#what an unimaginably Fang thing to do

[orcelito]

sorry to anyone looking forward to the discacc update, bard multiclass thoughts have taken over my brain

ive taken note of everything im getting for bard multiclass tho & mostly picked out my spells. so . i can probably focus on posting the chapters again lol

[dasha-aibo]

A big rant about the Russian opposition

Well, you said you wanted it, so here it is.

Be warned: this will be long, rambly and unfocused. But I will try to split it into several parts.

Where it all began. The 90s.

Following the collapse of the USSR, Russian opposition was left in a weird state. Big Soviet-era opposition figures like Yeltsin now held all the power, yet, at the same time, the government was full of ex-Soviet party members. See, ol' Boris didn't want to do a lustration. I don't have his exact motivations, but, if I was put at a gunpoint and forced to guess, it was because Russia, even without all the states that left was a BIGHUGE country and needed people who knew how it all worked. And all of them happened to be party apparatchicks.

Yeltsin also left the KGB eseentially untouched. This is not well-known, but KGB were actually supportive of the fall of the USSR. Now, late-Gorby KGB is not the same as KGB during Stalin or even Khruschev. They were de-fanged and forced under too much supervision. Which they didn't like. So they were allowed to change their name, had some reshuffling and re-emerged as FSB. Ostensibly, just there to fight crime and protect the state, no disappearing people allowed anymore.

This is important to understand as we go forward.

90s were, overall, a time of terrible, terrible poverty and unimaginably, unprecedented freedom in Russia. If you knew what to do and was willing to do it, you could become a millionaire overnight. If you didn't have a particuarly marketable set of skills or was just unwilling to adapt, you'd be on the brink of starvation. And that's me not even touching the organized and disorganized crime which was absolutely rampant.

Then there was the privatization. Essentially, Yegor Gaidar, the prime minister during Yeltsin's first term decided that the best course of action was to take this lumbering 70-yo communist system and crash it head-first into capitalism. It was even called "shock therapy".

Now, in hindisght, we can say that his policies very much saved Russia and lead to economic prosperity later on. But man, shit was HARD for regular people. Especially hordes of state workers.

His most infamous project, however, was the privatization. Essentially, since EVERYTHING in USSR was state-owned and we were moving towards a capitalist system, someone needed to become the owner of all this state property. Privatize it, so to say. Of course, regular people could privatize their cars and apartments, which most everyone did. But the big bucks were in all the factories and natural resource mines. And this was done in the most ass-backwards way possible. People with connections got to bid on very lucrative property in the dead of the night with only one announcement in the local newspaper nobody read. Shit like that.

Everyone disliked that.

This is how Russia became saddled with it's giant oligarchy class.

I promise all of this is relevant.

Another really important thing happened in the 90s: the 1996 election. Yeltsin wanted a second term and he REALLY didn't want commies, his main opposition, to win. So he played dirty. Unlike what many later said, he didn't outright steal the elections. He did, however, do everything in his power as a prez to ensure a victory.

Everyone disliked that. Which is how we got Putin.

But 90s also saw the rise of several important opposition figures. And there really was actual freedom of speech and very little crackdown on opposition and protests. It still happened, don't get me wrong, but it was so minor compared to what's happening today, that it's barely worth mentioning. Anyway, back to opposition figures.

I will note three main one. Boris Nemtsov was the biggest - he was a favorite of Yeltsin's, was even a Deputy Prime Minister at one point and was considered as Yeltsin's heir at the same point. Things didn't work out. But he was the big face of liberals and democrats of the era. A guy who's "against everything bad and for everything good".

Then there was Mikhail Khodorkovsky. An oligarch and a philantropist, he was genuinely interested in the future of Russia and making it a big important country on the world stage through education and commerce.

Lastly, Gennady Kasparov. Yeah, the chess guy who lost to a computer. He wasn't really political in the 90s, but I still consider him part of the "old guard".

Part 2 in a reblog, because this is getting unreadable.

[lavenderfluorite14]

A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav

Chapter 9: Derailed

Summary: The day is derailed even further, but that might be for the best.

Rating: 16+ for violence and gore. Kissing, making out.

Warnings: This chapter contains detailed descriptions of violence and gore, specifically arrow removal.

Full tag list on AO3. Read on AO3. Chapter 8. Read from the beginning.

Morale plummets in the wake of Lae’Zel’s departure. The rest of the morning is spent in silence as everyone finishes preparing for the day ahead. Even Shadowheart’s smug superiority at finally ousting Lae’Zel fades to a grim determination. Already, the hole Lae’Zel has left feels palpable.

Astarion is sure Lae’Zel will be fine out there. She is a warrior through and through. But an additional prickle of fear ripples through him at the idea that the others may leave him too. He cannot do this alone, he needs every ally he can get. 

He knew this was coming, he reminds himself. He knew Lae’Zel was always going to leave. It’s just happening earlier than expected. This is a good thing, actually. He has less competition now. And less opposition to the illithid powers. He cannot compromise that.

He had never really minded Lae’Zel’s condescension or rudeness, even when it was directed at him. Cazador had been much crueler. At least Lae'Zel was almost funny. And her passion for bloodshed had always been inspiring. He supposed he was just disappointed to see a strong ally leave over such a trifle.

Perhaps there was a tinge of worry for her as well. 

At least he knows that Tav won’t leave. Certainly not with the promise of tonight hanging between them like luscious, unpicked fruit.

Tav, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion all trudge through the forest in silence, doggedly following the billowing smoke plume that Lae’Zel had spotted earlier. Along the way Tav and Shadowheart stop to forage, gathering berries, mushrooms, and eggs from bird nests. They even find a big, juicy honeycomb. All treats Astarion can’t truly enjoy.

“Are you sure about the tadpoles, Fangs?” Karlach asks him when they are finally alone. Tav and Shadowheart are far ahead at this point, digging up what appears to be a buried chest.

“Of course I am,” Astarion insists. The tadpole set him free. He has to follow this thread. 

“Even if it means you’ll become a Mindflayer?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“But what if it does?”

He briefly imagines the pain and horror of his bones turning into jelly, his handsome face sprouting tentacles, his personality and memories siphoned away to feed the gluttonous parasite. It’s too grotesque, too unimaginable to feel like a real possibility. 

But he can imagine Cazador placing his favorite knife against the coals of a blazing fire, the searing heat guaranteeing that its blade will be horrifically painful. He can imagine Godey behind him with the pliers, laughing a deep, clacking chuckle.  

“As I have said repeatedly, that is not going to happen.”

Karlach just sighs. “Well. If you’re sure, then.”

Silence resumes. The smoke cloud looms ever larger above them. Astarion thinks he hears a Worg howl.

“I’m just asking you to be careful. Your actions affect the rest of us too. If you begin to transform-"

“I won’t transform!” he yells at her. Up ahead, Tav and Shadowheart try to look busy. “I won’t let it get that far. The idea is to control the tadpole, not become it.”

“But we don’t know if that’s even possible,” she responds. 

“But what if it is? We have to inv-” There’s something up ahead. 

Tav’s message throbs through all their minds, rife with concern. Immediately everyone reaches for their weapons.

“Finally, some action,” Karlach growls, grabbing her sword.

“Finally, I agree with you,” Astarion replies, unsheathing his daggers. 

Let’s carefully approach-

Karlach charges ahead, bursting through the underbrush. She streaks ahead of them through the forest, a comet made flesh. They all race to catch up to her, nimbly dodging rocks, branches, roots, and all manner of forest debris as they hurtle towards danger. Soon they begin to hear the clangs of swords, the twangs of bowstrings, and they feel the unmistakable thrum of the Weave. There’s fighting up ahead, in the town square of the abandoned village.

What remains of a band of goblin marauders have cornered something against a wall. Whatever it is has put up quite a fight: goblin carcasses litter the ground in pools of dark, sticky blood. Astarion reflexively licks his lips. 

“Kill it!” a goblin booyahg cackles as she conjures a poisonous green cloud. She unleashes the magic on her target, which doubles over in a fit of hacking coughs. “Skva!” Lae’Zel barks between wheezes. A worg leaps at her, sinking its jaws into the hard muscle of her thigh. Lae’Zel snarls in pain, rapping its head with the pommel of her sword. The beast releases her, dazed, its jowls dripping blood. As Lae’Zel shifts into a new stance to compensate for her injured leg an arrow strikes her thigh, missing her plate by centimeters and embedding itself into her other leg. She screams in Githyanki, but somehow finds the force to keep standing. Multiple arrows have pierced her, jutting out of her flesh like pins in a horrifying pincushion. Blood drips from a cut on her brow, where a rock had struck her face, pooling in her eyes. 

“Oi! Meatheads!” Tav roars, her mockery grabbing their attention.  “The frog is ours! Back off, or you’ll be joining it!” one of the goblins yells. Lae’Zel uses the distraction to strike, knocking the nearest goblin prone. 

All hells break loose. Karlach jumps into the fray, cleaving the worg in half with her sword. Astarion shimmies up a decaying roof, crouching low as he surveys the fight. He silently looses arrow after arrow, picking off goblins from his vantage point. There’s another booyahg perched on a nearby gable and Astarion quickly dispatches him with a clean shot to the neck, sending him plummeting to the stones below with a sickening thud. A goblin slashes at Lae’Zel but Tav grasps her with Hold Person, freezing her in place. Lae’Zel seizes the moment, chopping off her head with a clean sweep of her blade. The goblin band is no match for all of them, together. 

“Lae’Zel! Are you alright?” Tav calls out to her as the last goblin falls.

Lae’Zel does not answer. She briefly wobbles for a moment, blinking blood out of her golden eyes.  Then she swoons, hard. Karlach dives to catch her but Lae’Zel’s head strikes the cobblestones, knocking her out cold. Shadowheart rushes forward, her blue healing magic flickering at her fingertips. They all stand back as Shadowheart works to save Lae’Zel, watching as she feverishly casts her magic. They may hate each other, but that doesn’t mean that Shadowheart would let Lae’Zel die like this. 

“Lae’Zel better live through this,” Karlach murmurs. She has given Shadowheart the most space, ever conscious of her burning engine.

“She’ll be fine, darling. She’s too tough to let a couple of goblins get to her,” Astarion hand-waves. She won’t die. She can’t die.

“Tav!” Shadowheart calls frantically over her shoulder. Tav rushes over, her hands starting to glow with her own lesser healing magic. The two begin working in tandem: Tav props Lae’Zel’s head up so Shadowheart can carefully pour a healing potion down her throat. Lae’Zel groans, her eyes flickering open in a haze of pain. 

“Astarion!” Tav cries. Astarion dashes over, crouching at her side. “You have the best dexterity. We need you to help excise these arrows,” she explains. “I’ll walk you through it. Just do as I say, and everything will be fine,” Shadowheart assures him. “I can push this one through. But these two are pretty shallow, you will need to rip them out of her. I can’t finish healing her until they’ve been removed,” Shadowheart instructs. 

“That will make it worse!” Astarion frets.

“Not with goblin arrows. They’re just simple metal spikes, they don’t have the fancy head. You’ll still need to be quick though, so they can heal her before she bleeds out,” Karlach explains. “Please Astarion, just do it,” Tav pleads.

Tav gently supports the arrow shaft, holding it still. The shaft wiggles, which is a good sign. It hasn’t struck bone. He surveys Lae’Zel’s thigh, making note of the two arrows he will need to remove in rapid succession. Delicately but firmly, he grasps the shaft near the root. Lae’Zel swears thickly but Tav quietly soothes her, casting Calm Emotions. Blood bubbles forth from her flesh as he quickly rips the arrow out. The urge to bite almost overwhelms him, but Tav swoops in with a rag to staunch the bleeding before he can lose himself. Lae’Zel writhes in pain but Shadowheart does her best to hold her down. Karlach hovers over them, burning too fiercely to safely help.

They repeat the grisly process, removing all the arrows from Lae’Zel’s body. Lae’Zel screams, she swears, she twists in pain, but she does not complain. The last one is too deep, so Shadowheart snaps the shaft and swiftly pushes the arrow through her thigh, forcing it out the other side. When the horrible work is done, Karlach passes Shadowheart a Greater Healing potion, which Lae’Zel gulps down. Shadowheart stands up, wiping the sweat from her brow. Tav stays crouched, casting Prestidigitation to clean the blood and viscera from Lae’Zel’s prone form. Lae’Zel tries to stand but Karlach moves over her. “Hold it, soldier. Your wounds are closed but you are not fit to move,” she says. Lae’Zel chks.  “She’ll live, but she needs to rest.” Shadowheart declares. “And so do I. I’m almost completely out of magic now.”  Tav swears under her breath.

“I could still accompany you to the goblin camp, but I’ll only have my cantrips,” Shadowheart adds. Tav stands slowly so as to not disturb Lae’Zel, then kicks angrily at a nearby tuft of grass. “As much as I’d like to kick some goblin butt, I’m not going into enemy territory without another healer,” Karlach insists.

“Nor I,” Tav agrees. “Not if there’s as many goblins as I suspect.” They all glance up at the billowing smoke cloud. Lae’Zel was right, the camp is just beyond the ridge.

“Well, at least this was fun,” Astarion says. Karlach wraps Lae’Zel in a blanket from her pack, then hoists her up into her arms, gently cradling her. 

“Let’s get this one back to camp, yeah?” Karlach suggests. 

“Put me down this instant,” Lae’Zel demands. She squirms indignantly. “I am Lae’Zel of K’liir, not some hatchling.”

“And right now you are recovering from some serious injuries,” Tav says. “We’re going back to camp so we can all re-coup.”

“You tell me if it gets too hot, ok?” Karlach says. Lae’Zel grunts. 

“Were you anyone else I would strike you down for such disrespect,” she grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah, we can fight about it after you rest,” Karlach teases.

“As fierce as you are, darling, you shouldn’t run off like that. We were quite worried about you,” Astarion gently scolds her. Lae'Zel glowers at him but she does not rebuff his chastisement. Perhaps they really are growing on her after all.

As they walk, Lae'Zel eventually settles into Karlach's strong arms. If Astarion didn't know better, she almost seems content there.

Tav falls into step beside him. “Good job today,” she says. She gives his arm a quick, affectionate squeeze. The contact sends a jolt of something through him. He isn’t sure if it’s pleasant or not, but he does know that he loves the compliment.

“Why thank you, darling. What can I say, I’m quite skilled with my hands.”

Tav giggles at him. He leans in close to her, so the others won’t hear. “You’ll find out for yourself soon enough,” he promises. Tav playfully pushes him away, pantomiming annoyance, but once she’s done she shoots him a heated look that belies her true feelings. Astarion smirks back at her.

Tonight is the night.

~

There’s a dog waiting for them when they return. Apparently Wyll and Gale had found it wandering around the woods. It had not wanted to leave the body of its dead master, but Wyll had given it his scent anyway. According to the collar, the dog’s name was “Scratch.” Karlach and Shadowheart are delighted, but Astarion isn’t impressed. But he supposes he can live with the dog, so long as it doesn’t slobber all over his pillow.

Somehow, Wyll and Gale had also found the time to trek back to the Grove, trade for more potions and alchemy supplies, forage for food, and discover an owlbear cave. They had certainly been busy bees while they were gone. 

