#tag your spoilers you heathens

[cooking-with-hailstones]

Y'all, we've been doing so well with tagging spoilers. Please continue to tag your totk content as such! I've already seen several things over the past few days that I wish had been tagged. It's been less than 2 weeks, please keep tagging!!

[goldenchocobo]

So me and two of my friends have started a Gaming Culture Exchange. It’s where we give one game that means a lot to us, or embodies us as a person for the other two to play. I, of course- picked Kingdom Hearts.

It took a bit of thought to whittle it down, but in the end, I chose to get my friends to play KHII.  Because 1) it’s a fan favourite, 2) It has MUCH better combat and fluidity of controls than KHI, and 3) While yeah- you should play KHII and CoM, you can still glean the story; which is what I wanted them to play for. And if they don't understand anything- I'm here.

We meet up every Saturday night, and they play for 2-3 hours whilst I watch and act as a guide/tip-giver.

I wanted to document their experiences because they’re (mostly) fresh eyes in ‘24. This took so long to do because I kept forgetting to ask their permission to do this. How long? When we devised this, the KH series was announced that it was coming to steam during the VC call. I kind of laughed at the irony.

For now, let me introduce you to my friends! I’m not using any of their real names/what I call them due to identity.

Isopod: She/They: We get along really well and often watch shows together, play games or hang out. They’re more of a slow-paced gamer, liking farming sims and the less action-heavy Minecraft parts, but overall she loves genetic sims/ family tree games (wobbledogs, niece etc…). She’s seen little bits of KH, but doesn’t know a whole bunch. Their game for this exchange is Rainworld.

Dog: He/Him: We’re good friends that can get on each other's nerves and argue over pedantic stuff. He likes grimdark things and was the one who introduced me to Berserk. We, along with Isopod, watched Dungeon Meshi together, and I got him to watch Demon Slayer, which he’s enjoying. He actively dislikes/is uninterested in KH, not liking the style clash. His game for this exchange is Eldenring.

Due to the lag with getting permissions, each new entry will be each day until I've caught up, then every Sunday. Each day will be a reblog of this post with a Keep reading spoiler tag so that it doesn't clutter, but can be read in order.

Now that the stage is set, the journey starts below;

-

The game starts, and we jam out to Sanctuary. Isopod already kind of remembers who Roxas is and why he's here, but Dog doesn't- instead, he comments on the 'Gaming Rig' Roxas has got set up (the weird contraption with the light up star in his room) while Isopod laments that they'll never own a lamp as cool as his fish one.

'oh no, our ___ are gone!' "Your WHAT" -Dog

"I thought my audio glitched for a second" -Isopod

We then have to wait because Dog needed to eat dinner because his timing with that is impeccable, let me tell you. This let Isopod explore a bit and examine Roxas' outfit- which she concludes is a 'disaster'(lovingly).

It's then noted that Isopod is playing with Keyboard and mouse, and I m horrified. Dog is playing with an X-box controller and I lovingly refer to him as a heathen.

When Dog came back, the tutorial was completed, but I noticed that Dog... never really read the text. "I read it when Isopod has it up on her stream" he says. This'll bean important fact later.

During the Siefer fight, Isopod picks magic and Dog picks defence.

"woah whatda-" "Demon! actual demon!" Isopod and Dog during their first sighting of a Dusk. Quickly followed up with Isopod saying "why's he got cheeks though???"

The Dusk fight was quickly finished, and they both liked the reaction command (important for later).

"Why are they not calling for an adult. This (strange man) had pictures of children. That's VERY concerning" -Isopod "Yeah, the adults in this aren't very reliable" -Me, all knowing.

"COUNT DOOKU WHAT'RE YOU DOING HERE?!" -Dog upon hearing DiZ.

I then let the two do a few chores for munny. Dog does the Cargo Climb, and Isopod the Mail Delivery.

After a short while, I could hear them bemoan doing the same thing over and over; then I say 'yeah- you don't have to collect the full amount, you can go now', which fills the conversation with relief.

"Oh my god Roxas is hallucinating now" - Isopod "I think his friends are gaslighting him" -Dog upon the Pickpocket scene.

The Namine scenes had some interesting reactions:

"Why is there a GIRL braking into his room?!" -Isopod "Puberty is sometimes like that" -Dog

"That is a note an adult leaves when they want to kidnap children." -Dog upon reading Hayner's note "Yeah, I wouldn't trust it" -Isopod. "is she a Jojo???" -Isopod Dog then imitates Dio -during Namine's meeting with Roxas where she freezes time.

Then, in the Dive to the Heart, Isopod picks Attack, and Dog picks Defence. Isopod is able to beat Twilight Thorn straight away, but Dog takes two attempts.

The Fourth day is where everything fell apart. The tournament was easy, and neither struggled against Hayner or Vivi. Then came along Axel.

Isopod beat Axel fairly quickly. I thought they'd struggle, but they didn't. Dog, however struggled. I noticed that when he attacked Axel after parrying or blocking, Axel would retaliate- I told him what I saw, but Dog complained 'I can't attack him otherwise'. It took Dog going from Crit to Proud to beat Axel. "Wow Golden, you're cruel to put a new player on the hardest difficulty" you say, and you would be right, but Dog typically loves very hard games, and boasts that it took him 8 solid hours to beat a boss in Eldren Ring and that 'it was awesome', so I suggested Crit to him.

When Axel was beaten, Dog was VERY tired of Kingdom Hearts, and actively tried his best to dislike it, talking bad about the combat and how 'you're locked into an action'. Isopod did not share this, and was enjoying her time. I could tell that Dog wanted this done, but I urged them forward because they were nearing the finale of the prologue.

They did the wonders, made fun of Roxas' friends gaslighting him into thinking he didn't fall off the clocktower, and they both beat Axel fairly easily second go around. They then made fun of Sora's shoes for 5 minutes straight, and ended the session.

-

It was fun seeing people's first reactions to KHII. Dog's reaction was nothing new to me, as I knew this wouldn't be his favourite, and is only playing so me and Isopod play Eldenring. I'm hoping in the future, he'll warm up to it. Isopod is enjoying her time with the game, which is good to hear.

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Head Full of Ghosts: Chapter 2

Pairing: Astarion x Dark Urge

Summary: Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 and explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge, as well as the friendships and relationships she has with her companions. Plus, everyone gives shit to Gale about his cooking. Tags: Slow Burn, Angst, Pining, Humor, Violence, Friends to Lovers, Developing Friendships, Developing Romance, Spoilers for the Dark Urge and BG3 in general, Dark Urge as Original Female Character Rating: Mature (Will eventually be Explicit, just not there yet.) Current Chapter Count: 3/? Read on AO3 (Will post chapters to Tumblr, as well.) Current Word Count: 13,050

Author Notes: I don't just post random Astarion and BG3 nonsense to this blog, I also have an ongoing fanfic! It's currently up to three chapters, and the fourth is in progress. You can read everything that has been written so far on AO3. If it's your cup of tea, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2: Getting By

For all of his excitement over the revelation he was now able to survive in sunlight, Astarion would always be a nocturnal animal. 200 years of prowling moonlight-kissed streets and shadow-laden alleyways had ingratiated him to the night, and such longstanding habits were hard to break.

He’d never admit it out loud, and possibly had not even fully admitted it to himself, but he preferred the darkness of the night to the stark light of day. Daylight was a source of exposure. There was no room for secrets in the presence of radiant light, a person’s sins and perversions would be laid bare should they open them up to scrutiny during the day.

But, at night, the world was far more honest with itself. The night was indulgent and protective. Those who would chastise someone for their deviant tastes during the day often slunk off to participate in their own debauchery after dark. The night didn’t care. A person could be as hypocritical, underhanded and insidious as they pleased under the cloak of night. She wouldn’t reveal any secrets, the night was gracious in that way.

And, for that, Astarion was grateful. He would be happy to leave his sins to fester in darkness. There were so many nights he wished to forget. Countless lies whispered under the comforts of shadows, infinite promises broken, and the number of lives he destroyed beneath the cover of dark was untold.

He was a wretched thing, undeserving of the warm comforts of the sun. Wretched things were to be regulated to the night, unfit for the bright revealing light of day. His crimes were too numerous, his sins too horrific.

If he were being honest with himself, he’d admit he didn’t feel deserving of the abilities granted by the illithid tadpole. The day was no place for monsters. And that’s what he was, a monster who had committed countless monstrous deeds over the past 200 years.

So why had Eli’s little outburst bothered him so much? It wasn’t as if she’d said anything he didn’t deserve to hear. He’d been the victim of so many of Cazador’s tantrums. And those made Eli’s little hissy fit from earlier today look boringly tame. He’d endured screaming, yelling, beatings, flayings and so much worse. His mind flinched away from the darker memories, the ones that caused the familiar nausea to stir in his stomach. The nights Cazador had brought company to enjoy the services of his spawns…

He’d remind his guests the stakes and silver were off limits, but any other tools they wanted to use for their private time with the spawns were fair game. 

Astarion grimaced and shook his head, as if he could shake off the unwanted images swirling in his mind. Focus. That was behind him. He would never have to grovel for that heathen ever again. He would never be used again. The days of him being passed around like a carcass for Cazador’s vultures to pick at and have their way with were over.

He was the user now. He was the manipulator. He had to be to survive.

And it had all been going well, until today. Until he went just a bit too far and destroyed all his careful planning. All of his work to get Eli to trust him, to get into her circle of protection, to make her believe they were friends with the possibility for something more…he’d fucked it all up. Because of course he did. Because, apparently at some point during his miserable existence, he’d done something to piss off whatever cosmic entity controlled the universe, and now that entity got their rocks off by constantly giving him the proverbial middle finger.

Astarion frowned darkly as he picked through the forested underbrush. The woodland was grim in the bleak night, the moon only a sliver of white light in the dark sky. What weak illumination it did provide was consumed by the forest canopy before it ever made it to the ground. This provided exceptional cover for him to hunt, and for a while his hunger was enough to focus his mind on seeking blood. The forest smelled earthy and old, and Astarion was still adjusting to the cacophony of scents and sounds that were so different from the ones in the city.

Scents of pine and moss instead of perfume and liquor. The trill of a songbird instead of the drawl of a drunken mark. It was…foreign, but nice. Far less chaotic and busy, though sometimes he didn’t mind the chaos of the city. It helped keep him distracted. And distraction was a luxury he wished he had tonight.

