#get by with a little help from my friends ( COMPANIONS )

[alwaysurvalentine]

If you are so inclined, I’d love to see Steve and Eddie’s aquarium date 💕

Thank you for your patience!!! (and for being my biggest fan! 🥹)

This is just fluff, fluff, and more fluff. - w.c: 4.6k - cw: n/a!

This can be read alone, but it is meant to be a companion piece to this!

Hope you enjoy our boys and their aquarium adventures! 💛

~

They’ve been together six months but watching Steve wake up in the mornings hasn’t gotten old. Eddie hopes it never does. He hardly ever wakes up before the other boy so each time he does, he makes sure to savor the moment. When Steve’s asleep his face is completely relaxed, mouth parted just slightly. Right before he wakes up, he always smacks his lips together and then scrunches his face slightly. Honey eyes blink open, and on the days that Eddie’s caught in his admiration, he gets a gooey smile first thing. He’d be more than happy laying in bed for a bit longer but they’ve got plans today, so he reaches up to gently brush the bangs back from Steve’s forehead. 

“Sweetheart.” He barely whispers the word, but right on cue Steve scrunches his face and his eyes start to flutter open. 

“Mm.” And Steve closes his eyes again, just scooting closer to Eddie to tuck his face in his chest.

“Stevie, we gotta get up. We got plans today, remember?” Eyelashes tickle his collarbone and he pinches at Steve’s side. “C’mon, you were all excited about this. And you’ve got me invested in what this surprise could be – I know you talked to Wayne about something.”

Again, Steve stays quiet. He’s not much of a talker first thing in the morning. The kiss Eddie feels him press against his neck is better than words. Steve yawns and rolls onto his back, stretching until his hands touch the wall behind the bed and he grins crookedly at Eddie when he sits up. 

“You’re right, let’s get going. We’ve got a bit of a drive before we get there.”

🐟🐟🐟

A wave of deja vu hits him when Steve pulls onto an exit in Louisville. A Denny’s sign welcomes him like an old friend and suddenly he remembers – chocolate chip pancakes and Wayne’s black coffee.

“Stevie.” There’s a lump in his throat that wasn’t there before and he pulls his eyes away from the sign to look at his boyfriend. Steve’s tilted his head to show he’s listening, eyes focused on the road as he turns.

“Did you bring me to the aquarium?” 

Steve grins, eyes squinted just that little bit closed in happiness. Sunlight shines through his hair like a halo. Eddie’s own personal angel. 

“Yep! When I was helping Wayne pack up the trailer for the move, I found a keychain on your dresser. Wayne happened to see it in the box I’d put it in and told me all about your visit out here. He said he had planned on bringing you back but stuff kept coming up and then all of a sudden you seemed ‘too old’ to bring anymore.” One hand raised off the wheel to do air quotes and Eddie feels the butterflies kick in his stomach. His boyfriend is such a dork. “Anyway, I thought it would be nice to come out for our anniversary, you know, to woo you.” Steve winks at the word, something they joke about often. Curse Eddie for saying that’s what he expected when Steve went in to kiss him the first time. 

A glance at the road reveals an upcoming stoplight and Eddie waits just long enough for the car to stop before leaning over the console to kiss Steve. He tastes like cheap gas station coffee and the chocolate frosted donuts they shared on the way up. When he backs away Steve follows him and offers another quick peck. 

“Consider me wooed, Stevie.” 

🐟🐟🐟

Since it’s a weekday, they’re able to find decent parking and head straight in to get tickets. Eddie can’t stop grinning, excitement bursting from him at getting to see all the different animals again. There are different halls that branch off from the main entrance: Under Water Coves, The Swamplands, and Penguin Palooza. By the smile on Steve’s face, he knows Eddie’s calling the shots today – and even if their feet hurt later, Steve won’t fault Eddie for dragging him around to every attraction the aquarium has to offer.

The first hall they come to is shrouded in darkness and when they turn the corner they see why. All of the fish in the tanks glow, bright flashes of orange and greens as the fish dart through their tanks. There’s enough light coming off of the tanks that they can read the panels on the wall to learn more, but Eddie finds himself more invested in watching Steve. His boyfriend is standing to the side of the tank, eyes drawn to the crabs crawling at the bottom. Fast footprints sound behind him and before he can even turn, two kids come racing to the same tank. The taller of the two has her hair pulled up in a pony tail tied with pink ribbon and the other’s unruly curls have been left in a pile on his head. Miss Pink Bows slows down as they approach but her brother doesn’t and slams right into the glass. Luckily, he doesn’t seem phased by the tumble and stands to press his hands against the glass. 

Steve turns with a grin, huffing a laugh of his own when he make eye contact with Eddie. That’s all it takes for the metalhead to erupt in giggles and Steve pulls him by the arm to the next viewing section. 

“Eddie – stop, stop laughing.”

The admonishment would mean more if Steve wasn’t fighting back his own laughter. 

🐟🐟🐟

The tunnel of fish steal Steve’s full attention but he’s still holding onto Eddie’s hand as they stand on the moving walkway. If there’s a fish he seems worried Eddie’s going to miss he squeezes and points towards where the fish is in the tank.

“Eddie, look, look at that!” A squeeze and a point guides Eddie’s eyes away from his boyfriend and to the four foot wide manta ray about to swim above them. He’s almost sure that his own smile matches the tiny one on the underside of the manta ray. There’s a blue hue painted over everyone under the tunnel, but it doesn’t take away from how bright Steve seems to be beside him. “Woah!” Another manta ray approaches the side of the tunnel and it has to be double the size of the one before. This one does a strange flipping maneuver and suddenly they can see its dark grey back instead as it swims nearly upside down above them. “They’re so big! I can’t believe how big they are.” 

Eddie can’t let the opportunity pass and grins salaciously. “That’s what she said.” Steve rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t dim. His brown hair shifts as he shakes his head and steps off of the walkway towards the next section.

🐟🐟🐟

The next room they enter has a wall of glass from ceiling to floor. Inside, there’s the shadow of a whale shark swimming towards them, gliding smoothly through the water. Eddie doesn’t pull his eyes away even as Steve gently tugs his hand to get them closer to the glass. He only looks away for a moment when he almost tumbles down the two smaller steps that lead to the viewing area. Up close the whale shark is just as cool as he remembers it to be. A sign on the wall lets people know that there’s two sharks in the tank, Alice and Mary. Smaller fish swim near her, and when light from above hits them just right they look just like silver sparkles surrounding her. Calm washes over him as he watches her swim past the glass, another shadow in the distance outlining the other shark. 

Last time he was here he knows he pressed his face and hands up against the glass, like getting closer would mean seeing them better – four foot wide glass be damned. Uncle Wayne had to carry him out so they could go through the rest of the museum. He’d rested his head on Wayne’s shoulder and kept his eyes trained on the tank for as long as he could until they turned the corner. It’d been his favorite part of the aquarium then and he’s sure that’s not going to change now. 

Eddie notices the hair rising on the back of his neck before he makes the connection that he can feel eyes on him. He glances to his left and meets Steve’s hazel gaze. The last six months has taught Eddie how to read the many different expressions of his boyfriend, knowing what he’s thinking with just a quirk of his brow. Right now, the only way to describe the look on Steve’s face is lovesick. Soft in a way he sees when it’s late at night and they’re cuddled up under the blankets on the brink of sleep. It warms Eddie’s heart and he swears he feels it skip a beat as he grins. 

“Aren’t these the best? Just gentle giants.”

🐟🐟🐟

“Wait, so we can touch these ones?” Surprise colors Steve’s words and he’s tilted his head in question towards the worker. A small ‘bay’ is between them, baby cownose rays gliding under a couple inches of water. The worker nods and then directs their attention towards a couple of young kids that have approached the pools. 

Despite his question, Steve doesn’t move to touch one of the animals swimming, instead standing with his hands close to his chest like letting them hang too close to the water is going to hurt the rays. 

“Do you want to touch them?” Eddie’s comment breaks Steve’s concentration and the younger boy turns to him.

“I’m not sure yet. You can though!” He steps quickly to the side like that’s the only thing keeping Eddie from reaching forward. A notch is between his brows and he gazes at the pool again, hazel eyes tracing the gentle movements the worker makes for the kids to copy. One of the kids touches the ray and pulls away quick, face scrunched in disgust; the other pets along the entire back with a gentle hand and a grin on their face. A couple rays swim towards Steve and Eddie’s side of the ‘bay’ and Eddie lowers his hand into the water. It’s colder than he thought it would be but one of the rays darts right under his finger tips. He’d thought it would be slimy but instead it’s soft like velvet. He turns to Steve with a grin, already reaching towards another ray swimming his way. The crease between Steve’s brows eases and his eyes dart to the dimple Eddie knows is denting his cheek with how big he’s grinning. 

“Stevie, these are sooo soft. C’mon.” His boyfriend is still slow in his movements as he reaches towards the water, tension in his shoulders as a ray goes to glide to the other end of the pool. A freckled hand barely taps the water and then pulls away again. “They’re not gonna hurt you sweetheart, they wouldn’t let people touch them if they thought someone would get hurt.” Finally, all of the apprehension Steve’s been holding onto seeps out of him and he submerges one hand in the water while he uses the other one to hold onto Eddie’s dry one. 

🐟🐟🐟

“Stevie, come and help me with this?” 

This being a trivia game along the wall while they wait to get into the next exhibit. There’s questions with buttons to press that light up green or red depending on if you’re right or wrong. All of the questions are a little lower than eye level for them, probably meant for the younger kids in the hallway but being older hasn’t stopped Eddie from being a kid at heart. 

“Okay, why is it called a spider crab?” There’s only two choices, and Eddie picks the one that makes the most sense. And gets a red light.

“How is it not because they have 8 legs? It’s just because they’re tall? That’s lame.” He gets an empathetic pat on the shoulder before Steve steps over to the next question.

“How many hearts does an octopus have? Wait, octopi have more than one heart?” Again, there are two choices and since it’s already wild to think about them having more than one heart, Eddie hits the button that says three – green. 

“How about that! Three whole hearts. Hey, Stevie?” The brunette has already started for the next question and only turns his head to show he’s listening. Eddie closes the distance before continuing, “If I were an octopus all three of my hearts would belong to you.” That gets him a smile and the tops of Steve’s ears going pink. A quick peck to the moles on Steve’s left cheek and then he refocuses on the questions in front of him. 

🐟🐟🐟

The hallway full of trivia ends with a small ramp leading into the Penguin Palooza. There’s two paths they can take, one that advertises walking with the penguins and the other leading to the normal viewing area. Eddie already knows it’s going to be worth it to go the first route when Steve turns to him in excitement. 

Walking with the penguins means turning left and finding an entrance only tall enough to get in if you kneel down. 

“Oh. Never mind, we don’t need to do this.” Steve’s already backing up a couple steps, hand pulling at Eddie to go back the other way. And Eddie knows that crawling is going to be rough on his hips, but they haven’t hurt yet today and if he goes slow then he should be fine. So instead of following Steve’s pulling, he squeezes his hand once and then lets go to get situated on the floor. 

“No, I mean it. We’ll still get to see them if we go the other way. Ed-”

The carpet is an odd texture when Eddie places his hands on it. Somehow it’s the same rough you expect to give you carpet burn while also being smooth. He’s mainly glad that it’s dry as he crawls under the entrance to be face to face with a couple of interconnected tunnels. There’s areas with light pooled in one spot that he can see either kids standing in or adults going up on just their knees. Shuffling noises sound behind him and he glances back to see Steve crawling behind him, brown hair falling slightly into his eyes. Light pools down on them and when Eddie glances up he understands what the signs meant now. Penguins surround the dome he kneels up in to, one staring him down as he grins at it. Warmth presses against his side and he feels more than hears the gasp Steve lets out. 

“This is so cool.” 

🐟🐟🐟

“Did you see that penguins mate for life?” A nod and then Steve’s continuing, “They’re just like us.” And now it’s Eddie’s turn to blush. He pulls some hair from his shoulder to hide behind and tries to distract Steve by pulling him towards the amphitheater. This time they have to walk up a slight ramp, painted murals of dolphins covering the walls. It’s a lot cooler when they get to the end and there’s an usher standing at the doors gesturing them closer.

“Hey, show’s about to start. There should be a couple more seats available.” 

Through the doors is a massive pool, seats like a theatre pressed up against one wall. They have to walk in front of everyone to find their seats which could’ve made Eddie nervous if it weren’t for the mime he sees ahead of them dancing behind a family finding their own seats. Every time the dad turns to see what the crowd is laughing at the mime stops dancing and pretends to whistle. Only to start skipping as soon as the dad turns again. A young boy starts walking the opposite way and the mime switches tactics to follow him. This time he’s ‘playing’ a trumpet as the boy makes his way to the exit. When Steve and Eddie walk by, the mime changes course again but this time he just hooks his elbow with Eddie as though the three of them are going on a walk together. It reminds him of Robin hanging onto Steve’s other side when the three of them cuddle up on the couch. 

Steve finds an aisled staircase to walk up and Eddie nudges the mime before they can let go. He nods his head towards with a smirk and hopes the mime can think quick on his feet. 

“Wow, you’re just going to leave me like this?” He projects his voice slightly, eyes catching a couple of bystanders’ faces as he does. By the time his boyfriend turns to him Eddie’s wiped the smile off of his face and is doing his best impression of someone who’s been cheated on. “I can’t believe you. I thought what we had was special.” This time he turns away from Steve and towards the mime, face tilted up towards the ceiling fluttering his eyes like he’s about to cry. “Take me away from this place, Jeffery.” He peeks one eye open to see the mime playing along, an exaggerated frown on his face. A laugh almost escapes but he covers it with a fake hiccup like he’s about to cry. And then he puts a lot of trust in Jeffery and falls back like a fainting damsel. Surprisingly, the mime catches him and fans at his face. When he opens his eyes it’s to Steve with his arms crossed over his chest and shaking his head. The right side of his mouth looks like it’s being chewed on, his tell that he’s trying his hardest not to smile. Then he shocks Eddie and plays along.

