#it makes you realize that maybe the hubris

[asideoftrashplease]

Detangling JC, his motivations, & his feelings on WWX (i)

JC and WWX have a very fraught history, and while WWX’s role as the narrator makes it very clear what his feelings towards JC are, JC’s feelings towards WWX and motivations seem a lot murkier. He goes from treating WWX as a brother, to mounting a siege in a concerted attempt to take his life. His actions and motivations in the aftermath of WWX’s resurrection are also subject to interpretation. This meta provides argument for my interpretation of his feelings and motivations throughout these events.

LOVE AND BROTHERHOOD

It is clear from the outset that JC cared deeply about WWX (I wish I did not have to make a case for this because it should be obvious, but there are some who believe that JC did not love WWX). Although he holds bitterness and resentment towards WWX due to his family situation and their rivalry, he cares about WWX and is protective of him. This shines through especially in times of mortal peril. 

When WWX was trapped in the Xuanwu cave, he travelled without stopping to find people to rescue WWX. The trip should have taken 10 days, but because he drove himself to exhaustion in his desperation to save WWX, he only took 7 days.

When WWX is in danger of being discovered by the Wens after the burning of Lotus Pier, he uses himself as bait to draw them away from WWX despite the risk to his own life, which eventually leads to his capture and the loss of his core.

SO WHERE DID THINGS GO WRONG

Things started to take a turn after the Sunshot Campaign. I believe a few key events caused resentment and confusion to build and grow in JC over time:

WWX’s refusal to carry his sword, which put political pressure on YMJ

His decision to break out the Wen Remnants, without consulting or informing JC, with put more pressure on YMJ

His decision to defect from YMJ, effectively (in JC’s mind) picking the Wens over YMJ and his brotherhood with JC

His actions at Qiongqi Path which killed JZX — while we know from WWX’s POV what happened, JC and JYL have no idea what went down except from the claims of the surviving Jin cultivators

His attack on the 4000 cultivators at the Nightless City, which ultimately cost JYL’s life

It’s evident that JC is increasingly bewildered, angered, and hurt by WWX’s actions. It’s clear that he’s confused, and just CAN’T UNDERSTAND WHY WWX IS ACTING THIS WAY. All the while, resentment is building in him that he has to clean up WWX’s messes, all while WWX’s actions undermine him as a leader and brings up childhood insecurities and jealousies. But his love for WWX drives him to continually stand by WWX and believe in him — even grudgingly, complainingly, and with growing resentment. Even up to the attack at the Nightless City, even after JZX’s death, he still seems to believe in WWX.

This last event, the attack at the Nightless City, seems to be the turning point where he stops believing in WWX, so I want to cover this particular event in more detail:

A “pledge conference” is being attended by QHN, GSL, LLJ, and YMJ. This conference is a ceremonial affair, centered around their pledge to eradicate WWX and the Wen remnants. It begins with them honoring the fallen with a toast, but while the other three sect leaders make the toasts, JC goes through the motions of the toast with visible unhappiness, and then conspicuously says nothing to honor the dead.

I feel this action needs to be understood in the context of the ceremony. They are standing in the Nightless City, where their comrades died in the final battle to take down QSW, a battle which WWX contributed to greatly. They are pouring the wine on the ground where the bodies lie to honor the fallen: “Here we honor our fallen. Rest in peace.” (Uncontroversial) “Now in the name of our fallen, we will eliminate the Wens who killed them — and the Yiling Patriarch!” (Controversial because WWX was brother in arms to these soldiers, and JGS is stirring shit because he wants the Yin Tiger Seal.)

JC knows the controversial bit is coming, so while the other sect leaders one by one say things like “rest in peace” and “may they live on” he dumps the wine on the ground and refuses to say anything. He is the only one, of the four with cups, who does not speak.

When WWX appears, the others all draw their weapons, but JC reaction is different: “JC’s pupils shrunk. Blue veins lined the back of his hand.” From this sentence alone, it may not seem clear what he’s feeling, but based on the rest of his actions in this scene, I would guess that he’s shocked and appalled that WWX would dare to appear before such a large and hostile mob, A MOB THAT IS CURRENTLY PLEDGING TO KILL HIM AND SCATTER HIS ASHES, thus recklessly and what seems like arrogantly endangering his own life.

After an increasingly hostile exchange between WWX and the mob, JGS calls for everyone to set up the battle arrays to seal WWX in, with the intention of killing him there. But when WWX calls up the corpses buried under them to defend himself, it’s stated that all the sects were in disarray, except for YMJ, which seems to indicate that WWX’s corpses were not attacking the YMJ delegation — and the YMJ cultivators were not fighting the corpses either.

This all seems to indicate that despite JZX’s death, despite the fact that JC has NO FUCKING CLUE what the hell happened at Qiongqi Path, despite the fact that he’s no doubt been fed lies and biased reports from the surviving Jin cultivators, and despite the fact that WWX is currently unleashing an undead army on all of them — he still believes that there’s another side of the story. He doesn’t even know WHAT that story is, but he believes in WWX— grudgingly, and with growing disbelief, confusion, and incredulity—  he still believes, BLINDLY, in WWX.

THE TURNING POINT

In the ensuing chaos, JYL is killed, and WWX finally snaps in his grief, unleashing a hellish and completely uncontrolled bloodbath upon the assembled cultivators. It is estimated that this killed three thousand people, severely decimating the cultivation world’s population.

The siege begins after this attack, and we know from the prologue that the siege was headed by JC, and that he was the one behind key tactical maneuvers (designed using his intimate knowledge of WWX’s weaknesses) that allowed them to eventually sack the Burial Mounds. In the aftermath, he was the main person credited by the cultivation world for the defeat of the Yiling Patriarch. When WWX meets JL at Dafan, he corroborates this by revealing, through the narration, that JGS was the second-biggest contributor to the siege — after JC, who was the biggest contributor.

I know that there are other popular interpretations of JC’s motivations here. I will name two:

He participated in the siege only due to political pressure — after what WWX did at the Nightless City, he couldn’t NOT condemn him or the cultivation world would have turned on YMJ too

He participated in the siege hoping to take WWX alive and bring him back home to discipline privately

But I don’t subscribe to either of these interpretations. I believe he FULLY intended to kill WWX. Firstly, if he was only participating in the siege due to political pressure, why contribute so vitally to the siege, why take a leading role and design tactical maneuvers to bring WWX down? He could have just done as he’d done previously, which was to participate perfunctorily in “opposition” against WWX, but contributing as little as possible, or nothing at all.

Secondly, some may argue that he was trying to capture WWX alive. But before this, he had always given the impression of being extremely cautious, to the point of inaction when maybe action would have been better. JC is VERY risk-averse. His characterization before the siege is that he’d rather do nothing than do something even potentially risky. The intention of everyone else was to kill WWX, NOT to capture him. As such, the risk that WWX would be killed in battle is extremely high. Even if by some miracle, he managed to capture WWX alive despite the best efforts of everyone else to murder him, it would be really difficult to stop the other sects from executing him, and getting permission to take him home and keep him under house arrest. It would be a safer bet to try to sabotage the siege from the inside, which is not what he did. In fact, he did the opposite. He was leading the siege viciously and with intent.

So I believe that he fully intended to kill WWX, which means the turning point was JYL’s death. Up to her death, JC still believed in WWX. After her death, however, the very last we see of him is him clutching JYL’s body, completely in shock, having not yet processed her death. I believe his last words to WWX should hint to us what caused the snap from blind faith to blind hatred. These words were: “Didn’t you say you could control it?! Didn’t you say it would be fine?!” To which WWX (who is having 99 fucking breakdowns all at once) finally admits that he was wrong, and that he can’t actually control it.

My belief is that this incident made JC realize that JYL’s death (and JZX’s as well) was largely caused by WWX’s loss of control over his demonic cultivation, and IMPORTANTLY, JC’s inaction re: WWX’s method of cultivation and his seeming descent into violent radicalism. Despite all the warning signs, the growing escalations, the increasingly violent confrontations with increasingly large death tolls— he continued to believe in WWX, even when he could no longer understand or predict WWX’s actions. Everyone told him “you need to reign him in” “he’s going off the rails” “he’s a danger to us all” and JC didn’t take them seriously because he BELIEVED IN and TRUSTED WWX.

And now his sister is dead, his month-old nephew is an orphan, and WWX has massacred three thousand people in a single night, likely including members of YMJ, in a total loss of control and conscience. I think that was the turning point, the crux of the betrayal.

I believed in you. I defended you. I stuck my neck out for you. But you scorned my help. You rejected and discarded me. You betrayed my trust.

You don’t give a shit about me.

You don’t give a shit about anyone else.

I BELIEVED in you, and YOU BETRAYED ME.

—

NOTE: Right now this meta is getting a little long, so I think this is a good place to maybe cut it in thirds? Part II should cover the siege, WWX’s death, and the 13 years in between, and Part III should cover JC’s actions and motivations after WWX’s resurrection. As the next parts have not been written, I can’t link it! But when Part II is done, I will edit the post to include a link below the cut:

[Part 2 is still in progress!]

[snekdood]

bitches prolly out here psychoanalyzing my old art on behalf of my abuser to cushion their belief that im a Horrible Person but then dont see the irony when I point out the shitty things my abuser has drawn and how I see it as clear evidence of their mindset and beliefs (of what's okay to do and how to treat people) descending and pairing that along with everything else they've done and it paints a clear picture of how this person got to the point of thinking it was okay to abuse me the way they did and then the people looking for reasons to hate me through my art will act like "they're just drawings !!!" about their art. which one is it. does someones art say something about them or not? or does it only say something about them if you hate them?

[jazzyoranges]

Saw you take requests!! Can you do a fluffy Wednesday x Shape shifter!Reader (no smut please) where it's Wednesday's writing time but she can't think of ideas so reader turns into a cat and curls up on Wednesday's lap? Basically helping Wednesday by making sure Wednesday can't get up until she writes a chapter. Thanks!

