#why is my knee-jerk reaction to not knowing how to react

[cb-writes-stuff]

How-

HOW does this image describe so much than I could with words. It’s unfair.

Anyway, thank you, I’m flattered.

[arowitharrows]

I know that the term "loveless" can cause a knee jerk reaction with lots of people. I know the term can be tied to hurt feelings, painful accusations, silent worries and a strong urge to defend yourself.

But I need people, especially aros who aren't familiar with the concept, to understand that the reclaiming of that word is born from the very same hurt. Only instead of saying "I'm not loveless, I can still love" which often goes hand in hand with a silent "I am still worthy because I can love", loveless aromanticism asks "why am I, as an aromantic person, constantly having to defend my worth as a human being?" and "why can't we instead have a conversation about how respect for another person should not be tied to whether they feel one emotion?" and "why do you choose to reduce the vast complexity of lived human experience to one feeling?" and "what if I don't feel love? What if I don't understand love? What if I've been hurt by love? What if the concept of love makes me deeply uncomfortable, am I still allowed to exist in peace?"

The point is, I see many aros react in a hurt and defensive manner when confronted with lovelessness, and I see many loveless aros react to that in a similar hurt and defensive manner. and it's just all the same hurt.

[pokechbi]

Hey! Thank you a lot for your works, I literally want to kiss your hands!!

Here’s my request: Simon’s reaction that reader uses toys. Like now reader has him and why’s she still using them. That’s kinda a main idea

English is not my mother tongue so I hope you’ll understand what I meant 👉🏻👈🏻

Thank you so so much!! Your feedback means the WORLD to me <333 Hope you enjoy!

🎀Let me be your fuck toy, darling🎀

Simon Riley x Fem Reader !!

NSFW!!! MDNI

Fem anatomy used

WC: 1.5K

Enjoy babies 💗

It had been exactly one week since Simon slept in your apartment for the first time. It had taken him a while to get comfortable enough to sleep in someone else's home, but you didn't once think of blaming him. The stuff he'd been through would drive the devil himself to tears. You understood why he was nervous about letting his guard down. So when he finally fell asleep on your couch for the first time, you jumped up in joy, snapped a picture of him and hopped around your apartment happily. You sat on the floor in front of the couch, watching him as he snored, his balaclava still snug on his head.

Nowadays, he slept over more often than not. He would sleep in your bed, an arm wrapped around your waist, or a hand stuffed in between the warmth of your thighs. This often led to you staying up way past your bedtime, wishing he'd wake up and just start fingering the life out of you. He knew that this made you horny. He knew that the lack of friction drove you insane, that it would keep you from sleeping. You cursed him as he slept like a baby while you suffered.

So you did what any girl would do. You went through your nightstand, pulling out the vibrator you purchased months before you and Simon met. You stuffed your fingers in your mouth, bringing them down to your cunt as you slid your panties off with the other hand. You kept your eyes on a shirtless Simon as he snored, his hair disheveled and sprawled all over his forehead. You took note of the balaclava next to his pillow, smiling at how he'd gotten more comfortable sleeping with it off. As you spread your legs open, you switch the vibrator on, slipping it between your slick folds, resting it on your clit. The sudden stimulation causes you to jerk, letting out a soft yelp. You hadn't used it in some time, being that Simon was your go-to for pleasure. But he was torturing you, and you couldn't sleep until you let go of the tension. You cover your mouth with your free hand, your breathing shaky as you feel the nerves of your clit electrify with the vibrations. You needed to cum fast, the toy wasn't the quietest. You didn't know how Simon would react knowing you used a vibrator without him knowing. And you didn’t want to find out. You closed your eyes, imagining you and Simon together, your legs wrapped around his waist as he slams into you repeatedly. You imagine his moans and guttural groans, as they usually turned you on so much and helped you reach your orgasm. You smile as the scenario plays out in your head. You start bucking your hips slowly, moaning quietly into your hand as you feel your core begin to tighten and the toy turning slippery with your slick.

Your heart drops as you feel a strong hand grab yours, squeezing your wrist so hard your fingers drop the vibrator. He grabs it, turning it around in his free hand. It's shiny with your slick, the smell of you wafting off of it. He's sitting up on his knees now, staring down at your face. You can tell by the blankness in his eyes that he was pissed. More than pissed, he was utterly enraged. Simon had a traditional way of viewing sex. He didn't think you needed toys because you had him. And (big surprise), he's a dominant man who expected you to be patient and wait for him to please you. But you couldn't.

He looked down at the vibrator in his hand, scoffing quietly to himself. He lets go of your wrist, the stinging pain incapacitating your entire arm for a slight moment. You stare up at him, your breathing picking up in nervousness as he keeps quiet. He reaches down, gripping your jaw so hard your muscles instinctively react, your jaw now hanging open wide. He smiles devilishly, bringing his other hand up to your face. He waves the vibrator in front of your face, sliding it under your nose so you smell yourself on it. He chuckles lowly, his gruff voice sexing your ears. He suddenly shoves the vibrator in your mouth, rubbing your slick off on your tongue as you squirm under him. His grip on your jaw grew stronger as you whined and squirmed, not letting up on you. His smile ran a chill down your spine. He was staring at you, a glint of predatory hunger in his eyes. 

“Tsk tsk. Such a desperate little whore. Couldn’t even wait for me to wake up.” He growled. You squirm under his grip, whining as he pushed the vibrator further down your throat. You gag, your eyes rolling back into your head as the taste of yourself swirls on your tongue. He removes the vibrator from your mouth, painfully slow. Your eyes tear as he does this, a grin on his lips as the tears fall down your face. You cough, your breathing becoming heavier as he stares down at you pitifully. He shakes his head as he chuckles, leaning down to your face. He crashes his lips with yours, hungrily biting your lip. He doesn’t let go, bringing his teeth down harder on your bottom lip. You feel him reach down, parting your legs with a strong hand. The taste of his saliva mixes with the taste of your slick, an erotic aroma lingering between the both of you. Your head burns with white hot pain as he bites down on your lip, causing you to whine out in pain. He brings a palm up, slamming it down on your thigh. You feel the sting linger, your head throbbing with misery. He lets go of your lip and backs away, a string of saliva connecting you to him. He leans back on his knees, stroking himself through his boxers as he watches you squirm. He holds your thigh down with a death grip, his fingers digging into your skin. He groans, throwing his head back as he begins taking his boxers off. You watch him, your mind aching with a mix of fear, and arousal. He never failed to make you wet just by the mere sight of him naked. You squeeze your thighs together, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Like what you see, love?” He chuckles, moving himself between your legs once more. You notice the vibrator next to you, still glistening with saliva. He looks between you and the vibrator, a devilish smile on his face. He grabs it before you can react, switching it on. He turns it around in his hand, bringing it up to his mouth. He licks a stripe over it, coating it in his saliva. He smirks as he brings it down to your clit, a jolt running through your core as he slides it between your folds. The warmth of his saliva makes you buck your hips instinctively. You close your eyes, shame coursing through your veins. You suddenly feel him slide the toy down, slipping it inside of you. You cry out, your eyes squeezing shut tighter. “Look. At. Me.” He demanded. “I don’t care how ashamed you are.” Your eyes fly open, struggling to stabilize your vision as the vibrations graze your spongy G-spot. You moan out, your gaze connecting with his. He smirks down at you, bringing the vibrator back up to your clit. Your hips buck upwards, squirming under him as he moves himself closer between your legs. You feel the warm tip of his cock line up with your hole, shamelessly pushing its way into you. Your head swirls with pleasure, the two sources of stimulation causing your core to bubble instantly. You moan softly, bucking your hips forward. 

“Fuck. So fuckin’ tight, lovie,” He groans, pushing his throbbing length into you. He starts to thrust, holding the vibrator against your clit steady. 

“What makes you think you can use these useless fuckin’ toys when I’m layin’ right. Fucking. There.” He grunts, thrusting into you with every syllable of his words. You mewl under him, squirming and mumbling nonsense as beads of sweat start to appear on your forehead. He presses the vibrator into your clit harder, expecting you to answer him. 

“ ‘m sorry Simon. ‘m so sorry.” You whine. Your walls pulse and warm with every thrust, the vibrator causing your orgasm to conjure instantly. “n-need you…just your cock Simon…please, ‘m sorry.” 

“Atta girl.” Simon groans, turning the vibrator off, and tossing it to the floor. You breathe heavily as you come down from your orgasm. He leans down, his breath searing your ear.

“Let me be your fuck toy, darling.”

[remcycl333]

STEP 1 - CHANGE WHAT YOU’RE AWARE OF

notes from “the creative use of imagination” by neville goddard 🤍

step 0 is to decide what you want. maybe you want money, or a new place to live, or an sp, or physical appearance changes.

step 1: begin to observe those thoughts and reactions towards the thing you want to manifest.

“to arrive at a certain definition of self, you must begin by uncritically observing your automatic reaction to an event, for your reaction defines your state” -NG

throughout this post, I will use the example of physical appearance change.

maybe throughout your day, you see pictures of other people on social media that you view as more attractive as you, and your reaction to that is “I wish I looked like them, this isn’t fair why am i not as attractive as them, what do I need to do to look like them” etc.

or maybe you see yourself in the mirror and you think “god why do i look like that, why am i not attractive? why hasn’t my face changed yet?” Etc

if you were in the state of having your desired physical appearance, would you be reacting that way to your 3D?

the first step to changing our state is to first learn the way our old state behaves and reacts to things. it is our current dwelling state that is reflecting in our 3d right now, and when you stop and observe your reactions to things, it becomes glaringly obvious how they’re creating your 3d. if you’re ruminating on how ugly you think you are all day long, you cannot be surprised when you look in the mirror and are dissatisfied with what you see.

“If you react to that which is being objectified, you bind yourself to a certain level of awareness, but if you refuse to react, the thread is broken.” -NG

“Only by observing your reactions to life can you find yourself.” -NG

how are you supposed to know what state you are in if you don’t observe your reactions? And once you begin to observe your reactions, Neville says you will be shocked by how deceitful you truly are. but he always urges the importance of uncritical observation. you should not shame yourself for what you find, or even feel bad. these observations are simply meant to show you your current state, and the ins and outs of it so you are able to change it more easily.

“always examine yourself uncritically, for the moment you become critical, you automatically justify your reactions and associate yourself with the thing observed.” -NG

once you begin to observe your reactions, you will become more aware of them when they happen. they’ll grow to become uncomfortable and glaring. they will feel like they don’t fit you anymore. maybe before they were just knee-jerk, unconscious reactions, but now you will feel them take up the space in your head whenever they arrive. and because of this, you will be able to shift your awareness to what you really want your 3d to reflect. you will be able to let go of the parts of yourself you no longer wish to identify with.

“be transformed by the renewing of your mind by changing the ideas planted there, for you cannot change your thinking until you change the ideas from which your thoughts flow.” -NG

your state creates your thoughts, not the other way around. it is critical to understand this if you wish to change your dwelling state. your thoughts are not your enemies. if you constantly battle against your thoughts, without ever paying mine to your state, you will not have much success.

“accept an idea as true. identify yourself with it and it will out-picture itself in your world. but if you do not accept the thought and identify yourself with it through feeling, you are free from its results. you must become very selective and learn not to associate yourself with unlovely thoughts.” -NG

this is not to confused with the term “mental diet.” when you react negatively to something, you have two options. 1) beat the thought down and panic and tell yourself the opposite without believing it to be true, or 2) choosing not to identify with it. remind yourself that this thought is just a thought. it has no power over you, and if you don’t want it to be manifested into your reality, it will not. Neville says if you do not consent to a thought as true, it will not manifest into your world. if you don’t associate your inner being with that thought, it will not come to pass in your 3D.