They all help pitch Lae’Zel’s tent, then Karlach lays Lae’Zel down gently in her bedroll, where she quickly falls asleep. They all mostly agree: if Lae’Zel wants to rejoin their group then she is welcome to stay. Shadowheart loudly objects, but she is overruled by Tav, Wyll, and Karlach. Everyone is welcome here so long as they are willing to cooperate with the group. 

Astarion knew he had bet correctly on Tav. 

They all take turns checking on Lae’Zel, even Astarion. When at last she stirs, Gale hands her a bowl of stew and Tav flits into her tent to talk. They all quietly gather nearby to eavesdrop, Gale included this time. 

Lae’Zel doesn’t apologize. She is still adamantly against using the tadpole, but she does agree to stay. Astarion intuitively understands that this is Githyanki for “thank you for saving my life.” Tav concedes that they are taking an enormous risk and agrees that if they begin to transform, Lae’Zel should kill them. Lae’Zel swears that she will see it so. Astarion frowns to himself. Even though he is confident that they can eventually control the tadpole, he still doesn’t appreciate that Tav has essentially forfeited their lives. But this seems to be an acceptable enough compromise for now.

Tav gives them all a knowing look as she exits Lae’Zel’s tent. No one tries to hide the fact that they were listening in. 

The sun is already beginning to set, so Astarion settles in and begins his grooming regimen. Tav will be expecting him soon. 

“Astarion! Can I trouble you for some help chopping these vegetables?” Gale calls to him from the makeshift kitchen he has staged by the fire. 

“I’m afraid I’m a bit busy, my dear,” he calls over. Astarion doesn’t have nail scissors or clippers, but he’s skilled enough with a knife to make do.

“Very well, then I shall come to you,” Gale announces, laying down his own knife and making his way over. As Gale approaches, Astarion wonders what he has done to deserve this. 

“I’d like to speak to you in private, if I may. About this morning,” Gale says. Astarion raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know we had more to say to each other,” Astarion says icily. “You already made your point quite clearly.”

“I actually don’t think I have,” Gale says. Oh good, more lecturing. 

“I spoke in anger and in haste this morning, and I wanted to offer my apologies. Although we have only known each other briefly, I meant what I said. I would stand at your side again, tadpole or no.”

“What?” Astarion says flatly. 

“I spoke in anger and in haste-"

“I heard you!” Astarion snaps.

“It occurred to me that you and I are not so different, in our ways,” Gale continues. “To be at the beck and call of a supernatural hunger has been challenging, even for a wizard of my acclaim.”

“That has certainly been true in my own experience,” Astarion offers slowly. 

"I know we didn’t meet under the best of circumstances and we have all been relatively slow to confide in one another. But now that we have a tad more trust and understanding, I hope that we can move forward towards curing our mutual infection,” Gale says.

“Do we have more trust in each other?” Astarion cuts in, ignoring Gale's mention of the parasite. “Because right now it seems as though the one waxing poetic about trust is keeping a pretty important secret from all of us.”

Gale sighs. “You are right, Astarion. I am asking a lot of all of you. But I assure you, now is not the right time. I promise that when the time is right, I will tell you everything,” Gale pledges.

Astarion looks him up and down, warily. “I suppose I understand better than most the need to keep a secret until the right time,” Astarion concedes.

“You’ve got to get the timing just right, I’m afraid.” Gale sighs again. “And as powerful as I am, I can't say I've been at my level best this past week. This whole adventure has been rather exhausting, if I’m being honest.”

“I quite agree,” Astarion replies.

“If also a bit invigorating,” Gale continues, conspiratorially. Astarion’s lips twitch.

“I quite agree,” Astarion smirks. 

“So! Shall we put this spat behind us?” Gale offers his hand for a gentlemanly shake.

Astarion eyes Gale’s outstretched hand. He briefly considers asking the wizard about his intentions with Tav. But his brief glimpse inside Gale’s tent lends credence to Astarion’s hunch that nothing of significance is going on between them. Wyll and Shadowheart are wrong.

Besides, they have almost no chemistry. If Tav would have rather bunked in Gale’s tent, she would be in Gale’s tent. Instead she’s promised herself to him.

“I suppose I can forgive you,” Astarion says, clasping Gale’s hand in his and giving it a firm shake. “Your words are…appreciated.”

“And is there anything that you would like to say to me?” Gale says hopefully. Astarion pauses. The cheek of this wizard.

“I suppose I can also make an effort to be more forthcoming in the future. Within reason. I do have an image to maintain, after all.”

“I can content myself with ‘an effort’ so long as it is a genuine one,” Gale chides him. “Although I hope I prove a worthy confidant,” he adds, smiling.

As Gale retreats towards Shadowheart’s tent, ostensibly on his apology tour, Astarion admits that Gale can be charming, on occasion. 

It occurs to Astarion that he hasn’t received a genuine apology like that in decades. 

~

Freshly bathed, trimmed, and coiffed, Astarion swaggers over to Tav’s tent, tapping on the flap by way of greeting. Tav beckons him in.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you, my darling,” he asks, sliding inside. Although, he wouldn’t have cared even if he was disturbing her.

“Not at all,” she reassures him. Tav sits on a stool, applying mascara to her eyelashes with the help of a hand mirror.

“We finally have a quiet evening,” he observes lightly, coming around beside her. 

“As quiet as it can be around here, anyway,” she retorts. She screws the tube of mascara shut, slipping it into a little pouch. She then produces a small tin of salve, which she opens with a small click.

“A perfect night for two souls who would like to take some time to themselves,” he hints flirtatiously. “If you catch my meaning.”

“Hm, I don’t think I do,” Tav replies, swiping a fat dollop over her lips.  

“No?” Astarion questions, his tone playfully patronizing. 

“No,” she teases, rubbing the balm between her lips. “You’ll have to be more explicit,” she says, the challenge clear in her voice. Her lips look so pretty and glossy, a tempting target.

“Well then, since you apparently need it spelled out for you-“ Astarion leans down and kisses her, ruining the immaculate shine of her lips with a single press of his own. He lingers against her, enjoying the cloying scent of lavender and honey, the soft pillow of her lips against his own. It must be a beeswax of some kind. Tav opens her mouth to deepen the kiss, but Astarion pulls away.

“Not here,” he says, stopping her in her tracks. “There’s a clearing just over the hill. Once the others have gone to sleep, come find me there. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I will,” she promises. Already she’s rosy-cheeked and breathless. 

He’s going to positively wreck her. ~ Chapter 10: Want❤️‍🔥

[jojotichakorn]

for the game - phum 🤲

you said i should do all of them, which is insane, but also thank you weeeee ✨🫶

i'm gonna put the headcanons under the cut though, y'all can send asks with other characters (& emojis) from here

🏳️‍🌈 a sexuality headcanon

i personally definitely headcanon him as gay.

🏳️‍⚧️ a gender headcanon

a good ol' cis boy.

😇 a headcanon about their religion/lack thereof

hmmm... i'd imagine he's probably not religious, because he was shipped off from thailand at a really early age, and no one was socialising him and really involving him in the culture oversees either, so religion probably just kind of naturally passed him by. at this stage, i also can't imagine when he would discover it later in life on his own either.

🧸 a headcanon about their childhood

well 💀 horrors beyond our comprehension, basically. tbh, we know quite a bit about it, but just to solidify, i think 1) his parents and oldest brother genuinely never called to talk to him; 2) fang did call almost every day, but it got to this slightly weird juxtaposition of like "oh, you're calling me, but then if i start complaining about the horrific situation i'm in, you shut me down", so it wasn't Great, 3) the distant relatives he lived with did not care about him at all, it was truly unimaginable levels of neglect; 4) he had zero friends and the "i cried every day" thing was not an exaggeration.

👻 a headcanon about what scares them

well, we know about heights. for some reason, i also think darkness. that's if we're talking specifically classic fears. if we're talking more psychological - definitely fear of rejection and abandonment.

👽 a headcanon about a weird quirk of theirs

i do not think he sleeps with his plushies, that's not really their function. they are a comfort item during the day and also just a special interest on their own, as a collection.

💤 a headcanon about their sleep

i actually think he has a really hard time falling asleep, specifically because he isn't used to feeling safe, and that's also why he wakes up at the smallest sound.

🦾 a disability headcanon

autism in the biggest boldest letters.

💝 a headcanon about their love language

i'm gonna be honest, it's all of them equally. he is very acts of service, he starts driving peem around everywhere almost right away, he exchanges food with both peem and fang, so they wouldn't eat what they don't like. crossing over into gift-giving as well, he bought peem a bunch of seafood even though he doesn't eat it because they were at sea and peem would have wanted to eat it, he buys peem stuff all the time tbh, he pays for toey as well. quality time is also up there - he follows peem around everywhere and doesn't mind just sitting there in silence while peem works on his art. physical touch, of course, he can't stop touching and kissing peem. finally, words of affirmation, he is really good at compliments and just talking about how much he loves spending time with his friends etc. like i always say, his heart is the size of a skyscraper, and he has so much love to give.

🫂 a friendship headcanon

he still has a really hard time making friends and i think it will take him a long time to actually start hanging out with his new friends from peem's friend group separately and not when everyone is invited.

💔 an angsty headcanon

his self-worth is incredibly shakey, it's truly like a game of tumble tower, when you can see that it's gonna fall on the next player's turn. and i think that, though it will get better, especially if the family thing is resolved correctly, it will genuinely take decades to deal with it fully.

🪢 a headcanon about their family

his parents are gonna get hit by a bus that will be driven by someone who looks suspiciously like me :)

📓 a headcanon about their hobbies

i think he definitely has a hobby that involves a lot of reality-escaping. probably not video games, because i can't remember seeing a good pc/console at his apartment. i am leaning more towards books and/or movies/series, something like that.

👗 a headcanon about their clothes

he does not really care about fashion rip 😔

🔪 a headcanon relating to fighting/violence

unlike fang, i actually don't think he was ever that big into it. he ended up in a couple of fights anyway, because of fang, but he himself is very 👉👈

🌟 a headcanon about their desires/wishes

i think he wants kids, but is afraid he is going to make a terrible father, because he hasn't really had any good examples of parenting throughout his childhood.

🥇 a headcanon about what they’re best at

perhaps a slightly weird answer to a question that's probably leaning more towards skills and achievements, but i'm gonna say taking care of people. he is very attentive and loving, he is genuinely just incredibly good at the small gestures and remembering things about other people and giving the right gifts and saying the right thing at the right time, etc. etc.

🍫 a headcanon about food

he eats a very limited amount of food, which is also why fang can only cook spaghetti - he learned to cook it specifically for phum, and phum just kept asking for the same thing every day. i wouldn't be surprised, if he isn't actually allergic to seafood as well, but just says that, because it's easier than explaining that he eats exactly seven foods and nothing else.

🎭 a headcanon about what they lie about

his exact feelings about his parents. i think he's been shamed a lot for feeling the way he does towards them, so he keeps making things up and skirting around the conversation, so he wouldn't have to directly say "i do not want to see them anymore".

❤️‍🔥 a romantic headcanon

he is extremely romantic in my opinion. i think he believes in soulmateism and true love and the whole shebang. i think he watches lots of romcoms and has probably seen every mlm storyline in existence, dreaming of his own gay little relationship. he has all the proper romantic gestures down to a fine art too, obviously.

💄 an appearance headcanon

yes, he did dye his hair that shade of brown to look more like a teddy bear. slash srs

🖕 a headcanon relating to anger

anger is his mortal enemy. he has a lot of it pent up inside (understandably so), but he thinks it's a very ugly feeling he is "not supposed to feel", so he suppresses it. whenever he feels angry, he just kind of goes inside his shell and leaves the situation.

😺 an animal related headcanon

he is a cat person (hence, peem).

😬 a headcanon about the worst thing they’ve done

straight up the agreement he made with peem at the beginning.

😭 a headcanon about the worst thing that happened to them

being abandoned by his parents at five years old.

😶 a random headcanon!

he isn't as close to toey as he'd like to be, because he is 1) autistic and 2) not particularly well-socialised, so he has a hard time really understanding what social rules to follow for their particular relationship. in his head, he definitely considers toey his younger brother and would absolutely just spoil him rotten and hang out with him a lot, but not a lot of that gets actualised in reality, because he's a little afraid of making any sudden big moves or actively saying that he feels about toey the same way fang feels about him.

[thepenultimateword]

2023 Writing Wrap

All these lists are based on popularity (number of notes) rather than personal preference. These may be familiar to a lot you, but if any of them are something you missed, I hope you enjoy!

Best Snippets of 2023

I didn't write many snippets this year, it was more a year of prompts, but hopefully this new year will be the year of stories!

Absentminded

Nice to Heal You

Claws and Fangs

Cat and Mouse

Lotus

Sweet as Sugar, Sharp as Fangs

Civil(ian) Marriage

Date or Die Part 10

Sea Foam

Old Bones Part 3

Best Prompts of 2023

This year, I wrote 158 prompts (not counting prompt lists). This is the top ten!

Prompt #165:

“Y-you’re not going to kill me?” Scientist said, barely daring to peek out from under the lab table.

“And splatter that big beautiful brain all over the place?” Villain said with a light tsk. “What an enormous waste.”

Scientist could have done without the imagery, but they edged a little further out of hiding. They clung to the table leg, cheek pressed hard enough against the head of a rogue screw to leave a little indent in their skin.

“Then what do want?”

“You. By my side. Doing whatever mad, twisted thing that gorgeous head of yours can think up.”

2. Prompt #148:

“Happy anniversary my love,” the god said, shoving the thief to their knees with little more than a light tap in the center of their spine.

With their hands bound, their balance tipped them too far forward and they landed roughly on their shoulder, a hiss of pain escaping past their gag.

“A mortal?” the other god gasped. “How incredibly thoughtful!”

“It entered my temple in attempts to steal my offerings. I took it as an offering in itself. After all, no mortal would actually believe they could steal from a deity, would they?”

The god’s eyes flashed in the thief’s direction and they shrank against the floor.

It was supposed to be easy! Temples didn’t have guards, so it should have been in and out with no opposition. The gods weren’t supposed to be real!

“[Prelate]!” the second god chimed crisply, summoning a previously unseen servant from the shadows and to their side. “You know what to do. Give it whatever it is mortals need to stay alive.”

3. Prompt #139:

“Why would you help me?”

“I have a weakness for little cute things.”

4. Prompt #217:

Supervillain slowly circled Hero's bound figure.

"Poor little Hero. All alone and no one to turn to. Abandoned by your team, kicked out of the agency..." Supervillain leaned in, the corner of their lip curled back in a wolfish smile. Hero's eyes widened. "What's your next mo--"

Hero surged up and kissed them.

Quick. Warm. Chaste.

Supervillain stumbled back, ears burning. "W-what..." They clapped both hands over their mouth, exclaiming muffled, "What are you doing?"

Hero cocked their head. "You leaned in. Weren't we leading up to the 'join me and I'll give you unimaginable power' speech anyway? I'm just speeding it up a little."

5. Prompt #175:

“Yeees,” Supervillain squealed from the couch, kicking their legs a little before flopping more comfortably onto their side. “Kiss kiss fall in love!”

Superhero lowered their mug to the kitchen table and stared. “What are you reading?”