“Yeah, well you can have him, Jeffery.” His voice is deeper than usual, almost like how he sounded as King Steve, and he clicks his tongue before heading towards a couple of empty seats. The mime, good sport that he is, pats Eddie’s shoulder and pretends to roll up his sleeves. Shadow boxing the air behind Steve is what does Eddie in before he’s laughing hard enough there’s genuine tears in his eyes. 

“Thanks, man.” Eddie knows the mime can’t respond in words but he does get a nod of respect as the bystanders clap at their act. He and the mime bow to the crowd, each trying to bow down lower than the other. Eddie calls it when his hip twinges and he finally heads off to seat next to Steve. His baby is chuckling when he sits down and Eddie grins. “Sorry, babe. Had to give the people what they want.”

🐟🐟🐟

Bright florescent lights nearly blind Eddie when they step into the gift shop. Luckily, his eyes adjust pretty quickly and he’s able to actually take in the different gifts in front of him. There’s a tower of stuffed clown fish in the center of the entrance, a couple sitting lopsided at the bottom where kids have nearly brought the stack down. Shelves line the right side of the shop, and they’ve got something for everyone: snow globes with turtles floating in the middle, all kinds of shark figurines, and even different sea animals made into squish balls. 

Across from the shelves are racks lining the other wall. All of the items hanging are pastel with the aquarium’s logo smack in the middle of the chest. A cozy sweatshirt seems to call to Steve, his boyfriend’s hands already tucking into the arms of the hoodie to see if the inside is soft. Steve does this a lot to check that he’ll like the way the fabric feels before he buys it. 

Eddie takes this opportunity to search through the spinning racks covered in different key chains. It only feels right to get Wayne one to match. Might’ve been X years in the making, but the Munsons deserve matching keychains. There’s so many different ones to look at so Eddie focuses more on which ones Wayne definitely will not use. This gets rid of any of them with his name on it (‘Not that old yet, Ed. Don’t need something with my name on it.’) and while the tiny pocket knives are cute, Eddie knows that they’d probably break in a week. 

Steve joins him at the rack when he sees it: a whale shark dangling on a tiny chain. There’s a couple random fish hanging in front of it so he has to awkwardly juggle those into his hands without dropping them to get to the one he wants. When he holds it up to inspect closer, there’s a small chip in one of the fins but he figures that just adds some character to it. There’s only one thing in Steve’s hands when he turns around and it isn’t the sweatshirt he was checking out. No, it’s a massive whale shark. Like big enough that the head is resting on Steve’s chest and the tail is curled on his shins. Even without touching it Eddie can tell that it’s soft. 

“Holy shit!” It’s just as soft as it looks when he reaches out to pet it. His chipped black nails almost blend in with the dark navy of the shark. All of the spots on its back are a cream color just like the stomach and face of the shark. “How do I get one of these?” When he looks up at Steve’s face again, the other boy’s face is turned in a frown, but something seems off about it.

“Well, this is actually the last one…” His voice is serious, but there’s a crinkle next to Steve’s eye like he’s fighting a smile. Eddie squints at him. “But I could let it go for the low price of a kiss.” Finally, the smile wins out and Steve’s beaming at Eddie. It takes a moment for the words to catch up, but when they do Eddie practically jumps to close the distance. The stuffed animal between them doesn’t do much but mess up his trajectory and they end up bumping noses instead of lips. His second attempt is better, lips slotting onto Steve’s messily – both smiling too much for it to be a deep kiss. Eddie’s free hand comes up to cup the side of Steve’s face, thumb tracing over the corner of his lover’s smile when he kisses him again. Three quick pecks and then he backs off again, rocking onto the heels of his feet. Steve looks dazed but happy, grin lopsided and taking up his whole face. 

“That’s my payment good sir! Can I hold her?” Soft plush fills his arms and Steve takes the keychain before Eddie can drop it. They walk up to the cashier together and Eddie hears a couple kids gasp as he walks by with his prize. He’s already decided to name her Lady Krilina Chewsalot and he can’t wait to see how much space she takes up on the bed. 

🐟🐟🐟

Sunset has come and gone by the time they get back to Hawkins and the porch light greets them when they pull up to the Munson trailer. Lady Krilina Chewsalot (Lady K.C.) had been exiled to the backseat when her head blocked the view of the rear view mirror. Eddie reaches into the backseat for her now, pulling her back into his lap and pulling the handle to step out of the car. 

“Time to go introduce Wayne to his grand-daughter.” Steve just shakes his head and steps out, grabbing the small bag holding souvenirs for the group. 

“Wayne!! I’ve got a surprise for you, old man!” Eddie calls out as he unlocks the door, tucking his new friend behind his back before stepping fully into the trailer. His uncle’s sitting on the couch, some black and white western playing on the TV. “I’ve got important news.” He pauses just long enough for Wayne to start to turn and then tugs the whale shark from his back and holds it in front of him with his arms outstretched. 

“You’re a grandpa.” Lady K.C. blocks his view but Eddie can hear Wayne laughing anyway and it tugs at his heart. There are few things better than getting a laugh out of the older man. When he moves the plush down, Wayne’s turned on the couch with his arm resting on the back so he can see the boys clearly. Steve comes up beside him and passes the keychain to Eddie, moving the whale shark to his hands to take her in the direction of Eddie’s room. (Steve hopes he can convince Eddie to keep her at his desk while he stays over so he has bed space. He won’t be successful.)

“Nice one, Ed. Did you boys have fun?” The couch creaks when Eddie sits on it, springs noisy with age, and he holds his hand out to Wayne.

“It was just as cool as I remember. They added some new stuff too – we might have to all go again sometime. We got you this.” 

Wayne’s weathered hand takes the key chain gently and lets the whale shark dangle in the air for a moment before smiling. “Thought we needed to match?” The words are teasing but there seems to be a gleam in Wayne’s eye when he glances at Eddie. Sometimes he gets like this, Eddie will do something that reminds him of years past and he’ll get lost in the memory. It worries Eddie a bit, but Wayne just says it’s like seeing the younger version of him overlap with the young man he is today. 

🐟🐟🐟

Eddie’s blinds only do so much to block out the streetlamp outside and it paints his room in a dim yellow no matter the time of night. He used to complain about it but after the Upside Down it’s nice to be able to wake up and see everything semi-clearly. The light leaves an outline of Steve next to him, lying on his back with one arm resting on his own chest and the other reaching towards the side of the bed Eddie is on. Normally he’d be curled up on Steve’s chest and having his hair played with, but tonight Eddie’s opted to pet the face and sides of Lady Krilina Chewsalot to fully calm down before bed. 

“Happy anniversary, baby.” Sleep seeps into Steve’s words and they come out as little more than a whisper. He yawns and turns on his side and scoots a little closer to Eddie.

“Today was amazing. Thanks, sweetheart. Happy anniversary.” When Eddie doesn’t move to push Lady K.C. away Steve sighs and gently nudges at Eddie’s shoulder. 

“C’mon, Ed, let’s go to bed. You can hold your shark tomorrow.” 

A scandalized gasp turns into a yawn when Eddie goes to answer. “You can’t make me get rid of her so easily. She is my baby.”

“Mhm. Of course not, wouldn’t dream of it.” Steve’s eyes are closed as he talks, nudging Eddie again but this time trying to roll him over. When he does finally turn onto his side, Steve scoots in quick to cuddle up to his back. It’s all warmth where their bodies connect, Steve attached like a shadow to Eddie so that he can keep cuddling with his whale shark. A kiss is pressed to the back of Eddie’s head and then Steve relaxes with a content sigh.

“G’night, Ed.” It doesn’t take long at all for sleep to take Eddie too. 

Both boys doze off, hearts beating in time with the other.

~

Thank you @snowdepths for letting me use the line "if i were an octopus all three of my hearts would belong to you"!!

(Fun fact for this piece: I had 5 tabs open for different aquarium facts/layouts to try and make this accurate. 😅)

[scrompsautobotsrchives]

Amica Endura

Part 2 of the rewrites, Hopefully I can remake the magic. Word count:1.4K

Amica endura is a cybertronian word for one's only best friend. The person you stick with for years, and intend to stick by for years to come, and for bumblebee's case, It's y/n.

It's been nearly a year since that faithful day when you got him out of the dealership and you have proven yourself otherwise, he liked you a lot, and you were a perfect friend to him... But only a tiny problem... More than likely he needed permission from a prime, the prime being Optimus, but where was he ??

So late at night when you were asleep, he drove out and took the roads to hopefully find him, just a hint... anything... Soon after almost an hour of driving...

"Ca... ll... Au...ts" A signal was picked up, Bee froze in his place and began to adjust his signal to hopefully hear the message better.

"Calling all Autobots, If you can hear this, meet me at these coordinates" The prime's familiar voice flooded his ears !! Yippie !!!

And soon he sped his way to the location of the signal, oh god it's been ages !!

Optimus transformed at a nearby hill and tried to boost the signal range, Please hope his crew is alright... He looked down sadly before hearing the familiar rev of his faithful companion.

Bee whirred in excitement as he transformed and stumbled in front of him happily as he found him. "Oh captain, My captain !!" His radio scratched. "Glad... to... see you again"

Optimus looked down and gave a gentle nod, he was so goddamn happy. "Bee... good to see you too"

After a bit, Bee started to shift from side to side a little nervously "I can... say something ??" He finally said.

Optimus raised an optic brow. "Go on then" Fully turning to his comrade, giving him his full attention.

Bee stood there for a little bit before opening up his chest cavity to reveal his spark, Optimus looked down at him, and a moment passed before he seemed to understand. "Who is it ??"

He started to grow more nervous, oh god this was it. "Human..."

Optimus blinked again. "A human... You've been mingling with humans" He said firmly, he was only worried.

Bee nodded

"Impossible, It won't be happening" Optimus looked out into the open. Immediately abrasive of the idea.

"They are my friends..." Bee whirred angrily, kicking the ground before going on a rant. "They didn't... See me... as... junk... they helped... me find... my voice !!"

"No... we cannot trust them, the humans will protect what is there's, we can only trust our own kind"

Bee gave him the softest eyes. Now come on, who can't say no to them !! "They... mean a lot"

Optimus looked back out into the open after a while. "If they mean so much, bring them here"

He beeped softly, but you were at work tomorrow, he can't just say before you leave.

But before he could say, Optimus picked up another signal from a familiar rev head. Be beeped again, he has an idea. "Let's go to the mall..."

The next night, you were leaving work and making your way to the bus station, But you didn't make it until a car started to rev in front of you. But the fear slowly dissipated once you realized what car it was

"Porsche 911 Carrera" You looked around it, holy flipping cow... you then noticed on the steering wheel a familiar logo that Bee also had on his steering wheel, was it... one of them ??

The car revved again, clicking open the door. You frowned, So hesitantly you hopped in, knowing that is what it's likely asking... the car feels nice... And before you knew it, the door slammed shut, the engine roared and sped off down the road.

"Woah Woah WOAH !!" You held on for dear life.

The car revved again and went faster just to tease you a little bit, it wasn't long before the police got involved from all the stunt's its been performing.

"Pull over !!" One officer managed to get next to you.

"I'M NOT DRIVING !!" You screamed out.

They flicked the lights on and tried to speed up, but not on this autobot's watch, he has a few tricks up his sleeve.

He swirled around and started to drive in reverse, first blinding the cop and soon rearranging with you safely in back to front. The cherry on top was then he started to make clones of himself and you, You looked to your left to see a clone of you flipping off the cop, and on the right, the clone of you gave a thumbs up.

The car swerved onto an offramp while the cop was distracted, making him crash into a guard division, You were getting to your final destination, speeding off into an abandoned warehouse.

"Yo yo yo slow down !!"

The car skidded along the ground, flinging you out as gently as it could, and soon beginning to transform.

"Woohoo !! That felt good !! Get some oil pumping you know ?? Damn. I've been cooped up forever dude, I can't tell you how old it gets. 'Mirage, stay hidden. Mirage, don't draw any attention to yourself. Mirage, Big is just a movie, you'll never be a real boy.' But that was fun man, your fun dude"

You were just rushing off from the adrenaline, looking up at him with slight fear.

"Oh right, this is probably a lot for you huh ??" He smiled softly as he kneeled to your height.

You scrambled up and grabbed a nearby pole, ready to defend yourself. "Back up !!'

"Hey woah woah, what's with the aggression. I thought after the car chase we were cool ??"

"What are you, some kind of possessed car ??"

"Nah, that's not real man, I'm an alien"

"Like... Like ET ??" Now where did that come from.

"ET !! The little ugly guy in the basket ?? Look at this face !!" He pointed to his adorable face before then holding out a fist for you. "The name mirage !!

You were a little hesitant.

"Come on, give me a little... give me a little... give me a little tap... give me a little tap..."

You then hesitantly fist bumped him.

"There ya go now were friends !!"

Soon you heard more revving, one light and one super heavy.

"Oh great the gang's here"

You looked behind and saw Bee driving in and transforming, Then soon back at the front, you saw a truck driving in and transforming, this one was super tall than Mirage and Bee !!

Bee quickly jumped in between you and Optimus, He knew Optimus meant well, but go easy on them ok !! Optimus stopped to look at both of you before then picking you up and getting a closer look.

"Who... Who are you ??" You frowned.

"I am Optimus prime" He looked at you firmly.

"Bee... what's going on ??"

Bee whirred softly as Optimus continued. "Who are you... Y/n"

'I... I'm just a normal kid... I found Bee in the car shop alright... I ain't even seen nothing I don't even know nothing" You closed your eyes and looked away.

