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vampire-caprisun · 3 months

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We Can be Heroes CH1

Hello! Im finally going to start posting my cringe fan fiction on here and AO3, hopefully going to try to keep myself on a weekly release schedule but that might be subject to change depending on my current workload and job schedule. Thinking of making this two parts with the main story of bg3 being part one and an epilogue adventure being part 2.

Anyway this is my Tav Inala's story, shes a drow Ranger/Rogue seeking redemption and finding love and family in the process. Very durge coded without being a durge herself and I'm probably going to work in elements from the durge storyline into this fic since I love both.

Warnings: Voilence, talks of SH and suicide, talks of SA, drug use, alcohol consumption, lots of smut, mentions of past abuse, trauma and ptsd

Relationships: Astarion/named!Tav, Astarion/f!tav, Shadowzel, Wyllach, and some light implied Halsin/Astarion/Tav later on in the story if you squint.

Chapter 1: Love at First Knife

A bottle shattered next to a pair of boots. Their owner stumbled through the forest heading in no direction in particular. She was very drunk, barely registering that her poorly bandaged hand was bleeding again. It didn't matter anyway, if something in the woods didn't kill her tonight her former boss absolutely will later.

“I deserve it.” She slurred to no one in particular. “I deserve all of this.” Her eyes began to leak fat tears again. A year ago she was a different person, ruthless, capable, on track to be one of the most in demand assassins on the Sword Coast. Then everything changed the moment that sorceress’ lips pressed against her own. The bitterness, the misanthropic behavior melted away and she was left confused and deconstructed. Was this truly who she wanted to be? Could she be more than a blade in the dark? Nyra sure thought so, before her throat was cut. Now the Dread Raven wanders the woods alone again, intoxicated and haunted by ghosts who saw something better in her. “I can't do this Nyra, I can't.” She sobs as if talking to someone who isn't there. “I'm not a good person, I never have been. Fuck why'd you have to die I dont know what I'm doing, why’d you have to fucking leave?!” she screams into the dark, her voice going hoarse.

“Show me what to do or let me end please.” She was begging now, begging her dead lover, the gods, anyone who would listen really. “I don't want to be alone anymore.” The drow sobs quietly as she comes to the edge of a steep cliffside, a peaceful beach below it with waves crashing into the rocks. It would be so easy, just a couple more steps…..but she stops as if something won't let her continue. “You are so much more than what they made you to be Inala.” Nyra’s words echoed in her brain as if she was still here. “Fight for it. Fight for you and everyone else this fucked up world screwed over. If anyone can change their stars its you. Fight back.” the drow crashed to her knees.

“Ok.” She said quietly tears falling onto the rock below her. “Fuck you. You win, I'll fight.” she sighed swaying with the wind a bit as she cast her eyes upwards to the stars. “I want to live.” she whispered to herself. Then just as her drunken hallucinations had reached their final crescendo one more massive one appeared in front of her. Raw fear gripped the drow’s heart as a tentacle shot forward from the massive ship. Well so much for wanting a second chance.

____________________

Inala groaned and rolled onto her side, her head pounding with what might be the worst hangover in history. This is why she doesn't like sleeping too often. What a gods damn weird dream. Illithids, a Githyanki, apparently they drove a Nautaloid through Avernus? She wanted to just lay there for a bit longer until her head stopped screaming at her and the nausea subsided but the smell of fire and destruction had her up quickly. Oh gods. It wasn't a dream.

She had been on this ship and crashed it into the beach. Somehow her rock bottom had just become so much worse. The drow stood up on wobbly legs, her long raven hair tangled and caked in sand, her makeup smudged across her freckled cheeks and she was pretty sure she reeked of gore and whiskey. She dared not look at her reflection right now but at least she's not a mindflayer. Well, not yet. Right, healer find a healer. Wasn't that one shadow woman a cleric? Shit maybe she lived?

The ranger stretched and groaned, her body sore and her mind still foggy. She breathed in, taking in her surroundings searching for signs of survivors from the crash. Find the cleric.

Inala didn't have to wander far, the dark haired woman laid on her back intact and what looked to be mostly unharmed. She noticed her hand clutched that strange artifact she had seen on the ship that had been quickly hidden away from her the moment she took interest in it. The drow thought for a moment, eyes flicking to the cleric and then to the glowing object. She decided to carefully reach out to it hoping to get a better look at whatever valuable item this half elf was keeping hidden, maybe even use it as leverage…then suddenly she was caught, the cleric sat upright holding a knife to the drow’s chest. Inala backed up hands in the air. “Sorry!” she grinned sheepishly “I was just looking!”

“And why would I believe you?” The half elf eyed her with suspicion. Inala felt the thing in her head squirm then connect to the cleric, their thoughts and intentions shared with another. They both stumbled back.

“That thing they put in our heads you…you have the same one?” The half elf stuttered.

“What the hells was that? You were in my head!?” the drow snarled, her hangover not helping the trobing that came from the worm's activity in her skull.

“I…I don't know. I remember the ship I remember falling then nothing. That's all I know. They….they put something in our heads.”

The two women stared at one another in a stalemate, then finally Inala set her weapons on the ground putting up her empty hands “Look we need to cooperate if we're going to live through this. I don't want to become a mindflayer and I'm guessing you dont either. Where's the green woman?”

“Lae'zell? She seems to have run off without us. Seems like I'm more reliable than your friend.” the half elf smirked putting her own knife away and crossing her arms.

Inala glared now rubbing her head “Well do you have any ideas on how to fix this then? Because she was the only person who seemed to have some sort of knowledge of what happened to us.”

“No, but first things first we need supplies and shelter.”

Inala smiled at that, finally something in her wheelhouse. “Leave that to me. I've lived outdoors all my life. I can throw a camp together for us if you agree to cooperate. I want this worm out just as much as you do.”

“Alright we help each other then. You can call me Shadowheart. That's all you need to know.”

“Fine. You can call me Inala and that's also all you need to know.” they nodded at one another both sensing the other was also a very guarded and private individual. They set off to salvage through the wreckage not encountering much but a few walking brains to fight. Finding the githyanki in this mess was going to be like searching for a needle in a haystack. What Inala would give to have her crows right about now…Wherever they are. Her poor feathered friends were probably worried sick about her. She'd find them soon and then she'd pack up and leave. Go somewhere far away where no one knew of her past alias or the horrible things she had done. Maybe join a circus or something who knows at this point.

Hours passed until they came out through a section of wreckage that opened up to a clearing overlooking the beach below. A disoriented man stood at the edge of the cliff and the ranger paused.

“There's someone up ahead.”

The pale elf turned to the two women. He waved frantically in their direction shouting “Help!” To them as they approached.

“Do you see it? There in the bushes I got one of those brain things cornered. You can kill it can't you?” He pointed out towards the beach. Inala glared at him eyeing his fancy embroidery and flashy purple doublet. Her eyes traced his slender form to the dagger on his hip.

“You seem pretty capable, kill it yourself.” Inala grumbled unimpressed with this city dwelling noble, he reminded her of the pricks she used kill for. The drow turned to leave and then with almost supernatural speed and silence she felt a cool blade at her throat as she was pulled to the ground.

“Shhhhhhh not a sound not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours.” he purred as she struggled then turned to her companion. “And you keep your distance no need for this to get messy.”

Was this fool serious? Inala could kill him in three different ways if she wanted to and wipe that smug grin right off his pretty face. “Really wish people would stop pulling knives on me today.” She groaned and the elf pressed the blade into her throat a little more.

“Now now I just want to talk. I saw you on the ship didn't I? Nod.” He gave the command and the drow glared at him her eyes becoming silver slits as she obeyed.

“Good.” he purred and then twisted the knife upwards when she struggled. “You're in league with them aren't you? Those tentacled-” the drow slammed her forehead into his before he could finish seeing an opportunity in the city elf's paranoia and taking it. He stumbled back holding his head as Shadowheart ran to assist her. The pale elf snarled his red eyes going dark as he shifted his grip on his dagger “You little-AH” in that moment their heads connected. Inala could see through his eyes, the dark alleyways the noisy taverns, the fear the pain. In moments they saw into each others souls. The elf's eyes widened a bit as she flooded his mind, flashes of an arrow sailing into a body with a thud, the excited screaming of corvids, the isolation and familiarity of darkness. They held their heads and stared at each other for a beat recognizing more than just a shared parasite affliction.

“What was that what's going on?” He demanded.

“Those things did something to us. The worms they're connected I think.” The drow snapped at him glaring in his direction.

The stranger straightened himself dropping his blade “You're …you're not one of them, they took you just the same as me.”

“I'm trying to find a cure so we don't become mindflayers. I saw it happen on the ship and I won't be sharing the same fate.”

“Turn us into mindflayers I- aha hahahaha!” He paused and began to laugh to himself while the horror and pain were evident behind his eyes. “Of course it will turn me into a monster.” He sighed sadly.

She stared at the pale beautiful man in fancy embroidery. He wouldn't last a day out here on his own and he did get the jump on her, he could be useful potentially.

“My name is Astarion. I was a magistrate in Baldur's Gate when those things grabbed me.”

The drow glanced up at him and considered something for a moment. “Im Inala. I'm a ranger in these woods. Do you need a place to camp? I suppose we should all stick together.” she asked him as Shadowheart looked on bewildered that her newfound companion just offered a strange man with a knife shelter. The handsome elf paused

“I was going to go this alone but sticking with the herd might not be a bad idea.” He smiled almost in relief. The drow returned his grin and held out her hand. Astarion hesitated then extended his own before being yanked forward, the rangers grip tight on his wrist. “One more thing city boy.” She hissed and twisted his arm behind him, her own dagger coming to rest under his chin. “If you pull a knife on me again I won't be as nice.”

Astarion audibly swallowed. “Noted.” He croaked out as he was released and shoved forward.

“That goes for you as well cleric, next person to threaten me with a blade loses the hand holding it.” Inala grumbled and marched ahead of her two companions.

“Feisty. I like it.” the elf rubbed the spot on his chin where her knife had been raising an eyebrow in interest. The cleric next to him groaned.

____________________

Their search for the githyanki had become much more tedious than anticipated. They had been through most of the wreckage and all they found was a tadpoled wizard in a rock formation who wasn't amused when Inala slapped his hand instead of pulling him free. Whatever he set himself up for that one.

There was a ruin ahead,and said wizard, who went by Gale, began to insist that they investigate sensing magic in the area or something.

“And what do you even expect to find in this dust covered death trap?” The pale elf asked as they made their way down the path.

“Hopefully something useful to help us deal with the parasites in our brains.” Gale replied marching ahead of the group. Astarion suddenly stopped and put his hand out to the two women behind him.

“We're not alone.” he hissed as Gale continued to talk away ahead of them.

“How do you know?” Inala whispered back.

“I can hear them! Several people down in the ruin one on watch.”

“I don't hear anything!” Shadowheart glanced around trying to hear whatever the fuck the elf was tuned in to. Inala also tried to listen for voices but got nothing. “I have no idea what you're on about.” she stared at him with suspicion. Either the elf was mad, or he happened to be blessed with the best set of ears in Faerun.

“Ugh we need to get closer clearly you both have abysmal hearing.”

“Or you're just a freak.” Shadowheart laughed earning her a glare.

That's when Inala saw the smoke from a campfire above the trees. Fuck the elf was right. Acting quick she bolted ahead and grabbed the wizard by the mouth pulling him off the main road and into cover holding his blabbering lips shut as he squirmed in protest. Astarion and Shadowheart had already joined her, the four of them glancing at one another for direction.

“What do we do?” Shadowheart whispered as gale made a noise of protest.

“Someone needs to scout ahead and determine if they're friendly. I vote for the city elf since he seems to have freak hearing.” the ranger suggested still holding a struggling Gale.

Shadowheart snickered again.

Astarion glared at the drow. “And I vote for the ranger since she seems to think she's in charge.”

Inala turned to him. “Well I don't see any of you making important decisions for the group.”

“Then allow me to be the first. Go scout ahead darling.”

Inala huffed and glared back at the rogue releasing Gale as she did. The wizard spun around at both of them.

“Well since the two of you seem to be so fond of eachother why don't you both go and take your bickering far away from here.”

They both turned their annoyance to Gale who finished dusting himself off. The ranger and the rogue eyed one another suspiciously.

“Only if he can finally keep his mouth shut. Are you even capable of that city boy?”

“I got the jump on you didnt I? Wild girl.” He sneered back and Inala wanted to wipe that pointy smug grin off his pretty face.

“How about the both of you stop posturing and actually do your jobs.” Shadowheart groaned in annoyance.

“He started it.”

“Did not.”

Gale shoved both of them back onto the dirt path “Just get on with it already! I swear the two of you are the noisiest scouts alive!”

________________

They approached the ruin in relative silence. Inala was even mildly impressed that the elf was as stealthy as he boasted. As they crept up behind a bush they could see a man posted on lookout and Astarion made a few gestures to her with his hands. Oh good he actually knows theives cant the city elf may be useful after all.

I count 7.

He signed to her and to his surprise she signed back.

8 there's one behind the door.

They both acknowledged the old wooden door the rest seemed to be guarding.