But, no…no, the forest tonight was just beautifully serene and enchanting and he hated all of it!

He needed to keep himself out of his head, but with nothing to keep his attention, Astarion kept sinking inward, replaying the events of today and mentally cursing himself for his stupidity. He was disgusted with himself for how he’d responded today. He’d risked everything, his freedom, his protection, his only hope of figuring out what the hell was going on with these tadpoles in their brains…he’d risked all of it because he’d been upset.     

Gods below, how pathetic could he get?

How was he supposed to walk back telling Eli he’d celebrate her turning into a mind flayer? The thought of it made him shiver…all those tentacles. Bleh. Ceremorphosis sounded decidedly unpleasant, and there weren’t many people he’d honestly wish it on. There were a few, of course…but none of them were back at camp.

He wouldn’t actually be happy to see Eli turn. In truth, he’d probably be a bit devastated. She was the only one who seemed to be making any progress towards figuring out what these tadpoles could do for them. All the others had balked at the idea of exploring what other abilities their new little hitchhikers could gift them with – well, Gale hadn’t actually been disagreeable about it, but Astarion wasn’t wholly convinced of Gale’s mental soundness, so he didn’t count.

Lae’zel had looked as if she may actually try to set him on fire, sunlight be damned. Eli had to calm her down with reassurances that they were going to look for a creche, as well as a promise that Lae’zel could have the killing blow on the first goblin they crossed paths with that day.

Eli was also the one who’d convinced the rest of their mentally unstable cohort to give him a chance after his…condition came to light. Out of all the bizarre and unnatural things that had occurred over the past few weeks, that was still one of the most unexpected events to have taken place.

Astarion had fully expected Eli to drive a stake into him the night she woke up to him looming over her. He’d had every intention of biting her and drinking of her blood while she slept…perhaps even draining her, his hunger had been so painful that night. He hadn’t been thinking clearly, but even if he had the thought of asking her permission had never occurred to him. It sounded so farfetched as to be laughable. No sane person with control over all their mental faculties would ever agree to let a vampire drink from them. In the 200 years he’d had this condition, the revelation that he was a vampire only ever wrought fear in his victims.

None of them were willing after that…and their screams as he relinquished them to Cazador still haunted the recesses of his dreams and nightmares.

But she’d agreed. She’d let him. She’d put herself in an incredibly dangerous situation that held no benefit for her, and she’d done it for him. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, and he kept expecting her to bring it up as a bargaining chip, or to try and use it as a way to exact some sort of control over him. But she hadn’t, at least not yet. Which was why he’d been planning to proposition her soon with an offer of sex as a way to return the favor. He had no intention of staying in debt to her, and this was an opportunity to keep his plan in motion. If he could bed her, keep her happy and keep her attached to him, then he’d have a far better chance of surviving this insane misadventure.

Problem was, Astarion wasn’t the only person looking to cozy up with their fearless leader. Wyll drooled over Eli so much he was surprised the man didn’t walk around with a bib. There would be others, too. Eli was…

He frowned, trying to parse through the complicated stirring of thoughts that always seemed to crowd into his mind whenever she was the subject of his musings. She was interesting. Beautiful by any definition, her half-drow lineage gifting her with long silvery hair and skin soft and smooth as any he’d touched.

Astarion’s mind wandered, tongue sliding over the back of his teeth as he reminisced over the warmth of her skin against his mouth. The way she’d trembled beneath him when his fangs pierced her neck, her breath quickening against his ear. Gods, she was delicious. The taste of her was something that would be burned onto his memory for centuries, he was sure of it. Astarion wanted so much more than what he’d been given, but he’d agreed to let her be the one to extend the next offer. And after everything, he at least owed her that meager respect.

Except now, she likely never would make that offer. Hells, the next time he saw her he half expected Eli to throw him out of camp.

Astarion suddenly realized he’d been standing out in the forest, lost in his thoughts, for quite some time. He groaned, rubbing at his temple. He may just have to call it for the night, every animal for a mile would have tuned into his presence by now.

Hunt botched by his own hand, Astarion began trudging back towards camp. He was hungry, irritated and now he needed to figure out how to remedy his relationship with their wild-eyed I-will-Eldritch-Blast-you-into-oblivion leader.

Maybe she’d just forget what he’d said to her. Memory loss was kind of her thing, anyway.

“Astarion!”

The pale elf nearly jumped from the sheer amount of…excitement with which his name was called. He couldn’t recall a time when anyone had ever yelled his name with that much enthusiasm - sexual trysts aside, of course.

Astarion stood in the gloom near the edge of the stream that separated their grouping of tents from a nearby aged ruin. He had nearly made it back to camp, feet trudging over a path he had begun to know well due to his nightly prowling. His mind mused over how, only a few short weeks ago, he would not have been capable of crossing the running stream in front of him now. And then she’d called out to him, her voice echoing out from what sounded like a spot inside the battered and fallen down stone structure that had long ago been some grand building with grand purposes.

The voice was buoyant and earnest, and a twist of anxiety tightened in his chest. He recognized that voice as Eli’s, and Eli should be decidedly not excited to see him considering how their last chat went. The only excuse he could conceive of her having was that she wanted something from him. And if that was the case…then maybe the fallout from earlier wasn’t as grim as he’d thought.

He craned his neck to try and catch sight of her. The ruin wasn’t so much a building anymore as it was an ornament upon the landscape. Its walls had long since crumbled and the top of the structure now opened up to the yawning sky, roof rotted away. What little light the slivered moon reflected was hazy and weak, but his darkvision compensated as his keen eyes focused. She was standing near what appeared to be a bench towards the back of the decrepit structure, one hand raised in an over-enthused and slightly erratic wave while in her other hand she held…a bottle?

Astarion’s mouth crooked up in a sly smirk. Was their fearsome and bold leader - the woman whom he’d watched charm tieflings, decapitate harpies and reason with a grown-ass owlbear – getting drunk by herself in the middle of the night?

During his walk back to camp, Astarion had mulled over all the ways he could approach mending the tensions between them. In his mind, all of them had involved a very sober and annoyed Eli and there was a 50/50 chance that the discussion would end with her polymorphing him into a duck.

Zero of these scenarios, however, had involved her drunk, barefoot and knocking about in some rundown ruin like a restless poltergeist.

A practiced and easy smile snapped into place on his face, almost unconsciously, as Astarion made his way to Eli with all the swagger of a fox who’d found a little lost field mouse.

“Hello, my dear,” he cooed silkily, crimson eyes landing upon what appeared to be a rather handsomely embroidered red cloak that Eli had wrapped around her shoulders. He eyed the garment curiously and could not recall having seen it before, and the night was not particularly chilly.

“Now where did this lovely accoutrement come from?” Astarion asked, reaching out and rubbing the hem between his fingers.

It was extremely well made and he could sense the low and staticky undercurrent that tended to vibrate in the air around items infused with magic. This was not some cheap cape, and she certainly hadn’t purchased it from that halfwit merchant in Emerald Grove. The cloak was likely worth more than any of the junk that druid peddled to tourists.

Eli grinned, tipping the neck of the bottle she was holding towards him as he caught the faint scent of currant and cherry. “Would you believe me if I said my demon butler showed up this evening and gave it to me?” she asked cheerily, bringing the bottle to her lips for another swig.

Astarion blinked peculiarly at her, searching her face and waiting a short beat for a punchline that never came. Eli simply watched him with a quirky smile, listing slightly to the left as the alcohol continued to run its course.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, plucking the bottle from her hand and inspecting its nearly emptied contents. “How many of these have you had this evening?”

Eli squeaked in protest as the wine was usurped from her, hastily reaching to grab it back. “Not enough to begin hallucinating, unfortunately. I didn’t even know I had a butler,” she said as Astarion raised the bottle up and out of her reach, a wily smirk on his lips. “Give it back,” she asserted, like a child who just had a toy snatched from them.

Astarion chuckled and kept the wine just out of her reach as she leaned in to him in another attempt to grab the bottle.

“No.” He met her eyes, brow furrowed in a teasing challenge and expression coyly enticing.

It was so simple to slip back into his charming and roguish persona, like a well-worn coat that fit perfectly every time he put it on. All the little rips in the fabric from past misadventures had been patched as he learned from mistakes and reenforced the farce. He had spent decades learning, testing, crafting and perfecting in order to be whatever his target wanted in that moment. And he was very, very good.

Eli sighed, putting on a show of being frustrated as she leaned back and crossed her arms. “Okay, Withers,” her lips took on a small, self-satisfied quirk as she spoke and the tiniest spark of fondness fired off somewhere deep and distant in Astarion’s brain.

“Thou hast indulged sufficiently at present,” he said in his best impersonation of their grim and ambiguous undead camp counselor. Then, with an effortless smile he added, “Darling.”

Eli short-circuited.

She broke out into unabashed laughter, doubling over as her hands went to her knees for support. Astarion felt a pang of gratification stir in his chest, strangely pleased at having been the source of her laughter.

Taking a step back, Eli sat on the nearby bench, leaning her head up against the stone wall behind it and whiping tears from her eyes.

“Whew,” she breathed out, still grinning. “I haven’t laughed like that since…” her voice trailed off as the smile slowly fell from her face, eyes fixating on the sky above with a troubled and dour sheen to them.   

The realization crept up on him slowly that she was trying to recall her life from before the nautiloid and failing. That feeling of gratification now gone, Astarion chewed at his bottom lip for a moment. It was difficult for him to imagine being in the situation she was. His every waking moment was haunted by the memories of the past 200 years. He felt as if his eyes were constantly darting to the shadows whenever he entered a room, expecting to see Cazador or one of his lackeys lurking. A part of him envied her for the memories she no longer possessed, and with that the freedom she had to define her future. But another part of him wondered at the loss and the pain of not knowing one’s own self. Of having no internal sense of true north or identity. The thought of it caused an uncomfortable and tense sensation in his stomach, and suddenly the weight of the bottle in his hand felt a bit more significant.

Clearing his throat, he moved to sit beside Eli on the bench and tipped the wine bottle towards her in offering. Her eyes glanced from his face to the bottle, her expression softening as she took the wine from him.

“You know,” he said, staring at a spot on the ground in front of him with a somber and dark look. “I’d let the mind flayers put ten tadpoles in my brain if it meant ridding myself of some of the memories in my head.” His voice was quiet and held a sense of hesitancy, as if the words might flee from his lips at any moment.