Optimus looked at you firmly before you noticed his optics softened, Out of a sort of apology, before he then gently placed you back down. He still felt like he couldn't trust humans... But he is open to seeing where this will go, if this is what bee wants, he won't stop him.

"Bee ??" You looked over at him.

He whirred softly, putting his focus on you and kneeling down, Unlatching his chest cavity. "Y/n- my best... friend. Most... Important friend"

Your eyes softened when you looked at his spark, It was so bright.

Bee gave you the softest look. "I want... to be your friend- forever" Soon closing his chest cavity, you looked over at the other two.

"What happened ??"

"Dude... He just offered you ultimate friendship" Mirage chimed in, still amazed by the sight.

Optimus nodded to him and you. "Amica endura, The strongest form of friendship that a cybertronian can ever offer. An eternal oath" He explained to you.

"It's never been done with a human before, so consider yourself the first" Mirage chimed again.

Bee looked at you softly, whirring in hope.

You smiled up at him. "Your my best friend bee"

He Beeped happily before scooping you up and holding you close.

Optimus didn't say anything, He didn't feel it was his place, just watching... But he couldn't help but twitch a small small.

Be nuzzled your cheek as you held him close as well. His spark pulsing warmth against his chest, His radio scratched... "I'll love you till the day that I die"

Taglist: @callofdudes

[mephistopheleswasrobbed]

I'm back with episode 4 of Peaceful Property and our boys are starting to be quite solid, so let's go!

1

They're not fighting anymore this week (although I suspect they might bring that back next week when things get personal for Peach) but they're still doing their good old couple bickering.

(I wish to personally congratulate whomever came up with this line. It's perfect.)

2

Pangpang's commenters are also still shipping, though they were mostly preoccupied with criticizing her and the government, this week.

3

They keep just being around each other. Sitting closer than neccessary, standing closer than neccessary.

They clearly find comfort in each others presence and constantly seek it out, sticking together for large parts of this episode.

They were this close to cuddling on that couch while the others were doing their own stuff. (And Home is truely not disproving the bi allegations with the way he's sitting? here)

Even when Peach cooks, Home, instead of helping/bothering the others is, of course, sticking with Peach (and racking up the ghost's energy bill)

4

Peach laughs at Home's stupid joke. That's like THE ultimate sign of a crush (or so I'm told).

5

In general they're so touchy this episode.

Starting off by holding hands when running from the alledged ghost.

(Btw, can we talk about the way Home looks at Peach here, because damn)

And after Peach injuries his ankle they get even touchier. Home is immediately the one who keeps carrying Peach around but even when he's not doing that they've got their hands on each other,

he's got a hand on Peach's back,

or an arm around his shoulder.

Through all of it Home's so gentle with Peach. Very sweet.

(And don't think I didn't catch your hand when you were checking on Peach ('s peach), Home!)

6

Discussing Pangpang's recent behavioural changes while casually fighting over a blanket. It seems they have taken her comment about them being the parents to heart. Also Home is the one who brings it up which goes to show that he's really been paying attention, trying to learn about his new companions just like shady uncle told him to in ep 2.

Appropriately, their fight ends with them sharing the blanket, so.

7

They're both so protective of the other this episode.

Peach especially. He's so far been mostly cowering behind his sister or Home, but this episode he kind of takes on the role of protector. He is, after all the only one who has experience seeing ghosts, so now that the other three are seeing a "ghost" for the first time and are quite distressed by it, he steps up to take charge of the group. Deciding when to leave situations and making sure everyone's safe. Notably he physically pulls Home (and only Home) along to run away TWICE this episode. The first time in the aforementiond hand holding moment and the second time when they run away, shortly before the shelf incident.

Home gets his turn to be protective after Peach gets hurt. I've already discussed how he immediately takes it upon himself to carry Peach around and sticks to his side for the rest of the night, but he's also not about to just let it go that Mr. Magician hurt his man, even after he tells them his (admittedly very sad, even my reservations about Foei couldn't stop me from shedding a couple of tears) sob-story.

(Sure Home, "friend")

8

Peach has become somewhat of a chaotic-rich-boy handler.

They're functioning as a team now, complementing each other and Peach is here to bring the level-headedness when Home get's a little too worked up. Cause if Home is going to listen to anyone, it's Peach.

9

They have achieved the crucial step in relationship closeness of nonverbal communication.

(this is admittedly where still images can't fully capture my point but trust me bro, it's happening) (also admittedly, there's no exclusivity here. Some nonverbal communication is happening between many constellations of their team this episode, showing that they've all gotten closer. But it's an important milestone in their relationship nontheless so I'm bringing it up)

10

Home notices Peach shaking when cooking and he's worried about him. (He had already witnessed the shaking last episode when Peach was making noodles in their office so he knows it's a pattern and not a one-time thing) It is in fact his biggest worry right now, as we find out when he's talking to Kan on the phone, and Suradech in the bath for some reason.

Speaking of that scene, he does get a little flirty with Kan over the call but even he admit's he's joking.

What he's not joking about is that he's happy that their group has clicked and from what we see this episode and the fact that he goes immediately back to worrying about him, I think it's safe to say he's mostly thinking about Peach when he says this.

In the first place, there was never really any major problem between anyone else, so it truely is this newfound closeness between Home and Peach that brings harmony to their little family.

11

Of course, while her brother and Home are off in their own world, Pangpang sticks with Kan. She is unfortunately a little too busy with her own insecurities to get much flirting done this week, but you can't convince me she wasn't a little turned on by Kan when she threatened to sue the "ghost".

12

Again, this week we leave the episode with a little nugget of extra Home and Peach sitting very close, bickering and flirting in the credits.

TayNew's chemistry is coming through in full force in these moments. I'm half convinced the director told them to just be themselves when they filmed the end credit bits.

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille

[flamboyant-king]

Hey babes, sorry I've been dead, but I coulda been literally dead if I had not gone.

I didn't hurt myself and we're still figuring things out. I would love to share but I've already forgotten what I've learned. I hope I get more guidance and time for healing and learning on how to lead my life in a better direction than where I was. But that takes time and effort.

I hope to get some rest, get some support, and get it together. But right now, I don't think it's healthy for me to worry about art in the way I do now. I may not express it here, but trying to maintain my art endeavors/projects while there's so much bullshit going on backstage is not helping me. Especially since I'm not even obligated to do so. But trying to force myself to do something I am currently unable to do will just make me feel worse. I'll follow my dreams and passions one day, but I've been putting off the healing process for years.

So I guess it's better to get better now so I can get the ball rolling again. Why drive on a flat tire?

[horsefigureoftheday]

Can you explain the "breyer horses are stylised" thing you said a while back? Not because I don't believe you but because I don't know enough about horses to see it (besides the mane and tail)

All artistic representations of a horse will be somewhat stylized. Humans can't help it, they imagine details, even when referencing photos or live animals. A swayed back gets exaggerated, sickle hocks are overlooked, the face becomes more expressive, because to a human who loves a horse, and who expresses their own emotions with their face, the horse's face just feels more expressive.

Take a look at this horse from Peter Paul Rubens' "Wolf and Fox Hunt" (1616) and how it compares to a photo of a horse

The artist was clearly familiar with horses, and most likely referenced off a live horse. And yet its face is much more expressive than a real horse's face - it's neotenous and borderline anthropomorphic, with its huge sorrowful eyes, and the short muzzle that puts the mouth in closer proximity to its eyes (making its expression more readable).

I think a lot of people see what they want to see when they look at a horse, and they reflect that in their art. Is the horse an independent agent or a tool of its rider? Is the horse an unthinking animal or a soulful creature like yourself? Does the artist admire animals, in spite of painting them in terrible war-like scenarios? Does the artist paint animals in these scenarios because he admires them? Is the horse meant to elevate the status of its rider, by being depicted as a soulful creature that nonetheless submits to its rider? (You can probably guess my own opinion from these questions)

Earlier art saw horses almost an afterthought, depicted from memory while their rider was drawn reverently. All those art pieces of emperors and kings on horseback, where the horse looks like a cartoonish oaf, use the horse as a symbol of power, with no regard for the animal itself. Even when the horse is beautifully rendered, it's nothing more than a vehicle to carry its rider. The artist has depicted the horse as expressionless, beastly, and soulless.

Even when you get into portraits of horses in the 17-/1800s, they are still stylized, though now you're just as likely to see a lithe and graceful companion, as you are a muscled working horse or a faithful old friend. Horse breeding really took off around this time, as did theories of animal minds, so adoration of horses-as-individuals became more widespread. Examples are "Lustre" (1762) by George Stubbs, "Mare and Foal in a Stable" (1854) by John Frederick Herring Senior, and "A Grey Horse in a Field" (1873) by Rosa Bonheur.

All this is to say that horses will always be stylized in art. Humans can't not twist the horse the suit their own tastes, and that's fine. I actually think it's kinda beautiful. The way horses are stylized can give you insight into the artist's opinion of horses. An artist with a neotenic, expressive stylization probably has more respect for horses-as-individuals than an artist who depicts them as inexpressive, powerful, willing beasts of burden.

Breyer horses have an airy painterly quality to them. Even the draft horses seem almost weightless. Compare Breyer's "George" with the self-released resin horse "Gustav," both sculpted by Brigitte Eberl.

George has much longer hooves and smoother curves in his legs - you could draw a near perfect curve from his hind knee to his toe -, giving him a flowing appearance with very little weight behind it. Gustav, on the other hand, has sharp edges and corners. He feels heavy. I'm a big fan of wrinkles and muscle on model horses, but the muscles on George seem like he's been through a rock tumbler. They're smooth and soft-looking, except for the extremely deep crevices between them, which are probably there to better catch paint and enhance the shading (an effect that's especially noticeable on George's thigh). Gustav, on the other hand, has very subtle muscling and virtually no wrinkles (he deserves neck wrinkles, give my boy neck wrinkles!!). He looks like a working horse with a solid layer of fat over his muscles. George's stylization is, for lack of a better word, smooth. Flawless. A bit too perfect for my liking. George is like the platonic ideal of a visually appealing draft horse. A horse like him can't exist.

I think resin horses by master craftsmen are the closest we'll get to depicting horses exactly as they are in life. The stylistic choices are extremely subtle, and seem more like a consequence of the medium than a deliberate goal on the artist's part (e.g., you can't make a realistic mane out of resin, so you have to compromise).

I love both the stylistic trappings that humans fall into when depicting horses and the endless quest for the perfect artistic representation of the horse. Both are beautiful. All horse art is beautiful.

(Obligatory disclaimer that I'm not an art historian or anthropologist, I literally studied bugs at university, so if you think I'm talking out of my ass you are MORE than welcome to add to this post!)

[alastorss]

brother i still have no idea how tumblr works and this is my first request and it might not even be in the right place but—

why does NO ONE talk about the fact that “Allie” would be such a silly nickname for Alastor? i would love to see some headcanons/a lil story about how he would react to the reader calling him that. maybe completely detests it at first but secretly likes it?

a/n: hello lovely, you've come to the right place 🫶 yes yes yes!!! i'm obsessed with this idea <3 i'm adding to this: he would think you're mad at him when you finally call him normally again ^ ^

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"What did you say?"

"Huh?" You hum, attention devoted to fixing Alastor's bowtie.

"That thing you just said. Repeat it."

You finally blink at him, using your palms to smooth out the front of his jacket before stepping out of his bubble. "I said your tie was undone."

"No, dear, before that."

The Radio Demon can feel his eye twitching in irritation. You look at him again dumbly, trying to retrace your steps.

"Oh!" You flash him a little smile and he thinks his brain is going to explode. "Allie?"

He just gawks at you, surprised by the sheer audacity you have. And it doesn't help that he's so fond of you that he doesn't even want to strike you down.

Had it been someone else calling him so endearingly, he might have done something violent. But how could he do that to you, his darling companion, when you look so sweet calling him such a ridiculous name?

"My apologies but... where did that come from?"

"Isn't it cute?" You grin, completely dodging his question.

No, he wants to say. Absolutely not. However, your smile is ever-growing and he can't very well deny you this pleasure. So he sucks it up, draws in a deep inhale to compose himself, and nods.

"Of course, cher."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Weeks pass and the rest of your friends in the hotel begin to raise a brow at how casually you address such a powerful Overlord. And more than that, he doesn't seem to want to correct you.

It becomes his name reserved exclusively for you. Angel had tried, once, to purr out Allie in a seductive way that made Alastor's skin crawl. Never again.

He gets used to it. Even likes the idea that there is something shared between you that no one else can have. That is, until you're pushing around your breakfast on a plate one morning.

"Can you pass the salt, Alastor?"

He looks up from his mug of coffee in confusion, brain taking a moment to buffer before it catches up with his already moving mouth.

"Alastor?" He repeats his own name, staring at you intensely and most definitely not passing the salt over the table.

You look back up at him blankly. "That's your name, don't wear it out."

He scoffs at your lame joke before sliding the salt shaker over the table. There's something unsettling him and he can't quite place it.

Setting down his newspaper, he watches you as you eat. His gaze is so fiery that you look up from your food almost instantly.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?"

Your brows scrunch. "No, why?"

"Why did you not call me Allie?"

Complete and utter silence settles over the dining table until he feels like he can't breathe. Your spoonful of food hovers just in front of your open mouth as you stare.

Then, laughter. Laughter fills the room and his ears so heartily that he feels it in his own chest. You double over the table in your fit, spoon clinking onto the plate as you drop it.

"What?" He grumbles.

"Of course I'm not mad at you!" You howl, using a finger to wipe up the tears gathering in your eyes. "'Sides, I thought you hated that name?"

His jaw grows taut. "Hate is a powerful word."

"So you like it?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Liar, you do!"

Alastor is never one to get flustered, but here he is for the first time in his afterlife, teetering on the edge of bursting out in flames. "You are terrible, you know that?"