Supervillain jolted as if just noticing Superhero in the room. Their face flushed, and they clutched their tablet screen-first to their chest. “Nothing. Just a cute fanfiction.”

“Oh?” Superhero rose from their seat and sauntered across the room. “Can I see?”

“No.”

No hesitation. Not even a stutter. The look growing in their eyes became less embarrassed and more feral, like a wildcat ready to defend its territory.

For a moment Superhero could only stare, mouth gaping. “Why not?”

“Because I’m evil. You can’t expect me to share.”

“Come on.” Hero closed in, kneeling on the couch cushions and leaning over Supervillain’s sprawled body. “Just a peek.”

Supervillain rolled on their stomach. “No. No! Stop that! I said no!”

Superhero tickled at the criminal’s sides and neck until they thrashed, tablet thrust involuntarily into the air. Superhero swiftly plucked it from their fingers, plopping down beside them to scan the open page.

“Is this fanfiction…about us?”

Supervillain went beet red. “It’s a good one!”

6. Prompt #140

“Don’t.”

The human froze, wobbling on one foot in front of the control panel. “What?”

“Touch anything,” the alien replied with a low growl, flashing their teeth long enough to show off all 8 extended canines .

The human gave a little scoff but backed up against the ship wall anyway. “From one predator species to another, you’re not that scary.”

7. Prompt #182:

Medic tried not writhe as the the villain finished stitching the gash between their shoulder blades.

“Hush,” the villain said, breaking the thread with their teeth. “It’s all ok.”

It was not. They’d just been attacked and left for dead by their own leader in the middle of a job. They were confused, weak, sticky with blood, and at the mercy of a dangerous criminal. They didn’t even understand why the villain stopped for them instead of continuing their pursuit of the field team. But here Medic was, frozen on the bathroom floor of deadly stranger, hands designed to hurt patching a wound made by hands designed to help.

Medic choked on an unexpected sob.

Hesitant fingers rubbed their back, careful not to come anywhere near the new stitches. How strange to be on the other end of the needle.

“They’ll pay,” Villain soothed and for a moment, Medic hoped it might be true.

8. Prompt #159:

Supervillain hadn’t seen Scientist in months.

After that hero raid on the base, they’d simply disappeared. And no amount of looking had done any good. It hadn’t been hard to guess what had happened; trying not to think about it was another story.

Now here they were. Thin, scraggly, and hollow eyed on their door step. Looking like they might be toppled by light wind.

Supervillain scanned them up and down before opening the door wider. “Have you eaten?”

9. Prompt #181:

“You’re so…” Supervillain trailed, scanning their partner in crime up and down.

“Reliable?” Villain urged eagerly. “Talented? Devilishly attractive?

“…domestic.”

Villain slammed the pan of mini quiches on the stove and flung their oven mitts one at a time at Supervillain’s face. “Well, you weren’t complaining when I packed your lunch last week!”

10. Prompt #184:

Villain blinked at the doll-sized hero on their tabletop, needle brandished like a sword in front of them.

“So is it a shrinking power or…”

“Shut your mouth before I cut you from throat to navel,” the hero said. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll prostrate yourself in surrender now, hands behind your head.”

Villain blinked again, then turned on their heel for the kitchen.

“Where you going, villain? Are you so cowardly as to retreat after a mere glimpse at your doombringer?

“I’m getting a jar.”

[gretchensinister]

Babylon 5 rewatch, S1 E1: Midnight on the Firing Line

This truly was formative, my base for solving the FTL problem is jumpgates.

Landoooooo

VIR

I don't remember the little Centauri fangs--I wonder if that was kept for later episodes

Okay okay okay. They made FIVE of these Babylon stations in TEN YEARS after the Earth-Minbari war. (Despite 4 of them being destroyed/disappearing in mysterious circumstances) The political will! The logistics! THIS IS A UTOPIA

The city I live in has approximately the same population as Babylon 5 which was always useful for me in terms of envisioning scale

Deleeeennnnn (spelling???)

G'Kaaaaaaar

Oh Sinclair you military head

Chin joke=bad

Now, I do think it's possible that an ambassador might not know about an attack, official or unofficial, but I'm not involved in politics

Spoo in the first episode

I love G'Kar's outfit.

I know the first episode doesn't get into the greater history but the Narn can do WHATEVER THEY WANT to the Centauri for real IMO.

I wonder how many details were planned out in advance re: the dream.

I'm so irritated ooh your nephew cool cool cool IT'S UNIMAGINABLE what the Centauri did to the Narn, it was NOT equal.

It's so fun to see the 90s influence even in the attempt to design a futuristic space

KOSH MY BELOVED

KOOOOOOOSH

I want to make that costume so bad I want to have that cosplay I just don't know hoooooooow

Vir what was the job description when you applied because I'm 100% sure it didn't account for this *gestures vaguely at everything*

Garibaldi don't do that

Of course they'll sell to anyone I bet Narn doesn't HAVE ANY MONEY after what the Centauri did, they're DESPERATE

It's very funny to see G'Kar and Sinclair before their character development/all the crazy shit that happens to them

Man I'm not paying much attention to the raiders; I don't think they end up continually important after this episode

Imagine putting on full face alien makeup for essentially an extra role

Oh so since the Centauri have had Ragesh 3 for a century they should just keep it now???? This situation sucks on all levels

The spaceships look fine when you watch them on a small screen like the 90s intended

So from this we can learn: 1) Ambassadors aren't supposed to have guns on Babylon 5 2) they will make sure to have a gun anyway

Sinclair you may be right and the Narn may be wrong in this case but I want to slap that smug look off Sinclair's face so bad

I didn't realize that we got Ivanova's backstory in the first episode

LMAO I want to know Delenn's thought process accepting Garibaldi's invitation. Love her being like "hmmm" about popcorn! Also okay this makes Garibaldi a sort of different guy than maybe the impression was supposed to be. Like in 1993 the Looney Tunes were ~40-year-old cartoons, and in the early 2000s they still aired on Cartoon Network. A guy who's into 40 year old stuff is like a regular nostalgic guy. Garibaldi's character, however, is into 300 YEAR OLD MEDIA. 300 YEAR OLD HUMOR is his (second) favorite thing in the whole world. That's a completely different kind of guy. Imagine a guy today obsessed with stuff from the 1720s. That's a completely different kind of weirdo.

"preserving Earth cultures in the face of non-Terran influences" warning, warning, danger will robinson! (and it's intended to alarm the audience, I know this)

[softsnzstuff]

OF/MD - Kraken!Ed with a Cold

Based on this post thread. Have a snippet of what myself and @snzsnchillz-afterdark think menacing Kraken!Ed would be like when he’s got the worst cold and is trying to still be threatening. This one goes out to my OFMD buddies - @friv0lite @peach-plumb-pear2 @sniffles-and-tickles @softersteve

Based on the new promo pictures because Taika could choke me and I’d thank him Ed looks so good 🫡😍

Set between seasons 1 and 2 (before canon S2 has come out if anyone finds this post 10/05/23)

CW: intentional contagion

The crew of the Revenge were well used to Ed’s overnight personality changes at this point. At first he’d been all weepy and switched to being one with the Earth and musical and personifying his soul…whatever that meant.

The second switch happened a few days later. Over night. When he had reached the point in his breakup that condoned anger and violence. He’d cut off Izzy’s toe and fed it to him in the night, also tossing plenty of Stede’s things overboard - partial crew included.

He’d been in full swing as Blackbeard for a couple of weeks now - ravaging ships, looting them, and leaving men for dead in ways more unimaginable than skinning them with the snail fork.

This third personality shift happened when he came down with the cold from Hell… or rather - tried to convince everyone that he hadn’t.

Ed had been up Izzy’s ass the the last day, quite literally screaming orders in his ear, pausing occasionally to cough wetly. Izzy would just close his eyes and force a smile before responding with, “Yes, Captain.”

This morning, Izzy had awoken the crew early - somehow managing to be both yelling at them and quiet as not to wake Ed.

“Alright listen up, dogs! Blackbeard is… under the weather… and is more irritable than usual.” Izzy started. “I want you lot to just do what he says and try not to fucking upset him.”

“Why is that our job? He’s the one being a dick.” Jim muttered, twirling their knife.

Izzy sighed, having known Ed the longest. “Because the sooner he is well again, the sooner he stops being a cunt.”

“Yeah, that’s a good enough answer for me I feel.” Frenchie looked around for agreement. Everyone stayed silent, but Fang gave a single nod in solidarity.

“I want you all to keep your heads down and stay out of his fucking way. If he asks anything, you say ‘yes captain’ and fucking do it. And you-” Izzy points to Frenchie, “I want you find what’s left of any medicine that Bonnet left on board. Is that understood?”

There were some silent nods.

“I SAID IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?!?” Izzy screamed.

“Yes, fucking Christ.” Jim grumbled, bringing some hands up towards their ears.

“H’iszzzSCHEW! K’tCHuh!”

Just as they were finishing up, Ed kicked the door in, sniffling thickly against his gloved hand.

“What the fuck are you all doing down here???”

Izzy quickly came up with a lie, “I was just telling these fucking idiots that it shouldn’t take this long to clean the floor!”

Izzy shot Frenchie a glance and he immediately dropped to his knees, using a piece of his shirt to scrub at the floor.

“I’m sorry captain Blackbeard sir, it’s just hard to clean the floor without any.. water?” He tried to play along with the charade.

“Hmm. You’re right.” Ed hummed thoughtfully before spitting on the floor right in front of the younger man. “There. Now you’ve got something.”

Frenchie held back a gag as Ed stormed out the other door to the deck of the ship, Izzy and crew following behind. Jim have Frenchie a hand up and he scurried off to go find Stede’s medicine stash.

*****

One thing about the gentleman pirate is that he was bound to have loads of the unnecessary - books, fine fabrics, and medicine. It only took a few minutes for Frenchie to find the bottles in the Captains’ chambers bathroom, but seeing as he couldn’t read, he just grabbed everything and shoved it into a crate to bring to Izzy on the upper deck.

Hands full of different bottles and vials, he turned on his heels to leave the Captain’s chambers. Slamming into the chest of the captain…

“The fuck are you doing in my room?!” Ed hissed, looking the man up and down.

“I uh… you see Mr.Blackbeard sir… I just.. I was…”

Ed’s scowl gave way momentarily to something more relaxed. He turned to the side out of habit, sneezing openly at the air.

“Eh’tSZzZiew! Snlrff”

“Shut up! You’re fucking taking too long.” Ed held up a hand, making Frenchie stop.

The crew member was frozen, staring wide eyed, his eyes locked on the small trail of mess leaking down Ed’s upper lip.

Ed had him pinned against the wall. “The fuck are you staring at?”

“You’ve just…. You’ve got a little…on your face…” Frenchie stammered, gesturing towards Ed’s nose.

He watched in horror as Ed’s nostrils flared once again right in front of him. He squeezed his eyes and hoped for the best.

“H’ekTSZZZuhew!”

Frenchie scrunched his face as he felt droplets hit his cheek.

“Well now you’ve got a little something on your face too.” Ed released his grip on the man, throwing him against the wall and rubbing his own nose again.

“This is so unsanitary.” Frenchie whined quietly.

“What was that???”

“I said uh… sanctuary! Thank you for providing us with such a great… sanctuary….” The fake enthusiasm trailed off at the end before he scurried away to the upper deck.

When he arrived topside, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. Jim was standing at Izzy’s side.

“Jeez what the fuck happened to you?” They asked.

“Here’s your fucking medicine.” Frenchie aggressively dropped the crate of medicine on the barrel in front of Izzy, pausing to wipe at his face and swiping one of the bottles, “this one’s for me now.”

Izzy huffed a knowing sigh and rubbed at his temple. “He sneeze on you?”

Jim made a face of disgust as Frenchie nodded. “Yup…”

“He’s worse than I thought.” Izzy groaned. “Never thought I’d say this but we need Stede back.”

[moss-bride]

The lie of human kindness. Ren Hana x Reader

Part 2. Tw: dead dove do not eat

Tonight was a fairytale, to meet so many kind people and end up wrapped in the arms of her handsome companion…it could end just as quickly as it started if she let it.

 She doesn't want to be whisked away on a pumpkin carriage carrying one glass slipper.

"No." she shoves Roo away. Facing Fox who narrows his gaze and is daring her to speak. "I'm staying."

The chattering inside fades away as they lock eyes and stand together in a tense silence that chokes her. Her mentor and friend has come to mean much more than those labels, she likes him, simple and true. Should have realized it ages ago.

While apart her thoughts linger on his intelligent and quiet presence, the way that despite his size he commands a room with enthralling words. The lined face that smiles cheerfully and the peppering of gray in his hair. Tan skin, lean body. Impeccable style. He always smells good. Always radiating charisma.

And in quiet moments, though he tried to not let her see, the unsure fragile expression he sometimes gets in quiet pauses mid conversations makes her cherish him.

 "Fox." trying to ease the anger in his gaze, the tired acceptance of something she has no clue about.

He looks about ready to bark another order at Roo. But at her pleading tone an awful sneer marks his lips, something she's never seen. "Fine."

She smiles big and runs into his arms ready to kiss him again. He crushes her to him. Licking open her lips and squeezing her waist. Meeting her fully in the warm smashing of lips that he pours all his intentions, his passion, into. The heat leaves her dizzy, tilting her head to slide her tongue against his sharp fang, a move so bold she would have never had done it had she been sober.

 He groans. She clenched her thighs. The sound does delicious things to her. The wine buzzes her fraught feelings with a slow glow of gold. She's whimpering. Clutches his shoulders for more. Can't get enough of his taste and pleased murmurs. "Pretty pet." He whispers in her ear. 

Moving to kiss her nape. Her head falls back for more open mouth bites from his roaming teeth, his heated breath scattering the cold from her cheeks. 

She reaches to rub his ears, the fragile shell of pink to white orange then brown fur in that order, unimaginably soft.

He takes her neck in his teeth and delivers a harsh clamp. She jolts back from his grasp and feels a tiny trickle of blood. Fox kisses the shell of her ear to soothe her sudden fright.

 Is she really bleeding? Maybe it's her imagination. 

To hell if it's odd. She wants to continue to exist in his smothering arms. There is the beginning of evidence of his desire throbbing at her pelvis, below her stomach. The perfect height to enter her with no problem had their clothes not been in the way, god knows she's soaking in her panties. Unable to concentrate on anything but the lashing of arousal in her stomach. 

She wants him to start leading her to his bedroom. Mindful of the guest inside, some of them stare through the glass doors and windows. 

They are discussing them. That cools her ardor. 

 His fingers find her dress zipper, while meeting her in another kiss, her hands buried at the hair in his nape as he pulls it down.

The breeze on her back shocks her into action. She pushes him off. "What are you doing?!"

Fox is all smiles. The fangs she kissed just a second ago were no longer inviting but a predator's warning. Ears perked up in attention

She reaches around and tries to zip it up, He made it to mid back before she stopped him and she struggles to cover her exposed skin, then hands bigger and wider than hers crush the attempt.

The bald guard grasps her wrists and stretches them above her head. Her shoulder muscles strain.