“But, for all of it to be taken…” Astarion paused, collecting his thoughts, before he gave a light huff as a small smile pulled at his mouth. “Well, all things considered, getting drunk all by your lonesome in the middle of the night seems a perfectly acceptable way to cope.”

He glanced back to Eli, who was now staring at him with her head still propped up against the stone wall, light violet eyes flashing like purple fluorite in the underdark. Something was swirling in her thoughtful gaze as she considered him, and Astarion felt both curiosity and anxiety colliding inside his chest as he wondered what her eyes might be searching for.

Astarion had always known his value in the eyes of others was based on the superficial. His worth was measured in the pleasure he brought to partners, in how he made them feel while pressing sweetly whispered lies into their lips. He knew what people saw when they looked at him, always keenly aware of the wayward gazes of strangers as they lingered on his body, their fingers twitching to caress pale smooth skin.

Eli’s eyes, however, were not roaming his body and instead had settled into a calm stare he was finding it somewhat difficult to look away from. It was unnerving, in a sense, and for a moment an irrational fear rose up inside him that she would see past all his frivolity and find him lacking. See the truth behind the façade, that he was just a used up wretch looking to anchor himself to whatever barricade he could put between him and what he knew was coming for him. And then she’d cast him off, because who the hell would want to deal with that?

He didn’t allow the mask to fall, though, and held her gaze with his best come hither stare, tilting his chin down so he peered up at her through soft grey lashes.

“Like what you see, darling?” he asked, voice edged with a suggestive and gravely tone.

He needed to stay in Eli’s good graces, he needed the protection this ragtag group provided. And he’d charm the pants off of her, literally, in order to keep himself safe.

Eli, however, was apparently not on the same line of thought as he was. She blinked back at him, eyes widening and mouth forming into a small ‘O’ as if she were just remembering something. And then she was moving, popping up from the bench and darting past him, walking towards their camp as she tossed some clipped instructions over her shoulder.

“Stay here! I’ll be right back.”

Astarion stared at the empty spot on the bench where Eli had been only a moment ago, confusion and surprise knitting his eyebrows together. That…was new.

When it came to seduction, Astarion held no doubts in regards to his abilities. He was good, and as he perfected his craft it become more and more of a rarity for a mark to turn him down. In fact, in all of his centuries of manipulating targets and entrancing partners, he could not think of a single time when someone had literally fled from his presence while he was in the midst of laying his trap.

“What in the nine hells?” he muttered under his breath, before turning to call after her. “Where are you going?” His voice was a bit more shrill than he’d meant it to be, and he cleared his throat, working to collect himself and gain back some iota of control over the situation.

Eli was halfway across the fallen tree, which served as a makeshift bridge across the stream, when she turned around and threw up her arms, waving him off. “Shush! You want to wake up the whole camp?” she hissed.

And then she was moving off and out of sight, leaving Astarion to wonder how the fuck everything had gone so sideways. He was rather miffed, if he were being honest. No one just got up and walked off in the face of his adoring attention. And what in the hells did she think she was doing, telling him to just sit and wait for her to come back. Astarion didn’t wait for anyone. He wasn’t some bright-eyed eager prey to be toyed with.

Curiosity, however, was getting the better of him. So he sat, sullenly, brooding over how he should just get up and leave. Maybe she’d lied and that hadn’t been her first bottle of wine…it would certainly explain her absurd behavior.  

Astarion was still sulking over how offended he was when Eli returned and sat back down next to him on the bench, a new and unopened bottle of something held out towards him. He chuckled, mood lightening as realization dawned on him. Was she trying to get him drunk?

“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” he crooned silkily. “But, I think the camp can only handle one drunken gremlin at a time.”

Eli just rolled her eyes and pushed the bottle into his hands. “You don’t have to drink it right now. I…um…” her jaw tightened for a moment, a look of consideration on her face.

Astarion frowned at her, confused, and then looked to the bottle which she had practically forced upon him. An icy and uncertain pang of surprise settled in his gut as he read the label. Barrel-Aged Callidyrran…a favorite of his. But…how had she…

“You mentioned your preference for it when we were in that apothecary cellar, while you were going off about the amount of ‘unconscionable swill’ being kept down there.” Astarion could hear Eli’s explanation, but he was having difficulty comprehending it.

Why had she remembered such an offhanded and silly comment from him? And why had she then acted on it? What was she hoping to achieve? He just continued to stare at the bottle, brows furrowing in confusion and slight frustration. He could feel her eyes on him, expectant and hopeful, but couldn’t bring himself to look up.

“So,” Eli continued. “When we got back to the Grove, I paid Mattis a few coin to find some bottles. I have no clue how he did it, that kid’s potential is highly underutilized at present, but he had two of them the next day. So, I added them to our camp supplies thinking it could be a nice surprise, but…” her voice trailed off and Astarion finally looked to her, expression guarded and hesitant.

He noticed the flush of her cheeks and could hear the quickening of her heart. He was suddenly very aware of the blood rushing just below her skin, his tongue rubbing at the back of his teeth as he recalled the phantom taste of her. If there was something she wanted from him, she didn’t need to try and bribe him with favors and trinkets. She already possessed something he dearly wanted, though he would never be so bold about blatantly saying so.

Eli held his gaze for a moment before glancing sideways and running a hand through her long silvery hair, pushing it back from her face. “Well, I noticed that you don’t seem to get into the camp supplies, which make sense because the whole vampire thing.” She shrugged to herself and then looked back to him, eyes focused with an edge of determination.

“So, I wanted to give this to you and also say that I’m really sorry for what I said to you earlier today. It wasn’t fair or right of me to go off on you like that,” Eli said, concluding her explanation and allowing a long moment of silence to pass between them.

Astarion’s mind was spinning. For one thing, it had never even occurred to him that the collection of supplies which they hoarded at camp could be used by anyone. He had simply assumed those supplies were managed by someone that was not him, and that he was not allowed access. A habit carried over from living under Cazador’s rules for so long. He had so few worldly possessions, and anything he did possess was either expressly given to him or acquired through more clandestine means. The thought that he could just take whatever he wanted from their shared stash was almost intimidating, and completely foreign.

What was even more foreign, though, was the act of being given a gift. The concept that someone had remembered something he’d said, and then cared about it enough to actually act upon that information.

His mouth had gone dry and an uncomfortable sensation was prickling between his shoulder blades. No, people didn’t just give him things without having expectations. There was always a cost, always a burden to be met. People weren’t kind just for the hell of it, and they certainly weren’t kind to him. Nor did they apologize out of the goodness of their heart.

No. Eli was playing at something and Astarion wanted to know what it was.

“What do you want?” It came out a bit more accusatory than he’d meant it, but he wasn’t going to balk.

Eli was under no obligation to apologize for what she’d said to him. If she were to cut him out of the group tomorrow, Astarion doubted anyone would miss him. Plus, with him gone the group’s odds of survival may rise given the fact that without him there was no threat of running afoul of any hunters who Cazador may have sent after him. He, on the other hand, very much needed to stay in Eli’s good graces. She had the upper hand here, so why was she acting as if she didn’t?

Eli, looking a bit taken aback by his blunt question, considered her next words for a moment before answering. “I guess…I want to make sure we’re still friends?” she asked, watching him carefully.

Astarion was not a man who often found himself without words. But in that moment, he was struck dumb. Friends? What a childish and idiotic concern. Surely, that wasn’t all there was to it?

He watched her quietly for a moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop. For her to end the charade and come clean. But she stayed quiet and simply looked back at him with a tired earnestness that wormed its way into his stomach and twisted it up in knots he wasn’t unsure how to undo. It was slowly dawning on him that, if Eli actually meant what she was saying, this would be the first gift someone had given him in over 200 years.

His eyes slid back to the bottle in his hands and his chest tightened, expression softening as something almost sad flitted across his face. His thumb traced over the deep green glass while his mind whirred and sputtered around what Eli had said. He honestly couldn’t think of the last person he’d considered a friend, and there was a small part of him that desperately wanted to reach out and cling to this offering of friendship like a man drowning.

He didn’t understand any of this. Didn’t understand why she cared. Why she’d remember his pointless offhand comments. Why she’d try to mend the rift between them when she had nothing to gain from doing so.

Why the tightness in his chest was suddenly making it hard to breathe.

He found he had to clear his throat before he was able to speak, and when he did his voice was reticent and soft, unable to mask the skepticism clawing at his thoughts.

“Of course, my dear,” was all he managed as he looked back up to her, the normally effortless and velvety tone of his words cracking ever so slightly.

His response seemed acceptable to Eli, because the relief that broke out on her face was noticeable. She smiled at him, and he could see the fatigue in the way her shoulders sagged and her eyes wavered while she held his gaze.

“I guess I owe you a thank you for this,” Astarion said, indicating the wine which he still held.

Eli stood, stretching her arms above her head as she replied. “You don’t owe me anything. But, it’s appreciated,” she said warmly as she began walking in the direction of camp. “I’m going to try to get some sleep. If that creepy butler of mine comes back, kindly tell him to fuck off.”

Astarion watched her leave and felt a small fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He quickly dismissed it and stood, feeling his own weariness beginning to take hold. As he made his way towards his tent, he kept a firm grip on the bottle of Barrel-Aged Callidyrran, carrying it as if it were something delicate and precious.

[targaryen-realness]

Witching chapter 4

Title: Witchling

Pairing: Osferth x Druidess!Reader

Warnings: Canon depiction of violence, mention of slavery, wounds and scars, magic, historical innacuracy (sorry medieval Scotland is not my specialty), talk about faith and christianity. The reader is fem but there is no physical description except for the fact she is a scot from the Highlands. Spoilers for season 3 of the Last Kingdom. 

for this chapter: suicidal thoughts, strong use of magic, not very christian friendly (sorry), slight nsfw 

Summary: As they are riding away from Winchester, Osferth and Lord Uhtred’s group come across a mysterious woman. She needs help but the power within her is obvious. Captivated, Osferth hopes she will stay, but as Uhtred asks her to travel with them, he cannot help but wonder what is going on in his lord’s head.

Notes: Thank you for the love on the previous chapters! Sorry for the delay on this one but I’ve been writing the Aemond fic too haha Hope you will like it!