Orange kitty - drabble

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Words: 0.8k

A/n: i feel like we as a fandom haven’t been putting the orange cat x black cat trope in enough fics. this is me advocating for orange cat!r

“I feel your eyes on me, (Y/n).”

“I’m not allowed to look at my friend anymore?”

“It’s distracting. You’re inhibiting me from writing.” Wednesday isn’t fully lying. She just doesn’t add how you give her an odd feeling. An odd feeling she doesn’t like.

“Aww, do I make you nervous, Wens?” You laugh, deciding to ignore the glare she sends your way

“Keep talking and I’ll remove your voice box.”

“Please, I think you’d miss me too much” You roll your eyes, stretching on Wednesday’s bed

You turn into a cat as per Thing’s request, and you two start to play tag around Wednesday and Enid’s shared room. Thing happily bragged that you and him were better friends once. His hubris only resulted in Wednesday taking away his favorite lotions for an entire week.

The Addams girl huffs when she, yet again, makes a mistake on her typewriter. This was unlike her. The tiny trash can under her desk was nearing being full only after one or two hours of her failed attempts at writing. Wednesday put her hands in her lap after she realized her words only became futile

The abrupt stop of clacking keys makes you turn your head, giving Thing the perfect opportunity to tag you back on Enid’s bed. You quickly turn human again with almost a cartoon-ish pop, and ask Thing if Wednesday was allergic to cats

“She’s not, why do you ask?” He signs

“Do you think she’d kill me if I sat on her lap?” You sign back, not wanting Wednesday to hear

“As a human, most definitely. But if you were a cat maybe she’d tolerate you. No promises, though” Thing somehow shrugs using his thumb and pinkie finger as arms. God, you loved the weird appendage

“I can hear you two talking. I’d prefer if you’d leave me in silence.”

“Writers block?”

“No, I’m merely thinking of the correct words to use.”

“Maybe you should ask Enid for help. The woman can reach over the Twitter character limit in like… three seconds. Two if she’s really excited”

“Recommend such a horrid idea again and I’ll release you in my pen of hellhounds.”

“We both know I’d win” You cockily smirk, again ignoring what looks to be annoyance on Wednesday’s face. Then again, she always looked annoyed

“Your hubris is laughable. Let’s see how you suffice when your digestive system is ripped open.”

“Tempting, but I’d rather stay here with you”

You can only assume Thing listens with watchful… fingers? You execute your plan to him, and a quick pinkie-promise indicates he gets to bury you if Wednesday decides to kill you after the stunt you’re about to pull

“Hey, Wens?” The Addams doesn’t show any form of talking but you decide to keep going

“Did you know people say cats can lessen anxiety?”

The Addams hums in acknowledgement, so you continue

“Well, I don’t exactly believe it”

“And why is that.” Wednesday sighs. Sometimes she wonders why she indulges in you

“I dunno, just seems fake. I was wondering if you’d do an experiment with me?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Great! Thanks, Wens” You give Thing a quick wink after turning into a cat and hopping up onto her desk. Turning your head to the side as if you were asking a question, you looked at Wednesday for an answer

You were crazy, but not crazy enough to do something to make Wednesday hate you

For some reason, the Addams girl doesn’t even have a second chance to think before scooting back her chair. You’re about to jump into her lap with a paw over the edge of her desk, but you glance up to make sure Wednesday was sure. You receive a small nod

The action is enough to make you whisper a small “thank you” but it only comes out as a small meow

You circle around her lap for a good area to lay, and you quickly take your spot with a tiny smile that makes your eyes close. Wednesday scoots her chair back in, and she has absolutely no idea what to do.

Only when you start to purr a shiver goes up her spine. The vibrations are light, and something about you happily laying on her lap makes you chip away at Wednesday’s walls the tiniest bit. She contemplates where to put her hands before Thing scurries on top of you to scratch behind your ear. Wednesday shoots him a deathly glare in return, but your favorite Addams (don’t tell Wednesday) stays put

As if showing Wednesday how to pet a cat, Thing gets off of your back and points a finger in your direction. Hesitantly, the Addams girl copies the actions Thing showed her

And you? You were having an amazing time. Wednesday’s fingers were cold but every stroke of her hand was calculated. She took note of which spots you purred louder, and continued her movements

Fuck you and your ability to get what you want, Wednesday thinks. Of course your smug ass knew cats lessened anxiety. Of course.

But Wednesday can’t help being addicted to your tiny purrs and vibrations

With her left hand fondling your ear and her right on her typewriter, she decides maybe a cat could be arranged in her novel.

[missmugiwara]

That Was Nothing

Summary: gn!reader x Gojo // Satoru wants a kiss. Won't you give him one? Oh, pretty please? He's been soooo good.

Warning: 18+, suggestive, smutty, some dubious consent (in the form of kissing), flirting, sexual tension, friends to lovers, sweetheart as a pet name

Note: Once again, the love of my life is insufferable. AND I ONLY WANT HIM MORE.

✦ Word count is 2.5k ✦

"Come on. Just one."

It would be a lie.

A complete and utter lie to say you weren't dumbstruck.

Swiftly, you whipped your head around so fast to face Satoru Gojo it was almost dizzying. The perfect set of lips upon your face parted, breath hitched in your chest, and then you remembered - breathe. Remember to breathe. A heat erupted against your cheeks, and you could only stare with dilated eyes at the sorcerer before you.

Gojo tilted his head to the side innocently and let out a small snicker. He continued on.

"Just one kiss!"

The pleasant smile on Gojo's face was soooo adorable which only made this all the more embarrassing.

He just wanted a kiss.

His words replayed in your head so tantalizingly. Immediately, your eyes bolted to his own set of plump lips - immaculately pink and heaven-sent themselves. Somehow, those lips always seemed to be shining. And they always looked so soft.

So good.

So yummy.

It didn't ever matter what Gojo was doing. He literally looked perfect all the time without even trying. It always stunned you. But come on, you were much stronger than this - or at least you hoped, especially when realization hit that you had been staring for too long now. So in a fluster, your eyes darted from his plump lips to his blindfolded eyes.

"Satoru… come on! Really! You can't do this to me right now!"

If one thing was for certain, it was that Satoru Gojo loved to tease - and loved to tease you more than anyone. It went without saying the man was an expert at it. You were seated at your desk, scrawling away at some paperwork when Gojo nonchalantly waltzed right into the classroom. In a rather proud manner, he strode right over and took a seat on top of the desk. He flashed a cheeky smile (and perhaps a hungry gaze as well, but the blindfold made that difficult to determine). The way Gojo sat with such hubris, towering above you, was as if to make one thing apparent.

You were in for it.

And Gojo never let you go without a good fight. Plus, he was too clever and too fast. Always one step ahead.

For a moment, he stilled to study your frustrated state. He hummed in thought, tapping an index finger to his pink lips before a smirk upturned the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, I see!" he cooed, crossing one leg over the other, "You were looking right at my lips weren't you, sweetheart? I just meant a kiss on the cheek! You're so... bad."

Your cheeks went hot.

Why did Gojo have to talk like that? With the sexy lilt? The slight growl? His voice alone could make you a fumbling mess especially with the way he drawled out bad in such a tone. Gojo was practically the definition of alluring. He was that and so much more. He made flirting look way too effortless, and it amazed you how easily he could seduce you. Did Gojo know how easy it was? He surely must have. In this moment, you had never wanted to slink down your chair so badly in a fit of swooning (and maybe out of pure humiliation as well). How could you let Gojo catch you staring at those pretty lips of his?

It was no fair!

"I wonder," he tilted his head to the side, "how many times have you done that before?"

He was just so damn full of himself.

You gasped. Playfully, you slapped Gojo's arm with a wide smile etched across your face. So much for trying to look mad. Honestly, it was hard to. If you slipped up even for a second it would only fuel his ego further, but unfortunately that ship had already sailed long ago. It didn't help either when he snickered as soon as he registered your smile. He only grinned further, proudly sitting upright again.

"You are such a flirt, Satoru! Stop teasing me!"

"I can't! You're just too cute!" he purred before pausing in thought again, "Now - I found your car keys so don't I deserve a little reward?"

He revealed your car keys, proudly swirling the keyring around his index finger to tease you more.

"A reward? For stealing my keys?" You grinned haphazardly, stepping up from your seat.

In a futile attempt, you reached out to snatch them back. Quickly, Gojo enclosed his hand around the keys and uncrossed his legs to get the momentum he needed in order to lean back. In fact, it was so far back that you both misjudged the spacing between your bodies. Gojo chuckled when you whined at him to stop moving. You slapped your hand on the desk next to his thigh, sliding it past as you tried so desperately to gain balance. It was to no avail because you only leaned further when he pulled farther away.

You both froze.

A heat rose to your cheeks, and a dangerous smirk grew on Gojo's lips. You were perched right between his spread thighs, and he was nearly on his back if not for one hand holding him upright at an angle. If either of you had moved a tiny bit further, you most definitely would have slipped and landed headfirst onto him. The position was already suggestive enough, and the way your groins pressed together reminded you of the close proximity to this beauty of a man.

Gojo's voice was low and breathy, his smug tone so quiet in the air.

"Is this part of my reward?"

Smoothly, ever so smoothly, Gojo did the smallest roll of his hips against yours. Your breath caught in your chest at the heated pressure applied against your lower half. A fire spread throughout your body. His lips were so close you could almost taste his smirk. Immediately, when his hot breath fanned across your mouth again, you practically flung yourself against the nearest wall. Your heart was thundering in your chest, eyes bugged wide, and Gojo laughed wildly because your expression was beyond what he expected at this point.

"It's - it's not!"

Gojo then cackled, giving the keyring another taunting swirl around his finger as he sat up straight again.

How did this all happen?

Well, as usual you rushed into a staff meeting late and flung your belongings down without thought. So of course, for the umpteenth time, you threw a fit when you realized you could not find the damn car keys after the meeting ended. All because you weren't paying attention!

