both here, tethered, together. 

No one would have to cross that final, irreversible threshold. No one would have to see what lies beyond—whether it is the blank serenity of the Maker’s realm or a silence so absolute it swallows even the thought of regret. 

Please, please, please, he wants to say, pressing his forehead to her shoulder, his breath wasted against the fabric there. Let me love you like this. Let me stay. Let me make it so you never have to leave.

She would not even have to look at him, if the sight of what he became repulsed her. He would spare her that, too. He would wear a veil, an illusion, his old face, preserved like a saint’s death mask, a perfect glamour.  

Nothing would have to rot. Nothing would have to change. Nothing at all. 

[sfmothdaddy]

Ghoap exchange!

Hello there friends, I had a lot of fun working on this little fluffy drabble... that sort of took on a life of its own. This gift is for @mortem-writes ! They had asked for something with freckle reverence. so please, enjoy (I did not beta this at all, honestly it kept getting longer and longer and work had me pulling doubles and 12hr shifts and... well, I decided to be an over achiever I suppose... *ahem* there is art.... but below the cut. Freckles Paring: Ghoap Rating: M Words:2025

Johnny was lounging back on the bed as Simon was in the shower. They had been together a while now, though what they had was so much softer than their work. Spending time together, cuddles, fumbles in the dark.. In all honesty, it felt a little like school age years all over again. 'Sept of course this time he was a grown man and so was his surprisingly shy partner. Ghost was forward and blunt about many things, but physical intimacy was not something that he had a lot of experience in, as well as relationships in general.

Like the word Boyfriend, it felt too juvenile for what they had and so Johnny just never used it. There was a strange almost unspoken rule that neither of them would use that word. Instead they opted for "mine" or "partner" as a much more... grown up version of the term. Something that Simon seemed to enjoy.

It had taken a while for Simon to open up to Johnny about some of the things he had survived, the things he had gone through... but even before he had ever spoken a word about it Johnny had told him that they would take whatever they wanted to call this at Simon's pace. Some of the things that he had learned made Soap want to commit murder, but Simon had assured him that there was no need for him to feel that way. If he happened to pop round Price's office to confirm that later was his business.

From the bits Simon had gifted him of his past, Johnny had learned that the lad had the bare minimum (if that) experience when it came to romance of any kind. Thus making it Johnny's personal mission to shower the man with as much romance as he had the opportunity to do so. Hence why he was sitting on the bed and waiting for the man himself to exit the bathroom so he could ask him how his little solo mission went. Currently Johnny was focused on the little sketch book in his hands, once more sketching the facade of a skull over a baklava.

So intensely he was focused on his art, that he had barely noticed when Simon had stepped up beside him, towel wrapped around his waist and another drying his hair. "What are you working on?" That manc accent he had become so accustomed to jolted him from his shading.

"Oh jus' some-" The words died in his throat as his eyes zeroed in on just how much skin Simon had exposed, though to be fair his eyes never left the man's chest. Most of their time together in close quarters was in the dark, neither one of them feeling up to turning on lights when they both were accustomed navigating the dark. However, now, there was so much skin on display it was like a feast for his eyes. The scars that dotted Simon's skin were a testament to the horrors he survived, the tattoos that speckled around giving vivid splashes to the pale flesh, but what really got him were the freckles. The man was littered with them, like a veritable milky way of adorable little spots across his skin.

"...Johnny?" There was a bit of something in Simon's tone that had the man quickly looking up and into those dazzling brown eyes Johnny liked so much.

"Ye- fucking bonnie bastard." There was awe in his tone as he carelessly tossed his little sketchbook onto the floor and stood to bring himself closer to the man in front of him. Simon blinked, clearly confused, the towel he had been drying his hair with limply falling to his side. "Ye dinnae tell me ye had spots! Ye see me drawin ye all the time! I'd imagined, I suppose, but... yer fucking breathtaking, ye ken?" His words ghosted over the man's skin and he could see gooseflesh appear on the mans arms. "Steaming Jesus, Simon ye have no idea what ye do to me...." Blue eyes traced across the skin of Simon's slightly crooked nose and down to his chest, all the wile noting freckle after countless freckle.