Tags: @lugiastark @afro-hispwriter @aphroditesmoon @carlottalhn @dothrckis @mynameisbaby9

“We are leaving for Coccham”

You were already preparing your horse when Osferth told you you were all leaving soon. You knew Uthred would not want to stay any longer in Winchester, only wanting to return to his home. You were happy to leave, the charm of Winchester having worn off very fast after your night here. 

“I know. Do you need help to pack things for the children?”

You had returned late into the night, and had gone to sleep almost immediately. You were drained from your energy and you slept without a dream. You had woken up with a very curious Stiorra watching you, waiting for you to say something. 

He had not said a thing about yesterday, and had not asked you any question. You could see the sadness on his face and you felt helpless. 

“Were you close? With lady Gisela?”

“Were you close? With lady Gisela?”

He seemed surprised but nodded, handing you a bag at the same time. 

“When I left the monastery, I did not know where to go. She was always good to me, she cared for me and allowed me to stay in her home. I liked her a lot” 

He was such a good soul, you thought. Then you realised he probably never had a mother and it suddenly made sense. She was the first woman to ever open her arms to him in a motherly way. Your heart broke for him as you remembered the feeling of your mom’s arms around you, the gentle way she would caress your head, kiss your cheeks. 

“She sounds like a great person. 

-She truly was. People were not kind to her here, because she was not a christian, but at heart she was kinder than most christians I’ve met.”

The words resonated in the room and you looked at him shocked. 

“You do not mind? Your friends being heathens? 

-Absolutely not. As long as they are good people, and they are, I do not care for their faith.”

He licked his lips finally looking at you. 

“I thought that if you did not like me, it was because of this. Of the fact I am a druidess.”

He seemed taken aback by your statement, his mouth closing and opening but no words seemed to come out. 

“I do not hate you Y/n”

You released the breath you did not know you were holding. 

“I never said you hated me, I said dislike.

-Well I do not dislike you. Quite the opposite”

It was your turn to look like a fish out of the water. He chuckled when he saw your expression but did not say a thing. 

“Thank you” you blurted out without thinking. 

“For what? 

-Since I’ve been with you all, I feel like I can be myself again. After what happened, I thought I would stay sad all my life, that I would never move on. I don’t think that anymore. So thank you, for not letting me die on the side of the road, and for caring for me. I care for you too”

You had said way more than you wanted to, but it felt good, for it to finally come out. He smiled at you and you felt your cheeks getting warm. He was so pretty. More than any man should be allowed to be. His smile lit up his face and it did not help you could see the slight blush on his cheeks. 

“We should keep packing. Lord Uhtred will be back soon”

And you did, in silence mostly, trying not to act too awkwardly. You could not help the smile that was stretching your lips. It was Finan that disrupted that blissful moment with his loud voice:

“We have a problem, everyone in the house now”. 

“You killed him? How did you even do that?”

You were speechless as you were walking back and forth in the living room under the gaze of Osferth and Uhtred. 

“I told you what he said. 

-I do not blame you for hitting him. I do not blame you at all actually. It’s just, you are a very unlucky man”

He looked at you, a look of desperation mixed with anger that made you lift your hands in sign of surrender.

“I made this for you today. Maybe it will help a little. It won’t fix your predicament but it’s supposed to protect you.”

You approached him and put the necklace around his neck. It was similar to your own, but it was a different Ogham that ornate the front of the wood pendant. You kept the piece of wood in your hand for a second before saying a word under your breath. You let it fall back on his chest and he looked at it uncertainly. 

“Have a little faith, Uhtred of Bebbanburg, you are starting to make me question myself. 

-I would not dare” he answered, taking Stiorra in his arms. You pinched her cheek playfully as she smiled at you. 

“Maybe I should make you one too, would you like that?”

She nodded sweetly and you smiled back. Uhtred’s children were courageous, for sure. The chaos in their life did not seem to phase them as much as you would have thought. For that, you only had admiration for them. 

“Sister Hild!”,Uhtred, the oldest son of Uhtred, shouted. 

You turned around to see the abbess enter the house. She simply chuckled and led the boy toward his bed. 

“Lord, there can be no bloodshed. They are throwing insults out there, but they will soon tire of that.”

She smiled at Stiorra and called for her, the little girl hopping off of her father’s lap toward the abbess. 

“There will not be bloodshed” he answered and you looked at Osferth, worried for the lord. 

The sadness and tiredness in his voice was obvious. In a matter of days he had endured more than a lot of men could have put up with. 

“You should say that to Steapa. His head is hurting from thinking.”, Abbess Hild said. She looked as lost as the rest of you. 

“Is there a solution? 

-I did nothing wrong. 

-Uhtred”, she sounded exasperated. 

“You killed a monk. A holy man, and not for the first time”

You wanted to ask if that horrible man being a monk was really that important. He was still a horrible man, cruel and vile. He had said things about Gisela, and you apparently that were so degrading, Uhtred had not even repeated them to you when he came back. It was still funny to see how christians were able to categorise the importance of life. Being a holy man could be a cover for being the most atrocious monster that earth has ever borne. The reality was that now everyone in Winchester knew you were no christian, and that everyone had lied for you. You were not safe here. 

“The real question is why in god's name, is she still here? And her too? Two witches inside your house, really. 

-I am not your concern, witch”, answered Skade, and you almost laughed. 

“I did not intend to kill the monk, nor do I regret it. 

-It was fate”, finished Skade. You doubted it was fate. Everything happened for a reason, that was what you had been told since you were a child, but it did not mean you could not question it. 

“Fetch Beocca. Ask him to bring the demands of the King.

-I will tell Beocca that you are ready to talk and to listen. Be sure that you do.” 

She turned her head toward Skade and said: “It would help if you cut her throat”

Abbess Hild did not look at you, but you still felt the pressure of the blade on your throat. 

“He cannot.” she marked a pause, her next words resonating in a sinister manner, “He dare not”. 

The silence was heavy once sister Hild was out. You could feel the eyes of Skade, not looking away from Uhtred. She was plunging her claws deeper in his flesh each passing days. You were scared you were not acting fast enough. 

“Tonight Lord… You will break your oath to Alfred. You will have-

-Quiet. I have enough of your voice”

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. 

“It is a new beginning. 

-We do not care about what you have to say. 

-You do not? I am sure the lord will be happy to know you knew about his wife’s death but did not say anything”

The silence that followed her statement almost crushed you. You did not let your eyes leave her face, you did not dare to look at Uhtred or worse, Osferth. 

“I did not know she was gonna die. 

-You did. You told the other dane on our way to Winchester.” she smiled at you. 

“There is a difference between smelling death and knowing something will happen” you turned toward Uhtred who was looking at you, lost. 

“I did not know exactly. I could not have told you even if I wanted to. And when I understood, it did not matter anymore”

He did not say anything, but Skade had succeeded. Osferth had turned around on his chair, avoiding you, and Uhtred was doing everything in his power to avoid your mere presence. You found yourself in another room, Stiorra sleeping near you as you were munching on a piece of meat. You heard father Beocca enter the house but did not care to listen. The only thing you could tell was that as the voice increased in volume, the tears rolling down your cheeks also did. The little girl looked at you, probably awakened by the screams.

“Why are you crying?” she asked, her sweet voice making you smile and whip your cheeks. 

“Sorry, I’m just a bit sad. That happens sometimes.

-I’m sad too. Everyone is sad lately. 

-I know. I am sorry about your mom.”

You were expecting cries but no, she looked at you and in her eyes you saw the deep sadness she was hiding so well. 

“I didn’t want her to die. It’s unfair”

You sat on her bed, not knowing if it was appropriate for you to do. You took the little girl in your arms, doing your best to comfort her. She hugged you back, and the little sobs that you could hear from her almost broke your heart. 

“I know. But your mom would be very proud of you. You are being very brave”

You caressed her hair gently, soothing her the best you could. You did not know how much time had passed while you hugged the little girl but you finally heard the door open and turned around to see Finan. 

“We need to go”

His eyes lingered on you and the little girl before he closed the door. You put Stiorra back to bed, caressed her hair one last time and closed the door gently. Sihtric, Finan and Osferth were looking at you, Uhtred was gone. 

“Uhtred is gone, he will come back with a new agreement or we will have to flee. 

-Are we going to leave the children there ? 

-They are not at risk. We are, especially you, now that everyone knows you are no christian.”

Finan had said this in a tone he has never used to address you before. It was harcher and colder. You gulped, trying to find the comforting eyes of Osferth or Sihtric. 

“You think I have something to do with Gisela’s death? That I saw it? Could have prevented it maybe?”

They did not answer. 

“There is nothing I could have done to save her because I was on the other side of the kingdom. I knew she was dead, that’s all I saw. I did not ask for this. 

-All you have to do is break this curse! Then you will be free to go wherever you want!

-How can I do that inside a christian fortress! All I’m asking is a couple of hours in a forest! Then I’ll get the answers you want and will disappear from your life forever. You will not need to worry about me anymore.”

Your words seemed to take Finan and Osferth by surprise as Sihtric stayed impassive. You turned around and left, seeking your bag with the little belongings that you had left. You returned to the main room and heard a commotion outside. Uhtred stumbled inside and you saw the blood dripping down of him. 

“We need to leave right now.

-You’re hurt”

He took your wrist and dragged you outside. 

“Wait Uhtred!” 

You were pushed against your horse and without a word you mounted it. You could not think about anything, the only thing you remembered from this moment was the loud noise of the horses hooves and the screams of the men that were hunting you down. You had no idea how many hours you raced through Wessex like this. You had no idea where you were supposed to go. You were lost, amongst men that you once thought could be your friends, but that now seemed to be so far away from you. You were riding at the back, between two men you did not know the name of. You were lost in thought, sadness and loneliness were plagging you. You had almost forgotten the feeling. Now, on top of this you were scared for your life. You were not afraid that Uhtred would kill you, you know he would not. He was leading you to your certain death though. You were making your way to the danes. To Gorn probably. You knew that the moment he saw you he would kill you. You were contemplating slitting your own throat before he could get to you. You prayed for the entire ride. Lugh, the god you worshipped and to whom you had dedicated your life, stayed silent. So far away from your sacred land, could he even hear you? You had felt him there in Wessex, during Gisela’s funeral. You knew it. You thought of the pendant around the lord’s neck. Maybe you should not have given such an artefact to a man you barely knew. Maybe putting your life on the line for men who were using you wasn’t the best idea. For a moment you contemplated running away. Where would you go? With what silver? In what direction? The reality was that you were the safest here. It was a terrifying thought. And what about your promise? You were not the kind to break your engagements. You were a woman of your words, you had been raised with honour, and you will not break it. Even if it meant you were going to die. You were distracted by the conversation between Skade and Uhtred, and the piercing voice of the witch. 