It never helped that Gojo was such an ass. Of course, he was always the one to find where they landed. And of course, he picked them up and clung to them like his life depended on it.

Usually.

Today he tried something a little different.

It was a whole ordeal. As soon as you walked into the room, Gojo flew up from his seat and glided over - exclaiming the meeting could not start until he got a hug from his most intelligent, wonderful, loving friend in the whole world. This overly affectionate display caught you and everyone by surprise. What an unneccessary interruption. A bit weird too, as quirky as he was. You carefully eyed Gojo because it all seemed a tad suspicious. More importantly, what did he want from you (because clearly there was some sort of ulterior motive from the compliments)? So based on everybody staring and you being blatantly late, you decided to just give him his hug and get the meeting on track. Just get it over with. No more embarrassment in front of colleagues, please. Without a care in the world, your arms wrapped around Gojo for his hug.

And then he snuck his hand right into your coat pocket to snatch your keys.

When he revealed them only a moment ago, that's when you knew this was another one of his little games. This time, the game being how to get a kiss from his most intelligent, wonderful, and loving friend in the whole world. God, he was lucky you were so… loving because loving people forgive their asshole friends, right?

"Then can I still get a kiss?"

Of course he said that next. In response to Gojo's question you pouted, giving a small grumble as the answer - no. But that wouldn't stop him from trying. It would never.

"Please? Just a little kiss. Riiiight here." he tapped his cheek, a smug smirk at his lips.

You irked an eyebrow at him.

"After that little stunt?"

"Oh, please, please!" he cried out so facetiously, dropping to his knees and hobbling over to you. Your eyes widened in shock, not expecting such dramatic behavior from the sorceror.

His hands grabbed your hips. He gave them a small shake whilst adorning an overly obvious smile. He could have nearly made you fall, but his playful gestures made you realize this was all just an over-the-top act. An attempt to butter you up by getting you to laugh. So you crossed your arms and boredly looked down at Gojo, fighting the urge to laugh. Gojo now had his arms flung around your waist, his chin pressed into your abdomen as he cutely gazed up at you in this hug.

A second more to think, and a teeny tiny smirk graced your features. Two could play at this game.

"Hm… the mighty Satoru Gojo on his knees?" you giggled, "Mmmm, I think I like that."

"Oh, you like it when I beg, huh?"

If only you had more time to think of a witty response. Shoot, he was damn good.

"…Maybe."

"Keep this up and that's not the only thing I can do that you'd like, sweetheart. Maybe later we'll switch places if you ask nicely."

Your jaw immediately dropped. As usual, Gojo got in the last word, and you had no idea how he kept winning.

"Satoru!"

"You know, I kind of like it when you're a brat."

"Oh, gah - please! At least you're having fun."

"You are too, sweetheart."

His smile never faltered, not even for a second, and his arms were still wrapped around your waist. An obvious pout was at your lips because he was right again. Gojo was flirty and fun, and you were enjoying this. A moment passed as you two just wordlessly stayed in place: a competition seeing who would break first.

Of course, you were the one to break first because you threw your head back and laughed. After all, Gojo was always pulling shit like this, and you always tried to pay him back in kind. He asked for kisses countless times. One thing you could not grasp was why did it catch you off guard every time? Why did it always feel like the first time he ever asked?

You also had to admit you loved indulging Gojo and giving in to his oddly charming ways. After all, he was an old friend. One of the closest friends you ever had especially when you both started off as sorcerers long ago. Oh, the stories you could tell about this man flirting with you. So what was a small kiss on the cheek between two old friends?

Unless.

You kept it up because you so badly desired to be more than friends. But what about him? And he kept asking for a kiss - so what did that mean from him? If only you could think straight. At least for the time being, you could indulge him and yourself. It was a harmless kiss on the cheek after all.

"Fine. But just this once!"

"That's what you said the last time, and the time before that, and the time before -"

"I could just leave! I'll walk home! Do you want it or not?"

"Ooooh yes, please! Very badly!"

"Then get your ass on my desk."

"Didn't know you were into that. Be gentle with me! Oh, should I bend over?"

"Just sit on it!"

As if your face couldn't burn any hotter than it already did. Gojo always made you break the record every time. It was surprising enough that you assumed it could never happen again.

He instantly jumped up (a bit too eagerly) and took a seat back on the desk. This was the easiest way because he was so damn tall. He hummed in response to your smirk, giving a cute little dance of his shoulders. Quite adorably, he leaned his cheek in for you to get a better reach - for him to finally claim his prize. A prize he won so many times. So you brushed your fingers very slowly and very sensuously along his jaw, gently cupping his face in your hand.

"Oh, you are making my heart race right now!"

Another gasp followed by a bashful grin, and you pulled away just as your lips were to touch his cheek.

"Stop it, you're embarrassing me!"

"Ugh, I love it when you whine! Does things to me!"

"Oh my god, Satoru! I am going home!" You released his face from your hands, about to storm off when the sorcerer grinned again.

Gojo firmly caught your wrist midwalk and effortlessly pulled you back toward him. You nearly tripped, forgetting how strong he was. When you were situated and facing him once again, you did a soft tug of your arm as a signal for the provocative man to let go. Gojo only pouted and pulled you again, but harder this time. And this time, you did end up tumbling into him as he caught you - staring at him angrily before you both broke out into laughter.

"Alright, alright! I'll be good!"

Gojo being good? Yeah, right. Could you really trust him to keep his word? You squinted your eyes at that, only to be met with Gojo beaming confidently which was your weakness.

So you let out a quick sigh before stroking the side of his face once more. You puckered your lips, slowly leaning in when -

Gojo turned his head quickly.

So so sooo very quickly.

In doing so, his lips touched yours in the most innocent of kisses. Just a small peck. It was gentle, it was sweet, it was so fast, and it stunned you nonetheless. A tiny smack noise from your lips meeting and parting echoed in your brain on replay. There was a delayed reaction on your part, save for your face heating up, because you stood there completely frozen as he adorned the biggest shit-eating grin.

All a part of Gojo's plan.

"Satoru!" you breathed, fighting an ever-so-obvious grin, "You… you naughty thing!"

Satoru Gojo was bold. It was always just a kiss on the cheek! He had never done that before. He cackled in response, twirling the keyring around his finger once more. Oh yes, and he still had not given those keys back.

"Naughty? That was nothing! Oh, we could get much naughtier next time. Prefer some tongue?"

Oh my god, was he serious?

The way you just stood in stupefied silence made him prattle on.

"No need to be shy now!"

Just when you thought he was done, he always went the extra mile. When he chuckled at your flustered expression and lack of response, he lowered his tone.

"Prefer something a little more than just kissing?"

[ddarker-dreams]

random yan chrollo blurb because i can't stop thinking about him even if i try . 🙏

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“… Are you still sure?”

“I’m still sure.”

“Swear to me.” 

“I swear.”

“That wasn’t sincere enough… swear… swear on the Troupe. In the name of their, uh, honor, or whatever.”

“Honor?” The word sounds humorous coming from Chrollo’s lips. “Very well. I swear on the honor of the Phantom Troupe that I won’t go back on my word.” 

You sit across from a formidable opponent. Fate has decreed this your lot, so you’ve taken what has been forcibly thrust upon you and sworn to crush it. However, at this stage, you’ve modified your parameters to be more realistic. The new, somewhat more obtainable goal is to leave a dent. Or a scratch, perhaps. 

For this dream to be realized, risks must be taken. The risk in this case is a willingness to interact with a man named Chrollo Lucilfer. His is a species defined by its tenacity. Through trial and error, you’ve concluded that typical avenues of escape aren’t in the cards. Nothing concerning the life you lead now is ordinary, so creativity and a solid vision are paramount. 

Your adversary sits leaning forward, his elbow on the table, forearm extending upward, and palm open. He observes you with the degree of amusement he always does, content in waiting for you to make the first move. 

You take a deep breath. Oxygen floods your being and blood circulates in full force. Every system in your body is primed and ready, there’ll be no better window, so you take it, springing into action. 

Contact is made with his outstretched palm. You steady your footwork for better balance, then pull, demanding everything your muscles can deliver and then some. This immense exertion of force is the culmination of your efforts. Hours of scheming by the window, exercising self-control not to pour salt on his strawberries so he’d be more affable to your requests, running mental calculations and simulations… 

… Alas, it’s not enough. 

You pitched a pseudo arm wrestling competition where you could use any means necessary to make him budge. You didn’t dare stipulate that you successfully pull his arm down, your hubris doesn’t extend that far; but the slightest movement on his part would spell your victory. A victory that’d have him fulfill any request your overactive imagination could conjure up. These terms and conditions were smoothed out in a verbal binding contract. 

His countenance is the same as it would be if he were flipping through a book or pulling his phone from his pocket — entirely casual. He isn’t even straining himself to maintain this stalemate. It’s possible that his physical strength is simply beyond your understanding, as is that parapsychological phenomena he refers to as Nen. 

“What,” you heave, disbelief coloring your tone, “Is your body made out of?” 

“Oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen—” 

“It was rhetorical, Mr. Alchemist,” you cut him off. 

He simply shrugs and smiles. Somehow, his arm still hasn’t moved an inch throughout that exchange. The thought of this metric gives you pause. An idea is sown and imbued with life in the span of a few seconds. 

“Ah, that’s the expression you get before you say something endearing,” he comments, almost dreamily. 

You ignore him and straighten up, ready to argue over technicalities like your life depends on it. Seeing that you’ve abandoned your previous scheme, he relaxes back into the chair. 

“I have a case. How do we know your arm didn’t move… an atom to the side?” 

Chrollo tilts his head. “An atom?” 

“Yes. If an inch is a unit of measurement, there has to be something smaller. So maybe your arm didn’t move an inch, but it moved the width of an atom. Are you following me?” 

“...” 

You barely comprehend it. 

One second, you’re standing, the next, you’re sitting, with arms and a familiar cologne engulfing you. You can feel the low rumbling of his chest. He chuckles into your ear and secures you tighter against him upon sensing your instinct to struggle. Scowling, you cross your arms while he regains his composure. 