 Roo and Rhino hold her as she writhes. "Let go." She shoots a glance at Fox. Waiting for him to tell the men to release her. Order them to stop

He's shaking his head and tsking. "That's not an option anymore. I gave you a chance. You refused."

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hours in the Moonlight: Fairest Midnight - 16. Continue as Planned

Summary: The time has finally come for you to meet all of the clans as the new vampire hunter. But when unexpected things happen that change the situation, you can only continue as planned and hope for the best.

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ Vampire AU/ romantic/ angst/ angst with comfort/ fluff/ sfw/ platonic interactions too!

Trigger Warning: Vampire

Word Count: 1963

Hours in the Moonlight Master-List

The evening had come at long last, and after meticulous planning and training in the art of dancing for both me and Epel, I could only hope I was ready. Because tonight was the night of the vampire ball.

The ball at which I would be introduced to the clans as the new vampire hunter. 

My grasp on Vil’s elbow was tight as we approached the massive doors that I eyed nervously. Wondering exactly what a vampire ball would end up looking like. At the very least, it required some pretty fancy clothes if the outfit Vil had given me to wear was anything to go by.

And, as it turned out, the local kids actually did have a good reason for avoiding the ancient building we approached. It was apparently a gathering place for vampires…..

“Relax,” I glanced over as soon as Vil spoke, his amethyst eyes flickering my way as he gave me hushed directions. His arm lowering so that my hand slid down until it was captured by him and squeezed gently, “Remember, you cannot show them you’re afraid. Not now that you are the Hunter.”

I nodded, swallowing thickly, before looking back towards the doors that were getting steadily closer, “Easier said than done.”

I could feel Vil’s eyes still on me, but when he spoke, it wasn’t to discourage me or offer me a way out this time. Instead, there was a warmth to his tone that had my eyes widening as he spoke, “You’ll do fine, Tater-tot. Just act like you always do.”

I looked back at him to see him smiling slightly at me, and I found myself grinning in return, “Right. It’s not like I can miss the grand unveiling of your clan after all.” 

He shook his head with the slightest of smiles at my teasing but remained silent. Supporting me all the while and staying by my side as we drew closer to the doors as he shifted so that my hand was once more resting in the crook of his elbow and I looked back at the looming door. A frown slipping its way back onto my face at the mere sight of them.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, Y/n. We’ll get through it together," I glanced back, making eye contact with Epel, who looked just as nervous as I felt. But then this was his first vampire soiree as well as Rook’s first one as a vampire. Though Rook hardly looked nervous… In fact, he looked weirdly excited.

I flashed Epel a smile, repeating his “Together” back at him softly and causing the young man to smile before I turned my eyes back to the doors in front of me, inhaling deeply as I calmed myself.

This was it; there was no more turning back. As soon as I went through those doors, I would be well and truly entering the world of vampires, and I might not ever be able to leave again.

But if that was what it took…. Then so be it.

The doors swung open at an astonishing speed, and a Black man with bright pink eyes flashed a fanged grin our way before loudly announcing our entrance, “Mr. Schoenheit and his Pomefiore clan!”

All heads turned immediately, and I walked carefully at Vil’s side as I stared into a sea of unimaginably attractive people. All of whom regarded me with a distinct curiosity that had me fighting to not go tense under the weight of their cumulative gazes.

“And a special guest, our new Hunter! Y/n L/n!” All four of us turned to look at the announcer, who now stood behind us. 

His sparkling eyes met mine, and he flashed a little wink at me, startling me further as he spoke quietly enough that I doubted anyone but my little group could hear him, “Good luck, Little Imp.”

I nodded slowly before looking over at Vil, only to find he was already gazing at me with a tight expression. I swallowed, finding my mouth was suddenly dry, “Vil, how did he…?”

“I don’t know,” He frowned and looked back out across the crowd, who were now abuzz with my name on everyone’s lips as they cast numerous glances our way, “But we will find out.”

I squared my shoulders, forcing myself not to shrink behind Vil as he slowly began to guide me down the staircase that flared around us like a sort of marble frame.

“Roi du Poison, this changes things….” Rook’s voice was a hushed whisper as he and Epel followed the two of us. Each with matching expressions of grim determination.

“I know, but we will continue as planned. That is all we can do.” Rook nodded solemnly at Vil’s response and cast his gaze across the crowd, which was slowly making room for us to enter once we finished our descent.

“So, who's who?” Vil glanced my way at my hushed question, and his lips quirked up in a slight smile before he answered.

“The group in yellow is the Savanaclaw clan. We’ll want to make a good impression on them… They may be our only real chance at allies.” I eyed the yellow group, noting exactly how terrifying they all looked.

“They look….” I trailed off as the large red-headed man at the front yawned, revealing a set of canines that looked far larger than any fangs I’d seen before, “Fun….”

As I spoke, I recalled the man who’d been there the night everything had truly started. When I’d killed that vampire. 

I could only imagine that he was part of that group. He seemed to have had some form of wereism with his catlike ears and tail.

“They are not so bad, Trickster. Sometimes the worst individuals hide behind a carefully crafted smile,” As he spoke, Rook directed my and Epel’s attention to a trio of men, two of whom were practically identical, off to the side. Despite their mafia-esque appearance, all three of them smiled at us, with the pale-haired one in the center inclining his head.

“The Octavinelle clan,” The Frenchman continued, “Are perhaps the most concerning group here.”

I frowned slightly as I continued to glance around before a flash of white caught my eye and had me hurriedly looking to the left at a group who were dressed almost totally in black.

I recognized that face…..

“Who’s that?” I inclined my head towards the white haired young man that I’d met all those many nights ago on Halloween.

“That?” Vil glanced at me with an odd expression before looking back over at the young man, “That’s Silver. He’s part of the Diasomnia clan, but he’s human…. Like you.” 

I looked over to see Vil already looking down at me with a slight smile, “Lilia, one of the clan’s seniors, took him in. I don’t know why, but since that is the case, you may find allies there.”

It was a thought that gave me some hope. That there were clans out there with humans who, at least judging from the way he was mingling with the others in those same black outfits, seemed comfortable.

“What’s that big group over there? In the black and white checkers with the red,” Epel piped up from behind us, directing our attention to what was indeed one of the larger groups present.

“The Heartslabyul clan. They are very strict about their rules, but they will not harm humans. So they are safe to associate with,” Rook nodded pointedly towards me before continuing to look around.

My mind was already swirling at this point with all of the clan names I’d really only heard once before now as Vil gestured towards a duo, “That’s the Scarabia clan… Or at least two members of it. Kalim is harmless, but Jamil…. Well, he’s certainly more crafty.”

Vil frowned as he spoke, shaking his head slightly. But my attention got redirected once more as Epel nudged me and indicated a new duo with a head jerk, “Found the flame-haired ones Rook mentioned….. What were their names?”

His voice was hushed as I looked over and indeed saw two individuals, or rather one individual and a floating robot that was about the size of a young boy. And, true to what we’d been told, both had a swathe of blue flames that seemed to serve as hair.

 “Ignihyde… I think,” I muttered back to my friend, earning myself a head nod as we both did our best to not stare. 

“It seems like everyone is present this evening… We merely need to wait until someone approaches us,” Vil nodded in agreement with Rook's words even as he continued to scan the room.

“I don’t see anyone who matches the description you or Epel gave, though,” I glanced over to see Vil frowning as he spoke, and I squeezed his arm slightly, earning myself a glance that was paired with raised eyebrows.

“They might not be here yet… And he might not come at all if he’s in hiding,” My voice was hushed, but Vil heard me nonetheless. Nodding even despite the distaste on his face.

“So what do we do while we wait for someone to ‘approach us’?” I smiled slightly at Epel’s ability to be slightly huffy over being at such a fancy ball despite the tense situation. 

He was no doubt already itching to get his fancy and notably lacy clothes off. He’d already complained about them the entire week leading up to this evening anyway.

Rook laughed good-naturedly as he took on his new role of attempting to soothe the younger boy, even as Vil looked like he was using all of his willpower to not roll his eyes.

We all stopped, though, as stringed music began to slowly lilt through the air despite the lack of instruments or any way to broadcast music. 

I frowned, glancing around, only to find that there was no clear source of the sound. It was almost like magic was being used to cause the gentle, soothing sounds. And though, so far as I knew, vampires couldn’t use magic, I supposed anything was possible.

I felt a light tapping on my shoulder and turned, only to see Vil smiling at me as he held out one gloved hand, “We could always dance while we waited?”

I heard a quiet ‘Ugh’ from Epel but ignored him as I glanced around the numerous undead persons who now flocked towards the dance floor.

“Are you sure?” Even as I continued to look around nervously, I let my hand slip into Vil’s. Fully trusting him, even if I wasn’t sure what exactly to do in this moment. 

It wasn’t like I was used to balls after all. Much less balls filled with undead people whose kind were known to seek me out for thus-far unexplained reasons and who had been staring at me ever since our grand entrance.

But Rook and Vil had taught both me and Epel to dance just in case this did occur. Unfortunately, now that it was actually happening, I found that I was feeling a lot less confident than I had at our last set of lessons.

Epel stared at me in disbelief as Rook clasped his hands together joyfully, urging me and Vil to go ahead even though Vil had already started to lead me away.

“But of course, Tater tot. It is only natural that we should dance at such a venue. If we didn’t, people might start to talk,” There was a glimmer in his eyes that had me grinning slightly. Knowing that, at least in some small way, he was teasing me over my newfound fame as the resident vampire hunter. 

Though perhaps infamy would be a better way to put it….

If you would like to read more:

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[univvrse]

the coven (chapter 2)

previous chapters:

chapter 1

reader x bakugou x shinsou x kaminari x kirishima

Coven- a formation of at least three or more vampires He told you they were dangerous- why didn't you believe him?

on my ao3 if you'd prefer

780 words

“What” you laughed, “You suck blood and you’re from Transylvania.”

They froze, entirely still. “Fuck off, we are not from the fictional city”- Katsuki growled.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure Transylvania exists, it’s part of Romania”, Eijiro interrupted, “Anyway”, he cleared his throat, “We are not from Transylvania aand that’s a pretty offensive stereotype sweetheart.”

“You’re joking”, you say- you stop and look around at the boys’ faces “you are joking, right”. They looked at you with blank expressions. “Why would we by joking”, Denki asked.

“Because vampires aren’t real”, you replied.

“I think you’ll” find, Katsuki replied with venom, “vampires are very real.” “Prove it”, you said.

“So, what would you want us to do”?, Denki replied.

“Like, I don’t know, turn into bats or something.”

“Oh my god she’s literally brain dead”, Katsuki said- turning to Hitoshi. “He doesn’t mean that”, Hitoshi said to you, “Vampires have never been able to turn into bats, that’s an urban legend”. “Well, what can you do then?”, you responded, barely feeling the fear any rational person would in this situation. “I mean we have fangs,” Eijiro said. “Show me”, you said.

He promptly curls his fingers around his lips, pulling his cheeks back to reveal his teeth. His canines were long, sharp and pointed resting against lower teeth.

Fangs. Sharp and most certainly deadly.

“Holy shit, you actually weren’t lying, were you?” you gasped They all shook their heads,

“You’re- you’re vampires” “In the flesh, actually you know technically we don’t have flesh” Denki laughed. “It’s true, feel,” Eijiro said before giving you, his bicep to feel the texture of his 'skin'. You felt his frigid cold arm, nope definitely did

not feel like skin.

You didn’t not notice the insane muscle that he had beneath his ‘skin’ “Okay jeez I believe you now, so what did you lure me out here to drink my blood?” “I wish”, Katsuki remarked “You humans are so goddamn annoying, you know.” "No, you're pretty, thought you seemed cool, that's it." Hitoshi said plainly. A small breech of light began to rise on the horizon. They all hissed slightly, beginning to feel the burn of the sunlight

“Come back to ours”, Denki quickly said. “We have to go like, now. Us not liking the sun was one of the only things the legends got right”. You pondered for a moment, was it really a good idea to go to a vampires house? Furthermore, was it right to go to a vampire’s house that you had known for only an hour? You took your chance, “yeah okay, sounds great”.

Hitoshi tried to pick you up, trying to scoop you up underneath your armpits.

"What do you think you're doing" you snapped at him. "You said you want to come to ours, I'm trying to get you there", he replied snarkily, yet without malice.

“We’re not going to walk at human pace, we’ll roast." Katsuki joked. You paused, wondering what he meant by speed that wasn’t human.

“Okay then”, you nodded, No matter how strange you saw it, you allowed yourself to be lifted by Hitoshi. They ran, so fast you couldn’t see anything. Hitoshi gripped your legs tightly, Definitely over 100 miles per hour.

The run was short. Nowhere over 5 minutes, you had no way to tell where you were or how far you had run when Hitoshi finally put you down “I think I’m going to be sick”, you complained, feeling motion-sick from their intense speed.

You looked up. Their house was huge, unimaginably so. Other than that, it was just an average house. It surprised you. You must’ve looked it because Katsuki said to you: “What were you expecting dungeons and moats?” he laughed slightly. You could tell he was slowly but surely warming up to you.

You laughed back “not the moats”, you said. “No dungeons here,” Hitoshi said, “unless you're into that”. You could tell he wasn’t joking.

“Come in” Denki said in a sing-song voice “There’ll be no hot vampires to hang out with if we all burn to death”.

You laughed at that; stepping into their house. It was dark inside, almost pitch black with floor to ceiling blackout curtains that covered every window. You could barely make out the furniture scattered around the living space. It was obvious to you that none of these boys were interior decorators.

You stood out the entryway. “Come on in, we don’t bite- actually we do we’re vampires, you know- but, we promise we’re not actually going to bite you”, Denki said “Speak for yourself”, Katsuki added. “Me personally, I would love to sink my teeth into you.” You shuddered at the thought.

[caineyouseeme]

Vampire Izzy P2

(TW: blood, domestic violence, mention of past violence, sexual content, language)

They had tried to keep things ‘professional’ after than. Tried, being the optimal word. They’d made it all of 30 minutes. Izzy had been sitting at what Stede called a “respectable distance” drinking from his wrist. 

Izzy had pointed out that it would hurt more and be less effective that way, but then Stede had started talking about something called a ‘human resource department’ and Izzy figured a little nerve damage was worth shutting him up. 

And maybe Izzy didn’t HAVE to be on his knees for it and maybe he didn’t have to lick (read: suck) Stede’s fingers clean, but he had and next thing either of them knew, Izzy was flat on his back with Stede grinning from between his knees. 

Now, nearly a month after their first time, they’d dropped the pretenses. Mostly. The crew had figured things out almost immediately and they knew denying it would only make the speculations worse, so they didn’t. With one exception, of course. 

Ed had come back once in that time. He’d appeared just before dinner, strolling in with a story about how he’d become a bartender until he accidentally poisoned a customer and Jackie banned him for six months. 

Things had felt normal at first, like they always did, and then Ed became restless, like he always did, and within another day he was gone. 

Izzy told himself Ed didn’t need to know about… whatever this was, that he didn’t care who Izzy fucked, that he wouldn’t stick around long enough to do anything about it even if he did. Izzy didn’t bother asking him for blood anymore. It’d been months since Izzy had drank from him directly, and even then, Ed had made him beg. 