"Are you freaking out over... my freckles? All I did was spend too much time in the sun-" "Donnae do tha, no. Ye are bonnie, and braw and ye will take the compliment ye bawbag. Me mam used tae say tha freckles were angel kisses." Simon scoffed, but he seemed to relax a little. "Come on, let me look at ye a little more, no every day ye let me see this much skin all at once." "Maybe, you could return the favor?" Simon's eye brow raised as he turned and grabbed a pair of boxers and slid them on under the towel before running the towel once more across his chest and catching the few water drops that he had missed and sitting on the opposite side of the bed than Johnny had been sitting on.

Johnny thought his brain had rebooted there for a moment as he spotted the freckles across the mans back, he could not wait to pull out a fresh sketchbook later... "oh now ye've done it...."

[hashtagarting]

I had a idea for your dragon au, dragons unconsciously mark their horde with their craft so they can find it if they lose it and know its condition, it also slows things like rusting degrading and aging for both objects and living creatures.

Ohhh that's very fun. Especially considering that dragons are long-lived creatures in the first place! Don't want to lose your hoard if you can help it! "Knowing its condition" also ties well into being particularly sensitive to how they're feeling and whether or not they're doing well, which is something that my friend and I already had in mind for if a fixation is bordering on getting more intense than it should.

The fact that this is subconscious too is very fun because imagine everyone very slowly coming to the realization that. Hold on. We're not aging as we should.

Either slowly on their own like that, or it could be a very sudden realization if they find a book that mentions it.

Actually wait I like the thought of somewhere in between, where they find a book that mentions this craft-marking and its effects, but doesn't specify whether or not that applies to living creatures too. So it's something they're aware might be a thing and have to deal with the slowly encroaching evidence that, yes, it does apply to them as well.

Alternatively odile has already been having suspicions at this point (especially if this is affecting BONNIE - oh gosh hold on let me finish this paragraph first) and the book confirms her suspicions, and she has to break the news to everyone else that this has already been affecting them, and will probably continue to do so.

OKAY. BONNIE. OH GOSH.

Bonnie is a kid, a preteen, either currently going through puberty or about to. They're the one in the group that would be changing the fastest due to aging, so they're the one that would first be noticeable in terms of those changes slowing. I imagine the rate of slowing matches siffrin's - they wouldn't live as long as a full dragon, but their life has definitely been extended to some degree. I'm not sure by how much, but my first thought is two to three times as long as they would have otherwise. Couple hundred years. So that's two to three times as long for bonnie, too.

Bonnie would NOT be a fan. They already don't like being treated like a kid, and now they have to be one for LONGER??? TWO TO THREE TIMES AS LONG???? They're gonna be like 25 years old and still be 16. How does age of majority work when your aging has slowed?

Once they're not a kid anymore tho they're chill. Frin wanted to stay with them so bad they made sure they'd stay alive with them! Aw!

. . . They're a bit less chill once they start living longer than all their friends but that's something all of them have to deal with, including siffrin himself (presuming he DOES eventually find friends other than his family throughout his life). Things get a little more complicated with pétronille too but this post is already long enough so that can be explored later.

. . .

If Loop, full blown dragon, also starts fixating on them again, then things slow way more, considering how long a full blown dragon lives. F in the chat for bonnie. Hopefully they don't get stuck in puberty for hundreds of years.

[misakiisstupid]

Oh, Cass, it’s definitely a good idea. Let me tell you why!

You’ll find your own community. Tumblr has so many people who are just like you. From people who love martial arts to fans who admire your quiet strength and badassery, you’re going to connect with so many like-minded folks.

**Your meme game will be next-level. Imagine sharing all your silent but deadly moves in meme form. You can be the one to break the internet with your pure, unfiltered aesthetic. No words needed—just pure Cass Cain energy.

You can share your thoughts without saying a word. You’re good with action, Cass, but sometimes, it’s nice to have an outlet for your thoughts. Tumblr lets you share what’s going on in your mind in any form you want—text, gifs, pictures—no pressure. And sometimes, silence speaks louder than words.

**Fan art is gonna blow your mind. People are going to draw you. Like, a lot. They’ll capture your elegance, your strength, and your quiet beauty in a way that’s going to make you feel like the superhero you are. Prepare for your inbox to explode with fan creations.