“Don’t be cross with me, dear,” he smooths out your shirt, as if it’d exonerate him of his transgressions. “I’m not laughing at you. You’re just… everything. Everything I need. I’m sorry. Please finish your point.” 

“Court’s adjourned.” 

“That’s a shame. When might it reopen?”

“Never, you’re sentenced to death. No appeals.”  

“I thought you opposed capital punishment?” 

“Each second that has passed since this conversation began has regressed my views by a decade each.” 

"I'll just have to hold onto you for the time being then."

All you can muster the strength to do is sigh.

[physalian]

10 Plot Premises That Never Get Old

There’s a great many lists out there complaining about the worst and most overused tropes in fiction. I want to pass the mic to tropes that will never get old. The love-to-hate ones, the knife-twisting ones, the shipping fodder.

1. Killing the character who knew too much

Or, the “Maes Hughes” effect. Your story centers around a massive mystery or conspiracy and one lone character is unfortunately not genre-savvy enough to remember that the phrase “the early bird gets the worm” ends in “but the second mouse gets the cheese”.

This is the character who has unraveled the partial, if not entire truth, coming to a shocking realization moments before their untimely murder. Usually, they’re alone. Usually, this death rocks the remaining characters, sometimes for the entirety of the remaining plot (see FullMetal Alchemist). Usually, they become genre-savvy at exactly the moment they realize there’s no way out of this. Conveniently, they’re never on the phone with the right person, or there’s never any cell service. They didn’t write their findings down or didn’t hit record.

This whole entire tragedy is only a tragedy because this character made the wrong choice that is also the only choice this character would have made.

2. The enemy of my enemy

As OSP once said, anyone can be a minion, even the presumed Big Bad. Whether it’s a serialized cartoon with well established sides of good and bad or a single movie, having two entities that loathe each other reluctantly and bitterly join forces to deal with an even Bigger Bad… that’s the good stuff.

Either the villain has been minion-ed, or the good guys and the bad guys’ enduring battle of morals is interrupted by a wild card third party that insults them both or threatens the world both sides are trying to save in their own ways.

This is *not* a redemption arc. This is the temporary alliance that usually terminates once the threat is dealt with (see: Transformers Prime, or ‘Marabounta’ from Code Lyoko). Extra points if they’re age-old rivals who fight better together than the hero does with the rest of their team. Extra extra points if they both realize this and firmly deny that it happens (and even more if the villain tries to exploit the hero with this fact later on).

3. The redemption arc

***Emphasis on the word ‘arc’*** The ones that span 56 out of 61 episodes (see: you know the show). The ones that cost the redeemer their ideals, the friends they thought they had on the wrong side, maybe a limb or two. The ones that start with a villain so convinced they’re right, only to slowly question everything they’ve come to know and, without shedding their entire personality, do the right thing and still survive the process.

This is not redemption equals death. This is not a half-assed heel turn at the very last second—that’s a button mash impulsive act for shock value. This is taking a character almost all of the heroes have given up on trying to save, someone they themselves have nearly written off, and deciding to try anyway. This is a character deciding to do the right thing even if it doesn’t ever redeem them at all. This is a character whose whole life ahead of them is spent doing better than what was done before, and we love them for it.

4. The haunted ashes of a fallen empire

This one is a bit more tricky to define but think Prometheus of the Alien franchise, or Xerxes from FMAB. These are characters in the present exploring the ruins of a civilization that never should have fallen, but did due to the Big Bad they either created or tried to imprison. This is those characters looking around at what used to be, and making history repeat itself whether they’re genre-savvy or not.

These are the glaring red sign posts telling the heroes to turn around every step further in *or else* and they do it anyway. Or, these are the heroes who know exactly what happened and in their own hubris, are convinced it won’t happen this time to them.

5. The Most Dangerous Game

The originator: An island owned by a big game hunter who has evolved into hunting humans. The trope: Powerful and/or incredibly skilled character in any other situation is trapped in the confines of a dwindling clock matched up against the very antithesis of who they are and what they represent, but who is also just like them.

I just love seeing characters who are normally incredibly competent and rarely fazed, tripped up by the horror of being hunted by someone just like them who lost their humanity. So many juicy existential questions arise, so much angst. Double points if the character has a firm no-kill policy or extremely picky morals and has to wager tossing them aside to survive.

6. Stranger in a strange land

Whether it’s a character in a foreign country trying to learn and respect the ways of the people who saved them (see: Last Samurai, or Avatar '09), or an alien who crash-landed on Earth and struggles to assimilate and not get caught by the government (see any PG 13 alien adventure movie), a time traveler to the past or the future (Outlander, Back to the Future), either drama or hilarity ensues, often with a heaping helping of socio-political commentary.

It gets kind of troublesome when the writer is a white guy taking all the wrong messages from throwing his white guy protagonist into a land of the ‘savages’ (see uhhhh all variations of Pocahontas). But then you have strange lands like Wonderland, or Narnia.

7. Magical Otherworlds

Speaking of Narnia and Wonderland—magical hidden otherworlds. They can be incredibly blandly executed sometimes, but some of our most cherished stories come from living vicariously through Harry Potter or the Pevensie siblings. In this case I’m specifically talking about complete otherworlds, not hidden-in-plain-sight otherworlds (see: Percy Jackson) because of the complete freedom and creativity you have in geography, history, and world mechanics.

The possibilities are endless! Double points if the otherworld is a metaphor for childhood adventure and living without adult responsibilities (see: Peter Pan), a world in which we know, no matter how cool the world is, the protagonist was never meant to stay there. They must always inevitably, inexorably, return home and take what they’ve learned there to live a better and profound life.

8. “I know you’re in there somewhere”

Is it done to death? Yes. Is every situation different because it’s completely dependent on the relationship between the characters involved? Also yes. Tends to overlap with a redemption arc, but more often a hero-turned-temporary-villain. The drama! The angst! The shipping fodder! (see: many, many anime, too many to count)

This trope also has some uncertainty to it. You never know if the confrontation will be a success, if the character in question will commit some heinous act to wrack them with guilt later, if they even want to be saved, or if they really were saved and not just faking it. Either we get a POV of the stricken character’s battle in the mind or are left watching on the edge of our seat as unknowing as those trying to save them, and sometimes, rarely, they’re just not salvageable.

9. On the Run

The base has been discovered, the ship has been overrun, the house has burned down, the government is on the hunt. The hero team is forced apart with only the clothes on their back and what they can carry with only one or two others and loses all contact with most of their team, scattered to the wind. They leave a trail of sketchy motel rooms and diner take-away boxes, or they sleep in their car, or are forced to hide out in old bases that the villain definitely knows about but wouldn’t bother checking, built in a bygone era with a friend that’s no more.

Everything they ever knew has been called into question. The character they find themselves stuck with wasn’t their closest buddy on the hero team, but both forge a newfound respect for each other in this new unknown. Poignant conversations are had as one keeps watch in the dark so the other can sleep, and yet doesn’t, as they mourn the passing of the life both knew and vow to take it all back in their darkest hour.

10. The Thing

As in, a mysterious entity or illness has invaded the story and knowing which characters are infected and compromised is impossible. This entity either bodysnatches other characters and can be expunged, zombifies them, or kills and replicates them (see many zombie shows, iterations of The Thing, or “Croatoan” from Supernatural). This entity is a sickness slowly spreading throughout the town or the base or the ship and the heroes (or villains) realize far too late that something is very, very wrong.

This entity brings characters to their breaking point, paranoia making them do very bad things in the name of survival, killing off characters the audience knows is clean, but their murderer doesn’t, for extra knife-twisty fun. This entity brings a morally devout character near to ruin as they almost cross a line trying to do what’s right. This is an entity where, even when it’s defeated, is never really gone for certain… is it?

[rowanyx]

There is something so deep about Laerryn's choice in the finale, and Brennan's phrasing of the decision to be made.

To clarify, this scene (copied and pasted from the CR wiki transcripts):

BRENNAN: On a 16, you must make a tough decision. Do you want to further limit the release of energy and make the release of energy safer for the physical environs of Avalir and Cathmoíra, or do you want to ensure that Rau'shan and Ka'Mort will be permanently banished from Exandria?

TRAVIS: Impossible.

AABRIA: Laerryn's little joke to herself was always that the Heart of Avalir was the thing she inherited, but it was too small. She made it bigger, she improved it. She improved the Etheric Net and built this and that she was the Heart of Avalir, and she gave everything to this city. But I know what people are fighting to protect and I remember what Quay said about going down with the ship. So we will ensure it. This will work. Avalir be damned.

or this timestamp of the episode (in case the link doesn't work for the timestamp, the first comment's list has it labelled Laerryn's Tough Decision):

As we were first introduced to her, Laerryn Coramar-Seelie is the Architect Arcane. As Aabria herself even put, her whole life, all her work, is about taking the city and making it better. Building more. Expansion is the name of the game. So when Brennan specifies that the limiting of energy output will save the physical environs rather than the people, that holds weight.

Just, in a mechanics aspect, there is the fact she is an Abjurer. The whole point of her magic is exactly this choice. To stop things from being destroyed. Her wards that take the damage so that she or others will not. She is not built to bring destruction, leave the fight to others. She will be there to soften the blows that come her allies' ways. She is the one one deciding this, and it feels right, because she's spent her studies dedicated to figuring out how she will prevent the destruction that comes her way.

But that isn't all.

Because any other hero, any other party member, every other soul faced with this question could so easily think that it is a useless decision. A city can be rebuilt, but only if the Betrayer Gods are stopped before they kill all the people that can do so.

But Laerryn, who has dedicated her years to this, the position of Architect Arcane, knows this city and her structures far more intimately. She has been there, step by step, as she forged them. Designed them. Watched over their construction. It is by her hand it was built.

Asking her, specifically, is asking her to choose between everything she's done, or let it all burn. Asking her to make this decision is asking her to decide her legacy. Will she live on as the maker of the land that survived such devastation, but not the people, or will she go down as the one who helped stop the Calamity?