You snicker, leg getting trapped between his under the table. "Yeah, Allie, I know."

Yet the way his smile softens says it all.

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc (send an ask to be added!)

[dalishious]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s Familiar Faces and Factions

The trailer for Dragon Age: The Veilguard has dropped, and I couldn’t be more excited. It’s like a new breath of life has entered my lungs!

Within the trailer, we now have confirmation of who our seven companions are going to be, and among them are a few familiar faces from the book Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights. We also have some name-droppings of a couple factions featured in the same book and the comics, Dragon Age: The Missing. So, here is what knowledge is established about these faces sand factions.

Neve Gallus & The Shadow Dragons

Neve Gallus was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Streets of Minrathous”. She comes off as a no-nonsense and a little intense kind of person. Neve is a Tevinter mage who works as a private investigator. For example, if someone wants some detective work done but doesn’t want the public to know, they would hire Neve. On occasion, she’s even been hired by the templars, who act like just regular cops in Tevinter – and yes, that includes their corruption and primary goal of simply protecting the elite – but Neve prefers to work alone because of that corruption, and has a personal grudge against the order for taking bribes to cover up crimes.

Neve has a prosthetic leg below the knee, made of dwarven-crafted metal.

In The Missing, Neve says she is friends with the Shadow Dragons. In the article shared by EA, as of The Veilguard, she is officially a member. The Shadow Dragons are a group of concerned Tevinter citizens who help those in need. This includes supporting escaped slaves, for example.

Emmrich Volkahrin

Emmrich Volkahrin was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “Down Among the Dead Men”. He is a necromancer from Nevarra, and therefore naturally a member of the Mortalitasi – specifically, a professor in the Mourn Watch. The Watchers serve as elite guardians of the Grand Necropolis. Emmrich is on the eccentric side, personality-wise, but kindly and informal.

Emmrich has a skeleton assistant name of Manfred, who helps him with different office tasks. He also has friends in Myrna, a fellow Watcher, and Audric, a dead guardsmen who looks after the library.

Lucanis Dellamorte

Lucanis Dellamorte was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Wigmaker Job”. He is the favourite grandson of Caterina Dellamorte, First Talon (leader) of the Antivan Crows. As such, he was raised from birth to be the perfect assassin in a ruthless and torturous environment, knowing only cruelty from his family. This has led to him feeling less like a person and more like a living weapon – and he is treated like one by everyone who knows of him. He has “the Demon” as a nickname.

I know a few people are curious about the “mage killer” title in the trailer. Rest assured that Lucanis specifically kills evil blood mages. In his own words: “If someone wants to pay me top coin to kill a bunch of racist blood mages—who have it coming—I’m not going to complain.”

Where his cousin Illario has a “silver tongue” as Lucanis puts it, he himself is a lot blunter. His reputation of a killer is spotless, except for one small problem: He has a heart under all that black leather.

Lucanis and Illario get along quite well, except for the fact that Lucanis is destined to be the next First Talon, after Caterina dies. Illario wants the job far more than Lucanis, but Lucanis isn’t sure he’s capable of making a decision for himself that goes against the wishes of the Crows.

The Veil Jumpers

The Veil Jumpers were first introduced in The Missing #3. They are a group made up of primarily Dalish elves, though also inclusive of other folks of any walks of life willing to help, working to try and control the new threats within Arlathan Forest. The forest has become a ground of chaotic magic, with the Veil so thin that time and place is jumbled together. Thus, the Veil Jumpers move in and out of the spots that bleed into one another.

The Veil Jumpers do have a headquarters called “The Sanctum”, but we know nothing else about it.

The Lords of Fortune

Despite the Lords of Fortune being mentioned in more than one Tevinter Nights story, as well as the show Dragon Age: Absolution, we don’t know a lot about them. The only concrete information provided is that they are a loose group of people who collect trinkets and glory. They come out of Rivain. They typically wear a lot of their collected trinkets like badges of honour. That’s really all there is, so I can’t wait to learn more.

[ode2rin]

1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ

summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.

content/warnings. 5k+ wc (part 1/3) reader has little to no college friends | reader hates kaiser's guts | PROTECTIVE kaiser lol | | pet names (dollface) & a lot of profanity (it's kaiser) | minimal proofread

💭 masterlist | next part

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”

Your ears were ringing.

After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.

“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.

Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.

Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.

Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.

You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending).  You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.

“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.

“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”

“We?”

“Kaiser is downstairs.”

Of course, he is. 

Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.

You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge. 

If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.

“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.

“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”

In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”

“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”

“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”

Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.

Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”

“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.

“Fuck off.” 

“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.

You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.

You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.

You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.

Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.

If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.

Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.

“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.

“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.

“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”

Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.

“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.

Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”

“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.

Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.

Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.

Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.

But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.

“I swear to god this better be important–”

“Get ready,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Look out your window.”

Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.

Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.

“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.

You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.

It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.

It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.

“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”

He’s taking me to it? “Why?”

Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.

“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.

You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face. 

The first one today.

Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.

But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.

You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.

And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.

“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.

Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?

“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”

Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.

Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.

“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”

“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate. 

Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.

Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.

It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.

You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”

Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”

Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?” 

“Call me by my name.”

“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”

“The one you used to call me.”

Mikka.

It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.

You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.

“I’m Michael.”

“That’s… long.”

“What?”

“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”

“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.

“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.

He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.

“Same thing.”

“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”

“Your point?” you countered.

“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.

“He was nice to me!”

“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”

You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.

“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.

Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.

“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”

“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap.  Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.

“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”

“And you? Are you a gentleman?”

Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.

Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.

Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.

When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”

He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

“Especially not one, doll.”

“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.

Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.

The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage. 

Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.

Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.

He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.

“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.

The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.

“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected. 

From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.

After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.

You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.

Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.

As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).

“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.

“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”

Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”

You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.

But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.

“You should be flattered.”

Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”

“Accepted.”

If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.

At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning. 

You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”

The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”

“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”

“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.

If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.

Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.

Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.

“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”

If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.

You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.

Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”

“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted. 

“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”

You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”

“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.

Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.

“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.

“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.” 

“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.

Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.

You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.

“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.

Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea. 

Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?” 

Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty. 

And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.

But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it. 

If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.

Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.

“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.” 

Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.

You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.

“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.

“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”

“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”

“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.

“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”

“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.

Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.

“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”

What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.

“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”

“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”

The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”

“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”

What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.

He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs. 

And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter. 

His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.

Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.

Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.

“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious. 

As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.

“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.

Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.

“Easy, doll.” 

Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.

Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”

The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.

Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street. 

Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.

He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.

Damn it, doll.

Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.

Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.

The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.

It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.

Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.

It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser. 

The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways. 

What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?

Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.

Just then, a knock on the door startled you.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.

Shit.

note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!

[syn0vial]

BG3 Companions' Reactions Following Scratch's Permadeath

The following lines are triggered when a character throws Scratch's ball after he's been permakilled (AKA, killed at camp rather than just as a summon).

Astarion

Good riddance to the dog. Who'd miss that waggy little tail... (devnote: Pretending not to be sad and failing)

Does it have a sad squeak now? Is that even possible?

I suppose I'll just pick it up myself.

Can't believe the stupid dog isn't here to get the stupid ball. (devnote: Pretending not to be sad and failing)

Gale

You were an excellent friend, Scratch - and that's coming from a cat-lover.

I hope there's balls and bones galore, wherever you are...

Poor Scratch. I'm lucky to have met you.

I hope Scratch doesn't miss his ball, wherever he is...

Karlach

I miss my dog.

Here, pup. (devnote: Sadly. The dog is dead and she knows this.)

Why am I doing this to myself?

Scratch should be here. With his family.

Lae'zel

It's not much fun alone.

I really don't know what I thought would happen.

Solo fetch. A miserable pastime.

Can't believe I'm going to say this, but - I miss Scratch.

Shadowheart

I need to stop doing this to myself...

I didn't do this enough, when I had the chance.

I hope Scratch has a new ball to play with, wherever he is...

It's silly... part of me felt like Scratch might still show up for his ball.

Wyll

Fetch isn't much of a solo game.

Damn. I miss the furry fellow.

For old times' sake.

I miss you, Scratch.

Halsin

I hope you are happy, wherever you are.

I am sorry, Scratch

I torment myself - Scratch is not going to come

Poor Scratch. I hope he is at peace.

Jaheira

Enough. This isn't helping anyone.

You deserved better, boy

Gods, but you'd miss the fuss. The noise. Gods above, even the smell.

Pointless, without a pup to chase it.

Minsc

Scratch, come and... oh. How could I forget he was gone, Boo?

No game of fetch will bring Scratch back from death.

I know he is gone, Boo, but... perhaps this is a way of keeping him alive, no?

I miss him, Boo.

Minthara

Everyone assumes I killed the dog. I liked the dog. (devnote: talking to herself. Comic edge to this.)

Scratch reminded me of my first displacer beast. A noble creature.

Withers! Be a good skeleton and fetch that ball. (devnote: joking—doesn't actually expect Withers to fetch the ball she just threw)

Gah. I miss the damn dog. (devnote: surprised by her own feelings)

[aerynwrites]

Longing

Halsin x Fem!Reader

A/N: I have been burning with an intense CRAVING for Halsin and there is such little fic about him (although there are some good ones out there 👀) so I had to do my part and add to the pool 😏 hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is insecure about her virginity, talks of inexperience, love confessions, Halsin is a sweetheart, references to NSFW content. Very very minor spoilers for act 2.

Part 2

The fur of the rabbit is soft between your fingers as you prepare it. Yet, despite having a knife in your other hand and your task being a delicate one, you can’t seem to focus.

Your eyes keep drifting back to the druid across camp chopping wood for the fire. The axe is a large one, heavy - heavier than you’d be able to lift. Yet the large elf manages to bring it up above his head and swing it back down with a grace you never understood how he possessed.

The muscles in his shoulders ripple with each movement, accompanying the rythmic thump of the axe through wood. His soft grunts as he pulls it from the stump he’s using before placing the next log onto the surface and starting the process all over again.

“The rabbit is already dead, darling.”

The familiar voice rips you from your staring as your head whips around to see none other than your vampiric companion standing over you, a smirk tugging at his lips. You huff at him before looking down to the rabbit by your knees and heat rushes to your cheeks. What should have been a simple skinning job to get the meat ready for dinner has turned into a mess. Cuts in the wrong places, the hide nowhere near usable anymore.

You look back up just in time to see Astarions red eyes go from you, to Halsin, then back again. His smile grows. He shifts his feet, one arm resting across his chest as he gestures with his other to Halsin.

“You know, you could paint a portrait. It would last longer.”

Your cheeks somehow get even hotter, as you turn back to the rabbit in front of you, doing a much better job than earlier.

“Leave me alone, Astarion,” you mumble, cursing internally when the elf lowers himself to the ground beside you, arms resting on his knees.

“And why would I do that, when teasing you gives me so much joy?”

You can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Okay, well you got me all flustered. So now that’s out of the way, did you need something or did you really interrupt your reading to bother me?”

The vampire sighs, leaning back on his hands as he looks over to you. “What I need is for you to finally jump that druids bones.”

You nearly choke as the words leave his lips, looking around to see if anyone heard and feeling heat creep up your neck once more as you see Shadowheart failing to hide a chuckle.

You turn to face your friend, eyes narrowed. “Could you be a little more quiet? I don’t need the whole camp hearing you.”

Astarion laughs this time, loudly, and it draws more glances than you’d like. You roughly shove the man next to you before he can speak.

“Your next words better be a whisper or I’m going to stab you ” you threaten, poking the knife in his direction.

Astarion places a hand over his heart, faux hurt in his eyes. “You wound me, darling. I’m just trying to help you. Plus,” he gestures to the camp, “it’s not like your attraction is a secret, nor Halsin’s.”

You shake your head turning back to grab another rabbit, embarrassment welling up in your chest. “He doesn’t…” you trail off, getting defensive. “Nothing’s there, Astarion. So can we please just drop it?”

Of course, he doesn’t.

“Look,” he starts, “all I’m trying to say is that neither of you are benefiting from holding back so…indulge, for once. Gods know we all deserve it.”

You ignore him. Curling in on yourself at the mention of…indulging. There nothing wrong with it of course. Everyone at camp has blown off steam along this adventure. Just…not you.

And the vampire must be able to tell too, because at your silence he straightens up, brows pinching in the rare way that shows he’s concerned.

“Wait, have you never…?” he gestures vaguely in the air.

His words, despite their genuine curiosity, strike a chord in you. You stand abruptly, tossing your work to the ground and stabbing your knife in the dirt.

“No I haven’t. Not that it’s any of your business.” Your words are louder than you intended and draw the eyes and ears of your other companions.

Astarion softens, obviously not expecting this reaction. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“

You clench your fists at your sides, interrupting him. “You never mean to Astarion but -“ You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. “You’re such an ass sometimes.”

You turn on your heel and storm from camp before anyone can stop you, ignoring the concerned gaze of a certain druid.

———

The water is cool against your skin as you squat by the stream’s edge, rubbing at your hands as you try to get the blood off of them.

You feel foolish now, storming off like that. But Astarion pointing out your inexperience just struck you. It’s not something that’s ever bothered you before. Especially not in recent months since dealing with the tadpole. You all have more important things to worry about.

But the moment you rescued Halsin…it’s like something changed. You were instantly drawn to him. His kind smile and thoughtful words. His care for everyone and everything in nature.

And he flirted with you.

The memory is still fresh in your mind. The night of the tiefling party after you had stopped the ritual at the druid camp and saved Halsin. You were worried you were talking his ear off, but he was attentive the whole conversation. Answering your questions and asking some about you.

Then he said those honeyed words. Suggested celebrating by spending the night with someone special. Implied he would spend it with you if his mind wasn’t elsewhere.

You withdraw your hands from the water to drag them down your face as more memories surface.