What do you think is behind it?

The elf asked and Inala smiled to herself as the gears in her head began to turn. She turned back to him.

If it's valuable, I want it.

That seemed to warm him up to her. A sinister grin grew on Astarion's lips as he peered over the bushes once more to get a look at the door. “Hmm maybe you're not so annoying after all ranger.” he whispered.

“Shall we get the others?”

“Do we need to?”

“Only if you think you can't handle a few bandits.”

“Oh trust me, I'm more than capable.”

“Good, I'm dropping the crates.”

“The what?”

Before he could protest the drow already had her bow out and aiming for a stack of heavy crates secured in a net above the camp. With a single shot she severed the rope watching them fall through the wooden platform they were secured over, taking two of the bandits with them. Astarion had no choice but to leap into action. He took aim at the guard and landed an arrow in his gut then followed up by jumping the man and slicing his throat. Inala had leapt up onto what was left of a stone arch firing an arrow through a half elf's eye then dropped from above onto the remaining bandit driving her hatchet into her skull. She spun in time to dodge a crossbow bolt shot at her by a halfling on the second story preparing herself to counter when an arrow flew through the man's throat shot by Astarion from the other side. The ranger and the rogue both glanced at one another with newfound respect as Gale and Shadowheart caught up to them.

“The hells happened? You two were supposed to scout ahead?!” The wizard yelled at the both of them.

“Oops.” The drow giggled as she cleaned her ax.

“Why are you even complaining wizard? We did all the dirty work for you.” Astarion scoffed as he began to loot the bodies.

“You murdered five people!” Gale gestured wildly to the carnage around them.

“Technically it was seven. I wouldn't call it murder really, I just got to them before they could kill me.” Inala rolled her eyes as she tossed Shadowheart a pouch full of food. Astarion gestured over to Inala.

“See the drow gets it!”

“Oh so you're friends now.” Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at him.

“Friends is a strong word cleric.” Inala huffed

“More like colleagues who appreciate a fellow artist's work.” Astarion gave the drow a dramatic bow which she returned with an appreciative nod.

“Why are all of you obsessed with violence?” Gale hissed as the door they had all forgotten about burst open with several fireballs being slung in their direction.

“Shit!” The four of them cursed in unison.

More bandits poured out into the ruin resulting in an all out brawl. Inala rushed the first one, easily landing a devastating blow to the torso with her hatchets then spun the dying man around to use as a meat shield for an incoming volley of arrows. Shadowheart had fired a beam of light at the dwarf who had Inala pinned but was overtaken by a dragonborn with a greatsword. Inala snarled and lept into action fighting him back with a few well executed counter maneuvers. He caught her once on the side and the drow saw red, leaping at him and driving her hatchet deep into the side of the dragon man's neck. She could feel her companions eyes on her, the pale elf in particular seemed awestruck by the blood and viscera that dripped from her skin. Freak. Inala thought to herself as she helped Shadowheart to her feet. The cleric healed her quickly then turned to help Gale as a few more bandits trickled out of the ruin. Inala could have sworn she saw the elf try to sniff his blade as he pulled it out of the chest cavity of one of them. The drow began to wonder what the hells mind flayers wanted with a collection of violent weirdos like them.

The final enemy fell with a scream in agony as their wizard delivered one last bolt of lightning straight to their back and then the battle was over. Bodies littered the outside of the old temple and blood stained the sand. The newly formed party panted and stood in the carnage glancing at one another. They'd all done well with their first test as a team. Astarion of course is the first to break the calm.

“Well it seems like we're all much more capable than we've been letting on ey?”

“Will someone please shut him up?” Inala groaned and began to silently loot the corpses.

Gale sighed and stretched his back “Oh believe me we are all wishing for it.”

___________________________________________

And thats chapter one! The gang is definitely going to need some team building exercises that dont involve murder but they at least work well together despite being disasters. Next chapter involves telling eachother secrets and some bonding. Hope you guys liked it!

#astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion x oc #inala is such a girlfailure i love her #theyre just stray cats hissing at eachother right now

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thatoneandlonelyemo2005 · 1 year

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Part 2 of the pirate au I now have

-Blink leaves the horrible Brookburn with that promise that he will return

-And the bitch does (ya know)

-Sometimes he goes alone, other times it's him and his crew passing by and need a place to sleep

-This is how Spot meets Race

-Blink brings him along just once and Spot almost dies on the docs right there

-By now it's been a few months and more wanted posters with Blink's name is on the walls and now he has to be extra careful

-Meets Katherine while looking for Mush but she finds out he's a pirate and tires to get him away from Mush

-But after a long talk with her Blink is allowed to see Mush WHO ONLY FINDS OUT HES A PIRATE WHEN PULITZER MENTIONS THE OUTLAW WITH THE BOUNTY ON HIS HEAD

-He dose it ever so very casually while eating dinner

-Pulitzer has eyes on the streets saying he keeps seeing a boy who looks just like him coming off a similar ship that has been described

-Mush stays silent though this whole conversation and tries to look like he doesn't know the guy

-Later that night Katherine tells Mush its true and she tried to protect him and Mush is so angry at the world he runs to the Inn where Blink is staying

-He climbs up to the window and taps very fast and Blink opens the window to an emotional Mush

-"Your a pirate you little biTCh AND A FAMOUS ONE WITH A FUCKING BOUNTY ON YOUR HEAD"

-First Blink is taken aback because holy shit Mush was in his window, holy shit an angry Mush is in the window, AND HOLY SHIT HE KNOWS

-Blink invites him in and explains to him why he didn't tell him, "I'm a pirate Mush, who would love me"

-"YEAH WELL IM A SEVERNT FOR THE FUCKING KING SO WHO WOULD LOVE ME"

-And it's quiet for a few minutes before Mush breaks down and Blink rushes to him and he kisses him on the lips

-Mush is now scared and asks Blink if he can go away with Blink and bring all his friends

-OFC Blink agrees and they start to gather everyone that night the ship is almost loaded and they just need Katherine

-BUT OFC Pulitzer is there to make everyone suffer

-So Mush is getting Katherine, it been awhile and everyone is starting to get worried, Mush said it wasn't gonna be long but that's when they get jumped and captured

-She only packed two bags and they had Mush's small belongings in the other

-They ran through the back door but are stopped by Pulitzer himself

-"So you thought you could run away from me princess''

-Katherine cringes on the spot and tries to protect Mush the best she can but Mush is not living it down without a fight

-And yes he's strong but he's outnumbered he does get many good punches in but they corner him and Kath

-Mush still tried to get away but a punch to the gut made him stop

-They put him in a prison cell and its dark, cold and painful

-It had to be only the early morning when Mush's door opened

-They threw Blink at him, he could hear a grown from the bloodie boy

-Mush rushed over to him and could see his legs and hands were chained up

-"Blink im sorry, I should have left sooner" Mush rubs his hand softly through his wrecked hair

-Blink caughed a little, "it's alright" he whispered softly, "I's got more people coming"

-Mush cried and kissed Blinks lips, he gently helped Blink to the bed and laid next to him praying to God that Blinks help would come soon

Part 1

#im gonna make a pt3 now #damn this new au #i need to be writing for the fic ectange #just whyyy #newsies #kid blink newsies #mush newsies #blush newsies #1992 newsies #92sies

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susandsnell · 9 months

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1, 6, 24 😉 xx

eeee, thank you so much ditty!!!! you're an absolute gem, hope this solstice thursday is treating you well!! <3

choose violence ask game 🔥

1. the character everyone gets wrong? pick a Batman Rogue. any rogue. literally any of them, and they will be Flanderized to hell and back over one to two traits they may not even have canonically possessed for two to three decades. I readily and wholeheartedly admit that this is not entirely the fault of fandom, and is at least partly owing to the broader problem with having long-running comics universes, because there is such a huge variance in characterization (and quality of said characterization thanks to the overabundance of edgelord and bigoted comics/comic media writers), in the gravity of their actions and where they land on the moral spectrum, and even in motivation that it is nigh impossible to even say what getting said character 'right' means unless the person is talking about a specific iteration (ex.: someone writing fic or making headcanons about specifically Paul Dano's Riddler from The Batman 2022, who has a very particular voice/ethos/motive distinct from your other Riddlers, though there are core shared traits). But of this bunch, i'd have to say my poor Ivy gets it the worst. I'm truly glad she's evolved beyond being just another Temptress of Men Who Hates Them But Also Needs Their Validation Through Constant Sex (although done right she's still a great femme fatale wasting their time and catfishing them for eco-terrorism purposes), and of course as a canon queer character she means the world to me, but as is the case with every popular female character, she's either Holding The Braincell (aka everyone's mom, and I don't mean in the kink way), or Irredeemable. A lot of this does arise from how poor the execution of modern canon Harlivy has been because of respectability politics, but reducing her to Snarky Husky Voiced Plant Lady Rolling Her Eyes At Harley's Antics, making her have her shit way too together (she's always sent to Arkham!), making her the one-sided babysitter/healer of Harley's problems (and by extension, the problems of any other woman), making her a snarky queer auntie to the Batkids (vomit, it's as cringe as the rest of mainstream Batfam fanon), making her have way too much emotional intelligence to the point of counselling others (she's not even one of the psychologist rogues!), having her whole existence revolve around Harley....it's exhausting. (And again, unfortunately something the writers are fucking up in canon constantly, too.)

Fandom as a whole is allergic to women having flaws that impact the narrative concretely without demonizing them for it (when the dudes doing the same and worse are adored and worshipped for it), doubly so if she's BIPOC or queer (because again, double the respectability politics), so they flatten out those flaws and it's like, is she even a villain anymore with her own motivations and ethos, or is she a big tiddy witch gf from a paywalled phone app dating sim? Let her be as complex and angry and jagged and hypocritical as the other male rogues, my god!! (Sidenote that I'm not against retooling characters' designs/presentations/tactics anew entirely for a new universe iteration, especially if it refreshes the narrative, so long as they're interesting and true to some spirit of the character. In other words, masc Ivy's are fine and more than welcome lol.)

6. Which ship fans are the most annoying?

Oh, you really want me to swing my bat at the hornet's nest with this one, huh? While the cheat answer for this is "all of them if you spend enough time in any given ship fandom", I'm the most frequently exhausted by migratory Good Girl Fixing Bad Boy fandom. Fuck it, I'll name names with periods. The Zutar.a/Reyl.o/Darkli.na/Dae.myra et cetera fandom. The ships themselves, I can take or leave (though my main gripe is frequently their execution is just boring). There's no moral objections on my part, to be clear. I'd be hypocritical to take that tack considering my own tastes in markedly more fucked-up shit and like, hello, I cut my teeth in Phantom of the Opera fandom since I was 12 and love gothic romances, so like, glass houses. My issue comes in where these types without fail are consistently smug about the potent feminism inherent to ships they specifically in fanon interpret in the most boring, gender essentialist, wattpad daddy-dom-size-difference kink ho-hum ways imaginable because...it makes them horny, and woman horny about traditional gender roles equals feminism somehow. If it stopped there, I'd've never developed such an animosity, but no no. They make arguments about how much more feminist it is than the (often canon) hero/heroine ships because Feminism Is When Woman Is Treated Like Property By The Man I Find Attractive. They act like cishet romances, usually between two white characters, is the most marginalized thing imaginable and whinge that artists/studios/creators are "too cowardly" to "include romance" if it doesn't go canon in the way they like, as if more marginalized romance stories aren't fighting tooth and nail just to get off the ground. And on that note, the bigotry I have witnessed firsthand in these circles is just appalling; this is a fandom-wide issue and certainly not exclusive to any one shipping community, but the amount of times I have seen them come off as just frothing at the mouth to be homophobic should a slash shipper not bend the knee to the Great Potent Feminism of their ships, and the amount of times the mask as come off is just. Whew. It's okay to just be horny. It really is. One does not have to make a Social Issue Thing about it.

24. Topic that brings up the most rancid discourse? Weird corollary to the above question, and kind of an overbroad answer so I apologize, but Appropriate Amount Of Condonation Versus Condemnation of both characters, and works of fiction as a whole. I feel like the purity culture discourse has gotten so toxic it's gone completely 0 or 100 "if you watch something where something bad happens You Yourself Are Guilty Of This Thing" or "nothing fictional has any impact whatsoever", when my take is a more nuanced idea of media normalizing and reinforcing certain biases, but also, it's not real lmao. If the work itself espouses certain troubling viewpoints it's unsurprising if the audience takes that on (ex: Frank Miller perpetuating racism and misogyny through his writings), but people are such whining babies about so much as glimpsing any kind of Problematic Media (especially miserable if you're a horror fan) that I understand how the knee-jerk defensiveness arose. On the other hand, the baby got thrown out with the bathwater, including by opportunistic bigots who want to shut down any and all critical discussion of social issues present in or surrounding their interests, lest it Spoil Their Fun (and to silence people over whom they're privileged), to the point that any critique from a moral standpoint is immediately branded as Purity Culture with no regard to nuance or the context of the perspective of the person making the critique. So for example, you have people who throw hissy fits about Catra from She-Ra getting a redemption arc and you have people who thoughtfully point out how the writing of certain tropes in a given work perpetuate transmisogyny, and they're all thrown in the same basket and it's exhausting. No space for nuance, you're either Pro or Anti, and to quote Sarah Z's excellent video on this issue, I for one am a tax-paying adult woman.