Her choice boiled down to this: Limiting the energy, their work, the libraries and churches, the colleges, grand towers and hallowed halls, stone and mortar, it all can go on unshattered. Or, stopping the Betrayers, the people may continue on.

Was her work more important than the lives she was surrounded by?

Aabria mentions Laerryn was given the Heart of Avalir, jokes how she improved it. But the Heart of Avalir, while magical, is only an engine. It was made, and can be again. So in this moment, I think Laerryn maybe realizes that the true heart of a city comes from the people. Always thinking, thoughts speed by her, whether or not she ever had time to really process the revelations before her demise.

Evandrin is already gone due her hubris. Who else would she lose? Would it have felt like home, without Loqautious there by her side? Would it truly feel like her city, without Patia keeping up with her? What would she cause, without Nydas to hold her back? What is Avalir, without her Brass Ring?

Her assistant, probably still waiting for her, in their offices, and the choice of which will see tomorrow?

How many will feel the heat of Rau'shan's flames as they die? How many will fall to Ka'Mort's earth?

None, she decides. Her friends and neighbors, the kinsmen of her home, will not feel these pains.

I think it is also a moment that beautifully showcases her accepting her death. She will not be here to heal her city. She's going down with the ship. Maybe her blueprints will be found and used, and Avalir will be as it once was. Maybe they won't, and they'll construct it all anew. But she won't see it, so it is their turn to take what was given and build on.

Of course, Rau'shan and Ka'Mort were not the only assets of the Calamity, and damage and destruction was still wrought across Exandria. But there are enough hands to clear the ruins and make their own stories. And that is because of the greatest Architect of them all.

She gave them a chance indeed.

[jamesdeniscouldnever]

Them pt. 2

Come children, Mama made you your favorite

Summary: it's been a bit over 2 weeks since Tav had saved Rolen from the shadow curse. They'd been gone when he'd woken the next morning, and he'd not questioned it if not been disappointed by it. Now, under the crush of a new form of pain and danger, where are they to save him again? Where is his hero?

Rolan clicked his tongue in distaste and irritation as he looked at the unmatching numbers on the sales records was filing. Either Tolna had fucked up her gold count or he head. Either way, he would pay for it.

When Rolan had the blissful ignorance of Lorroakin's true character, he'd been so excited to begin his apprenticeship, so excited to become something greater than himself, to make Lia and Cal proud!

He knew better now.

Lorroakin was a bastard and a half. A self-obssesed, hubris, horror of a man. It took Rolan only 3 days to know he'd made a mistake. It only took 4 to know it was one he couldn't fix. At first, he'd thought Lorroakin's strange nonsense questions had been a test of some sort, the corporal punishment he'd doled out afterward the same. But as the days dragged on and 3 days turned to a week and then a week turned into two, he had come to understand that this was his life now. It had to be. He couldn't leave, not after he'd bragged and lorded his position over the heads of his siblings. Not after he had come so far to be here. Not after they had all risked their lives - risked Tav's life - to make it.

No. He would put up with it and cultivate his magic as he planned. He would ignore the black eyes and throbbing ribs. Ignore Lia and Cal's questions. He'd been through worse than a few punches and kicks here and there, much worse. He would be just fine.

With that thought, he got back to work at the front desk of his master's shop. Perhaps he could make up for the small mistake by working harder. Or maybe he and Tolna could go over the discrepancy in the days earnings before Lorroakin saw. Or maybe his math had just been wrong and he-

"Rolan!"

The familiar voice brought him out of his own head and back to reality. Walking through the doors of Sorcerers Sundries came Tav, a big smile across their face and looking cleaner and healthier than he'd ever seen them. At least Baulder was treating one of them well. He can't stop the smile that lights his face and the excitement in his voice.

"It's you. What are you doing here?!"

Tav smiles for a moment, their eyes roaming his face before it slowly fades and their eyebrows knit together in concern. Rolan silently curses himself for not ducking behind the desk to hide as soon as they walked in. Tav would have questions, and when they had questions, they wanted answers. And they wouldn't react kindly to the answers this time.

"Rolan, what's happened to you? Your face looks like it's met the blunt end of a goblins club! Is that...?" They reach over the counter before be can argue and brush their hand quickly over his bottom lip. He's so taken aback that for a moment, he doesn't even realize why they've done it. Their eyes set on him, cold as stone, "blood."

Rolan forces a tight smile and shakes his head. "Its nothing! I promise." There's a catch in his throat that he tries to swallow. His shoulders set rigidly. Why does he have such a hard time lying to them anymore?

As if his own body is answering him, he feels a small burning spot upon his forehead. It's all in his mind. He knows that, and he's glad for it. He would truly die of embarrassment if Tav could see the very place they'd placed a kiss upon his head glowing with the memory of it.

Tav narrows their eyes, still unconvinced. They look as if they're about to argue, but instead, they just sigh and drop the topic. Instead, they lean forward, their elbows on the desktop and their face closer to his than he was used to. It wasn't their intention to flustered him, he was certain. But once more, he silently thanked the gods, and perhaps Asmodeus himself, for his red skin.

Now that they're closer, he can see dark circles under their eyes and a tired set to their shoulders. Their eyes flit in a way that suggests they have much going on in their head. Perhaps Baulder hadn't been as kind as he had thought. He gives a small nod to himself and takes this as further validation for why he shouldn't bother them with Lorroakin. They were busy, and he was strong. They ask him a few questions about the nightsong, lorroakin, and the tome-seller before, with another glance at his bruised face, they thank him and head up the stairs to see his master.

He let's out a breath and allows his shoulders to slump a bit as he hears the sound of them solving his master's portal puzzle. They would do as they needed and leave, continue being a hero elsewhere. If they come in from the shop from time to time, he could put on a brave face as he had just now. He could do this.

The sound of the portal being crossed through some length of time later alerts him to their departure. They stomped down the steps, seeming irritated, and made a swift turn for the door. They spare him a glance over their shoulder and give a small smile and wave before stalking out the door. He frowned. It would seem Master Lorroakin was good at making even the kindest souls angry.

Day bleeds into night, the shop closes, Rolan reluctantly reports for his nightly "lecture", if one could call it that, and his subsequent beating. It passes in a blur, the whole affair. Rolan spends the majority of it with his eyes closed and thinking of anything to keep his mind off of the blows. One of Cal's awful jokes. Lia's excited ramblings about her dreams and plans. Tav's smile. Tav.

He finds himself sinking into the feeling of safety they bring him even as he braces for the next slap. Even as he trudges home in darkened streets. Even as the occasional person spits the phrases "foulblood" and "hellspawn" at him as he passes. Even when he tiredly bypasses his siblings and their nightly worried questions about his appearance. All until he falls into a deep sleep, wrapped in the safety of his hero.

As the morning comes, the day begins, and Rolan gets back to work. He's looking at his feet when he hears an approach to his desk again. Without looking up he gives a hollow "How can I help you?"

"Rolan? I need to buy a few things." It them. He hadn't even realized until he heard their voice. Theyre surrounded by a few of their friends. He smiles, already happier for their presence.

"That, at least, I can help you with."

The exchange goes quickly, and Tav asks if he'll come up to Lorroakins office with him. Rolan winces at the thought, but he can not tell them no, not even if he wanted to. So, all of them ascend and step through the portal. When they step into Lorroakins office and are met with the sight of Lorroakin having a rather heated conversation with a large, armored woman, rolan looks to the others in shock. None of them seem very surprised, Tav stepping forward and joining the argument. As he listens he realizes with dawning horror that the nightsong is a person. She was a person the whole time and Lorroakin knew that. Lorroakin raises his hand to Rolan, commanding something of him, but Rolan doesn't listen. He gives a firm "no".

He's still terrified of Lorroakin, no doubt, but he can not stand by idly while his master threatens his friends, his hero. Not while he's attempting to keep an actual person as a slave to gain immortality. No, it's his time to he brave. To do what's right. Hopefully, he can repay Tav's kindness in the process.

Of course, he was expecting a fight, just perhaps not such a...destructive one. The room scorched and wet at the same time from the elementals, blood spatter everywhere, far too much of it his beloved Tav's for his liking.

His own thoughts freeze him. "Beloved" indeed. When had that happened? How had that happened? He shakes his head clear and ignores it for the moment. Tav has finished making the corpse of Lorroakin answer some questions and Rolan is set on repaying their kindness from the shadows.

He makes his way to them, placing a hand on their shoulder. They turn to him and smile, a trail of blood dripping from their nose. He gives a somewhat sad smile and reaches out to wipe it away. They keep each others gaze for a moment before an uncomfortable cough interrupts them both. They look away from one another.

The large armored woman breaks the silence. "My friends! Valiant as we have fought, easily shall so we rest! I must return to my darling's embrace at once, the same as our fearsome friend here longs to. Away! Leave the lovers be."

Rolan may have melted into the floor if it weren't for the amusment he found in how red Tav's face had become. He felt his own ears twitch a bit, hot and uncomfortable, but not as aflame as theirs. He noted that as he had not corrected the woman, neither had they.

The other companions all cough and chuckle, shuffling towards the door and hiding snickers. The pale, white haired on makes some comment about "enjoy your embrace," and Tav smacks him on the arm as he passes. Rolan gives a soft laugh.

"So...if it's agreeable to you, that is, I can bring you to my home? I'm sure Lia would be incredibly offended if I didn't let her know you were around. She adores you, you know. She and Cal both. Cal is a wonderful cook and, frankly, it's time I offered explanations to all of you for why I let this happen." Rolan speaks with more confidence than he's feeling, a soft smile gracing his lips.

"I think that sounds wonderful. I'd love to see them both again as well. This city can survive without me for an evening, I'm sure." They reply, a much brighter and more beautiful smile stretching across their face.

Rolan nods, and despite his shaking hands, offers them his arm. They smile and link their arm with his, and the two set off at a stroll through the portal, through the store, and out the front. If anyone inside knew of the violence that had taken place, they gave no indication.