Izzy knew he should have just drunk from someone, anyone, else. Ed already thought he did. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Even with his leg half blown off and his blood staining the deck, he’d refused anyone but Edward. 

More and more of the awful little jars appeared after that. He told himself it didn’t matter, it was still Ed’s, but he could taste the difference. He wondered just how many men Ed had killed to keep Izzy’s fangs from his neck. Eventually, the jars had stopped too. 

Stede had likewise found he cared less and less each time Edward disappeared. Perhaps because he was getting used to Ed’s flights of fancy or because he’d become accustomed to the feel of Izzy in his arms. He’d even shifted to Izzy’s nocturnal schedule most days, ensuring they spent as much time in bed as possible. Not that they did much sleeping. 

As it turned out, most of the things Stede had heard about Izzy’s kind were myths. He couldn’t fly or transform, nor did he have any reticence near water. Izzy had openly mocked him when he asked about that one, gesturing to the ocean around them with exasperation. 

He was stronger than a human though, and he could see for miles in the dark. He could also go outside in the daylight, but was nocturnal and would be unimaginably irritable during the day. Which was saying something, considering how irritable he could be at night. 

He also didn’t seem to need much blood, less than a pint every few days unless he was injured. Though Izzy had shared he could push it to a month if he had to. When asked how often he’d had to do that, Izzy hadn’t answered and Stede didn’t press the issue. 

“You look so lovely,” Stede murmured, brushing a dark curl from Izzy’s forehead. It was just past dawn and the golden light illuminating their naked forms made everything feel like a dream. 

“That’s just the blood loss talking,” Izzy teased, kissing a freckle on Stede’s inner thigh. There were small white dots on either side of it now from where Izzy’s fangs had been. 

“And whose fault is that?” Stede laughed. 

Izzy leaned his head against the place he’d kissed and eyed the stiff member only a few inches from his face. He ran a finger down its length, savoring the way Stede’s cock twitched when he brushed over the sensitive head. “Looks like I left you enough where it counts.” 

“Mmmm, perhaps you should double check,” Stede hummed, sliding his fingers through Izzy’s hair, pulling it a little at the roots. Izzy leaned into the touch, letting himself be led forward. 

He propped himself on one arm between Stede’s legs as he leaned in, flicking his tongue over Stede’s tip. They’d already gone once that morning and Izzy could taste himself there. He let the memory play through his head as he sank down, swallowing Stede’s length. 

“What a good first mate I have. Taking such good care of your captain,” Stede groaned, hips giving small shuttering thrusts.  

Izzy moaned, the sound muffled. He slid his free hand down to his cunt, teasing his over sensitive cock. As it turned out, Stede’s natural proclivity for positive reinforcement suited Izzy much better when they were naked than when Stede was “undermining my authority you twat!” 

“Come here pet, let me take care of you,” stede cooed. 

Izzy slid off with a loud POP. He grinned. “Didn’t get enough earlier?” 

“Never.” 

How strange it was that an un-beating heart could still stutter. He told himself Stede didn’t mean it, that this was just his idea of dirty talk, but Izzy couldn’t help the way it made him feel. 

He crept carefully over Stede until he was straddling his chin. As it turned out, Stede’s mouth was good for more than just getting on Izzy’s nerves. Stede gripped his hips, positioning Izzy over his eager tongue. Izzy braced his hands against the wall of the bed nook as he began giving little thrusts. 

“Fu—ah—there!” The headboard banged carelessly against the wall. They knew the crew would hear, but there was enough fucking going on at any time on the ship that it usually went unquestioned. 

Izzy felt Stede’s hand move to his cock and he moaned, voice vibrating against Izzy’s cunt. Izzy thrust against the captain’s tongue, eyes fluttering shut. 

He focused on the feel of Stede under him, the sound of the bed thumping against the wall. There was an especially loud crack of wood and Izzy wondered if they’d broken something. He wanted to ignore to, but it had sounded almost like…

Izzy’s eyes flew open as he felt a hand rap around his neck and then he was being thrown sideways onto the cold floor. He hit the ground hard, knocking the air from his lungs. He gasped, trying to take in a shuttering breath as the black boots before him came into focus. His stomach dropped. He would know that dark leather anywhere. 

“Guess you didn’t miss me, Iz,” Ed spat and then those all too familiar boots collided with Izzy’s face. 

Izzy knew his nose was broken. It wasn’t the first time after all. He curled in on himself. He wanted to reset it and make sure it healed straight, but he knew Ed would break it again if he did it now. It was always better to just let Ed get things out of his system. 

That’s what Izzy told himself anyways, as he curled into a ball of naked flesh and blood on the floor. 

“Edward! What the hell are you doing?!” Came Stede’s shriek as he half crawled, half fell off the bed to kneel in front of Izzy. Izzy curled inwards, making himself smaller. He didn’t understand what Stede was doing. Was this something they’d planned? Something to make it hurt more long after the physical wounds faded. 

But then he heard Ed’s angry, “the fuck are you doing protecting this little leach?” and slowly, slower than he’d like to admit, Izzy realized Stede was protecting him. 

‘Idiot’ Izzy thought. Ed’s violence didn’t matter when it was him. He wasn’t even human. He could take it. But Stede… Stede was all brittle bones and fragile skin (in Izzy’s opinion at least). 

Izzy pushed himself up on shaking arms that had nothing to do with his injuries. It wasn’t the first time a crew member had tried to get between them when Ed was in one of his moods. 

Izzy wished they wouldn’t. It never made things better, just made sure they got a public slap on the wrist while Izzy took the beating of his well… not life. He knew this time would be no different. 

Even if Stede tried to help, he’d be in Edward’s good graces in a week and Izzy would be shoving his own teeth back in. 

“Stay out of is Bonnet,” Izzy growled. “you’ll just make things worse for everyone.” 

Stede shot him a surprised look that quickly turned to hurt. 

Guilt ripped through Izzy, but he told himself it would be better in the long run. This is what he did, after all. This is how he kept them safe. It had to be. 

Always the persistent one though, Stede pushed on. “I really have to protest Edward. This is completely unnecessary!” 

“Oh, I get it, now that Iz is putting out, you’re best fucking boyfriends,” Ed retorted. 

“Did you expect me to just wait around for you Edward?” Stede shot back, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced with a cold fury. 

He pushed himself to his feet, pulling a sheet from the bed to wrap around his waist. “When you were gods knows where doing gods knows what with gods knows who?! 

“You mean like when you fucked off back to your wife and kids?”

“You know that’s different! You know what happened to me. I wanted to be somewhere familiar, somewhere safe.”

“I’m supposed to be familiar. I’m supposed to be safe!” Ed practically screamed. 

“Tell that to my fucking toes,” Izzy snarled. 

The room fell deathly silent. Stede looked from Izzy to Edward, a look of growing horror on his face. “Ed, what’s he talking about?” 

“He said stay the fuck out of it Stede,” Ed snapped, sneering down at Izzy with a look of pure hatred.

“Edward, I’m serious,” Stede insisted. 

“It’s Izzy. He lies.” Ed’s voice had gone flat, rehearsed, like he was reciting lines. 

“Look at me Ed!” Stede half screamed, stepping practically chest to chest with Ed. 

Izzy had a moment of deep appreciation for Stede, brave, foolish Stede and then Stede was stumbling backwards as Ed’s palms collided with his chest. He managed to stay upright, but it was enough for Izzy. His vision went red around the edges and suddenly he was standing. 

“Don’t fucking touch him,” Izzy growled, taking a step towards his former captain. 

“Oh this is fucking rich,” Edward laughed, though there was no humor to the sound. “You really do just whore yourself out to the biggest dog in the junkyard, don’t you?” 

Izzy didn’t react. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Walk away, Edward.” 

Ed smiled cruelly. “You’re the big bad vampire, Iz. Why don’t you fucking make me.” 

Izzy’s hands twitched at his side. It would be so easy. Another step, a slash, a bite and Blackbeard, the Kraken, would never hurt anyone again. But he couldn’t. 

After everything they’d been through, everything they’d done… Izzy had done… he couldn’t kill Ed anymore than himself. Not that he hadn’t tried both. 

But there was more than one way to tear a man’s heart from his chest. 

A sickly-sweet grin spread across Izzy’s face. It was an unnatural thing and Ed leaned away minutely, his face falling. 

“Alright Eddie. You win. You want to stay? Stay.” 

Izzy stepped forward into Edward’s space. They stood there, inches apart, breathing each other in. Izzy watched as smug satisfaction spread across Ed’s face. 

But the expression returned to a sneer when he heard the sound of loose gun powder hitting the floor. Izzy raised up Edward’s empty gun, pulled soundlessly from its holster. “Fool me once…” he breathed before tossing it uselessly onto the ground. He continued, pulling a knife from Ed’s belt and another from his boot, before tossing them both aside. 

Ed’s expression grew more and more irritable as Izzy worked. 

When satisfied Edward was disarmed, he turned and walked back to where Stede stood. 

“Are you alright dear?” Stede breathed. 

There was a loud scoff from behind Izzy, but they ignored it. 

Izzy felt a strange sense of giddy relief. Stede seemed like such a fragile thing and yet here he was, worrying about Izzy. 

Izzy trailed his gloved fingers along Stede’s cheeks. Stede leaned into the touch. “Takes more than that to hurt me,” Izzy said, dismissing the concern. 

“Your foot…” Stede began, a conflicted mix of emotions crossing his face at he glanced over Izzy’s shoulder. 

Izzy shook his head with a soft, “later.” He knew Stede had questions that needed to be answered, but it could wait. 

Stede glanced downwards, a blush spreading across his cheeks despite the situation. 

Izzy rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. “Prude.” 

He allowed Stede to retrieve his nearest robe, a dark green one that Izzy was secretly rather fond of, and draped it around his naked form, guiding his hands through the sleeve as if Izzy was a child. 

He felt a bit like one in Stede’s unnecessarily billowy robe. He didn’t complain though. The captains scent clung to it, surrounding and comforting Izzy. All the while he felt Ed’s presence at his back. 

Stede flitted around the room for several minutes, giving Ed a large birth and avoiding his gaze. Ed didn’t move from beside the bed, eyes boring into the back of Izzy’s head. 

Stede returned to stand in front of Izzy, now with a robe of his own, an obnoxious yellow thing, and a damp rag which he pressed to Izzy nose. 

There was a slight ache, but it was minimal. He’s already shoved the cartilage back into place, which was the worst part in his opinion. 

“There,” Stede said, pronouncing him satisfactory as he set the rag aside. “Does it hurt?” 

Izzy shook his head.

Stede leaned in, his lips brushing the tip of Izzy’s nose. “Kisses make it heal faster,” he breathed, before stepping away again. 

“Twat,” Izzy muttered, blinking back the sting of tears as his chest ached with a sudden fullness. 

“Do you want some… uhm, you know what?” Stede whispered conspiratorially, eyes flitting over Izzy’s shoulder again. 

Izzy hesitated. He knew what he wanted to say, but he wouldn’t push Stede. This wasn’t his fight. 

He decided the truth was best. “I’m already healed.” Stede’s poorly hidden disappointment was a not unwelcome surprise. “But it couldn’t hurt,” Izzy added hurriedly. He paused. “What about…?” Izzy asked, tilting his head in Ed’s direction. 

Stede’s eyes flitted downward, the pink blush burning across his cheeks and exposed chest now. “I don’t mind,” he breathed, almost too quiet for even Izzy to hear. 

Izzy hadn’t expected that. He’d wanted Stede to offer him blood. He wanted Ed to see that Izzy didn’t need or want him anymore. But this… this Izzy hadn’t considered. 

Izzy stepped forward, his chest flush against Stede’s. He savored the warmth of his skin as he pressed his lips to Stede’s ear. “Do you like to be watched, Bonnet?” his tone was teasing, but not cruel. He slid his hands to Stede’s ass and pulled him forward, grinding against the hardening line under Stede’s robe. 

Stede began to quietly splutter, attempting to step out of Izzy’s grasp, but the first mate didn’t let him. He rolled his hips forward, eliciting a soft gasp. 

“Me too,” Izzy breathed, nipping at Stede’s earlobe and enjoying the way it made him shutter. 

He could feel Ed’s furry at his back but ignored it with greater ease than he’d expected. 

When Izzy withdrew, Stede seemed to be standing a little taller, a foolish grin on his reddening face. He looked over Izzy’s shoulder, meeting Ed’s gaze before gesturing cordially towards the tall armchair. “If you’re staying Edward, you should make yourself comfortable.” It wasn’t a question. 

Izzy turned to look at Ed. Waiting for his response. He thought Ed would argue, insist on staying within swinging distance, or simply spit obscenities before storming out of the room. He did neither. 

He stomped angrily to the armchair and slumped into it. There was a challenge to the look he gave Izzy, and something else, something dark and hungry lurking around the edges. 

Izzy felt Stede’s hand find his and gently pulled him towards the bed. He hesitated for only a second, his eyes locked with Ed’s, before he followed. 

Stede drew the curtains along the edge of the nook. They were sheer and provided no real privacy, not that he wanted it, but Izzy still found himself relaxing the way he only did when they were alone. 

Stede settled against the pillows, legs outstretched loosely in front of him, his robe doing little to conceal his arousal. It was a practiced position and Izzy settled wordlessly into his spot on Stede’s lap. 

Izzy placed a knee on either side of Stede’s hips, trapping his cock between them as he relaxed against Stede. He pressed one hand loosely to the side of Stede’s neck, the other resting against his chest. 

They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing each other in. Stede’s heart pounded so hard Izzy could almost pretend it was his own. 

He wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like if he’d met Stede’s when he was human, if they’d been able to grow old together. But those thoughts brought only mystery and he pushed them away. 

He nosed along Stede’s throat as the captain leaned into his touch. Izzy dragged his fangs over the sensitive skin before sucking a deep bruise just above Stede’s collar. 

He could see Ed moving from the corner of his eye. He wondered if he had already seen enough and was going to leave. Instead, he appeared to be making himself more comfortable. 

Izzy wanted to be angry at him for staying, for choosing to watch Izzy fuck the man he loves… loved? Rather than walk away from a fight. He wasn’t though. 

Some dark part of Izzy was glad he stayed. Not for revenge, but because that part of him yearned for the years when this could have been just another night. Ed liked to watch… Izzy liked to be watched. For years, it had been easy. A perfect match. 

But things change. People change. 

Stede gasped as Izzy’s fangs pressed into the delicate flesh. He relaxed against the pillows, one hand coming up to stroke Izzy’s hair. “That’s it, that’s my good boy,” he hummed in a wonderfully familiar way. 

Izzy whimpered against Stede. He forced himself to drink slowly, small drops of warmth that spread from his tongue to his toes. He wanted more, wanted everything Stede had to give him. 

Izzy licked a stripe along Stede’s throat, the small wound healing in his wake, savoring the taste. He kissed along Stede’s jaw, his chin, to his lips and then he was being kissed within an inch of his well… not life. 

Izzy’s fingers slid from Stede’s neck to his leaking cock. He moaned into Izzy’s kiss as Izzy swiped his thumb over the sensitive tip. 

They broke apart, panting. Stede gripped the back of Izzy’s head and held him there, forehead to forehead. 

“You’re making a mess captain,” Izzy rasped. 