#thank you SO much for giving me the opportunity to bitch #hope you're doing wonderful!!! <3 #ask night

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sculptural-renaissance · 1 year

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SGU Week Day 7 (Yeah I skipped 6, I think I mentioned my fave eps indirectly a few times): Found Family

Colonel Young was definitely father figure to some of the younger men on board, so in the memes I make, he has definitely adopted the "Dad" role. I usually photoshop the name on his uniform to say "DAD" instead of "YOUNG" because I am that kind of neurodivergent lmao

So here's some Colonel Dad for ya~

My choir teacher told me this joke in grad school and I haven't gotten over it.

I may be in the minority, but I like this ship. I wasn't sold either way until I saw their alternate future in Epilogue, and later after reading an interview from Alaina Huffman where she talked about her thoughts on the pairing. Definitely swayed me in support of TJ being the Hot Stepmom of this little family. ❤️‍🩹

This is actually how it all started, me making memes in Facebook messenger about Rick and Morty.

God I'm cringe

Bonus

Maybe he does want to be your "slightly crazy uncle," but he's gonna be a tsundere about it the whole time

There

That's a mental image you have now

You're welcome

☆☆☆

All right, this has been something! Kinda reminds me of all those RWBY art challenges I used to do when I was younger and less busy and less tired. You know, like 4 years ago. It was fun! I'm glad I got to draw again, even if I didn't really have time and was doing it in between putting resin coatings on rings. 😂 Maybe I'll get to draw more in the future. The memes will certainly continue at a breakneck pace. Just gotta post em. I also got to use my new little keyboard because sometimes typing long things on my phone makes me dissociate haha 😅

Also I'm aware SGU week technically over, but I haven't gone to bed yet, so it's definitely still Sunday fight me IRL

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genlirema · 1 year

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Character ask meme:

Eusine

and Morty !!

Character Ask Meme (Accepting)

Eusine

What I love about them: God I wish I had even half of the drive & ambition (and energy) this man has to chasing his dreams he’s like Sonic but less cocky and more free-willed & i don’t think I can remember any other Pokemon character being this excited over just the slight chance of achieving their goals c’:

What I hate about them: It’s been a long while since I played SoulSilver but I didn’t find him creepy/stalker-like at all like the fandom likes to assume…? So I don’t really hate him for anything ._.;

Favorite Moment/Quote: Still cry over the fact that he congratulates you if you successfully catch Suicune. Man could’ve said nothing or told you off for crushing his dream but he decided to thank you instead for the chance to meet Suicune what did we do to deserve this man ;-;

What I would like to see more focus on: I do find it kinda weird that only Suicune gets the focus and not any other Legendary Beast…? We don’t get any context for why Eusine is only focused on Suicune specifically instead of the other two so that might’ve been cool to see i guess ._.; (I mean we kinda sorta got a special episode with Raikou I think but idk I don’t think that counts)

What I would like to see less focus on: Why did they make Eusine yell at Ash. I mean…I get why (kid basically claimed to see the gay chicken god but Eusine wasn’t having it) but why c’: (he never yelled at the player in-game so I see the anime Eusine as very ooc)

Favorite pairing with: Morty x Eusine! (Sacredshipping) but sometimes Jasmine x Eusine too (I think it’s called Simpleshipping…? Kinda basic if you ask me :P but still cute ^-^)

Favorite friendship: Guzma & Steven Stone. Guzma cuz of my oc phase (where basically my oc was friends with a bunch of Pokemon characters & became a crime-fighting team i dont care if its cringe shut up). Steven because I can see these two accidentally/coincidentally running into each other a bunch of times for them to eventually meet up & eventually become travelling buddies.

NOTP: …nobody ships him with Suicune right? …Right?

Favorite headcanon: I still like to think he’s a waterbender who learned from his uncle (which is the dude in Celadon City that can only be accessed through Surf). I mean…it gives further context for why he’s searching for Suicune specifically, plus I doubt any of his Pokemon know Surf either & it’d be kinda hard to chase a water deity if you don’t know how to use Surf yourself ._.;

Morty

What I love about them: He was the only male Ghost Gym Leader until the shy guy kid from Galar came along & stole his title :c in all seriousness tho I think he has the best character design out of all the Ghost Type Gym Leaders, even the Gen 4 design wasn’t too on the nose (like Agatha or the shy guy kid again, yeah yeah I know his name but i never played Sword/Shield so i’m not using it) or too obtrusive (Fantina…) Also his voice actor’s AMAZING and very underrated I wish people knew about Andrew Rannells more :c

What I hate about them: The Gen 4 design was still kinda pushing it as far as Ghost Gym Leader aesthetic goes & I still like his Gen 2/Anime design better but that’s just me :/ (also he killed my starter on my nuzlocke run when i was 11 ;-;)

Favorite Moment/Quote: I love the part in the anime where Ash asks: “wait you can talk to/understand Ghost Pokemon how?” And Morty just immediately answers “Practice.” (Also again thank you Andrew Rannels for the way the line was delivered I can’t do it justice but it’s like he saying “uuuh how do you do anything Ash huh?” xD)

What I would like to see more focus on: I don’t really see much of a problem with how he’s portrayed in game and/or the anime actually! True, more screen time and/or backstory is greatly appreciated for his interest in Ho-oh (at least in game, the anime is fine) but for what we got, I’m glad we had a Gym Leader who actually paid attention to/studied the mythos of the region for once instead of just being generic miniboss no. 14 (it might’ve been kinda cool to see his clairvoyance used more like in the manga but idk how that would work ._.;)

What I would like to see less focus on: idk he doesn’t get much screen time so there’s not much i can say about him that wasn’t needed…? Unlike Eusine, Morty’s initial attitude towards Ash (dismissing his claims about rainbow birb) made sense for his character (because he didn’t yell at him) but I guess if anyone was going to give Ash a hard time it should’ve been Morty, not Eusine. (Though this would’ve made for some annoying/petty/unnecessary drama so I can’t complain ._.;)

Favorite pairing with: Eusine (Sacredshipping) & Steven Stone (Knightshipping I think…? idk the pokeship list is a mess) Morty & Eusine both hold a special place in my heart for being the first Pokemon characters I liked (and for fueling the oc dream team I mentioned earlier) but I can also see some chemistry with Steven too! They can be chill together c:

Favorite friendship: uuuh does frenemies count cuz I still think Yellowjacket (Guzma x Morty) is the best Guzma ship I’ve come up with yet, platonic or otherwise (though I see them more as frenemies than lovers) I can also see AZ & Morty being close friends too…? idk i just want my top two favs to be buddies & share stories about their history and legendaries together 🥺

NOTP: I used to see Falkner x Morty EVERYWHERE on deviantart and it was very yabai 😬 (though hopefully that’s changed now…? It was less about the characters themselves & more about how they were portrayed…shota…)

Favorite headcanon: because I have been sucked into a new fandom hell I like to think Morty is Keito Hasumi’s uncle and I’ve been meaning to recreate my old dead rp blog just to write about their dynamic but he basically taught Keito everything he knows about music (and possibly magic) and was basically Keito’s second dad (since his real dad is probably too busy working as a monk) and no this totally isn’t just another way for me to put two of my fav characters together whaddya talking about (also the fact that both of these characters have the voices of an angel seriously go look up Andrew Rannells and Yuichiro Umehara right now they are too good for this world ;-;)

#thanks for the ask ^-^#answers by lirema #eusine #gym leader morty

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pxiedustnblades · 1 year

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*knocks on the door quietly, and then peek inside, bringing cookies and chocolate*

Hi Faye! :D How are you doing? I saw your requests for ask and questions, so, here I am bringing them to you! :D

1,2,3,6,9,13,20,27 and 28! :D I know they are a lot, so feel free to answer only the one you feel the most! No need to answer them all, if they make you feel overwhelmed. :)

--Nemo

Nemo!!

Oh my goodness thank you so much for the chocolate & cookies! Always a treat to hear from you. And always more then happy to oblige with answering those asks. While there are a lot, I am eager to answer them all. I am up to the challenge. Here, have some coffee for while you read.

1) Who was your first ever OC? Do you still "use" them? How have they evolved over time?

Aww this is a treat! My first ever OC was a HC’d lovechild between Kisshu and Ichigo from Tokyo Mew Mew. Her name was Claire Momomiya and I adored her like nothing else. Even so far as to making a silly little comic book with a school friend. The writing was atrocious and very cliche middle schooler wattpad weeb. 🤣 So you know, grossly cringe. Ugh since then Claire is still used be she is completely separate from her original counterpart. She now goes by Clara and has matured a great deal. Although I don’t use her anymore, she is still such a memorable and precious OC that she will never be discarded. I will find something for her one day.

2) Who is your newest OC Why did you make them?

Yvette is my newest oc! I made her shortly after I started playing God of War and saw Tyr’s design. After hearing what a gentle giant he was, and then seeing him in Ragnarok, I couldn’t help but be smitten. That and comparing my own height to his. 😳 He’s such a sweet, wise soul whats not to love though? Even if he is a bit of awkward giraffe lolol. Between that and general simping gutter brain, I wanted to give him someone to love and be loved by. But not by me lmao. No self insert here. But uhh my gutter brain was strong with this one because size difference make brain go brrr. And somehow these became the horniest, most mature, yet sweet canon x oc ship I have to date. Whoops?

3) Biggest self-insert OC?

OOH! That would be my sweet pea, Faline! Closest tie with her would be Florence. Although both are actual self inserts. Faline has been my longest standing Self-insert (going on 2 years soon) and one that holds most of my similarities. Including my height, build, my autism, my not-so-great childhood, trauma, and mental health. Genuinely v little difference between her and I.

6) Do you have any OCs without stories? Will you ever create one for them?

I mentioned it before but Clara is currently the one without a story. Although I’m not quite sure if you’re talking actual physical written & completed story or just a general background. I’m assuming the latter, but please correct me if I’m wrong. I will eventually give Clara a proper story, but for now she is content seeing me bond with my other OCs.

9) Favourite OC?

Oh my Gods, Nemo; how can you ask me such a thing? 🤣Just kidding I can actually answer this. My beloved Claudia is my favorite. She was such a treat to create. To go from a minor character made to push a plot point, to then being one of my biggest muses, she is a gem and a half. She is as complex as she is beautiful, and I look forward to continue creating stories for her and Darius.

13) Which story has the most lore?

Oh Gods “Saints & Sinners” by far. Ash and I have spent almost two years developing that universe. It initially started off as a silly “what-if” thing but now we have a whole world, timeline, rules, deities for every basic thing, A deity hierarchy system, Soul-bondings, rules for said deities, the reset system, etc. it used to only focus on four characters, now its expanded to following 8. 4 couples, all soul-bonded deities. It’s an incredible experience.

20) What story are you the proudest of? Why?

Hmmm probably “burn scars” as of right now. Its still in the works but its pushing me out of my comfort zone to deal with more graphic, emotion-heavy scenes. Trying to capture something like that is not easy, but considering it’s such a crucial part in Darius & Claudia’s timeline I am determined to get it right.

What are your favourite movies?

I’m not much of a movie person in general but the ones that have higher chances of holding my attention are animated films. I’m the worst when it comes to watching films. Its like pulling teeth to get me to do.

Thank you again for asking me everything Nemo! I hope you enjoyed!

- Faye

#ask game #faye answers

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azurezra · 8 days

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god i let these little occurrences and thoughts snowball into a massive tangle of nonsense instead of posting one at a time, LIKE:

how i keep fucking ending up on lj all of a sudden? WHAT IS UP WITH THAT? I HAVEN'T DARED LOG IN, NOPE, BUT.

while there, i tried checking if my gallery was visible?

IT WAS,,, O. THAT'S. GRATE. *looks thru it* emo memories COOL

LOOKS AT MY OLD USERPICS, OH BOY THESE. WERE. FUN!!(?)

GETS INSANE FEELINGS FOR GAIELI THNX TO MY POIGNANT(?) ~*SONG LYRIC*~ KEYWORDS???

LOOKS UP THE SONG oh its one i had been listening to on my damn ipod all this time cool

QUEUES IT UP!!

IIIIIIIIIII, I CAN SEE IT? WAS I RLY FEELING THAT BACK THEN? I'M SORTA IMPRESSED? WHY'D I FORGET? WAS IT A COINCIDENCE OR DID I NAB THE IDEA OFF SOMEONE ELSE? AND DID I NEVER FIND ANOTHER SONG FOR THEM TO MAKE A FST/PL??? M-MAN

W-WHAT IF I......STARTED ONE. N-NOW...? ¦D

then i went to bed thinking how i still love them so much, after all these years, and that led to HRM WAT OTHER OLD OTPS DO I STILL LIKE?! AND WHICH ONES DO I WISH TO PURGE FROM MEMORY LMAO and which ones are just a neutral/fond memory. INTERESTING...?