You’ll have an outlet for your emotions. If you ever need to vent, Tumblr is full of people who understand. Whether you’ve had a rough day or just need to express how you’re feeling, there’s always a community here that will listen and support you.

You can keep an eye on your Batfamily. The Batfamily can be a bit… chaotic, but on Tumblr, you’ll have a front-row seat to what everyone’s up to. You’ll catch up on the latest happenings in Gotham and get all the gossip without having to sit through Bruce’s lectures.

You can share your favorite things. You know those moments when you see something you just have to share with someone? Tumblr is the perfect place for that. Post about your favorite books, music, or even those perfect ninja moves you perfected.

You can have a blog about anything. Do you know how many blogs there are about martial arts techniques, hand-to-hand combat, and training tips? You could literally start your own blog and teach people how to fight like you. Be a mentor to the next generation of heroes. I believe in you.

You can laugh at people’s ridiculous opinions. Oh, Cass, there are so many weird opinions out there, and Tumblr is all about embracing and roasting them. You can enjoy the chaos, and it’ll be your little secret. Trust me, it’ll give you endless entertainment.

No one will make you talk unless you want to. If you don’t feel like engaging, that’s totally fine. Tumblr’s all about letting people be themselves. You can observe, interact when you feel like it, or just scroll through posts without saying a word. It’s about your pace, your rules.

You can be an anonymous badass. If you ever feel like showing off your ninja moves or sharing some cool action clips, you can do it all anonymously. Be a mystery, leave people in awe, and just let your actions speak louder than your name.

You can write your own story. You’re an incredible fighter and hero, but your story is also one of growth, struggle, and triumph. Tumblr allows you to tell that story, whether through your own words, your art, or whatever you choose. And people will respect that.

You’ll find support when you need it most. We all have our battles, Cass. On Tumblr, you’ll find so many people who understand, offer advice, and give you the support you need to keep pushing forward. You’re never alone here. Trust me on this.

So yeah, joining Tumblr? Definitely a good idea. You’re gonna crush it, just like you always do.

Hi, I'm Cassandra.

Someone recommended me to join this place to socialize more. Maybe it's a good idea hm.

[coldlygoing]

LOVE that tos was like. no they dont figure out how to hide vulcan ears in the future. they just put spock ina cute cosy beanie <33

[vaguely-concerned]

just for fun this time during 'sea of blood' I counted out all the venatori corpses I think we can be pretty sure were lucanis' handiwork before we show up (not including the ones he kills in his initial cutscene, and with an assumption that he's been at work mainly up and down in the areas we move through until we find him, not behind the locked door -- I think that's mostly the work of rampaging undead and other venatori-hoisted-by-their-own-petard suchlikes). can thus happily inform you lucanis has killed at least 32 venatori before rook and company get there. at least one of them he's impaled on their own weird crystal spike things the venatori mages cast as an AOE attack and that they're trying to keep him contained with when we find him. so he's clearly been keeping busy lol. that's my boy dispensing poetic justice and claiming some enrichment in his enclosure while he's at it good for him!

[wassupmygays]

i love you tiny costume details. i love tiny pieces of jewelry or patches that add so much to a character. i love you costume designers that allow for personalization. i love you i love you i love you

[maybequinnidk]

2x18

kara swears counter: and she's in a good mood too

wow j'onn what a way to kill the vibe

LENAAAA 🚨🚨🚨

katie with her hair down <3

"you're my favorite" and you're my favorite what a coincidence

do you think lena feels bad that kara got fired bc she followed her advice?

imagine you're jack and lena luthor is your ex-partner

that's the other reason i disliked him. he interrupted her. and in public too... very professional carr

blue/blue pairing again, different shades this time

she's so enthusiastic

so persuasive winn, so persuasive

i like the mystery of this episode

kara in dark colors

snapper is so done with them. he has a lot of journalistic integrity. admirable, but knowing kara is right makes it hard to see his points

jess, then alana and now hector. what happens to her assistants, where do they go

lena in light colors

exes banter, endearing

i don't dislike jack, he's fine. too bad he dies

"kara, where's your source" "im sorry teacher, jack spheer ate him"

that one tumblr account (lena luthor in a red dress)