“Then you will remain cursed!”

No one said anything but you saw Uhtred tense. The Lord was going to die if it kept going. Your bad feeling kept getting worse as you saw his state deteriorating with the hours that passed. You were seated around a fire, not with Uhtred and the others but with Skade. They were talking, and with the weak light of the fire you were able to see Uhtred’s ashy face. 

“Did they already get bored of you?”

You ignored her. Getting closer from the fire, seeking its warmth. 

“You are powerful, I will give you that.” you told her finally.

“My gods are not to mess with.”

In your head you were chanting the name of Eochu Ollathir, god of the sciences and protector of the druids and druidesses, and his daughter Brigid, guardian of the purifier fire. The fire became increasingly warmer, almost too much, and when you plunged your hand into it, owning a gasp from the men that were seated nearby, you did not feel the heat, or even the pain that you should have felt. Everyone was silent, even Uhtred and his circle, when you said: 

“Mine are not either”. 

You stood up and left for the forest that was all around you. You needed to be alone with your thoughts. You walked in the same direction far enough that you could still see the weak light of the fires, but enough so that they could not see you. Your goal was not to get lost. You sat on a rock and contemplated your surroundings. The cold wind was caressing your face, as you lifted your head you admired the night sky. The stars were shining like you had rarely seen them. For a second you felt yourself transported back to the Highlands, to the mountains of your childhood, to the orange and yellow forests that you loved so dearly. To the lake that reflected that very same sky you were looking at. You felt the tears slide down your cheeks but you could not stop staring. You smiled at the fond memories as the feeling of homesickness settled in. 

“Are you okay Y/n?”

It was the sweet voice of Osferth that got you out of your reverie. You turned around, whipping out your tears as fast as you could. 

“Are you crying?”

He seemed so sad for you. You could hear it in his tone, see it on his face, in the way he walked toward you to sit on the same rock as you. 

“You should not have come here ? What will the others think ?”

Your voice was trembling and you did not dare to look him in the eyes. 

“They won’t think anything. I think you scared them all to death.”

You laughed at that, trying to make it sound as sincere as possible. 

“Did I scare you too?”

You turned around and smiled at him, and you saw in his eyes he did not believe that fake smile for a second. His hands were fidgeting on his lap the last time you had looked at them, so you could not have helped the little move of surprise that you had when one of his knuckles gently caressed your cheek. You realised you were still crying. The feeling of his skin against yours was something you could not describe, but you were hypnotised. You did not realise you were so close to him, the heat of his body burning you more than the fire you had put your hand into a few moments ago. His eyes, blue like the most beautiful spring sky, were reflecting the same intensity as yours. 

“I am not scared of you Y/n. I think you are a gift from god. This is the only explanation. An angel.”

He almost whispered it. You were coming closer, eyes still not leaving his, but you were now feeling his hot breath against your cold skin. 

“If the church says otherwise, I will tell them they are wrong. If you are a demon, then maybe I am not worshipping the right god”

The weight of his words was heavy on your shoulder except the guilt of deflecting an honest man from his faith would be a thing you will have to deal with later. Because right now you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss this man until he was tired of you because you were not sure you would be able to one day be tired of him. So you did. You pressed your lips against his. He did not push you away but he froze against your body. 

“I’m sorry I-

-No! Please”

It had come out in a pleading tone, and the red on his cheeks was a good indicator of his desperation. So you kissed him again, and again. His lips were surprisingly soft, and you loved every second of those kisses. You felt yourself get more heated, that familiar pressure in the pit of your stomach slowly settling in. 

“Y/n” he whimpered against your lips. 

You loved it when he said your name. When he said it, screamed it, whispered it, and even more when he was saying it as if you were some sort of deity he was devoting himself to. 

“We should go back” you said. If you kept going, you knew it would be more and more difficult to back down. 

“Give me a minute.” he said averting your gaze. “Just to catch my breath”

You raised an eyebrow in question, but you understood. 

“Oh”

You chuckled and he looked at you offended. You caressed his right cheek gently, trying to contain your laughter. 

“Do you want me to stay or do you need some alone time?”

He looked exasperated, but you could see the hint of a smile on his lips. 

“Go away from me temptress.”

You laughed again before kissing him one last time. He looked dumbfounded and you were delighted by his expression. 

“You are not helping me. 

-Maybe I don’t want to”

You walked away, your heart feeling lighter than it had when you made the same path before. When you stepped back into the camp, all eyes were on you, especially Finan’s. 

“Where is Osferth?

-He is coming back soon, don't worry.”

He looked at you suspiciously. 

“I did not kill him and bury his corpse in the forest Finan, you can sleep soundly.”

Sihtric laughed at that and you could see the corner of Finan’s mouth lifting.

“I’m sorry. To be honest I don’t really know why I am even apologising. But if you had the impression I broke your trust, I didn't mean to.” 

They looked at you surprised. 

“If I had the ability to help Gisela, I would have done so. But I couldn’t.”

You did not wait for an answer and left them to think. You did not see Uthred on your way to the fire where you were sitting previously. Skade was not there either and for some reason, it made the absence of the lord even more worrisome. 

[pedroshotwifey]

WIP Wednesday!!

Thank you so much for tagging me @kewwrites (this woman is the legit loml go show her some love)

Got three things for you heathens today!

TTF 7 (lil spicy snippet so no spoilers ;) Chapter 6 will be posted on Friday!)

You moan wildly, your head tossing back as you grip Javi’s hair to keep him to you. He lets you ride out your orgasm, but as soon as it’s through, he’s climbing back up your body and slipping inside of your velvet heat.  He groans and dips down to hide his face in the crook of your neck, your arms coming up to wrap around his and hold him close to you. His pace as he starts to thrust in and out of you is less frantic than it has been every other time so far.  He makes slow, sensual love to you, like he’s trying to anchor himself to your soul. And you really think he’s successful in his efforts. Little gasps fall from your parted lips each time he bucks his hips up to yours, just forceful enough to peg that heavenly spot inside of you every time. 

Urges (Joel Fucking Miller pt. 2) (Can also be read as a standalone but I think it's the same couple)

“Let me suck your dick,” you whisper up at him, watching his eyes go wide as he snaps his head left and right to make sure nobody heard that.  The two of you had gone to the last dinner offered, so it’s pretty dark out, and it’s also been raining for the last hour or so. There are only a few people out other than you since it’s so close to curfew, but Joel’s face still goes a little red at your request. You can’t help but bite your lip to contain your smile.  It really is funny how flustered he gets about you saying something like that when he’s the one who loves to talk about railing you in public. There’s not a single person under the canopy that you stopped under, but he still lowers his voice as he speaks. 

Valentines Day Fic (Unnamed rn but it's with Marc Spector! Not sure when it will be out bc I'm tired asf 🥲)

You find him leaning against the counter, glancing at his watch in the kitchen.  “Am I late?” you ask with a smile.  He looks up, a goofy grin of his own plastered on his face as he gets ready to respond to you, but it’s quickly replaced with his jaw dropping. Your smile broadens as Marc’s eyes trail up and down your body, taking in every bit of you.  “You look fucking gorgeous, baby,” he manages to get out. He holds one hand out a bit, waiting for you to take the last step to him. You do, wrapping your arms around him and placing a kiss on his lips. 

What do y'all got?? @nerdieforpedro @sweetercalypso @joels-shitty-puns @callachloe @princessanglophile @romanarose @for-a-longlongtime Sorry if y'all have already done this or if anyone tagged me and I didn't see 😅

[opal-owl-flight]

Oh for the LOVE OF FUCK TAG YOUR SPOILERS YOU HEATHENS

[themanwhomadeamonster]

I SAID TAG YOUR SPOILERS YOU HEATHENS

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Word Find Tag

Catch up p3 - Thanks for the tag, @verkja!

it was also in may my bad XD

My words: dirt, sharp, intricate, and softly

Your words: hidden, health, hold, and hurt

Gently tagging: @yet-another-heathen, @clairelsonao3, @imaginativemind29new, and You, if you want! Have an Open Tag :)

Moving on down the list, next up is Hidden Depths :)

CW for bloody injuries & spoilers lol

Dirt

"Noooo," she moaned. She couldn't see Mieste; he would find out. He would know. "You're bleeding too much. You need to be bandaged," Resh said, and she knew it was true. She could feel the blood running down her back, soaking into her pants. Could see the dark patches of dirt around her where it dripped off. She shook her head anyway.

Sharp

Her vision blurred when Resh raised his head and frantically searched the tunnel ahead of him. She could tell he could barely see through the pain, but his violet eyes, which had dimmed significantly, finally found hers. The look of relief that crossed his face broke her fucking heart. Get up, get up, get up, she chanted in her head, willing Resh to pick himself up, to get out. Carr broke free from her paralysis and clawed desperately at the rubble in front of her, completely ignoring her cracked and splitting fingernails, the sharp edges of rock slicing into her skin. Tears fell unchecked down her face, and she couldn't have cared less. Resh shook his head, and the light in his eyes went out. The whole fucking bluff the tunnel surfaced from rumbled, raining dirt and stone that glanced off Carr's shoulders. She was forced to back away or risk being buried as the rest of the tunnel collapsed, taking Resh with it. Carr covered her face with her bloody hands and wailed.

Intricate

"Ah, ah, none of that, now," Marcus admonished. He moved over to Carr's fisted left hand, pinned to the wall by the vines. Resh watched as more vines forced Carr's hand open, watched as they curled around each individual finger, intertwined in an intricate pattern over his hand, and wrapped around his wrist.  Marcus sliced off the extra length with his dagger. "Now, this should do the trick." Carr's expression was confused; Resh looked at the cage the vines made around Carr's hand with horror. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

Softly

Nykim's footsteps were barely audible as he crossed the room, stopping behind her. She twitched, but he didn't try to touch her again. "I'm sorry," Nykim said softly. Tears pricked her eyes, and a sob lodged in her throat. She swallowed it back, but her chest hurt. Every beat of her fractured heart reminded her of who she was missing. Who she might always be missing.

