#first finish the show then indulge in fandom

[4humankind]

Me: *sits through 56 episodes of pure agony because I really really need Chloe to realize everything has always been the truth, thinking about stopping because I can't take it in the third season when it somewhat slows down especially after what felt like two filler episodes at the end AFTER IT FINALLY GOT REVEALED and it goes on as if it never happened*

*Episode 26 of Season 3 comes up*

Me, listening suspiciously: "is that... IS THAT NEIL GAIMAN SPEAKING?!"

[sunnnnyy]

looking back

2022 represented by my posted fics:

47 fics in 9 fandoms

56,854 words

3 crossovers with 1 crossover pairing

20 canon divergent fics

31 Whumptober fics

Character with the most fics: BBC Merlin’s Percival (21 fics)

Non-Merlin character with the most fics: Jaskier (5 fics)

Check them out on Ao3

First fic of the year: Burn Butcher Burn (The Witcher Netflix, s2 finale canon divergence, T, 2,435)

Last (and longest) fic of the year: What I’m looking for (Merlin BBC, Mordredpercy, Modern AU, Omegaverse, E, 4,711)

Shortest fic of the year: The I Thought I'd Never See You Again Hug (The Magicians, Queliot, s4 finale canon divergence, G, 100)

Other fics I’m especially proud of:

The Saint of Never Getting It Right (Merlin BBC, Mordredpercy, BDSM AU, E, 2,299)

Midnight Snack (Merlin BBC, Critical Role, Vaxpercy, Crossover, E, 3,689)

Sweet thing (The Penumbra Podcast, Canon compliant, M, 426)

Wake up all the creatures deep in me (Jennifer’s Body, Jennifer/Needy, Canon divergence, Omegaverse, E, 1,490)

Pieces of the man he used to be (Merlin BBC, Mordredpercy, Omegaverse, M, 1,160)

Please put down your hands (Hannibal NBC, Hannigram, Mansfield Park AU, Omegaverse, T, 3,003)

What my heart just yearns to say (Merlin BBC, Gaius/Uther, s2 canon divergence, G, 528)

If you check any of them out, let me know what you think!

[impactedfates]

heyy 😁 so um like I was hoping you could do like a combination of hsr men and genshin men, the reader is their lover who sits on their lap just to pass the time (the men are up to u pls pls include wriothesley and neuvillette if u can 😳😍 tys 💖)

★ A/N: Yep, I don't at all mind doing combinations of both fandoms

☆ Genre/Trope: Romantic

★ Format: Mini Scenarios (Characters Included (Separate): Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Zhongli, Jing Yuan and Blade)

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Wrio + Neuvi might be OOC // Short-ish // Reader is shorter then characters included // Reader is NOT the traveler

The first time you do it, Wriothesley is surprised. Don't get him wrong he doesn't mind having you this close he just didn't expect it is all. He at first isn't too sure what to do in this situation, he still has work to do but you're there on his lap, is he meant to drop his work and give you attention and that was your way of telling him? Are you doing this just because and he can still work??

When he does finally get used to it, I see him continuing with his work, using one hand to write, sign and pick up/put down papers while the other hand is wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he calmly scribbles down whatever's he's meant to.

If you're really desperate for attention though and aren't just sitting on his lap just because he might indulge and pepper your face with kisses, however this is only if he doesn't have too much important work to do, if he does he'll just chuckle and tell you to be a bit more patient.

Neuvillette didn't understand the concept of it at all when you first did it. Sure he knew humans had different ways of showing their love or just different things they do with their partner in general but he didn't expect one of things you like doing is sitting on his lap.

He's often working so he likely marks this as a way for you to be closer to him even in silence, and in a way it motivates him to finish a bit quickly so he can give you the attention you deserve.

Overall, although he may not fully understand what you're doing just knows this seems to be something you enjoy doing with him, and if it makes you happy then he's happy. Just as long as you wait until he's finished work before giving you any attention you may want.

Zhongli also is still learning more about humans but perhaps is more knowledgeable than Neuvillete is. He doesn't say anything when you do it for the first time however he will question you if you continue to do it, wanting to know why you seem to find enjoyment from merely situating yourself on his lap.

When you see you just like it because it passes the time or any other reason, he'll simply chuckle. If you were to ask if he's annoyed by it he'll shake his head no, he simply wanted to see why you enjoyed it so much, after that he'll invite you to sit on his lap a lot more, however more so in private.

Maybe if he's reading a book and sees you coming into the room, he'll gesture you to come towards him and pat his lap with a smile, if you enjoy it so much he'll indulge for as long as you like.

Jing Yuan practically INVITES you to sit on his lap once you did it the first time. Once he knows you like spending your time on it then anytime you're around and he's sitting, he'll tug you over just to take a seat.

He loves having you close to him, his work can wait and he can handle Fu Xuans scolding for the nth time that day, you're way more important to him then any work he has due...however he does eventually need to get it done, but he'll happily do it with you still on his lap if you don't want to get off.

HOWEVER, this will come at a price. Yes, he himself also enjoys having you in his lap BUT he'll also like using YOUR lap as a pillow. So if you want to continue using his lap as a seat, be prepared to have your lap being used as a pillow.

I feel like Blade full on pushes you off the first time you do it. Don't get him wrong, he does feel bad for probably hurting you but he's not much of a touchy guy. Especially if you two were still fresh into the relationship.

He'd much prefer you ask beforehand. Most of the time he'll say no as I see him as someone who needs something to do the majority of the day and he cannot allow himself to relax.

However once he gets more comfortable into the relationship then he might finally agree to let yourself rest on his lap. It might be awkward for the both of you as Blade isn't making any attempts to hold you, his hands at his side but the more comfortable he gets the more relaxed he lets himself become and soon enough Kafka or Silverwolf may find him holding you close.

Hopefully this isn't too messy!! This has been sitting in my drafts as I struggle to find the time to continue writing it sorgipget.

The next post should be a Christmas Special of sorts :> (Hopefully)

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde(here!), Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): The relationship is kinda toxic because it's Idia and I have to be realistic - but it gets better as you read. Just know that there are themes of miscommunication, self-sabotage, self-neglect, and insecurity in both Idia and the MC. I gave him some character growth at least and some maturation to the character. Note: All Ignihyde has is Idia so I gave his piece some extra love(super long. Like, this isn't even considered a headcannon set anymore. I really went overboard, I'm so sorry). Not proofread for grammar since I'm a bit lazy right now. Also, I haven't finished his chapter in game because I'm too weak (seriously wtf is up with these fights). I know the plot mostly but forgive me if there's an inaccuracy in a reference

Idia had it made during his youth - and deep down he knows it despite all his complaining. He knows that he won the introvert lottery. For three years he was able to live in a reclusive dorm room with no expectations beyond showing up to class (via a tablet of all things) and doing his work. Sure, he had to return home at some point and deal with that hot mess...but it was a displaced problem. One to be dealt with whenever. As a full-time 'student' he had junk food readily available, his brother down the hall, all the games and tech he needed, and somehow managed to land himself a loving partner despite his quirks.

The Ramshackle prefect - someone he initially wanted nothing to do with. Chaos seemed to follow their every move and Idia wanted no part of it. He never expected to come within a twenty-foot radius of them without force.

For the record, force indeed was used. Unfortunately they had a nasty habit of being nosy. Very 'main character complex' of them, if you ask him.

Yet it worked in his favor. Their stubbornness and intrusive ways wormed a place in his stone-cold heart. It fueled his ego much to everyone's chagrin. Out of everyone - princes, busy bodies, future doctors and the literal fish mafia - you picked him. The noob cursed to lose all his 50/50s and rot in bluelight. Idia seriously questions your tastes, but hey! He beat the normies and that's all he cares about.

Well, at least that's how he phrases it. Underneath that god-tier ego is an inferiority complex that he tries to keep down for your benefit. Something about your mood dipping by 20% when he talks trash? He'd need Ortho to run another test on that. Just to be safe.

Unfortunately, he still can't reign it in all the way. Victories can be temporary and who's he to say that your relationship isn't a one-shot story? Nothing worthwhile is ever that simple. Good games always get sequels...so the question lingers, will he still be a main character in yours?

When Idia graduates, he fully expects for you to walk out of his life. He returns to S.T.Y.X and leaves NRC to fulfill his role back home. You have no reason to care about him when he's no longer nearby. Life isn't like an isekai manga. You won't wait for him - no, you'll get a taste for how life is without him and indulge. Slowly you'll stop texting him, calling him, playing games with him - well, he'll do it first! He refuses to be the second male lead that gets dumped when you finally find your prince. That's for chumps.

He'd rather you just up and leave this world! At least then he wouldn't be in this pitiful situation...but he's seen that crow's shitty work ethic. You're stuck.

Idia's scared to say the least. One could say that his self sabotage was in action before your relationship even began. Old habits die hard, and no one could stop his spiral. Not even Ortho. Idia left his little brother behind as well. The boy sent him off with a smile, promising to take good care of you in his big brother's stead. After all, you both were in the same year.

It's not surprising that he reverts to his old ways. A hard battle is even more difficult to win when you don't have the motivation to fight it in the first place. Idia loses his drive...and in turn his already negative outlook grows worse.

Needless to say, Idia ... neglects you.

Your relationship has always been more of an 80:20 than a 50:50 - with him taking more than he ever gave. You always set aside time and made sure he was comfortable. You respected his anxieties and dealt with his temper on more than one occasion. His jealousy. You indulged his hobbies, always tried to include him in on activities with your friends (even though he rarely ever accepted), wore your heart on your sleeve and always took the lead. You were always too good to be true.

Two years. Two years with him at S.T.Y.X and you at NRC. Not a day passed where you did not text him or call. Not a week passed where you did not video-chat or play a game with him. You made time. You checked in. Told him stories about your life an friends. Ortho often would send him recordings and clips as well. During vacations you'd make plans to see him and always invited him to come to campus for events. Even though he never accepted, you still always offered. Throughout it all he kept you at a distance, yet unable to fully let you go at the same time. He needed you to do it. He needed his inner thoughts to shut up and to have someone else to blame.

You. You. You. When would you stop? Why weren't you tired of him yet? On a good day he can be frustrating, so how were you not mad when he was physically trying to make you hate him? Were you waiting until graduation to drop the bomb on him that you'd leave for good? On another's arm or back to your world?

Imagine his surprise when neither happened. On the dawn after Ortho's graduation ceremony, Idia came out of his cave to greet him at the S.T.Y.X entrance. He would no longer be as lonely, and perhaps without Ortho around, you'd finally put distance between yourself and the Shroud family. All would be as it should.

He did not expect to see you at the gate as well. Ortho flew up to him with a bright grin and twirl in the air - babbling on and on about how he arranged for you to come work as a research assistant in the lab. After all, you had an extensive knowledge of blot as well as field experience. It was a win-win situation for the company and your relationship! You could now be a happy family! Isn't that just amazing?

"It was extremally difficult to keep this a surprise!...Brother?" Ortho halts mid-rant, his receptors going haywire, "Brother, your heartrate has increased and your temperature is dropping below stable levels. You must regulate your breathing pattern!"

White noise rang like television static in Idia's eardrum. He watched you thank one of the guards while handing off your suitcase. His pulse increased and mind went under water. How long had it been since you were together longterm? You looked different. More mature. Meanwhile he was still the same - physically and emotionally. Still the pasty shut-in with dark eyebags and energy drinks running through his veins instead of blood. He wasn't used to seeing you in person. How should he react? Should he hug you? Do you want him to? That's weird. He hasn't held you in a while - yeah, it would be creepy. Does he even deserve to? What made you want to work here anyways?! You could have gone anywhere. ANYWHERE. - Shit. You're looking this way. What should he do?! aHH! You're walking over!

He does what he knows best. Shuts down. You receive a disgraceful greeting. No affection. Not even a smile.

Idia's brow furrows at your approach and he buries his hands deep into the pockets of his lab-coat. When you lean in to kiss his cheek, he catches you by the forearms and holds you in place. "Since when were you going to work here? You do remember what S.T.Y.X is in charge of, right? Once you're in, there's no going back. Are you a masochist or something?" Ah. There goes the heartfelt reunion. Being home did bring out a more harsh and cut-throat side of him after all.

Despite his poor treatment, you don't react upset. Now the relationship has now become something of a 90 : 10. He knows you have no reason to come here other than for Ortho and himself. You really are an Otome protagonist, jeez. Willing to do all that for him? Giving up your future and friends just to be at his side...dammit. Don't give him hopes! Don't undo all the work he's put in to survive without you! Stop welcoming misfortune for his sake! You're stupid. Stupidstupidstupid .... man he loves that stupidity. Gods he missed it.

Shit. Not even an hour in and he's reverting.

You don't realize it but you're heading straight for a bad ending. He does though. He's read the guides and played more visual novels than he can count. As a pro, he needs to steer you off this villainy ending and towards the true route.

After all ... what was that one saying? Heroes will sacrifice you for the world, while Villans will sacrifice the world for you? He heard it from some normie bookworm...but it seems fitting right now.

Idia's no hero. He'll destroy his world if it means you get to be happy. Not that he had much of one to begin with. You...gave him a life beyond fiction while all he's offered is a curse. Literally and figuratively. Its time he returned what he so greedily stole. He'll make you move on through force.

The months are slow and difficult. Despite being nearby, Idia only ever seeks you out for work-related reasons. Even then he is very cold and dismissive . He also does not turn you away when you take the initiative. Just like old times, you linger around his room and prod him for attention. He wants you to leave, but also doesn't want to be cruel. So, he maintains this impassive position and lets you do whatever you please. Yet the situation is scarily similar to how you both were at NRC. Except instead of using his past as an excuse, he now uses your work dynamic to enable his noncommittal ways.

There really is only so much one person can take. After Idia left NRC, you pinned his switch in behavior on the lifestyle change and distance separating you both. You knew Idia would be someone you had to work hard for when you started to date, and so the situation was one you viewed as an obstacle to overcome. The solution was simple - you would go to S.T.Y.X and prove to him that you were willing to make it work. Without the physical distance, you hoped that he would let you in again. That you wouldn't have to hear reassurances from his brother anymore, and instead hear his feelings from his own mouth instead. Then you both could work out the details together in time. Seeing him reject you at first was discouraging, but you did not let it rest there. Perhaps he needed time and to get used to your presence in his home. After all, these were new waters. You would be patient. You would prove yourself capable.

Life becomes a time capsule. As the days went by, a bitter feeling grew in your stomach. Why wouldn't he laugh? Why wouldn't he look in your eyes anymore? Why is he retreating even further? What were you doing wrong? How could you fix it? Is it you? Your performance in the lab is outstanding according to your supervisors, and your work friends seem to find you agreeable enough. Can't he see that you've adjusted well and are happy here? There's nothing to worry about. How else can you prove yourself?

These thoughts plague your mind to an extend that Ortho felt the need to preform psychiatric evaluation. You dismissed his concerns with a long list of things about your new home that make you happy - including him. It pacifies his panic and somehow mitigates your own as well.

Until one fateful day, when you decided to take your lunch early and overheard a conversation between two senior S.T.Y.X employees

"Isn't the boss' partner kind of pitiful?" One technician spoke in a hush whisper, taking a bite from her salad, "He doesn't give them the time of day. I can't believe they've stuck around this long. Screw the job, I would have been out after the first week," "Shhh! Quit gossiping, it's bad. Especially about the one who pays our bills," The other scolds. "I know....but isn't it just sad. They're clearly being taken advantage of. I can't help but feel sorry" "It's not just you...to tell the truth, I had no clue Director Idia had a partner up until recently. If anything, I thought he disliked Assistant MC and kept them around for Director Ortho's sake. Imagine my shock..." They both snicker at the notion. "Yeah. I give them a few more months...maybe a year. Despite being smart in the lab, they clearly can't read the room:

It was the last straw. Like ice water being dunked over your head after a hot shower. The lunch pale in your grasp suddenly felt like it weighed ten times heavier, and a cold sweat dripped down your back. They were right. He didn't want you here. It was time to move on or else you'll just be living out an endless loop. Nothing has changed since your youth aside from the location. No matter how long you wait, no matter how much effort and time you offer ... the relationship is doomed to fail. You gave him everything...and it was time to stop waiting. To stop expecting and hoping. Time to accept reality.

Your lunch goes discarded in a nearby bin and your shift abandoned. You would not work another second for S.T.Y.X despite the facility not being the source of your anguish. Your shoes clack loudly against the tile flooring as you speed-walk to Idia's office, where he was lazily reviewing data on a recent experiment. His phone set off to the side with some automated gatcha daily playing.

You use your 'special' pass (curtesy of ortho) to get in. The metal door swings out as you march inside and turn off his screen without asking.

"H-h'-hey! What are you-" He shrieks and turns in his chair. "We need to talk" "Can't it wait until later? I'm busy working, if you can't tell" "No" Your tone is demanding. Definite. You all but yank the badge from around your neck and drop it in his lap. In that motion, he knew. Your eyes scrunch tight and teeth grind together. He was prepared for this. For you to lash out and yell at him for your suffering. Make him the bad guy in your story and finally beat the game for good. Not for you to deflate. Not for the glassy, disappointed stain on your eyes. Or the shallow breaths as you calm yourself - not letting your emotions frighten him like a spooked cat. "I'm quitting," "S.T.Y.X? You know you can't just quit. There's a process," He refutes, lazily pushing his chair back with an anxious fidget. "Not just S.T.Y.X...I'm quitting us. I can't do this anymore," "Oh. Alright. Let me get the paperwork," "Alright?" You whisper, gaping at him "...just alright? That's all you have to say to me? Not even 'why' ?" He pauses typing on a holographic keyboard, cocking an eyebrow at the question. "What? You want me to beg you to stay or something like that? We're not in an anime," His words die out at the end, and had it not been for your disbelief you would have caught the note of sadness in them, "you want to go? Then go. I warned you about this place" "No...you warned me about the facility. It's not the facility I have a problem with. I actually like it here" "So it's me then, huh? I warned you about that too," He grumbles and continues to type, "I'm not whatever it is that you saw in me. It's your fault for sticking it out this long. I knew this was how it would end from the start" A silence follows aside from the occasional noise from his computer. That's it. The nail in the coffin. You finally realized the truth. He was no good for you. He couldn't be 'fixed'. With an approving chime, he finally has all the departure paperwork pulled up for you to sign. "Alright. Sign these and I'll get you an escort," He holds out a tablet in pen without looking from his computer. You don't take it. "Hello? I said - " he turns to face you, irritated "....here" Silent tears stream down your cheeks and pool at the tip of your chin, dripping to the tile below. Wide eyes lock in his general direction. Your hands tremble slightly at your sides, as if your mind was thousands of miles away. His heart breaks. "You never even gave us a chance, did you?" He says nothing. "It wasn't about 'making it work' for you. It was always a matter of 'how long'. You've been waiting for me to leave you, all this time?" It wasn't a question. "All this time, I've been trying to prove myself. I've been thinking that I did something wrong...that I needed to be better" the word stings your tongue and seems to strike him, " but I was never even close to enough" we were never enough

With languid movements, you take the pen from him and sign the papers. You would not hide your sadness. Your grief. Your pain for a relationship that was never actually one. For a battle that only had one party fighting.