More flirtatious banter and kind words. Thoughtful conversations and fighting side by side. The night sat by your bedside nursing you back to health after a particularly nasty fight. After Ketheric Thorm almost took you out.

Your side still aches with the memory. But the thought of his hands with their soothing healing glow, makes the ache subside.

You sigh, sitting back into the grass as your eyes lock onto the slowly gurgling stream, Astarion words playing over and over in your head.

Indulge, for once.

You want to. Gods do you want that.

You’ve spent many sleepless nights thinking about it. About his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, the sweet words he��d no doubt whisper against your ear.

You shudder at the thought before shoving it away. Because any time he hinted at that - showed any interest in you - you would be so elated before insecurity took over.

Halsin’s views on love and intimacy are no secret. You’d asked him once about current lovers and while he did confide no one currently held his affections back home he also expressed that there were others in the past.

Others. Plural.

And you’ve never been with anyone. Not physically or emotionally, you’ve never trusted anyone enough.

Not until now.

You sigh, frustration creeping back in as you press the heels of your palms into your eyes before quickly standing up. You need to apologize to Astarion and finally, maybe, talk to Halsin.

You turn on your heel to do just that when you run straight into a solid mass. You gasp, stumbling backwards just as two strong hands reach out to steady you, gripping your wrists firmly.

Once steady, you look up to see none other than the man haunting your thoughts smiling down at you.

“You must have been very deep in thought for someone like me to sneak up on you, little one.”

You have to suppress a shiver at the nickname. A moniker he’d given you since you teased him about his size at the beginning of your friendship.

You shake your head, moving to step away and only stopping when his hands let go only to slip down and take your own gently.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I was just…thinking.”

Halsin stares at you for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face before he steps away, gesturing down the first path, one hand still in your own.

“Walk with me?” he asks. “I know being in nature helps me clear my head of even the darkest thoughts.”

You give a hesitant nod and follow him as he turns towards the path, not able to stop the smile when he doesn’t drop your hand.

———

The walk is mostly silent, a comfortable silence, but silent nonetheless. And you are grateful for it, not sure what you would say if Halsin were to ask what has you so upset.

But, silence can’t last forever it seems, because eventually the large Druid breaks through the sounds of nature surrounding you to speak.

“I overheard your conversation with Astarion,” he says, voice gentle. Probing, but not not forcing you to talk if you do not wish.

You stiffen, your pace slowing slightly, wanting to pull away from the man at your side. But his sure grip on your hand keeps you in place. The warmth of his skin on yours puts you slightly at ease.

“You…you heard that?” you ask, cringing internally. “You were across camp.”

The druid chuckles, gesturing to his ears with his free hand. “One of the curses of us elves. Impeccable hearing. Even when we don’t wish for it.”

You can feel your shoulders creeping up to your ears. Embarrassment settling in once more. “You were listening to us? To me?”

Halsin shrugs. “Not intentionally,” he admits, slowing his steps until you’re both stopped and he’s facing you. “But I find my attention turning towards you more often than not these days.”

His words tie your tongue and before you can gather enough sense to respond he continues.

“Nature works in mysterious ways, little one,” he tells you, eyes never leaving your face. “There is no one way to traverse it, and others journey do not define your own. Each one is unique, as it is intended.”

His words are beautifully woven, as always. And despite his cryptic deliverance, you know the meaning behind his words.

He’s comforting you. And once again, he speaks before you can detangle the jumble of thoughts in your head.

“And,” he reaches out, placing a curled finger beneath your chin to urge you to look up at him, “if it’s any encouragement, I seek you out as much as you do me. Possibly more so.”

Your eyes widen, heart stuttering in your chest at his words. He…does he feel the same way? Rationally you know he does. But that ever familiar self doubt, the tiny voice in your mind has always brushed away the flirting - the kind words and gentle touches as just part of his nature. None of it is reserved just for you.

Right?

Halsin smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners gently as he looks down at you. “Is that really such an outlandish thought? That I return your affections?” He pauses, “unless my heart has run ahead of itself and I have misread-“

You stop him then, reaching up to place a staying hand on his own beneath your chin.

“No! You haven’t…you haven’t misread,” you assure him, trying to still your racing heart.

His smile never falters, his other hand finally coming up to cradle the back of your head, teasing soft strands of hair between his fingers.

“That is good to hear,” he says, pulling you ever closer, his nose almost brushing yours, “it puts this old druid's mind at rest.”

Gods, you can’t breathe. The air in your lungs refusing to expel as he lean even closer, lips a hairbreadth away from your own. Your body sings with anticipation, your skin hot despite the cool air ushered in by the sun sinking below the horizon, the days last rays barely filtering through the trees.

“Can I kiss you, my heart?”

Halsins words are soft, barley a whisper and nearly drowned out by the sounds of nature around you and the roaring of blood in your ears.

You nod. “Please-“

The word barely passes your lips before he descends upon you, sealing his mouth with your own.

It’s both everything you expected and completely surprising at the same time. His hands are sure as he pulls you into him, one hand still cradling your head as the other slips down to your hip before wrapping around your waist. Yet his lips, the kiss itself is…soft. Gentle. Loving. The action speaks louder than any words either of you have said to one another. Louder than the words you never worked up the courage to speak.

Finally, your mind catches up with you, and your hands slide up his chest to clutch tentatively at his shoulders.

Halsins still hasn’t broken away from you, and when his tongue brushes against your lips you let him in. You tug him closer then, one of your hands sliding up to rest at the back of his neck eliminating any empty space between you as his tongue slides against your own.

He only pulls away when he must sense your need for air, but he doesn’t go far, lips pressing gently to the corner of your own, and then another to your jaw.

You’re breathless.

Chest heaving against him, as he pulls away just enough to look at you once more.

“As much as I’d love to continue…” his hand squeezes your hip gently, “we should make our way back to camp. I can imagine our absence as stirred gossip with our vampiric companion and..” he sighs, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

You can’t surprise the shiver that runs down your spine, or the smile that tugs at your lips.

“I’m…I’m okay being overwhelmed if it’s like that,” you tell him breathlessly.

Halsin laughs, a deep down genuine laugh that makes your heart sing even as he steps away from you.

“Then I will overwhelm you in all the ways I know how.” He promises, eyes trailing over you heatedly.

Your stomach does a flip at his words, and the effect they have on you must show on your face because Halsin chuckles again, leaning in to press one last kiss to your cheek before tugging you back in the direction towards camp.

“Another night, my heart,” he says, thumb brushing over your knuckles from where your hand remains in his own.

You let out a shaky breath, and nod, smiling as you walk closer to him. “I’m holding you to that.”

“I hope you would, though I doubt I will forget such a promise,” he assures before letting silence blanket you both one more.

You can’t stop the thrill that runs through you at his words.

Yes, I’ll hold you to that promise indeed.

[felassan]

New today from IGN: 'Dragon Age: The Veilguard's Devs Reveal New Info About Each of the Companions (and Solas and Varric, Too)'

It turns out The Veilguard really is the friends we made along the way.

Intro:

"Friendships, romantic relationships, and everything in between have always been an integral part of not just the Dragon Age series, but of BioWare in general. From Mass Effect’s Garrus Vakarian to Dragon Age’s Varric Tethras, the characters – and how they get along with the player – are inseparable from titles from the studio. But, perhaps more than any other BioWare game, Dragon Age: The Veilguard is leaning in heavily on this idea, as it’s already easy to see from the marketing material. For one, the name changed from Dragon Age: Dreadwolf back in June, with BioWare general manager Gary McKay telling us at the time that it was out of a desire to shift the focus to a “really deep and compelling group of companions.” That would be followed by a first official trailer at Summer Game Fest that put the focus squarely on seven new companions that will be tagging along with the player character, Rook, in The Veilguard. With all that in mind, it’s little surprise to hear game director Corinne Busche talk about how these companions aren’t just central to the story of The Veilguard, but the gameplay and combat as well. “Building a relationship with companions has always been a staple of Dragon Age, but this time around, that relationship translates into how well you work together as a team,” Busche tells IGN. “It is how you're actually going to level up your companions, by getting to know them better. That's how you're going to unlock skill points. So when you look at all of the various abilities the companions have, there's inherent combos and synergies and roles that they'll have on the battlefield.” She uses the example of Neve, the mysterious detective mage who has a wildly useful special ability to slow time in combat. “But if I really get the opportunity to know her,” Busche explains, “whether it's platonic or romantic, I'm going to help be able to shape her skills and augment those abilities that work really well with my own personal build, so our sense of teamwork really deepens.” During our time with the game, IGN got to see some of this in action; unsurprisingly, Dragon Age: The Veilguard has an approval/disapproval system, with pop-up text on the side of the screen indicating whether or not a companion liked what Rook just did or said. But something new in this Dragon Age: even just completing a quest with a companion in your party increases your “bond” with them, whether they agree with how you handled things or not. Your relationship, Busche says, isn’t necessarily about “how much they like you, but how well you get to know them.” “This is about a found family,” Busche tells us. “That is, they have the same goals, different complications in their life, but they're all giving everything they have to defend Thedas. You're going to get to know them really well. You're going to develop trust, understanding. That doesn't mean you're always going to agree.” But, we’ll have plenty more to say about the game systems and combat later. With Busche, we had the opportunity to really dive into the seven companions at the center of The Veilguard and what they’re all about. Here’s what she had to say about each one:"

"DAVRIN Busche: “When we were thinking about Davrin, how we were going to develop him as a character, we had to think about, 'How is he going to show up on the battlefield?' And it was unique because he has this, I guess you could say, companion of his own, the griffon Assan. That makes him, as a companion, very unique, because Assan shows up on the battlefield. So we had to think about how that integrates into his abilities, where Davrin as a Grey Warden is capable on his own, but also, when does he call upon Assan and what does that look like? What happens if you're indoors?... And indeed, when you're doing some of Davrin's content, just seeing Assan gliding through the environments, you really get a sense that they care and they're protective about each other. “…When we think about Davrin and his being the representative of the Grey Wardens within the team of The Veilguard, it was an opportunity for us to really go back to some of those roots that we know our fans, our players, deeply care about. Dragon Age: Origins, of course, was so Grey Warden-forward. We want to evoke those memories, those connections that our players have. And I absolutely love when you're journeying with Davrin, not only his aesthetic, how he carries himself as a Warden, but how he interacts with his fellow Wardens. The little wrinkle of, 'Hey, there actually are some griffons remaining in Thedas,' how he learns as a Warden to train and interact with these griffons that, to our knowledge, haven't existed for quite some time, it's a learning experience on a lost art of the Grey Wardens that is really unique to Davrin's character.”"

"HARDING Busche: “To talk about Harding as a companion, I guess I'd have to go back to Inquisition. Of course, Harding showed up. She was your scout on the field. There was a light romance with her, and I think one of the things that the team didn't quite expect is how much Harding would catch on in Inquisition. Players fell in love with her, and we heard them. They wanted a deeper romance, they wanted more engagement with Harding. So for the team, I felt like it was kind of a no-brainer for us to bring back Harding, and we also wanted to reestablish that connection to the Inquisition in the world of Thedas, which occurred 10 years ago, the events of Inquisition. “Harding serves as our proxy back to those events, and you get to learn about what's happened with the Inquisition since, so she presents some really lovely opportunities for us. I will say, personality-wise and her role on the battlefield, she is among my favorites. When you see her leap into the air, unleashing these devastating attacks with her bow and arrow, I just can't get enough of her.”"

"TAASH Busche: “Taash, in the creation of their arc, is one of our more complex characters. It's a journey along their arc that is about introspection. 'Where do I belong in the world? What are my boundaries? What do I fight for? How do I become at peace with who I am?' So I love the juxtaposition, actually, between Taash's personal journey and this imposing literal dragon slayer, that sort of hard exterior and really gentle interior. It makes Taash a really special companion for me.” (When asked which companion had the steamiest romance): “I'll just speak for me personally, but at the culmination of the romance arcs, I'd have to say Taash. When I got to that scene and saw the finished version of that cinematic, I was hollering. Hollering.”"

"EMMRICH Busche: “The thing about Emmrich that is going to surprise our fans the most is his relationship with necromancy. I really love that we kind of turned the idea of a necromancer on its head here, where you think of them as these conjurers of evil, the certain malice when you hear the term 'necromancer,' but it couldn't be farther from the truth for Emmrich. There is a reverence about the dead. He has a unique relationship with death. You get to explore how he ended up in the Mourn Watch. Death has shaped this character in all aspects of his life, and we frequently refer to him as our gentleman necromancer. I think his proper, kind nature stems from that respect that he's learned about this cycle of life and death throughout his life. “Manfred is like a son to Emmrich. He very much has an affinity for this wisp, this life force that he's given a second chance through this skeletal body, and in many ways, it's the story of a parent raising a child. Emmrich, he needs to teach Manfred and help him along to develop as a character of their own, things like learning new skills, how to assist The Veilguard. Some of our most charming moments are in dealing with Manfred, and I must say I absolutely love the interactions. They just have me rolling whenever Manfred steals the show. “…In my last playthrough, I romanced Emmrich. What I also loved is as I'm synergizing with him as we're doing combos, just having him refer to me as ‘my dear’ on the battlefield. ‘Well done, my dear!’ It just fills me with joy every time.”"

"LUCANIS Busche: “The character that went through the most changes [throughout development] without a doubt was Lucanis. Lucanis is very complex. He's an assassin. He is very skilled in the art of death. The Antivan Crows, they pursue these contracts with a certain level of dispassion, but also, Lucanis is a romantic, and he's dealing with some internal struggles. He's been through a lot of trauma. He's relearning how to trust. And all of those elements come together with a richness, but it creates a lot of complexity in how we tell that story. So I'd say Lucanis is the first one that comes to my mind in terms of the thought that's gone into it, where we've had to make adjustments to really cover all facets of his character.”"