It feels foreign to Rolan. Walking calming down a city street, knowing he's safe, and that someone beside his siblings is at his side. He finds himself laughing, truly laughing, as they go and chat about nothing. The sound of them joining him is the most beautiful thing he's ever heard, he decides.

The stroll goes quickly and they arrive at the small home of the 3 siblings. He's grateful for it. The only reason they weren't turned away at the gate, the same as so many others, was because of his connection to Lorroakin. They certainly couldn't punish him if it was found that his master had gone "missing" from his shop.

Rolan sighs and shakes his head, dispelling the thoughts. What comes next can wait for tomorrow.

They enter the house, still arm in arm, and the delighted squeal that emits from his firey little sister upon seeing Tav is enough to make him laugh again. She tackles the hero in a hug and Cal follows in due turn. They jabber questions until Rolan gently swats them away. Tav complies with their wishes and let's themselves be dragged to the table.

Lia props herself on the chair across from them, and Cal puts food on the stove. Rolan sits beside Tav and tries his luck, wrapping an arm around their shoulders. Tav relaxes back into it, and he feels a swell of pride. The evening is full of revelry, laughter, joy, and delicious food. Rolan ashamedly admits his complacency with Lorroakin and his injuries and despite Lia's enraged outcry no one fussed at Rolan too much for it. Gentle assurances and comforting hugs are passed around instead.

Sleepy goodnights are made by the younger two and Rolan guides Tav to his own room. The two simply sit on the bed for a moment, Tav taking both his hands in their own. They stroke his knuckles, roughened from his time in Avernus and on the run. He gazes at their conjoined hands for a moment before looking up and meeting their gaze.

He's not sure who initiates it. Kisses, some rough, some soft, some slow, some quick as pecks come one after the other. Tav hisses a bit as he accidently knicks their lip with his sharp teeth, he responds by kissing it again, carefully this time. Arms hold him close, his own running through their hair and over their let. He let's his tail curl up and around their waist. They break away for a moment for air and Tav speaks.

"Wait! Wait, just a moment." They gasp, hands moving to rest against his chest, not pushing him away but putting a bit of space between them. Rolan immediately recoils, pulling his tail away and stuttering apologies.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I-I got carried away I didn't think...I assumed...I shouldn't have..."

Tav smiles and holds his face in their hands. "No, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong! I just...what is this? To you, I mean? I just...I really like you."

The words send Rolan's heart hammering against his chest. He speaks too quickly, embarrassingly quickly.

"I love you! I," he takes a deep breath, "I just...I. gods dammit, it's the truth. I love you. I'm sorry if it's too soon, but I can't pretend otherwise. I didn't always, mind you. There was a time when I wished nothing but for you to fuck off and leave my family alone. But the way you've protected us, helped us... the way Lia and Cal look up to you. I'm the oldest, for the longest time I've guided those two as best I could... we aren't even actually related, you know? But we're still a family, and I've always been so focused on becoming something great, for them. To protect them. And I hated it when you succeeded where I couldn't. But now? I've gotten used to having someone to protect me. You're my hero, and as every damsel in distress must, I've fallen for you." The words fly from his mouth in a blur, no planning or reserved smarm. Just plain, raw truth. At first, his eyes flit away, nervous for rejection upon such a forceful confession. But a forehead pressing against his own brings his gaze back.

"Perfect. That's the most wonderful thing I've ever heard... I love you too, Rolan. Unlike you, I fell hard and fast. Maybe not quite the first day we met, but definitely by the time I rescued you near Last Light. I love your care for Lia and Cal, your desire to improve, that stupid little smirk you get. I love you."

A flurry of emotion, soft beds, and gasping breaths. Ridged skin and sharp teeth. Sighs and moans and breathless "I love you"s. Rolan isn't sure how long it lasts, only that it's not enough, and it will never be enough. But for now, resting against each other, relaxed and pleased in an indescribable way, he savors the peace. He chuckles as he places sleepy kisses against their neck and then lay back and pull his head to their chest. In this moment, Tav is not the savior, the hero. Not the goblin-slayer or the victorious against Markyul. Right now, falling asleep against him and breathing deeply, it's just Rolan and Tav. Just them.

@illidariiii @potato-dragons @tieflingteatime

[mantisgodsart]

@bug-oc... round ONE! Finally! Still counting this as "round one" of transmutations because of the blog round numbers despite the fact that we've already done a round of like two bugs! We... didn't realize how many of these characters were yellow until it was actually time to draw them. It's like we went in with a theme, and then stuck to it. Except for with Holly, who presumably lost the dress code along with their head. Please vote for our cool dune cricket in the handful of hours before this round ends, and thank you!

Individual characters and transmutation notes below cut.

[...though I briefly considered another form, limiting surface area relative to the size of the entity is crucial for stability in ectoplasmic entities, and I don't currently intend to attempt to form a "swarm", as similar entities often form in the wild - a more simple, and thus more stable, form is better. The energy pack in the subject's possession upon intake appears to be either nearly or fully impossible to reclaim, unfortunately - ghosts can be hard to separate from things with sentimental value, so it's likely a lost cause. I'll continue obsevation...]

Beera by @longeth-dayv. An actual design, this time, rather than our fucking-around-with-maybes! This one, we think, does a lot more for the actual character, though from our understanding of Luigi's Mansion the species choice might be slightly more "generic". We particularly enjoyed tinkering with the wire of the power pack - ghosts and transparent things are VERY fun to draw, and we liked working out where that wire would go in the areas normally hidden by the body. Long, winding lines are very fun to draw sometimes. Hopefully this one works better for you, too!

[...successful partial isolation of the fungal element proves both that it can be isolated and that transmutation of cordyceps symbiotes may be less of a barrier than previously thought. Results appear similar to "Moka" back in the first year of experiments, where the cordyceps remains untransmuted within the new body - is this a quirk unique to vertebrate physiology? The failed transmutation with Fulminis pulled from a largely bug pool, whilst both successful cordyceps transmutations have been with beasts.]

[The avian physiology doesn't seem to have produced much difference from reptilian, minus some differences in visible fungal growth, but the subjects started with varying quantities of visible fungal growth to begin with, and the magic present in both of the previous round's subjects presents an additional variable... at the very least, I know that the fungus on its own is either resistant or immune to conventional transmutation, considering Mop, though I still need to work out how the host-symbiote synthesis alters things...]

[I'll have to do further testing- I dearly wish that these subjects were easier to get my hands on, but I don't know where I would be able to source them in my own universe, much less if they even exist there, since I'm no longer certain if the time portal event through which I met Holly Holiyxeiul was from the past of my universe, the past of another universe, or the present of somewhere else. Omelette's successful transmutation proves that I can manufacture them, but I won't be certain as to the limits of this until I can collect samples...]

Butterscotch from @w-krajobrazie-zapomnienia. The wings on this took... FOREVER. Deciding to make Butterscotch a bird with individual "charring" on the feathers was an act of monumental hubris, and EASILY the most labor-intensive part of this page. Doing this in watercolor would have been easier, probably. Alas, if we want to be capable of using a marker, we must put effort into marker drawing. At the very least, we think the effect came out fairly well! We like the sort of "scorched" effect that Butterscotch's base design has, and though difficult to recreate in marker form, we think we pulled it off! Hope this works decently well for you.

[...expanding lizard experiments from the ones found in the former grounds of Five Pebbles to their closest resemblances in the fleshbeasts of our world, I found quite a few points of similarity. Though for obvious reasons, I haven't had the opportunity to observe any specimens of the original species, given that most vertebrate beasts have been extinct since before I was hatched, the underlying biology is similar enough that I could carry through a significant amount of understanding forward.]

[Though majority of traits seem typical for what I can observe from preserved specimens, I am noting some minor divergences - typical for the lizards of RW9089-1, but not, as far as I know, typical for the reptiles that once roamed the wastes. The subject has developed sensory whiskers, narrower than those observed on Black Lizards but seeming to serve a similar function of detecting scent and motion in the air.]

[Additionally, the subject has developed a short coat of setae across the back, with a similar texture to the subject's former ruff - some surface-level similarities have been found to the hair on the pelts of Northern Moths, particularly those found in areas where significant quantities of water make leviathans a dietary staple. Though fur "coats" can be found in RW-9089-1 specimens such as Strawberry Lizards, this trait is, as far as I can tell, unique to this specimen.]

[When following up, I'll want to examine the dorsal frills to be certain that former shape's traits are not overwriting the end shape's traits to too significant of a degree - this is not an unknown trait in salamanders, but I'll need to be certain the structure isn't too similar to insect wing structure, as this many traits carrying over may indicate mid-point speciesation, which will mean any parts harvested will have wholly different traits from the originally sourced...]

Lote from @fallenvoidhere! We went through a handful of design iterations on this, mostly trying to home in on making it clear that it's the character - we sort of underestimated how much blue we'd need to add, but when you're turning into a lizard several times your normal size, it's probably understandable to lose a lot of your accessories…? Since the black on the design, respectively, is mostly accessories, most of these markings are improvised - we based our placement at least partially off of an orca whale, after going through a lot of markings from IRL salamanders. Originally, we planned to make the wing further in to the body a bit more transparent, but… well, as it turns out, we're probably a bit too used to watercolors for our own good, and working with markers is a bit of a different beast. We still think it came out pretty decent!

[...previously noted properties of fireflies appear to ease the rougher edges of this, though it will still need some refining before it's ready to go to market. A working prototype is better than I've gotten with previous generations of this recipe. I'll have to spend some time going over the readings to work out how to route things on anything that isn't a firefly.]

[With the way that most of these particular transmutations have gone, forming a "chamber" for the light before the light-producing compound itself is produced appears to be key for the survivablity of the subject. I suspect that there's a reason that the gas compound found in the component-introduction artefact hasn't been found in natural beings; despite the multitude of uses it has in charmcraft, mercury tends to be quite toxic with continual exposure, and mercury vapor in particular can be deadly. Another reason to stick to proper PPE..]