(useless inane rambling below)

and now i'm STUPID feeling OVERWHELMED trying to think of all my old otps? but like. which ones. EVERY SINGLE ONE? even if they only lasted for a few weeks/months? ....clearly i'm struggling to differentiate btwn just ships i liked and OTPs /:

I CAN'T DECIDE...NVM EVEN REMEMBERING "HOW LONG" EACH ONE LASTED, FFS!

how about only ones i looked at/created fanwork/IMAGINATED @ BEDTIME (BEFORE OCS TOOK OVER, OOPS!!)

y-yeah. i... that's probably a GOOD indicator. but. otoh, tumblr and twtr rly made the "looked at fanart" RLY, rly easy to just. "passively consume" ship art... damn. /:

AND NOW WAT AM I GONNA TRY TO ACCURATELY QUANTIFY EACH ONE t-that'll just bring me down cos the older ones i DEFINITELY DREW stuff... but. then... ):

AND I DON'T EVEN FEEL UP TO LOOKING UP IMAGES OF EACH CHARA LOL FUCK I DON'T EVEN WANNA TYPE SOME NAMES I'M FEELING THAT CRINGE PFFT s-sob

AND THEN THE DUMBASS IDEA TO INCLUDE MY OWN OCS TOO, BECAUSE THEY ARE THE SUPERIOR OTPS T B F H...!! but. moar shame @ the declining creativity....;; (spriting & writing, but no drawing)

but now i've probably just given up on the whole dumb thing. so why even post this? idk.

#ezcetera rambling

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bouwrites · 1 year

Text

Those Warm and Halcyon Days: Chapter 35

Interlude: Homecoming

Ao3.

First, Previous, Next.

Story under read-more.

“That was fun! And profitable! I’m honestly feeling kind of sad that our trip is almost over,” Anna pouts.

Veery cringes, using the hood of his travel cloak to mask his face. Yes, travelling and working with Anna is fun, and she’s very conscientious of his needs and alone time even on the road, but… Veery can go his whole life without another road trip like that. “…I guess. Did I really have to do that to Pallardó, though? I can still taste it…”

“He tried to rip us off! Besides, I fed you like a king after that, so no complaining!”

“I thought you said my meals came out of my cut of the profits.”

“Details, details!” Anna waves him off, laughing earnestly all the while. “What’s important is that after all this, we’re both swimming in cash!”

Veery frowns. “I’m still concerned about Edelgard hearing about what we were doing.”

Anna snorts. “What’s she going to do? I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain to the letter. She never said I couldn’t do some work on the way. And we’re out of Adrestia now, anyway, so there’s nothing to worry about.” Anna taps her chin, frowning suddenly. “Although… I do have to ask… are you really okay with this? You’ve made more than enough to pay for a boat to Derdriu if you want to get back. I was only paid to get you to Albinea, not keep you there.”

The icy northern wind cuts through Veery. He tugs his cloak tighter around him as he sighs. “I…” Already his voice wavers. “No. Claude will be fine without me. Having the so-called cat saint with him will only make things worse for him in the long run. And I… I hate fighting. I don’t want to go to war.”

Anna hums. “Well, I can’t blame you. Just take care of yourself. Alright? You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had. Not just anyone could have gotten us out of that Pallardó fiasco and come out with all the loot.”

“See, you bring that up, but I still feel bad.”

“And I keep telling you, he tried to rip us off! You don’t have to feel bad for him. I certainly don’t.”

Veery crosses his arms, pouting. “You aren’t the one that-”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, anyway!” Anna says. “The point is, no matter where you go, if you see an Anna, she’ll take care of you. Got it?”

Anna pats Veery on the head, making him duck just a little, but he smiles up at her nonetheless. “Yeah. Thanks… I’ll remember that.”

“Good! And look, Albinea is finally in sight!”

Veery follows her pointed finger to the bow of the ship and beyond. And it’s true. Finally. Over a year gone, and Veery finally lays his eyes on Albinea once more.

Feelings he doesn’t even know the name of fill him up to the brim. A cold, leaden weight in his gut is ever present from the moment he decides to leave Fódlan. That doesn’t go away, but overtop of it is something that expands within his chest, pressing out against his ribs like it’s alive, begging to be freed to fly the rest of the way home.

Gods… home. At last. Veery may joke about Albinea being horrible – and during the winter at least, that’s definitely not wrong – but nonetheless… this is his home. His eyes land on the town they’re approaching, wood and stone, low but intricate, so big but miniscule compared to what he sees in Fódlan. Then, he casts his gaze up past the town, to the snow-capped mountains towering over the land and the forest crawling up them.

That’s home. Veery’s breath comes up short. He can only smile at the sight. Nagging guilt and doubt become so constant in his life, fear and uncertainty have always been there, and even now he does miss Claude and Sylvain and Lysithea and… everyone. He worries for them, he hates himself for leaving them to fight this war while he hides in Albinea, he is ashamed that he fails them so severely when they need him, both with the people and in battle against Edelgard. But… this is home.

Despite everything else he feels, for the first time in a long time, maybe ever – he can’t remember if he felt this way before he left, if he’s honest – he feels like he’s somewhere he actually belongs.

Very nearly, at least. Not this town, but that forest beyond it. He can taste the bitter chill on the air, the distinct Albinean trees, everything that is familiar to him. And he is… excited to be home.

The ship docks and Anna has Veery carry some cargo for her. He’s a little paranoid of the Albineans seeing him, but it turns out that Anna’s sister isn’t far, and no one seems to notice.

Anna’s sister is… nearly exactly like her in every way. Of course, Veery knows this already, in theory, but it’s still interesting to see for himself. The Albinean Anna tries to play a trick on him, in good fun, by pretending to be the Fódlander Anna, but though they look identical and neither has any discernable accent, Veery quickly figures out that scent is an easy and reliable way to tell them apart, so he’s not fooled.

(He thinks he impresses both Annas, but he’s not entirely sure.)

Uninterested in whatever business two Annas could possibly be arguing about (a road trip with one is more than enough Anna business for him) Veery hangs back as they chat. This Anna’s shop isn’t that different from the one in Garreg Mach, so it puts him a little at ease despite the very real chance of one of the townspeople or sailors coming through the door at any moment. Veery keeps his hood up because of that chance.

In Fódlan, though he suffers gossip and rumormongering, he is relatively free to walk about without hiding his identity. He can’t shift outside the academy grounds, except when escorted by Knights of Seiros, but he doesn’t have to hide his ears and face in this form.

Even so, Veery smiles, because this shop is so alike to the one that he knows and because soon enough, he will be free again. Free to roam the wilds, to live as he pleases, alone and at peace.

He hopes. He believes. Fly free, Sothis tells him, and alone, if that is what he wishes. Veery is a hermit, solitary by nature… Even so, he’s going to miss his family. But he will be free. Free and alone, as he is meant to be.

The Annas wrap up their business, and together take him to the edge of town, where he can run off into the forest and make his own way. Goodbye is bittersweet. Veery knows this is likely the last contact with humans – maybe with anyone – that he’ll have in a long time. He’s as eager to get going as he is reluctant to bring this wild, adventure-filled chapter of his life to an end.

But people are shaped by memories. The person he is is forever changed by his experiences. He will look back on his time in Fódlan… fondly. He can see his mistakes, he feels the guilt for them, but even so he does not regret a thing.

The last time he walks through an Albinean town… he is so paralyzed by fear that he very nearly misses his boat. Probably the only reason he stays on the boat is because he can’t bring himself to come out of hiding and face trying to get back onto the dock.

Now, though… he’s wary, scared and cautious in the same way that he is when hunting, but not overwhelmed. Even as he walks boldly through the streets, avoiding the center of town but still navigating through it to get inland, the difference between the Veery that leaves Albinea and the Veery that returns is stark in his mind.

Fódlan is a great adventure, a crazy, confusing, terrible, horrifying year of his life, but also perhaps the most fun. He won’t be bored back home in Albinea, but… he is going to miss having so much excitement all the time. And he’s going to miss his family.

He… wants to say goodbye, at least. If nothing else, he can take comfort in that, if Anna doesn’t tell them directly, their adventures on the way out of Adrestia will likely reach Claude’s ears. His friends and family will at least know he’s alive.

And that he’s abandoning them.

He shakes his head roughly. No thoughts like that. They’re worthless. He’s home now, and Albinea is not so hospitable that he can slack off like he does at Garreg Mach. He needs to take care of himself and run free, so that he can survive. He will not shackle himself with worthless thoughts.

“Well… this is it,” Anna, Fódlander Anna, says. “I’ll see you again. Right?”

Veery fiddles with the hem of his cloak. “I hope so,” he says honestly. “I don’t know when, but I’ll… try to make it back to Fódlan someday. This is my home, but… I think I’d be sad to never see Fódlan again.”

Anna smiles. “My sister will help you get there, if you don’t run through all our profits by then.”

Veery snorts. “No offense to your sister, but I seriously doubt I’ll be seeing her nearly as much as I saw you.”

Albinean Anna laughs. “None taken! The trek to here from the wilds isn’t even close to going into town from the monastery. I’d be surprised if I saw you more than once every few months. Still, I’ve got a good memory. Don’t ever hesitate to drop by – any friend of my sister’s is a friend of mine. Maybe you can do some work for me for a change?”

Veery chuckles. “If you need my help and I’m around, I don’t see why not.”

Fódlander Anna giggles. “Well, I’m sure we’ll see each other again. Keep an eye out for me when you come to Fódlan next. Otherwise, I’ll keep my sister updated on the war, so if you’re curious how things are going over there, you just come back and ask her.”

Veery nods. “Thank you. Information on Fódlan will be hard to come by alone in the wilds.”

“Tell me about it.” Anna shakes her head. “Well, time is money. I have a little more business here, then I’m heading back to Fódlan.”

Veery looks between the two sisters for a moment and slowly turns away. “Stay safe, Anna.”

Anna grins, grabs her sister, and heads back into town.

Veery turns to the forest, warming from the onset of spring. He shifts and begins his journey deep into the wilds, where he will be alone. Alone, and free.

It’s easy to forget, when he is surrounded by people and walls, the easy simplicity of simply picking a direction and wandering. Veery has no true destination. The agell lie to the north, the humans to the east and south, but beyond that Albinea is home to only the wildlife.

Of course, bears pose a threat even to him, and neither are moose safe. The agell likely won’t be eager if he accidentally wanders into their territories, either. All the same, that’s just… natural. It’s no towering wall, but respect and caution and a well-trained survival instinct. It’s not a cage.

How strange. Now that Veery is finally home, he sees everything so differently. He grows up in these wilds, yet he doesn’t make these comparisons when he goes to Fódlan, but rather when he comes back.

He can’t honestly say that he doesn’t realize how oppressive the humans’ towering walls are until now, but it’s only now that he’s home that he really and truly appreciates not having them. It’s like something heavy weighing over him lifts, and he can finally let loose.

Every standard, every pair of eyes watching him, scrutinizing him. Every lesson on etiquette and every rule of Garreg Mach’s culture. It’s all stripped away with those walls. He runs because he can, he jumps because he can. He romps and plays and laughs alone because no one can possibly judge him, because doing so cannot possibly injure someone else.

And he travels, a day and a night of hunting and living and generally moving northwest, towards the mountains and then following their spine more directly north, and away from the coast he arrives on.

And then he finds a nice enough place and roars.

A roar of dominion, of righteous assertion that he is home, no matter what anyone has to say about it. Veery roars to carve his place into Albinea once more. To mark his territory, and his right to roam through it.

He’s home. He belongs here, and he roars it to the heavens to stake his claim to even the gods.

Panting, he quiets down, laughing to himself with a kind of childish glee. Roars like that are something that, for the past year, he reserves only for battle. The humans in Garreg Mach would panic immediately if he were to stand and roar like this, but now that he’s home, he can roar to his heart’s content. Oh, how he misses simply roaring! It’s a simple pleasure, to unapologetically assert oneself to the land, sky, and sea, but it’s a great one.

Veery pauses, turning his ears and tilting his head. Yes, there. Another roar. Another agell! Veery may not jump for joy to go and meet them, but he can’t deny that he’s filled with a warmth and peace to hear another agell after so long. He’s aware that they face none of the threats he does in Fódlan, only the typical Albinean ones, but even so to have confirmation that they yet live is… remarkable.

Ha, they are curious. Of course, they are. Veery has no idea if this agell knows who he is or where he comes from. It’s understandably rare to have a new neighbor that comes up from the south rather than down from the north. And if they do recognize Veery at all, they likely are surprised that he is not dead.

Frankly, he’s surprised that he is not dead.

But no. He’s faster, stronger, smarter, and has a collection of new scars mapping out his mistakes, but he is not dead.

He’s home. He’s home! By the gods, he’s home! He can sit content here forever, if only the sun would stop turning in the sky.

Alas, the world keeps moving as it always does. It is not the callous indifference of the world that keeps it going no matter how much any individual may wish for it to stop, but a reminder that he is not the only one living in this world. To stop the world would stop everyone, so the world keeps moving.

And so does Veery.

It is a warm day. In the bright, blue weeks during which the sun turns in the sky but does not hide from view, agell roar notice of gathering, stories, and celebration.