“start now to consent only to lovely thoughts of fulfilled desires prior to their confirmation by your senses, and give up the animal instinct of suffering and bathing yourself in the feelings of hurt and self-pity.” -NG

ruminating in unpleasant thoughts where your desire remain unfulfilled can be comfortable, and even habitual, but at the end of the day it is a choice. a choice that you have to stop making if you truly want better for yourself. this is something I struggled with a lot at the beginning of my manifestation journey. there was some twisted pleasure and comfort found in picking at scabs in my mind, and feeling sorry for myself, and imagining what would happen if my desire was never realized in my 3d. but eventually I had to choose better for myself, and I had to choose to stop giving so much attention to mental conversations like that.

“control your imagination with steady attention and dare to stand and be heard.” -NG

YOU create the happenings of your imagination, and your imagination creates your reality. do not feel silly or foolish deciding better for yourself in your own imagination. and do not let the logical restrictions of the 3d to tell you what you can and can not give yourself in imagination. give yourself what you want in imagination and stand firm in that, even if your 3d shows the opposite. stop silencing yourself in your own imagination!

this is my thoughts and notes only on the first two chapters of “the creative use of imagination” so more may come as I continue my re-read! 🤍 just wanted to share this :)

[jeonscatalyst]

About the ham/pink sausage thing I'd love to know if you think bucking up at ur partner(Assuming jkk are couple or have romantic feelings for e/o) like that in front of other ppl can happen btw couples...... friends? Yes. Siblings? Yes. But couples? I wonder......if my partner does that (jk was kinda pissed because they questioned his knowledge of food or wtv that is) in front of other ppl I'd feel disrespectful maybe not by siblings and friends but definitely by my partner. Of course i don't believe any of the members have that kinda nature where they hit someone that's completely false I believe that. Can you imagine you and your partner in their place? Your partner bucking up at you like that in public? You won't feel disrespected? And i know you'll say jk was joking, he joked when he did it second time but the first time was his honest reaction. It irritated him that they didn't belive he was right.

Hi anon,

Short answer to your question is yes, it can happen. I’ve seen so many people give so many takes about the pink sausage/ham moment but I refrained from saying anything about it until I got my thoughts in order. So many times when people judge other’s actions they look at it from a perspective that they are used to or through a particular lens that makes sense to them forgetting that in this big world with over 7 billion people, there are different people, different cultures and ways of life so what might mean one thing to you, might mean something else to a different person.

I don’t understand why that was a big deal to people ( I mean I do kinda but…) because anyone who has watched even one kdrama or knows even a little bit about Koreans in general knows that koreans do that alot when they are mad or irritated. They buck at other people like they are going to hit them with no intention of actually hitting them. Parents do it to kids, siblings do it to each other and even people in seasoned relationships relationships do it as well. Jk wasn’t going to hit Jimin, that’s for sure. It’s just that was a knee jerk reaction at that point and from the reactions of Tae and Jimin, that wasn’t something Jungkook did often because Jimin didn’t seem used to it judging from his reaction.

I understand what you mean about feeling disrespected especially if that is something that happens in public but I doubt some koreans will see it that way mostly because it is something they are used to. Plus, sometimes people could be intentionally or unintentionally disrespectful to their partners, that isn’t news.

While that moment left a bad taste in some people’s mouths, I actually found it cute….not necessarily because Jungkook bucked at Jimin but because when you watch that scene, you notice that Tae was the one who started saying it was ham and he was also the one who kept insisting it was while Jimin only said it once but that one time Jimin said it was the only time Jungkook doubted himself about it. I also found it interesting that even though Tae was the one who repeatedly insisted that it wasn’t pink sausage, we only saw Jk’s emotions towards Jimin and nothing towards Tae. Now, most people whom I like to call shallow or fickle would rejoice at the fact that Tae didn’t react to Tae who was the instigator but reacted to Jimin who only said it once but to anyone who understands human emotions and knows a little bit of something about life, that single moment right there was more than enough to tell whom among the two Jungkook is emotionally closer to.

That moment to me will go down in history as one of the biggest moments that showed just how close and comfortable Jikook are with each other.

Typically, you are more likely to get annoyed at someone you are closer to because you have more expectations of them than the ones you are not as close to. There is also an emotional investment. Being closer to someone usually means you care more about their opinions and actions so when they do something that bothers you, it impacts you more deeply. You generally also feel more comfortable expressing or showing your frustration at someone you feel closest to because your relationship with them feels secure so you are not worried about how you might come off because you both know each other extremely well, while with a friend you are not as close to, you tend to be more forgiving or less affected by their behavior because your emotional investment is lower, and your expectations might not be as high. Anyone who watches that clip would wonder why on earth Jk only expressed his annoyance at Jimin and not Tae who actually started and instigated the whole thing and this is not to say Taekook aren’t close because we know they are but Jikook just have an insanely deeper emotional connection and bond.

Some people think Jungkook was just joking but I think he was truly annoyed and maybe even a little hurt, and his annoyance (though might sound abit silly) probably came from the fact that he expected Jimin to side with him but Jimin didn’t or expected Jimin to trust his judgement more. To so many people it might have just been a silly argument about ham and pink sausage bit to Jungkook, it was probably more and some might to relate or understand his annoyance but that doesn’t mean his feelings about the whole thing shouldn’t be respected.

Jimin’s reaction was also very telling and even though he handled things in a funny and dramatic way, I think Jungkook’s actions shocked him to a certain extent and he probably felt bad about it but he must have understood at some point why Jungkook reacted so intensely. Jimin’s actions also shows how much he knows and is emotionally close to Jungkook because if that were another person, Jimin would have probably cussed them out but he had this extra patience with Jungkook probably because he understood why Jungkook got like that. Compare the way Tae reacted after Jungkook made a statement about him being weak to Jimin’s reaction. One of them was clearly the reaction of a friend (Tae straight up warned Jungkook not to take things far else someone would see blood) but Jimin’s reaction was more….emotional. Jungkook’s reaction in the two cases too were telling. With Tae he was quick to say “yes sir” when Tae called him out but with Jimin, he didn’t look like he was ready to let go of the annoyance yet and even after they finished eating he kept glaring at Jimin till Jimin apologized.

Reminds me of that Live from May 2019 in Newjersey where Jimin and Jin turned off the Live before Jk arrived and Jk was so pissed he went to start his own Live. All Jin had to do to get Jk’s forgiveness was apologize once while Jimin had to follow him to his room apologizing yet Jk still didn’t let him off easy. These are things that could seem very trivial to people but that shows you that Jungkook might just have more expectations when it comes to Jimin while he doesn’t really get that affected by other’s actions. The rainy day story is also a good example that shows how Jimin’s opinions affect Jungkook differently. He has mentioned so many times that he tries to emulate Jimin’s actions so that already says alot about how much he values Jimin’s opinions and how much expectations he generally has when it comes to him so when he feels disappointed, it just triggers a more emotional response. It also gets a little weirder when you remember that Jimin is actually Jungkook’s hyung which means that Jimin could have easily scolded him like Tae did with Jk realizing that he had just been disrespectful to someone older and ready to apologize yet that is not the reaction we got from them at all.

So anon, I can see why you would see things the way you do but you always have to consider context and the context here would be that, different things are acceptable in different cultures or societies and things have different meanings to different people. And yes, if Jimin is Jungkook’s lover he might have felt disrespected sometimes things like that happen in relationships anyway so it’s nothing new imo.

[otomiyaa]

Ticklish For You

Marcille x Falin

A/N: I COULDN'T STOP MYSELF AAAAAA SORRY. I'm literally posting this right after I said I'd prioritize the x reader fic requests but it just spawned in my drafts like how falin's tits spawn on everyone's dashboard and I had to post it.

Summary: Marcille discovers Falin has an admirable trait. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 1.2K

"And so, and so, we ate them. I didn't want to, but Laios and Senshi said we should eat them. They tasted delicious, but I didn't want to eat more. Yet I kept eating. That's what happens when touring the dungeon with this lot. I swear to you I -"

It wasn't that Falin wasn't listening to Marcille's stories. But the moment Marcille glanced at her, she could see the smooth skin of Falin's arm beside her, and she couldn't help but stop talking, just to touch her.

"And then? You swear what?" Falin asked, sounding interested in hearing more. Marcille was a little distracted though.

"So it tasted good? I do want to eat it," Falin said. She was always interested in Marcille's horror stories about eating monsters in the dungeon.

Falin didn't really react much when Marcille traced the soft skin of her arm absentmindedly.

"Falin..." Marcille mumbled, interrupting her own story and continuing to trail her finger along the inside of Falin's arm. She scribbled her wrist lightly and sensed no reaction at all.

"There was something I wondered when we were looking for you."

Falin cocked her head. "What is it?"

"It's something I don't know about you, but I think I should know."

"What?" Falin asked again, curious and interested as always. She was so sweet.

"Are you actually ticklish?" Marcille asked after a short pause. Falin stared at her.

"I can be."

.... What sort of answer was that? "Huh?" Marcille gaped at her. Falin nodded.

"I can be ticklish. Not always. My brother used to be a little annoying when we were younger so, I learned how to not be ticklish."

Marcille frowned. Now even for a magician like herself, that sounded like an impossible skill.

"You just un-ticklish yourself? How?"

Falin shrugged. "I don't know. It just happens."

"You are incredible Falin! So if I tickle you now, you can just decide whether you want to feel it or not?"

Falin nodded slowly. "I guess I always feel it. It just does not always tickle and make me laugh, if that makes sense. Why, do you want to tickle me?"

EEP! Marcille blushed and quickly turned away. "N-n-n-no i-it's just, t-the s-subject would c-come up sometimes dududuring our journey and -"

Marcille stopped her babbling when Falin gently took her hand and placed it on her side. She smiled.

"If you tickle me, I can be ticklish for you."

Marcille almost fainted. What kind of new romance thing was that! Breathing heavily, she stared at Falin in disbelief. Her hand that was now placed on her side froze. This was something she couldn't turn down, so...

She slowly started to move her fingers, wiggling slightly against Falin's side. She could feel Falin twitch.

"Ah, it feels ticklish. If you do it a little more, I think I will laugh."

Pffft! She was unbelievable! Marcille still couldn't comprehend how someone would be able to control such a sensation, and she curiously sat on her knees by Falin's side and started to scribble her fingers up and down both her sides.

"H-hehehe, ahaha- it hahahas been a whihile," Falin laughed sweetly. Marcille's eyes widened. It was the first time she heard her laugh in such a tone.

To experiment, she used a little more pressure and squeezed Falin's lower sides playfully. Falin jerked slightly and she let out the cutest little squeak.

"Aheh! It hehehe it ticklehehes!" Marcille could see that indeed! Admiring her reactions, Marcille wiggled her fingers from her sides to her tummy, and she poked her curiously.

"Ah wahahait!" Falin caught her hand, and she looked at her with a blush on her face.

"If it tickles too much, can I stop- WAhh!" Marcille suddenly flipped Falin underneath her and started to tickle her tummy mercilessly.

"No you may not, Falin! You are too powerful. Don't you dare stop being ticklish now~" Marcille said, no longer feeling shy, but just determined to make Falin laugh more. Why she never had tickle fights with Falin before was a question she couldn't think of an answer two. Perhaps they were always just too busy with other things.

"Mahaharcille hahaha!" Falin kicked her legs and squirmed, but Marcille pinned her down firmly. Her tummy, her sides, ah... her ampits?