He lets you go, the metal door swinging shut and rattling him to his core. Idia's hands shake as he tries to return to his work. They tremble over the holographic keyboard, making his blue nails look like moving neon streaks in the air.

He had always thought you ere just being kind. That your self-sacrificing nature was natural, and that someone else was more deserving of it. He failed to consider the possibility that all the things you did...you did for him alone. You did out of the same anxieties and fears he felt.

In a way, you both were at fault. He led himself down a self-fulfilling prophecy - letting his anxieties and what-ifs become reality. And you? You thought everything could be fixed with time. With sacrifice. That eventually he would grow. You both were plants, one overwatered and the other left parched in the sun.

He did get one thing right. This was defiantly a bad end. Just not in the way he originally believed...

Somehow, life becomes worse than before you arrived at S.T.Y.X. At least when you were around, people did see him more out of his office or room. Seeing him revert to his previous ways without so much as an inkling of sadness for losing you....yeah, it did not look good. Worse than people not even knowing you were his partner at first. After your departure, rumors began to spread that you had finally snapped. The pity felt for you morphed into judgement towards his character. Others saw him as a heartless recluse, and the pity was extended to Ortho of all things. If Idia could toss out a loyal partner of years, what about the little robot? Perhaps despite all the gossip, the others at S.T.Y.X did not fully believe that he would let you leave so easily. That he wasn't as detached as the Shroud name dictates.

Little do they know that he's become a shadow of his former self. He can't even act self-depreciative. Pleasantries don't hit like they used to. Having you at a distance...well, was still considered as being with you. Now that you're never coming back, it's harder. Everything reminds him of you. Your favorite snacks are still stocked in the cafeteria, and there are blankets in his room that still have your scent. Occasionally a file will pop up with your work in it while he's doing reviews...and then there's Ortho. When you left, he was crushed. He pestered Idia for days - the security cameras giving him full knowledge of what happened. Yet no matter what the robot said about the situation, Idia didn't want to hear it. Eventually he took away Ortho's access data to his personal spaces.

That didn't stop the bot from talking through the door and spamming his brother's inboxes. Despite cutting off contact with his big brother, you still spoke to Ortho regularly. He refused to let his big brother lose all connection to you, and updated him on your well-being. Regardless of what Idia said, hearing about you made a difference. At first it increases his anxiety and drops his mood...but every time, like a scheduled delay, his serotonin levels will spike. Be it from a clip of your voice, a picture, or even just the mention of your name.

"Brother! I just finished a call with MC. Today they decided to adopt a cat! Would you like to see a picture?" His computer beeps with an incoming missive. Idia clicks it, and the screen displays a photo of you with a small white kitten in your arms. "They've decided to name it Grimm Jr. From what I heard, the predecessor was not pleased to be 'replaced,' as he calls it" Ortho laughs from the other side of the door, but Idia is too focused on the image on his screen. The curve in your smile and the way you gently cradle the kitten. You seem...happy. Much better than how he is doing. He fails to hear the door beep, granting access, neither the bot fly up next to him to look at the picture. "Big brother, why don't you apologize to MC? They would listen," Idia startles, clutching his chest as his hair flairs cherry red for a brief moment. He swivels in his chair and closes the image quickly. "I'm not apologizing for nothing. It's not like I miss them or anything. My life's great without having a normie relationship to manage" "Your body language suggests that you are lying" Ortho states, his eyes squinting cheekily. Idia hunches over, glaring at his keyboard and fiddling with his sleeves, "It's not like they'd want to see me anyways. I blew it. Only an idiot would forgive what I did," "That's not true! MC loves you!" Idia glares at him from the corner of his eye, "Yeah? They look pretty happy without me. They were miserable here" "Because you purposefully made them miserable! You are very smart brother, but even I understand emotions better than you and I am an artificial lifeform!" "Then what should I do, Ortho? Go beg them to take me back like some cringe sitcom?!" "Yes!" Idia blanches at the thought, but doesn't entirely dismiss it. Ortho glares holes into his head, causing Idia to shrink into his chair. "You are always afraid, brother. You lost them to your fears once...do you want to regret that? Are you really satisfied with pictures and stories? Why deny yourself wonderful things! We are not trapped anymore!"

Ortho leaves him with one piece of information - an apartment address. He sends it to all of Idia's emails and even somehow makes it the background of his tablet. He can't change it or take it off.

He stares at it long and hard. Searches the place up and even uses virtual reality to scope out the building. While perhaps a bit creepy...he hacks the security cameras and watches feed of you coming and going over the past moths. Some days you look perfectly well, and others you look worse for wear. If he went...would you even want to see him? Would you let him in? Kick him out? Is he willing to even try? What if you already moved on...no, Ortho wouldn't set him up for that if he knew you were happy with someone else.

Idia leaves S.T.Y.X for the first time in months. His request for leave shocks other employees. Yet he's gone the moment it's approved, afraid that he'll lose his edge if he thinks too long on it.

He finds himself at the door of a middle-class apartment in the Kingdom of Roses. Second floor, third door to the left, just like he memorized. He knows its yours from the ribbons tied on the doorknob, themed after one of your favorite animes. One he introduced to you...

In his hands is a small box of candies - a peace offering, just in case you want to kill him on sight.

His boney knuckles wrap around the doorknocker and thwack it three times. Sweat pools in his palms and he jolts away. The seconds like hours as his painted nails dig crescents into his palms. The door opens. "Hi, how can I -" You pause mid-sentence, your mouth going dry. Grimm Jr. snuggled in one of your arms while the other holds the door open, "I-idia?" "T-that's my name," He grimaces, looking anywhere but at you. "What are you doing here?" His tongue feels heavy and the tips of his hair fade to a pale orange. He studders and fumbles with the box of candies, holding them out to you with a grimace. "I wanted to see you...urk. I hope that's not weird! Can ... I come in?" You eye the box in thought, before reaching out to take it and opening the door further. It was a start.

You hear him out - through the stuttering and the self-depreciative comments that he hastily retracts. This isn't just about him. It's about you and everything else in-between. Shockingly enough, you agree to give him a second chance. It wasn't entirely his fault after all ... and you did still love him. Although now there are ground rules. You would not be returning to S.T.Y.X. You've finally created a stable home for yourself and have a life in this new city. You have a career, friends, and a life that doesn't include him. You need the individuality. You would no longer try to morph yourself for him or be placid. If he wanted to spend time with you, he would have to leave S.T.Y.X and come stay at your apartment. You would no longer be the one always reaching out, he would have to start showing initiative and making time for you. You would see how things progress from that point. He was not a child, and you would not beg for basic needs to be met anymore. Words would not be enough, you need actions. It was time for 50 : 50.

Weirdly enough, he agrees to all your rules without a single complaint. Not a normie comment or slang filled statement leaves his lips. He's still that nerdy dork you fell in love with at heart, but these 'normie' things? Well, Idia's accepted that he wants those things. As much as it is difficult for him to admit, they only grossed him out so much before because he always believed they were unattainable

He's true to his word. He calls you every day, first thing when he wakes up (in the late afternoon. He still is a hermit at heart). At first it made him anxious, and he'd hover over the contact for fifteen minutes before dialing. Yet it soon became easy, with his heart only beating fast from happiness. He takes the weekends off and comes to spend them at your apartments. Sometimes he brings Ortho and it becomes a sleepover with games - and at some point you start inviting your other heartslabyul friends from back in the day too. Eventually you do come around the compound again. It's awkward to say the least, considering how you left. Yet at the same time, it's a breath of fresh air. The others are shocked to see him out of his office, and he eats IN THE CAFETERIA. Woah. He calls you by your name and not 'assistant' when in public. Homie scares some people. That's what he does. He gives you a special watch for your anniversary. It's paired with on he has and solar powered, so you can contact him at any time. As a natural born worry-wart, he can't help but worry for your safety. Since watching the appartment CCTV is 'creepy,' he just asks that you wear the watch if you're going out anywhere. It won't die and with the click of a button he'll be alerted. In exchange, you can use it to contact him whenever you want. He'll always get back instantly since it might be an emergency. The watch is also directly linked to Ortho's system, so you can contact him as well. Who needs Cortana when you have Ortho?

For the first time, Idia feels secure in a relationship. He can't count Ortho since the boy is technically his creation. Ortho would always be there...and now? Idia's confident you will too.

Does that mean you should get married? Isn't that the next step in all this?

Well....shit (pleasant connotation)

He never would have tinkered with this idea before considering his 'family'. Who the hell in their right mind would marry a Shroud? A fool. Are you a fool? Maybe.

It's late evening on a Sunday night when you're both walking home together after hitting up a local diner for hearty eats. Wow. Look at him. On a date. So weird...pshh.

Idia walks at your side, forcing his pace to match yours. Not everyone is graced with his long stickman legs. His hands are buried deep in his hoodie and his posture is slightly slouched. Classic scary dog privilege for a nighttime walk - well, if his hair didn't scream valentine's day pink to the world. Although no one else has flaming hair other than the Shroud family, so he doubts anyone would interrupt.

You decide to take the long path home and through a nearby park. The night was still young for nightowls such as yourselves, and fresh air was always crisp at this hour.

Along that path you decide to stop at a cement bench by some vending machines and chill out for a bit. Despite having just ate, Idia gets you each a can of coffee.

He'd be leaving to go back to S.T.Y.X tomorrow. Like he does every Sunday. His gaze drifts to the watch on your wrist and thinks about adding some new features - maybe video chat? So he can see you throughout the day. He wonders what you'll be up to while he's stuck in the lab. Maybe you'll go shopping, or play a new game. Maybe you'll try out a new recipe or take Grimm Jr. out to play. He wishes he could see you during the week.

Ah. You're talking. He should probably tune in or you'll get mad at him. Why's it so hard to focus? He hasn't felt this uneasy in a while...

Why is he having these kinds of thoughts? It's weird.

"You okay? You seem a little spaced," You pull him from his thoughts, a concerned crease wrinkling your temple. "Eh. It's nothing. Just not looking forward to the week," he chuckles weakly. "I know that feeling. It's always a bummer when you dip. Not to sound clingy or anything" His golden hues spark for a moment, a pale pink dusting his cheeks as he whips his head to look at you.

"W-wait - really? I was just thinking the same thing...." "You were?" "Yeah. It's...kind of weird without you. Everything's emptier. Wow. That was pretty cringe. Sorry." He grimaces, internally screaming and knowing that this was going to replay when he tried to sleep later. You tilt your head at him, a slight frown on the cusp of your lip. Something tickles at his fingers and he looks down to see you lace your hand with his. "I miss you too," your words are soft. Genuine. He feels his neck grow hot, the pink glow radiating off him betraying him. Idia looks between your interlaced fingers and the drink in his hand. There...wouldn't ever be a 'right' time for this. Would there? You've waited long enough. He pulls his hand away and pops the soda tab off with deft hands.

"Hey..." he twiddles with the soda tab in his hands, "on a scale of 1-10, how are my odds of getting a yes?" "A 'yes' to what?" "To this, " he sighs through his nose, holding the tab out towards you with a shaking hand, "will you marry me?"

{A soda tab from canned coffee. Not the most charming offering, and it barely fits around your pinky finger. Yet, Idia's always been impulsive at his core. Had he not acted in the moment, he likely would have ran countless possibilities over and over in his mind. While not your forever ring, the tab will remain a sentimental piece}

{Idia is not a man with a keen eye fore jewelry - but he knows quality. Combine his eye for perfection with his craftsmanship and behold - a ring made from purified blot. The center gem is a piece of magestone in it's most refined state. The band is titanium and there are small sapphires along the molding. Since he would be wearing a matching band, Idia decided to keep the design simple. He prefers functionality over all. Yet he does want you to feel proud of his handiwork, so he includes vintage molding on your band only. He wears a smooth black band on his ring finger, and never removes it}

[olderthannetfic]

Nearly 75% of fic on AO3 has less than 5 reader comments. Can we please acknowledge that lack of engagement in a positive fashion is the norm in fandom and that writers are expected to work for nothing in return yet readers are allowed to be entitled?

The source of my number

https://www.tumblr.com/transholmes/738776926733336576/and-even-those-numbers-on-the-lower-end-are

--

Hahahahaha.

Oh, anon.

Okay, first of all, I just posted a bunch of graphs showing exactly this, so not only am I well aware of it, but you also clearly don't read my tumblr much and are just here because some friend of yours is upset that I responded negatively to them about their dumb bookmarking opinions.

Second and more importantly...

No, no one is expected to do anything.

That's crazypants influencer talk where you think your hobbies are jobs that you have no choice about doing.

I suppose I do expect fans to have something at least marginally worthwhile to say—or else I'll block them for being whiny little bitches who make my day dumber as well as less amusing.

But mostly, what I expect is that people will do hobbies because they are fun. If I ever decide that writing fic is too boring, I will stop.

I write because it's fun.

I write original work for money too, and if you want to read that, you're going to have to pay Amazon your cold, hard cash. But I still do it because I enjoy the actual act of writing... at least a lot of the time.

What I see in the bookmark boo-hooing is a bunch of people who haven't noticed the last eighty thousand rounds of this same dumb wank and who not only expect to get the last word but expect that somehow I'm going to signal boost it on my tumblr as that... a tumblr known for contentious debates and nobody ever getting the last word till everyone's exhausted and never wants to hear about paper plates or beans again.

I also see that some of the thinnest-skinned people have fic patreons.

Now, I chose not to bring this up before because it sounds a bit below the belt in that "And thus you're morally impure and thus I can ignore your argument" way... But it's a consistent pattern in these conversations over time, and I do think it's relevant. The biggest sensitive babies are always the ones most afraid of bad reviews but also low engagement, and I think it's because they're caught in some half-pro, half-not limbo where they want the best of both worlds but keep getting the worst of both.

If you behave like a professional who is owed compensation, you can expect a more professional style of response to your work.

And what does the pro world look like? Radio silence. The occasional harsh review. Nobody caring why you wanted to write X or why you couldn't finish Y on time.

If you're here to socialize, you should look for a beta or a couple of good friends who like your blorbos and your style of fic, and then you can squee together about what you've written. It may not come in the form of visible AO3 comments. It may be in private chat.

In some cases, it may just be friends you can talk to about your writing but who aren't actually going to read it. I have plenty of friends who read different things than what I write.

That's what socializing and hobbies look like, dude.

It's fine to point out that many writers do get discouraged by low comment counts and then stop, so if I, as a reader in a fandom, want more, it behooves me to befriend writers and make them feel good.

But at the same time, writers get discouraged or move on to the next fandom all the time for all kinds of reasons. If the critical mass and the zeitgeist aren't there, then they aren't.

Do your hobbies for reasons internal to you.

If the main point is external validation, get into BDSM and find someone excited to indulge your praise kink. It will work a lot better than chasing fame via art.

[hiemaldesirae]

i have less than 24 hours left before i have to go through one of the most stressful days of my life so. heres a list of my fav radiostatic fic recs in no particular order

clarification: by radiostatic i mean fics where vox is 100% not the dom in the relationship. most of these dont contain explicit sex though, and im not recommending any straight porn fics here because you can easily find those with a click and search through the bottom vox tag lmao

most of these fics are unfinished, so be warned that i will not take accountability if you get attached to these without them being finished properly. in fact ill just laugh at you because then we'll be suffering together

now, that aside- starting off strong with some of the more popular fics:

RHTVS / Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch

notes: LONG fucking fic. like this guys almost 700k words long fic. one of the best things ive ever read in my life though and it has a plotline thats frankly more engaging than the actual showing of hazbin on amazon. so. you know. if you have the time to read it Please do you wont regret it

Unraveling Emotions by Xaelei

notes: one of my favourite fics ever on god. started my brainrot for dad!husk, portrays one of the most scrumptious radiostatic dynamics and is generally so very well written that i might end up trying to recreate one of the scenes in comic form. genuinely in love with this fic and im so glad i can say i was the first comment on this fic because my God its such a treat to see new chapters drop for this. unfortunately i havent had the time to write out a detailed comment as of now but if someone wants to let the author know that im still in love with their fic and will continue supporting it until i drop dead go ahead for me

Safe with Me by rillyrillo

notes: the prequel and main fic of this series is human radiostatic, though the sequel is set in hell. it comes with gorgeous gorgeous art and frankly one of the most exhilirating endings ive ever had the pleasure of witnessing play out. i recommend you guys check out their other fics too, the art continues in them + their radiostatic is written wonderfully across all universes!

A Month of Rut by Vylad

notes: this fic is very self indulgent to me. i love the way radiostatic is written in this one because theyre very soft and sweet, but others may not prefer it if theyre looking for freak4freak radiostatic. if you just want something to indulge in and relax with at the end of a heavy day though this is my #1 rec. i read this sometimes when i find myself crying at night lmao

Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast

notes: made me sob like a baby. 10/10 no notes whatsoever read it for yourself because you WILL not regret it. i genuinely am always at a loss for words whenever i reread this because it is among the most gutwrenching but beautiful and poetic works that ive ever read and i think it deserves some recognition

Mind the Gap by ZLynn

notes: again, to reiterate, i do very much dislike the abusive!staticmoth portrayal i see in a lot of fics. but in this one... it's written so perfectly, i can definitely see it actually happening. i enjoy the way that val does still seem to care about vox, albeit in his own twisted way that eventually breaks and fractures their love and trust, and its just. Ugh. So fucking good

+ with the less popular but still wonderful depictions of radiostatic that i love to indulge in:

i'll give you a show (cause it helps fill the seats) by dead_and_dreaming

notes: absolutely shameless plug from me for my dear mk's work because i cant stop thinking about the way that she's portrayed al here. its actually insane how fucked up that stupid little deer is and i just. i really fucking love the way that their alastor is written, it's genuinely probably my Number One depiction of alastor ever. i demand more of this stupid little freak RIGHT NOW!!!!

Any of the fics by Rachello344 in the Hazbin Hotel Fandom Tag on their profile

notes: so remember when i told you guys i wouldnt be linking straight porn. looks away... okay in my defense though i read the smut for the characterization and their unique dynamics. its sooo interesting to see how their radiostatic is explored here and im honestly refreshed by the depiction of their relationship. im here for it !!!

The Read 'Em and Weep Series by TooManyPseudonyms

notes: so from what i was able to piece together (everything flies over my head when im reading, forgive me for my low media literacy) this is an au set before the hotel where (in the first work) al and vox are in a qpr relationship. in the second work this evolves into a romantic relationship, and the exploration of their dynamic through this is just... Yeah. please read it its 100% worth your time and so underrated it hurts my heart

Uneasy by Saezs

notes: this fic is one of the first radiostatic fics i read (the others being RHTVS and... i think i tried the 666 series, but it didnt appeal to me lol) and its actually just wonderful. i really love saezs's genderfluid vox and how supportive the other vees are of them <3 their portrayl of the characters puts a smile on my face whenever i reread their work

Heat Waves by HappyPRAWN

notes: i'll be fr dsmptsd hit me like a truck when i read the title but it is such an interesting debut! only at one chapter as of me making this post but the way the author wrote this is so engaging and it really makes me wonder what they have next in store for the fic

Do I have your attention now? by Chi_Chi25

notes: wow no way we have the same name... anyway ahem. ill be completely honest this ones a bit of a guilty pleasure for me. this fic is a bit fragmented and short, so for people who click off fics when they see imperfect grammar this one may not be for you. however if you can look past that, it has an engaging storyline and quite the juicy concept :)

Killer Ex by FanGirl48

notes: gorgeous, gorgeous little human! radiostatic oneshot. i love the relationship that vox and al have here... the reasons why they both stayed away from each other even though theyre still so very clearly down bad for each other... anyway. i think about this one a lot and i still go back to reread it sometimes lol

Negotiations by FanGirl48

notes: i didnt realize until i started making this list that this fic was also written by fangirl48.... go off queen keep feeding us (me). this one was a fic recommended to me initially by link nonny, and i can 100% vouch for how good it is. its got appletv interactions, radiostatic plus lucifer trying to navigate heaven, angels... basically everything needed for a very varied and well packed with flavour story

The diary of a Serial Killer by ShippersCave

notes: okay im running out of brain juice at this point but. yeah this fic is soooo self indulgent to me. this ones another human au, with al as a serial killer and vox as the journalist trying to conduct interviews with him. its got SUCH a good dynamic between al and vox, i encourage you guys to check it out and give it a chance even if youre not really into human aus.