“Can you blame me?” he breathed, grinning devilishly. He kissed Izzy again, just a soft brush of the lips, but it sent shivers through him. 

Stede released Izzy, swiping a haphazard curl from his forehead. There’d been a cut there when Stede returned, but it was long healed. 

Izzy released Stede’s cock, bringing his hand up between them. “Told you,” he breathed, showing him the glisten of pre cum across his thumb before sucking the digit clean with enthusiasm. 

Stedes watched him, pupils blown wide and hungry. He slid a hand to each of Izzy’s hips and pulled him closer, pressing the line of Izzy’s body against his own. “Hold on sweetheart,” he commanded, grinning wickedly. 

Izzy didn’t have time to respond before Stede was sweeping him up with surprising agility. He dropped Izzy back onto the bed, pulling him forward, Stede leaned between his thighs. 

Izzy panted, green robe spread out around him like spilled oil. His arms splayed above his head. He stared up at the captain, surprise and amusement playing across his lips. 

Stede bent forward, pressing Izzy’s legs apart with his weight as he leaned over him. His eyes followed a golden ray of morning light that slotted through the curtains and across Izzy’s cheek. 

“You are magnificent,” he growled, eyes hungry as they watched Izzy. 

Izzy’s mouth open, but no sound came out. His throat was suddenly thick. 

Stede grinned, knowing full well the effect his words had. He glanced towards the sitting area, “isn’t he, Ed?” He called. 

Izzy followed Stede’s gaze. Ed still watched them with that same intense expression. It wasn’t quite anger, nor lust, nor even envy… but it bore into Izzy like a physical thing, nonetheless. After a long moment, he nodded. Just one small movement, but Izzy couldn’t deny the thrill he felt. 

Stede pressed his lips to Izzy’s ear again. “It would appear neither of us can keep our eyes off you, love. You are simply,” he nipped Izzy’s earlobe, “irresistible.” 

He kissed along Izzy’s throat, sucking bruises into his collar, kissing his chest. He flicked his tongue over one of Izzy’s nipples. Izzy arched into the touch, a soft whimper escaping his lips. Stede repeated the gesture again and again, before sucking in earnest. 

Izzy cried out, one hand going to Stede’s hair and the other gripping the sheets at his side. He wasn’t sure if he was pulling Stede in or pushing him away. He just knew he wanted more, more, more. 

He rocked his hips against Stede’s groin as the captain moved to his other nipple. He teased the sensitive flesh before again sucking until Izzy cried out. 

At long last, Stede sat back, surveying Izzy with a satisfied look. He trailed his fingertips along Izzy’s sternum and belly, running them across his hip to Izzy’s knee. There was a nasty scar just above it that dented in the skin. 

Izzy had said there was a limit to his healing and Stede should just be grateful the leg stayed on, but neither could help wondering if things would have been different if Izzy hadn’t been living on scraps for years.

Stede tapped Izzy’s knee and he lifted it  without hesitation. Stede brought it to his lips, kissing across the scarred tissue before moving down his knees and across his shin. Stede hesitated, allowing Izzy to pull away if he wanted. When he didn’t, Stede slowly kissed over his ankle and the sensitive arch, to the spaces where his smallest toes used to be.

He kissed the two nubs gently before kissing the remaining toes. He placed Izzy’s ankle over his shoulder, kissing it one more time when he was in it place. 

He watched Stede, transfixed by the way the light caught his curls. He reached up, running his fingers slowly through Stede’s hair before cupping his face. 

Stede kissed his palm, watching Izzy with a tenderness that made his chest ache. Izzy withdrew his hand, replacing it on the bed beside him. His vision darted downwards to Stede’s length. 

Stede smiled cockily as he stroked himself, Izzy’s eyes following every move. Stede pressed the head to Izzy’s folds, teasing his entrance. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched Izzy try to suppress his small pleading whimpers. 

Izzy was half blood drunk and half dead tired (well, technically all dead and half tired), resulting in the world taking on a soft haze and his own mind quieting in a way it rarely did. 

“You ever going to fuck me bonnet, or am I supposed to just watch you play with your d—ah—fuck,” Izzy groaned as Stede thrust into him. 

Stede bore down on Izzy, practically bending him in half. Izzy wrapped his other leg around Stede’s waist, his arms going to Stede’s neck and pulling him closer. 

He was surrounded by the captain, so covered with his warmth it felt like Izzy’s own and he lost track of where he ended and Stede began. It didn’t matter though, all that matter was that Stede didn’t stop touching him. 

“Y—yeah, right there. Fuck. Fuck, please Stede,” Izzy begged, not knowing what he wanted but needing more, more, more.

Stede seemed to understand though. “Is this how my sweet first mate likes it?” he cooed in a tone that should have been obnoxious, but instead shot like lightning to Izzy’s dick.

Izzy whimpered, his cheek brushing Stede’s chin as he nodded feverishly. Stede kissed Izzy’s temple before pressing closer to his ear. He braced one arm over Izzy’s head and with the other he held the first mate to him. 

“You love being filled don’t you? Love the feel of your captains cock stuffing you full?” 

Izzy didn’t know where Stede had learned to talk like that, but if he ever found out he’d send them a gods damn gift basket. 

“Yeah, yes,” he panted, struggling to follow Stede’s words as the captain withdrew nearly all the way before thrusting back in, causing Izzy to see stars. “‘s so good. L-love it—ahh—love you,” he whimpered, pressing his face into the crook of Stede’s neck, apparently unaware of what had just transpired. 

Stede, on the other hand, crushed Izzy beneath him with renewed exuberance. For once, he had been struck speechless, only a small whimper escaping his lips as he took Izzy. 

“There! Th—fuck, fuck, yes, Stede!” Izzy cried as ecstasy washed over him. Stede continued to fuck him through his orgasm with no sign of slowing. 

“Say it again,” Stede rasped against Izzy ear, his movements becoming erratic. 

Izzy wracked his brain, each thrust against his over sensitive cock breaking his concentration. Had he said something? He’d said Stede’s name just now and a lot of cursing before that, but… 

Izzy froze as the memory finally materialized. He hadn’t thought he’d said it aloud and now that he knew he did, he wondered if he could leap out the window and into the ocean before anyone noticed.

Stede must have felt the way Izzy stilled beneath him as he released Izzy’s hair, griping his chin instead. He pulled away minutely to look at Izzy, only slowing his pace the slightest bit. 

“Say it again,” Stede growled, eyes dark as they watched Izzy’s face. 

Izzy gnawed on his bottom lip, trying to find words that wouldn’t come. Stede shook his chin, just enough to pull Izzy from his ruminations. “I said, say it again,” he ordered. 

Izzy shut his eyes, unable to face the rejection he knew was coming. “I love you,” he gasped. Before Izzy could open his eyes again, he was being kissed for all he was worth. It was messy and full of need, and left them both breathless. 

“Me too,” Stede rasped against his lips, “I love you too.” 

Izzy pulled Stede down downwards, crushing him to his chest as he kissed him fiercely. Stede ground down, thrusting against Izzy’s over sensitive cunt until he was tumbling over the edge again. Stede grunted, a huff of air against Izzy’s own desperate gasps and then he was spilling inside Izzy. 

They broke apart with nervous laughter. Izzy felt vulnerable in a way nakedness never had, but to his surprise, it wasn’t terrible. They kissed again, just a small peck before Stede sat back, slipping from Izzy with a wet squelch that made them both wince, resulting in more soft laughter.   

Izzy flexed his stiff hip, frowning punitively at Stede as he lowered it to the bed. “You know I’m an old man, right? Can’t keep bending like that or something’ll snap right off,” he grumbled. 

Stede laughed, not fooled by Izzy’s gruff demeanor. “Actually, my dear,” he said, grinning wickedly, “I believe you are in fact ancient, but that will not stop me from bending you every way I like.” 

“And if my leg snaps off,” Izzy retorted. He crossed his arms over his chest, brow furrowed, but couldn’t quite suppress the grin playing around his lips. 

“Then I’ll sew it back on and try again,” Stede smirked, his voice gentle. 

Izzy rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite find the desire to argue. 

With some chagrin, Izzy remembered their private moment was not actually private. He glanced over, biting remark already prepared, but there was no one there. 

The armchair was empty, as was the table that had held Ed’s weapons. The door stood slightly ajar. 

They were alone.

They exchanged a meaningful look, but didn’t discuss the departure as they sat up, pulling robes and sheets around themselves. Instead, Izzy asked, “did you mean it?” and hoped he kept the nerves from his voice. 

Stede smiled and it was so warm Izzy could almost feel it heating his skin. “Of course darling. I wouldn’t say that just for… show.” Stede didn’t say the name, but they both knew what he meant. He cupped Izzy’s cheek, leaning in to kiss his nose, his forehead, and finally his lips. “I love you Izzy,” he breathed against them. 

Izzy responded by kissing him until they toppled back onto the bed, laughing breathlessly as they tangled together once more. 

[demonologue]

When your personal failures as a player become almost as entertaining as the game itself...

This is a series now. What the fuck?

Characters: Astarion, Tav, Gale, Lae'zel, Shadowheart

Pairings: pre-Bloodweave

Rating: M

Summary: Camp should be a place to rest and recharge. But after recent events, tempers are running as high as the stakes. An erotic dream, a nightly feeding ritual, and a sudden explosion of drama. Will someone please pay for these people to go to therapy?

or

Astarion has absolutely had it with Tav.

Why Does He Hate Me So Much?

The crackling of the campfire is the most subtle of ambient noises, yet more than enough to cover the sound of his silent footsteps. A ridiculous ritual, the way the four of them huddle around it each night, bedrolls stacked almost end to end in a circle. The only one who doesn’t have their own tent is Tav, child of the wilderness that he is. But that’s hardly an excuse to make everyone else sleep out in the open.

There are stupid games that go along with this ritual. On clear nights, Tav encourages everyone to gaze up at the night sky and name stars, find constellations. When the sky is cloudy or there is no sky at all, he forces everyone to tell stories. All petty emotional drivel. But Tav is so predictable. Ignorant, self-important, bleeding heart of a fool that he is.

Astarion despised him from the moment he first laid eyes on Tav. His homespun sincerity is revolting. His open honesty anathema to everything Astarion is and aspires to be. By rights, Tav should be ridiculously easy to manipulate. And yet, he did not respond as expected to the mirror pantomime. At first, his sympathy was insulting, and then. Well, he just did as Astarion told him to do. “You’re beautiful.” Of course he is beautiful. The unimaginative boor didn’t even attempt a more florid compliment. That’s just plain insulting.

Astarion should have killed Tav when he first clapped eyes on him. In fact, he would have if it hadn’t been for the girls. If it had just been Shadowheart, he could have overpowered her easily and made a quick meal of both of them, but Lae’zel… Astarion had been so relieved to be quit of her shortly after that. Because Lae’zel can neither be fooled nor sweet-talked. Her mind is like her unsightly alien visage: crude and obscenely obtuse. She is far too literal for Astarion’s refined and subtle ways. And she is strong. She would have torn his lovely head from his shoulders in a moment.

Why this formidable warrior chooses to follow an empty-headed, good-natured git like Tav is beyond Astarion. Where does the loyalty come from? What does she see in him? Well, his physique is…adequate. But surely that can’t be all. Actually, it might be. Lae’zel is a shockingly simple person. But why fawn over an imbecile like Tav when there’s a superior specimen like Astarion within arm’s reach?

These thoughts all flit by in a moment. This is all part of his nightly ritual, where Astarion reminds himself just how much he hates Tav before he feeds on him. Granted, he doesn’t need any more motivation than the endless, unslakable hunger that torments him, but Astarion likes to look down at that sleeping face and wish it ill. He enjoys it, really. Too much of Astarion’s day now is spent pretending to be cordial and agreeable. Someone has to pay for that.

It is this thought which finally makes him crouch down, slinking closer to his prey on hands and knees, fangs bared. There will be no challenge to his feeding tonight. One of the many things Tav does not know and will never question is how Astarion is able to feed on him without waking him now. Every child knows you don’t grant a vampire permission–but not this oafish buffoon, apparently. The more Astarion feeds on Tav, the more control he has over the tiefling, the easier it is to lie to him, to enthrall him, to make him do whatever Astarion wants. Even now, he can cut off Tav’s senses, prevent him from hearing, feeling, waking as Astarion’s fangs pierce his flesh and he drinks his fill.

There was a time he worried that Tav’s stupidity might dim his own wits if he fed from the druid too often. That, however, proved not to be the case. Thankfully. Can you imagine being so dull? He’d sooner go back to stalking the forest for his nightly kill. That bear had been quite enjoyable, in fact.

Across the camp, there is movement, and Astarion’s glowing eyes flick toward it, even as he gorges himself on mouthfuls of Tav’s thick, too hot, half-devil blood. But it’s just Gale. Betimes he likes to watch this nightly ritual. Intriguing behavior which Astarion does not mind one bit, because Gale has the good manners not to interrupt.

He watches now, silently, standing in the shadows cast by the flickering campfire, hands at his sides. One day he will do more than watch. Astarion is certain of it, and he relishes the possibilities. Knowing he has an audience, Astarion plays it up a bit, growling softly as if Gale is a rival predator threatening his kill, gouging Tav’s bedroll with clawed fingers before grabbing his barrel of a chest and jerking the large body closer to his in one feral movement.

The intellectual corner of his mind knows it is time to stop drinking. Tav will be dizzy and sluggish in the morning; he has been feeding Astarion every night for the last week. A stupidly altruistic arrangement which Astarion happily takes advantage of. Let the fool kill himself with his own morally superior generosity.

Gale’s eyes reflect the firelight darkly. Is he aroused by this? Well, who wouldn’t be, really? Every mortal secretly shivers with delight at the thought of a vampire’s kiss. And yet, knowing that it’s Gale Dekarios watching him…enjoying the view…it sends a small thrill through Astarion as well.

He’ll never give Tav the satisfaction of proving the idiot’s theory that he is in fact somewhat of a fan of the famous wizard. Like everything else about Astarion, that’s none of Tav’s fucking business. But it is true. When he was alive, Astarion enjoyed following the wizard’s legendary exploits. To think that very same wizard pitches his tent right next to his own each night now…

Unexpectedly, he is jolted from his reverie by a lascivious moan–and it’s not his own. Not Gale either, sadly. It’s bloody Tav. He knew the chaste do-gooder would succumb to his animal magnetism eventually. And it makes sense���it’s insulting, but it does make sense–that it’s Astarion’s feral side that has inspired such a reaction in Tav. He is a thrice-damned beast-fucking druid, after all.

“Let me…touch you,” he mutters, and Astarion is right off his food. He recoils at the request, seriously considering backhanding Tav for even presuming to ask. But not while Gale is watching. Astarion hasn’t worked out yet exactly what Gale thinks of Tav. He might lose points with the wizard for harming the tiefling, and that just won’t do.

As he sits back on his haunches, the sleeping Tav moans again, and Astarion is not displeased to see how Tav’s body has reacted to him tonight. He has no interest in it, of course, but it’s gratifying just the same to see he’s still got it. Truthfully he was beginning to wonder if Tav was some sort of eunuch, the way he showed absolutely no interest in any of them.