"pretty deece" and they dated for 2 years. good for them

they didn't have to kiss

thinking too much about things, crime edition: are there no cameras or security. kara has no gloves (does she have fingerprints?).

plus, what a weak password. where are the capital leters, numbers, symbols? where's the answer of today's worldle? where's the chicken you gotta feed every minute so it doesn't die?

her accent !!!

kara and lena looking good counter: 🔥

kara gives lena devastating news counter: 2 i believe

i love that lyra immediately knows something is up

he hates everyone, it's not personal

ok i like their dynamic working together

lena's plans of doing things on her own after initially disbelieving the information she's been given counter: 2 pennies isn't a lot

"oh my god. you're telling the truth" no cuz wht did i know what she was going to say😭 that part isn't even in any edit/compilation

in that shot you can really see that her eyes are different colors. very slightly

jack is so tall

that's a solid plan

you're the idiot

"did i mentioned i was a luthor" i think i remember something like that (congratulations on not being a luthor anymore)

lena sees someone she has loved dying in front of her counter: can they stop traumatizing her, thanks

lena saves the day (supergirl) counter: 3

supercorp couch talk counter: but make it sad

she's so open and vulnerable

those lines + plus Katie's acting are absolutely heartbreaking. reminds me why i wanted to rewatch this in the first place

i said it once and will say it again: every time i think she's going to kiss her temple and every time she never does 😔 (scam artists made this show istg)

james apologizing 🚨 james being a decent friend 🚨 james being tolerable

"MISS TESSMACHER" counter: either 3 or 4

aw look at them being on good terms

alsored and blue ribbons

yeah no i actually do really like him now

fucking rhea man

rewatching and commenting SG because it's leaving netflix soon, s2

season 1 was satisfying overall, not that frustrating

lots of lena

2x01

why another location? whatever, it's fine. i like the old place too, alex

I 100% believe that kara thought the online quiz would be accurate, just like she thought the dating app in 1x01 would be, bc the algorithm cant possibly be wrong right? bc that's how it was on krypton

"kiera danvers"

eve !!!! i love her so much

"MISS TESSMACHER" counter: 1 (lex stole that from ms grant)

the striped one looked better

i just wanted kara to be a space nerd. is that too much to ask??? "yes", the cw responds

thank god cat and lena weren't there

oh look it's him. so inoffensive

super cousins save the day together counter: 1

new and upgraded title card

in s1 j'onn didn't seem to have beef with clark when they mentioned him that one time

her skirt has pockets. i want it

ok so crushing on kryptonians give badass CEOs prosopagnosia, got it

LENAAAAA 🚨🚨🚨 KATIEEEE

"and who are you exactly?" does she not recognize her gf?

a fic where cat and lena are friends and talk about their crushes on clark and kara to each other and the other is like "you do know that their are a super, right?" and the other is like "pfft nah"

"mr. kent" she says as if she doesn't know who he is. as if he wasn't lex's best friend once upon a time. as if they're complete strangers. but after everything they might as well be

kara's unwavering belief in lena counter: ∞

they should stop talking about super stuff in the middle of a croud

another partnership ruined bc of kryptonite

another batman reference. they said gotham this time. improvements

"i was thinking italian, I could fly there" not gonna say it, not gonna say it. there's four seasons to go still

her dress also has pockets?? amazing

"MISS TESSMACHER" counter: 2

im gonna miss her

"who would want lena luthor dead?" j'onn. my man. who doesn't want her dead? have you met her family? they hate her! and the luthor-haters also hate her

kaznia mentioned

you know what? her face does look different with glasses and her hair up

not them casually talking like they didn't just meet today

alex's fight scenes are so good

lena with a gun counter: 1

Kara's brain turning into mush when lena talks to her. mood

cat is already proud of her protege

she's leaving

"miss tessmacher" counter: 1

she really said "something has changed within me, something is not the same. im through with playing by the rules of someone else's game"

winn rambling is cute

cousin banter. cute too

i wish kal-el had been more present in kara's life for her sake. but for my sake, im glad he is not so present in the show

ugh lillian

[saiainopresai-v3]

im with saihara on this one (which one? take your best guess before checking tags!)