My heart's been pierced by Cupid by ShippersCave

notes: pirate/siren au !!!!!!!!! RAAHH !!!!! i dont have to say anything else for this if thats not enough to get you to click then i dont know what is

System Shutdown by Swoolie

notes: i cant believe i nearly forgot about this one LMAO... vox goes onto a temporary hiatus and everyone goes crazy about it. im not really sure if this counts as radiostatic frankly because of the way its tagged but its so good i think you should give it a read anyway

Together in Radio Static by Anonymous

notes: QPR media husbands radiostatic au !!!! i love this one especially because it opens off with vox slapping alastor across the face for leaving him LMAOO (deserved)

What Has Been by Tianren

notes: another human au (YEAH YEAH I KNOW. JUST HEAR ME OUT OKAY i swear im cooking) look, as someone with religious trauma deeper than i can properly express and the worlds fifteenth worst parental issues, the depiction of vox in this fic just really hits home. i really adore the exploration of voxs past and how the themes of religious guilt and cults are woven in so far- and it blends very seamlessly with their human au, despite the characters eccentricities

you're too sweet for me by awestruck_atrophy and moonbeanies

notes: basically, vox and al make a deal where vox tries to help him out of the shackles or whatever that are bound to him because of his stupid dumbass lusting for power. its very intriguing so far and i love the setup and worldbuilding the authors have done, so you should check it out if you want a unique perspective on radiostatics relationship

candlelight by curtailed

notes: the best way i can think of to describe this one is like... fake marriage but instead of fake marriage its. fake roommates??? the author probably puts it better than me tbh. its super interesting so far, i cant wait to see where this one is headed especially with how unique its premise is!

Zero Day by Anonymous

notes: this one is like those time regression manhwas. you know, the ones where the protag goes back in time and proceeds to try and avoid everyone who made their life miserable- only to fail because for some reason now they're paying attention to them more than they would have had they stayed the same person. its certainly very promising, though! i do love indulging in time regression stories, especially when the mc is someone i love like vox. i really cant wait to see which direction this one is headed in :)

Never as Good as the First Time by IComeForFanficsNowin403

notes: okay. so, uh. um. so- this one is in spanish. HOWEVER its premise (serial killer alastor meets television star (?? i think. its not quite clear) at a party hosted by rosie, moves into his neighborhood to keep an eye on the pretty prey) is just so unique i honestly think its worth the experience to pull out google translate and try living the machine translated life. really. give it a chance. also its got beautiful art to go along with, so.. you know. thats just a bonus!

+ honorary staticmoth and one-sided/past radiostatic fic rec:

Freak-A-Zoid by Femalefonzie

notes: this fic deserves every single piece of praise its ever gotten because good lord. its SO good. i was not seeing the radiostatic twist come in, but it *is* mostly staticmoth. and also a/b/o but i mean. who *hasnt* indulged in a little bit of a/b/o before honestly

there are other fics that i personally like to indulge in, but i frankly wouldnt recommend to anyone else because they're either the kinds of fics that i myself can only bring myself to read after ive spent 8 hours at work crying into my pillow and need to look at something entertaining, or when im starved of content and cant be bothered to cook myself so i pull out the translator and start going at it. (technically i should know how to read french by now but. urgh. anywway..)

[leothil]

Tumblr Fandom: A Year in Review 2023

@mistmarauder thank you so much for creating this and tagging me! 💛💛

Top Five Blorbos: 1. Eddie Diaz - 9-1-1 2. Leon Draisaitl - Hockey rpf 3. Embry Carter - Rebel Kings MC 4. Matthew Tkachuk - Hockey rpf 5. Eddie Fulton - Summer Sons

Top Five Fandoms: 1. 9-1-1 2. Hockey rpf 3. Rebel Kings MC 4. Percy Jackson 5. Summer Sons

Top Five OTPs: 1. Buddie - 9-1-1 2. Mattdrai - Hockey rpf 3. Embry and Mateo - Rebel Kings MC 4. Andrew and Eddie - Summer Sons 5. Quinn Hughes and Brady Tkachuk - Hockey rpf (listen. I can feel the brainrot brewing for these two. It's gonna get worse.)

Shoutout to Some New Friends: I feel like this year is the first time I really properly interacted with @shitouttabuck, @messyhairdiaz, @eddiebabygirldiaz and @toboldlynerd and it's been a truly wonderful time! Shoutout to @nunc-spes-spei and @zahlibeth who are always willing to yes-and spec/ideas and indulge weird theories, you're the best!

Shoutout to Some Old Friends: @rewritetheending, talking to you more this year has brought me indescribable amounts of joy, comfort, relief, every positive feeling out there! I can't emphasize enough how important you are to me! @onward--upward you are a true champ for putting up with my weird hrpf rants and excessive post sharing, I love sharing the brainrot with you! My Buck and Eddie girls @burnthatbridge, @girldadbuddie, and @thatsveryood, I treasure you SO much and hope we can share an unhinged video chat again soon (NZ meetup??)! And my absolute ride or dies, my teeny tiny friends, @buckactuallys, @capseycartwright, @clusterbuck, @hattalove, @oatflatwhite, and @thatbuddie, you're the best thing I have gained from this webbed site, I can't believe I get to talk to you every day! All hail the superior search engine etc, I love you so much!

Favorite Creation You Posted This Year: I've loved doing my fic recs from the archive-project and I've been so happy to see other people discover new old fics through it! (It's not finished, I just wanted a break over the holidays!)

Favorite Creation Posted by Someone Else This Year: I've got to shout out @butchdiaz's Eddie Diaz is the archer because I sat eating breakfast at our summer cottage one morning back in July, watching this video on repeat and struggling to keep my feelings somewhat contained because I couldn't spoil my sister by showing it to her.

People Who Brightened Your Year: Everyone I've already mentioned, naturally, but also @tripleaxeldiaz, @henswilsons, @kitkatpancakestack, @eddiediaaz, @try-set-me-on-fire, @transboybuckley, @trippedandfell for being those extra bright spots on my dash and sometimes in my DMs!

Anyone Else You’d Like to Mention: Big shoutout to all of my mutuals and followers, you are all fantastic and I'm really happy to be here hanging out with you! Extra thanks to @evcndiaz @nymika-arts @glorious-spoon @ellelans @spruceoutoffive @captain-hen @fcntasmas @andrewblur @spaceprincessem @mellaithwen and @mistmarauder for being absolutely wonderful presences on my dash, mwah!

Five of Your Favorite Authors This Year: In the interest of not trying to double-tag people (and get to shout out even more peeps):

@bropunzeling I've reread all of your mattdrai fics more than is probably healthy, and you are this 🤏 close to making me acquire new blorbos by reading the rest of your bibliography.

@msmargaretmurry I'll have you know I reread Head Above Water three times this year and it made me more unhinged every time. That's not counting the times I went back to it just to reread a favourite scene or two.

@hopetorun your mattdrai winner's room fic rearranged something in my brain and I'll never be the same again.

@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels I don't know how you do what you do but I'm in awe, every single time!

@littlespoonevan I've gone back to reread several of your fics this year, and there's something so uniquely sweet and comforting about them!

Five of Your Favorite Artists/Gifmakers/Podficcers/Etc. This Year: 1. @bilosan your gifs are so gorgeous and I always love seeing what kind of sets you put together! 2. @like-the-rest-of-la if I could eat your art, I would!! It's so stupidly beautiful! 3. @skyhighrollins911 your edits are beyond gorgeous, and the cast sharing them as well is so deserved! 4. @barbiediaz your gifsets bring me endless joy and make me stop to look even when it's a fandom I'm not personally in! 5. @baneme-art I am so in love with the way you draw Buck and Eddie, I could look at them for hours!

Three Things You’re Looking Forward to in 2024: 1. S7 of 9-1-1. Of course. 2. Continuing to learn more and get better at west coast swing! (Please let me get into the spring course I will be crushed if I can't have it regularly for half a year 😢) 3. Book seven of Rebel Kings MC (Garrett Leigh you KNOW what you did!)

Tagging: Anyone and everyone tagged in this post already!

[angelatmidnight1]

A Helping Hand

A/N: This is just a self-indulgent fic I'm using as a springboard for another one. I'm in a Gale/Karlach/Astarion high right now. I'll get back to requests as soon as I can, and I hope you like the story!

Fandom- Baldur's Gate 3.

Pairing- Starts with Gale x Karlach (platonic, ler!Gale and lee!Karlach), and ends with Gale, Karlach, and Astarion (platonic, ler!Karlach, ler!Astarion, and lee!Gale).

Word Count- 2,532.

Warnings- Situated in Act 3 so potential for spoilers, also tickling and swearing.

Gale finally shows Karlach how to cast Mage Hand, another avenue of touch, and she’s thrilled by the doors it opens up. He invites her to explore touch with him and doesn’t account for her using it for more playful, nefarious reasons, like tickling. And, just when it couldn’t get any more chaotic, Astarion invites himself in on the fun, too…

“That’s it, Karlach. Try the incantation again.”

Gale spoke from behind the tiefling after he guided her hands into the right position. She was very warm to the touch, but touching her didn’t burn. Her engine was a source of curiosity for him ever since she’d joined the party way back when. But, instead of indulging that curiosity, he’d promised to show her how to cast Mage Hand. Karlach had gotten the incantation down more or less. He just had to make sure she had her hands in the right place. Magic was just as much a physical thing as a verbal one in Gale’s experience. 

Karlach rigidly held her hands in position and repeated the incantation. “Veniam Iuva Me..” Her eyes brightened when the spectral hand emerged in front of her. “I got it!”

“Excellent,” Gale smiled. “Now, with a flick of the wrist, or a thought even, the hand will do as you command. You can pick things up, throw them, push the unfortunate goblin to their death…”

Karlach wasn’t fully listening; instead, she flexed and curled her fingers, and the mage hand mirrored her. “Yeah. Woulda been nice to have one of these when I got back to the Sword Coast.” She replied. “At least I’d have been able to touch something..”

She guided the hand across the Elfsong Tavern and picked up a tankard. She brought it back over to her and took a sip of the ale, exhaling deeply. “Aw, man. A girl could get used to this..”

Gale chuckled and picked up his own glass of wine. “Learning cantrips are only the beginning of a lifelong journey with magic. Cheers to taking that first step.”

Karlach happily clinked her tankard with his glass. She took another sip, her eyes sparkling with genuine wonder and curiosity. “So, I can touch anything with this hand, right?”

“Most things,” he corrected. “The mage hand can take damage just as our own. So, you couldn’t grab, say, the blade end of a sword. But you could wield said sword as an extension of yourself. It’s very handy in that regard.”

“Gods, the puns.” Karlach snickered. “And yeah, I’ll be sure to have one of these around when we beat the Absolute’s ass. But uh, I was thinking more along the lines of being able to, you know, hold someone’s hand? Maybe caress a face or two?”

“Of course. Here, if you’d like, you can explore the mage hand’s capabilities with me.” He finished his wine and stood in front of her. He extended his own hand. “I’m more than willing to offer myself as a test subject in the pursuit of knowledge.”

“Really? That’d be awesome!” Karlach brought the hand to Gale’s, palm to palm. She interlocked her fingers and the mage hand, as well as Gale, followed suit. “Thank you, Gale.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Gale allowed Karlach to explore his hand with the spectral one, watching it stroke across his fingers. The barbarian hummed in thought and moved further up his arm. 

“So, what does this feel like?” She asked, moving the touches up to his wrist. “Doesn’t beat the real thing I suppose. But it is nice to have options.”

“Well, it’s very similar to the touch of another, minus the warmth of course.” Gale turned his palm towards the floor so she could go up his arm. “Maybe it is a lighter touch, too. Almost feather like..”

“Yeah?” When she reached his upper arm, she curled the fingers on the mage hand, gently squeezing into his skin. Gale fidgeted a little bit and exhaled through his nose. She raised a brow. “What? That doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“No, quite the opposite, actually.” He chuckled. “Bit ticklish is all.”

“Huh.” Karlach hummed again, continuing to kneading into his upper arm. She smiled. “I didn’t really pick you as the ticklish type, with you being all proper and scholarly and whatnot.”

“Y-Yehehes, well…” Gale chuckled a bit more and tugged at his arm, but the mage hand held strong. After a few more attempts, Gale managed to get his arm free. “I can say with confidence that ticklishness doesn’t have a face. Why, even the strongest warriors can be—hey!”

 Instead of going for his arms again, Karlach brought the mage hand towards his torso, prodding into his side. Gale again jumped away from the ticklish touch and giggled louder. He backpedaled and wrapped a protective arm around his torso. “Now, Karlach,” he warned. He suddenly felt a bit playful and grinned. “Choose your next actions carefully. Should you try to tickle me again, I will have no choice but to retaliate.”

He stepped further away from her, his hands glowing with magic. Karlach followed after him, snickering. 

“Oh really?” Karlach challenged, returning the grin. “Heh, I’d like to see you try!”

Somewhere else in the tavern, sitting on his bed, was Astarion. His brow was knitted together in concentration as he sewed up a split seam on a shirt. Not his shirt, but Wyll’s. Now that they were back in Baldur’s Gate, Astarion believed looking the part was a high priority. He wouldn’t stand for his companions walking around in tattered clothes. Ideally, he’d find a clothing merchant and just steal their stuff, but he was willing to pace himself. He flinched when there was a sudden roar of laughter, Karlach’s laughter, and he grumbled under his breath. Did she always have to be so damn loud?

“Karlach, can you keep it down?” He called sharply. He refused to look up from what he was doing; he was nothing if not a perfectionist when it came to sewing. “Some of us have important things to do, and I need to concentrate.”

But instead of quieting down, Karlach’s laughter only got louder. A thud accompanied this wild laughter, and Astarion’s patience waned. He got up with a heavy sigh, putting his work on his end table. Then, he followed the source of the racket. 

When he got to the next room, Karlach was prone on the floor, laughing her head off. Gale sat beside her with a smug smirk. Karlach’s mage hand was gone, and there was a purple aura emanating off of her: Gale’s variation of a Hold Person spell. Instead of completely immobilizing her, she was able to squirm around, though she didn’t get very far. The first place he squeezed was her hips, a terribly ticklish spot, and he was still kneading into them when Astarion entered the room. 

“I warned you,” Gale was saying as he skittered his fingers across her torso. He honed in on her sides, and her loud laughter calmed into not as loud giggles. “We could’ve handled this civilly, but you forced my hand!”

Karlach squealed and wrestled with Gale’s hands, but her laughter had weakened her, and she was honestly having a blast. “Fahahahaha! I-I’ll gehehehet youhuhuhu bahahack! Youhuhuhu juhuhust wahahait!” 

“Unlikely,” Gale snickered. “But I do admire your resolve.”

That’s when he summoned another mage hand and used it to poke at her ribs. Karlach’s frantic giggling mingled with snorts. Astarion fondly shook his head as he watched from afar. 

“Having fun, darlings?” Astarion soon spoke over Karlach’s laughter. He stepped further into the room. He was initially annoyed,  but Karlach’s laugh was highly contagious. He had to expend a good deal of effort not to giggle along with her. “I was wondering why Karlach was laughing so hard. I figured someone told a joke, fell on their arse maybe. But no, you’re just…tickling her. Adorable I suppose, but why?”

Gale looked up, joining the mage hand in pinching and scritching over Karlach’s ribs. She yelled and rolled from one side to the other, trying to dodge the hands. “Because I made the generous offer to teach her a spell, and she decided to turn on me,” he explained.. “I responded in turn by giving her a taste of her own medicine.” 

“So I see,” Astarion hummed. “Well, I’d tell you two to keep it down, but that’s impossible with her hyena call. Maybe you’d like a hand?”

“NAAHAHOHOHO!” Karlach protested, shrieking when Gale’s hand jumped to her armpit. She immediately brought her arms down, trapping his hand, and her laughter went up two octaves. Gale continued to wriggle his fingers along her armpit, but having her arms down didn’t make it easy for him. He sent the mage hand to wrestle with her arm to try and pull it up. Gale regarded Astarion with a quick glance, nodding. 

“I certainly won’t turn down the help—”

“Not you, Gale.” Astarion scoffed. He walked towards the duo. “Why, our poor fiery friend is in stitches, and you have the advantage of having literal magic at your fingertips. Helping you wouldn’t even begin to even the playing field..”

 Gale’s gaze snapped back to the spawn. He halted his tickle attack, giving Karlach a break. “Now hang on, I wasn’t the one that started this.”

“But you are the one indirectly causing the noise, in a manner of speaking.” Astarion stepped with a purpose towards them. “I couldn’t even sew in peace.”

“That hardly seems fair!” Gale protested. Since he spent a lot of effort keeping Karlach in place and now had his sights on Astarion, both his concentration and his spell slots waned. That didn’t stop him from popping up from the floor and pointing a warning finger at him. “Don’t you dare, Astarion!”

Karlach  wrapped both arms around her torso as they bickered. She didn’t mind tickling in the slightest, but Gale wasn’t going to weasel his way out of her well deserved revenge. Especially when she now had a partner in crime. While she was laying on the floor, she grabbed a fistful of the end of Gale’s robe and pulled him down with her. Gale screamed and, before he knew it, Astarion was on him, too. 

“Get him!” Karlach shouted, easily tangling the wizard up in her arms. Astarion smirked and knelt beside them. He waited until she pulled his arms over his head to poke into his sides. Gale flinched and tried to lean away from the poke, but he only leaned further into Karlach’s arms.

“Nohoho no no! AhAHah! Wahahait!” Gale yelped and squirmed as Astarion continued to prod into his sides, his frantic giggles already threatening to jump to laughter. “Two against one is nohohot fahahir!”

“Who said anything about fair?” Karlach grinned and clawed her way down his forearm until she could burrow into his exposed armpits. Gale bucked and giggled harder, trying and failing to bring his arms back down. “Nope, you’re not getting out of this one, Gale.”

Astarion climbed on top of Gale’s kicking legs, fingertips fluttering into his sides with more purpose. The wizard twisted from one side to the other, but his fingers stayed on him. “You really thought I’d help you? And end up on the receiving end of Karlach’s fury?” Astarion snickered. “No, my dear. Unlike you, I know how to pick battles that I can win, haha.”