Of course, he claims to have paternal feelings for all of them, but that’s not only repulsive, it's complete rubbish. No one feels warm and paternal for strangers they meet on the road, even if they have all just been infected by ilithid parasites. And how dare Tav suggest he could possibly be fatherly in any way to a superior being more than a century older than his big purple self? The mere thought is preposterous. Utterly.

Tav never consulted any of them first to see if they were remotely interested in having such a relationship with him, or wanted an unwashed druid father-type constantly fussing over them. Astarion would personally rather die. Again.

Shadowheart, of course, completely fell for it. She’s a needy mess, though, that one. Hardly a challenge. Her tragic orphan backstory fits too perfectly with Tav’s do-gooder, adopting lost children persona. Of course she has a daddy complex. Astarion wouldn’t touch Shadowheart’s open psychological wounds with a ten foot pole. Those two deserve one other.

But Tav is still talking in his sleep, muttering, “I won’t fail you. I swear it.”

And suddenly Astarion knows exactly who he’s dreaming about. He throws his head back in a high-pitched giggle, quickly muffling his laughter so as not to wake the others. Delicious. The big buffoon is enamored of their dream visitor.

Astarion knows, because their patron did visit them earlier this evening when he was waiting for the others to fall asleep. They’d had an edifying conversation, as usual, which had ended with the astral prisoner charging them not to make his efforts be in vain.

In speaking with the others, Astarion has discovered they always have the same dream, though the visitor appears differently to each of them. A githyanki dragon rider for Lae’zel, a tall, rugged tiefling for Shadowheart (really, that daddy complex is the size of a city ward), and a sweet-faced half elven youth for Tav. He would be that type. No doubt Astarion looks too old for his tastes. Gale of Waterdeep sees the visitor as his estranged goddess and lover, and Astarion…has been careful not to reveal the form the visitor takes with him. It’s hardly any of their business who he sees commanding him in his mind’s eye.

But the real question is…why is Tav still dreaming of his fey-blooded boy now? The visitor has gone. He must have quite the infatuation, for his tiny mind to still be worrying at this little morsel. The demonic glee that fills him to find such a weakness in their self-appointed leader. What fun Astarion will have tormenting him about his stereotypical crush: the noble knight desperately in love with his liege lord. Pathetic.

“Get away from him, or I’ll spill your innards on the ground at your feet.”

He’s shaken from his machinations by the glaring cat’s eyes of their githyanki escort. Her instincts are remarkable, but Astarion turns the gas lights up high, out of habit. “Lae’zel, I’m hurt. You know I’d never do anything to harm our darling Tav.”

She props herself up on one elbow and gestures with a large hunting knife. “He’s still bleeding, shka’keth. If you’re going to lie openly, do it well. I suggest you close the wounds as you usually do. He deserves at least that much for his foolish sacrifice.”

Astarion tilts his shoulders, defensive, posing. “Well, in that at least we are agreed.” Not that Tav deserves even the smallest amount of kindness, but that the tiefling druid is a fool.

“‘s going on?” Shadowheart sits up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“The is’tark has used Tav again for his supper, and seems to find amusement in letting him continue to bleed into the dirt.”

Shadowheart is suddenly wide awake. “No, Tav!” She begins to crawl toward him, her fingertips glowing with divine light.

“Stop!” Astarion hisses, throwing out a hand to keep her at bay. “Don’t touch him while he’s under my control.” These magics don’t mix well, to say the least.

“Under your control?” Her wide, innocent eyes darken as shadows race across her pale face. “Release him! Immediately!”

“Friends, please. I believe this is all a simple misunderstanding.” Thank the gods for Gale. If not for him, Astarion would have abandoned this motley crew of imbeciles days ago.

“I must relieve myself.” Disinterested in the camp drama, Lae’zel stalks off into the darkness alone to do her business.

“Don’t you take his side,” the cleric tells Gale hotly. “He admitted to having Tav in thrall!”

“That’s quite the accusation to be tossing around,” Gale remarks calmly. “The vampire has to keep Tav still when he feeds so as not to hurt him. He promised our friend there would be no pain, nor interruption to his sleep.” Keen eyes flick to meet Astarion’s crimson ones. “Isn’t that right, Astarion?”

He sits up straight, looking deeply offended that Shadowheart should accuse him of such villainy. “As I said,” he replies. “I would never harm our darling Tav. He’s kind enough to indulge me so that I can be stronger in the morning. The better to support all of you, of course.” A beatific smile and awkward laugh accompanies these words. She’ll believe it; she has so far.

“Then there’s nothing wrong if I do this.” With a defiant look, Shadowheart reaches across Tav and heals the bite marks closed. Her divine magic sparks against Astarion’s blood magic, and Tav wakes, immediately.

“Here.” Lae’zel appears out of nowhere, handing Tav a jug of fruit juice, from the smell of it. It turns Astarion’s stomach. Both the fawning gesture and the smell of fresh fruit.

“Oh.” Tav stares at it, his dim wits even more dull with blood loss and first waking. And then he does the thing Astarion despises to the roots of his soul: he looks straight at him and asks, “What’s wrong?”

Tav is constantly asking all of them a variation on this theme. Are you alright? How are you feeling? What can I do to help? It makes Astarion positively sick. And just now, he’s too annoyed to mask it.

“Oh, am I supposed to confide in you? Just because you’re a kind soul and purport to care about my well-being? Really, darling. Is that genuinely what you were expecting?”

“Astarion.” Gale’s tone is a warning. Don’t ruin a good thing.

Utterly perplexed, Tav looks to the girls. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” Lae’zel replies, flatly.

“He had you under some dark enchantment!” Shadowheart accuses, determined to be daddy’s favourite.

Tav looks back at him. “Astarion wouldn’t do that,” he says with frightening certainty. “We have an agreement. I trusted him, and I know in my heart he won’t betray that trust.”

Lae’zel nearly spits out the grog she was in the midst of drinking. Shadowheart looks at Tav as if his naivete has finally caused him to lose some of her respect. Feeling more than adequately insulted for one night, and disgusted by the whole charade, Astarion scoffs and stalks off toward his tent.

Behind him, he can hear Gale speaking to Tav. “Maybe it’s better you let me deal with Astarion for a while.”

“Be my guest.” There’s frustration in Tav’s saintly voice now. “I wish I understood why he seems to hate me so much.”

“You shouldn’t have turned him in to the Gur.”

Gale Dekarios is defending him to the stupid oaf. Him. And he’s saying everything Astarion has been holding back for days in an attempt to play nice and keep himself surrounded by vaguely useful meat shields. He imagines his heart threatening to beat again as Astarion slips inside his tent to eavesdrop. This is almost better than sex.

“I didn’t,” Tav says, defensive.

He knows full well what he did was unforgivable. So much for being the noble hero. So much for loyalty and trust, Mr. ‘What’s wrong?’

“I wasn’t going to let him take Astarion. He’s still one of us. I know he was acting on orders when he did that. But Gandrel deserved to know the face of the man who took his children.”

“We don’t know that they’re dead.” Gale is still defending him. Astarion is so pleased and flattered, he’s almost…aroused.

“Oh, please!” Of course Shadowheart would take Tav’s side. “What else would a vampire lord want with little children?”

There is a beat of silence as the conversation takes this inevitable plunge into darkness. All five of them know what Cazador did with those children.

“I do not make it a habit to speak for other men,” Gale says softly. “But I truly believe Astarion feels bad for it.”

He’s dead wrong; Astarion doesn’t give a damn about children. Awful things! But is it hot in here? He searches for an ivory folding fan he purloined from a jeweled chest in the monastery.

On the other side of camp, Tav’s voice surges to a roar, and Astarion freezes in place. “He should feel bad about murdering people’s children!” It is a sudden and shocking transformation not unlike when Tav explodes into an owlbear. Astarion peers out from behind the tent flap to see their kind, generous, and patient leader shaking with rage before he stalks into the forest alone.

Good. It’s only what he deserves.

“Tav!” Astarion watches as Gale catches Shadowheart’s arm before she can go running off into the forest to soothe her favourite tiefling.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but there are dark places within a man’s heart into which he should not be pursued. Let’s leave our Tav to his thoughts for now.”

“But!” She is so eager to go to him. Weak-willed. Pathetic.

“Just…for now.” Gale nods, firm in his pronouncement.

“Come.” Lae’zel takes her hand and draws Shadowheart back to the fire. “Let us shoot dice to pass the time. I do not believe any of us will return to our slumber soon.”

As Gale returns to his tent, Astarion ducks back into hiding. And listens to the wizard’s bespoke boots making their way straight toward him. His footfalls pause outside the vampire spawn’s tent. Astarion only hesitates a moment. “Thank you, Gale. It’s nice to know at least one person in this party appreciates me.”

“You are a formidable opponent, and a valuable ally. Morality is an odd thing; a bit primitive, one might say. Such codes don’t really apply to people like you and me.”

With a sly smile, Astarion steps out to join Gale. “Hear, hear.”

“Copper for your thoughts?”

Astarion is so annoyed, he breathes. He still forgets sometimes that he doesn’t have to do that anymore. “Do you think he hates me? He really should, by now, you know. I actually hope he does. Do your worst, troglodyte!” He poses, defiant, addressing the direction in which Tav disappeared, but not speaking so loud that the girls will hear him. He’s had enough of arguing for one night.

“No, I think he cares about you. Otherwise he wouldn't be so upset.”

“Well, fuck. ”

But Gale’s not finished. “I think he cares about all of us. For some reason…” The wizard sounds just as puzzled by the phenomenon.

“What in the hells am I supposed to do with that?” There’s an unpleasant sensation in the back of Astarion’s throat. He doesn’t like it, and nearly tells Gale to take back what he just said.

“That, my pointy-toothed friend, is entirely up to you.” As usual, Gale is not sorry. Astarion respects that about him. “And now I will say good night.”

“Good night to you, darling.” He waits for Gale to disappear into his own tent before slipping silently into the forest. He needs to kill something now. Just because. Only one of many things the others will never be able to understand about him. And Astarion is fine with that. Really. Ready or not, here I come.

[four-loose-screws]

FE7 Novelization Translation - Chapter 11 Section 7

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———————————

Chapter 11: Four-Fanged Offense (Section 7)

“...No matter how I trample him down, he still stands against me. Why does he anger me every time I look at him? Even though he is my flesh and blood son…” Desmond growled, just before a woman’s voice reached his ears.

“Keh keh keh… It is because you are jealous.”

“Who are you?!”

The person who appeared to answer that question was a bewitching woman with glittering gold eyes. “It’s Sonia.”

“Oh, it's you… So then, the emblem safe?”

“Yes. Everything went according to plan, and it is with us for safekeeping.”

The Fire Emblem - Bern’s stolen treasure, or so the story went. Just as Queen Hellene suspected, Desmond had removed it from its place, and entrusted it to the Black Fang.

“...I think it unlikely, but it is not out of the realm of possibility that the queen’s men will try to take it back. Will everything be okay in that circumstance?” Desmond asked to reiterate the risk.

Sonia answered, her tone full of confidence, “There are no holes in our defenses… It is under our tight protection in the Black Fang’s main base…”

“Keep it hidden until the evening of ten days from today, then return it to me.”

“Understood.”

“By the way, about my one other request…”

“It will be assigned to one of the Four Fangs. Even in an extreme circumstance, there will be no mistakes. Just one thing. About the general, Murdock, guarding the prince… while he is young, he is known for his great strength… Would it bother you if he was taken alongside the prince?”

“...Though he was born low class, his strength is so great that he has been named one of the Three Wyvern Generals. His passing would be a great loss to Bern. …I will conjure up a reason to pull him away from Zephiel. Will that be enough?”

“Yes, please do. Wait…!” Just as Sonia was finishing their conversation, the color drained from her face.

“What is it?”

“...I sense that someone is nearby.”

“What?!” Desmond instinctively whirled around to check his surroundings. No one could hear of the plot they were constructing. The moment it became known, it would lead to his downfall.

“Faaather! Big Brooother! Where are youuu?”

But the moment he realized that the presence they sensed was his daughter, Desmond breathed a sigh of relief. “You have no reason to worry. It is my daughter."

“...I see. …Do not forget our condition of giving the Black Fang your support upon our success."

“Understood. Now hurry away from here!”

“Farewell.” Sonia disappeared into a teleportation circle just as Guinevere appeared in front of Desmond.

“Big Brother! Um, the kit… Huh? Big Brother?”

Desmond said curtly to his daughter looking for her older brother,  “He said he had business to attend to, and returned home.”

“Awww, no way! No no no! I wanna play with him more!”

“Guinevere, how about I play with you?”

"No! I wanna play with Big Brother more than you! I'm gonna go ask him. Here, hold my fox!"

Guinevere had not even a clue that her father hated the big brother she loved so much. She handed her fox over to him, and left the garden once again, chasing after Zephiel.

Desmond's hands shook in anger around the fox.

His feelings unquestionably stemmed from his jealousy and loathing towards Zephiel.

"...Is anyone there?!"

"Yes, Milord!" In response to his call, seething with rage, a single soldier appeared.

"Kill this filthy beast! And make sure that Guinevere does not see you do it!"

"Yes, Milord!"

Desmond forcefully pushed the fox onto the soldier, then shouted in frustration, "...Curse you, Zephiel! Trying to win Guinevere over from me… I'll make sure you know your place!"

His expression was so full of rage that it was unimaginable it was directed towards his very own son.

☆

Ninian was waiting in the castle town for the lords' return.

"...I hope Lord Eliwood and the others are alright." She said quietly, worried sick about them.

Nils heard her, and said with an exasperated look on his face, "Enough already, Ninian! That's all you've been talking about this entire time! I know you're worried about Lord Eliwood, but still."

They had repeated several versions of this exchange a few dozen times already.

And with each new time, it became more and more apparent just how deep her feelings for him were.

Nils hit the nail right on the head, making Ninian's face flush deep red.

"N-Nils! I…!"

"You don't have to hide it. …But you can't fall for him. We're… different from everyone else."

"...I know. But… I…"

They were different from other people.

She'd known that since long before they met Eliwood. If either of them married, it would one day lead to misfortune. The reality of that truth burned greater within her chest than any fire.

But she wanted to cling to the kindness that Eliwood showed her…

ー

After having successfully escaped their potentially dangerous situation, Eliwood, Hector, and Lyn were able to safely return to their allies.

They shared that the risk paid off, and they had gathered information of critical importance - the king of Bern was already working with the Black Fang, anf the Fire Emblem was being kept under strict guard at the Black Fang's base…

Now that they knew Desmond was connected to the Black Fang, they had no time to waste. They needed to hurry right away to the Black Fang's base, retrieve the Fire Emblem, and get the information from Queen Hellene about the Shrine of Seals.

Though they were impatient, they didn't even know the most vital piece of information - the base's exact location.

And that was exactly when Matthew and Legault returned.

"Hey, Matthew! You got some nerve disappearing without saying anything to me…! Where were you?!" Hector shouted, venting at the spy the frustration he'd been keeping bottled up.

But Matthew brushed his shouting off and said nonchalantly while pointing at Legault, "Oh, I was just searching for the Black Fang's base with him."

At Matthew's answer, Hector’s anger vanished in a single second.