Veery, the hermit that he is, does not typically partake in such events. He attends perhaps half of all gatherings, and then only to hear the histories from the elders. There is no oath or creed that obligates his attendance, but most agell show up more often than not. At the very least, they act like they do.

This year, however, when Veery hears the gathering-roars, he travels north to the usual meeting place. An ancient agell ruin, not all that dissimilar to Zanado, save for the fact that it is in the flatlands west of the mountains rather than in them, with the earth itself crumbling out from under it.

Echoes of Zanado linger in Veery’s memory. The Red Canyon. The tragedy that befalls it, once upon a time. Veery knows how terrible a sight it must have been, after fighting and living through the battle for Garreg Mach. Red blood and red flames consume all. Veery pauses as he walks, staring at his own paw, hating its color.

It’s not the first time he wishes he were different, but such wishes are unwise to linger on. He should not worry himself overmuch with things that cannot be changed. He can control his behavior, to an extent his experiences, and with care the status of his mind, but he cannot change his coat of fur save to shed it all and die in the cold.

How funny, to think that his jasper fur could fit in so well under Adrestia’s banner. But appearance does not define allegiance. Circumstances as they are, there is simply no way that Veery can support Edelgard. Even if she is a friend.

Veery honestly does not know if any fondness remains in her heart for him. He won’t be surprised if there is none. But as for himself, his heart still hurts to think of her. He cares for her still, and so to support, even distantly in no significant way, what will ultimately end in her demise does pain him.

But he has other things to concern himself with. He is no longer in Fódlan. His life is here, in his home, and so he must build that life. It will be good to hear the songs of the elders again. It’s… nostalgic even to think of it. It is so difficult to think that he is only gone from Albinea for a single year.

“Is that you, Veery?” A familiar voice, one that dominates what little of Veery’s childhood is spent listening to others speak. What’s more, it’s in his own language. Veery hears the roars for some time now, but hearing this spoken tongue feels like coming home all over again. “It’s been too long. When you did not show yourself for so long, we feared the worst.”

Veery smiles. “Affah. It’s… good to see you.”

Old Affah chuckles, patting Veery’s shoulder with a familiarity that, despite the part of him that appreciates the gesture – the welcome – Veery is not prepared for and shies away from. Veery shying from touch and people is nothing new to someone who knows him as well as Affah, however, so all he gets in response is another laugh. “You’ve grown,” Affah says sagely. “You are stronger than you were the last time I saw you. With a different air about you… something new in your eye.”

Veery sighs. Veery knows he doesn’t hide his emotions well, and he knows he will have to answer these questions. All the same, he isn’t looking forward to it. Still, it’s why he’s here. He must face the agell eventually. Postponing it won’t do him any good. He needs to know if he’s even… If he’s welcome anymore, after his time among the humans. “Yes,” Veery agrees. “I’ve experienced much this past year.”

Affah hums. “Perhaps this time you will be the one to tell the stories, then, hm? Or will you beg me once more for a song you’ve heard a thousand times?”

“I always was the best listener you had at these gatherings, Affah. Don’t act like you don’t appreciate it.”

“Ha! And you’ve even grown a wit! Mind you don’t get carried away, though, little cub. Come. You will tell me of your growth. Whatever makes little Veery into such a strong warrior is surely a tale worth shutting my old trap for.”

“It’s a long tale, Affah,” Veery says, following the old cat through the crumbling walls. “I’m not sure I know how to tell it all.”

“You disappoint me!” Affah chides affectionately. “Any cub who listens so intently to my old yowling can only grow into an unmatched storyteller. Pick up a drum. Tell your tale. I will listen to you for a change.”

“You, and you alone.” Veery frowns, watching the other agell note his presence. There is curiosity, of course, but also suspicion. Veery has always been a little too close to the humans. He doubts many here don’t know where he’s been for the past year – at least not now that they know he’s alive. There aren’t exactly many places to go. He is either within agell territory or in human territory. “Or have you not figured out where I’ve been this past year?”

Affah pauses his shuffling for a moment to scowl. “The humans, I suspect,” Affah says simply. “And yet you come back to us. I would hear this tale, that I might know who you are now.”

Veery bites his lip, withering under the serious gazes of Affah and all the other watching agell. “Affah…”

“I have known you since you were a tiny cub, Veery,” Affah says slowly. “I have long wished to see you hold your head high and show the true strength of your heart. You have some way to go yet, but the one speaking to me now is not the same Veery who I saw last. I want to know just how the humans have changed you.”

Veery gulps down the lump in his throat. Despite everything, and even though Veery does not regret going to Fódlan, he does feel as if he has betrayed the agell. After all the warnings, all the lessons, he discards them all to carve his own fate. It’s a miracle he’s alive, and it feels disrespectful to face Affah now, having thrown half of his lessons into an avalanche.

Even so… “You’re soft, old man.” A cutting voice pierces the gathering. Affah raises a patient brow, only smiling at the interjection. “No one should listen to the words of a taguel.” The cat is large, easily the side of Raphael – quite a bit bigger than Veery – and in the height of his strength. His hulking figure bears battle-scars on display, obviously from both human weaponry and agell tooth and claw.

Veery immediately sinks into readiness. Outwardly, he doesn’t show much, but he prepares himself just in case, waiting for this offended agell to try something more physical.

“The traitorous runt should run back to the humans. He’s not welcome here.”

Affah shakes his head sadly. “You are too eager, Hoarvug. We do not yet know Veery’s tale.”

“There’s no need,” Hoarvug says. “The whelp’s brain is addled. He chased the furless dastards and got burned. Now he crawls back here with their poison on his lips to do their bidding like the good pet he is.”

Pet? Ugh. It’s not an unexpected insult, but it’s one that stings nonetheless. It’s true that Veery pledges himself to Claude, and that Veery will honor that pledge should Claude call on him, but finding family is far different than being a human’s pet.

Though, the argument that he is simply being played for a fool, and manipulated rather than forced into servitude, is not an unsound one. Claude is clever enough for it, and Veery gullible enough. The question is a matter of if Claude would do such a thing. Veery does not want to suspect it, and he does not believe it, but it is something that nags at him from the moment he begins getting close to Claude.

Hoarvug picks at the wound of an old doubt, and it hurts.

“You’re always causing trouble, Hoarvug.” A young woman approaches, shaking her head. Her tail lashes as she glares at Hoarvug. “We should rejoice that one of our own has come back alive and whole.”

“Rejoice!” Hoarvug guffaws. “He is not one of us, Sadi! He’s taguel! He’s a disgrace to our proud people, a traitor who sympathizes with our enemy!”

“He has not even said why he approached the humans in the first place.” Sadi scowls. “Judge him after we know his story.”

“I will not listen to the words of a taguel,” Hoarvug growls. “And you would be wise to stay out of this. Unless you mean to join him licking at the human’s boots?”

Sadi huffs. “Your pride will be the death of you. Veery, is it? I’ve seen you before, but I do not believe we’ve talked.”

Veery shuffles in place awkwardly. “I’m… not much of a talker.”

Sadi giggles. “Yes, I remember. I only ever saw you creeping along the edges of our gatherings or listening to Affah’s tales. But from what I do remember, you are not the same cat that left us a year ago.”

Hoarvug curls his lip. “Do not debase yourself, Sadi. There are more than enough true agell to sire your children. It’s disgusting to think someone like you would consider a traitor.”

“Ugh. Speak to me like that again, and I will ensure that you are no longer capable of siring.”

“You’re welcome to try!” Hoarvug laughs. “That’s your charm!”

“Unfortunately, you have no charm.” Sadi shakes her head. “I would listen to Veery’s story, if he would sing it for us.”

“He will not!” Hoarvug growls, serious again. “I refuse to allow him to poison the rest of us. Taguel have no right to speak here.”

“There is no right to speak for anyone,” Affah says patiently. “We are a free people, who speak as we please.”

“But taguel are chained to their human masters,” Hoarvug sneers. “He can run back to his. Bring them here, so they might grant him permission. If we do not kill them first.”

“You are the only one causing trouble here, Hoarvug!” Sadi hisses. “Sheathe your claws before you embarrass yourself.”

Hoarvug laughs loud and full. “I am not the one who will embarrass myself. Watch me, Sadi. I will show you the strength of a true agell.” He narrows his eyes at Veery. “You! Taguel! You will fight me here. If you mean to call yourself agell, then prove your strength! Show me that your human masters have not dulled your claws!”

Sadi groans. Affah chuckles. “My, my… Hoarvug has always been a bit hotheaded. I wonder how this will go…”

Great. Already someone wants to fight him. “I have no interest in fighting,” Veery says dully.

“And I have no interest in the words of a cowardly runt,” Hoarvug says. “Shift and face me or run back to the humans. If you don’t prove your strength, your words fall on deaf ears, taguel.”

Veery shakes his head, almost disbelieving of the absurdity. “And if I defeat you in battle, that makes me worth listening to? Do you think with your claws?”

Sadi snorts. “Unfortunately, yes. Sorry, Veery, but I don’t think he’s going to let this go.”

“Of course, I’m not!” Hoarvug shouts. “I will not let anyone break our pride!”

Veery sighs. “And your pride is so fragile that you must gore everything it encounters.”

“Shift or flee, coward. Your words mean nothing!”

Once upon a time, this would terrify Veery. Hoarvug is no small agell. He has Veery beat in size and strength easily. His impressive golden mane fits him like a crown, and he is every bit as aggressive and dangerous as most fear from a cat his size.

But Veery faces down demonic beasts. Wolves and hawks and twisted, demented dragons more than double Hoarvug’s size. Veery bloodies his claws in the flames of Remire and Garreg Mach. He faces down the black beast in Conand Tower, the Death Knight, Solon, Kronya, and Edelgard herself. One proud, boastful cat does not scare Veery. Not anymore.

“Fine, then,” Veery says. “I’m not a people person, but even I would rather not avoid these gatherings forever. I can see that this is going to have to happen sooner or later, so we may as well do this now.”

“Ha!” Hoarvug laughs. “And here I expected you to run. Good, then! Show me that your humans haven’t shackled you! If you’re still a true agell, show me that your time away has strengthened you, runt!”

Veery sighs heavily. “Why do I feel like you’re more interested in fighting than any of this pride business?”

Hoarvug grins from ear to ear, already dropping low, tail thrashing. “I remember you too, you know. You’re the little ghost of a cub, always skulking about. I speak true about the honor of the agell, but I do admit to liking that look in your eyes. You’re a warrior now. I can tell. Show me your heart, taguel, so I know whether you’re one of us, or if I should rip it from your chest. Either way, I’m going to enjoy this.”

Hoarvug shifts, and surprisingly, in this form, Veery does recognize him. It’s not as if Veery has ever spoken to him, of course. As he says, before going to Fódlan, Veery is little more than a frightened cub avoiding everyone but the elders at story time. It wasn’t necessarily out of fear rather than his own solitary nature, but this hulking golden cat, loud and self-important and proud, definitely did scare him. Back then, Hoarvug scared him enough to stand out enough that Veery remembers even now.

How strange. Veery can see Hoarvug’s thick muscles, his massive teeth, and his razor-sharp claws, but frankly, though she’s just a small girl, Edelgard scares him far more. It feels strange to confront that fact, but it’s not that surprising. Strength alone does not win a fight. Perhaps even more important is how he fights, and what he is willing to do to come out on top. Edelgard will sacrifice anything to achieve her goals. That makes her far more dangerous than someone like Hoarvug, who is in this mostly just to show off his own strength.

Very well, then. This is happening. Veery shifts, readying himself for battle.

Hoarvug pounces first, impatient to draw blood. Veery slips around him and slashes at his flank, but Hoarvug is fast for such a large cat and manages to dodge it.

This entire fight is stupid. Pointless. If he can, Veery wants to end it quickly. There is no need to prolong idiocy.

Alas, Hoarvug’s pride in his strength is not without merit. As they clash, he proves that handily. As if he weighs nothing, Hoarvug lifts Veery from the ground and tosses him about, battering the air from his lungs. Veery land hard on his back when Hoarvug throws him, but even breathless, Veery sees Hoarvug’s pounce, meaning to land atop him and crush him.

Veery has no time to roll to his feet and out of Hoarvug’s way, but he does have time to meet Hoarvug with his claws.

Hoarvug lands hard, and his longer reach leaves Veery with a stinging muzzle from Hoarvug’s claws, but Veery still snarls and pushes with all his might. He may not be as big as Hoarvug, but he is no weakling. He kicks Hoarvug off of him flipping him over his head onto his own back and freeing Veery to rise to his feet.

What a pain. Veery winces, tasting his own blood as it drips down across his lips. Nothing will be gained from allowing an opponent stronger than him to control the tide of battle. Veery rushes in, pouncing the moment before Hoarvug stabilizes his own footing, and tackles him off his feet once more.

Hoarvug hits the ground and Veery jumps into the air to come down on top of him. Hoarvug brings his legs up to guard, but Veery twists his body around and lands with his front paws directly on Hoarvug’s throat. The stun gives Veery enough time and space to duck away from the dangerous claws and come back from a different angle, this time to get Hoavug’s throat in Veery’s jaws.