“Y-Youhuhu opportunhistic leehehehehech!” Gale squealed and curled in on himself when Karlach circled her thumbs along the outer curve of his armpits. The barbarian smirked, following the curve of his back and ending with swipes of her claws at the back of his ribs. Gale yelled and jerked forward, only to press his back into her chest when she kept scribbling. 

“Where ya goin’~?” She giggled. She let go of his arms for the moment so that she could use both hands to attack his rib cage. Gale immediately brought his arms to his sides and batted at her wrists. 

“Awahahahay frohohohom youhuhuhu!” He yelped and squeezed at her wrists when she tickled faster. “KAhahahaha! Lehehehet mehehehe gohohoho!”

In truth, Gale enjoyed tickling every now and again. It’s not something he’d go around talking about, but he definitely appreciated a good laugh. But Karlach and Astarion together were probably the most mischievous ticklers on the Sword Coast. If anything, they fed off of each other’s skills. Astarion had the dexterous fingers and teasing taunts, and Karlach had the strength and boundless energy. Together, they left Gale a laughing mess.

“Why? We’ve only just started,” Astarion teased, gently pinching the sides of his stomach. Gale jolted and belted out a laugh. Astarion did it again, earning another frantic laugh, and he grinned knowingly. Gale’s arms flailed as he tried to grab the spawn’s hands. 

“NOHOHO AHASTAHARION!” Gale wrestled with his hands, now full-on laughing. Astarion clicked his teeth as he tried to keep tickling his tummy. He gave Karlach an expectant look. 

“Ahem, little help here?” He asked, having to halt his tickle attack in favor of trying to move Gale’s hands. Karlach stopped tickling his ribs and reached over both men’s arms.

“Right, I’ve got ‘im.” She looped her larger arms around Gale and drew him back into her chest. Gale continued to squirm until his arms were trapped under hers.

“Thank you,” Astarion chuckled. He smirked at the wizard in front of him and made a big show of flexing his fingers. “Now, where were we?”

He put one hand on Gale’s tummy and Gale flinched again, nervously giggling. 

“Nohohot thehehre…” Gale jumped again and squealed when the spawn flexed his fingers. “AHAhastariohohon! Anywhehehre buhuhut thehehehre!”

“My, so sensitive..” Astarion continued to gently flex his fingers against Gale’s tummy, chuckling more at his squeals and cackles. ���I’m hardly touching you. Our resident wizard is just a magical bundle of nerves, isn’t he?”

“Sure is,” Karlach grinned. “But hey, who said you’re gettin’ all of the fun?” She readjusted her hold on Gale, now using one arm to keep him against her chest. She joined Astarion in squeezing and poking into Gale’s tummy, and his loud laughter echoed throughout the tavern. 

Astarion wrapped his legs around Gale’s to not get thrown off but, even then, he almost went flying. Karlach laughed along with Gale as she alternated between the side of his stomach and just above his hip. 

“Gods, I love your laugh,” she giggled. “It’s so fuckin’ cute.” Despite her strength, even Karlach had to make sure she didn’t let go of him. Gale bucked and cackled in her hold.

“NAHAHAHAHA! DOHOHON’T TIH-AHAHA! AHAHA!” Gale struggled to get a full sentence out; he could only laugh himself silly as he leaned into Karlach’s shoulder. 

Eventually, the duo eased off of him. Karlach let go of his arms, and Astarion slowed his tickles down to gentle pokes and stroking. Gale inadvertently slid down Karlach’s lap, finally able to bat at Astarion’s hands.

“Plehehease, truhuhuce…” He gasped, sighing with relief once Astarion finally stopped. The spawn snickered.

“Alright, alright, I’ve had my fun. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of our mutual friend.” Astarion patted Gale’s stomach and climbed off of his legs. Once he was gone, Karlach pulled the wizard up into a seated position, holding him close.

“No hard feelings, right Gale?” She asked, rubbing her warm hands over his torso. Gale exhaled and shook his head. 

“Not at all. I believe we settled our score,” He replied, leaning further into her warmth. “Astarion, on the other hand…” 

[helloporcelain]

Brûlant

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Gale/Astarion Rating: Explicit Tags: porn without plot, dubious consent, inappropriate use of mage hand, blowjob, rimming, frottage, blood drinking, handjob, jerking off with blood, sex pollen

Summary: “…Precisely how much of this spider’s blood did you consume?” Gale asks, his hands brushing Astarion’s hair off his soaked forehead. The touch makes the unbearable, painful heat in his body squeeze around him like a heavy chain. “You’re scorching. You could give Karlach a run for all her gold.”

Read on AO3 if you prefer

It’s not the first time that Astarion’s thoughts linger too long on Gale. But it is the first time that the temptation to feed on him is truly born.

They’re at the goblin camp finishing off the last of their enemies when he notices the mage clutching his stomach. Stains mar Gale's usually pristine robe: vivid crimson mingling with golden embroidery and velvety plum fabric. Gale has never been injured to this extent before – and the smell of his blood is so insane that it takes Astarion a minute to actually register it as blood; it’s an unapologetic, scorching assault that stings his nostrils. It burns to breathe it in, like inhaling the acrid, heavy bite of smoke after lightning strikes the soil of the earth in a fury.   

His curious gaze is clearly too obvious because Gale huffs at him. “Careful, Astarion. I'd exercise some self control if I were you. I'm fairly certain that indulging in my blood would lead to some rather disagreeable consequences for you." 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he sniffs, scrunching his nose up. “What the hells is wrong with your blood? The stench of it – it’s utterly disturbing.”

A wry smile crosses Gale’s lips even as he winces over his wounded abdomen. 

“Perhaps the weave has granted me a natural act of defense. A deterrent to all creatures who might wish to devour me.” 

"Well, it didn't do you any good here, did it?" Astarion drawls, playing his part of disinterest. "Consider me deterred, darling. A carrion crawler would be a treat compared to your freakish blood.” He tips his head backwards lazily towards the rest of the group fishing their arrows and swords out of fleshy goblin chests. “Somebody better tend to the soft little mage before he bleeds out.” 

Gale clears his throat, maintaining his composure. “I can manage this just fine, thank you,” he insists. “The sooner we distance ourselves away from this fetid pile of corpses, the better.” 

His bloodied form taunts Astarion the entire time as they get back on the trail, his head full with the noxious scent, pouding at the back of his skull – he barely contains the urge to shove Gale into Shadowheart so she can heal him, but the mage is too stubborn in making a show of how able he is. When they finally reach their home for the night, the group splits apart, and Astarion does his best to maintain some distance without coming across as too disturbed, even as Gale’s blood still accosts him in the air. With his feet aching from the long day, Astarion settles on a log and pulls out his arrows to wipe them clean of any lingering fleshy bits. Tav and Karlach start gleefully comparing all the stolen fruits of their labor they’ve gathered from the day as Wyll and Lae’zel hover over them to stake a claim on any well-crafted weapons.  From the corner of his eye, Astarion sees Gale waving Shadowheart off, trying to step away to his tent, but her hand shoots out to pinch the fabric on his shoulders.  

“Don’t be stubborn,” Shadowheart demands. “Let me see.” 

“Ah, it’s just a scratch, really. Nothing I can’t sort out myself.”

“Sit, Gale, or I might just have to tie you down.” 

Gale’s face flushes at the idea, but he relents and settles down on the bench next to Astarion, who tightens his lips at the proximity of him. Get away from me, Astarion wants to snarl. The smell of Gale is— is horrible, it’s awful. And irritatingly fascinating. He focuses his attention on his arrows, fixating on making them completely spotless, ignoring the gooseflesh rising on his neck from the pungent scent filling his head.

Gale shrugs aside his blood-soaked robe. He doesn’t notice when it misses the bench and falls to the ground in a heavy crumple. But Astarion does.

Halsin pops up behind the two — he’s chosen to spend the night here, and Tav is eyeing him suspiciously fondly — towering over and eclipsing Astarion from their view. Gods, he is big – the sheer magnitude of the elf is staggering, leaving Astarion momentarily awestruck. 

“Might I suggest an alternative?” Halsin asks. “I am a healer of some renown, if I may cast aside modesty for a moment.” 

Shadowheart considers this, and amidst their back and forth (with Gale flitting his eyes between them and wondering when they’ll decide to finally heal him already!), Astarion snatches up the garment discreetly and slips away. He doesn’t know why he does this— he wants to say he’s been compelled! That some mysterious force is urging him to do this! But that would be a bold-faced fucking lie. No – there’s an even worse reason – something innate, something primal that guides him to steal the damn robe. 

In the dim privacy of his tent, Astarion carefully unfurls Gale's bloodied cloak. He turns it over in his hands and presses his fingers into the wet fabric, the stains practically pulsing underneath his touch. He traces his fingers along the ridges and then raises them to his lips. Astarion’s throat goes dry. The smell of it sends a searing burn down his throat.

The idea of consuming the essence of magic itself is fucking tantilizing .

But he takes heed of Gale’s warning. The wizard is many things – a love-bruised, disgraced prodigy being one of them – but an exaggerator? Hmm. Perhaps not. The blood is probably (no, definitely) vile, and Astarion is in no mood to try a sample and contend with the potential of vomit and the subsequent clean up. Still, it doesn’t mean he can’t just… ponder it. Heat pools in Astarion’s stomach as he contemplates the way it would feel to have an inkling of the power living in Gale’s veins, to claim a fragment of it for himself.

His cock twitches when his mind inadvertently takes it a step further: how Gale might sound pinned under him, how he might arch and drool as Astarion fucks him into the ground. To shut Gale up for once and claim him , bent over, hands tied behind his back, neck stretched out.. 

It sends his mind into a tailspin, and Astarion knows he needs to go back out there and toss the dirty, unsightly thing back on the ground.

Instead, he brings the cloak up to his nose and holds it close, breathing it in. Astarion is near intoxicated from the razor-sharp scent of it alone, barely aware of what he’s doing as he stuffs a hand into his pants, grabbing at his length. His cock springs free from its confines, exposing itself to the cool air. He strokes up and down, working it to a full hardness, then he holds his breath. An intense idea overcomes him. What is wrong with his brain? Why is he doing this? No answers come to his mind as he wraps the fabric around his cock. His hips buck against it, cock drooling precum into the soft friction of the velvet, mixing in with the blood. 

Astarion concentrates on staying quiet even with his tent being the furthest away from the others, what with the others still unpacking from the day and chattering about, but the sensation has him hissing. It becomes a mission: there’s urgency in the way he moves, anger even, to come as fast as he can. He arches into both hands and fucks into Gale’s cloak, struggling to keep his breath steady amidst the strange, charred scent that fills the air. 

The sight of Gale’s blood coating around Astarion’s cock gets him off so fast that he’ll never have the gall to admit it, and he allows himself a quiet grunt as his cum soaks into his fabric wrapped fist. When his orgasm dies down, Astarion bites out a humorless chuckle. Well , he thinks flatly, I really need a bath now .

He also somehow really wants to eat still, he realizes, his stomach churning despite dining on bugbears and goblins. 

Astarion remembers some boar tracks on the trail east of the camp and doesn’t spare another second –  he grabs the cum soiled cloak and throws it into his sack, along with a change of clothes and a fresh jar for any extra blood. Not that he ends up needing it — Astarion is particularly vicious about his meal, for not only does he drain the boar completely dry, but he makes an utter mess of it too: ripping apart its neck and clawing its chest open for no reason at all, other than that he simply can . 

An hour later, he emerges from the woods, freshly bathed and belly bloated. The camp is quiet now, save for the sounds of an owl hooting nearby and the gentle licks of the campfire’s flames. Everyone has gone to bed, eager to start a new day. Everyone except for Gale, who’s tracing his steps in circles to find his missing cloak. It's no ordinary cloak; it's his absolute favorite one, he can’t help but grumble to himself.

"Did someone really just toss it away?”

Astarion skulks up to him from the shadows, causing Gale to lurch with surprise, hand flying to his chest. “Oh!” 

“I washed it for you.” With zero grace, Astarion throws the cloak at Gale, damp, but now clean of cum and blood. 

Gale catches the garment, eyes furrowed as he untangles it with delicate care. His eyes scan it over to see if Astarion has perhaps messed with it – which, well… 

“You know, I really could’ve just used my magic to clean it.”

“I was gagging at the foul odor, waiting for those two to finish with you, so it was either that or burn it in the fire. Gods know I would not be able to handle you drone on about how you missed such an antique article of clothing.”  

“I’m going to go ahead and choose to believe that you were just being uncharacteristically thoughtful, Astarion, so for that, I will thank you.” Gale waves his hand to the bottle of wine nestled up against the log. “Care to join me for a drink? Tav swiped this vintage red and it feels far too selfish for me to finish the bottle myself.” 

Astarion purses his lips. “Why not,” he replies, grabbing a goblet and letting Gale fill it halfway with the wine. “What’s so special about this cloak anyway? Surely not because it’s in fashion.” 

Gale proceeds to yap on and on about why the cloak is so near and dear to his heart, how his mother had painstakingly sewn it herself, and Astarion actually sits there and listens to the whole thing while he sharpens his dagger with a whetstone in between sips from his chalice. The worst realization of the night is not that he needs to keep his distance from an injured, bloodied Gale from now on (lest his brain gets carried away with the notion of devouring and fucking Gale again), but that Astarion finds him… endearing? 

How twee. 

✼✼  

Tonight, Gale cooks entirely without any magic.

Karlach and Lae’zel return from hunting with a bountiful sack of rothe meat, fresh for the hearty stew that Gale intends to prepare for their supper. 

“You'll see,” Halsin tells him, igniting the fire beneath the cauldron as Gale extracts an assortment of spices and herbs from a weathered wooden box. “To appreciate the experience of cooking with only your bare hands – without any arcane assistance - it's a fresh perspective, a new joy.” 

“I believe you,” Gale acknowledges, tenderizing the meat with a small mallet. “That’s not to say that I completely understand the appeal of taking the longer route. Work smarter, not harder, eh? Multitasking is a wondrous thing! Back in my tower, I could have the pot simmering, a pin kneading dough for my bread rolls, and savor a delightful cup of earl grey – all without worrying about keeping a watchful eye on it.” 

Halsin smiles, rising from the floor. “Well, here, you are not alone. There are many eyes to assist you.” He proceeds to enlist some of the others to help out with chopping vegetables, setting up plates and silverware on makeshift tables. Astarion is relaxed and reading as this goes on, taking in the last of the day’s sunrays. (Warmth hasn’t lost its novelty – it never will.) 

The rest of the group buzzes as everyone waits for Gale to work his culinary magic. Tav can’t help but hover over Gale’s shoulder with curiosity (‘ The onions I found weren’t too moldy?’ they ask), asking how everything is coming together and Gale is so enthusiastic about it all that his big eyes seem to just sparkle with delight — and ugh – isn’t he just adorable . Astarion buries his nose back into his book – some terrible pulp erotica he’s picked up somewhere – not at all interested in the commotion around him. 

When supper's finally prepared, the group gathers with hungry anticipation. Moans of delight fill the air as they all dig into their meal, and Gale looks particularly satisfied with himself. “You’re right, Halsin,” he says, holding his bowl on his lap, surveying them all. “Something special about tonight’s dinner indeed.”

“It is acceptable,” Lae’zel muses, staring thoughtfully into her quickly emptying bowl. Wyll grunts with admiration, his mouth full of food. 

“Why even bother trying to be the greatest wizard of all time?” Shadowheart jokes. “You’d make a fine house husband with the way we’re all fawning over this meal. I mean, Halsin is practically in an otherworldly state right now,” and she nods at Halsin who’s finished his meal so quickly that he’s just sitting there with a satisfied smile. 

Karlach shoves in a mouthful of potatoes with gusto. She looks at Astarion with a sorrowful shake of her head. “Aw, Astarion, it’s too bad you vampires don’t need to eat, you’re missing out on some culinary genius here.” 

He looks up from the pages of his book and lifts an eyebrow at the mess on the corner of Karlach's lips. “Well, I can still enjoy the flavor of something, if you’re curious about that; though I have a taste for the luxurious – and a meal made with the leftovers of near rotten produce is not exactly something that appeals to me. But! You know. I’m sure it’s very good. To a plebian without a refined palette.” 

Gale offers a good-natured rebuttal. “I admit, I don’t exactly have the farmer’s market available to me right now, but I think I’ve done an all right job with what I was given.”

“Oh come off it Gale, this is the best meal I’ve had in ages.” She points accusingly at Astarion with her spoon. “And nothing about you is luxurious right now,” she says, making a face at the word, “You’ve been wearing the same doublet for the last week.” Astarion scoffs and straightens up in embarrassment at her comment. “Try it. I dare you to try and tell me it is not fucking delicious .” She grabs the book from his hands, squints her eyes at the cover, and pushes her bowl towards him.

Gale looks at him somewhat expectantly with those damned puppy eyes and the entire party is now goading him to try it, so— Astarion decides he’ll humor them. It’ll be funny when he’s correct about the food being perfectly average.

“Fine.” 

He takes a spoonful from Karlach’s bowl and brings it to his lips. The moment the stew touches his tongue, his flat expression changes and his eyes widen. It’s an unexpected delight. It’s savory and rich and perfectly seasoned and damn it, where did he learn to cook like this? In truth, Astarion hasn’t thought about “real food” in so many years. In the moments where he was at a tavern scoping for victims or entertaining Cazador’s guests at a ball, it never crossed his mind to indulge just for the sake of flavor – it would’ve felt like a cruel, pointless delusion to partake in when he was so starved of blood.

And though the stew does nothing to sate his true hunger; it’s a bittersweet joy, a tugging reminder that at one time, he could’ve been here as another version of himself, filling himself up on a meal made with such careful tenderness. The corners of his lips curl upward as he takes another bite, and then another. Gale, who’s watching him with anticipation, practically beams with satisfaction. 

“Was I wrong!?” Karlach exclaims, slapping at her thighs with enthusiasm. 

"You’ve forgotten a key part of this meal," Gale says, reaching over to the wooden trunk acting as a serving table. “You have got to try it with some of the bread, the crunch makes it a perfect little bite.” He reaches for the loaf, slicing a portion for Astarion. But before he’s done with it, the blade slips from his fingers, nicking his thumb in the process. He tsks, and blood quickly wells up from the cut, a droplet falling onto the ground as he brings it up to his mouth to suck the rest away.

“Ah, and this is why magic is a man’s best tool, in and out of the kitchen.” 

Gale wipes his finger on his pants and swaps to the other hand to hand Astarion the piece of bread, but Astarion is stiff and locked onto the sight of the petite ruby droplets rising from the tip of his thumb. He blinks, and Gale looks down at his hand, then raises his eyes back to meet Astarion’s. When he opens his mouth to say something – no doubt something unhelpful and insufferable – Astarion cuts him off.  

"It isn’t that good,” he snaps, not letting the look on Gale’s face stop him from getting up from his seat and slamming the bowl down on the wooden trunk. “I think it's time I go get my real dinner.” Astarion needs to eat something, anything . With heavy, tense steps, he storms off, disappearing into the forest. 

He can’t recall later how many carcasses he leaves out there in the woods, or even what kind of animals had the misfortune of being found by him  —  perhaps some rabbits — but he remembers that he drinks, and drinks, and drinks, until the only feeling that remains is a piercing ache deep within his belly. That’s one way to keep your appetite in check, he supposes. 