☆

[fancifulflora]

Commander Talon Vespero

another day another oc lmao, this time it's for The Exile but @exilethegame It's definitely another IF I'd recommend so check it out if you can

Portrait of Commander Talon Vespero, adoptive son of Queen Marcelle Naulvonte and Queen Consort Emeline Naulvonte.

Name Meaning: “Vespero” comes from “Vesper”, Latin for “Evening Star”

Age: 29

Birthdate: ???

Pronouns: He/Him

Height: 206 cm/ 6’9

Weight: 114.8 kg

Appearance: Glimmering, scarred tan skin weathered by hundreds of battles. Steely silver eyes with sandy blonde, ear-length hair that is swept back on special occasions. A pair of large, slightly curved horns sweeping up and back against the head. Very tall in stature, deep-chested with dense muscle to create a wide and firm build. Deep jagged scars on their back where large, leathery wings used to be. When in battle, dons a dark heavy metal suit of armor with a deer skull helm. When outside of battle, opts for practical clothing, leather pants, light linen tunics, something to move around in. One or two harnesses for a sword and dagger.

Noticeable Attributes: Sharp fangs, Freckles on their shoulders and back, large scar over the right eye,

Default Expression: Stern

Character Traits: Kind, Loyal, Protective, Impulsive

Description:

Sources unknown, a brief summary of the Deathless Demon, ex-Commander and the former protector of Plaithus

The legendary Deathless Demon was many things: a murderer, a traitor to his country, a son, and more. At his core, however, he was a victim of Fate itself, a self-proclaimed unwilling villain in a story not of his own making.

Talon Vespero possessed the classical features one might attribute to a fairy tale hero. With his large frame, blonde hair, and fair eyes, he seemed the epitome of a hero. He was known by those close to him to but stern, but kind. Loyal to a fault and protective. But, even before his eventual exile, the commander committed an untold amount of atrocities in the name of Plaithus. Acts that he would not have otherwise agreed to, if not for his peculiar position as an adoptive royal. He knew very well of the cesspool that was the Plaithian nobility, yet waged war for their benefit and that of his adoptive mothers anyway.

Even then, the nobility jeered at him for his mysterious, possibly low-born background. They shot dismissive, sometimes even aggravated looks at him when he returned from the frontlines as if they had hoped the eyesore would meet his end in battle. Snide comments and vicious rumors ran rampant within the court, all about this supposed ‘monster’ that protected their great kingdom. Eventually, all their meaningless ramblings found their way to his ears.

Yet he continued his battles, if only to please his Mother and ensure the safety of his dear sister, Esmerelda. They had given him something precious and dear to him, something that made all the suffering worthwhile: a family.

Still, over time, his seemingly eternal love for his family strained under the unimaginable weight of all his responsibilities and consciousness. He abhorred the war and held no disdain for the fae, magic, or the enemies of his people alike. Commander Vespero even went so far as to demand a stop to the bloodshed. He even did what he could to help evacuate civilians and protect them before the waves of soldiers, his soldiers, rushed in.

His final act of defiance was his ultimate betrayal. That day, the Deathless Demon slew countless soldiers and maimed his second-in-command, a secret love of his at the time, and his protégé.

At that point, there was little the Queen and Queen Consort could do but strip him of his wings and exile him. It was either that or execution.

And so, the next three years passed, eating away at the remnants of the Commander until one fateful day when he returned, still acting like a protector to his family as he ran to save his sister from two gorgon assassins.

Bonus Information:

MTBI:  INTJ-A, The Architect

Temperament: Choleric

Zodiac: Virgo Sun, Scorpio Moon, Capricorn Rising

Alignment: Neutral Good

Greatest Assets: Hope and Resilence

Greatest Flaws: Combative. Very Combative. And Critical.

[navibluebees]

Pieces of a Soul - Chapter 4

Please read before interacting.

Warning for a little bit of blood and atonement.

After the announcement, we went back to the base, giving everyone time to think over and accept what was to come. Naomi felt a pang of pity for Jake. He was handling an unimaginable situation so well.

Over the next week, the Omaticaya came and set up dwellings, made a fire pit, brought everything they had. Some preferred to live a bit closer to the trees, but they were all near the gate. Naomi sat in the lab, flipping through one of Dr. Augstine’s old field notebooks. She read each note and tucked away each piece of information she could glean. The chair across from her was pulled out. Norm sat down, a worried look on his face. She shut the book; this was not a normal expression for him. He was usually off with his kids, smiling like he couldn’t get enough.

Over the time apart, Jake and Norm had met up regularly, resulting in Norm being around the clan more. This led to him becoming a father. Many children were war orphans now, and he’d bonded with a few who absolutely adored him.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

He sighed deeply and said, “I’m worried about you. I want to help if you feel stuck or scared or whatever. I’m here for you.”

She pinched her lips together, trying not to cry. He reached for her hand and said,  “I wonder if it’s time for you to use your Avatar.It’s been a while since you got here and now that things seem to be settling down, it might be a good opportunity for you. Plus, it’s pretty awesome to not need a mask when you go out,” he added with a dry chuckle.

Naomi looked toward the window and tried to cover her trembling mouth as a tear slipped out. Norm rose and came around, grasping her hands in his. “Hey, if you really aren’t ready, you don’t have to.”

“No, no I want to. I’m just so afraid. So much has happened and it’s a new thing and what if I don’t do it right and what if I make a bad Na’vi and -“ She stopped, feeling his hands squeezing her arms. She paused, taking a deep breath, struggling to claw her way out of the spiral.

“You are great. You know so many things about the environment and will have less limitations in an Avatar body. If you need to stop, it’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Naomi sniffed and threw her arms around him, holding him tightly. In such a short time, he’d become so much like an older brother to her, even closer than her biological brother had been on Earth.

“I’ll do it.”

~~~

She slowly laid down in the pod. Her body was swarming with nerves like a hive of bees in her stomach. Norm held her hand tightly. “I’ll go in right away so I can be there when you wake up. See you on the other side.” He smiled and ran to his pod while Max started hers. The lid began to close and she shut her eyes hoping to drift off quickly. 

Bright lights flashed in her eyes and someone was tapping on her face. Her eyes focused and she was startled to see Norm’s Avatar face hovering over hers. “A bit close, huh, Norm?”

He snorted and helped her sit up. Her extremities began to tingle as she gained feeling. She wiggled her fingers and toes, too afraid to look anywhere but at Norm. The medical staff checked her vitals and motor control. All too soon they said, “Alright, you’re good to stand.”

Naomi wobbled a bit as she rose, steadying herself with a hand on the bed. She turned and startled as she tapped an IV pole with her tail. She grabbed it and studied it, becoming giddy when it twitched from excitement. Someone spoke behind her and her ear swiveled. She gasped and reached up to feel the rounded edges of her newer, longer ears. She whirled and started toward the mirror, too curious to be afraid anymore. She grinned widely at herself, watching her fangs poke out more. When she looked higher, tears sprung to her eyes. She’d been so scared of this moment. So unsure of how she might feel. Her eyes were a bright green, reminding her of a peridot gemstone she’d seen in a textbook. Her bioluminescent spots, so faint in the light, were the pattern of her freckles on her human face. Even in this new body, she felt so much like herself.

She turned to go outside and toward the Avatar sleeping quarters to find her cot and new clothes. Norm followed after and showed her where her new body would rest. She was able to find a comfortable outfit of a soft, sleeveless shirt and shorts, being careful of her queue as she changed. Seeing the small tendrils of her nervous system made her gape in awe.

After she stepped out, Norm had some fruit ready for her. It was so much more enjoyable fresh and she breathed deeply, enjoying the peace of the moment. A whoop slipped out of her and she took off running, vowing she would never wear shoes again. Even without the bond, she felt so much more in this body, the soft Pandoran soil turning up under her feet.

She spun around, reeling, and locked eyes with a face outside of the fence. Keveya stood with a faint smile on his face, growing as she walked closer to the fence. Many of the clan preferred to live beside the Avatars rather than the machines. He had been patching up his tent and had paused at the noise.

He stood as she came closer, noting her joy and the flush across her cheeks. She paused, breathless, and took in his appearance in the daylight. He was tall as all Na’vi were. His loincloth a dark green, his knife strung across his body, a crystal handle outside of the sheath. His braids were pulled back off of his neck with a leather band, the beads sparkling among his hair.

She reached for her wrist to twist her bracelet as she had over the time she’d worn it. Not feeling it, she had a sense of panic before remembering it was on her other body in the pod.

“Uh … I can’t wear the bracelet in this body. Sorry.”

“Why do you apologize? You have done nothing wrong.” 

She began to twist at the hem of her shirt, worried she might have upset him.

“I will make you another. Was it to your liking? Would you like something else?”

“No, no, I love it!”

“Do you want to come with me to gather the materials?”

“Oh, um, let me ask if I can go.”

Naomi turned and sprinted back to Norm to ask if she could explore with Keveya. Concerned, Norm asked, “Are you sure he’s the best person to be around?”

Naomi trembled as she held a pleading hand out to him. “Mìmuk said he is different. I want to know if that is true. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

With a firm nod, Norm handed her an ear piece and the connecting throat band, making her promise to call if she needed anything.

~~~

As she exited the gate, she began walking to the small group of tents, Keveya popping out from his as she got closer.  He had a new pouch slung around his waist for gathering materials. He gestured toward the forest and turned to walk with her close behind. The storm of panic reared its beastly head and she reached for his arm, stopping him in his path.

“Why did you attack me?” Her voice came out small.

Weak, she thought.

Brave, he thought.

It was time. Keveya turned and breathed deeply. He paused. What words could heal this? He fell to his knees, desperately clutching the hand she had put on his arm. He pressed it to his forehead, slowly rocking on his heels. She sunk next to him, aware of eyes that watched them curiously. Her need to appease, to soothe, began to overwhelm and blind her senses but before she could speak, he cut her off. He looked at her deeply and she was snared in his amber eyes.

“I am so deeply sorry. When I saw you, I was engulfed with grief. Both of my parents were torn from me. My friends, neighbors, my home… When I saw you, you were just another human in a suit, here to destroy. To take. I am so ashamed I have caused you this pain. I have witnessed your kind heart. You were helpful and curious and I crushed you. I am so sorry and I wish to heal this hurt I have caused.”

Stunned, Naomi stared at him, unable to form words. She sat for a moment, struggling to comprehend the riot of emotions clashing inside her.

Worried by her silence, he looked up at her. When they locked eyes, she quivered. “I See You,” she whispered.

His face crumpled with sorrow and something akin to relief. His hand trembled as he reached for his knife. He unsheathed it swiftly and held it out to her in a supplicating gesture. Confused, she pulled away.

Bowing his head he said, “You must cut. As I did.” 

Tears sprang to her eyes. “I can’t…”

“Please,” he begged. “It is atonement. It is our way.” He slowly extended his leg to her, resting the knife at his calf with the handle toward her. Her fingers shakily closed around it. He nodded at her. Her brain couldn’t forge even the simplest thought. She brought the knife down.

~~~

Keveya seemed lighter after Naomi cut his leg. She trembled and dropped the knife in the grass. He wiped her hand off with a cloth tucked into his pouch.

“What if your feelings overtake you like that again? I don’t want to get hurt again.”

He smiled softly at her and brushed a stray curl away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “It is nothing you have to worry about, little one.”

He rose to walk toward his tent, shooing off her help. It was something he must do on his own. He fought the limp the whole way there. 

Once it was wrapped, he went back to her, seeing her curled up on herself as she sat in the grass. She immediately hid her face before peeking out slightly at him. He gave her a lopsided smile before patting her hair and smoothing the flyaway curls. “Naomi, it is alright. It was my punishment to take. Let us go make you a new bracelet.”

He carefully helped her up, wrapping a hand around her arm to guide her. As they went into the forest, he held leaves aside for her, showing her through to a clearing full of fan lizards. She gasped and ran through, scattering them around as they spun away. On the other side of the brush, she could hear water. He camee up behind her and gestured for her to keep going.

“We come to the water to look for a stone or shell to make into beads for your bracelet. Wait, do you want something different?”

Naomi shook her head, “No, a bracelet is good. I like to twist it when I get nervous.”

He offered an understanding smile. They began to sift through the sand at the edge of the water with their fingers. “Wait, Keveya, how did you know my name?”

A bit shamefaced, he met her gaze and grimaced. “Neytiri made sure I did. My pain is my explanation, but it is no excuse-“

Hooves pounded through the forest. Keveya looked up at Naomi wide-eyed and snatched her up from the stream, hauling her out of the way up to a hollowed tree. Pa’li broke through the brush, hunters riding atop them. They paused after seeing him, then realized someone was behind him. 

“Who have you got there?” One of the men snickered, teasing Keveya.

Keveya’s face grew hot, unsure what to say. Naomi placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch feather-light. He turned to her still blocking her from view. She gave a small smile and stepped around him. The hunters were a bit unsettled seeing her Avatar form. One rode forward and dismounted, walking closer to the two. Tongue-tied, Naomi managed to get out that they were looking for materials for a bracelet. 

The hunter smirked and looked down at her, still managing to be taller than her even in her Avatar form. Mìmuk glanced between the two of them, an unspoken question on her face. Her gaze was too intense to meet and Naomi ducked her head. “Little one. You have grown.”

[anemia-rp]

"That's true, I have had people use my past against me before." She recalled with an annoyed expression, remembering how several people have used her past and insecurities against her. "As for being nice to me just to be kind, well that I wouldn't know unless I asked them, at least for the most part." Her eyes followed to his tattoo and she thought about it for a moment, giving a bit of a shrug. "Maybe that's true, but they also say that about things we have done in our past so I could understand why you would call them that."

"I think the longest I have gone without dying my hair since I started was probably a year, but it felt so odd to see myself with dark hair again." She looked at him a bit surprised before shaking her head some. "That's okay, we all have a style that we regret at some point. I know I've had plenty, like my spikes and my braids."

She bit back a small whimper with a bit of a gulp at his words. Truthfully she was feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement, though she wouldn't say it out loud. She honestly curious what it would be like, would it be like the rumors she heard growing up or would it be more like in movies?

"I'm not surprised." He snorted. "But to be honest, it happens damn seldom that someone really changes completely. The past will always stay a part of anyone. It's just my experience." A smirk grew on his face. "Guess the goal is it to make peace with your demons. The more you try to fight them, the more they try to fight you in return."

For some while he eyed her, grinning and chuckling in the end. "I really can't imagine you with dark hair. Just like I can't imagine myself with blonde hair. It wouldn't suit me a bit." He amusedly shook his head. "Let's say we've been experimental and that's not a bad thing. It's probably necessary if you wanna find yourself. However, twenty years ago it would have been unimaginable to look like I do these days when you're part of the hip hop scene."

He found himself enjoying their talk more and more; opening up and speaking about deeper things was nothing he regretted today, quite the contrary. It instead made him crave for more, but at the same time he was curious for other things about Reno, too. One of them was her blood - and the way she would react to being bitten. She didn't even need to say she was excited when he could smell it. His arms wrapped around her, and he was stunned about how petite she was, it almost felt like hugging a doll. But her skin was warm and his fangs dug into it as if it was mere butter. Once he felt the blood coming to the surface he sighed deeply and pressed his lips against the small wounds he had caused, all while pulling her even closer to his body.