Coughing and spluttering, Hoarvug nonetheless rolls and draws back. Veery’s teeth scrape golden fur, catching a broad ear and clamping down. Hoarvug pulls back hard, so Veery digs his claws into the earth and yanks right back. The feeling of tearing through Hoarvug’s ear is visceral, almost chilling, but Veery snarls as his teeth pierce skin and rip a jagged line through, rending a piece from Hoarvug entirely.

Both cats stand bloodied, wounds littering their bodies, but Veery still has an advantage. Hoarvug doesn’t quite catch his breath, and if Veery waits too long, that will change. He does not allow a standoff. Instead, he darts in.

Hoarvug lifts up, showing off his full size and preparing to come down on Veery. Veery is fast, though. When he sees Hoarvug lift himself up, he pushes himself harder, not willing to let the opportunity pass. He leaps, catching Hoarvug in the chest just as he comes to the peak of his rise, pushing Hoarvug further up than he intends. With Hoarvug’s own strength helping Veery overcome him, Veery is more than strong enough to knock Hoarvug back so that he falls over his own tail.

Veery stays close, too. Too close for Hoarvug’s longer limbs to get between them and claw out Veery’s guts. They fall together, Veery landing on Hoarvug, and Veery crawls up, unwilling to rise to put nearly any space between their bodies, forces Hoarvug’s chin upwards with one small leap and a heavy paw, and closes his jaws around Hoarvug’s neck.

He doesn’t bite down hard. Veery has no interest in killing Hoarvug. Still, he bites firmly, so that Hoarvug feels it and does not struggle. And he does not.

Instead, Hoarvug laughs.

When Hoarvug shifts back, Veery backs off of him, scowling. Why is he laughing? Is Veery dealing with another weirdo like the Death Knight? Hoarvug laughs still and throws his arms out wide. “I’ve lost! Ha! I knew you were different, Veery, but I never expected you’d actually beat me! Good fight! I’ll be feeling that for days!”

Veery shifts back wincing at the stinging of his nose and upper lip. Stupid, pointless battle and the stupid, pointless injuries because of it.

“I’m as good as my word,” Hoarvug says far too jovially for someone bleeding as much as he is (and with part of his ear missing, no less). “Your time with the humans has turned you into a warrior worth listening to. I’ll hear your story.”

Veery blinks, still not following his logic at all. “…Thanks?”

Hoarvug hooks an arm over Veery’s shoulders, cackling. “I want to hear about all your battles! Tell us of your scars! A warrior like you has earned the right to boast of your strength.”

Sadi comes in quickly, shoving Hoarvug off of Veery and frowning at his wounds. “Don’t mind him,” Sadi says. “He’s an idiot. You’ll tell your story after we take care of these wounds.”

“Sadi!” Hoarvug complains. “We’re battle-flushed warriors! Let him enjoy his victory before ordering him around like a cub.”

“I thought you didn’t even like me.” Veery frowns.

“But you’ve impressed me in battle!” Hoarvug roars. “You’ve scarred me, and I you, and we are bonded in blood now and forever!”

Bonded in blood… does he mean what Veery thinks he means? Because you don’t just throw that kind of bond on someone. To be together in that way, in the most explicit sense, is to war together as a single unit, sometimes even sharing hearts on the battlefield. (In fact, some definitions have that act as the meaning of the bond, despite it generally having a broader meaning of simply facing struggle as a single power, whether that struggle is as violent as war or not.) It’s also considered something for life, like the kind of bond between a couple who would raise a cub together. It’s way too intense for barely knowing each other, not to mention, that kind of bond is supposed to be from fighting together against a mutual enemy, not each other.

And yet the way he’s talking…

What a weirdo. Still… “Speaking of which, do you want me to heal that ear of yours?” Veery asks. “You might pass out if you don’t at least tend to it.”

“Don’t worry about me, battle-brother!” That word, in Ancient, only has one meaning. He does mean it. Gods above. At least it’s the prospective form of the word, rather than the established. “You’ve felt how tough I am. A scratch like this won’t ruin my celebration!” Hoarvug grins wildly, uncaring how his ear continues to bleed profusely.

Veery sighs. He’s not even going to try to process whatever Hoarvug is saying. “Well… don’t say I didn’t warn you. As for me…” He touches his face gently wincing from the sting of it. He has a collection of other new little scars from this battle, but wounds on the head and face always bleed a lot and the others aren’t that deep, so he should probably tend to this one first.

Sadi frowns. “What do you mean to heal him?” she asks. “You’ve bitten off a part of his ear – that doesn’t heal.”

Veery shrugs. “Well… no, I wouldn’t fill in the part that got torn off. But…” He hesitates, eyeing her, Hoarvug, Affah, and the others watching warily. If he tells his tale in full, they’ll learn anyway, and he’d rather not spend the rest of the night bleeding, so… He sighs. “In Fódlan, where I went for this past year, the humans have healing magic.” Sadi’s eyes widen. “I’m… strangely not too bad at it. I can at least close these wounds. Stop the bleeding.”

“Human magics?” Hoarvug frowns.

Sadi knits her brow warily as well. “I’m not sure about that… that sounds dangerous.”

Veery shakes his head. “It’s… kind of weird, I admit, but I’ve been doing it for a while now. Watch.” He reaches up to his face and heals the scratches there. It’s not that bad, all things considered, but it’s severe enough that when he’s finished with it there are still noticeable scars. Not the ugly, raised, jagged scars around Veery’s upper arm or stomach, but scars, nonetheless.

Affah approaches, examining Veery’s face closely. “The humans taught you their magic? Hm… I have heard of this magic before… the humans call it Faith if I am not mistaken. I did not think it possible for an agell to use it.”

“Neither did I,” Veery says. “Turns out there are a lot of lies about it, spread by the ones in charge to stop it from becoming widespread.” He shrugs. “It’s a control thing. I met the one in charge over there and she was… well, it’s a control thing.”

Hoarvug snorts. “That sounds like humans. Still, I can acknowledge you as a warrior, but… adopting even the human’s magic…”

Veery smiles. “Magic that benefits me,” he says. “And by extension the agell. Being able to heal like this has saved many human lives. Why shouldn’t it save ours? Simply because it’s a human invention?”

“You have a point,” Sadi admits. “Such easy healing is miraculous, assuming it comes with no drawbacks.”

Veery shrugs. “Everything has a cost, but nothing major. If I overuse magic, I could… burn out. If it gets too bad, it’s dangerous for me. But small things like this are nothing of note.”

Hoarvug narrows his eyes at Veery, frowning intensely. “Show me this magic of yours.” He gestures to his ear. “I’ve no fear of human magics; I want to experience this for myself.”

Veery blinks. “Uh… sure.” He steps forward, fondling Horvug’s ear gently and working on mending it. The part bitten off will still leave a large, jagged hole taken out of the ear, but the surrounding flesh scars over, knitting together under Veery’s attention.

Hoarvug closes his eyes as Veery works, frowning. “It’s… warm… but I sense no twisted poison.”

“Of course not,” Veery says. “Actually, I can clear poison with this magic.”

“I still don’t trust it,” Hoarvug says, crossing his arms as he backs away once Veery is finished. He still has a number of bleeding cuts, but Veery doesn’t think he’ll be healing those. “But you and I are bonded through battle-blood, so I will tolerate it, so long as it is yours.”

Uh… wow. Veery has no idea how to respond to that. This guy that hates humans so much is surprisingly accepting. Veery can tell he’s a huge weirdo, especially given the whole… sudden prospective life partner thing… but his standards are absolutely baffling. Veery can’t read him at all.

“What?” Hoarvug says, seeing how all three of them are looking at him. “Veery proved his worth in battle. He’s a true agell, despite his time with the humans.”

A true agell, huh? Veery sees some of the looks that the surrounding agell give him, and he wonders about that. Still, if Hoarvug acknowledges him, then he’s getting somewhere.

Sadi huffs. “Perhaps you should tell your story, if you’ve the energy for it after your fight. I think understanding your tale better will help us understand… you.”

“A fine idea,” Affah says. “If no more bold cubs wish to interrupt, now is the perfect time to pick up your drum, Veery.”

Ah, right. He still needs to do that. Veery sighs. “Yes… that’s a good idea.” He thinks back to his year in Fódlan, everything he learns about the humans, all the friends, the family, and enemies he makes along the way.

How can he possibly share everything? Still, he picks up a drum, pockets himself away where the storytelling usually occurs, and begins to sing.

It is the story of him, so naturally, it is a story of fear. A fear so great that he braves humans and the unknown in a desperate, hopeless struggle to escape it. It’s a story about doubt and distrust and helplessness, of reliance on the goodwill of people he knows will kill him, of surviving in a world not meant for him.

It’s a story of learning, of curiosity, of bonding over tales and relief over honesty. Veery sings of the humans he meets in battle, of the one who makes the split-second decision to save his life with no context of who or what he is. He sings of the humans who teach him, of Sylvain, Leonie, Lysithea, Lorenz, and the professors. He sings of those who protect him, of Mercedes, Dimitri… he cannot sing of each name and specific event, but he can sing of surprise and wariness and disbelief, and of the open rage, the patient denouncement, and the eager assistance.

It’s not hard to cast himself, in his mind, back in time to Garreg Mach. In the academy grounds, in peaceful days, before everything terrible happens.

Then he is stabbed through the gut from behind, and the humans go out of their way to save him, despite his survival looking bleak. They teach him, because he cannot fight and because one human looks at him, sees potential rather than an enemy, and encourages his growth. They care for him despite having no reason to. Despite him not trusting them in the slightest.

And that is when things change. It is hard not to bond with people who save his life, even if they do ultimately plan to use him or skin him for his fur. They are unfailingly kind to him. They fight with him, they support him. When things get bad – really bad – they walk through nightmares side by side and come out the other end.

Veery sings of battle, of trust, and of family. He sings of agell history uncovered, and of the humans who help him uncover it. He sings of discovery, of dragons, of gods, and of flying.

And then he sings of betrayal. He sings of betrayal, resolve, loss, and returning home alone.

He hopes everyone is okay. He doesn’t know. He likely won’t know. He can ask, he has someone he can ask, but it may be a year or more before he does. He can’t help but sing of hopes and dreams, of Arcadia, which he and his human family dream of.

He stops, panting, and sets down his drum. Affah sits rock-still, head bowed, face obscured by long, grey hair. Sadi hugs herself, shaking her head slightly as she screws her eyes shut and sighs. A collection of other agell, who stop to hear his story, vary from disgust to anger to open weeping to resignation. Not all in his favor.

Hoarvug stands and approaches Veery. He takes Veery’s face into his huge hands, presses their foreheads together, and says, “My battle-brother. I do not understand you, but I understand that you have fought and struggled. I do not agree with you, but I know the bond forged on the battlefield that you share with those humans. I do not trust your war-brothers, but I would trust you.”

“Hoarvug…?” Veery blinks, unsure what to make of this display, or if he should even tolerate it. It’s weird, and now he’s adding the possessive to his title for Veery. The possessive, in Ancient, when referring to another cat, is affectionate, like calling a partner their boyfriend or girlfriend, or even some pet name in Common.

Hoarvug grins, not backing away in the slightest. If anything, he grips Veery’s head tighter. In his golden eyes is a manic glee that Veery doesn’t understand at all. “I hear your tale of battle, and I believe you to be the truest agell warrior I know. You have walked into the flames of Chaos and come home alive, and that…” he shakes Veery a little, “that is what a warrior does.”

#write #fanfiction #FE Fanfiction #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fe3h

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the-supernatural-rewatch-project · 2 years

Text

s1ep1 "Pilot"

welp here we go again! the first episode of my two year long supernatural rewatch project! im pressing play, let to fuckery begin.

bullet points are thoughts as i watch, paragraphs are my closing comments!

Why do I pay money for amazon prime if they are gonna show me ads before what im trying to watch???

happy John Winchester feels incorrect, like where’s the assholery.

And poor Mary, dying for no good reason except to forward the plot.

AND FUCK AZELZEL or however you spell his name. They were so happy, they were a family!!! And yeah so what Mary was from a line of hunters or whatever BUT THATS RETCON!!!

god its been six?? years since I first saw supernatural but still the image of Mary of the dealing face screaming out in pain as the flames engulf the room is so chilling.

DAMN??? Sam got a 174 on the LSAT??? Good for him, i assume all I know about the lsat is from legally blonde.

justice for Jessica honestly, such a great girlfriend and Sam was a little shit.

Okay sam being all home defence over dean creeping around in the dark is kinda cute.

Sam and Jess were just a happy couple, Jess didn’t deserve all that.

“Dad hasn’t been home in a few days” “dads on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days” two sentences that make me regret starting this rewatch project.

“not normal, Safe” YEAH YOU TELL HIM SAM!!

I try and deny it but i am a sam girl.

DEAN TWENTY SIX??? oh my god, and still that attached to daddy.

Sam and Deans upbringing was basically a cult.

“you know there’s evp on that” yeah sam, its called static.

Sam should have become a lawyer. He wouldn’t be good, but it wouldn’t be hunting.

I LOVE YOU JESS, DATE ME NOT SAM!!! I would NEVER get you killed.

Oh yeah, this episode is a woman in white.

tits out, dead a fuck, “take me home” yeah I would 100% let her kill me.