✼✼  

In all honesty, Astarion’s not even hungry. But he figures it can’t hurt to eat one last big meal before they make it to Grymforge and into the Shadow-Cursed lands where they’ll be stuck mucking about in for Gods know how long. 

He slips away from camp to skulk around the caves near them, unfamiliar with the territory and wary of all the strange little creatures hopping about. He scopes over the area to ensure there aren’t any poisonous spores floating in the air and wracks his mind over his mental notes to remember what animals Tav had told him to avoid out here, and that’s when he smells it: a plump spider nestled away in a small cavern. 

Sure, Astarion is used to mammals, having sworn off the idea of insects completely since his newfound freedom, but it smells positively mouthwatering, and there’s no rules, no person, to tell him what he can and cannot eat – or do – anymore. 

He considers the spider, looking over it not once, not twice but three times just to consider its viability, and he decides that it is perfectly suitable for a meal. He descends on the creature without any resistance whatsoever – it seems like it is sleeping, or sluggish, but Astarion can hardly question it as he drinks from it, mind clouding over from the craving he has for it. The spider’s ichor is a peculiar blend of something sweet and milky and almost sour, and Astarion drains it all from the creature until it shrinks away to a withered husk of its former glory.

There’s a mild cramp at first as the blood courses through him slowly, and he chalks it up to simply overindulging – he’s gotten somewhat used to gorging himself over the past few weeks, like a youngling set loose in a kitchen full of sweets. But with each passing step, Astarion feels an unfamiliar, searing warmth spreading from his stomach, a sensation that grows increasingly intense. He swallows through his prickly throat, trying to focus on his steps to navigate his way back. 

He’s hot, and gods, it is a foreign sensation, is this how it normally feels? He doesn’t remember. But better question is – why is he so fucking hot? Astarion starts to burn up as if scorching needles are being threaded through his veins. The heat is centered in his face at first, making his pallid skin flush with a ruddy hue as it snakes through his chest, twisting through his tendons; then, it is everywhere inside, the worst of it contained within flames coursing down his thighs, threatening to send him sprawling to the ground. The pain coils through his body, the intensity of it rising higher and higher as he trips over the tangled roots of plant life.  

Astarion makes it to the camp, but just barely. 

He stumbles back in a daze, mouth fuzzy as if stuffed to the brim with cotton, eyes delirious as he searches the camp for the tiny basin Shadowheart found earlier to dunk himself in. I just need a bath, he thinks dizzily, a nice, cold bath. 

With hazy vision and a throbbing head, he finally spots the tub, hidden in a little corner around the camp. There's a tiny moment of relief as he hobbles toward it. His hands tremble as he gets closer, ready to dive into it even with his clothes on. But as Astarion approaches, his focus sharpens, and he realizes that someone is already in it.

“Get out,” Astarion demands. 

The water swishes as Gale swivels his head around to look at him. He raises an eyebrow. “I took you as a man with more manners than that, Astarion. I only just got in and I would greatly appreciate not being rushed.” 

“I’m not joking around, Gale, get out of the tub,” he says, his fingers twitching at his sides. He’s always lamented the lack of warmth in his body, but now it just seems like a particularly cruel joke that he feels like he’s been set on fucking fire. Astarion lets out a sound of frustration as his hands lunge into the water, unable to wait for Gale, and not caring that it's warm. His movements are frenzied as he splashes water onto his overheated face over and over, gasping as the liquid does nothing to soothe his skin. 

Gale leans back with a baffled expression as Astarion’s fingers plunge around in the water. Beads of sweat trickle down his neck. “Shit,” Astarion says, wiping his face dry with his sleeve. He flicks his eyes back at Gale, actually taking in the sight of him sitting in the tub (the sight of his soft chest, his surprisingly broad arms) and he stumbles backwards when his cock twitches and his stomach lurches at the scent of him. 

He smells so good: a whirl of black tea, mugwort, hints of acacia, woody and clean – “Shit.” 

He runs his shaking hands over his face and looks away, breathing deeply to try to calm himself down. To try and make sense of the savage feeling building underneath the thin barrier of his embarrassment. 

“Something is wrong with you. What in the hells did you do, Astarion?”

Gale’s voice brings him back to looking at him, but thank Gods — Astarion’s not sure if it is magic, or if his sense of time is off or if Gale is simply more dexterous than he seems, because he’s out of the tub and fully dressed in his robe, adjusting the collar back into its proper position.

“I –” Astarion scoffs, indignant at the idea that this is a result of his own actions. “I didn’t do anything. I had dinner. That’s– that’s all I did.”

“And what exactly, pray tell, did you eat? Were you mindful of all the animals that Tav said you could feed from?”

“Of course I was, I’m not a nitwit.” But he hesitates when Gale squints his eyes at him. “I found a spider.” 

“A spider? Is that a frequent occurrence for you? Imbibing on the blood of arachnids? I admit, I lack extensive knowledge about vampire diets, but it doesn't seem to be particularly suitable –” “It smelled good ,” Astarion replies defensively, his voice cracking under an increasing sense of panic. “So I drank from it. As I am wont to do.” 

“And how did it taste? What did it smell like?” 

“It was – oh, I don’t know, milky? Bizarre in hindsight, but it was strangely appetizing. And — come to think of it, it didn’t even stir when I approached it.” 

Something goes off in Gale’s brain and his eyes open with understanding. "Succubi spittle perhaps," Gale remarks as he scrutinizes Astarion's increasingly haggard appearance. "If my understanding of the fluid is correct, it's something one should be very wary of.”

“Get to the point, Gale.” “You consumed tainted blood from a spider that was likely dying from the effects of succubi spittle. That is… very bad.”

“Clearly – what’s going to happen to me?” Astarion chokes out, taking a step towards Gale. There’s a furious, irritated rash blooming now all over his skin, going down his torso and disappearing under the trousers that are stretched tight against his body. “I feel like I’m going to rip my skin off.”

Gale doesn’t seem nearly as alarmed as he should be as he cups his chin with his fingers and thinks. “The longer this spittle is in your body, the sooner you are bound to deteriorate. From what I’ve read, you’ll eventually find yourself reduced to hallucinatory, almost euphoric state, and if you’ve consumed a high enough concentration of it – you could move on to causing bodily harm to yourself, perhaps even death; which could happen through a few methods, such as incessant scratching or–” 

"Enough!" Astarion silences Gale with a wave of his hand. “I’ve heard enough! I'm going to Shadowheart.” 

Astarion’s stomach twists and turns as he moves past him with urgency, but the mage’s fingers shoot out like a bolt, wrapping firmly around his wrist. The touch sends an electrifying surge through his body and straight to his cock, making him recoil from Gale in shock. 

“Fuck,” Astarion hisses. He glances down at his pants and can see them straining. And if Gale notices, well, he doesn’t comment on it.

“I’m afraid she can’t help you with this – well – unless… Ahem, allow me to clarify. There isn’t an antidote for this particular affliction, not in the form of a potion or spell, anyway. But you’re lucky, the cure is quite simple. You need to…” 

Gale chooses his next words carefully. 

“Well, normally, you could bed someone and be rid of it. So, essentially, in a manner of speaking, you need to flush it out of your body immediately.” 

Astarion narrows his eyes, letting the insinuation sink into his brain. 

“I see. Well. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Right.” Gale steps to the side, scratching at his head.  

An agonized groan escapes from Astarion on his second step. The world swirls around him, and he loses balance, crumpling to his knees. His arms tremble as he tries to maintain his precarious balance. “This can't possibly be how I meet my end! This is far too pitiful for me."

“My fanged friend,” Gale bends down slightly to grasp his shoulders, unaware that his touch makes his cock pulse with precum. His voice stirs something fizzy in Astarion’s stomach, his brain swoops, and he can’t help it – he moans . Astarion tries to push the invading thoughts out of his brain, but they beat back at him, filling his mind with images of ripping away Gale’s clothes, shoving him into the ground, stretching him out – 

"No need for the dramatics. I can help you back to your tent, but after that, you’ll need to muster the strength to combat this condition." 

Never in his life – even throughout the endless forms of torture he’s endured under Cazador’s hands – has Astarion ever felt like his cock might rot and fall off, but he’s certain he’ll have to prepare a eulogy for it now. It takes everything in him to not reach out and grab Gale to ravage his mouth, his stomach twisting in agony at suppressing his urges. With desperation, he tugs at Gale's robes. 

“I can’t feel my legs.” 

He heaves a cough, and then a deafening ringing weighs down in his ears. Gale’s lips are moving but there’s nothing coming out of them. Astarion’s mind glazes over so quickly that he’s hardly aware of being carried back to his bedroll, where he ends up sprawled on his back. Throbbing, white-hot lust singes through his body and coats deep in his core as he sucks in rapid breaths of air. His eyes clench shut in agony when the unbearable itch moves through his body and settles on his thighs.

“Astarion,” he hears Gale’s voice floating back into his head. He sounds so far away, but Astarion knows he’s right there, because a hand gently smacks at his cheek. He flinches as another wave rolls through his body at the touch. “I’ve brought you to your tent. Can you open your eyes? I should take my leave, though it would be very uncomfortable for me to explain to the others how you died.” 

“Died? Don’t you dare leave! No, no, stay and help me.”

“I’ll remind you again, Astarion, you can’t be healed of this, you need to–” 

“I heard you the first – gods, ugh – the first time.”

His eyes flutter open to see Gale sitting beside him, tense with worry. Astarion doesn’t register it, because suddenly, everything is so much slower around him. Everything in his vision dips, and then he only notices the wizard’s eyes swirling like rich brandy and dissolved sugar cubes so bright they could burn a hole in his body. There is a whole galaxy swimming and humming in Gale’s chest and all Astarion can think of is how he wants to plunge himself into it, to wrap his hands around the magic nestled deep inside and to squeeze until Gale comes undone under him and — 

“ Oh ,” Astarion breathes, eyes drooping into glassy little crescents. Well, if this is how he dies, Astarion thinks, this is how he dies. A shame that he’ll never get to plunge a stake through Cazador’s chest. “Death is so beautiful.” 

“...Precisely how much of this spider’s blood did you consume?” Gale asks, his hands brushing Astarion’s hair off his soaked forehead. The touch makes the unbearable, painful heat in his body squeeze around him like a heavy chain. “You’re scorching. You could give Karlach a run for all her gold.” 

“All of it,” he barks out a harsh laugh. “Of course. Of course you drank all of the tainted spider blood. And of course – I'm the one that has the misfortune of being the only one awake when you come back from feeding on said spider...” Gale trails off, shaking his head.

"I loathe," Astarion grits out as he aggressively scratches at his neck, his long, sharp nails scraping vivid red lines under his jaw, “wasting a good meal. Wouldn’t you know something about that?”

Gale stays silent, taking in a deep breath of frustration as he conjures a spell and casts it on Astarion. His arms drop sharply to his sides and his eyes shift to Gale’s face in confusion and anger.

“Clearly, you cannot be trusted to be in charge of your own limbs right now.” There is an agonizingly long pause before Gale sighs, and continues, “And yes, you’re right, I can't fault you. I do know what it means to quell your hunger, lest the maddening thirst overwhelms you.” 

Astarion’s eyes grow wider and wider until his mouth falls wide open into the most feverish smile. “A lesson in overindulgence, slow down on your next decadent meal of boots, wizard…” 

His face drops. 

“Wait, I’m dead. I’m dead?” 

“You are not dead.”

“I’m dying, then?”

"While I'm certainly no cleric, I can safely say you’re not dying – but you are in a state of delirium."

“Okay. Okay, if I’m not dead,” he says, blinking up at Gale, trying to get rid of the stars speckling in his eyes. “Then you can help me purge this from my body – and I do mean help.” 

“Help…” He stares down at Astarion with a look of disbelief. “Help, help? Ha! Yes, you are definitely out of your mind.” 

“You’ve only made this worse by touching me and– and smelling so good – only a buffoon would touch the person in literal heat. My body has decided that it – needs you.” 

“I,” Gale starts and stops, his mouth settling into a thin, mortified line. 

“What good is a mage who doesn’t make use of his magic in times of true need?” Astarion babbles. “I can’t do it myself, and you don’t have to either, just. Let a mage hand do it. It’s not like it’s you’re actually touching me – we wouldn’t want that – but this way we can get it out without provoking me into a frenzied itching fit."

“I suppose I can make some concessions and — help you. We are both grown men, after all, and this is an emergency. However, we will be having a long chat about your lack of self preservation later,” Gale warns. He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable, but then he conjures up the mage hand, and Astarion strains his head to glance in its direction. His vision corrects itself a few times, eyes crossing under his half open lids until he sees spectral hands, glowing a dim sapphire, poised and ready for its next command. Its cool fingers brush up his thigh, the vague touch causing little pin pricks to shudder down his spine, stopping at the top of his waistband. 

“Err — are you ready?” 

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Astarion hisses. 

His head feels too heavy for him to lift up anymore, and it falls back onto the pillow with a thud. The itch in his body is so extreme that he doesn’t even care how pathetic he looks right now, but a voice in the back of his mind shouts at him: it's not too late to turn back – you’ve lost enough of your dignity, tell Gale to leave! Deal with this on your own, weakling! Astarion stuffs it back into a crevice in his mind; right now, relief is all that matters. This – this desire is weakness, he knows, but he has an excuse this time. It’s the spittle… it’s not him. 

“I’m only looking to see if there’s anything else abnormal going on,” Gale assures him. “Not a second further.” 

The hand tugs at the fabric of his pants, then, his underwear; and he holds back a groan as his length is freed from the confines of his pants, rock solid and rigid. His cock is so extremely skin taut and bulging to the head, it looks like it’s suffocating at the tip. It seems almost bruised, tinged with deep shades of purple, nearly black at some spots. Gale coughs as he sees it for just a second before turning his head to the ceiling. 

“What? What is it?” he strains, unable to muster up the strength to lift his head up to take a peek at what’s happening between his legs. 

“The hue of it… I can’t imagine that such discoloration is normal for you, regardless of your undead nature.” 

“Speak. Plainly.” Astarion grits out between his teeth. 

“It’s purple.”

“Purple? My cock?”

“…Yes.” 

“Oh –  gods. It’s going to fall off. I’m going to lose my cock. I’m going to be a eunuch,” he splutters.

“You are not going to lose anything. If I can’t fix this then I’ll have to truly evaluate my skills as a wizard.”  

He shudders out a heavy breath as Gale commands the hand to touch his cock. It’s a gentle touch, hesitant to do anything more. “This year, Gale,” Astarion croaks. The fingers wrap loosely around him, and that’s enough to make him take a sharp breath. It starts to slowly stroke up and down, squeezing when it reaches the head, the magic radiating from the conjured hand seemingly sparking through his cock. "Faster." The hand falters for a second, before it follows his directions and works along his cock with more intensity. A tense minute of this passes before Gale breaks the heavy, shuddering silence. 

“Is… is it all right?” 

“Yes,” Astarion answers, but he thinks what he really needs is Gale’s touch – his real hands, not some conjured imagination of them. “No – yes, but no, I need – I need – touch me,” he begs, fucking begs. If he was in a less unhinged state, Astarion would throw up from how pitiful he sounds. 

“I am touching you,” Gale reminds him.

"Gale, damn it.” He barely notices the heavy way that Gale swallows through his dry mouth. “That’s not what I mean.” 

The mage hand continues to move up and down in a seamless glide, spreading his precum around, coating his cock slick. Astarion’s so hard he could cut through steel, it’s so painful, and he’s leaking a puddle against his stomach. It feels good— yet... It’s. Not. Enough. He can’t come from this alone. His head tilts back as he pants, his hips attempting to hump up against the conjured hand for more. “It hurts. It hurts so badly.”

Gale finally turns his head away from the tent’s ceiling to look at Astarion. His perturbed eyes bear into his skull. He’s thinking, weighing an idea.

“Please remember,” he mutters. “You asked me to touch you.” 

With some degree of hesitance, he reaches a hand out to rub his fingers along the outside of Astarion’s right ear, gentle as he moves root to tip, running his thumb along the inner surface. Astarion lets out a gravelly moan, eyes crossing over as his mind is flooded with even more pleasure. Such an intimate act – reserved for the most cherished of lovers, Gale must know this – is not one that he can recall ever experiencing. Astarion’s reaction is instant; the caress has him trembling and on the brink of tears. At the same time, the arcane hand wraps its slick fingers tighter around his cock and gives faster, firmer strokes, twisting at the base and rubbing its thumb over the head with each pull.

“It feels – okay?” Gale asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion chokes out something between a laugh of disbelief and a whiney moan – what a stupid question, what a completely insensible thing to ask!

“Ta,” he slurs, mind short circuiting, unable to push the answer – yes –  out in common tongue. 

Gale thankfully knows Elvish, he remembers, though it wouldn’t matter much if he didn’t, because anyone with half a brain can tell that whatever is going on is very much alright with Astarion. Another hand reaches out to curl over the shell of his left ear, fingers rubbing back and forth between the tip, down to gingerly pinching his earlobe.

Astarion writhes, deep gasps turning into shuddering purrs from his ears being stimulated. Frankly, it feels fucking shameless – the sensation overshadowing the thrusts of his cock against the mage hand. The only thing better that he can possibly imagine would be to have Gale’s pretty lips wrapped around his cock – and though he knows vaguely that there isn’t a chance Gale will relent to that idea, he groans at the image, terribly pained, and horrifyingly, overwhelmingly aroused. 

Gale probably mistakes the groan of pleasure for only a pained sound, because he whispers to him with sincerity, “You’re okay, Astarion. It’ll be over soon. You’re doing – you’re doing good. ”

The comforting tone pulls a pathetic whimper from Astarion and he looks up at Gale, eyes pitched dark in lust as the hand pumps his cock. Astarion meets each one with a thrust of his own. Gale tries to break his gaze and fails, his own face flushed with arousal, his chest dimly glowing in the darkness of the tent. Astarion doesn’t recognize the voice coming from his throat, whining for more, quicker, harder.

“Déithe. Le do thoil.” 

Gods. Please. 

The pace of the mage hand stroking his length speeds up, fist clenching more and more each time as it reaches around his tip, and Astarion feels the wave of his orgasm spiraling out from his belly already like Gale is actually pulling it out from him with a spell. His breath hitches, and his cock pulses with cum – so much cum –and it spills all over the blue fingers, thick and hot and seemingly endless. True relief washes through him, but it’s also agonizing in its own way, and Astarion can't help when a grateful, broken sob wrecks through his chest. It’s over. Finally. 

“Buíochas, buíochas, thank you–” 

Before Astarion can even register it, the relief is short lived, and his cock is still hard as ever, still the same unsightly shade of purple. What the fuck. It’s as if Gale didn’t help at all. The only comfort is that the itch burning through his body has subsided. He can feel his legs again, and it seems that the spell on his arms has worn off. But his lust is full throttle, somehow worse than before; Astarion continues to want, to need. 

“You're still–” Gale begins incredulously, but Astarion scrambles with all his strength to push him down on the ground before he can finish his sentence. His hands are all over Gale, fumblingly groping at his chest. He’s hysterically turned on, mindlessly driven to seek more pleasure, more flesh, more anything from Gale by whatever the spittle blood is doing to his mind and body, and he makes a strangled noise when he pushes apart his cloak and sees it.