"NEVE Busche: “Neve is our confident noir detective. I love to bring her onto the battlefield because she's just so incredibly capable. She's our ice mage, so really big on controlling the battlefield, and that's actually a good metaphor to her arc. She wants to fight for change. She wants to fight for a better Minrathous, and she's going to use all the tools at her disposal to try and reshape Minrathous into a better place for all. She's very much a Shadow Dragon. This is among the mantra of the Shadow Dragons. They operate from the shadows, fighting for a better Minrathous. So as this accomplished ice mage, she's fierce. She's not going to shy away from any challenge, whether it's taking down darkspawn or dealing with the Magisterium in Minrathous.”"

"BELLARA Busche: “Oh, my dear, sweet Bellara. I relate to Bellara a lot. She is joyous. She's been through a lot, but she remains curious, optimistic. She's kind of a geek. She really likes her fiction. She fangirls over Neve a little bit. She's just so relatable, and I think that's what our players will find and fall in love with when they get to meet Bellara, is just how much you'll recognize some of those patterns and sensibilities that she holds, but don't let it fool you. She is also a Veil Jumper. She's very comfortable in elven ruins. I frequently bring her with me in my party. I like to play rogue. I like to play the Veil Jumper, or the Veil Ranger. Bellara's a fantastic companion to set up that spec with electric vulnerabilities, so I love her both on and off the battlefield.”"

Bonus rounds:

"SOLAS Okay okay, so Solas isn’t technically one of your core companions who will travel with you, but given his place in the Dragon Age story, we still had to ask about his relationship with Rook. Here’s what Busche had to say: Busche: “Rook's relationship with Solas is a complicated one. Everyone has seen, at this point, the gameplay reveal and the opening moments of the game, so you'll know things got shaken up pretty radically for Solas already. He's trapped. He's basically communicating with you as an advisor, and I absolutely love that idea of, ‘He's your lifeline right now, but can you trust him?’ And those touch points with him, ‘Do I take his advice or not? Can he be trusted? Is he going to betray me?’ All the while giving you this information that you absolutely need in order to be successful. “It creates an interesting stage for us, where, I think our fans will agree, Solas is very complicated. He firmly believes he's doing the right thing, and some of our fans will agree that he's trying to do the right thing. Others will not, and this creates a stage for you, the player, where you get to lean into those tendencies of your own as you're taking advice from Solas throughout parts of the game. I think those really interesting debates about, ‘Was he ever redeemable? Can he be trusted? Was he wrong all along?’ You're really going to be able to dive in deep on that.”"

"VARRIC Varric, while a part of Dragon Age: The Veilguard and a series mainstay, isn’t part of your core companions either. But, as fans can see in the trailers, he’s still very much in The Veilguard, so we asked Dragon Age creative director John Epler about how he’s changed since we last saw him in Inquisition: Epler: “Since the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition, he has spent the time, just briefly, obviously, [serving as] Viscount of Kirkwall. I mean, anybody who knows much about Varric knows how well a job where he sits around and tells people what to do is going to sit with him. He has been participating in the hunt for Solas. And I think for Varric in particular, that's a very difficult thing for him to do because Solas is his friend. Solas is somebody that he grew close to over the events of Inquisition. They adventure together, they work together. “And now knowing who Solas really is, that eats at Varric. Because Varric always sees, Varric believes he can always make somebody do the right thing. Varric believes he is the most convincing, charismatic, because he cares about people. And he has this belief that as long as I get a chance to talk to Solas, I'm going to be able to turn him. But as he's seeing what Solas' ritual is doing to the world around him, as he experienced in the comics, Dragon Age: The Missing, that eats at him a little bit. That's challenging his world view of him as always being the best judge of people, being able to see that somebody is able to be redeemed. And he's starting to question a little bit, ‘am I right or am I being a fool by believing in Solas?’ ”"

[source]

[sh1-n0bu]

yall really thought i was done with monster reader? nuh uh. VAMPIRE READER WITH A SHY MONSTERFUCKER CHARACTER

a shy monsterfucker who didn’t knew they were a monsterfucker yet, who didn’t knew of the kinks they had yet to awaken in themselves, who only thought of themselves as vanilla meeting you for the first time and thinking that you feel not so human. don’t get them wrong, there was nothing about you that was out of place. you looked human but you just… didn’t really felt like it at times

maybe it was the way you sometimes yawned and your jaws opened just a little bit too wide. maybe it was the way you were able to see so damn well in the darkness, eyes sometimes nearly glowing until they shake their head and your eyes looked just fine. maybe it was the way they slowly noticed that you barely ate anything whenever you hung out together, merely ordering a black coffee with extra shots or asking for the black coffee to be made just a little bit thicker. maybe it was the way your smile stretched just a little bit too big to be normal, sharp fangs and canines glistening

either way, you didn’t feel normal. you didn’t feel entirely… human, to them. but they find themselves shrugging it off, still thinking of you as their friend and a close companion

it all gets thrown out when you go radio silent one day. no phone calls, no notifications, no messages or hell, letters. just silence. worried sick, they make their way over to your house, using the spare key you gifted them and stepping inside to a dark and messy home. blinds closed shut, home miserable and, were those claw tears in the back of the couch?

feeling their guts churning with the desire to run away, they call out your name under their breath, akin to a whisper. when receiving no response, they call out again, feeling like they want to run away as they think of their choices. only a one step deeper into your messy home and their vision was swimming, being slammed down onto the floor as something hisses above them before it trails off into a low laugh. dazed, they open their eyes to find… you. except, it wasn’t really you. glowing slitted eyes, wide smile and a sense of danger

“fresh prey, walking straight into my grasp. must be my lucky day…” even your voice sounded weird, as if two people were talking at the same time. one, your normal voice and the other more high pitched. like how some creatures’ voice becomes higher pitched to mimic others and lure prey into their grasp. like… a monster

they tried to flee, to talk sense into you, fear and desperation tugging at their heart as their words trail off into a terrified whimper when your jaws open just a little bit wider, slits appearing at the sides as a long forked tongue runs over knife like sharp fangs before closing again. this felt like a nightmare, something they never really thought of happening before. they could only look away, tears stinging in their eyes when your clawed, stretched fingers tear off a piece of their shirt’s neck area open, thinking that you will tear them apart like how you just did with their clothes just now

a shy monsterfucker who lets out a yelp when they feel a wet feeling on their neck, something long and wet slithering over the skin as if softening the flesh there. despite the fear churning their stomach, they couldn’t help but whine out as their body suddenly started to feel hot. so needy and pathetically hard and wet in their pants like a hormonal teenager as they stare at your long tongue. even as you laugh at the flushed look on their face and make some demeaning remark, all they could do was stare

and to their own horror, they let out a fucking moan when your sharp fangs bite down on the same place you just licked at, head thrown back onto the floor as a loud plea for more falls from their lips. pleas of biting their neck more, tear their flesh apart with your fangs, clench down those strong jaws, absolutely ruin them to your own pleasure. they didn’t get it, wasn’t it supposed to hurt? at least, from all the movies and books, but no, it felt good. even as their blood gets drawn out and your canines dig into their flesh, tearing the skin apart, all they could do was moan out loud like a desperate harlot. mind muddled and body twisting to weakly hump at your knee between their legs, even as your jaws let go of their neck and licked the wounds close, they could only whimper at the loss of the feeling

the next morning, they woke up in your bed, surrounded in comfort and soft beddings. was… last night a dream? were they imagining it all? a wet dream?

their confused brain stops whirring question and theory after one another as the door to the room opens, you stepping in with a cup of steaming hot tea in your hand and a plate of some fruits cut into small pieces in the other. looking just fine and normal, no fangs, no blood, no strange slits at the corner of your mouths, no long slithering tongue, just a normal [name], albeit a tiny bit worried. so it was all just a wet dream…

since that day and that strangely realistic dream that the shy monsterfucker thought they had, it became a bit hard for them to look you in the eye and hold a normal conversation. they were fucking embarrassed, hell ashamed even, by their own thoughts that conjured up such image of you in their own sleep. they always knew you gave off an eerie, not-so-very-human vibes but even then, imagining you as a goddamn vampire who saw them as your prey was... a little bit too much. they didn't even found vampires attractive, but if you were to somehow magically turn into one, maybe they wouldn't mind it much. of being your bloodbag, your sweet prey, your willing sacrificial lamb that you toy and flaunt like a trophy pet

shy monsterfucker who gets too sexually frustrated easily ever since that one specific dream, always staring into your mouth whenever you're looking away and talking or laughing, hoping to see a glimpse of an unusually sharp fangs. who think they do indeed see something and immediately lets out a quiet whimper, thighs squishing and rubbing together as that one dream plays out in their mind again. who excuses themselves from the hang out earlier so they can go home under the guise of a "not feeling very good today", when in reality they would be touching themselves again that night, humping their pillows with pathetic broken moans of your name. sometimes, when feeling bolder, they would say the same pleads they did in their dream, asking you to bite them as they throw their heads back, neck free and pristine. if they shut their eyes tight and imagined hard enough, they could remember the phantom feeling of your slithered tongue running over their skin. humping at their pillow harder with a broken sob of your name as their body shakes, soiling their pillow case with their own cum again for the nth time in the last 2 days, changing it once more

they didn't get it, they usually had just a normal amount of sex drive, who barely got horny unless they were intoxicated or something. this newfound sexual frustration was weird to them. new and scary with the ways it left their body all hot and bothered just by looking at you. staring, waiting and gulping down saliva to wet their throat as their mind goes to the gutter. imagining your clawed hands trailing over their bare skin, maybe leave a few small cuts if you feel like it, hold over their hips a bit too tightly to leave a bruise, bite at their porcelain skin. would you make them your personal bloodbag if they acted good and begged hard enough?

shy monsterfucker who gets caught, mind too fuzzy with filthy thoughts as they moaned out your name into their pillows as you invite yourself inside their home with a bag of fresh fruits that you bought for them to get better, the spare key they gifted you in your hand. who didn’t knew they were caught, thinking of it as simply one of their imaginations again as they see you standing on the doorway to their room, leaning on the doorframe with a low hum

“i knew i used too much calming saliva on you” you say out loud, only getting a broken whimper of your name as their fingers curl inside their hole, tired and confused. vampires had a special aphrodisiac like mixture in their saliva that they used to calm their prey before feasting and to their bad luck, you have accidentally used an excessive amount when you drank from them few days ago

“[n-naameee]♡︎ ahck t-touch me! touch me, please♡︎…?” they cried out, hearts swirling in their pupils, face flushed to the tips of their ears as they whined out deliriously with an open mouth. a sweet prey, right in your grasp. since you were the one to cause it, it would only be right to fix your mistakes right? cooing out words of faux comfort, you step over their sweat clung body, taking in the way they looked so out of it. all wet and hard, too dazed to even say your name properly

shy monsterfucker who immediately lets out a squeal when your fingers push into their hole, while their own fingers were inside too! please be gentle, at least let them get their own fingers out first? who only could let out a broken sob when they could feel how deep your fingers curled inside them, feeling the way your fingers stretched and fucked their pathetic hole open easily. they were nothing but just a weak sex toy for you, a meager little bunny whose legs twitched and shook every time the pads of your fingers jabbed at that bundle of nerves inside them, squeaking like the precious little thing they were

“baahn—! aangh ah haang buh-bite..?” they asked, teary eyes staring up at you with so much love and lust as their wet lashes flutter against their red cheeks. “b-bite me♡︎..? aamh haah i... i’ve been such a go-ooddd♡︎♡︎ good bloodbag for yoouu♥︎!!” they blabber on, arm wrapping around your shoulder as they try to pull you down to their neck. the bite mark of a few days earlier already gone and healed thanks to your healing saliva. you could just hear the thrumming of fresh red liquid from under their skin, heart beat loud and erratic like a war-drum, begging you to tear them apart

shy monsterfucker who lets out the loudest moan, breaking down into pathetic blabbers of gratitude and pleads for more as you gave in to the instincts to feed. back arching up from the bed so prettily, soft chest against your own, a rapid beating heart under their own skin that you could feel against your cold, still one. shy monsterfucker who lets out a filthy squeal, tightening around your fingers as they cum on your hand, soiling it as the tears that built up in their heart pupil eyes finally fall down

shy monsterfucker who begs for a kiss, asking for your lips to be against their own. who lets out a cute muffled sob when you do just as they asked, tasting the metallic taste of their own blood on your lips before something long slithers down their throat. long and wet with a thicker textured saliva coating it, being pushed into their mouth, forcing their jaws open as they choke of their own moan as you continue to torture that tender spot inside their tight hole. gagging as your tongue slithers down their throat, feeling the way their adam’s apple feels a little bit wider due to how deep you showed your tongue inside their mouth

shy monsterfucker who could only cum dry, into your hands, tired and body aching due to their constant actions to try and relieve their sexual frustration. mouth left open, swollen lips wet with your mixed salivas that connect your faces just a little bit longer as your forked tongue comes slithering back out. eyes all hazy, nearly shut close with how low lidded they were. you would have mistaken them for unconscious if it weren’t for the weak whimper of a “mmghh—! s-shoo goowd♥︎ t-tongue... wan’ your tongue inside meegh♡︎♡︎” as they weakly wiggled their hips

shy monsterfucker who watches as you seemingly easily manhandle their body so you could do as they nicely asked, their strong body meaning nothing to you. who watches with their hands on the pillows by their head, neck painted a saccharine red that you loved, lust heavy eyes staring at you as a few tears fall from them. who lets out a broken sob as they see the way your jaws open a bit too wide, slits appearing at the edges of your lips to make it easier for your long tongue to come out. like a snake, it licks at their inner thighs, bloodied fangs leaving cuts on the tender flesh there as their legs violently trembled in your grasp

shy monsterfucker who chokes on their moans, head getting thrown back as your tongue pushes past their tight walls, eagerly humping your face as much as their shaking body could allow, feeling the way your tongue reached deep inside them — more than any meager sex toys or dildos ever could, twisting their insides. wailing out “guhhckk♥︎♥︎! s-sho deEEHNGK♡︎ y-your tongue— f-fuckinnh aanh nyah♥︎!! fuckinng my guts! aah ngaah—♥︎!” as they felt the way your tongue moved back and forth inside their hole, claws digging into their legs and thighs to keep them in place, forcing them to keep their legs open. who blabbers drunkenly about their mind melting, mushing up their words as they slur your name before fucking squirting. shrill noise between a moan and a squeal falling from their swollen lips before losing consciousness

shy monsterfucker who will most definitely ask you to bite them again the next time they wake up

⇨ dan heng, yingxing, argenti, moze, bronya, firefly, gepard, robin, caelus, yukong, legolas, lindir, meludir, baizhu, charlotte, diluc, furina, ganyu, kaveh, nilou, kokomi, xiao, calcharo, jiyan, xiangli yao, rover, zhezi, shorekeeper, aerith, zack, angeal, tifa, vincent, sephiroth + anyone you think will fit, really

[ozzgin]

Hii I was wondering if u could do a yandere Kazuya x yn x yandere Daitou I’m not sure if u do character x yn x character tho

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader Spinoff

Two yakuza men who have fallen in love with their new foreign tenant. A what-if spinoff to the original story for that love triangle spice. Happy Valentine's Day!