Falin threw her head back and laughed beautifully. It was a truly unique sight and sound.

"Spahahare mehehe Mahaharcille!"

More and more giggles, squeals, laughter and then....! Silence.

Marcille blinked and watched curiously how Falin caught her breath. She was breathing heavily but no longer laughing, even when Marcille hadn't stopped tickling her yet.

"Sorry Marcille. It's, hehe, it's getting late and I am tired. I can be ticklish again for you tomorrow."

She wasn't lying, she wasn't joking, what!!! Marcille's eyes widened and to make sure, she tested everything. She poked her tummy, squeezed her sides, scribbled her neck and under her chin, tickled her armpits. No reaction at all.

"You really are not ticklish anymore," she sighed. "What a power and control you have, Falin."

Falin smiled. She took Marcille's arm and gently pulled her closer.

"Wait w-w-what?" Marcille sputtered, losing her balance as she fell on top of Falin who still seemed a little tired.

"Well. Is it my turn to tickle you now, Marcille? Only for a little."

Marcille gasped and immediately started to struggle in Falin's arms. "HAH? No no no, it's not fair. It wouldn't be fair. I'm way more ticklish than you are- I don't know how to stop it. I actually can't- waaa!"

Maybe not that tired after all, Falin was suddenly on top of her, smiling gently while she wiggled her fingers.

"That's alright. You only need to ask me to stop, and I will."

That was kind, but the thing is, Marcille wasn't a person who could communicate properly when tickled! She was about to explain this little problem, but Falin already started to tickle her.

"FAHAHAHa-OOOHOho EYahahaha!" Even her attempts at saying things like 'Falin, no!' simply drowned in a hysterical laughing fit.

"I never knew you were so ticklish Marcille!" was Falin's sweet comment. Meanwhile Marcille sounded like some sort of newly discovered monster, wailing in the dungeon.

"EADHAHhaaohouhahaa!"

"What are you saying?"

Falin kneaded Marcille's stomach in a way that reminded Marcille of Senshi making dinner. Ah see. She was already thinking weird thoughts. Getting tickled just did crazy things to her.

In the end, Falin did not seem to realize that Marcille was simply too ticklish to have a fair tickle fight, and too ticklish to ask her to stop. It wasn't until Chilchuck banged on the door to complain about the disturbing noise, that Falin stopped and let Marcille catch her breath.

"I'm sorry Marcille. You didn't ask me to stop, so I thought it was alright. Did I go too far?" she asked with concern. Marcille smiled weakly and shook her head. Exhausted and out of breath, she took Falin's hand in hers and kissed it.

"I'm fine - it's fine. T-thank you, Falin." She had no idea why she was thanking Falin. She may have been a little high after laughing so much.

"I really missed you," Marcille mumbled tiredly, and when Falin took her in her arms and cuddled her comfortably, Marcille could only close her eyes and enjoy the feeling of Falin's love and warmth.

As she drifted to sleep, Falin's words "I can be ticklish for you" ringed through her head, and she couldn't help but giggle. She really was special, and Marcille loved her so much!

[liketwoswansinbalance]

What if Rafal couldn't save Rhian in time? Like Vulcan successfully stabbed him with the pen before Rafal could prevent it?

The comedic answer is that I have one word for you: gibbeting.

That's the more "fun" answer, a form of medieval execution/torture, which was specifically intended to make an example of someone, publicly, to deter further criminal acts, and if Vulcan murdered Rhian, well, he deserves the worst death possible! And why not make it a creative one? However, I think, to an extent, that gibbeting could be too extreme, and that Rafal would recognize that if Rhian were alive, he'd view it as an eyesore, tasteless, or simply too brutal, so it's probably unlikely to happen. But, Rafal might not be above it, considering that the Doom Room exists, so it could go either way, potentially.

Plus, there's some added, bonus "fun" here, in how a certain canon moment would come full circle. Vulcan put Rafal in a birdcage (while he was a black sparrow), and now, Rafal would get the pleasure of hanging Vulcan (or rather, his slowly dying and later, decomposing body) up in a cage, a pretty neat form of revenge, if I do say so myself, haha! Besides, Vulcan was a bit exhibitionistic, wasn't he? So, this would also make for an ironical fate.

⸻

Now for the serious answer. I hope you don't mind it if I get a little more subjective/personal with this one at some point. It's not quite as much an overblown, narrative-style post, and may be more understated than usual.

I took this "what if" ask to essentially mean: how would Rafal react to Rhian's death and how would he mourn Rhian over time? If I misinterpreted your ask, and this wasn't the kind of response you were expecting, please let me know. Also, everything is speculative, of course, so take my interpretations with a grain of salt. I'm open to hearing other opinions!

I think Rafal's immediate, knee-jerk reaction would probably be to murder Vulcan as revenge, but also it would serve the more practical reason of disposing of the tyrant usurper, ousting him from the School permanently. However, I don't think Rafal would find catharsis in it, not this time at least, considering why he is doing it.

He'd have to act on his feet, and quickly, because, Vulcan would still pose a threat to his own life, which would force Rafal to delay any kind of visceral, emotional reaction.

That is why I think the murder would be done instantaneously because speed is more important, and so is getting the task done right. And, having Vulcan dead sooner for everyone's safety is more important than the potential brutality of any kind of gruesome catharsis Rafal could derive from the act. That's why I think Rafal would go about performing this particular murder in a less sadistic fashion, for once, like how Vulcan died in canon by a stab wound, versus the time when Rafal turned Rufius to gold and shattered him, or did worse to others, generally. If Vulcan had simply been a foe who was already incapacitated, that could've given Rafal the opportunity to go for a worse form of murder, but Vulcan isn't harmless.

Thus, employing a "kinder" form of murder in this instance wouldn't be out of sympathy for Vulcan, but more so, to fulfill an urgent need. And, in some sense, the act of murder would be done out of a kind of duty to Rhian, for Rhian's sake and nothing more. I think Rafal deriving pleasure/catharsis out of this murder could possibly be a bit of a slight to Rhian's memory because this is somber business.

Then, after that adrenaline or rage-fueled clarity and the action taken, I think Rafal would next probably feel some kind of uncomprehending fog next because Rhian was suddenly ripped away from him with little warning. His supposedly immortal brother, who was supposed to be with him forever, just died. To an extent, that has to feel surreal.

The surreal feeling could start out as a detached, dissociated feeling, like the kind of out-of-body experience where you're like a third-person observer, (probably a similar feeling as a panic attack?) Like, what? What has my life become? Rhian is suddenly gone, for good.

(The revelation of Rhian's death being real could also prompt a lot of thought as to why their bond wasn't able to save or revive Rhian, and could evoke guilt.)

Once Rafal processes the implications of Rhian's death, his initial outburst could be the most, actual, unbridled emotion he lets out, at all, if ever—maybe, one raw, primal scream of agony into the ether and that’s it. (Yet, I'm also tempted to say, that's too dramatic of a reaction, even for him. As interesting as it is to go to extremes in other cases, I'm attempting to go for something closer to realism here, so bear with me.)

While there is probably a narrow chance, that under the exact, right conditions, he could be driven insane or become an extremist in some way, out of guilt or by how ridiculously unjust the whole situation would be, I think it's a little more plausible that Rafal would just bury himself in his work. He could devote his life to Evil, and still keep it in balance with Good, without Rhian there to keep him in check, even if he was more often the one to keep Rhian in check, from what we saw. (He could also become disillusioned with the world and the Pen.)

Given how I view Rafal, I think he would shut down emotionally but not functionally. He wouldn't let himself dwell on the grief for long, and he might even (irrationally) resent Rhian for dying, at first, on the surface, because he's now got twice the work. And yet, the work would be a welcome distraction from his actual grief.

Additionally, I think Rafal would become numb and immune to all emotional appeals from other people. Not even a trick like Hook reminding him of Rhian would work to convince him to change his mind that he's already made up in any future instance. He's never, never investing himself in the fate of another person again. Not when he could lose them. He just... does his job. Someone has to do it after all.

That said, I think his paranoia level would absolutely skyrocket, too, as a result of the whole Vulcan incident, and that he'd isolate himself more than he already did before.

Now comes the part where this may or may not take a weird turn, and I could be projecting with what I'm about to say, but I think I have actual reason to apply it to Rafal, purely out of thinking it could make sense for him, (as just one of the many possible ways he could take Rhian's death. Again, this is all just my speculation. I could easily be wrong, so keep that in mind.)

Ok, I'm not sure if this is a common or a weird thing to think and I had a feeling it could be controversial. Thus, I'm going to preface it with this: my intention is not to sound callous, but...

I (usually) do not miss people when they are gone. (Death is different from just absence though.)

I doubt that I "miss" people in what is the typical way, from what I have heard from others? Though, I have an explanation. Obviously, it depends, but missing others doesn't occupy my every waking thought. (And thoughts about fictional characters are a different type of thought to arise.)

I feel others' presence when they’re around, and when they’re not around, unless I'm concerned for them, I don’t exactly think about them. It's kind of "out of sight, out of mind," except for the cases in which I actually am holding something to say to them in mind for our next encounter.

I’m sorry if this is strange, but I think that’s how I operate most of the time. I don't "wait around" for people to return because I always have some thing to occupy myself with. Can anyone relate?

I suspect that the reason why is because, to me, missing someone is what I would classify as an active feeling. When someone I love is apart from me, I'm usually busy, regardless of whether they're present or not (that doesn't change), and I know that when you're busy, you don't have the time to feel, at least not active emotions. They just... don't occur to you? Or maybe they are not conscious?

Now, from my view of things, if something you feel becomes a problem, and interferes with your daily functioning or general contentment with everyday life, that could very well surface as a real reaction or outburst. But, that's an entirely different matter. I also think that I am reminded of people at times, but that I usually don't "miss" them without there being some kind of (internal or external) stimuli that causes me to think about them.

Maybe, I'm just projecting onto Rafal too much because I relate to him over other characters, and this is silly, or junk psychoanalysis, but it seemed to fit his character also???

Sometimes, I just want recognition more than I want actual companionship since I don't get lonely. I wonder what that says about me? That I'm an introvert, or lazy because relationships require regular maintenance to sustain them? I promise I'm not a misanthrope!

Ok, back to Rafal. He's sunken himself into his work and as such, he wouldn't actively miss Rhian. (If anyone would like more clarification, I'm not saying he wouldn't grieve Rhian at all. It's not that.)

And, if we're going down a more realistic than dramatic route, he wouldn’t lose his sense of self, or his mind over Rhian. Yes, not even Rhian. I think the only thing keeping him running and tethered to his life would be his commitment to the School/keeping himself alive.

What this makes me think of is how people romanticize grief or unrequited love, how they may end up looking wan and eventually wasting away (well, if we're talking about being heartsick in literary/symbolic contexts...). And, I just don't think Rafal would be the type of person to fall into some kind of "madness" or melancholic malady. Grief just wouldn’t be so debilitating or all-consuming to him because he wouldn’t let it do that to him. He wouldn’t stop eating or sleeping as I would expect these behaviors more from someone like Rhian, not him.

Similarly, he might not indulge in pleasurable things, but he’s a bit of an ascetic already anyway, so that’s that. He could potentially renounce pleasurable things in life out of mourning, in a traditional way, but I doubt that would happen either, to be honest. It probably wouldn't cross his mind. At least, it wouldn't happen on a formal, conscious level, even if he could very well deprive himself without realizing it.