The outline of Gale’s cock straining in his pants. 

A dark, wet spot at the top of the waistband. 

Astarion’s hands tremble as they run down Gale’s chest to his soft thighs. “You’re almost as hard as I am. Did you also drink something suspicious?” He leans in and braves just enough to place a finger at the outline of the tip. “No. I caused this,” Astarion salivates. “Not an uncommon circumstance.” 

“You—” Gale gasps, snatching Astarion’s wrist away. “You are not in the right state of mind, Astarion.” 

“Why state something so obvious?” Astarion gives a maniacal laugh. “No! No, I’m not fully in the same realm as you right now. But it doesn’t matter. I want to thank you. It’s only good manners, and I am nothing if not a gentleman.”

“There’s no need to thank me. I mean, really, I’m being completely sincere when I say I've changed my mind – you don’t have to bring up this terribly maladroit situation at all –” 

“Then forget about thanks, darling, and just allow me the pleasure of pleasuring you,” he implores, looking back up at him, pupils blown wide. Let me, let me, let me . “I’m not so completely rat-arsed to not know that you’re hard because of me .”

His fingers trace over the waistband of Gale’s trousers, pulling them slightly so that he can see the soft, brown hair that deliciously trails from his navel. Astarion marvels at the feeling tugging at his chest: how he wants , and what’s more, he carelessly wants to want. 

Gale’s eyes flit across Astarion’s face, his own expression fraught with anxiety. “I need to go,” he says weakly. “Once you regain your regular state of mind, you’ll regret that I was the one to find you, to help you at all –  this is a product of transient folly, spurred on by the spittle –”

“Please spare me from the precious coddling, it doesn’t suit you at all.” 

Astarion spits the words out with venom. He wants to touch Gale so badly he might throw up, and for a second he’s sure that Gale is going to get up and walk away.  Good . Good, he should get up and leave. How fucking embarrassing, how utterly uncouth and vile is it of Astarion, to push himself further on a man who simply wanted to help him not writhe around in agony due to a stupid mistake he made? 

But Gale.

Gale – he doesn’t make a single move, his body might as well be frozen as he only offers a shaky breath, hand falling down to his side. Astarion can’t let another second pass him by, just in case Gale does come to his senses and Astarion doesn’t have the strength to accept it. He tugs his britches down to his thighs and Gale’s cock springs out against his stomach, already leaking and waiting at attention for him. 

He swears there’s two versions of himself – one in control of the body, the other one floating outside– Astarion can see through another perspective as he drools, spit leaking onto Gale’s hard cock; he can hear the exact second when it hits the tip. He slobbers more saliva in his hand, then spreads it all along the veiny length, admiring the difference compared to his own pale cock – it’s not as long, but it’s curved, and thick enough that Astarion practically feels the phantom weight of it already in his throat.

His thumb dips over the dribbling tip, swiping over beads of precum. Astarion is mesmerized by the sight of it, by the erratic breathing from the man under him. It’s like he’s been bestowed a holy gift — and it’s all overwhelming for someone as impious as Astarion to accept it, but accept it he will. He drinks it all in at first, savoring the way he slowly works his fist; base to tip, then tip tortuously slow back down to base. Then, he speeds up with a fervor, and that’s when Gale’s hands reach to fold over his — and he’s so entranced he doesn’t even look up. 

But it’s not that Gale makes him stop. He doesn’t make him pull off from him. He doesn’t even say anything at all. He just forces Astarion to slow down. 

They're like that for a while, quiet, two pairs of hands moving up and down together, making the maddening lust inside of Astarion simmer and boil. The slick sounds and the way that Gale’s chest quickly rises and falls threatens to set Astarion ablaze if he doesn’t get his mouth around his cock immediately . 

“Did Mystra ever deign to get on her knees for her darling little mage?”

“She— she is the Mother of Magic , Astarion,” Gale chides him, like he is some kind of unruly child. 

“That’s a no, then.” 

He takes his left hand off and pins one of Gale’s hands to his side and leans in to trace his lips along the fat head of Gale’s cock. The groan that falls from Gale’s lips makes it obvious that it’s been a long, long time since anyone, no less Mystra, has shown the worshiper what it means to be worshiped. 

Poor Gale. A man who has had the unique privilege of making astral love with a literal Goddess, and yet, he is so starved of basic touch. Astarion feverishly contemplates what it means to be devout as he licks a slow stripe up Gale’s cock, savoring the taste of vaguely herbal skin, tongue lingering on the veins that line his length. Mystra be damned – Astarion will find out how it feels to hold Gale in his hands and pull tautly at all his strings.To desire and to be desired, oh, isn’t it all the same, so foreign in their intertwining? It’s a near violent, possessive urge: the need for Gale to remember the way his tongue works like a prayer, to recite it over and over in his memory long after tonight. 

He realizes, grimly, that Gale will be the first living, free person to remember him in this way.

Astarion then looks up through his lashes, dismayed to see Gale’s expression: curious but somewhat flat, like he’s simply observing. Writing mental notes to review later. That’s certainly not an expression Astarion has ever seen while in this delicate position, and he decides he’s not fond of it – it better change, he thinks, before he says something needlessly cruel. He slides the head of Gale’s cock between his lips, before closing them around the crown; then, he drags his tongue along the underside and then up the slit, tasting the droplets of precum pooling at the top. He watches Gale the entire time, unblinking, and he hums with satisfaction when Gale’s eyes widen in awe; his attention shifting to suck all around the leaking cock, making it messy with spit and flat tongue.

“Gods above,” Gale whispers, voice raspy, hands sliding up to his silvery curls. Astarion groans, closing his eyes, letting the fingers in his hair guide his motions, slurping and tightening his mouth when he feels Gale involuntarily jerk against it. “This – ah, this , isn’t any form of gratitude I’m familiar with.”

Astarion hollows out his mouth and slides his cock all the way back, so far down his throat that Gale makes an incoherent noise. The sounds of Gale teetering on the edge of his hushed composure is too much for his over-stimulated brain – Astarion juts his hand down to his still viciously hard cock, tugging at it harshly.  What is a prayer compared to the sanctity of Gale’s moans? They’re such sweet, hesitant little cracks under the way Astarion’s throat works like it wants to wring his cock out completely dry. 

Astarion’s head wobbles from it all. Is he really after Gale’s cum or is it still his blood? Maybe he’s only after some of the sanity he’s currently missing, rattling around in Gale’s brain. Maybe it’s all of the above, everything. He gasps for air as he pulls away, long strands of spit and precum connecting his mouth to Gale’s cock. 

“Tell me, Gale,” Astarion grins like a madman, pupils so blown that there’s just a sliver of crimson around the rims. “Is the regret settling in yet?”

“Yes,” Gale groans, frustration lacing his tone. Astarion’s face falters at the answer and his stomach almost drops, but then he feels fingers grasping around his curls. “I regret knowing that mouth — it’s completely wicked.” 

“You’re not a liar, right?” Astarion asks, fluttering kisses all around Gale’s cock. “Have you thought about my mouth before?”

Gale nearly hisses in disapproval at the question: “ Astarion .”

“You have, haven’t you?” 

“Anyone would, when you’re constantly boasting about your skills ,” Gale grimaces, as if admitting such a thing is painful. 

Astarion nail’s scrape against the base of Gale’s cock, causing him to tense against his grasp. He’s not sure why he needs to hear this so badly. “Have you touched yourself, thinking of me?”

Gale is breathless, but he gives him a straight answer, no wit involved.

“Yes.” 

Something snaps in Astarion at the admission and his hands shake when they go to tug Gale’s pants further down to his ankles, eliciting a surprised groan from him. Astarion pulls him apart and palms his ass, watching as he shudders, then dives in with a long, messy lick along his perineum. He laps at him, rolling his tongue around the tight rim of muscles, then sinks inside, burying his tongue in while Gale’s whole body shakes under him. Astarion’s cock leaks as he buries his tongue in and out, completely and blindly overtaken by desire. He's frantic and needy as he alternates between sucking sloppy kisses against the rim and intense licking; one hand hooking under Gale’s knee to lift him, the other snaking down to grasp Gale's cock to pump it in tandem with each lap. He listens as Gale’s breathing becomes more raw and ragged as he pulls at Astarion’s hair.

“Astarion,” Gale strains, “ Astarion, please, just –” 

The moan that tumbles out from Astarion feels like it has been punched out of him. Oh, he thinks, how lovely – Gale has never sounded better than with Astarion’s name on his lips, it’s such beautiful pleading — he could get used to it.

His original goal was to make Gale come apart under his tongue, but he thinks of something else, another wicked way to make the mage fall apart, to come closer to the same raving lunacy that Astarion is experiencing. One that involves less mental juggling of hand and mouth. Astarion pulls his mouth away, pushes forward and climbs onto his lap. They look at each other with a shared gasp when their slick, aching cocks meet, rubbing together. 

“You– we– we should stop.” Gale strains, angling to push him away. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” 

Astarion scoffs, sinking further over him. “I know exactly what I’m doing to you.” Gale’s cock twitches against his and he licks his lips, baring his teeth as he simpers. “And you like it.” 

“This – this could be too much for the orb in my chest – no matter how stabilized it is. I could be in danger of exploding, quite literally.”

Sweet Gale, exaggerating and trying to do the right thing, however late – and fruitless – at this point. If they stop now , what difference does it make?

“What a delightful death we could have,” Astarion ignores him, before he sways his hips and lines their cocks even closer together.

Gale whines as Astarion reaches over to put his palms on top of Gale’s, guiding them to wrap around both of their cocks. He gathers up more spit in his mouth to drool over each one; they both shudder as they squeeze their lengths together, sticky cock against sticky cock, threads of precum connecting their heads during the seconds they separate. Their cocks slide together, slippery with Astarion’s spit and Gale’s precum, rocking jointly in an ungraceful motion. Gale’s clearly overly stimulated, but Astarion doesn’t let up, he can’t even if he wanted to – he is a man, no, a creature possessed – he pumps faster, rougher, and makes their cocks push up harder into their palms. 

“Astarion,” Gale chokes out, and he sounds so wrecked, it’s almost enough to convince Astarion that he’s under the influence of the same spittle as well. Gale’s head hits backwards on his pillow, eyes rolling as Astarion’s wild stare burns deep into him, unable to look away from his face. “Ah, I can’t –” 

“You can,” Astarion breathes, stroking and tightening their grips on their cocks painfully. “There’s absolutely nothing you can’t do. You’re the great Gale of Waterdeep. Bí buachaill maith, agus tar chugam.” 

Be a good boy, and come for me.

Immediately, Gale keens and his whole body lifts off, thick pearly streaks of his cum spraying across his stomach and chest. Astarion quickly follows with his own orgasm, panting, drooling over Gale, eyes fluttering with satisfaction. “There you go,” Astarion breathes, milking Gale through his tremors, nearly unphased by the way his own muscles constrict and release like a spring. “You deserve it for being so helpful. My little laoch .” My little hero.

And even after Gale is done, when he’s shaking and cumdrunk from emptying himself, Astarion strokes his raw and still hard length against Gale’s softening cock, playing with the cum pooling between them. Astarion swipes his sticky fingers through their cum and brings them to his lips, sliding them deep into his mouth. He makes a show of lapping between his fingers, holding eye contact with Gale, who is so delightfully flushed he looks like he can barely breathe. Gods, he is so pretty like this. 

“When were you going to tell me you were so delicious?” 

Gale shudders in sensitivity as Astarion goes back to swirling his thumb over Gale’s cockhead, rubbing up and down their cocks. He’s so unbearably hard, he thinks madly that he’s going to have to slit his wrists and force some of his tainted blood into Gale’s mouth to make him understand. “Astarion, for the Gods sake,” Gale stutters, trying to regain his coherency and attempting to pull away. “I’m not in an altered state like you – t-there’s nothing left from me.”

The utterly detestable thought of ignoring Gale crosses his mind, and Astarion is tempted to listen to it. To give into the sickly demand of his body. He thinks he would kill for it, could kill for it: to flip Gale over and hook his fingers around his pink lips and plunge his cock inside and fuck him deep until there’s nothing left, nowhere to go, until one of them – it doesn’t matter which – sobs from it, passes out from it.

No, he thinks, horrified.

Rational. Be rational. Think. 

It’s the spittle. 

He needs it gone , Astarion tells himself, it’s making him drag this out, glossing over the uncomfortable reality that’s bound to settle in between them after all is said and done. His jaw tenses as he looks down at Gale, nervous, jelly-soft, not anywhere near fucked out like Astarion desperately wants. 

“Fine, fine. I think there’s another way I could flush the rest out…” Astarion murmurs, eyeing Gale’s neck. 

“My blood ? Let me remind you that it's not exactly a delicacy, Astarion.” 

“It doesn’t matter – the weave magic pulsing through has to be strong enough to combat what’s in my body.” 

“If you think you can choke it down,” Gale takes a deep inhale. “Far be it from me to prolong your… condition. Intriguing to see how my blood interacts with yours, given the current circumstances, but don’t expect me to do anything if it happens to set you on fire, or something of the sort…”

There is no gentleness to it – no trepidation like the night when Astarion first grazed his two tips against Tav’s neck. Hardly a second passes by before his sharp nails dig into Gale’s shoulders, pinning him down, fangs sinking into his neck with reckless abandon. Astarion draws in deep, greedy pulls of blood and Gale’s pulsing life source gushes into his mouth and down his throat, bizarre and laced with a sharp, arcane bitterness. He chokes after the first few gulps, pulling away to suck in air, “Hells –” 

Gale wobbles his head at him. Despite the pain in his neck, he’s concerned.

“Astarion, are you–” 

He snakes his fingers through Gale’s hair and forcefully yanks his head back, baring his neck again. Astarion’s teeth pierces the flesh once more, latching on and swallowing despite the intensity of it prickling down his throat like jagged shards of glass, driven solely by the way Gale’s blood thrums with furious energy. Small trails of blood drip out from his mouth, sliding down his chin as he desperately drinks and drinks. He delights in the whimpers it draws from Gale and rubs his cock against his stomach, angling for another release like an animal.  Astarion feels like he could suck the very soul out of Gale, steal it for himself, fit it right within his chest, he wants to, he wants to, he wants to. When Gale slides a hand up his abdomen and wraps his fingers around his cock, a moan gurgles from Astarion’s throat, and his thoughts fizzle out as he completely surrenders to the feeling. 

His body surges forward with all the grace of a rabid creature as Gale pumps his cock vigorously and clumsily, biting down pained noises as Astarion sucks and sucks from the juncture of his neck. He groans something guttural, and then, he comes so hard his vision blacks out entirely. His cock shoots out ropes of cum across Gale’s body, marking his thighs and stomach, causing a sticky, mess between them. 

The world finally, finally starts to slowly realign.

He feels utterly weightless as he retracts his fangs from Gale’s tender flesh. They’re both perspiring profusely, sweat pouring from their bodies, panting against each other in the stillness of his tent. When his ears stop buzzing, he can hear Gale’s thundered pulse ringing a vibrant rhythm in his ears and – it’s beautiful. It’s so alive . Astarion doesn’t want to mourn the loss of it yet, holding on to that crackly feeling beating unsteady around him. He presses their chests and thighs together, bringing a trembling hand up, smearing what’s left of the blood on his jaw into his mouth, pressing it along his tongue and against his gums. 

“Your blood tastes so…” Astarion closes his eyes. He mulls it over, tracing around the ridges of his mouth, under the tip of his fangs. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever had . I’m not sure what the right word would be. Nauseating. Or perhaps revolting?” “Don’t act like I didn’t caution you.”

“Rancid? Putrid? Could be used as a torture method for prisoners of war?” 

“Alright, you’ve made your point very clear. I sincerely apologize that my blood is not to your refined taste.” 

“Hmm. Well. Taste can be acquired.” 

Astarion leans his head in and licks at the wound, contemplating it as Gale shivers around him, a hand snaking up to his waist with a firm squeeze. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. If you think that’s happening again,” Gale says, with the world’s worst conviction, “You’re sorely mistaken.” He waves his shaky hand, muttering a spell quietly, and then, the both of them are clean from the mess they've made of each other. 

Even though he’s wired , Astarion’s simultaneously exhausted. He could retort something about how Gale should be afraid – should feel absolutely foolish – now that he’s gotten a taste of what it means to be filled with such special, arcane energy. Now that he knows how it feels to actually enjoy making someone come undone under him. That perhaps Gale has made an addict out of him, in more ways than one.

He could tell him all that, and it would all be true. But he’ll settle for being honest about something much more mundane. 

“You know what was good?”

“Do tell me, Astarion, I’m dying to hear all your revelations tonight.” 

“For once, everyone was right about one thing. Your stew, darling, it was delicious, I’ll never doubt your culinary skills again.” 

“Well, I already knew that, but I’m glad you’re admitting it. Maybe next time you won’t run away if I happen to offer you some sourdough.”

“Only if you leave the bread slicing to someone else,” Astarion snorts as he draws away from the nape of Gale’s neck, exposing the fresh wound to air. He pushes himself off from his chest and falls to the side, draping his legs lazily around the other man’s legs, resting a head on his shoulder. 

“I’m completely drained – pun intended, ” Gale mumbles, “And not too righteous to admit that I can't keep my eyes open…” 

There is so much of Gale in his veins that Astarion is sure that he will burst if he moves even an inch, that it will all leak out of his chest, a violaceous firecracker just waiting to erupt from every pore in his body. Yet it’s the way that his legs are gracelessly hooked around Gale’s thighs that makes it all die down. He wraps himself a little more around the sanctuary of Gale’s body, sinking into the embrace. There’s no chance that he’s getting up any time soon; he’s on a cloud, bathed in sunlight, and there’s no more scorching pain. Just warmth, and only the right amount of it. 

Three breaths are all it takes for Gale to slip into the realm of sleep, and Astarion stiffens at the unfamiliar concept of spending the night with him. “Gale,” he whispers.

Even his name fizzes on Astarion’s tongue. 

When Gale doesn’t stir, Astarion thinks it would be unkind to disturb him any further. Not that being kind really matters at all to him, but, well. I’ll blame it on the spittle in the morning, he thinks, hypnotized by the gentle, barely there rhythm of Gale’s heartbeat and the rapid torrent of magic coursing through his own veins. 

Before he realizes it, he slips away too. 

[elvisabutler]

whole lotta woman needs a whole lot more

summary: austin's always been good with his mouth. austin normally is clean shaven. bikeriders means no shaving. you reap the benefits. fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x female plus sized reader ( you can read it in a non-plus sized way, but i specifically intended for it to be plus sized ) word count: 2087 warnings: facesitting. minor implications of sub austin. reader and austin mildly being simps for each other. semi-inexperienced reader in the realm of female oral? oh! also oral ( f receiving ). austin's facial hair because bikeriders is designed to make us all feral. author's note: welcome to day 26 of kinktober, facesitting with austin butler. this is late as all hell and took me longer than i intended but i do quite enjoy this piece. ideally i'm going to have more pieces out this weekend, possibly being able to finish off kinktober ( or kinkvember i guess now? ) but we'll see.

You have always been a little iffy on facial hair. Sometimes some men will pull it off beautifully, others just- well it looks like a sad collection of peach fuzz. As it turns out, Austin is someone who doesn't necessarily prefer growing out his facial hair so it's never been something you've had to necessarily worry about thinking about the particulars. Even when he did, it was more of a shadow of true facial hair or facial hair for a part. It was something easily dealt with.