Content: female reader, NSFW, organized crime, obsessive behavior, violence, BDSM themes (choking), threats

Credits: My boyfriend for giving me the Daitou smut idea

[Main Story] | [General Headcanons]

Kazuya is sitting on the sidewalk, checking his watch occasionally and tapping his foot. The cigarette seems to have been forgotten, hanging lowly from his lips.

"Sorry I'm late." Daitou speedily makes his way towards his friend, smiling awkwardly.

"Where the fuck were you, man? We don't know how much time we have before the cops arrive."

"Uh uh, leave it to me." The cheeky grin doesn't leave his face as he pulls out his gun and carefully but swiftly inspects the barrel and safety one final time. "(Y/N) needed some help with the mailbox. I couldn't just say no, ya know?"

The blonde man's eyebrows raise for a second, but he quickly recollects himself.

"I see. That's good."

"She asked me to show her the area tomorrow, so I'll be working extra hard tonight. Hehe."

"That's good."

Daitou glances at Kazuya, somewhat wary.

"You okay?"

Stupid question. What's he supposed to answer? Yeah, he loves waiting like a dumbass while his friend flirts with the new tenant, who conveniently happens to be a cute foreigner, who's been unexpectedly nice and relaxed around them despite them explicitly stating they're part of the Japanese mafia. Fucking hell. It doesn't help that this idiot is as obvious as a blaring, blinding cluster of ads smack in the middle of Kabukicho. He can tell from miles away that Daitou's completely fallen for her. Just like that, in an instant.

They've been partners and best friends for years now, so the natural reaction would be happiness, right? Daitou has always been one scary motherfucker. Even the seniors scramble when he's in the room, let alone women. For him to find someone that isn't bothered the slightest by his appearance or background should be a celebratory occasion. Kazuya should be rooting for him. Except, well, he fell for you just as hard. Tough luck.

The Bushido moral code, often used as guidance within their own lifestyle, covers matters such as loyalty and honesty quite extensively. A true warrior remains fiercely faithful to his master or companions. And yet, love interests are more of a grey area, especially if they happen to overlap. Who dictates the proper etiquette for this dilemma? To whom is loyalty directed towards? Truth be told, Kazuya couldn’t care less. He’s always been a man of vice, impulsive and greedy. If he wants something, he takes it.

The trouble starts when the other person is of the same mindset. Two ferocious predators eyeing the same victim.

***

You fiddle next to the tall, dark-haired man. Similarly, Daitou is avoiding eye contact, looking around in hopes of finding something to focus on. It’s the first time he’s come over since the incident. After his little mission with Kazuya, he was tasked to “interrogate” some of the remaining members to get even more names for the hitlist. He’d completely forgotten about his promise to show you the neighborhood. Hands sticky with blood, he was in the middle of his signature act of benevolence, putting the lad out of his misery.

It was around that time you decided to be the one picking him up instead, for your grand tour. Your knocks on the door remained unheard, however, so you decided to politely make your way in.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not-”

You froze in place. A man (you assumed at least based on the few visible traits left), tied up on the chair, canvas bag roped around his head. Daitou’s hands were secured around his throat. In the few seconds of silence, you could hear a muffled wheezing, as the stranger’s chest heaved in short convulsions.

“-intruding.” You mumbled, regaining your speech.

He messed up, didn’t he? Daitou sighs and slicks his hair back. He can’t blame you if you’re now terrified of him. He had to come over for some tenant checkups and you’ve been maintaining a safe distance from him during his entire visit. What can he possibly tell you? “Hey, I know I threatened to chop you up and you’ve now witnessed firsthand I’m a legit murderer, but, uh…I have a crush on you? Dinner at seven?”

You’re terrified alright, but not of his deeds. Rather, your newly discovered perversion as a consequence of the gory scene. It’s not that you relished in the torment of another. It’s the other details that left you reminiscing. Daitou’s imposing frame, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his traditional tattoos glistening in beads of sweat, his flexed, brawny arms, and large hands. You’re scared of your shamelessness. It can’t be normal. Yet you can’t stop thinking about it. Just a glimpse into this memory and your cheeks become burning red.

“I’ll be on my way then”, the yakuza announces politely.

Though he immediately stops in his tracks, and you realize you’ve unconsciously grabbed onto his sleeve. Uh oh. What now? You mumble an apology without releasing your hold. Being this close to him makes your heart drum inside your chest.

To hell with it.

“I might say something terribly inappropriate right now, but…”

“Sorry?” He stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Do you have anything planned after this?” You ask quietly.

“N-no?”

“Would you mind staying over?”

“Huh? Sure…w-what for?” His mouth is dry, and he searches your eyes in confusion.

“You know…” Choke me until I pass out and such, you think to yourself sarcastically.

He turns to face you, lips pursed awkwardly.

“You’ll have to be clear with me, Miss (Y/N). I’m not good with all this tiptoeing around and I might get the wrong idea.”

Your ears perk up hearing his final words, a deep blush now spreading over your flustered features.

“What wrong idea?”

Daitou fidgets with his glass prosthetic nervously.

“Well, uh, a man can only dream, ya know? Especially around a cute girl like you.” He reveals with a stutter.

“Suppose I’d be willing to go along with anything on your mind. What then?” You twirl your hair, gazing shyly at the floor. Not even you can believe the audacity leaving your lips.

The tall man steps before you, towering above with a certain gleam in his eye. It’s yearning. Your knees weaken.

“Don’t tease me, please. I can hardly control myself around you as it is.”

You release his sleeve and instead cling onto his shirt with both hands, looking up through your lashes.

“I’m dead serious.”

He ponders his next move with a click of the tongue, then cups your cheeks between his hands and lowers himself until his hot breath tickles your nose.

“Are you? There’s no going back after this. Can you handle it?” His voice is suddenly deeper, raspier.

Before you can respond, you feel yourself lifted and you yelp, surprised, instinctively wrapping your limbs around the yakuza. In between the greedy kisses that leave your lips bruised and swollen, you don’t notice the movement back towards the seating area.

As you pull away to gasp for air, he throws you onto the couch, flipping you over in the process so that you’re kneeling away from him. Your nails dig into the soft fabric of the sofa. You hear Daitou unbuckle his belt and you squeeze your legs together, heavily aroused. He presses his palm gently into your back, arching it. You sense his fingers grazing over your core and you whimper.

“G-go on, please.” You beg, swaying your hips tentatively. “I really can’t wait anymore.”

“As you wish, Miss.” He reassures you with a grin.

He adjusts himself and carefully makes his way in. You don’t have time to enjoy the feeling; following almost instantly is his belt looped around your neck, tightening under his grip as he pulls the ends towards him. Your head is forced back, and you groan. You can hear the leather stretch and creak over your assaulted skin, the constriction briefly cutting your oxygen intake. Hot drool trickles down your chin and your eyes almost roll back in pleasure.

“Look at my little Miss (Y/N), taking it like a champion.” He bends over and bites your earlobe playfully. “Does that mean I can be as rough as I want?”

You nod erratically.

The grip around your throat intensifies and your vision becomes blurry.

“Hey, don’t pass out now.” He inserts two fingers in your mouth, pulling you by the cheek and tilting your head to look him in the eye. “Not before you show me that you understand your situation. You’re mine. Is that clear?”

He drags his fingers downwards, aiding your response as you struggle to contract your muscles.

“Attagirl.” He concludes, satisfied.

In the morning you wake up with a dreadful soreness, and you can quickly see why. Your body is peppered in bruises. Daitou is smoking by the window and promptly flicks his cigarette out once he realizes you’re no longer asleep.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He begins, remorseful, and squats in front of the bed. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I will need a day or two to recover before the next time, but otherwise I’m fine.”

He beams with delight upon registering your words: next time. You can’t help but snicker at his childish enthusiasm. It’s a mystery how Daitou can switch between ruthless killer and cute partner with such ease.

Although it’s no secret, really. It’s you.

***

“Thanks for driving me home, Kazuya.”

You smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. Daitou has been busy with work for the past days, so Kazuya took his place in looking after your needs.

“Huh?” You rattle the grab handle one more time to make sure. “It’s still locked.”

The blonde raps the wheel impatiently with his fingers. Is he to silently accept his loss? Does it even count as a loss when he hasn’t even had the chance to present his piece? Daitou has been quiet about it, but he can read that bastard like an open book. Something definitely happened between the two of you and the mere thought drives him insane.

Ah, this is so unlike him. There are few things he cares about. His pride, his Family’s honor, his freedom. Women aren’t exactly on that list, yet somehow, you’ve snuck your way to the very top of priorities and he’s realizing it just now. It’s becoming harder to ignore his maddening urge to have you. Out of all the things…He’d give Daitou the world. But not you. He can’t. He can’t.

“Kazuya? Are you listening? You forgot to unlock the door.”

“Say, (Y/N) …ever fucked in a car before?”

“What?” You ask, baffled.

“Come here for a moment.” He swiftly slides his seat all the way back and pats his thigh.

“Are you out of your mind?”

He answers your inquiry by pulling out his handgun and lazily pointing it towards you.

“I’m only going to ask once.”

You clumsily climb over the center console, straddling the yakuza with a slight pout.

“Someone’s in a sour mood, that’s for sure”, you complain. “It’s not even loaded.”

“Even I’m not crazy enough to risk shooting my Princess.” He smiles apologetically, throwing the gun on the backseat. “I thought it’d be more threatening that way.”

He removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you intently. His hand lingers for a second, before sliding its way down, tracing the side of your body. You shiver.

“Can you truly blame me when there’s such a pretty girl right before my eyes?” The blonde exhales and focuses on your shirt instead. “Won’t you let me prove myself?”

From this distance, despite the dim lights, you can discern his features in agonizing detail. His long lashes, his fleshy lips, currently parted, the luscious locks of hair casually thrown back. Kazuya has always been effortlessly handsome. It’s not just his good looks, but his overflowing charisma. He always knows exactly what to say and do. A devilish power to have over people, and you’re presently his victim.

His slender fingers play with your first button and cheekily undo it. You can only observe it, entranced. Your legs are weak, and your arms are stuck in place, resting limply over his broad shoulders.

“May I?” He glances up at you with a pleading expression. “I won’t be able to hold back afterwards.”

You bite your lower lip, distracted. Whether or not this is a wise choice, you can’t currently tell. You squirm in his lap and suddenly feel the pressure coming from below.

“Go ahead.” You finally confess.

He doesn’t hesitate and slithers his hand underneath your shirt, popping the rest of the buttons open. Like a hungry animal that has stumbled upon a feast, he sinks his teeth into your neck, leaving mean, wet kisses on his way down.

One hand is greedily kneading your curves, encouraged by your soft whimpers, while the other strokes your thigh in anticipation. With a bit of readjustment, he finds the right spot between your trembling legs. You jolt at the sensation of his cold fingers.

“My, you’re already dripping. How lewd.” He whispers between breaths. “Do you want it now?”

He nonchalantly slips out and undoes his own pants. You lift yourself expectantly and let a moan escape your lips upon feeling the erection throbbing right below.

“Well then, can’t forget our manners, can we?” He announces, visibly excited. “What should I do?”

You glare at him, feverish.

“Stop teasing me.”

“Come on, be a good girl. Tell me what to do and I will do it, Love.”

Why, this…You lower yourself to his ear and answer in a lulled whine.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to fuck me.”

Words enough to send the blonde man over the edge. He abruptly clutches your thighs for support, easing himself in before continuing with increasingly aggressive thrusts. Husky whimpers roll out of his mouth, desperate and starved.

“Oh, I’ve waited so long for this. My darling, perfect little (Y/N).” He presses his forehead into your chest, indulging in the moment. “Now say that you’re mine. Please. Please say it.”

“I’m…ah…I’m all yours, Kazuya.” You manage to blurt out, growing dizzy.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl.”

Once the deed is finished, you flop your head over his chest, trying to catch your breath. Kazuya smoothens your clothes meticulously, holding you with one arm for support. Can’t leave a lady all disheveled, after all.

“Won’t Daitou be upset?” You point out, somewhat anxiously.

His muscles are tense for a second and he furrows his brows.

“That’s one strange way to thank me for making you come at least twice. Mentioning another man’s name.”

“I’m just…” your words trail off.

“What? Worried? You think I can’t handle it or something?”