Now that I remember this is a woman in white episode, i remember the plot of it. I actually really liked this episode’s monster of the week aspect. the woman in white was a compelling victim and perpetrator, and i really felt for her.

“it’s the greatest hits of mullet rock”

“driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole”

god I hate hate HATE the fbi badges, you two are babys, infants, CHILDREN!! Yall are NOT FBI agents!!!

“Why do you have to talk to police like that??” Damon Sammy? What kinda lawyer were you tryna become??

Oh yeah they are talking about dad again, this episode feels like it rapidly swings from feeling like any monster of the week episode of supernatural OR any plot driven episode.

um holy shit…. Dean shoving Sam against the pilled. Perhaps i know why wincest was the big ship until cas was introduced. (I mean like i dont ship it, but i can see why)

Okay the car driving itself was fun.

lmao dean at the edge of the river looking like a drowned fish is hilarious.

“you smell like a toilet” I’ve been reminded that supernatural wasn’t written for teen/young adult queer women and was actually written for white dudes.

“No chick flick moments” see my previous point.

“Jerk” “bitch” I hate this.

women in white are just so good, i love them.

ahhh the introduction of dads journal. The biggest problem solver in the entire fucking series.

this poor husband, kids gone, wife gone.

Jesus fucking christ, that jump scare jumped me scarred.

this poor girl, she just wants to go home.

kill him!!! I don’t want to watch another fifteen seasons of this horseshit

“Im taking you home” cringe alert 🚨

awww he’s not dead :(

Awww the kid ghosts :,(

wow that 2005 cgi does not hold up.

“If you screwed up my car, I’ll kill you” okay isnt the car the car that John brought Sam and Dean up in? How did the car become deans? John doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to buy himself a new car when the old one will do, and he certainly isn’t the kind to give his kid his car.

JESS MY BELOVED DONT DIE

How did Sam and Jess afford this huge fucking apartment?

NOOOO SHES DEAD!!!

Well first episode done, i am not 0.00305810397% of the way done supernatural! Why have I cursed myself with this burden.

Overall I did really like this episode! I think that it does create intrigue into the storyline, while also introducing the monster of the week format. However I wish they did a better job a meshing the two together, it did feel like I was watching two separated shows that happens to smashed together. One monster of the week and one plot driven.

As for the monster of the week, I like women in white, i think they are a cool narrative function and aren’t region specific, they also aren’t indigenous folklore or spirituality significant / revered figures something that supernatural has a tendency to uh…. Lets say butcher, something that i can’t wait to deal with next episode.

For the arc’s plot I do think it does what it set out to do… introduce the plot of the show. Two brothers trying to find their father, who has gone missing. That’s really all I can say because honestly this arc was my least favorite the first time I watched supernatural I cant see that changing this time.

#the supernatural rewatch project #tsrp #s1ep1 #pilot #season 1 #supernatural analysis

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lys1 · 3 years

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Congratulations! You waited so patiently <3 This is another Asra x fem!reader for you. NSFW. 5218 words.

Playing With Potions

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The late spring morning air was warming up to be a balmy 75 degrees. You had your skirt pulled down and up, tucked in the back of the waistband, forming makeshift shorts. The shop was somewhat quiet, yet the din from the streets made its nimble way through the open windows.

You descend the ladder to the box of ingredients you were unpacking. They had come in the previous evening and Asra had promptly asked you to “organize them later”. Of course you said yes, the two of you shared this shop after all, and the work that came with it.

Asra himself was bustling behind the counter, sweeping the wooden floors free of the dust and fallen ingredients. He stops momentarily to pick up his cup of tea and take a long sip. The jasmine tea's steam billows into his face as he sighs with content pleasure.

The floorboards creak as you step down and Asra looks over at you, gaze soft. "How's the supplies look, dear?" He asks curiously, returning the cup to it’s coaster.

"Ah," you muse, counting the small containers in your hands. "Looks like we will be all set on lizard toes for a while, I think our supply captain read 1000 instead of 100." You can't help but chuckle, it couldn't be helped, at least you wouldn’t have to order more for a while.

Asra's eyes open a little wider, "oh my." He laughs, "I suppose we won’t". He sets his broom to rest against the counter and bare feet pad over to you, his deep-purple eyes examining the products.

You feel his hand settle on your waist subconsciously; a side effect of being close to one another. You breathe in lightly, smelling the sweet scent of coconut and honied biscuits wash over you. Asra's breakfast choice was apparent.

"Mm," you say, turning so the two of you were face to face. "You smell delicious."

Asra smiles, box in his hand now a little less important. "Care for a taste?" He teases, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sets his lizard toes aside and joins his other hand at your waist. You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod.

He is a mere millimeter from sealing the gap between you when the bell of the shop jingles merrily.

"Ah jeez," you huff good in good nature. "I forgot we have jobs and responsibilities."

Asra laughs at your obvious disappointment and steals a small peck. "Unfortunately, we have to eat somehow." He then turns away and walks back to the counter to greet the customer.

The man is short and has a little round face. He looks extraordinarily nervous, and this catches your attention. Yours and Asra's shop is well known in the city and the townsfolk trust their magicians. You hadn't seen anyone come in here looking so nervous, and maybe even a little embarrassed.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Asra asks charmingly, resuming his position behind the counter. Briefly you let yourself admire how nice he looks, comfortable in his shop and expertise, before turning back to the box you were supposed to be dealing with. Not, however, letting your ears miss the conversation.

"I," the man starts, already fumbling with his words. "I, well look. I need help." He finishes plainly, nervously clutching his shirt between his pudgy hands.

Asra smiles kindly, "many do." He says, tilting his head and examining his new client. "Are you here for a card reading? Need to get some answers?"

The man groans as though he is already exhausted with the conversation. "No, I already know what I need. I have the answers. I've heard about this place. The ways you can help people. I live an hour out of the market and I made this trip just to see you."

"We're flattered, for sure." Asra says calmly, you can hear slight annoyance in his tone from all the ambiguity. The visitor is none the wiser though. "To help you though," Asra continues. "I'll need to know what you need."

"Alright I need a potion," the man finally reveals. "One that will help me... with performance." His cheeks are redder than a bell pepper in the sun.

Asra raises a white eyebrow, "performance? Are you an actor?"

"No!" The man's voice came out in a strangled whisper, obviously trying to keep it down. You roll your eyes, chancing a glance over your shoulder. The shop floor wasn't that big, of course you were going to hear everything.

"No," he said again, this time a little more composed. "What I mean is... my sex life performance." The truth comes out. Your visitor wipes his forehead with a dirty rag from his pocket. "My wife and I well.. we've hit a slump," he explains. "And I've heard of potions that can help with that kind of thing. Stuff that will completely change the game." His eyes are shining now, imaging life post-performance potion.

Asra looks uncertain at best. "I see," he starts, shooting you a glance. "That.. does exists. But it takes awhile to make. And the price isn't cheap either."

You shove the last of the crow feathers into their designated drawer while listening. You have never heard of such a potion, but you were also still learning. Asra sounds a little unsure though.

"Price isn't an issue," the man sounds desperate. "I'll pay anything."

Asra sighs, he feels bad for the man wringing his hands before him, practically crying for a cure. "Alright," he finally concedes. "I'll make it, but you'll have to come back in the morning. This kind of thing takes all evening to brew."

Your customer nods vigorously, "I can wait." He says. "Tomorrow morning, yes! I'll be here!" His excitement apparent, he bows a few times while backing out of the door, tripping over his own feet.

The door closes with a sharp bang and the bell rings furiously. Asra blows air out of his mouth so that itf ruffles the curls between his eyes.

"Well," he says after a moment. "A sex performance enhancing potion was not what I was expecting to make today." He rubs his temples, eyes closed and looking thoughtful.

You grin at him from the shelf as you pick up the empty shipping box and rest it on your hip. "That's quite the name, I've never heard of a potion like that."

Asra laughs and opens his beautiful eyes to look at you. "Yes, you'll have to forgive me for not teaching you that kind of magic, it's not the.. safest." He ends uncertainly. "I don't even know how this guy found out about it. It's not talked about much amongst us magicians.. and it's certainly not a common one."

Immediately more questions than your mouth can keep up with flood your brain. "So how did you find out about it? And why isn't it safe?" You ask the two more important ones, eyes following Asra as he finds a piece of paper and quill to use.

He dips his quill in the register's ink well and starts scratching down what you presumed to be ingredients. "I've been studying magic for years, my love." He says simply, "and before you ask, no I haven't used it on myself." He looks up at you, mischief dancing in his pretty eyes. "I'd like to think my sex game is up to par." He adds innocently, licking his lips seductively when your ears tinge pink.

You brush imaginary dirt off your shirt sleeves and huff. "I suppose it's pretty good." You mumble. It almost feels like a lie to just describe it as "pretty good" but Asra doesn't need you to stroke his ego right now. You do that enough falling to pieces beneath him every night.

Asra is well aware of your attempt to keep him humble and laughs lightly. "And to answer your other question," he says, turning back to his ingredient list, "messing with ones body like this can be dangerous. You have to be very precise."

You nod as he explains, it makes sense.

Potions are always brewed in pots over a magic fire so you put yourself to work, removing a medium sized iron pot from a hook on the wall and carrying it to a fire stand. Asra is busy himself, opening various drawers and adding seemingly random ingredients to a basket he has looped over his arm. Iris petals, newt eyeball, and some shimmering gold flakes. You smile watching him, your gorgeous magician; smart and able.

In no time at all Asra has a bubbling pot of sweet smelling liquid stirring before him. You stand beside him, observing curiously.

"Why are you wearing gloves?" You ask, taking note of the large leather gloves that clad all the way up your lover's forearm.

Asra continues to stir and looks over at you, happy to hear your eagerness to learn. "I can't risk even a drop of this touching my skin. It's so strong, and will immediately absorb into anyone's skin, leaving them..." He shakes his head and trails off, amused. "That's why it has to brew so long, to burn off some of the potency."

Your mouth opens in amazement, taken aback by the idea. This is the real deal you decide, stepping back a couple inches in precaution. After watching the potion bubble for a couple more minutes you stretch and grab the watering can sitting by the floor of the door.

"I'm going to water the plants," you inform Asra, waving your hand briefly until the can is full of cool, crisp water. Gods knows there are at least three dozen inside and outside of the shop.

Asra is humming in confirmation that he heard you as you open the shop door to the plants hanging outside. You don't get very far before you're blindsided by a streak of purple darting through your legs.

Escape!

"Faust?!" You yelp, dancing around the squirming snake as she winds her way under and into the open shop. A loud, booming bark makes you jump again. This time a large hound dog is rounding the tight corner from the side street and barreling full speed towards you.

All hell breaks loose. The water can is up in the air, crashing wildly into the side of the building. You are thrown back onto the dusty floor and a mass of fur and teeth race past you, paying no mind to your yelling.

Help!

Faust is racing around the floor, narrowly avoiding the jaws of the angry dog she seemed to have aggravated. There's a large crash from inside and you cringe, hearing bottles break and wood crunch. You look back, scared at what you might find.

The shop is a disaster, papers strewn, vials broken, and potion pot toppled. Asra is groaning on the floor, obviously doing no better than the rest. You glance at him worriedly, taking quick notice of the potion he had been making spilled everywhere, even on him.

You snap your fingers and the dog's growl, who was cornering Faust by the bookshelf, turns into a whimper as you lift him up with your magic. "I'm sorry pooch," you sigh, "but we can't have you eating our friend." With a wave of your wrist the hound is out the door and down the street in an instant. The hinges creak and bell rings as the door is once again closed to outside.

Thank you!

Faust wriggles happily, red eyes glowing in relief. You guess she got up to some trouble with the local fauna. She slithers up the stairs quickly, leaving you to look around at the ruined shop.

"Ah, fuck," Asra's words cut through your thoughts like a knife. He's laying flat on the floor, chest heaving as though he just ran a marathon. Sweat glistens on his tan skin, covering him from head to toe.

You step over the broken bottles and kneel at his side. "My love?" You ask, unsure of what to do. It was obvious what had happened, it didn't take an expert. The potion that was supposed to be for your customer was now soaked into Asra's glowing skin.

Asra opens his eyes and you swallow hard. You know that look, and it nearly makes you start trembling where you sit. Lust is prevalent, clouding Asra's eyes until they're a dark amethyst color.

"You-" you start to speak but are cut off by Asra sitting up abruptly. His face is close to yours and his breath washes over your lips, hot and wanton. He looks positively desperate, just the sight of you sitting before him doing wonders.

"Please," Asra's voice comes out low and husky, he watches your chest rise and fall quickly as a result. "Can I please have you, right now."

You could almost call him asking like that soft and innocent, if it wasn't for the raw, hungry look he was giving you. His eyes were traveling everywhere across your body, leaving an invisible line that you could almost feel burning into your skin. Your lips parted and you let out a soft gasp, the power that kind of look had over you was astonishing. You shifted your legs under you subtly, feeling the result of the hot atmosphere low in your stomach.

"Tsk, tsk," you had to tease for a moment. "Closing the shop at midday for some fucking?" You reach up and cup Asra's cheek, feigning uncertainty. His skin on your fingertips burns white hot and you have to hide your amazement.