Your friends though, your friends swore that you wouldn't have lived until Austin grew out his facial hair properly and ate you out. They knew that you and Austin- after a great deal of trial and error discovered a way to indulge in oral that made you feel comfortable with it. Austin had told you that it didn't necessarily matter how he got off- if he got off when he was eating you out because in his mind, that act was about pleasuring you versus pleasuring himself. So your comfort with the act was the only thing that truly mattered. It's why he had led you slowly into it, first on a couch, then at the edge a chair and a countertop and finally the edge of the bed and the bed itself. You've never tried to just ride his face in the bed but- you know why. You both know why even if you won't put it into words and Austin respects you enough not to push.

Still you figure everyone is being a bit silly about the whole thing when it comes to facial hair and oral. It couldn't be that different and even if it was, it was likely more uncomfortable than anything else, after all, beard burn on your face was bad, you couldn't imagine it on your vagina and on your thighs.

Austin had warned you that he might look a little different during your last phone call with him, a short affair that had him shouting that he was coming hold on to someone in the background and you wishing not for the first time lately that Austin had used FaceTime to call you even though he had said the reason he didn't is because one of you was always doing something that required you to not have the camera on anyway. So you had prepared yourself for at best a bit of fuzz on his face. Perhaps his hair was getting long enough that it was inching toward the long hair you kind of missed. Maybe his muscles had gotten a little larger, you figured, all the better to lift you up and keep you in his arms for longer. What greeted you in your kitchen when you came home from grocery shopping was genuinely nothing you could have even imagined.

"Hey baby." His voice sounds tired-exhausted even- but his eyes light up as he takes you in, taking note of the sundress you have on and wondering if you knew he'd show up and see you in it, see you lighting up his whole world. God, he had missed you.

Your eyes take in the way Austin's worrying his lower lip between his teeth and as a consequence your eyes also take in his facial hair. You had never seen him with this much, it's a whole goatee and beard combination that has your breath catching in your throat. You mange to squeak out a word in response. "Hi."

Austin's brow quirks up as he tilts head at your strange response. He's been gone this long and shows up looking this different and your response is just a single "hi"? That didn't make sense at all and so he looks at you, eyes trailing from your feet all the way up to your face. He stops at your chest for a moment, seeing how you seem to be taking slow measured breaths that you only take when you're turned on and wanting to hide the fact. When his eyes settle on your face he notices how your eyes are a little lidded and if he got close enough he's pretty sure he could see that your pupils are likely blown. Oh, so that was the problem. He could take that, he could enjoy that.

"Hi." He grins back at you, walking closer to you, pushing you against the counter and using his body to bracket yours against it. "Missed me?"

You bite your lip, breathing in through your nose like that will help the overwhelming desire you feel forming in the pit of your stomach. Austin's still looking at you with a glint in his eyes that has you very quickly realizing that you're going to need to answer him because he wil not let it go if you don't. Not trusting your voice, you nod.

His grin- the charming grin you're used to that's made you fall to your knees before morphs into a smirk as he bends his head down to kiss your neck, making sure his facial hair brushes against you. It's softer than you thought it would be and yet at the same time you can feel the burn of it, feel how it drags along your sensitive neck. Your breathing quickens.

"You missed me a lot, didn't you? You like the new look?" He murmurs against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw where he just lazily mouths at it.

Your next breath is shaky as if it's trying and failing to contain every desire just looking at Austin's face is inspiring in you. It takes a moment but you finally are able to speak. "I do? Surprisingly? It's a good look on you."

The words come out in a rush and Austin chuckles lowly, his hand drifting down to between your legs, ruching up your dress until he can feel your underwear covered cunt. His fingers dance on the edge of the fabric. "You do?" He moves the underwear to the side just a bit before allowing a single finger of his to enter you. A hiss escapes your lips.

"I do." You choke out, your hips rolling just a bit. "Austin?"

"Hm?" He hums, allowing his finger to leisurely play with your folds, to trace them just slightly while smiling softly at you.

"If you don't pick me up and take me to bed, I think I may die in this kitchen. Or murder you, I don't know which." You spit out in a rush before biting at your lips and feeling a hint of shame at how quickly you said it. That shame is quickly overcome when you see just how delighted Austin is looking at you after you say it and how quickly- and easily- he lifts you up to carry you to the bed.

It's a flurry of thrown clothes and while you had planned on getting on the bed first, somehow Austin had beaten you and was staring at you with a look of dangerous intent on his face. You gaze at him with a frown before he speaks.

"i want you to sit on my face, baby." He says bluntly, his spit covered hand stroking his already hard cock, smearing precum and spit on the head. You shake your head before he holds up his hand. "No, I- please, baby, let me do it. Let me feel you fully on my face like that, no half in and half out sort of thing."

"Aus-" You start before you see his face. His stupid face pouting and looking more angelic than he has any right to look when his cock is in his hand.

"Please." He begs with one simple word and you find yourself sighing and moving to position yourself. Austin for his part shimmies down the bed enough to make it comfortable for both of you. Your thighs bracket his head, and you find yourself holding your body up too scared to actually sit as you look down at Austin.

"Austin- you- we- I don't want to-" You start and stop your sentence a million times. You're not self conscious about your weight, far from it, you've embraced it as a part of you, a part you know Austin adores. But you also know the realities of things, know that there's more to you than some girls and that can be a problem if you're going to be on top of someone. "We can just do it the normal way."

Austin's eyes tear themselves away from your practically dripping cunt with a low growl as he looks up at your face. "Stop worrying that you're going to suffocate me and sit on my face, babe."

"What if you need-" The question dies on your lips as Austin grabs at your thighs, his fingers digging in just a way that has you gasping.

"I'll tap these gorgeous thighs of yours and you'll get up. Babe. Darling- It's fine. I want to do this, I need to do this for you." Austin tone inches toward pleading as he grips your thighs tight enough that you know there's likely to be some bruising and you find you don't mind. You take a shaky breath as you lower yourself slowly, feeling at first the scratch of his facial hair, feeling it tickle your skin lightly but then you feel Austin's very familiar tongue and you find yourself sinking down lower, reveling in how Austin groans against your cunt, his tongue starting to move in the way that's familiar to you. It feels as if he's deeper- or if he's more involved. His nose brushes against your clit as he licks at you like a starving man, trying to savor every last bit of your arousal. His facial hair does not- burn as everyone seems to describe, instead providing a tickle- an added sensation as you focus on letting yourself go. In normal circumstances you wouldn't grind on Austin's face, finding it to be a little strange when he's got you hanging off the edge of the bed or the counter or wherever but now in this moment, you can't help the way your hips start to grind against Austin's mouth. He growls, his teeth nipping at your clit earning a sharp inhale and a choked off whimper from your lips. The quicker you feel his mouth move the more you're spurred on to grind, to chase the high your boyfriend is bringing you. You haven't felt him tap your thigh so you think you're safe- you marvel at why you ever stopped Austin from doing this before.

Maybe you were just waiting for the right time, maybe you were just waiting for this particular time when his face isn't clean shaven, when it's not just stubbled, no he's got actual facial hair you can play with, you can rub your hand and your cunt against. Your hands move down to his hair, finding purchase there as you feel his tongue sliding against you in just the right way and you feel yourself falling. Your orgasms normally take enough to build up to that you can sense them before they come but this hits you like a truck, barreling through your body and causing you to groan so low you swear you reach another register of your voice. Austin's tongue still is flicking against your twitching cunt, stimulating you in a way that is inching toward being too much so you force your legs to try and work, pulling Austin's hands off your thighs and moving off of his face.

You can see your fluids glistening against his beard, turning the shade of blonde just a bit darker in a way it only does when his hair is wet. It makes you feel a little- well, feral, to be honest something about the image pinging a territorial beast inside you that has you wanting to see that over and over before he has to shave it off. The thoughts you find yourself indulging in while looking at him are cut short but Austin's tiny laugh as he shifts and pulls you on top of him, a low sound coming from his chest.

"We'll talk more about that look I see on your face later. Think you can ride me a second time, baby?"

You grin and pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips and smelling yourself in his facial hair. "And a third if you're lucky, Mr. Butler."

[muzansfangs]

Hello! I am new to the demon slayer fandom but I just finished up season 3 so far and I am in love with Douma!

Could I possibly request headcanons on what he would like in a partner, like personality wise? I know he’s clinically apathetic and the only time he felt something was with shinobu, so he’s capable of it! But what would his partner be like to make him feel the same way? To make him love and care for them?

Preferably a demon reader if ya don’t mind!

If you don’t feel comfortable writing that that’s totally fine!! Thank you!!

What Douma seeks in a partner.

Starring: Douma x f!reader (both human and demon).

Warnings: none, basically fluff and a little innuendo to sex, because it’s Douma we are talking about.

Format: head canons

Plot: what does Douma seeks in a partner? What peculiar traits she posses that pique his interest? Are there any differences between a demon s/o and a human s/o?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

If you are a demon…

• Douma is probably attracted to you for your physical appearence, at first. He is a simple man from that point of view: he likes you, he is going to get you. Obviously, his lack of emotions and empathy are going to make things hard, especially since you would struggle to grasp whatever is crossing his mind, or understand the meaning of his actions. The only hint you would be able to take is his clinginess. He becomes your shadow. Wherever you are, he is.

• Douma would not mind it if his partner was weaker than him. Actually, there is an high possibility that you cannot keep up with him. He possesses the rank of Upper Moon Two, after all. This might grant him the chance to protect you and, consequentially, to make him show you that he genuinely cares for you.

• When it comes to the kind of personality he would adore to find in his partner, Douma would seek devotion and respect. He is used to be worshipped as a living god. He is well-educated too, which means he would probably enjoy long conversations about philosophical and mystical concepts, especially regarding the meaning life. Two immortal beings could easily indulge in such topics. Despite being goofy, even around Lord Muzan, he is the type of guy who could easily focus his attention on you and display a vast knowledge on various subjects.

• If Douma finds his perfect match, he would probably open up about his inability to feel emotions and understand feelings. Therefore, if he feels comfortable around you, he will have no troubles in expressing his doubts and questions about sensations, behaviors and reactions he cannot comprehend. What he indeed seeks in a partner is acceptance.

• Since his significant other is a demon too, he would have no troubles in letting you join him during his meals. He knows that a demon cannot be horrified by the act of eating human flesh. He would not mind if you were a ferocious, greedy demon as well. If you cannot seem to get enough, he would probably spoil you by giving you the full access to his followers in the Temple. His cheerful nature would probably make him say something among the lines of “Please, darling, choose your next meal! They are all quite tasty!”.

• If you loved to mess around like him, that would mean stepping into a real Paradise for him. Testing other demons’s patience? Annoying Akaza? If you even suggested him something like that, he would probably turn you into the divinity worshipped into his Cult.

• Sometimes, he might not understand why you seem to be so rough towards the slayers trying to kill you. He is not only an Upper Moon, but the second strongest demon after Muzan. This and his natural predisposition for being apathetic lead him not to take most of his battles seriously. On the other hand, you are feral and your instinct makes you want to end your battles quickly, most likely in a bloodbath, because you truly risk your neck. However, this is not a problem. Douma likes this wicked part of you.

• The fact that he does not need to really watch over you because your demonic nature grants you some indipendence is quite fine for him. He wants you to rely on him, sure, but he does not mind you taking care of your business on your own. He likes your determination.

• The fact that you are a demon means that you are not completely submissive by nature. The slightest hint of defiance and dominace, especially in the privacy of your chambers, is appreciated.

If you are a human…

• Douma does not mind your mortality. Once again, this man sees the beauty in your features before anything else. Your fragility makes you look so lovely and delicate in his eyes. He would have constant need to have you around him, to watch over you and make sure you do not get hurt. You are like a little gem to be treasured and he knows how to keep you safe from people that are not him. He needs and wants to be the only danger in your life.

• His human significant other has be devoted, as previously mentioned, but he wants her to be kind and generous above anything else. The innocence in her eyes would kind of tickle something into his dull, apathetic heart. He would seek her attention, her touch and, sometimes, simply her presence. He could spend hours contemplating you.

• His ideal partner should somehow be dependant on him. He would not mind taking care of her and he believes actions can be a tangible, unconfutable proof of his love for you. He does not struggle at all in dedicating his existence to find the most romantic words to whisper in his lover’s ear, but he conscious about the fact that they might sound a tad too much saccharine, coming from someone as emotionless as him.

• If his darling is grateful for what he does for her, he would feel like the luckiest man alive. He would seek acceptance from his lover. If you want to stay by his side, and do not end up like his former potential love interests, then you should learn to live with the fact that he is a demon. If you do, he might be kind enough not to slaughter and consume his followers in front of you. Show him gratitude and love and he will make you his queen.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! It looks like I have finally been able to fulfill a request! I am so sorry for the delay, but inspiration comes and goes. I will try to take care of the requests waiting in my inbox and being gradually covered by dust, lmao. I hope you enjoy this, dear anon. Likes, comments and re-posts are appreciated!

Until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @doumadono @doumaslotus @koyuki-the-flower @mrskokushibo my lovely mutuals and Douma’s simps❤️

[thesimpsbasement]

Hello! May I request Vil, Kalim, Malleus and Azul with a male! s/o who’s like Sherlock Holmes or William Moriarty? As in reader is very intelligent and stuff

Hello anon and sure! I sorta alternated between the 2 cuz didn't know how to incorporate both but I hope this is to your liking!

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Kalim Al Asim,Malleus Draconia,Azul Ashengrotto

Author:Mod Betty

Warnings/tags: slight spoilers for book 3,5 ( mainly spoilers on book 5) ,not proofreaded yet

Reader is male

Word count:1,300 words 

_____________________________

-The first time he noticed your high intelligence was when you actually memorized every item for the skin routine he recommended you

-It took Epel forever to memorize them all and still forgets some

-During VDC he knew you'd be problem because he knew you'd probably see right through his plan and his concerns were correct as you were the one to inform Jamil way before he himself noticed Vil's odd behaviors

-Vil does care a lot about things being perfect, one minute mistake could end in a catastrophe

-You agree with Vil on that but sometimes you rather study than do a self care routine, maybe on your breaks you could add a couple products but not enough to meet Vil's standards

-Vil did admire your determined to adapt to this strange world by learning about it as much as possible, but what he doesn't admire is your lack of self care

-Sometimes he drags you out of your room to do a proper self care regiment

-Like the one you are currently doing

-" For someone who's such a genius you can be quite a forgetful potato" Vil says as he rubs some sort of cream on your face

"Apologies by I can't help but simply indulge of the common things in thought world taht would be deemed impossible in mine" you replied hoping to somewhat justifying your actions every though you knew it wouldn't

" I understand your excitement but you do need to take proper care of yourself,you may deem this unnecessary but I disagree completely and as your lover I'm even more complied to do this" he retorted continuing to apply product to your face

"Oh how lucky i am to have someone to spoil me like this, I'm moved" you tease,smile on your face

" The real lucky one is me to have a brilliant and sometimes forgetful boyfriend like yourself "

-When he found out about your intelligence he was in awe

-you were so cool and not mean like Riddle and you were easier to approach Unlike Malleus

-Jamil is wary of you for a good while knowing how easily Kalim is influenced but you weren't heartless to use someone's kindness

-Kalim is the type to brag about you like " Look how smart my boyfriend is so if you ever need help go ask him!"

-And he wasn't lying,ever since hanging out with(and dating) you he's been improving in his academics and would always would go to you if he needed assistance, saving Jamil from extra work( which he thanks you for)

-Being in a new world made everything surprise you but also defied the logic of your own world so when Kalim offered you a ride on a magic carpet you were skeptical

-I mean a carpet couldn't hold the weight of well anything so it being able to carry 2 people is already taboo and also how can you control it's direction and spee-

-Before you could finish your train of thoughts and how the pure concept contradicts basic physics Kalim pulled your arm and seated you on the carpet

-The first minute you were nervous as hell,who could blame you, you were literally flying on a carpet!

-After the initial shock the ride was actually relaxing and fun

-You never thought you'd ever find yourself flying around on a magic carpet flying around but you don't mind it

-Turning to Kalim who was looking at you the whole time to make sure you're enjoying yourself, you put a hand on his cheek before saying "thank you for showing me something I would never have thought of" and pulling him for a kiss

-Kalim was overjoyed knowing he actually managed to 1) surprised you and 2) make you feel happy

-Safe to say there's never a dull moment with Kalim

-He knew you were smart by simply observing how well you performed in class

-A magicless human from a completely different dimension did better than most of the NRC students

-What caught him by surprise was when you knew his true identity almost as soon as you saw him

-What confused him was that you were still referring to him as that silly nickname you came up with

-Even if you're smart and probably have some combat abilities you still couldn't stand a chance

-When confronting you about it all you did was smirk ad say " Don't worry I know a foe when I see one "

-Also good luck having to deal with Sebek since he's suspicious of you and your wits. Who knows maybe you were trying to fool the young master!!

-Would often come by Ramshackle and talk about each other's lives

-He was quite fascinated by your life back home,always solving mysteries and how capable you were in dire situations

-He doesn't necessarily need help in academics especially being the next heir of Briar Valley but would often ask you for help with other stuff ((*cough* technology ))

-For a mere child of man and from a foreign land you have a lot of knowledge to almost rival some fae

-Despite knowing you can handle yourself just fine you're still a fragile human with no magic so he will occasionally loom around the shadows,sometimes your sharp tongue could easily infuriate students from a certain dorm,After all Savanaclaw students don't settle arguments with words,but with their fists but when they pull their magic pens Malleus quickly steps in to stop the fight before you got hurt because of some buffoons

-After the students ran off, you turned to him a smile on your face " I could've handled them myself you know, even if they can use magic they're still brainless" Malleus chuckled " I suppose so however I don't think I'd forgive myself if you did end up hurt" he said sighing

-" How about we go to Ramshackle after class for a cup of tea? My treat" you suggested

-"Anything for you ,my brilliant child of man"

-The first thing he noticed about you was how calm you were when you signed that contract about bringing that painting from the museum, it was almost as if you had a plan already and were confident it'll succeed

-Seeing how brilliant you were and how you could easily make things go your way he actually suggested working in Mostro Lounge

-Would sometimes challenge you to see who's better,be it who'd give a better offer on contracts or who'd finish homework quicker

-During closing hours he'd offer you a cup of tea and discuss whatever topics you thought of

-When dating your counseling started coming into play

-After some time Azul started getting comfort with being vulnerable around you, often pouring his insecurities as he stared at his lap

-" Sometimes I feel like you deserve better" he muttered not making eye contact with you

"Why do you say that love?" You ask him ,serious look on your face

"I mean someone as brilliant as you shouldn't stick around a stupid,fat,clumsy octopus" he said slight irritation in his voice

You sighed as you placed your hands on his shoulders " Azul look at me" ,hesitantly he did as he was told,teary eyes looking right into your

"The fact I'm your boyfriend should be telling you enough that I'm not going anywhere, I don't stick with people that I don't want too, so if I didn't like you I wouldn't be sitting in this very room now would I?" You said trying to comfort your partner without any sort of sugared words but with pure logic

-"Yeah I guess you're right" Azul said wiping his tears

-Smiling you kiss his forehead has you bring him into a hug " so please cease these idiotic thoughts for both our sake ,you know it pains me to see you this upset"

[lavenderr-starrs]

I’m sorry to my mutuals who are watching me like disappear for a week or a month and then reappear reblog stuff and post stuff from fandoms you’ve probably don’t even know about (A lot shit on my plate that’s been burning me out lmao! I’m fine though just been busy dw!! It’s nothing bad I promise even though it probably sounds like smth bad XD)

but I’m gonna make this post before I literally lose my marbles

It’s about twisted wonderland and Madoka magica so strap in fellas this is gonna be hella targeted to probably me and me alone and maybe like one other person

Anyways HEAVY AND I MEAN HEAVY SPOILERS FOR BOTH FRANCHISES and A REALLY LONG RAMBLE UNDER THE CUT LMAO

So don’t click keep reading if you havent finished or started either (ESPECIALLY MADOKA MAGICA, Trust me the show and movies are so good walking into blind I’d kill a man to watch it blindly again) also warning for potentially shit grammar incoming lol

First things first-

HOW HAVE I NOT SEEN SOMEONE NOTICE THE SIMILARITY BETWEEN OVERBLOTS AND WITCHES?