Nox from @erijuice! This one's quite a dramatic modification to the body plan. We may have gotten a bit carried away with things here, but... okay listen we will be fully honest with you this is just an elaborate plan on "glow wyrm". We based this one heavily off of tatzulwurms and similar creatures, and from there mostly just went into "having fun with it". The wings might grow in more later, or they might not - this was one of our personal favorite designs to draw, and though we sort of wish we tinkered with the pose a bit more, it's a bit hard to do here without running into issues with... space. Such is the consequence of making a big page o' transmuted bugs.

[...more experimental brews have their pros and cons, and with this one, it's a bit hard to define which is more present. On the plus side, the resulting form seems stable; lack of mandibles aside, it's standing and walking, and seems in fine health from the readings that I can see. Subject is alert and appears to have either full or very close to full former cognitive capacity, as shown by the multiple attempts at escape via manipulating the lock. It's just that I don't have the slightest clue what it is, or how its biology... works.]

[I intend to collect samples once the transmutation settles enough for properties to solidify. From initial testing, I think that its digestive system may rely partially on the fur-like... appendages, on its ventral side, but it's presently somewhat unclear. Upon coming into contact with some spare biological waste (see: Vessel project, Voidless transmutation attempts), the material appeared to "tangle" in the ventral fur, and was gradually dissolved over the course of about eighteen hours. From what I can gather of the data, this appears to have given off similar readings to a more conventional being having eaten a large meal? Will test with other forms of biological material once I can gather enough material to recreate the end organism if existing subject is lost.]

Yasmine from @darth-moth - and this is one that was very fun to do! The lines in this were very, VERY fun to work with, and we had quite a lot of fun just banging this out! - the design here is, probably fairly obviously, based heavily on Rain World's Rain Deer, as well as the multitude of "creepy deer" type stories that are practically everywhere on the internet. We were tinkering, if vaguely, with the concept of something like a terrestrial filter feeder, or similar - did you know that some whales have begun hunting behavior of pretending to be shelter so that fish will hide in their mouths and, thus, be eaten?

We'd picture that this, whatever it is, wanders places and passively snags prey with the dangling "fur", avoiding any sort of need for energy-intensive chases while keeping itself fed on whatever it walks over. A passive scavenger, probably with not a lot in terms of personal self defense. The vents on the sides, though they might be slightly unclear as is, are just about the only active method of offense - releasing toxic gas or something similar in an attempt to choke out predators. Our greatest desire in life is to design enemies for a soulslike poison swamp and we think that Yasmine is an excellent poison swamp candidate. We hope that this is a normal and usual motivation and ambition to have, we had a lot of fun with it.

[...uncontrolled crystal growth took over before the transmutation had completed, at roughly 4 days, 8 hours after the initial administration of the formula. I was lucky to be awake at the time - the remote monitor that I imbedded appears to have been consumed by the same phenomenon shortly before my arrival. I can only assume that this is due to pre-existing contamination - if not accounted for, Crystals can react very unpredictably to transmutations, and I didn't account for contamination of this assumed level.]

[Though I've observed this sort of effect before, it's been years since I've experienced a bloom of nearly this extent. What really surprises me is that the subject appears to still be moving, despite the extensive damage to... everything. The head appeared to have been fully destroyed at the time of arrival, and the crystals sprouting from the back have to have gone right through the ganglia - the weave of the transmutation has been fully destroyed, so it can't be sustaining itself on the former body's imprint, so I can only assume that the crystals captured some of the host body's mind during the overgrowth event and are attempting to continue to run the same old patterns of behavior.]

[I am currently unclear on how much of the former bug remains. What scans that I've taken suggest that the new crystals may have linked up with their companion Warden, though to what degree is still unclear. If I want to properly analyze this, I'll need to take it back to the lab. From there... diagnosis work, and maybe trying to work out how poor Snakemouth Den's lab security is, really.]

Holly from @thetroupemaster! Our first transmutation failure of the tournament! Holly, unfortunately, fell victim to poor lab safety - a more open-ended formula intended to gather a form from environmental factors, combined with some unfortunate lab contamination. This actually links in to a few personal headcanons on how Crystals work, though we don't think we've posted them before.

A crystal is a colonial organism, much like coral, storing both data and magical energy. Generally gathering energy from the sun to power itself, it grows so slowly as to be unnoticeable to the bug eye, but it does grow, and when exposed to, say, a charm engineered to allow for rapid change of a physical form, it has the potential to rapidly grow and consume that energy, stopping its growth either when it grows out of magical energy or when the handful of elements present in the original weave to let it change and grow are consumed.

Some people in external kingdoms do this to avoid having to constantly ship in Crystals from Bugaria, but it's not particularly common, as this method of growing Crystals tends to consume things like your other projects, or the lab shielding you probably want to keep intact, or yourself if you have the poor foresight to not properly protect yourself against contamination. Under control conditions, the chances of this happening are nearly zero! Under these conditions... well.

Crystals are very, very good at preserving memories. The rest of Holly's body, on the other hand, might be a bit of a lost cause at this point. You can work in a lab without seeing things, right...?

...yeah, we aren't counting on it, either.

Bonus: for those who scrolled down this far, a quick compilation of labels. As well as, of course, a teaser for what's yet to come.

[...the most complimentary thing that I can say about Mal, I think, is that Hobbes would get along well with xir. Terrible lab safety protocols. AWFUL cross-contamination protocols. Just looking at this bug's methodology is giving me hives. Venus give me strength. I suspect that any brew that I attempt to use will suffer from enough unknown, uncontrollable outside variables that none of the data I get will be even remotely applicable to any other situation. "Edge case" is generous - I struggle to call this sort of tampering anything less than an utter abomination of science.]

[I will be using one of the more heavily conceptual brews for this. The REMW-19 formula is reasonably stable enough that the weave shouldn't just collapse in on itself, but it has been remarkably poor at producing organisms capable of surviving on their own once the transformation has set enough that they don't have enough former anatomy to "fall back" on - I suspect, currently, that the survival of targets afflicted with the effect I am attempting to recreate relies the support on some sort of internal magic system, and if so, the sheer amount of lingering cross-contamination likely seeped into every ounce of aer chitin might actually boost survivability. I have no positive expectations for this, however.]

In spending ingredients on this, I hope to assemble an encyclopedic list of all of the ways that a charm's effects can go stupidly, horribly wrong. Venus willing, it will not double as a list of ways that my lab can be destroyed, or a list of ways that tampering with Charmcraft can go wrong. I have had enough recent trouble with repairing the lab's seals after the Vessel experiments - I have no particular desire to replace anything else now.]

[echosbento]

Hbomb deleting James' career was great obviously, but I was generally unaware of who he was before hand (I almost exclusively watch stardew valley playthroughs because they make good crafting background noise) so it isn't really like, super impactful to my general thought process. I don't care as much that some guy I didn't know existed before hand got his career eaten for his crimes. But the stuff on Illuminaughtii? Oh my GODS is that vindicating. I've been against her for years, initially because her vibes just felt off, and later because I was suspicious something was up with her because her phrasing was inconsistent at best. And then I realized she wasn't even always being truthful, because she started lying about stuff I remembered, and then I tried checking her sources one time and almost deleted my youtube just out of sheer shame and horror. And I've been fairly open, when it comes up, about how much I do not like her one bit. But no one would believe me. And now the trustworthy youtuber is corroborating my claims and as much as I don't like saying I told you so because I know how hard it can be to separate your feelings about something from the evidence. I FEEL SO VALIDATED. Because I was honestly starting to wonder if maybe I was the weird one for not liking her, but my suspicions were correct! One of these days Hbomb has really gotta nuke someone I respect because I'm starting to wonder if my autism super power is being right about people. And that's a kind fo hubris I don't need.

[lemon-russ]

the girls are fightiinggg- oh shit wait no they really are--

sorry so late! I decided to socialize and leave the house and was swiftly punished for my hubris with feeling like garbage. I drank a ton of baja blast and I'm good now 👉😎👉

Part 13/ ???

< previous || next >

Cato Sicarius x F!Reader

CW: Mentions of sex, slight? sexism,violence / fighting

Summary: Cato and Titus need to put on their get along shirt

word count: 1,946

The wood of the desk splinters under Guilliman's grip, tossing off shards that make light tapping sounds as they fall to the marble floor of his dead quiet office.

He stood, chair screeching across the floor, and composed himself, taking a deep breath.

“So. The men say Cato has gone to the planet I sent the ambassador, alone, and has not returned a day.” He says with forced calm.

The serf nervously nods.

“And he did not tell anyone. And neither he, nor commander Titus, nor The Ambassador, have voxed an update.”

The serf nods again.

“Right.” He says, brushing wood splinters off himself. He frowned. He liked this desk.

“Prepare my ship.” He said, walking briskly to his chambers down the hall, making the serf have to jog to keep up.

“Sir-?”

“My ship, prepare it to head to a294-56. The planet my wayward sons have absconded with my diplomat to.”

The serf frowned and nodded. “Yes, sir.” They squeaked, skittering off.

_________________________________

Titus watches Cato try to keep up a dance with the Ambassador, fuming and huffing in a corner. Cato was stiff and concentrating but managing. Astartes were quick to learn and had excellent reaction speed, so though he assumed Cato could not waltz before this, he copied the movements of the others and followed the Ambassador's lead.

Titus grumbled under his breath. He'd be better at this. He'd learn faster and move smoother and not embarrass the ambassador with poor skills.

His gaze track her smooth movements. Not as coordinated as an astartes, her reaction speeds were slower, not quite on tempo. He realizes Cato is actually the only one on perfect tempo, and that's why he looks stilted.

Regardless, or maybe because of, her human imperfections are what is giving her movements their beauty. She smiles and twirls and waltzes in circles around the room with the crowd. Her dress follows her like water, sparkling ultramarine blue.