Asra's eyes narrow, he knew you too well. With a quick flick of his wrist you hear the deadbolt on the door slide into place. It's only a second later and both of his hands have found a place on either side of your hips.

"Why do you torment me?" he asks, pulling you close so your legs straddle him. "Can't you see I'm getting enough of that from this damn mistake of a potion?" His words are almost shaky, as though he can barely speak anymore. He presses his hips up to meet yours, and a soft sigh escapes his lips as he finally gets a little friction.

You dig your nails into his shoulders and gasp, the feeling of Asra so obviously in need is enough to make anyone go wild.

You can't resist grinding down lightly and Asra's eyes practically roll back at the sensation. "How can I say no to such a pretty face," you whisper, completely in love with his reaction.

That was enough for Asra and without added words he gathers you up in his strong arms and lifts you both. Your head falls back pleasurably when his lips find your neck. It only takes a few quick steps on his part to bring the two of you into the plush back room.

The purple cushions lining the cozy futon sink in gently as your back hits the mattress. The room has a slight pleasing haze as sandalwood incense burns at the table. The smell washes over your senses and a new wave of sensuality comes over the room.

Asra's hands hold you firmly as his lips continue to press lovingly into your skin. He hovers over you, one leg pressed between your legs, causing your hips to involuntarily move along his thigh.

"I need you out of these clothes," Asra groans, lips being stopped at your chest where your shirt has suddenly become a hindrance. He's already tugging at the hem, untucking the loose fabric from your waistband. You raise yourself to your elbows and help him pull the shirt over your head. At once it is thrown over Asra's shoulder and his eyes are set on your bare skin, drinking in the sight of his lover.

You smile at his admiration and lay back again, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back. You feel his hands on your stomach, traveling up to rest on your breasts. Your skin prickles with desire, flesh lighting on fire from his ministrations.

"How did I get so lucky," he breathes out, looking down at you with a look filled with love and passion. He rests the tips of his fingers on your nipples and swirls them lightly, leaving you to twist in torturous pleasure beneath his touch. "Everything about you is beautiful." Asra continues to flatter, lowering his head so his curls tickle your stomach. He licks a long line from the dip of your hip up to the valley between your breasts.

After a few moments of tasting your supple skin he moves his hands to the top of your skirt and tugs. You lift your hips in compliance and the fabric slides down your legs easily. Asra licks his lips as your body is finally fully presented to him.

"I could feast on you," he announces, voice lowered with need. "And I wouldn't go hungry in a lifetime." These words he whispers into your inner thigh, they tickle your skin softly.

You watch with bated breath as the man before you adores his lover. It's hard to keep your moans controlled as you feel his sinfully good tongue lick you in a way that can only be described as ecstasy.

Asra shifts into a more comfortable position, lying on his stomach and he brings your legs to lay comfortably over his shoulders. You shudder as you feel his hot breath flutter over your dripping slit. He doesn't waste anymore time and lowers his face to enjoy you.

Your thighs squeeze his head lightly as your body arches in response. Asra is devouring you as though you were a feast and it was the only meal he is to have in a lifetime. He grips your legs tightly to keep you from moving and covers your slit with his mouth, sucking for a moment on the tight nub at the top. He groans happily into your skin before moving down to lick your hole.

"Oh please, yes," you run your trembling hand through his hair and raise your hips up to meet his greedy mouth. He laps short, quick strokes first, stimulating you into madness.

After a moment he slows his tongue down to swirl languidly, looking up at you. You make eye contact and groan at the erotic scene of him eating you out. "That mouth of yours is too skilled for its own good," you whisper, fingers digging into his scalp, trying desperately to savor every swipe of his tongue.

Asra smiles against your folds. "I live to make you feel good, my dear." He says, pausing a moment. "You intoxicate me. Your smell, your taste. I couldn't get enough even if I had all the time in the world." He presses his lips on each one of your thighs with hot, open mouth kisses.

You blush at his words, feeling amazing under his praise. "Come here," you command softly, pulling on Asra's hair lightly to guide him back up your body. He kisses every inch of skin he passes before finally reaching your lips.

"Mm," he hums, taking your face in his hands. "But these lips, are like the finest honey in Vesuvia." He lifts your head so your mouths meet. It's a hot and feverish kiss, full of staggering amounts of love.

You press your body into his and relish in the feeling of kissing Asra. Your mouths are opened to one another and your tongues meet in fiery unison. While you enjoy the kiss you allow your hands to roam. Your fingers find his shirt buttons and you start to undo them as best you can, only a little distracted. It takes just a minute and you sigh happily into his mouth when you finally remove the annoying clothing.

You part a moment to admire the divinity of his body; prostrated before you. He was calling himself the lucky one, but you could probably make a pretty good argument for it being the other way around. He looked absolutely glorious in the hazy glow of the room.

As you reach for the waistband of his pants and rest your fingers playfully on the skin above it Asra breaks out in goosebumps at the fluttering feel of your touch.

"Ah," he breaths out, raising himself to his knees and closing his eyes. Clearly, he's enjoying the attention finally being on him.

"You are the one with the potion affecting them." You say, drawing a line from one hip to another. "It'd almost be criminal to ignore you for any longer." Your eyes fall to the bulge straining under Asra's pants, just begging to be free. A smile plays across your lips as his breaths quickens significantly.

"I.. wouldn't complain." He finally manages to say in a strained tone.

You smile, maybe a little too satisfied, and hook your fingers under the band. "I know." You chuckle, pulling. The trousers catch a moment on Asra's hardened length before slipping down to his knees. You take time to admire the sight before you, licking your lips. Asra is panting slightly, looking down at you lustfully as your eyes graze over him.

He grabs your head on either side and looks into your eyes. "Please," is all he can croak out.

You swallow thickly and you feel yourself dampen even more at his begging words. “I’d like nothing more" you say; need dripping heavily from your words. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his leaking slit lightly. Asra's body shivers with pleasure when your soft lips meet his aching shaft.

You take a breath before closing your mouth around his tip. Your cheeks hollow and you suck in deeply, enjoying the small sounds of pleasure emitting from Asra's lips. He groans even deeper as you finally swallow down his whole length, tip sliding down the back of your throat.

"Ah fuck, baby," he stutters through gritted teeth, fingers threading through your hair. He thrusts into your mouth without hesitation, reveling in the way you feel around him. The pace is fast and vicious, leaving no time for extra room for breathing.

You choke back your gasps and feel the involuntary tears prick at the corners or your eyes. Your hands fall to your sides as you let Asra use your mouth how he pleased. Licentious noises ring around the room as he sinks his member into your mouth relentlessly, moaning at each stroke and the salacious feelings that come over him.

His grip tightens in your hair as he pounds into your face. You open your mouth as widely as you can and take him in, ignoring the slight pain of labored breathing. The feeling of being used so mercilessly is intoxicating, and you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure that overtakes you.

With a loud pop he pulls out of your drooling mouth, leaving you to be the one groaning in disappointment.

"I'm sorry love," he huffs dazedly, need heavy on his features. "But if I don't stop this now I'm cumming in your mouth."

"That doesn't sound so bad," you complain, sticking your tongue out so Asra can view how much you want it. His eyes darken considerably and he looks ready to break.

He takes a breath in sharply, steadying himself before holding your face gently in his hand. "As much as I want you fuck your face, that pussy of yours I know is dripping for me and I have to comply." He chuckles, running his thumb along your lip.

You whimper at his words, practically climaxing at the suggestion. You meet his eyes in a needy manner and nod. "Oh, Asra," you start, already seeing excitement flit across his face at the mention of his name. "I want you more than I can even describe to you."

To this Asra inhales sharply, thumb still hooked in your mouth. "Tell me how you want me," he says, barely able to contain his own desire.

"I want you to fuck me from behind," you begin, knowing exactly how to please his ears. "I'm going to cry and moan, and beg you for relief but you will know better." His eyes widen in ecstasy but you continue anyway. "I want you to give everything you can to me, without holding back."

Asra seems to snap right in front of you. His features immediately seem to plead for consolation. "You'll get what you ask for." He growls, fingers tightening in your mouth. You lick his thumb seductively and the action throws him over the edge.

Asra's hands fly to your waist and hold you firmly, you're flipped over; ass to the heavens greeting him. He swallows at the sight and digs both palms into the flesh, enjoying the feeling immensely. "So needy and ready for me," he groans, finger finding your entrance and slipping in easily. You gulp at the warmth of having fingers enter you. Asra is unrelenting and curls them cruelly against your walls.

"Just fuck me already!" You cry, unable to hide your desires anymore. You hear Asra laugh behind you, yet despite this you know he is dying to sink himself into you.

"Alright, alright." He concedes, taking your hips in his hands. "If you insist."

You feel his tip slide against your slit and shudder, craving the feeling of him inside you. It doesn't take more than a moment before you feel him start to enter you. You lay your head down, turning your face so you can watch Asra take you from behind.

His lips are parted in a silent moan as he relishes in the feeling of your walls around him. You sigh softly as he fully sheaths himself in you, a small tremor passing over your body from the pleasure. One moment, two moments pass as you both bask in the feeling of being connected.

"Give me your hands," he commands, slowly sliding in and out of you, giving no care to his agonizingly slow pace. Soft gasps are falling from your lips as you try to register his request.

Carefully, you cross your arms behind your back. It's no use to keep the blush at bay as you take in the dirty scene. Your face is pressed to the pillows, unable to move much as Asra takes your wrists and pins them to your back. Your ass is raised in the air to meet his rhythmic thrusting.

Asra grips one of your thighs with a free hand and quickens the pace a little. Your eyes shut tightly as your body responds. You can feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each snap of his hips. It's unrelenting and you have to catch yourself from begging for more.

You feel the fingers around your wrist tighten a bit as Asra's breathing speeds up behind you. You know that he's set on giving you as much painfully slow torture as he can manage himself, but you also know that potion is working against him. There's nothing he wants more than to let go and pound you into the mattress.

"Baby," you choke out, words bouncing along with your bodies. "I know you want to fuck me so good right now." Your voice is deep with seduction. "Please just fill me up like I know you want to." You finish your plea, watching his face with satisfaction. His eyes are darkened with desire. He takes just a few more strokes before slowly to a stop inside you.

"You asked for it," he warns. He only takes a moment to let go of your wrists and flips your body so you're facing him. He cages you in on either side and licks his lips as he stares into your eyes. His hungry mouth meets yours in a kiss full of fire. You can melt into it for only a second before you feel him grab your hips and pull you flush against him; Your cries drowned by his lips as he sets an erratic pace, skin meeting with loud slaps.

"Fucking hell," he groans, still kissing you between words. "You feel like heaven on earth. You're so hot, and I can feel your insides squeezing me." He explains, hot breath falling over your face. Your cheeks burn at his descriptions.

You loop your arms around his neck and press your chest into his. Your skin meets, shining with sweat and burning from love. Asra presses back, savoring the feeling of your nipples brushing against his.

You start to feel that familiar blossom of unreleased pleasure pool in your lower stomach. Asra's shaft is hitting you just right, sending jolts of satisfaction right to your core.

"Oh-" you stop and whine pleasantly when he shifts angles. "Fuck. Please yes, don't stop!" Your arms drop and nails dip into his biceps and you grit your teeth from the hot delight searing through your body.

"I couldn't even If i wanted to," Asra answers, words strained as his grasp on himself starts to crumble. His breath is leaving his lips in short pants now and you can almost see the resolve to hold on slip away before your eyes.

He falls into you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and thrusts into you with all of the strength he can muster. You bury your face in his neck and take hold of his hair. You can feel Asra's body shuddering to not let go.

You bring your lips to his ear and bite his lobe. "Won't you come for me sweetheart? Please empty yourself in me." You whisper.

Asra takes in a sharp breath and you hear him choke at your words. They were enough to push him over the edge and he rams into you with a low, strangled cry.

Your head falls back and your mouth opens in a silent scream as Asra lets himself go in you. Your legs shake violently of their own accord as you feel your orgasm wash over you, leaving your body in euphoric fire.

Asra's lips immediately find yours as you ride out your orgasms together. You kiss him passionately, all of your senses in overdrive. His kisses are soft, and sweet, a clear declaration of his love. Happiness rushes in like a flood as you enjoy the afterglow. After a minute Asra removes himself from you and joins you in laying down, sides still heaving from the activities.

"My dear, how I love you." He says with a smile, running his fingers in slow, soft circles on your stomach.

You turn on your side and look into his eyes. He looked content, and his cheeks were dimpled from his growing grin.

"I love you too," you return, hand falling into his. His skin was still warm. The two of you lay there for a while, out of breath and simply enjoying the presence of one another.

Eventually, Asra sits up and looks down at you with humor in his eyes. "Well, I think I can tell our buyer that we did an extensive review of his product and it does, in fact, work."

Your face breaks into a smile and you laugh at Asra's words. "Oh goodie, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear all about it."

#the arcana game #asra alnazar #the arcana #asra lemon #asra smut #asra x reader #asra x female reader #writing #fanfic #arcana smut #arcana #arcana fanfic #asra fanfic

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