I just don't think Rafal would be engulfed by grief, simply because he isn’t that much of an emotionally driven person or that vulnerable to being swept up by personal tragedy, when compared to Rhian, who's more "wild." He’d only let his grief manifest so far, assuming his emotions do still remained locked down and under his control.

So, while he may think about Rhian regularly, he might just accept the fact of Rhian's death, carry on, and not miss him because Rafal missing Rhian could (implicitly) mean becoming non-functional due to grief (or guilt) and that would be too great of a risk for Rafal to take, considering his current reality alone. Basically, to let himself wallow in those emotions would be an unnecessary "risk," from his viewpoint. That's why he might repress that reflective type of thought.

Such feelings would be too much mess or potential disorder for someone like him, especially if he realized he couldn't keep them contained, and they, as a consequence, actually jeopardized his fate or the School's, assuming the grief made him unable to perform his job properly.

(He'd probably subtly resent the Storian as well, for not preserving Rhian's life.)

Also, one small point: in canon, was his bond with Rhian really, truly all-consuming? Let's stop and ask ourselves that for a moment.

Yes, for a time, their bond may have seemed like it was priority no. 1, but Rafal was apart from Rhian for six months, and might not have consciously missed him, if it took him that long to return after getting an external reminder from his interactions with Hook. It might have taken something outside of himself (like the prophecy) for him to come to the realization that he had to return and reestablish his loyalty to Rhian (which was arguably never gone, just dormant for a while). And this would mean that if left alone to his own devices, had he never been moved by James, or "awakened" and been made aware by Adela Sader, he could have taken longer than even six months to return... if he ever decided to at all, if the thought ever arose in the first place.

So, overall, it would only be rarely, when he has nothing to occupy himself with, that Rafal would grieve in some quiet way, and over time, the grief would fade. It wouldn't leave him entirely, but it would diminish, I think, the more and more he distances himself from everything else.

Also, in canon, I suspect that he lies to himself about how much he cares for Rhian. He never shows Rhian much affection, but he sacrifices his life for him, on instinct, which probably means a grieving Rafal would also lie to himself about how “little” he mourns Rhian. In reality, he’d probably mourn Rhian a great deal more than he could know, but wouldn’t have enough self-awareness to realize it.

Perhaps, at night, he would be haunted by Rhian's memory, and take on Rhian's insomniac trait on occasion. Also, to credit @cursed-daydreamer, I think it would be plausible for Rafal to take on a few of Rhian's traits, unconsciously, to compensate for the loss, and fill his void; it could be a way of keeping Rhian's presence in his life.

Lastly, I doubt that Rafal would publicly erect monuments or dedicate anything to Rhian. He wouldn’t want a painful, visual reminder around. His rituals, if we were to call them that, any form of remembrance, I mean, would likely be private, away from prying eyes and students. Rafal wouldn't want to come across as weak or sentimental. That’s the last thing he needs at the moment, a ruined reputation, another so-called threat to his own life/power. Because, increased paranoia could lead him to believe that if he were to show any sign of vulnerability, more "Vulcans" could prey on him and the School.

He could maintain the cherry blossom trees though, but it'd always be a sobering occasion, and he'd never take the credit.

Besides that, he probably wouldn’t go eulogizing his brother or canonizing him. He can still recognize Rhian's flaws, and to praise Rhian so completely would be "too much," too public, and the performative (or contrived) nature of certain mourning customs like those would probably strike him as "wrong" because they just seem... insincere. I don't think Nevers (if we're assuming Rafal remains Evil) put as much much stock in praise anyway, according to their value system.

The exception to the rule would probably be if he recognized that it would be Rhian's wish, to receive some recognition or a dedication. Then, he would do it, out of reverence, I think. He'd have reason to "excuse" it (Rhian's dying wishes), unlike visible emotions, which don't have an excuse to be felt.

⸻

Also, I was wondering: does anyone agree or disagree? I'm really curious because this ask provoked a train of thought I'd never considered before!

[twipsai]

The Phantom Rider, Sonic's "hero" status, and Sonic's love for his friends: a poorly put-together analysis

so, ive seen a non-zero amount of people say that Sonic taking on the alter ego of the Phantom Rider is out of character for him, and my knee-jerk reaction was to disagree (though, im biased, because i adore the Phantom Rider). but then i thought about the why of it all -- why does it not feel out of character for Sonic to disguise himself to cause chaos?

full post and me over-analyzing a blue hedgehog under the cut

part 1: Sonic will break the rules

well, first of all, Sonic doesnt really care too much about being a hero. he helps people because he wants to, not because its expected of him. weve all seen those satbk cutscenes reposted to hell and back, so let me be the millionth to do so

when Merlina tells Sonic that, upon taking Caliburn, he would become the villain in everyones eyes, he shrugs it off. and even later, when Gawain tries to talk him down from battling Merlina, Sonic dismisses the idea that hes doing this out of some kind of chivalry or duty, that he fights because he wants to.

there are many other instances of Sonic not really caring about rules or social conventions, and gladly breaking them if it means he can save people (dude literally runs from cops in sa2), but its never directly stated as explicitly as it is in satbk.

so, Sonic doesnt care about being a hero, and doesnt care about being a villain in other peoples eyes if he knows hes doing whats right. youd think with this facet of his character, him actively disguising himself as the Phantom Rider would be antithetical to this point, right? if he doesnt care about being seen as a villain, then he shouldnt have to mask his identity. its a fair conclusion to come to, but it also ignores what i think is one of Sonic's core personality traits;

part 2: Sonic loves his friends a lot

its strange to me that not a lot of people bring this up, because he does! from "and Amy... take care of yourself," to "I'll have you smiling by the end of this," Sonic just genuinely loves his friends to death, and doesnt want to sabotage them.

if he runs out there to cause chaos during the clean sweepstakes, completely unmasked? everyone who knows a single thing about Sonic will start to assume bad things about the Restoration. just because Sonic has good intentions doesnt mean hes above the rules, and acting like he is can put people he cares about (namely Jewel and the Diamond Cutters) at the mercy of public opinion.

he cant act like hes above the rules, especially when hes directly associated with the Restoration (even if hes not a part of it) during the clean sweepstakes.

(id also like to point out that here, Sonic doesnt even consider it a bad thing to be completely and utterly chaotic and disruptive at first; Tails has to remind him its a bad idea)

and understandably so! we see how everyone reacts to seeing Sonic as the Phantom Rider, especially Tangle -- its a tough pill to swallow, especially without all the context involved. to an outsider, it looks like Sonic is just trying to sabotage the clean sweepstakes because hes being a sore loser (or, really, any other number of malicious reasons)

but, really, i think that the point im trying to make is summed up best by Amy and Sally (even though its in Archie)

thats just not how they do things. they dont want to cause necessary chaos or danger just for the hell of it, and they certainly dont want to associate the Restoration with that sorta thing -- people look to the Restoration for hope, and while Sonic is associated with it during the clean sweepstakes, his hands are a bit tied. itd be a total dick move for him to basically throw his friends (and especially Jewel) under the bus like that, and he knows it.

Sonic may not care about his reputation in other peoples eyes, but he cares greatly about how his actions affect his friends.

part 3: the conclusion

its easy to assume that, based on how lax Sonic is with rules and social conventions, him disguising himself just to cause a distraction for Amy and Tails to get attention off of them would be out of character. but, based on the circumstances, i think that it makes enough sense given the context for him to take the route that he does.

sorry if this analysis is a little all over the place, im sorta scatter brained right now but i wanted to get my thoughts out about this cuz its been on my mind

[carriesthewind]

Anytime I see someone just wholeheartedly defend piracy for any and all books and whatnot, I wonder how they would feel if they spent some time and care making something, be it a scarf or a painting or even dinner etc., and have someone just walk by and make a comment about how good it looks so they’re just going to take it for themselves. Like personally I would be upset about that and I would have thought they would be too, but with the attitude they have against authors and artists wanting to get paid, I now have to assume they would actually thank the person who was stealing from them. Obviously copyright laws aren’t perfect and authors by and large should be treated better by publishers, but how is stealing, because that is what piracy is, going to help anyone? It’s just so dumb.

I don't know - I think some of it is almost certainly thoughtless, a knee-jerk reaction to not being able to access all the content one wants to. (And I don't even want to entirely dismiss that - media has a strong emotional effect on us. That's the point. To be affected by the idea that you can no longer access something that means so much to you - or that it was wrong to access something that affected you in the past - that is very human, if I don't necessarily condone the way people choose to react.) But I do think it's worth interrogating the analogy, because while I do think what the IA did with the "National Emergency Library" is theft, I don't think all forms of CDL, or even all forms of what would be considered piracy, are theft. And I think the analogy is slippery. There are plenty of published authors who can and do (and have loudly expressed) that they feel that fanfic is theft and have used similar analogies to describe it. (And again, I condone neither that view, not any actions taken to harass or abuse such authors for expressing feelings of hurt.)

Because intellectual property and ideas *are* different. That doesn't mean I disagree with the idea of copyright (though as I've tried to make clear, I don't agree with the current copyright regime that exists in practice). I actually think most people I've seen and interacted with agree that creators do retain some level of rights and ownership over their creation - for example, that's why plagiarism is upsetting to so many people, regardless of any financial gain by the plagiarist. (Though again, most doesn't mean everyone, and there are very different ways that individuals can see, and that different cultures have and continue to conceptualize, intellectual ownership.) And then of course there is the fact that most of the people reading this, and most if not all of the authors affected by the IA's actions live under capitalism. (And sorry for the multiple tangents here, but while I sympathize to some extent with arguments about how artists and authors using and enforcing the copyright regime re-enforces the harmful exploitation of both creation and creatives by the regime, I don't buy it. I see it in much the same way as I see arguments that public defenders and other indigent/free attorney services reinforce the current injustice system. It's not wrong, per se, but the people being ground beneath the wheel of the copyright/legal system have and will continue to be ground regardless of the actions of people mitigating the damage. Our entire social system needs far more reforms, and leaving people more vulnerable (which is what is advocated for) is not an effective strategy for reform, nor is it necessary to destroy the protections - meager though they may be - for those vulnerable to exploitation to the system in order to either destroy or reform the systems as a whole. But then again, I am biased on this point because of my perspective.)

Anyway, I hope this response makes sense. I am slightly intoxicated.

[il3x]

i hope if sayeon developing a (one-sided?) friendship with min is a major plot thread, sleepacross brings back the collective punishment corps thing.

i mean, an Aberrant harming a friend to punish Sayeon for her own weaknesses? her failure to comply with a rule?

may as well just beat her over the head with a sign saying CHILDHOOD TRAUMA at this point!

seriously, it drives me nuts that that is Sayeon's FIRST INTRODUCTION TO THE CORPS. hooooooooooly shit. miyeon was so out of pocket for that entire interaction.

but min taking the fall for sayeon's actions is a recurring thing, likely due in part to min's instructions to be a tool for sayeon. take capture the flag. there's no way this doesn't call back to the jugyeong incident.

and how did sayeon react to that incident?

now, the current Min Plotline is that sayeon has become alienated from and distrustful of ryujin & iseul, based on their knee-jerk reactions when she told them about the Corps killing Jaeil in her loops. however, it looks like min's insistence on proving his trustworthiness is getting through to her. the dramatic irony, of course, being that min is in fact lying to her through his teeth, and barely likes her at all. sayeon's trust of him is based on a false impression.

This Relationship Is Gonna Fuckin' Crash!