[rusquared]

there's no foolproof way to search your blog to my knowledge, but in your custom blog theme you can access your archive where you can filter by tag and type of post! also in custom theme the search is still janky but a bit better, especially when u go to a certain tag. hope this helps, sorry if the post was rhetorical haha

no the post was VERY literal. i am just a heathen who won't tag anything beyond my #orv spoilers tags, so i'm a little fucked there. but thank you so much !! i'll see if i have more luck with the archive :)

[serenebeasts]

This will probably have been in the drafts for a while by the time it’s posted because there’s a lot and I get tired SDKFJSFDKS but without further ado: the WIP rundown no one asked for.

Organised at the very least by subject matter, because while I may be out of control, I’m not a heathen.

WARNING: these won’t be spoiler-free.

Also, I’m noting this here because otherwise I’ll one hundred percent keep restating it with half the items on the list: I like angst I like to have fun :)

This is about to be so long. I apologise in advance if you’re of a mind to read the whole thing, and I thank you if you manage it.

Akash: Path of the Five

Ignatius/Aurora body painting – Ignatius asks Aurora if he can practice the art of body painting on her! Body-painting ensues, and also kissing. Aurora flirts with her man, her man loses his composure several times. Post-game, maybe post-wedding but I haven't decided that yet.

Andromeda Six

“I loved you, Vexx.” – f!Traveller/Vexx. You know that one scene in the storage room where the Traveller is supposed to interrogate Vexx but then you have the option of making things a bit emotional? Yeah.

Post-episode 5 – Because for some reason I wanted to sit in the feeling of terror and panic after Vexx gets shot. There will be content warning tags for medical procedures. I’m undecided on whether it’ll be Vexx route or Damon route, but either way Reba has a lot of love in her heart for Vexx and she is very worried for him.

Wereshark Vexx – More of a general AU idea than an actual work-in-progress at this stage, but it’s horny. Safety-for-work to be determined. Also, it has “wild stallion tamed by a teenage girl” energies, but instead of an untamed herbivore it has Vexx with some kind of metamorphosing virus, and instead of an adolescent schoolkid it has 20-something Princess Reba.

Blooming Panic

“Make me.” – xyx and lovelylola experience everyone’s favourite ‘challenge your significant other in a loving but definitely not god-honouring way’ trope, with LL as the perpetrator. A series of little moments, all inspired by the appearance of that line in the actual game.

Changeling

Ewan/Nora Build-A-Bear – Ewan and Nora go to the aforementioned store. Nora is an agent of chaos and somehow manages to create the perfect Ewan Bear despite the fact that there is no such real-life thing as Headless Teddy (trust me, I scoured the website. But you bet I'm making it work). I’m having maybe too much fun using the Build-A-Bear creation process as a narrative device.

Dragon Age

A Weakened Mind – Fenris/f!Hawke. DA2 Fenris + a combination of canonical spells that have an effect which is similar to the Feeblemind spell from D&D 5e = pain.

Gang AU – f!Cousland/Zevran. It's an Origins gang AU. She has bits of a fic but no plot, your honour.

Post-Enemies Among Us – Hawke being like “Ah. Mind control. These are the continued consequences of me not minding my own business. We love purposely not sleeping in case we were going to have nightmares.”

Twinblades – f!Cousland/Zevran. You know how in Awakening the flavour text for these default daggers equipped to a rogue Warden is like “these belonged to some guy from Nevarra for like a day but then they were nicked”? Here’s a concept: Zevran took them for his babygirl (gender neutral). Unclear how integral the daggers are to the plot as a whole, but they are very important to the beginning of the fic.

Fire Emblem

“Who is that?” – Gaius/f!Robin. An expansion on Robin and Gaius meeting in the Shepherds’ base camp, because in game it’s (I think?) Chrom who has to speak to him to recruit him, and I was like “But how does the tactician who now has to fit another moving part into the battle plan feel about this? And how does Gaius feel about the strange-looking but also very pretty tactician?”

Jeralt is Dead – Pain! Grief! Academy phase Byleth struggling to process her father’s death, the Blue Lions not knowing how to help her process it!

Kill Miklan again – Sylvain/f!Byleth. Post-game, some mage somewhere finds TOWSITD’s necromancy handbook and goes “You know what we should do with this? Bring back the Ashen Demon’s husband’s piece of garbage brother. Great plan, team! We won’t be hunted down and made to pay for our crimes at all!”

Lorenz/Marianne first date jitters – Post-game. Lorenz Hellman Gloucester puts his big boy boots on and woos Marianne von Edmund, like the newly-realised Actually A Genuinely Nice Man that emotional maturity has helped him become. We all clap for him.

Student Byleth AU – More of a collection of ficlets than one whole piece, but all of them feature Byleth as a student at the Academy rather than one of the teachers.

Sylvain/f!Byleth Hanahaki AU – The general storyline probably speaks for itself, but I ask the additional question: what if mutual pining meant double the sickness?

Sylvain/f!Byleth modern jousting performer AU – Sylvain Jose ‘I embody the Showy Horseman knightly archetype’ Gautier works for an entertainment company which I’ve described in my notes as being Medieval Times mixed with WWE. He flirts with Byleth ‘I’m a world-famous pop star but I also like swords so I have a season pass to the fake joust show’ Eisner a lot. Also, Jeralt says ‘canoodling’.

Sylvain/f!Byleth smut – There’s a bit of background to set the scene, but not much active plot once things get rolling. Sylvain has been in Fhirdiad, Margravine Byleth has been running the show in Gautier. Reunion time!

The Cat – I’m not sure if I want to finish this one, but the gist of it is that in academy phase there is this one very large tomcat which has decided to hang out in the Blue Lions classroom, and he’s in a bit of a state because he’s unwell. I’ve mostly been pantsing so I don’t know what the fuller plot is, but there will be a time jump to war phase and the big fluffy guy will come back looking strong and hearty. Something along the lines of ‘parallels between Dimitri Then and Dimitri Now, but with contrast provided by the physical wellbeing of a domesticated feline’.

The Grand Cathedral of Garreg Mach – Azure Moon. Getting fancy with the metaphors again to compare the absolute state the cathedral is in at the beginning of war phase to the absolute state of one Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd during the same time period. The cathedral gets repaired as time passes; Dimitri's mental health improves with some care and patience from those around him. Hints of Sylveth.

Greedfall

“Governor’s legates aren’t quite the same as Naut captains, my love.” – A fun little drabble about my De Sardet and Vasco having morning snuggle time and debating whether she really needs to get out of bed and attend to paperwork right this minute.

Dearest Constantin – De Sardet writing a letter that she'll never send, because she killed her cousin for the greater good.

Hades

“Am I a monster, Achilles?” – Zagreus asks Achilles for some good old-fashioned father-figure-brand reassurance because he just got his ass beat by Theseus, a.k.a. The hero king who did all of that neat stuff with killing bad guys and was granted Elysium, and his self-esteem is not high.

Hypnos/Zagreus smut – Barely any background and no plot to speak of.

Mass Effect

“Tell me something about you, Commander Shepard.” – Garrus/f!Shepard. We start during 1, with Garrus querying Shepard in an effort to foster a positive relationship between them, because at that stage he’s one of exactly two non-humans on the Normandy and it seems wise to make friends with the commanding officer. ‘Tell me something’ quickly becomes A Thing That The Commander And Garrus Do at incidental points across the trilogy.

“There are aliens on deck.” – My humble contribution to the classic ‘Shepard squares up with someone being less than polite about her alien crew’ scenario, but this time the perpetrator is also a Normandy crew member. No xenophobes allowed on this starship.

Alchera – The requisite expansion on Hackett’s assignment to collect dog tags and sight out a spot for a memorial on that one particular ice planet where Shepard, y’know. Died.

Banner of the First Regiment – Inspired by the turians in Purgatory who are looking for the titular artefact in 3. Shepard finds the banner and returns it, as one does when one is doing a playthrough where one is trying to do all possible assignments, and the officer buys her a drink, which turns into a drinking contest. As I was brainstorming ideas for it, I started drawing connections between the implied situation of the First and the Tennyson poem The Charge of the Light Brigade, so that will probably have some significance.

Everyone has heard of Commander Shepard. – From the POV of an as-yet nameless and faceless Alliance marine assigned to the Normandy after the Reapers first hit Earth. It’s had a few facelifts since I first started drafting it, but the core of it is a third-person perspective of Shepard at the beginning of 3 with a few hops forward in time up to and including the pickup of a certain turian sniper at Menae.

Garrus is… – Garrus/f!Shepard. The classic ‘using repetition to show something evolving while having a constant at its core’ technique.

Hell hath no fury like Shepard defending her crew. – Another one with not much of a plot yet; thus far it’s pretty much just some sections of one scene and that’s it. A rando on the Presidium starts trash talking the Normandy crew, and my dear darling Aspen Shepard reacts as any self-respecting Australian does when overhearing baseless trash talk about her friends: immediately starts shit with said rando about it.

Home – Garrus/f!Shepard. Truly disgusting fluff about Shepard having a bricks-and-mortar home that she owns for the first time in her life, thanks to Anderson’s gift. Kind of a collection of moments rather than a full narrative, but what’s important is that one of them involves Shepard asking Garrus to move in.

Lost But Not Forgotten – ME Andromeda. If you’ve played Andromeda then you’ll probably recognise the title because I lifted it directly from the questline about searching for the turian Pathfinder. In my outline notes I’ve written, and I quote, “I wonder if Ryder and Avitus would trauma or grief bond about them being Pathfinders for their respective races, and having become such Specifically because the previous Pathfinders intentionally put Ryder and Avitus before themselves because they loved them”, so that's more or less the gist, with a side of ‘Avitus was Macen’s second, but Ryder was just Alec’s kid’.

Post-EC ending – Shepard lives (😤) and, after a period of recovery and a lengthy negotiation during which she has every right to ensure her requests are met with no conditions, she gets a cruiser and a small crew and goes off to do something I haven’t plotted yet because all I have written is the emotionally compromising first chapter, post-game, from Garrus’ POV.

Sole Survivor – Everyone loves a good bit of pre-canon speculation on what kind of hell a character went through during XYZ backstory element, right?

Monster Hunter

Rider and Kyle being enemies – In context of the story progression of Wings of Ruin, the main character and Kyle resolve their differences fairly quickly. But what if they were only allies for the sake of saving the world, didn’t actually like each other or get along outside of world-saving tasks (although Kyle makes a half-hearted effort at first), and continued to butt heads for several years afterwards?