The similarities is the over-use of magic and negative energy polluting the energy source they use to performing these magical abilities turning them into abominations that go on a rampage and effecting the lives of those around them.

The difference though is that for witches, it’s specifically middle school girls who become witches and them becoming witches have the chances of causing world ending atrocities- and in the world of puella magi most Natural disasters are due to the fact a witch is the cause of those disasters and only incubators and other unsuspecting naive magical girl know of

Whereas in twisted wonderland *So far* we’ve only seen Teen high school boys overblot and that didn’t(Besides chapter 6 and 7) have any world ending consequences in my opinion

Says alot huh? XD

Anyways that’s a point I wanna get to another time

You know what I’d love to see? a reader-insert or just a yuu from puella magi in the world of twisted wonderland!

Now this is when I start getting real self-indulgent with this XD but I wanna see like a Homura!Yuu! :)

basically a reader-insert who takes the role of Homura Akemi, right?

And the entirety of the first anime happens and Madoka goes from a 14 year old girl who made a wish to save a cat from dying by unknowingly trading her soul to become a magical girl as an energy source to a higher being

to end up becoming an omnipotent concept that saves magical girls when their gems over pollute and are about to become witches

But instead of the Rebellion Arc happening and Homura!Yuu becoming a witch and demon and all that pizazz! let’s say they “try” to keep going and just Bans themselves from going back in time again and trying to go forward for Madokamis sake and deals with those weird wraith things in the new universe

and maybe a little cherry on top they try to learn and expand the magic abilities Yuus other magical girl friends had.

Later on we move to let’s say, 17 Year old Homura!Yuu, and guess what? You’ve been isekaid bestie have fun!

During the prologue introduction, when Homura!Yuu wakes up into the coffin grim doesn’t get a moment to even open the coffin as you just kick it open ready to transform believing this is some form of a witches labyrinth and are ready to jump into a bunch of conclusions

Now, in comes a poor unsuspecting Grimm

And the first thing Homura!Yuu does upon notice of him? The same thing Homura did to Bebe in rebellion-

just one Quick grasp onto his neck and just instantly slamming him into the nearest wall before he could even say a word. Questions being shot left and right over this potential Witch-like being or a being that seems to be similar combination of a witches Familiar+ Kyubey. A thought you do not like the sound of.

Grim is quite fairly, terrified out of his mind (I’m sorry my son) But! Lucky for him in comes the headmaster to witness this display of aggression! And school hasn’t even begun yet! The nerve!

Now this can go from here in Multiple ways, but for now, how id see it going is Crowley using his whip to tie up Homura!Yuu and just yoinks up a scared grim similar to what Mami did in rebellion

you’re only reaction to this is “Ah shit, here we go again.”

Now I can see Crowley ends up kicking Grim away still since you’ll obviously deny any association with him and just questions Crowley like there’s no tomorrow and just like in canon those questions fall on deaf ears! Lol

Crowley believes that coming to night raven college has frazzled your young hormonal teenage mind into acting so aggressive and since he’s such a kind and generous headmaster does not hold you accountable for it, isn’t he so wonderful c:

Homura!Yuu ends up quietly playing along to whatever the hell is going on to get a better and proper assessment on the situation you’ve been put in. So everything continues on as normal while the students of NRC give you a strange look until it’s finally your turn to approach the mirror.

How I’d see the mirror react to a Homura!Yuu is once you give it your name, I feel like he’d go “their soul is..Missing?..” Because as you know your soul has been turned into your soul gem and the mirror has no knowledge of this so you’re not gonna be assigned any dorm, sorry not sorry c:

This, understandable, freaks everybody out.

This is when Canon plays out a usual in the story for the prologue with the headmaster taking you to Ramshackle and you’re Re-encounter with Grim.

When you do encounter grim again you transform again and start to chase after him to continue where you left off back in the mirror chamber. This leads to Homura!Yuu discovering grim to be innocent in your arrival here and just simply… wants to be able to grow stronger.. hmm why do you feel like you’ve heard that before

Upon Grim proving his innocence and quite frankly become official scared of Homura!Yuu in comes the ghosts to scare him some more! They watch you chase him down and wanted to join in on the fun.

Mind you, you aka Homura!Yuu are still on guard and still transformed so you obviously attack the ghost with grim ending believing you attacked them for his protection! You didn’t, but if it makes up for scaring the piss outta him sure 👍 well go with that.

Now we continue with canon from here with Crowley calling you a beast tamer and hiring you as a janitor yadda yadda, but Grim ends up referring to you as his Bodyguard instead of henchman in this one! Which if Homura!Yuu was going to be honest, Grim was 1,000 percent a bigger improvement then kyubey.

I totally wanna make a side writing blog and make more stuff like this if it gathers the attention of others lol, I already have it made I just need to edit it along with my other side account where I used to post art until I took them down due to tumblrs Ai update lol

Once I’m done fixing up those two I’ll make a master post with the users of all three of my blogs and my ao3 too lol

Anyways thanks for reading my weird ass ramble :) I have so many ideas I wanna talk about for this and so many story scenarios that probably no one’s gonna be interested in XDD

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn’t die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 17/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake, Donna Troy

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Seventeen: The Campaign: Malatra Pt. 1

Tim slept in his bed one last time while I packed our things. My phone rang, and I answered to keep from waking Tim up. “Hello?” I whispered. 

“Jason, I heard about your friend’s mother—.”

“You don’t have to say anything… Um, Barbara, can I ask you for a favor?” I interrupted. 

“I don’t know. It depends… Is it illegal?” Barbara asked. 

“No. It’s—. I need you to help me get back in fighting shape. I know Bruce won’t change his mind because I can throw a couple of solid punches, but I’ve gotta do this for myself. I need to know I didn’t let the accident beat me,” I explained. I told her as much of the truth as I could. 

“Jason… Wednesday through Friday after school. No excuses,” Barbara replied. I grinned. 

“I’ll be there. I promise,” I whispered, “Thank you. Thank you, Barbara. You’re the best.” Barbara was a tough person to move. She wasn’t emotionally driven or faint of heart. Barbara was sharp and efficient. Practical and poised. She was everything I needed in a teacher. 

“ Yeah, yeah, yeah. See how you feel about me after our first training session. Bye, Jason… And good on you for getting back up. I thought about what I said to you the last time we talked. I was wrong to tell you that you were being childish. If taking this time away from home was good for your mental health, who am I to tell you—?”

“Barbara, I am a kid. I never said I wasn’t. I was pissed off and closed in, and I reacted. I was in a dark place, and I’d be lying if I said I wanted to go home now… I know it’s what I have to do. I’m gonna be mature about it, for Tim’s sake,” I replied, “I’ve gotta finish packing… But, um—. Thank you, Barbara.” 

“Don’t thank me yet, Boy Wonder. See you Wednesday,” Barbara teased. She hung up, and I shook Tim awake. 

He pushed my face away and laughed. “ Uggghhh. Jason, what are you doing?” Tim asked. 

“She’s gonna train me. Wednesday through Friday, so we’ll condition Saturday through Monday,” I replied. Tim grinned. 

“And on Tuesday ?” Tim half-joked. 

“Warlocks and Warriors,” I replied, “And—. Oh, Ives wants to come over tonight. I gave him Bruce’s address and said he could stay the night.” 

“Ives wanted to hang out? Does he—?” 

I nodded. “Ives knows, but I asked him not to mention it… Unless…” I trailed off. Tim shook his head. “Then, he won’t…” I tied labels to Tim’s chargers and tucked them into his suitcase. 

*

We went to the manor at sunset because I knew Bruce wouldn’t be there. Alfred seemed happy to see us again. Ives showed up an hour after we got there, and Alfred served dinner. “Hey, guys… Do you wanna do another campaign here this weekend?” I asked. 

Tim’s eyes widened. “You want to?” Tim questioned. I nodded. 

“That’d be sick,” Ives replied.  

“Cool. Tell the guys Tuesday we’ll hang out here,” I replied. Ives glanced at Tim and looked at his plate when he saw me looking. Tim was oblivious to everything going on in his life because of everything. 

“Jason should DM this one,” Tim suggested. I choked. “Come on. You can do it. I see how deep you get into character. And you’re the only person willing to indulge Hudson. Besides, I think the guys are still mad at me for what happened in Ravenloft.” 

“That was messed up. I can’t believe you killed Ives first and swapped him out with a Doppelganger. That was sick. And Ives… I’m shocked you let him go through with that,” I replied. 

Tim smiled. I reached for my bed to pull myself up, but I felt a shockwave shoot down my back into my legs, and I let go of the mattress. “Jason?” Tim asked. 

“I’m okay… But like—. Are you guys sure you want me to DM?” I questioned. 

“Yeah, definitely,” Ives replied, “You’ve gotta try it at least once. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again, but you should give it a chance. You might be good.” 

*

"In the living forest lands of Malatra, all seems quiet. Suspiciously so. A warm breeze blows, rustling through the canopies overhead. Topiaries of smiling children surround a small fire. It is the only possible sign of life for several miles.  A song breaks through the near-silent forest. It starts low and guttural, like a collective groan, and then the ethereal choral collections of synchronized sobs. It is a song of mourning. A once-distant sound, now building as if it is approaching. The forest's dirt walkways slowly disappear under shrubs and bushes, and it seems like a trick to the eye at first, but no. You see it now. The bushes have feet where roots should be, and finally, a male voice breaks through the grieving chorus," I cleared my throat. "State your business," I bellowed. "He steps forward. A bamboo elf. His hair is a warm brown with the same red undertones of autumn leaves. He keeps his hair in wide and intricate waves and curls. His skin is an olivine green, and his eyes dark brown and ancient, study you. You all recognize this bamboo elf immediately, but before we get into that… you should introduce yourselves." A big, goofy grin spread across Tim's face. Silence fell over my room as I waited for someone to speak.

"You fucking killed it," Hudson mumbled in shock. I covered my smile. "Clay Everlake, earth genasi monk here. I'm stone grey, with bright green hair made of leaves, with the front pulled into a warrior's bun—."

"Man bun penalty!" everyone shouted.

"Is not! Anyway ... It's a warrior's bun, and the rest of my hair hangs leafy down my shoulders. I'm fairly young, rough and tumble, and trouble seems to follow me wherever I go," Hudson answered.

I gestured to Ives. "Eldrid Deepwood, here. I'm a firbolg druid... I uh—. I have bluish-green skin and dark eyes. My hair is whiteish-grey, luscious, and thick, almost mane-like. My ears are floppy... And uh—. And despite my advanced age, I'm a timid sort of fella," Ives stammered in an Irish accent.

I nodded and pointed to Hudman. "Fettar Keephorn. Dwarven rogue, dark beard, dark brown eyes.  My loyalties lie with Clay Everlake... Unfortunately," Hudman muttered in a dry voice. We all laughed. "I'm not much for words."

And Tim. I looked forward to Tim's character because we'd been pretty hush-hush about our plans all week, which meant we had nothing to discuss outside of training. "Posy Moonfall, gnome cleric here. I've got blond shoulder-length hair and grey eyes hidden behind foggy glasses. Well, they're usually quite—. I'm not used to being in the presence of a man of Mr. Deepwood's stature. I'm clumsy, but my intuitive nature makes up for my shortcomings... At least, I think—. Oh gosh. Am I rambling?" Tim replied in a woman's voice. He was surprisingly good at it. I almost forgot my place.

I cleared my throat before continuing. "Clay Everlake, your connection to this bamboo elf is deeply personal. Isn't it?" I asked, nodding at him. I liked Hudson. He always made me laugh and was my favorite of Tim's friends. He also tried to make me feel better about my scars by showing me the dent in his forehead. It wasn't the same, but he genuinely thought it was.

"He raised me. When my family was slaughtered on the outskirts of Malatra, he took me in and raised me. He's a father to me," Hudson answered. Hudson and I locked eyes, and I smiled down at my notes. "I didn't expect to see him under such grim circumstances."

"And Fettar?" I questioned.

"The elf and I… used to date,” Hudman replied. We all laughed.

“Fettar and Theren Everlake dated? You guys were—.” 

“A couple. Yep,” Hudman doubled down.

[meimi-haneoka]

I know my last report is so long...and technically, I could've summarized so many of those info in shorter paragraphs.

But it's all intentional. I really wanted to write their dialogues out as far as possible, because I've noticed something in the fandom. I'm pretty sure this is not limited to CLAMP but to 'public figures' in general, especially on the internet.

I've noticed a sort of tendency to dehumanize these four women. Sometimes I come across comments that make my skin crawl. People calling them names, insults, "these old hags", people who think these four women should only live to satisfy the fandom's hunger for content, or their fetishes. They don't consider (and even if they do, they do not seem to know what the words 'be indulgent' mean) these are four human beings who have their lives, wishes, preferences, shortcomings, health problems, or even not a 100% great mental space.

I admit I have "joked" with heavy terms in private too, in the past. But lately, especially after they started to open the Twitter Spaces, showing their more "raw, genuine side" to us, and ever since my JP skills allowed me to understand them better, I can't bring myself to do that anymore. It might be because I'm getting old too and I understand painfully well what it means to begin having problems related to age (for memory or even physical pain), and the love and care (and often pain) that lie behind a piece of artwork, but I just can't help empathizing with them. Hearing them joking among each other, knowing how much they care for one another like sisters, hearing them talking so humbly about their work even after such a long time, getting to know when they're feeling sick and knowing their struggles because on the workplace they're like a machine that can work well only if all the components are in good condition...it really really makes you realize how human they are.

I think the turning point for me was when I heard one of the personal Spaces Ohkawa opened every morning for a week, while she was having breakfast, talking about various topics. In one of the firsts, she apologized because you could hear the noise of the washing machine working on the background. It struck me so powerfully. This is not some kind of unapproachable, inaccessible person living on another existential plane, this is a normal, regular human being who writes stories for a job but who's got to do laundry like every other regular person on this earth. They might drink champagne and go to fancy restaurants (but Ohkawa in particular is a fan of McDonald's too) but that doesn't mean that they lost their humanity.

And I found myself not wanting to partake in this stupid game of dehumanizing them anymore. Actually, with my translations, I want to try to make people see what I see too. Make them feel the "vibe" through their own words, because you can understand so much of them through the words they often use. Ohkawa might look like this merciless and whimsical boss, but she actually just loves the stories she envisioned very much, and she's ready to go through a shitstorm to defend her choices on the workplace.

She just feels a bit guilty that when there's criticism of her choices, the work of her colleagues gets dragged down along, but they're all in this together and they stick to one another tightly.

I can only do these translations when it's about CCS because they're exhausting to me and take me so much time, so my "brainrot" helps me push through to finish them. But at least for that, I want to try to do this, when I can.

[sidekick-hero]

✨ fic writing review 2023 ✨

tagged by my homies (and as always fashionably late to the party): @judasofsuburbia @steddieas-shegoes @steddieasitgoes and @thefreakandthehair 💜💜💜💜

rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

words & fics

263,365 words published

40 fics published

Finished 3 multi-chaptered fics

top 5 fics by kudos

You know I'm a show off (I would let you get some): Pure, self-indulgent smut. My love letter to Steve Harrington's, well, everything. He's a goddamn tease in this and Eddie is along for the ride. Quite literally.

Louder: While laying in bed, the two of them can't help but overhear their upstairs neighbors going at it rather loudly. Eddie turns to Steve after a while, and asks, You wanna fuck louder than them to establish dominance? And that they do.

I’m tired of asking to settle the debt: my first ever steddie fic, written for Lex first seasonal challenge. 5 times Eddie warms Steve's hands and that one time Steve returns the favor.

Run Boy Run: Another self-indulgent smutty piece. I'm a passionate runner, and so is Steve in this one. Turns out, he had been running towards Eddie all along.

 Will you cleanse me with pleasure?: The obligatory monsterfucker, pardon me, monster love making fic. Eddie is a lake monster with way more appandages than Steve can handle. Or can he? 

fandom fic events in 2023

@thefreakandthehair's holiday challenge (2022) but finished 2023: I’m tired of asking to settle the debt

lex's spring challenge: Catch me like the falling rain

Steddie Big Bang with @legitcookie: Suitcase of Memories

Kinktober: we tangle endlessly like lovers entwined (also Eddiemonth), on the tip of my tongue, on top of my thighs, tell me it's love, tell me it's real and wear me like a locket around your throat (last two with @yournowheregirl)

steddiemas and steddieholidaydrabbles: I want you to want me,  let the impulse to love and the instinct to kill entangle to one, we were meant to be (we live happily in my fantasy) and  tangled with what I never said

lex's winter challenge (upcoming)

STuad fic exchange (upcoming)

Reverse Big Bang (upcoming)

continuing wips into 2024

The next chapter of hold me close (I’m shaking apart) in which Steve asks Eddie if he wants to experiment. Eddie wants so much more, but he takes what he can get and tries to not let it break his heart.

Pickup Note, a collab with @thefreakandthehair and @firefly-party about Steve joining Corred Coffin as a sub drummer. Inspired by Kei's fanart HERE and HERE.

Dear Future Self: Eddie is in love with Steve, who has become a fast friend after saving the world together but he's too afraid to make a move. Good thing his future self decides to help things along.

Take your time (I wanna cross some lines): Steve wants to try something new: getting used by strangers. He asks his best friend Eddie to watch over him while he's doing that so he can feel safe. But who watches over Eddie's heart?

History throws its shadow over the beginning: B-side to @legitcookie and my very first collab, I wore his jacket for the longest time. It's the same story, but told from Eddie's POV.

Closing Time with @legitcookie: After the worst date in a long while, Steve decides to take home the cute bartender who cheered him up.

Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang

tagging (with ZERO pressure): @legitcookie @yournowheregirl @starrystevie @scarcrossdlvrs, @henderdads, @stevethehairington, @starryeyedjanai, @cranberrymoons, @steddielations, @maxinemaxmayfield

Thank you to everyone who read my stuff and let me feel loved and cherished by liking, reblogging and commenting on them. It's been such a wonderful experience to be part of this fandom and I wouldn't want to miss it in the world. Here's to hoping for many more fics to come in 2024 💜🥰