-- Part that's more loose speculation --

and you know what other false impression Sayeon had of Min?

she saw him as tough, hardened, someone who could take what anyone could throw at him and come out swinging. this is an impression he also encouraged - brushing off concern for the above incidents (see my Min's Stellar Self-Esteem Compilation). and i wouldn't be surprised if it was partly why sayeon moved past her guilt over Said Incidents fairly well and quickly.

anyway, ahahahaha. haha. ha. wouldn't it be fun if both the impressions came crashing down at once?

-- end loose speculation --

even regardless of whether or not min's apparent toughness affected sayeon's Guilt Levels, samin sending min (which is the pending reveal here) has two core implications: one, that min's liking for/loyalty to sayeon was fake, and two, that he was encouraged to risk himself for her sake. given that samin was instrumental in the root cause of those issues... i think it makes sense for this arc to dredge up sayeon's issues around people getting hurt for her errors!

[saltpepperbeard]

OBLIGATORY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS™ TOWARDS THE NEW OFMD S2 PICTURES

hi y’all. hi besties. every time i think i’m solid and stable on my feet, new footage absolutely pULLS THE RUG OUT FROM UNDER ME ANDNW. EVERY TIME I THINK I’VE SUSSED OUT THEORIES, NEW FOOTAGE IS LIKE LOL NOPE.

So let’s Ramble let’s Discuss because djwndnsnd MANY THOUGHTS HEAD SCRAMBLED-

So this one is the ✨easiest✨ (IN THEORY), and also so very delightful. BECAUSE LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT THESE SMILEY SWEETHEARTS. LOOK AT THEIR OUTFITS AND TEA AND FOUND FAMILY VIBES!!!

I would assume this is on a different ship, or maybe on the “floating market” that was teases in one of the articles. I’m of course leaning towards the Red Flag Fleet based on previous material, but I can’t really figure why or WHERE in the season.

Employing help to catch up with the Revenge? Attempting to stay hidden because Stede ran from the Naval Academy and is subsequently a VERY wanted man? A bit of both?

Either way, CUTIES. (Also that SKY 😩😩😩)

And this one,,, THIS ONE,,,,, 👀? 👀👀🧐🧐???

The first knee-jerk reaction I had to it is an immediate post-reunion shot. He looks very confused—very SHOOK, if you will lol. And he’s still wearing the same shirt he’s been traveling around in for some time. It’s also relatively dingy, which tells me a bit of time has passed.

And that flooring behind him,,, Is that the DECK OF THE REVENGE???

SOOOOOO reunion taking a bad turn? Him tripping back over himself because Ed reacts ENTIRELY differently than he expects? Him just RECOILING in shock???

But then also, I’m like 👁👁, because I feel like it COULD be a misdirect. It COULD be something entirely different. Because I feel like they love doing that with previews lol. Something ENTIRELY innocuous and unrelated to what it APPEARS to look like.

Because, I will say,,, the gloves,,,,,, who is She.

AND THEN THIS ONE,,, 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

does edward teach know i want him carnally

He’s just so so beautiful, but of course we all knew that. WE ALL FIGURED AS MUCH.

I will say though, something that caught my attention in this shot are the marks/cuts on his face. Particularly, the mark/cut on his lip, because it matches up with-

THIS shot. And this in particular is really scrambling my brain l m a o because,,,

My running theory for this was that it was Ed going through some sort of “battling his past phantoms” type journey, and was working towards healing on his own. LITERALLY on his own, because I also thought this came after him falling off the ship/getting thrown from the ship.

And I ALSO thought that him meeting up with the bunch again would come with happiness/healing as a result.

SO SEEING HIM STILL LOOK SAD AND STOIC WITH A BLUNT??? HONEY????? HONEY DARLING??????? I THOUGHT WE WERE GOOD LMAO WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE STILL SAD 😭😭😭

Unless it’s just something more serious, and he IS indeed feeling better. I mean, he doesn’t have his makeup or anything, so he COULD just be in a more grim situation of some sort.

But I digress. #EdDeservesToSmile2kForever

ANNNNNNND THEN THIS LMAO. THIS. THE MOST CONFUSING OF THE BUNCH RIGHT HERE,,,

The position they’re in,,,,,,, 📸🤨

But what REALLY snagged me was Ed’s facial expression qkdjwjdjw like babe WHAT ARE YOU DOING. WHAT ARRRRR YOU DOING WJDNWN

My brain just immediately shouted “FERAL BEHAVIOR” because that looks like me whenever I’m like 🤪. JUST BUG-EYED AND CHEWING ON FLOOR TILES IDK.

…BUT THAT’S ME GOING BONKERS OVER FOOTAGE SO LIKE QJDJWNS,,, IN WHAT CIRCUMSTANCE WOULD ED LOOK LIKE: THAT.

like is frenchie carrying marmalade and ed saw it and pounced and is like ⚫️👄⚫️

because honestly that’s Valid.

But it’s also VERY interesting, because Ed’s makeup is off, and his HAIR is in that one lovely updo. So again, AGAIN, it makes it very difficult to tell what the motivations are/what the characters are feeling, because it’s like,,, ED BABE ARE YOU GOOD??? DO YOU FEEL BETTER??? OR WHAT AKDJWJDS

Regardless, REGARDLESS, I don’t know how they manage when I’m already through the ceiling, but I’m somehow vibrating at an even GREATER level than before. I cannot, and I mean, CANNOT wait to know the context behind all of these.

And cannot BELIEVE we’ll know in ✨less than a month✨

[themissingnumbers]

Hey, Lance? Why did you react to the mention of Red like that? Is- Is something wrong...?

The Dragon Master's breath catches in his throat, a knee-jerk reaction that only serves to heighten your confusion and concern.

The silence that lingers after that question hangs heavy between the two of you. He refuses to look back at you, refuses to answer aloud for far too long.

It makes your mind wander, as he mulls it over- clearly, he knows many things that you don't. What exactly about Red would have him go so quiet? After how open he'd been about everything, why was he...?

"It's nothing against him."

Lance's voice cuts off your thoughts. Ah- you'd started to space out. He's looking at you again, a more somber expression on his face.

"Then what is it? If something's wrong with MY brother, don't I deserve to know?" you ask in turn, when he fails to follow up on his words.

"There's nothing WRONG with him," he answers quickly, seeming to bristle a bit. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"I- I can't exactly provide a clear answer to you, miss. You and your brother are people that I can't understand like other things. That's what unsettles me so much.

Neither of you belong in this world. I can't see the two of you like I can everything else. Him especially. Only what's occurred while you're both within this place. So I'm..."

Lance trails off again. You tense your jaw, frustration bubbling in you.

Breathe, Leaf- in, hold, out, hold. Repeat. Breathe.

Though your attempt to calm only does so much- your next words still coming out with an audible bite:

"Get to the point."

"I'm SCARED for you!" he finally snaps back, before sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"... Red is NOT someone to be scared of," you reply while the man regains his composure, "you don't know him like I do."

"I understand that well. Don't assume I don't. I might as well have a sibling of my own- I know how those things are."

His walking slows down, and he runs a hand over his face and back through his hair.

"This just... it doesn't sit right with me. What he said to you back there, to 'keep going'... He doesn't know what he's talking about. He doesn't belong here. Doesn't know this place, or what lies ahead. And if he does..."

He swallows thickly.

"... I'm scared that he doesn't have your best interest in mind. You should be going back, not forward."

"You don't know anything about him, then," you spit, glaring at Lance.

"He's already saved me multiple times! He's never done or told me anything that wasn't in my best interest. He LOVES me, I KNOW it-"

"You didn't seem very sure of that in Mr. Fuji's home."

Your words die in your throat.

...

"... But I trust him," you insist, your voice weaker than you'd wanted it to be.

"I... I trust him. You don't have to. But I do. And I will never, ever stop. The... the amount of times, that he's saved me- even just helped me- in weird ways, with stuff he really shouldn't know... I couldn't even begin to count. Why would this suddenly be different? Why would he turn against me now?"

You look down, finally breaking eye contact with the older man.

"... So I'm gonna keep going. No offense, but... I trust him more than I trust a guy I just met that's a weird version of someone who only cared about me as a challenger."

"…それ以上に君のことを気にかけていたんだ、リーフ。"

"Huh?"

"Nothing," he sighs, shaking his head.

"I know my words have no sway over you in regards to this- and I won't be able to travel beyond this void. I'm just begging you- please consider another way. I don't want you to end up like... I- I don't want you to get hurt."

You look up at him again, meeting the man's pleading eyes. Even though you still feel that bitterness crawling inside of you...

You can't deny the sincerity in his eyes.

"Well..." you mutter, finally caving just a little.

"If it gives you peace of mind... I'll be careful. Just have a little faith in me, okay? I'm confident that everything will be alright."

"... Of course. I... I believe in you. I know that you're a strong girl- it'll take more than this to topple you."

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[dacompanionreactions]

Hello! Love your blog! I had a kind of a silly/fun reaction. How would the DA:I companions and advisors react to a playful Inquisitor sneaking up behind them and giving them a quick tickle attack? 😊

I guess this is mostly under the assumption that they are all close w/the Inquisitor, and comfortable with sudden physical contact. Enjoy!

Cassandra yelps, a high pitched squeak that has her clapping her hands to her mouth with a horrified expression, utterly mortified at the sound she just made. She blushes furiously, but she's not going to stoop to the Inquisitor's level of childishness and return the tickle attack. She will rise above. Forget this affront to her reputation. Or so she would have the Inquisitor think... for a good tactician never reveals their cards, and always has a plan of (tickle) attack.

Varric laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs until tears stream from his eyes and his stomach hurts. For him, it really dispells the notion of the Inquisitor being this large figure at the front of a huge military force. It's utterly ridiculous, and definitely not the intended effect the Inquisitor wanted on him.

Solas is taken off guard. He's seen and done it all, so it takes something truly special to leave him stunned. Something like a tickle attack. He stands there in a horrific, drawn out silence after the Inquisitor's attempt to tickle him, trying to process what just happened. Solas spends the next thirty seconds resembling a dumbstruck fish. He hastily closes his mouth and reaches a tense agreement with the Inquisitor to never speak of this again.

Oh, the indignity. Dorian is actually appalled at the noise he makes, which is something between a giggle and a squeak, and turns swiftly on the Inquisitor with (playful) murder in his eyes. He's not afraid to get his hands dirty, oh no, and so he rolls his sleeves up and prepares himself for an all out tickle war. Naturally, the Tevene in him begs him not to stoop so low. His pride, on the other hand, begs him to take revenge.

Sera screams bloody murder. Good luck hiding from her, for the Inquisitor chose the wrong person to start a tickle fight with. This girl is ruthless. She'll hide in the rafters and swoop down upon the Inquisitor when they least expect it. Throw in a few lobbed pies and that'll make the experience downright messy. Never mind playful, she's starting a war.

Blackwall is really ticklish, and ticklish everywhere. He can sense someone creeping about and probably assumes the worst. To be tickled instead of receiving a knife in the back is an odd kind of relief. To him, it helps to maintain a sense of normalcy. Yes, the world has gone mad, but people can still have tickle fights and laugh like children. Normalcy is the best kind of revenge.

Cole isn't ticklish. Still, he understands the concept. It's likely that he'd ask the Inquisitor why they felt the need to try and ambush him like that. He gets that they're trying to be playful and get him to laugh, but there are easier ways to do it!

The Iron Bull is not ticklish. He's not, so don't bother even trying. Except he's totally lying. Ask Krem and he'd say, "The boss is ticklish behind the ears. Don't ask how I know." He'd probably bark out a laugh, then full on lose it at the attempt to tickle him. Though he'd likely not retaliate unless he knew for sure the Inquisitor is comfortable with unexpected physical contact.