Far from the truth. Both Kazuya and Daitou are violent, dangerous men. Given their stubbornness, you’re rather certain they’d end up killing each other. Not your favorite outcome.

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

He sighs loudly.

“I’ll tell you what. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably dismember whoever had the guts to even entertain the idea of meddling with you. But…just because it’s Daitou, I might be willing to share. Nothing more than that.”

Kazuya ruffles your hair and chuckles.

“Aren’t you glad I’m such a diplomat, Love?”

“More like batshit crazy, both of you.” You retort, stretching.

[feyascorner]

jealousy looks good on you

summary. Astarion realizes you're jealous after a night out at the tavern where he must gather information from another. And him being him, teasing ensues.

warnings. fluff, idk just two idiots doing idiotic things, Tav here is good oriented, sorry to evil tav players,,,

pairing. Astarion x GN!reader

a/n. I love morons in love,,

You were not jealous. Especially not of that damned elf practically hanging off from his arm.

You'd encountered devils, walking brains, even the greatest of beasts during your adventures, yet not once have you felt nothing but utter annoyance. Like an obnoxious fly circling your head insistently no matter how much you swatted at it.

You'd never considered yourself possessive of your dearest companion. Sure, you were protective of him at times, but so were you with the rest of your group, especially knowing what each person had gone through in their lives. And while being lovers might've given an extra kick to that boundary, by no means were you excessively watching him like a hawk.

But now here you were, not watching him, but her.

Information, you remind yourself. You'd nearly forgotten why he was even tolerating her behavior in the first place, because even if he was flirtacious by nature, his tendencies narrowed down towards only you after your conversation at Moonrise. You knew he dreaded this as much as you, but the information that woman had was a must—and Astarion had insisted he could help out.

You were sincerely regretting even entertaining the idea now.

She has her chest pressed flush to the toned muscles of his arm, making sure he’s aware of what qualities she has to offer. With a bat of her lashes, she lets out a shrill laughter when he mumbles something, playfully hitting his chest as if it's the funniest thing in the world.

You’ll show her something really fucking funny at this rate—

Patience, you remind yourself. Breathe. In and out. This is unlike the qualities of a hero trying to save the city. Shooting an arrow at the woman would do nothing but cause panic. Why did you even want to get so violent in the first place? A little minor bump in the road shouldn't make you this angry, should it?

You seriously don't want to watch anymore—especially when he leans toward her to whisper something in her ear and she lets out that rage-inducing giggle again—so you down the rest of your alcohol and run a hand down your face.

You don't notice his eyes glancing at you every few moments, too busy calming your nerves.

A few minutes later, you hear the scrape of his chair pushing back and a rush of relief floods you when you see him stand, face content in a way that tells you the mission was successful. You thank the Gods above because any more of this and you certainly would've committed some sort of crime-

The woman takes his hand, shaking her head before giving him a sly smile. The breaths you took earlier seem to have no effect the second she motions towards the door, her fingers still wrapped around his hand like a death sentence.

You should trust him, you think.

He's had more experience in this than anyone else.

You can't see his expression, but the second you see hers drop, you're suddenly moving across the entire tavern. He whips around when he hears your steps and the relief on his face almost calms you. Almost.

“Hello, dear,” you accentuate. And though your eyes are trained on his, you're more focused on the woman from your side view. “Ready to leave? Sorry I had to catch up with a friend earlier.”

He raises a brow for a moment, and you suspect it’s because you were never supposed to even be in the plan. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze and look away, embarrassed to have let your emotions alter the mission so much—but he seems more than pleased. In fact, the bastard grins.

“Yes, my love,” he snickers, snatching his arm away from the woman and looping the other around the waist. “Let us hurry. I cannot stand another moment being unable to ravage you under such—prying eyes.”

Somehow, your face gets hotter.

Before the woman can respond (though you doubt she even wanted to), he's leading you out the tavern into the cold air of the streets for a much needed breather on your part. You're almost certain you won't be going to that tavern for a while.

“‘My dear’?” he mimics, his lips stretching wider. “I’d believed I was the one with pet names in our relationship. You'd seemed quite adamant on calling me by my given name after all. Had a change of heart?”

Your voice is a mumble as you retort. “Must be the alcohol.”

“Really? Because if I didn't know any better, and I do,” he stops the two of you around the corner of the building in an isolated spot, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’d think you were jealous back there, darling.”

“I was just worried about you,” you blurt in a hurry. “Otherwise I wouldn't have butt in and—”

“Oh, my sweet sweet love,” he laughs. “I could feel you glaring from across the building. And I'm sure I could've sworn to see you slam your goblet a few times. No need to be ashamed. Jealousy is quite normal, and I'm more than flattered.”

“I’m not—” you begin, but her face flashes in your mind again. The way she'd touched his arms, his chest, and you knew she'd never know him the way you do. But it didn't quell the annoyance flickering in your chest. He raises a brow expectantly for your answer, and you quietly lift your hand to his arm, dusting it off.

Dusting her off.

And finally, you accept it. “I’m going to burn those clothes.”

He snorts. “I’m sure there's more romantic ways of getting me naked, but this’ll have to do for now.”

“I will. Then I’ll bury the ashes somewhere.”

“Charming.”

You look at him, disappointed—not in him, but yourself. Before you can drown in your own thoughts, he lifts his fingers to caress your face, smiling. “There really was no need to be jealous, darling.”

“I know,” you mutter. “I just—seeing her practically begging for your attention pissed me off.”

“And there's the difference between you and her. If it's worth even comparing at all,” he says, planting a peck to your forehead. “She begs a hopeless cause while I beg for you.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You don't need to beg me for attention.”

“I’m aware. I know how much you're fond of me and my gorgeous eyelashes.” You sigh at this. “But I must admit that a selfish part of me is a bit pleased by your reaction to that vile woman.”

“Why? This feels horrible.”

“Well, now you get a taste of what I want to do when I see you with that damned cleric,” he groans at the thought. “Yes, I am aware you two are the giddiest of friends, but whenever she puts her hands all over you for the sake of healing—”

You burst into a fit of laughter. “How else is she supposed to help?”

“I’m sure she can heal you from a safe distance away. Preferably twelve feet. Maybe more.”

Wordlessly, you calm your smile and press your lips to his, your fingers running through white curls. He holds you like you’re made of glass, gently.

The kiss is soft, even as you finally pull away. “Stupid vampire.”

“Silly darling.”

You don't complain when he pulls you closer for one last kiss.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

💝 twst 2024 valentine gift message compilation 🎁

Yes, it’s that time of year again—

For preliminary information on what this is, please check out this post!

This year’s messages came printed on a coffin-shaped piece of paper. (The back of it is shown in the image above.)

The common theme underlying all of the messages is that the sender (you!) gifted the character a fragrance.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

Riddle

My dear friend—

Thank you for your gift.

I’m not an expert, but I once read

that this type of thing can help with

relaxation. I’ll certainly try it out

soon. I’ll make you herbal tea

sometime as a token of my

gratitude.

Trey

Hello, friend—

Thank you for the lovely gift. I’ve

been busy lately, so it’s nice to have

something to help me relax. You’re

always going the extra mile for

everyone around you. I’ll bring some

homemade sweets over soon to say

thanks, okay?

Cater

Eeey, friendo!

Thanks for the totes ‘Cammable

gift! It looks nice, AND it’s got a

fragrance that’s right up Cay-Cay’s

alley. I’m super excited for the

gift-back, and hope you are, too!

I’m gonna get you something you’ll

be amped to post about on

Magicam.

Ace

Heya, pal—

I never thought you’d get me

something so fancy! It’s got just the

kind of scent I like. You’ve got

perfect taste. I’m gonna use it

soon—thanks! As for what to give

you in return, well… Got any

requests? Just don’t go too

overboard.

Deuce

My good friend—

Thanks for the gift! I didn’t think

it’d be something so fancy. You’ve

got a good eye for this stuff, Prefect!

It’s nice having a fresh scent in my

room to help me focus when I’m

studying! Wait until you see what

grade I get on my next test.

Leona

Hey—

Allow me to thank you for your

generous gift. Heh. Can’t believe

you actually picked out a halfway

decent fragrance. I might actually

keep this. I thought about sending

you something in return if the mood

struck me, but this thank-you note

should do the job just fine, right?

Ruggie

Hey—

Thanks for the gift! I don’t buy

things that aren’t absolute

necessities, so it’s nice getting

something like this. Don’t get me

wrong, though. I’m REALLY not

picky when it comes to people

giving me presents, so feel free to

keep giving me whatever you like!

Jack

Hi.

Thanks for the gift.

This is the kind of subtle fragrance I

can see myself using. I don’t like

being indebted to others, so I’ll

think of something to send in return

so we’re even. Don’t expect too

much. Just sit tight.

Azul

My boon companion—

Thank you for your wonderful gift.

You have quite the eye for quality

and chose a fine fragrance. That

said, I prefer not to accept gifts

without providing anything in

return. Expect something from me

of equivalent value soon.

Jade

My dear friend—

Thank you for your lovely present.

Did you know that morays have

keen senses of smell? I’ll quite enjoy

this. I’d like to treat you to a drink

at the Mostro Lounge in return.

What do you say?

Floyd

Dear Little Shrimpy—

What a neat choice for a present.

Did you pick out this scent ‘cause it

reminded you of me? Kinds funny if

this is the vibe I give you. I guess I’ll

use it if I feel like it. No promises.

Kalim

To my dear friend—

Thanks for the gift. You picked this

fragrance out for me, right? I’m

flattered! Ooh, I know. Next time

you’re in a gift-giving mood, you

could take me shopping to help pick

it out! The more the merrier, right?

Then again, that might defeat the

purpose of the gift… But let’s not

sweat the details!

Jamil

Hello—

I was surprised enough just to

receive a gift from you, but a

fragrance? You never fail to surprise.

It couldn’t have been easy selecting

this. I’ll have to gift you something

appropriate in return.

Vil

Dearest friend—

Thank you for your gift. It was a

rather thoughtful choice; I can use

this when I’m doing stretches. What

would you like in return, I wonder?

You’re getting something

hand-picked by me, so I’ve no doubt

you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Rook

Bonjour—

And merci boucoup! Did you

choose this just for me? I’m

delighted. The design is so lovely

and elegant. I normally avoid using

fragrances unless it’s a special

occasion, in which case I shall

happily wear one—the one you gave

me, of course.

Epel

Dear classmate—

Thanks for the gift! I don’t know

much about fragrances, but this

one’s mighty fine! It makes my

dorm room feel a smidge more

fancy. I’d better get you something

nice in return. It’s kinds fun

thinking up ideas for that.

Idia

@YOU

uh, are u saying I stink? is this like

a passive-aggressive gesture or sth?

I have questions, but since u gave

it to me, I gratefully accept. I

don’t pay much attention to

fragrances, but this one smelled pretty.

dece when I gave it a whiff.

Ortho

Hello, Prefect—

Thank you for the gift! It’s a

fragrance, right? So this is how you

perceive me. That’s fascinating! I’m

about to do a thorough analysis of

its composition. Who knows? I

might discover something neat. Let

me know what fragrances you’re

into sometime!

Malleus

To my good friend—

Thank you for the gift. Hmm…

This fragrance is meant for pleasure

and relaxation? What a tasteful

choice. I rather like it; perhaps I

shall take more of an interest in

these things. You would be welcome

to pay me a visit, by the way, should

you feel so inclined. I would enjoy

sharing an old tale or two.

Lilia

Greetings!

Thank you for picking something

out for me. It’s a rather nice gift.

Immersing myself in an unusual

fragrance reminds me of my days

visiting other lands. I know! I

should cook for you some foreign

cuisine as a token of gratitude! I can

hardly wait.

Silver

Salutations—

Thank you for your gift. This smell

is so nice and relaxing, it makes me

want to nod off. I hope tjis

improves the quality of my sleep

and helps me want to wake up sooner

when my alarm clock goes off. I’ll let

you know how it goes. Hopefully

well.

Sebek

Human—

I’ve received your gift. Fragrances

are a part of one’s personal

grooming, and you had the nerve to

gift one to ME?! Challenge

accepted. I’ll come up with the

perfect thing to return the

sentiment. You’re going to get

what’s coming to you—mark my

words!

Crowley

Dear esteemed student—

I was quite taken aback when an

unexpected package arrived in the

headmage’s office! To think you

would send me something so

thoughtful… Hmm. This fragrance

suits my tastes nicely. Normally I

wouldn’t be able to accept personal

gifts, but I think I’ll make an

exception for this, seeing as I’m

kind.

Crewel

Dear pup—

What is this? Giving personal gifts

to teachers is hardly good pup

behavior. But the moment I opened

the wrapping, I could tell you

picked this out for me. The design is

suitable enough, as is the fragrance

itself. I suppose I must commend

your knack for gift-giving. Good

boy.

Trein

Dear juvenile—

I generally decline gifts from

students, but you clearly chose this

scent out of respect for me. I won’t

use it around Lucius, but it might

be nice to use in the staff room

every once in a while. I gratefully

accept.

Vargas

Dear student—

What is this? Did I give you

a homework assignment that involved

getting me a present? Kidding, of

course. This is the perfect scent for a

guy as cool as me! I’ll teach you how

to make my signature Vargas

protein drink in return!

Sam

Heya, my little imp!

What is up? Did you pick this out

just for me? It’s a fantastic scent,

thanks! If you’re interested in this

type of thing, I happen to have a

fine selection in stock, so swing by

whenever you want! I’m looking

forward to your next visit.

Grim

Dear minion—

Mrah?! I was expecting tuna, but

instead I get some weird thing

called a fragrance? What IS this

thing? I woulda taken tuna in a

heartbeat, but since my

hench-human picked this out for

me, I guess a proper boss would put

it to good use. Be grateful for my

kindness, partner!