Pokémon

Crime de la Crime – Guzma/OC. The providence of this one can be traced directly back to the fateful day I entered my local cinema and watched ‘Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn)’, to use that masterpiece’s full government name. Chaotic ‘hero versus… villain, question mark?’ AU, where Casey is the super-powered Spitfire and Guzma is the master thief known as Shadow.

First date – Guzma/OC. This is by no means their ‘canonical’ first date, as it were; it might end up being so, but I need to write out everything that comes before it in their timeline of events (specifically We Are Kings and the Kalos arc) to be confident it would go this way. As it stands, Guzma takes advantage of the fact that Casey thinks the occasion is special enough for a dress rather than her usual shorts-and-a-graphic-tee fare and makes a dinner reservation somewhere fancy enough that reservations are encouraged.

Grim Reaper AU – Guzma/OC. Fairly self-explanatory. Guzma is the Reaper, Casey is a recently deceased whose soul Guzma is responsible for safely escorting to the afterlife. I couldn’t just let it be simple, though, and there’s action and adventure involved as well as some ‘past lives’ flashback shenaniganry.

We Are Kings – Guzma/OC. The piece of writing which explores how Casey and Guzma get to know each other and catch feelings. Follows the broad timeline of Sun/Moon. One of the things about this one is that I started drafting it during a time when I was dealing with Stuff, so I used the original version as a way to vent my frustrations. Casey was only sparsely fleshed out at the time, but she’s much more so these years on, so I’ve been wanting to give the fic a major overhaul—i.e., demolishing the whole thing and maybe keeping a few scenes that would still work in an entirely reimagined version of the piece that allows Casey to shine more as a developed character rather than just as a Face for Audrey’s Self-Insert Guzma Fantasies. I had been posting the original version on AO3 until I decided to rewrite, and it’s still accessible (incomplete) Here. I might even leave it up once I get the reboot sorted, just as a fun point of reference.

Kalos University arc – Guzma/OC. I’m making myself keep this mostly in the planning phase because how it pans out is directly related to how We Are Kings goes. But, in summary: Casey, having figured out roughly what she wants out of life, decides to do her undergrad at an entirely made-up university campus back in Kalos. Guzma stays in Alola. It’s kind of a ‘long-distance situationship’ thing.

ME Casey AU – Vega/OC as well as Guzma/OC (with a side helping of @fightfortheusers' Makai), so it really could have gone either under this heading or Mass Effect, but she was a Pokémon OC first, so that’s where I’ve decided to keep the folder. Another which is more a collection of scenarios than a fic, but there is this whole thing about Casey being one of the Normandy crew members abducted by the Collectors in 2 which could probably be refined into a proper work with the amount of content it has.

Paramore The Only Exception – Guzma/OC. Requisite ‘but what if it wasn’t mutual pining’ fic, as per the angst fic writer playbook. One-sided, with Casey as the ‘side’.

Plumeria glances at her – Plumeria/OC. Just a Plumeria/Casey drabble, because Casey is my little bisexual angel baby.

Small-time Rock Band AU – Guzma/OC. Me being a dirty rotten former 5SOS diehard, I wouldn't be myself if I didn't have at least one of this flavour of AU. Casey is the guitarist in a locally renowned band of which Piers Swordandshield and Olivia Sunandmoon are also members. Guzma is in the audience one night. That's as far as I've got so far, but if I know my own mind, I'll come back to it shortly.

That being said – Raihan/OC. This one stars my Galar OC, Lottie. There is some sort of red carpet event pre-relationship, and the gym challenger whom Lottie manages (@fightfortheusers' Matteo, icyww) has managed to wrangle her an invitation to said event as Raihan's plus-one. She wants to strangle the kid, it's very funny.

Redacted Audio

Inversion – Milo/Sweetheart. The contents are pretty self-evident; I’m subjecting everyone to Inversion fic. While what I’ve drafted thus far is from Sweetheart’s POV, I think it would be fun and not at all upsetting to include the rest of the listeners whose partners are involved in the storyline. The opening will be the aforementioned Sweetheart POV, including them getting a situation report and proceeding to shit themselves in worry without reprieve until they see that Milo wound up on the outside of the ward.

Helping your feisty werewolf boyfriend shift again – Milo/Sweetheart. This one came to me before the Inversion fic, so I guess I’m working backwards? Stay tuned next year for Freelancer & Caelum baking fic, if the trend continues. With this one the intent is to put an actual written voice to how Sweetheart might have reacted to Milo “I am at my limit” Greer having a very understandable breakdown about his damaged core and unresponsive shifter magic.

When The Night Comes

“Gods above and below.” – Omen/Alkar/Hunter. Zeina has been out of town on a solo assignment, but the day she was supposed to get back has come and gone with neither word nor sign of her. Alkar is freaking out, Omen is only freaking out a bit less. But oh, what’s this? Here she comes, stumbling through the woods concussed and bleeding profusely! Basically, it’s an injury recovery fic.

The novelty hasn’t quite worn off – Omen/Alkar/Hunter smut. Without going into too much detail for the sake of the timeline, this work is Zeina being disgustingly in love with her partners while also trying very hard not to give them the satisfaction of having reduced her to begging.

Zeina dress – Omen/Alkar/Hunter. It’s midwinter, there isn’t much work to do because most creatures dislike the cold, and Zeina is losing it a bit so she decides to make herself a pretty outfit to cope.

Honourable mention for media where the fic ideas I have are languishing in the brainstorming stage: Errant Kingdom.

There are also. Several original works. I might make a separate post for those, if anyone is interested in more of my half-baked fictional projects?

@ejunkiet

[belphieslilcow]

tag your obey me spoilers you heathens

[lil-kyloben]

I posted 12,476 times in 2022

That's 70 more posts than 2021!

10 posts created (0%)

12,466 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@zackaran

@kainamite15

@commanderauri

@pixalpeach

@imakemywings

I tagged 795 of my posts in 2022

#jfo - 93 posts

#tf2 - 48 posts

#omfg - 40 posts

#overwatch - 20 posts

#fave - 13 posts

#me - 12 posts

#my things - 11 posts

#kenobi spoilers - 6 posts

#tbobf spoilers - 4 posts

#man - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#that those who can work will be funneled off world onto these colonies so that they can continue to grow the human race elsewhere and leave

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Miss Gwendoline looks divine in Wednesday- the pin-up look suits her!

(Also, if there’s a season 2 I personally want Domhnall Gleeson to show up, maybe as Gwen’s lover)

Ohhh I need to watch it then!! I've seen some pictures of her in the series but haven't had time to sit and watch it yet. And oh yes Mr.Gleeson! I miss him 😢

2 notes - Posted December 3, 2022

#4

Me: I just got back from Star Wars Celebration 2022! Loved it! And most everyone was kind and respectful to each others opinions and excitement! Let me reblog some stuff onto my tumblr about it!

Tumblr Heathens: *calling for cancelations, screaming like Darth Maul looking for Kenobi over the smallest inconsistency, even wanting certain actors/actresses/creators to DIE irl*

Me: FFS

4 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

#3

2, 8, 26 for SWTOR asks!

Oh thank you for this!

2. Favorite class has to be the Imperial Agent, not because of how they fight, but the story line! It is so intriguing and it has so many twists and turns in it? Plus the male character's voice is so smooth I just love him. Least favorite class? I haven't actually played all the classes yet (even though I've been playing for the last 5 years, I take long breaks between my playthroughs lol) but I know the Trooper story line was a chore to get thru, love the character though and Elara Dorne is one of the best romances hands down. Oh let me show you pictures of my agent and trooper though!

See the full post

5 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

#2

Do you ever just get so angry at something that has absolutely no impact on your day to day life and if you simply ignored it all would be fine? But your brain just cannot let it go and it's existence alone is like a slap in the face? Cause that is the current mood.

5 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So I just got done reading Barriss' story from the book Star Wars Stories of Jedi and Sith. Her chapter was titled A Jedi's Duty. Without any spoilers I'll say this:

Karen Strong captured an amazing embodiment of our beloved Mirialan. She captured her feeling and mannerisms perfectly.

Barriss truly was a teenager that got fucked over and her mental health is just... gone (we all figured this it's just been confirmed).

ALSO, she fidgets XD she likes to trace the heart on her belt to calm herself.

I bought the book specifically for her story so I can't speak for the rest of the tales but hers was just a good story. Barriss needs a hug, always.

25 notes - Posted May 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[greenconverses]

ah, pjo fandom wank. right on schedule. 

[blokestotheleft]

Me: *enjoying things casually because I have a job, side projects, and do my own podcast stuff and can’t just immediately watch/listen to my fave pieces of media when they release* I’ll get to it soon, but I have a lot on my plate rn!

every fucker on this hellsite: PENUMBRA SPOILERS! SU SPOILERS! ALL THE SPOILERS! WE WONT TAG IT! Hey FUCK YOU SPECIFICALLY!

[elf-hollow]

You Would Not Believe How Many Tags You Need To Block To Avoid Pokemon Leaks!

[shuckinbeanz]

SCREAM 2 (Yan!GhostFace!Baku)

He also comes maskless! So check out his spoopy mug! 👻

warnings/notes: NSFW, college!au, planned rape & drugging, Katsuki is insane, Katsuki is a yandere, Katsuki's POV, nerdy reader, death, blood, gore, stalking, and murder. 👀 There's some reader POV, and I've warned before, but I'll warn again; the reader is fruitloopy because this is a consent blog ✨

~Masterlist~

Underage characters are Aged Up!

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

This was originally supposed to be a tl;dr fic, so I cut back unnecessary parts(who cares how the minor bg characters croak ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ we're here for the opening, the ending, and the lovin'), but there still is movie spoilers/references. Enjoy! (not me shamelessly promoting the other parts 😂)

tags: @parker-natasha

He followed that fucking pervert here into the club. He could enter easily; because the majority of club-goers were dressed as Ghostface, due to the recent string of Ghostface murders. What he didn't expect, was you to be in the club, dancing with your friends. He couldn't stop staring. He might as well have hearts for eyes, with how fucking drop-dead gorgeous you were, all snazzed up and pretty. You were like a Deity, gracing all these plebeians with your grace, and damn, look at you move. He was counting his blessings from where he was because he was a fucking heathen--a heathen by choice, to protect your beauty. The night was still young, and he had every intention to thoroughly enjoy the show. After some time, you and your friends went to the bar for more drinks. A break from the dance floor. Without a thought, he found himself sauntering up to you. He could see that bastard coming up too, but once he noticed the much larger man in costume-Katsuki-coming up, too, he decided to turn tail. Katsuki grinned from behind his mask. Fucking bastards should stay where the fuck they belong.