Vivienne isn't actually ticklish. Unlike Bull, when she says it, she means it. Any attempt to tickle her will be met with extreme retribution. Messing with the Iron Lady means snowballs flung at high speeds into the back of the Inquisitor's head when they least expect it. Vivienne is all smiles, icy and sharp, and when confronted all she has to say is, "What ever do you mean, my dear?"

He'd have to be really close to the Inquisitor for Cullen to be even slightly comfortable with that sudden movement. His knee-jerk reaction would be to panic. He'd also probably try to defend himself or physically remove himself from the situation. If he is comfortable, well, this man grew up with siblings. He's gonna tickle the Inquisitor right back, maybe even give into childish impulse and full body slam them into the floor... and apologise profusely after. And fix his hair.

Leliana sees it coming from a mile away. She'd turn swiftly and catch the Inquisitor's wrists in her hands, then offer them a knowing smile that simultaneously warms and terrifies. "I wish you luck for your next attempt." Is that a threat or a challenge? You decide.

Josephine would yelp with surprise, then erupt into giggles despite herself. She feels just like a young girl again, having tickle fights with Yvette until her tutors reprimanded her for terribly unlady-like behaviour. Josie would never in a million years dream of actually retaliating, but she sure thinks about it. A lot.

[just-some-random-blogger]

idc idc here are my reactions to the new trailerssssss via (really long) shitpost RAAHHHHHHHH

*also i took the liberty and tagged some people in some parts lmao*

starting with the black trailer cos duhh i wanna see daemon lmao

starting off strong w caraxes (this is caraxes right?? 😭😭😭) honestly he ate that up. he like me fr. him screaming is how i reacted to his dad 😋

this shot is stunning. looking into the fire. the ominous sounds. (side note the fucking audio dialogue crunch wtf was that editing hbo??? the noise that harshly faded after she spoke ???????? AHHAHAH i can't blame you my audio be like that too)

HAHAHHAAAH HIS LIL SPIN HAS ME GAGGED HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA HES SUCH A LIL BOY @azperja UR BOY IS WILDING HAHHAAHAHAH LMAOOOOOOOO

im a simple girl i see daemon i screech @em-writes-stuff-sometimes ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IS THIS CREGAN STARK ASFLJKHASFLKHASFLHASFH👹👹👹👹 NEXT TO BABY GIRL JACAERYS STRONG LOOK AT HIS BABY GIRL LIPS IDK @valeskafics THIS LOOKS LIKE IT CAME OUT ONE OF YOUR FICS?????? AM I ABOUT TO MAKE A JACE FIC????? HELPPPP

gWAYNEEE?????? HIGHTOWER????????????? RAHHHHHHHHHHHHH WITH HIS SLUTTY LIL BUSTED LIP?????????????? why are you in the blacks trailer tho?????????? who did you fuck up??? who fucked you up???????? omG IF YOU AND DADDY DAEMON FIGHT 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦

CUNT-C-CUNT-C-CUNT-CUNT. he is swag. he is emo. he is killing all the aemond girlies. @ewanmitchellcrumbs i have nothing to say to you other than hi how ya doin

and im a very simple girl 😋😋😋😋

i dont like the mourning girls ))): LEAVE MY GIRLS ALONE ☹

i would bend the knee to you daddy REEEEEEEEEEEEEE @em-writes-stuff-sometimes SHOULDER SHOT IN LIEU OF A CROTCH SHOT??????????????????

her dialogue 😫😫😫 ate. as it remains rhaenys is the only one with the braincell in this psycho barbie house and we love her for that

CUNT-C-CUNT-C-CUNT-CUNT. SHE SERVED SO HARD FUCKKKKK

now the green trailer

MY SAD GIRL LEAVE HER ALONE. congrats on having (one of) your oppressor(s) die tho (: it must be mentally tolling ):

[in response to alicent's dialogue] ok but you also knew viserys was delulu to the core????? he did the whole horse analogy to defend rhaenyra which was INSANE. 😔 its kinda sad you believe that in his dying breath he wanted to reconcile with you but even then he didnt give a fuck 💔💔💔💔💔 sorry alicent

ok but .... 👀👀👀👀👀👀 otto lookin kinda scruptious !!! @ewanmitchellcrumbs WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME??!?!?! tbh no regrets 😋😋 more food for me

I KNOW I ALREADY REACTED TO THIS BUT HAHAHAHAHA ITS SO FUCKING FUNNY HES SO UNSERIOUS WITH THE TWIRL. AND THE CAPTION IS PERFECT WAHAHAH VISERYS ROLLIN IN HIS GRAVE TO KNOW THIS IDIOT SUCEEDED HIM AND HONESTLY AEGON ATE WITH THAT. THE ULTIMATE REVENGE 😫😫😫 SERVE KING GIVE US NOTHING AND GIVE US CUNT ALL AT ONCE HAHAHHAHA @azperja AHHAH WALA LANG TAG LANG KITA ULIT HAHHAH

@em-writes-stuff-sometimes no but the SHOULDER SHOT IM BEING SO SERIOUS RN ITS SOOO RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

hes salty because daemon and him are fighting again 😔💔 ASLKFHASF NO BUT WHY HE LOOK SO MAD???🤨🤨 HAHAHHAHHAH (ok fine fine hes mad because theyre about to go to war. id be mad too)

I DONT KNOW im taking a wild guess here. . . is this alys? ........... ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? idk idk i dont know enough about asoiaf to be guessing tbh

hes so dramatic. arent you the same man that begged your younger brother to let you flee and be rid of this burden? smh. had the crowds screaming your name once and now you think ur a rockstar. its ok ur @azperja's rockstar 😋

this line has me gagged 😭😭🤣🤣 GO KING. GO FUCK UP YOUR FAM AND THE REST OF THE SEVEN REALMS AS CASUALTY. i cant take him seriously. i cant 💀💀💀 YOURE THE GUY THAT JERKED OFF BY THE WINDOW 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 CRYINGGGGGGGGGGG and the fact this scene is directly followed by him showcasing his mommy issues 😔 poor pathetic meowmeow

STOPPP 💀💀💀💀✋✋✋✋✋ I CANT TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY EITHER. HE SAW DAEMON CHOP UP VAEMONDS HEAD AND HAS BEEN HORNY EVER SINCE.

oh wait fuck i forgot he killed lucerys 💀💀💀💀💀😬😬😬😬 asfhlashfhsafhasf wAIT HE KNOWS DAEMON IS COMING FOR HIM WAIT LASFHHASFHASFFASOHASF WAITTT IT JUST CLICKED HES SCARED FUCK FUCK FUCK

hes so fucking hot what the fuck @ewanmitchellcrumbs i get why you dedicated an entire blog for this man. felt. BUT WHY WAR? LEMME BRAID UR HAIR INSTEAD???????? STOBIT

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔 STOP HURTING ALICENT WHAT THE FUCK STOP IT

IDK WHO SHE IS BUT SHE ATE. IS THAT A STAG I SEE ARE YOU A BARATHEON SLAYYYYYYY..... is she a she or is he a he i... i cant tell. either way v pretty v intrigued

?????????????????????????? WHY HE LOOK YASSIFIED IN THIS 💀💀💀 sOBBING

i HATE the fact they cut his hair. cole is now 10x more unbearable what the fuck. JUSTICE FOR FABIEN he had such pretty hair

❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ men that crave war are the scabs of society

HONESTLY HOW IS VHAGAR (this is vhagar right????) NOT RIPPING HER WINGS MORE WHEN SHE FLIES?????? THE HOLESSSSS ARE INSANEEEEEE

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔 women

both of these trailers ending with their support for their preferred monarch is such a slay detail to add. THEY SHOULD RELEASE THE SHOW SOONER

[bringthekaos]

You know that phrase, " There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.'"

The first time Jayce experimented the third one was the first time he actually feared Viktor. Like, cold sweat, paralized, mouth dry kind of fear.

(Also a little horny)

Hahaha Jayce be like

FR though, Jayce being torn between mortification and hornification is like… my bread and butter. That knee-jerk reaction of just… “oh my god!!! …. oh my god, am I into this? Oh god, I’m into this…”

And I don’t think he’ll truly experience Viktor’s anger, I’m talking fire-breathing rage, until he’s the Machine Herald. I think in the events that lead up to his exile, Viktor will still be reeling. He’ll be numb and in shock that this is happening, how could this happen, how could Jayce turn on me like this? There just won’t be room for the wrath yet, he’ll still be processing it.

And it’s a strange thing, witnessing the Machine Herald… an angry Machine Herald for the first time, because it doesn’t translate like most people’s anger would. His emotions are suppressed, so instead it reads as cold, detached, and almost inhuman. He bears down on Jayce like a runaway freight train, doesn’t slow down, doesn’t hesitate. He truly tries to hurt Jayce in that first confrontation, might even be trying to kill him. And Jayce is caught off guard, thinks surely he wouldn’t, not Viktor, not my Viktor…

But he’s not Jayce’s Viktor anymore, he’s something new and haunting, and Jayce doesn’t know what he feels anymore—it looks like anger, sounds like it… but it’s almost like Viktor feels nothing at all as he fires the Hexclaw right at Jayce.

And that’s the first time he’s truly afraid of Viktor. He’s never been before, he’s always held out hope that somewhere, deep down and buried beneath layer after layer of metal, that same soft, kind man is in there. But when the Hexclaw singes through his flesh, cauterizing as it burns; when Jayce screams in agony and stumbles back; when Viktor doesn’t react at all and just stomps closer, aiming the Claw again…

In the moment, there was only room for fear, for self-preservation. For the grief of realizing oh my god, what if my Viktor really is gone? But later on, in the privacy of his own home—bandages on his skin and on his ego—something awakens that he doesn’t quite understand. He finds that thinking about the fight, thinking of how truly dangerous Viktor was… it makes him excited. It makes him want to do it again, and he’s not sure if it’s just his bruised ego wishing for a rematch, or if it’s… something else. Something forbidden and primal, something that yearns to be stoked but can’t be spoken of in Piltover society. It consumes and confuses him, this obsession with that feeling—I was scared, so why do I want it to happen again? He could kill me as easy as breathing, why… why do I want to let him? And he knows there’s probably some psychological explanation a therapist could give him, something about wanting to be punished for his mistakes, and wanting said punishment to come from the person he hurt the most. But he doesn’t think too hard on that, after all introspection is the luxury of a younger man. Now he just tries to accept that this is the way things are now, best just try to come to terms with it.

And he does. He fabricates reasons to fight Viktor, seeks him out and antagonizes him. Because if he can’t defeat the beast within himself, he might as well feed it.

[petchic101]

Burn the World to Ash

Oops I wrote an Astarion brainrot one-shot? Whaaaaat. Basically what if Tav was an old acquaintance of Astarion's in high society and she was just another victim of the rich and powerful.

Fluff and Angst No smut in this one folks

Word Count: 5371

This is also kind of a trauma dump, how the body reacts to trauma, and how the body reacts when you are dying of blood loss.

TW: eludes to SA and Abuse // Blooood // Death

Enjoy! Please let me know if you want to see more, I have my main play through with my sex positive wood elf xAstarionxHalsinxEmpororxHaleep that I have a tone of ideas for! (mostly smut)

_____________________________________________________

The sun shone brightly on the coastal cliffs as Ren saw an old acquaintance from Baldur’s gate. It pierced off his white locks and pale skin quite vividly. She hadn’t remembered seeing him in this light before, perhaps any light before if she was honest. The high society parties Lorroakan often dragged her to were usually twinkled with firelight after the sun had set. The pale elf had never paid her any attention, odd considering how Lorroakan often paraded her around, dressed provocatively enough to draw any and all attention inevitably towards himself. None of Cazzadors magistrates would flock to her and her master like the other nobility would, even Cazzador himself would stop to pay her false compliments, kiss her hand or smell her hair before talking to the Wizard that kept her. Her eyes had drifted up one of these times, the pale elf stood frozen, staring. Neither daggers nor jealousy met her eyes, but a primal… fear, one of not knowing what was going to happen next.

Suddenly she was on the ground, a knife to her throat, she froze. “Shhhh not a sound, not if you want to keep that pretty little neck of yours.” Her first instinct was to go limp, to comply. He seemed to notice her body language and pressed his knife closer to her, propping himself to get a better angle. He hadn’t yet looked at her as his head turned to her newest companion. “Now you, I saw you on the ship, yes? I need answers or your darling companion will pay the price.

Shadowheart’s fist clenched. “Let her go or I swear to all that is holy-”

“Ah ah ah.” Astarion tsk’d as the dagger pressed to Ren’s neck drawing blood.

“Astarion, yes?” Ren wrapped her hand around the hand holding the knife to her throat. His reaction was knee jerk to the touch and she was slashed. But the attack was sloppy and she was able to roll away with minimal damage to her neck. He quickly jumped to his feet, still holding his dagger at them. “How do you know my name?” He hissed, panic in his red eyes, but they finally registered the girl in front of him. “Gods, your Lorroakan’s pet.” He spat the sentence then sighed rolling his eyes as he hilted his dagger, putting his hands up. “Apologies.” Suddenly the parasite in her head lurched, taking in the quick memories passed between them, not of nights of merriment but a feeling of fear while skulking moonlit Baldur’s Gate. They all held their heads, not used to the sensation. Before a full recovery could be had, Astarion pointed at her, still palming his eye. “You’re some sort of magic witch, explain this!”

Ren looked at him dumbfounded. This beautiful magistrate, plucked from the eves of high society and dropped in the middle of nowhere, why he looked absolutely displaced, a hilarious spectacle. She started laughing, almost keeling over, the somberness of the events were placed on a backdrop of nonsensical impossibilities. Like watching a play where only one of the actors was stuck in song.

Her companions stood awkwardly not knowing what to do, but Astarion puffed his chest, not liking the thought of someone not taking him seriously. “No, no, none of that, do you know what’s going on or not?”

That night at camp things were much calmer, they had managed to gather six survivors from the crash so far, including herself, oddly all of them capable of some form of martial ability or magic. Astarion sauntered up to her while she was alone, much like he did to others at those frequent parties. “How funny it is to run into someone we’ve met before, yes?” His voice was melotic, hypnotizingly so. It hit chords not unlike Cazzadors or Lorrorakan’s but much sweeter all the same.

“I suppose so.” So much had happened today she had almost forgotten how to put on her show, the one she did for high society, it was not something she was hoping to have to do when in a life or death situation. She tried to match her tone to his, a sweet harmony to keep up appearances. “I’m especially surprised you recognized me Sir, we barely saw each other in passing, odd considering how close our patrons are.” She added her own little barb at the end, something Lorroraken would have whipped her for, but he wasn’t here and this man had avoided her like the plague ever since their first meeting.

Astarion paused, perhaps not expecting his tone to be matched so quickly, or perhaps because the barb had actually stung, but she doubted it. He grabbed her hand, bringing it to his mouth. “An error of judgment on my part I’m sure.” As he went to kiss it she ripped her hand from his before she could think. He looked up, shocked. Shit. The fear must have shown on her face, she had just insulted a magistrate, one with a very powerful patron. His face softened but she quickly stood up, giving a slight bow.

“I am sorry Sir, I must be delirious from today’s events.” She straightened herself as he stood next to her. His gaze slowly took her in, her dress was badly torn, exposing old bruises that she probably hadn’t even noticed, was he feeling pity? She was just another victim of the politics inside of the city. She was lucky that Cazzador had banned them from hunting her, she was certainly a beauty, an innocent looking one that would seek comfort in his arms, and Astarion would have been happy to oblige until handing her to her fate. But she was not one of his victims, she was an easy ally to keep, he needed to make sure his grip was tight.

“Don’t be darling, today’s events have all of us out of sorts, perhaps tomorrow we can meet again as allies and not as magistrates and apprentices.” The worms communicate feelings of relief between them and she nodded hesitantly.

“Out here I’m not, how did you put it? ‘Lorroraken’s pet’?” She smirked. A warning, if he were to go to his master about some sort of insult, she could go to hers with the same claim, and this put them truly on equal ground.

Astarion grinned knowingly. She was not the pushover he had been hoping for, but someone formidable makes for easier travel than dragging some tag along noble. In all honesty though,  he could not stop thinking about tasting the blood off of his blade that night. 

_______________________________

The group had made Ren the de facto leader, almost from the fact none of them were willing to step up. Except Laezel of course,  but even she could tell these istyk would only follow one of their own. Karlach was a soldier, Wyll and Gale are self conscious loners with complex mommy or daddy issues. Shadowheart couldn't even remember her favorite book. And of course Astarion preferred the shadows. He did not think she would take to the role well considering how presumably sheltered she was. But her lessons in the nobility paid off, her quick wit in forms of persuasion were a sight to behold. She would not hesitate to use their new powers to get the edge up on whoever they were at odds with, making Astarion wonder if that was a technique her master had taught her to utilize before. She eased into the parties multiple personalities quite readily,  she melded with these people in ways he could not, or perhaps would not. They flocked to her, she was altruistic,  but willing to do what had to be done,  she listened to everyone's problems and promised loyalty and companionship,  she even helped prevent two of their new friends from exploding.  Doing it once would have been a feat in itself,  but it's weird that it happened twice. 

But something that caused Astarion much grief was that she would always find a way to include him,  even when he and the others had a silent understanding that he was better off being alone. Not that she did this all the time,  she gave him plenty of space, but group decisions were always made with the whole group present, his exasperated sighs usually being his only input aside from his snarky comments. He felt himself comforted though,  how she would put herself as a physical barrier between him and the group,  not in an intimidating way,  just something that she picked up on that made him more comfortable.

These past few days they had set up camp in caves or dungeons,  he hadn't hunted beforehand and he cursed himself for it. He was not used to being surrounded by blood this often, the constant smell was intoxicating, especially hers after he had that small snack off of his dagger after their first meeting, and even a small suckle of old blood from her had been the best thing he tasted in 200 years. 

The battle before they set up camp was particularly vexing, they had killed all of the goblins in this abandoned temple,  but fighting that damned drow was a whole ordeal. Ren had stepped in front of him, mage armor made her especially stupid, he was in and out of the shadows usually,  firing sneaked shots in critical places,  but that damn scrying eye stayed on him. Shadowheart had to grab Karlach who had been pushed off the rickety bridge, a half dead goblin still on their tails, the bear kept him occupied though.  He and Ren had been cornered by the drow leader,  but she stood in front of him, quarterstaff defending as rapier and dagger slit her skin, sometimes her magical armor deflected but not enough. She then was quite literally shoved into him, he hit the bookshelves behind them, barely managing to grab her so she wouldn't take the brunt of the force. In doing so her blood had covered him,  bathing him in the sweet smell as his head hit the shelf. Minthara knew this would buy her time and swung to help her companion, not wanting to get overwhelmed from behind. 

Ren seized in and out of consciousness as he fished for a healing potion, he sat them up quickly holding her waist tight so she would stay upright. "Don't die on me now."  He shifted her so he could feed her the potion her hand lifted, cupping his as she drank it. It was one of the more potent ones,  his from the equally shared that were divided amongst them but he didn't care. He needed her to lead this rag tag group,  he needed her alive. He needed to see her smile again, watch her facade slip as she genuinely laughed around a campfire. He needed her. 

The battle finished, all of them nearly dead as Halsin gave some over enthusiastic praise. Shadowheart was out of healing spells, but she managed to patch Ren up for the most part, dried blood and dirt caked her but exhaustion took hold and she fell asleep on top of her bedroll as soon as they got back.  The scent of blood permeated around him. He tried to meditate, read, perhaps relieve himself in other ways,  but nothing worked. And suddenly he was over top of her. Crawling on his hands and knees like some wild cat stalking its prey. He had never indulged himself.  Even when Cazasdor ate in front of him,  letting the blood, off whatever thinking creature, pool on the floor.  He never dared try and lap some up for himself. But tonight he was free, and tonight he was hungry. The campfire casted an uncomfortable spotlight on him as he looked around, no one was awake,  but the light hit him like the heavens judgment for the monster he was. He started with her hand,  lifting it gently,  then a little more fervently to make sure she was asleep. When she didn't stir he slowly started licking her.  Carefully at first then his hunger took over, he lapped his tongue over her uncovered wounds, scraping his teeth against her scabs to hopefully satiate the overwhelming instinct to bite and suck. As skin off her waist broke and as new blood pooled into his mouth he moaned, his hands formed into fists as he shifted his weight to get a better angle. But spawn or not his saliva was still a natural coagulant, and her wounds were shallow compared to what his teeth could do.  As they closed he cursed, sitting himself up and wiping his mouth. And there he saw her bright blue orbs staring at him. The fear of prey written on her face.

"Shit" how did he not hear her heartbeat speed up, for how long she had been awake. He scooted away as she sat up. "It's not what it looks like I swear." He stuttered out,  his regular vibrato gone. Ren rubbed her eyes. The shock of adrenaline to her system had woken her up, but the blood rushing to her head made it feel like it was going to explode.

"It better be what it looks like Astarion." Her voice was a whispered hiss. For some reason she was not trying to wake the others. He waited, confused,  for her to continue. "You were trying to feed I hope, not taking advantage of me, well, not in that way I suppose." She was too calm,  like she hadn't woken up to him feasting on her like a cat lapping up spilt milk.

"Excuse me?" He managed to spit out as the realization hit him. "You knew!? This whole time!? You knew and you didn't even mention it? Not once?" His face scoffed and his nose squiggled up his face making her roll her eyes.

"You're not exactly subtle, Astarion. Though I suppose you only have genuinely smiled around me, the others haven't noticed but you have, let's say, some rather large teeth." She was smirking now,  catching their mysterious companion off guard was quite a feat. He sat more relaxed now as she propped herself up, looking at the wounds. "Closed" she whispered to herself unsurprised.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize I was traveling with Baldur Gate’s local vampire expert!" Astarion flailed his hands making her laugh. But it was a dry one as if she was lost in thought. 

"It's not my… first time being fed on,  Astarion." The words were heavy in her chest as he froze, letting her continue. "Lorroakan would blindfold me and have some of his 'special' guests feed on me sometimes.  I don't know if it was one person or multiple." She trailed off. And her eyes grew dark. "Lucky me, a wizard of that caliber always has plenty of revivify scrolls laying about." Astarion felt the rage grow inside him. Cazzador would force them to hunt for his meals almost nightly,  then would still feel the need to indulge himself at his friend's homes!? Astarion gave a dry laugh that turned hysterical. He covered his mouth to keep the noise under control. 

"I can assure you it was but one man, if you can even call him that. "

"Cazzador." She whispered it as a statment. They paused for a short while. "So you never…" she trailed off. 

"No darling,  Cazzador kept us on a diet of Rats and whatever other stray animals we could get our claws on. 'The blood of the thinking creature is not for scum such as ourselves.'" He quoted his old master with venom on his tongue.

"Then have you ever?"

"No darling, I have not eaten anyone." A guilty look passed over his eyes as he looked at her.