You were giggling with your friends. He couldn't hear much over the boom of the speakers, but it was something about a failed project, night out on the town, and blowing some steam. "Hey, gorgeous." he finds himself saying because damn were you small compared to him. You look up to him. In the back of his mind, he was expecting fear, because of his 6'1 well-sculpted physique, but no. You looked him up and down in awe, and holy shit, he could see it in your gaze. That cute, coquettish smile, which looked even better in real life than it did in his dreams. You, the object of his obsession, were staring at him like he was a full fucking course meal. One of your equally as star-struck friends manages to nudge you out of your stupor, and you glance at them, your group erupting in laughter. "Hi, handsome~" you sing, swaying your shoulders cutely.

It didn't take long for a spark to ignite, as he conversed with you-played the play of getting to know you. After all, how could he not like what you like? Dislike what you dislike? But still, on occasion, he'd put his two cents in, and you'd react incredibly well to that. You were a spitfire. Yes, you tended to stay on the down-low, building books and your dream around yourself, but when it came to it, you were stubborn. You were independent. And now that he was finally, finally, talking to you in person...he was falling deeper and deeper for you. If he was willing to beat up perverts that molested you without your consent, hell, if he was even willing to kill sick bastards after you, he sure as hell is ready to make the whole fucking world topple and burn, just for you. All you'd need to do, was look at him with your cute eyes, and say 'Please?' and he'd do it.

"Mind if I take them off ya for a bit?" he asks your entourage, and they erupt in laughter-he didn't miss your cute gasp. 'Go on ahead!' and 'They're all yours.' came from them. "Okay, but first, I gotta freshen up, alright? Geez, guys." you shook your head playfully at them, before turning back to him. "I'll be back in a bit, big guy." you say to him coquettishly, pressing your hand on his chest, silently promising a good night. "So sit tight, alright?~" you smoothly slid off the stool, leaving him frozen in place. He was glad he was wearing a mask because holy hell his face felt like it was on fire. And the goosebumps, and the shiver up and down his spine. "Damn..." he huffed.

"So, Kats, was it?" one of your friends asked as he turned to follow you with his eyes. "Yeah." he replies gruffly. "You seem like a nice guy." they say as he scans through the crowd for a certain bastard. "You sound really genuine, too. Like, seriously, that shit's rare in a club setting." they say. Soon enough he spots the bastard. The fucker was looking your way. "Somethin' tells me you really like our Y/N." they teased. He snorts. "No shit, sherlock." he replies, glaring at that fucker through his mask. His reply earns a laugh from them, but they quickly settle down. "They've been through a lotta shit. So take care of them, okay?" they say, and he could sense the warning in their tone. When he saw the bastard start moving, he turned to your friends, putting a thumb under the chin of his mask to briefly show them his face, "Tell ya what, if I make 'em cry, I'll letcha whoop my ass." he told them with a genuine smile, pulling back down his mask and turning around in time to miss their shell shocked expressions. Because if he made you cry, he'd be more than willing to bend over backward and take a beating to make you smile again. "Now, I'll need to excuse myself a moment or two." he says after situating his mask and hoodie, before moving through the crowd after his target, rage spiking in his veins. He hadn't noticed what your friends were saying.

'Holy shi--' 'Isn't that the dude they li...'

All he could think was; kill that fucker. The bastard was evidently still wanting to enact his scheme. But Katsuki wouldn't fucking let it happen. He sped up his pace, closing the distance easily. "Hey, buddy." Katsuki reaches out to the shorter man's shoulder, coming into his personal space, playing buddy-buddy as he bent to speak into the man's ear, keeping a knife skillfully and discreetly pressed against his back. "I suggest you don't make a fucking scene, bro." he threatened lowly. The man gulped, then nodded slowly. "Good...let's have a li'l chat out back, shall we?" Katsuki chuckles. 'Look, man, I--' "Awe, c'mon, buddy old pal." Katsuki rasps, interrupting the man. "Just wanna talk." he says. 'O-Okay, dude. Whatever you say...?' he chuckles nervously. "Glad to hear~" Katsuki hums, guiding him out back, into the darkness, and a few blocks away in a deserted alleyway. What Katsuki didn't notice, is that he'd fucked up.

Katsuki was on a one-track mind of killing this bastard, and he failed to notice you following him from a distance.

~~~

Curiosity got the best of you. When you spotted a familiar Adonis figure hovering over a random dude suspiciously, you couldn't resist following. The tall man was very suspicious to say the least. He was tall, well built, like the man you always dreamed about. His voice was as equally gruff as that man when you'd pick a spot to study just to hear his voice whenever he was hanging out with his friends. But your crush was way out of your league, he was a jock, he was popular, athletic, had above-average grades, and everybody in school either wanted him or wanted to be him. And you? You were an unattractive nerd. You had a dream, and you'd be willing to sacrifice just about anything to fulfill it.

And when that tall figure approached you out of your group of friends, with so many similarities to the guy you've been pining after for ages now, you thought that maybe you could get over your pitiful one-sided crush. Who's name you had written down on a dildo you had stashed away in your closet.

Katsuki Bakugo.

You mentally tamp down your dirty thoughts with a red face, following the two in earnest. After a few blocks, you spy them going into an alleyway, and not a millisecond later, you heard a thud and a crunch of plastic followed by a resounding metallic clatter. "I know your plan, fuckface!" you could hear a gruff voice shout. There was a more muted voice that was incoherent from where you were, but the familiar gruff voice cancels the other man out. "Ain't no fucking use playing the stupid ticket, because I heard it with my own fucking ears, asshole." he said. "Think you can slip Y/N a fucking roofie before draggin' 'em God knows fucking where to RAPE THEM?!" you could hear from the volatile snarl that came from him, that he was pissed.

You can't help but put your hands over your mouth at what was said. Your mind was reeling, you could barely hear what was being done over the rush of blood in your ears. You lean on the cement wall, "I'll fuckin' beatcha!" 'Oof!' THUD. THUNK. "Listen here," he growled. "I had fun and all, killin' off your buddies in on it," he said. You slid down as everything comes to light.

"But I ain't fucking satisfied!" he roared.

He, Kats, he called himself when he introduced himself to you in the club...

"Not before I beat you to death." Kats growled. You could hear a muffled 'No' from the man who'd planned to rape you, you could hear Kats beating him black and blue. "No?" he genuinely faked a choked sob.

He killed the people that planned to rape you. He was the serial killer Ghostface at large that's been going around town lately.

"You know damn well you wouldn't listen if Y/N said that! You sick fucking bastard!!" Kats roared again, huffing and puffing from the exertion of psychical violence. After several moments you could hear him laugh maniacally, but you could also hear his tears, his hollowness. His exhaustion. But most of all, his worry. "Oh..." Kats huffs.

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, too.

"My poor..." he said.

Tears of gratitude. Because he'd saved you from becoming a victim of rape. From that trauma. From possibly never being able to look at men the same way, ever again.

"Poor..." he sighs.

Carefully, you ease yourself up onto your feet.

"Sweet thing." the nickname-however delusional it might have sounded to anyone else-tickled your skin with goosebumps. You could hear his sincerity. His affection. Loud and clear. Very carefully, you made your way closer to the alleyway. As quietly as a mouse.

'Kats--u-ki---plea--' you hear the telltale grunts of someone being choked. Katsuki? The name of your crush bought you the bravery to peep around the corner.

And there you could see them. Him. Without his mask. He'd lost it during the scuffle. Black hood down. The Katsuki Bakugo, the man you've been crushing on, straddling the chest of your would-be rapist, one large hand around that bastard's throat, gripping tightly. The other gripping a kitchen knife.

The man beneath him was stubborn; gurgling and grunting, attempting to breathe. But Katsuki acted like a stone wall; unflinching at his weakening attempts to free himself. "Damn, you're stubborn, aren't'cha?" Katsuki grunts, looking back down at his victim, applying even more pressure. "Just die already, you prick." he growls, grinning down him like the fucking Joker. After several more moments that felt like hours, the man being choked finally goes completely limp. "Good...good..." Katsuki coos, still gripping the dead man's throat tightly, before setting his knife down to crack his neck, making damn well sure he was dead.>

Afterward, Katsuki heaves a heavy sigh, almost as if he were holding his breath, moving off the dead man to sit on the concrete, rubbing his face with torn gloved hands. He sighs one more time, not noticing you step into view from where you were spying on him behind a wall. "Finally, sweetheart...you're safe, now..." you could hear him rasp.

He sounded relieved. And truthfully, you were too. "I won't let anything bad happen to you..." he sighs a soft vow, looking down, hands combing through his hair, elbows propped on his knees. He groans, remembering something, reaching out to get his knife, "Fuck, I gotta get back to yo--" his gaze being drawn to your figure. He tenses up, eyes widening fearfully. "This--" he chokes out, panicking. He forgoes the knife, and instead jumps up to step over the dead body, to move to you. You felt tears begin to roll down your cheeks. "This isn't what it looks li--?!" he's ended abruptly by you closing the distance and wrapping your arms around him.

"Thank you...'tsuki..." you muster in a small voice, gratefully. The giant man you were holding was quivering like a leaf in your arms. He sniffs wetly, and you hold onto him even tighter; trying to comfort him.

Moments later you could feel him wrap his arms around you, and for several minutes, you two held onto each other for dear life. "We gotta go." you tell him, pulling away to caress his cheek, and he leans into your palm with a minute nod. "We gotta go, okay? You killed someone. So we gotta go--we...can go to my place." you say, nodding back, and he pulls away to gather his mask and knife, perusing the area for anything that would get linked to him. Suddenly, the alleyway lights up, and he turns around to see you on the phone. Seeing the fear and panic in his eyes, you reach out to him as he hurries over to you. "Shh, 'tsuki. I gotta tell my friends I decided to bring you home, okay?" you tell him, stroking his bicep, turning the phone for him to see what you type out to your group chat to reassure him.

'Hey guys remember Kats? Well guess what N/N is bringing him home tonight 😋'

You could feel his tense form relax behind you. You take his arm, and lead the way to your humble abode, your mind reeling and heart thrumming anxiously over what was gonna happen when you and he were there.