"Then how was it?" The question came out of her so simple,  so mundane,  as if he had just tried a new flavor of pie.

He was taken aback before reflex kicked in and he went back to his suave character. "It was, dare I say, decadent."

She easily fell back into her own character, letting the reality of what they had just admitted to each other fade into the background. "You could have asked."

The frivolously bantered about the possibility of him getting staked before he would ask permission, but he ended it on a serious note. 

"I suppose I should ask then, I can feel like it will unlock my potential, I can prevent things like today from happening, protect you." He offered, licking his lips. 

She thought about the times Cazzador had sucked her dry, when the blood in your body fades, your heart goes on overdrive,  thinking it's doing something wrong, but all of your muscles lose control, the wet of sweat coats your body as you are both in the most relaxed state and more panicked than ever before. It is not a slow death, internally screaming as your body is paralyzed. Fingertips and toes go completely numb, nerves shoot pain up and down your arms and legs until eventually you're asleep. 

Astarion watched her dissociate into the memory as he grabbed her hand. "I won't kill you I promise." His eyes were genuine, knowing the pain from the memory she was going through.

"I want to try." More than anything she wanted her body back, she wanted to make the decision to say yes, so this memory would not always be burdened with the knowledge she never gave consent.

He sat up, too quickly, too hungry. She flinched but relaxed as he did not move to grab her, allowing her full control. He was handsome, she had always thought so, romance stories of vampires and their mortal prey were often read in her younger years, and though that fantasy had been spoiled by the reality she faced, she longed to set herself in that naive state of mind. 

Out of many of the nobles he had always stood out to her.  She would never inflate his ego by telling him this,  but when the attention was finally off of her and she had served her purpose as a conversation starter for Lorroakan, at the end of the evening she would find herself watching him,  how he danced and charmed his way to any and all lads and ladies that surrounded him. It was quite a spectacle. And here he was, all of that grandiose attention on her, well, her blood to be exact, because she was willing and he was able. She grabbed his hand, leading it around her waist. He started to lean in, to move them into a laying position, so he could pierce her neck. But she stood firm and he complied, not pushing her. "Is this alright?" She offered him her wrist. His smile was wide, devious, and happy.

"Of course my sweet, however you are comfortable. This is a gift,  I will not soon forget it." He wrapped his arm tighter around her waist as he grabbed the hand she offered him. Planting kisses from the palm of her hand to her upturned arm. She gave out a squeaked moan as she made herself comfortable in his lap. He purred at the noise, giving her neck and jaw some approving pecks, his own excitement starting to harden in his trousers. She bit her lip, burying her face into his neck, pecking his skin before giving a comfortable hum, rubbing her hips,  happy by the fact she excited him. "Are you ready?" She nodded into his shoulder as her body tensed. "I need to hear you say it aloud." His command caught them both off guard but in the best way possible.

"I'm ready." She braced herself as his teeth pierced her wrist, it was slow, intentional, he did not want to hit bone. Blood started spilling out before he could begin drinking,  making the first few seconds of his meal desperate slurps,  like a man trying not to spill his wine. But he settled into a rhythm, letting her blood coat his tongue. The vibration of his satisfied hum on her skin gave her goosebumps. The pain quickly set itself to a low drone, the moment felt more intimate than anything she had felt before. She had always loved serving others, but in her most formative years her choice to do so was taken away, her forced servitude to anyone her Warden wanted had made her forget about that side of her. This gave her the same joy that voluntarily helping the tieflings gave her. And it was her choice to do so. She peered up from his neck, her head light from the blood loss and the moment. His eyes were closed, the corners of them wet. Without thinking she licked one of his tears away, slowly and gently. This pulled him out of his stupor and he looked at her blankly, in shock.

"Vixen." He grumbled under his breath,  turning back to her pierced flesh to lick the wound closed. His tongue flattened over her skin again and again. She merely stared at him in awe as he occasionally would look to her, a grin flashing on his open mouth as he finished cleaning her. She rested her head back into his shoulder, suddenly exhausted again.

Half conscious she felt him lift her, she felt him cleaning the dirt and blood from her body after he removed her armor, the cloth damp but not cold. She woke up the next morning, still clothed but slightly dizzy, her brain needing to work a little extra hard to find the words she needed. Astarion sat across the cave, reading as usual, but this time no wine in his hand, his gaze only going to her once, smirking after her most likely large plastered smile met his gaze.

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The tieflings sang and danced throughout the camp, Ren showed a genuine smile, but when she thought no one was looking, a tired half smile placed itself on her face. This was his moment to do what he did best, use his body to earn more of her trust. Besides, he owed her his own body after she had given him hers.

She sunk back, out of the natural circle that surrounded the fire. The tired closed mouth smile carved into her face like stone. As Astarion managed to sneak behind her, he gently grabbed her arm, she thrashed around as if to hit him, most likely instinct. He caught her wrist, putting a finger to his mouth. She let out a breath of relief to see it was just him, but he did not release her, the feeling foreign. She let her arm go limp and he wrapped her hand to his back, letting it rest, her reaction was not flustered but she certainly wasn’t resisting, so he continued. “This is an awful ruckus compared to what we are used to, yes?” He grabbed her other hand in his, and spun them away from the fire and into the shadows. “The wine is pig swill and the devil spawn are loud. Shall we perhaps have our own fun?” His eyes adjusted to the darkness and her face was not blushing, not eager, it had set back to the closed mouth smile.

“Of course sir, if that is what you desire.” The sing-song of her voice was broken, cracking, like a lute slightly out of tune. He released their closeness, stepping back to access her, he left her fingertips in his, so he could pull her back in if need be. He gazed at her, up and down, something was so familiar about how she was behaving, but he could not place it, perhaps she reminded him of a victim from long ago? Her voice brought him back to reality. “Your tent is further from current company.” He nodded and led her there, taking both of her hands to lead her inside, shifting himself around so that she could get a comfortable spot inside.

“Now I will say this is not the lavish rooms we are used to but it will do the job.” He turned to close the tent behind them, by the time he turned back she was already pulling her tunic off her shoulders, exposing her breasts. “Oh my, eager are we?” no something about her movements were practiced, stiff.

“Sorry sir, did you want to undress me?” His eyes widened as he finally placed the familiar feeling. In 200 years he had not been able to look in a mirror, but here stood his reflection, when the body and soul split to do whatever needs to be done. He was not seducing a young woman into trusting him, he had brought a husk into his tent. He silently cursed himself as he slipped her blouse back around her, buttoning the buttons. Her eyes widened, he could feel her fight or flight kicking in as her body tensed. How did he not see it before? He knew that the wizard abused her, but because he had not cared, didn’t mean she was not a person who wasn’t affected by it. She quickly grasped his hands, squeezing to prevent herself from shaking. “Y-you’re doing it wrong.” A ragged whisper escaped her lips.

“Hush now.” He growled, not at her but at himself, her flinch though told him she could not tell the difference. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he finished dressing her. “And stop calling me sir, I am no master of yours.” He paused as she looked at the ground her hands gripping her shirt tightly. “I may have miscalculated the type of fun I was willing to have tonight, my apologies.” She looked, hurt, no, terrified, as if she had done something wrong. He had been enslaved to act the predator, but she had been caged to act as prey.

“Did I do something wrong?” A panic had set into her voice, as if not fulfilling this role could end in something much worse.

When Astarion was done buttoning her he paused, sitting back on top of his calves. He waved his hand dramatically. “Of course not my sweet, you are perfect.” He was still putting on the false voice when he spoke, perhaps actions would speak louder. “Do you trust me?” They both knew she didn’t but all he needed was the nod of acknowledgment she gave him. He took off his shirt as she sat up from her half lying position. He did not want her to see his shame, not yet, no sob story needed to be poured into her lap tonight, but something in him wanted her to know she was not alone. He held his hand out, allowing her to choose to take it if she wished. 

After a slight hesitation, she matched his sitting position and placed her hand in his and he swiftly guided it to his back, where she could trace his scars. Her eyes widened as she leaned forward to get more comfortable, he grabbed her other hand to help her balance as her fingers gently traced his greatest shame. He struggled not to flinch but his body slowly relaxed under her touch. He gathered the strength to glance down at her face, her lips were pressed tight together but her eyes stared past him, she was not trying to peek at what she was feeling, for which he was more than grateful for. Her neck was strained, a perfect position for a bite. But he shouldn’t be thinking about that now.

After what felt like an eternity of silence she pulled back, he was grateful her eyes were not full of pity but understanding. “There, it seems that high society is not always kind to itself.” His mouth was strangely dry as his voice verged on cracking. Ren nodded. She didn’t have to ask how he knew, the scars she had traced seemed purposeful, almost runic, but she did not want to push him further. His hand that had caught hers to help her balance felt strangely more connected than when she had her shirt off earlier. So she didn’t let go of it and squeezed. “This wasn’t for me you know, I wanted to do something. Something to thank you for the gift you had given me earlier.”

She blushed, neither of them were looking at each other, a strange comfort hung in the air not having to put up their acts. “Astarion, you don’t owe me anything.” She whispered, still holding his hand, their fingers interlocked. You didn’t just take my blood that night, you allowed me to make that choice. That is a finer gift than I have received in many years.”

Astarion sat confused, watching her fingers stroke against his, merely two people getting used to positive touch again no doubt, nothing more. “Than why did you agree at all? If it was merely the decision, you could have, I don’t know, decided to say no, and taht would be that.” He was so used to talking with his hands he accidentally threw hers up as he didn’t let go and she laughed, being thrown off balance for merely a second. But she finally let go and layed down on his many pillows, her head slightly propped up.

The flustered look on her face surprised the vampire. “I wanted to hear you moan again.” she mumbled. He laid next to her, eyebrow cocked dramatically. “Darling there are much easier ways to get a man to moan than feeding him parts of your body.” He was not going to let himself seemingly blush from her confession.

Her laugh was dry. “You never seemed interested in me that way, and besides, I’m… I don’t know if I even want to do that, I tend to shut down.” He nodded knowingly.

“I wasn’t interested in you my dear because everyone I had sex with was eaten and killed. Lorroakan had requested you be left alone. Ironic considering what he let Cazzador do to you in that tower of his.” She listened, taking in Astarion’s words his frustrations. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder, pulling him to her chest, where his rigid form eventually relaxed. She kissed his forehead.

“I don’t think either of us need pity sex.” She spoke, maybe to herself, after the comfortable silence permeated the tent. He laughed, this wasn’t his plan, he wasn’t supposed to share his greatest traumas with someone, he was not supposed to feel bad for her. They had enough to contend with if he was actually going to ask her to kill Cazzador, but if that was the route he was heading for, adding an arch mage to the list just made sense.

“I don’t need your pity.” He huffed haughtily, his arm over her stomach as she played with his hair.

She chuckled. “And I don’t need yours.” He let out another huff. This was not supposed to be how their night ended. She was supposed to be screaming his name against some gods forsaken tree in the middle of the woods. He would finish his role, letting her fall for him, though he hadn’t thought past the first night, he had never had to before. But here he was in some woman’s arms that on some level knew every harsh reality he had seen. He could tell her if she hadn’t lived it, truly known what he was talking about perhaps it would have been easier. It would just be some sob story he would get to milk every once and awhile. But this was real, she probably felt the same feral protectiveness over him that he was feeling for her right now. But he knew he had no excuses anymore, no whoa is me to fall back on, and that was scarier than anything. That she could go through the things he had been through and still want to help and love. Where all he wanted to do was burn the world to ash. A quick peck on his forehead brought him back to reality. A half hummed goodnight escaped her lips as she fell asleep, and he was left to ponder.