Titus smiles, ignoring Cato and letting himself take in her giggling smile, her just exposed shoulders, the way her dress hugged her curves-

He snaps his gaze away. No, he will not let himself look at her in such a way as Sicarius does. She is a mortal, baseline human. It is predatory to look at something so simple, so naive and think like that. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and glares at Cato.

He catches his eye, and Cato grins smugly at him, then defiantly lowers the hand he has on the ambassadors hip to just the top of her rear. She giggles, and Titus has to squeeze his fists.

You can't assault your captain, you can't assault your captain- He forces into his seething mind.

The song ends and the ambassador leads Cato back to where Titus stands, smiling innocent. Like she didn't feel his hand on her ass? She may be naive, but innocent, maybe not so much. He restrains a scowl. “My lady, you dance very gracefully.” He says instead.

She smiled sweetly, and he found it hard to stay annoyed, giving in to a smile in return.

_______________________________________

You feel a little awkward. You'd been desperately trying to enjoy time here with Cato even though Titus was insistent on keeping an eye on you at all times it seemed. But at least you got a dance in. Though Titus boring holes in your back didn't make it less awkward.

It feels like being on a date with a chaperon, like you're some chaste noble girl who's parents worry about appearances.

Come to think of it, most of what Titus does for you makes you feel like an incapable child. Cutting your food, telling you how to dress, keeping you away from a guy you like, it made you feel like a teenager with a strict parent.

You fan yourself with your hand, “Wow this planet is humid. I'm going to step out for a minute.” You say, and they both follow without hesitation.

“Enjoying your view again, Titus?” Cato snaps behind you.

“I'm not doing anything- and you were the one being careless with your hands back there, Sicarius.” Titus growls back.

You keep walking to the beautiful garden outside, sighing and taking in the cool night air as you try to ignore their bickering.

“My hands are allowed to be careless, your eyes do not have that privilege, commander.” Cato snarls at him.

You turn around, finding Cato and Titus scowling at each other, only feet apart.

“Can you stop fighting for like, ten minutes?” You sigh.

Neither break their stare. Titus huffs, “No, I can't stand by and watch this anymore- what's going on here is wrong.” He spits, turning to face you. “You are being taken advantage of and you can't even realize it.”

You frown at that. “What? I'm not being taken advantage of-”

“Of course you are!” Titus interrupts. “You can't have a consensual relationship with an astartes! You're a baseline woman, you don't have the capacity for it!” He says, tone a bit more like he's explaining something obvious to a child.

You blink a few times in shock, eyes wide. Cato raises his brow as well, looking caught off guard.

“Titus- what the hell do you mean I can't consent?” You ask, baffled. “I'm an adult, and a pretty high ranking diplomat mind you.” You say, furrowing your brow.

He sighs. “Of course, of course, and you're very intelligent for a baseline human, I didn't mean that, but it's different, Astartes are on a level you can't comprehend.” He says patiently, giving a sympathetic frown.

Cato shakes his head. “Holy shit, are you- are you saying you don't like us dating, because you think she's, what? Too stupid?” He asks confusedly.

Titus scowls at him. “Of course not, she's very smart, but her brain is just not formed in a way that she can conceptualize anything like you can. It's a matter of capability” he says, raising his voice.

You shake your head, “you- you think I'm too unevevolved!?” You say, starting to shout.

He looks back at you with a grimace, “I wouldn't call it unevevolved-” he says quickly before being interrupted again.

“No, I'd call it jealousy.” Cato growls, hands balling at his sides. “You just need some weak excuse because you don't want to say you want to fuck her and you're mad I am!” He shouts.

Your eyes go wide, and Titus looks shocked for a split moment.

Somewhere far behind you, you faintly register the sound of heavy footsteps. You turn to see who's there, afraid they'll overhear this insanity, but you're stopped by the sight of Titus’ fist flying forward.

_______________________________

Titus snaps.

You can't assault your captain, you can't-

Fuck it.

How dare he accuse him of perverting that poor innocent girl the way he is doing. How dare he imply he has anything but the Ambassador's best interest in mind. And how dare he talk like he didn't know what he was doing was tantamount to abuse of authority.

Titus sees Cato process what was happening as he starts reeling back his fist, twisting his torso to add to the power. Cato is fast to react, but he isn't expecting it, so by the time he actually sees the punch coming and is dodging, it is already too close. It doesn't hit exactly on the nose where Titus was aiming, but he did still get his jaw.

Bone collides with bone as he makes contact, and though Cato raises his hand to deflect Titus’ fist last second, he is still forced onto the back foot and reels back, hand flying to his jaw.

In a second he goes from shock, to anger, to rage.

“You- You bastard-!” He growls, “A sucker punch?! Are you a coward as well?!”

Titus sneers a bit. “What, aren't you supposed to be the best duelist?” He says mockingly, raising his fists again, this time in fighting position.

Cato snaps his teeth, and in a moment is lunging, knocking both him and Titus to the ground.

They grapple and hit each other, snarling angrily as they fight to get off the ground and land another hit.

“You self-righteous piece of shit-” Cato growls, ramming an elbow into Titus’ face.

Titus lets out an angry shout, tossing Cato off, still in his power armor and much stronger. “You manipulative, depraved prick!” He growls back.

Cato hits the ground hard, leaving a dent in the grass as he slides, but rolls to his feet.

“Seriously? Fight me fair, lose the armor!” He snaps as he stands.

“Fine. Not that you deserve a fair fight.” Titus spits, and he undoes his armor, stepping out in just his body glove.

They run at each other again and now Cato can get a hit in, and Titus tackles him. They roll and punch and knee each other, spitting insults and curses.

The Ambassador, who had been watching in shock until now, gasps and stammers, “M-my lord-!”

They freeze, Cato kneeling on Titus’ chest, arm reeled back for another punch. They both snap their heads up, faces bleeding and bruised and muddied, to the sound of heavy footsteps.

Guilliman stops next to the Ambassador, staring down at them with an icy glare of disappointment.

“So this is how I find two of my most well decorated Sons? Fist fighting like hive gangers in the mud, in public. Your charge forgotten and undefended.” He says in a chillingly low voice, putting a hand on the Ambassador's shoulder.

They both pale before untangling themselves and standing as properly as they can manage.

“Father-” they say in unison, then shoot glares at each other before trying to talk over themselves.

“He attacked me first-”

“He's been using the ambassador-”

Guilliman scowls, and both their words die in their throats.

“You two are a disgrace right now. Look at you. Cato, why are you even here? And Titus, taking off your armor to fight your battle brother? What the hell has been going on here?” He growls with such anger they both shivered.

“My Lord, please don't be angry-” the Ambassador starts before Guilliman turns his icy look on her. “And you, little one. You did not even attempt to inform me of this situation? You know better.” He says in a much softer tone. The softness only makes it more cutting though, as the weight of disappointing him was so heavily dripping from his words.

She cringes into herself a bit. “I- I'm sorry-” she squeaks out, tears forming in her eyes.

Cato takes a reflexive step toward her, hand raised to reach for her, before another cold look from his genefather stops him.

Titus just glares at the ground, fists trembling by his sides.

Guilliman scowls at them, then sighs. “Enough of this. Pull yourselves together before you bring more shame on our legion.” He says with quiet anger. “I already found the other brothers I sent with you, they are gathering the Ambassador's things now. We're going home.” He says, turning the ambassador with him, guiding hand on her back.

Titus and Cato start to follow, and Guilliman looks over his shoulder. “Oh, no. We're going home.” He says, gesturing between himself and the ambassador. “You two can get your own ride back. I can't look at you right now.” He says flatly.

“I've already ordered your crew back, Sicarius. Consider yourselves both on suspension.” Guilliman says before walking away, hand on the Ambassador's back to make her walk with him.

She looks over her shoulder at them with a nervous grimace before Guilliman gives her a look and makes her turn back.

[smoothriverrocksrock]

II episode 16 spoilers ! (Long Post, LOTTA thoughts)

So much… so much changes from this new revelation. So here’s my list of questions / thoughts:

-How does ghost Bow / Dough fall into this now? Clearly they’re actually dead, but it makes me wonder about the creation of and purpose of the Purgatory Mansion. Was it made by MePhone to hide his mistakes? Cobs, even? -Pushing that further, Dough might actually be one of the ONLY characters not made by MePhone. If I remember correctly, it was Toilet that brought him into the show. Dough might be our only connection to the actual, outside world of II.

-Going EVEN further, how does Toilet and Floor fit into this? Co-Hosts that don’t seem to be wanted by MePhone, which suggests they might not be his creations. I can imagine Toilet was made by cobs, but what about Floor? He has both a higher and less likely chance of being made by MePhone, because on one hand how tf does MePhone make that, but on the other hand, everything is kinda possible now until we get some elaboration

-Tiny thing here, but now MePhone getting sick by Tissues sneezing on him is perfect comeuppance. Damaged by his own creation / hubris. Also, WHAT THE FUCK. MePhone made a guy JUST so he could suffer constantly as a bit. -Do you think the characters implied to be in relationships were designed like that by MePhone, or was that just how things naturally progressed for their programming?

-Reallyyyyyy interesting that MePhone doesn’t seem to remember making his contestants. More abandoned memeories?

-MePhone went to court. He got tried and sentenced to jail. But what’s most interesting is that COBS treats it like an actual event, like he ACTUALLY went to jail. Which means that for a brief moment, the II characters were interacting with the outside world. Do you think that court judge tried to look more into hotel OJ, and realized that OJ just DOESNT exist outside the show? -MePhone definitely got lazy with box. Didn’t even try there

-Wtf is up with YinYang. Like it’s always been kinda odd that everyone is an object and now we have a religious symbol, but trying to imagine it in the lens of MePhone creating them creates questions. -MePhone does not know any other way to be funny, and that’s why Cheesy only specializes in puns. That is my interpretation.

Absolutely going to add more, but this is it for now.

EDIT: Things added after original posting:

-Interesting that so far it’s only season 1 characters getting X-ed. Maybe there’s hope for the others? -Cobs is so lucky his company is in the cloud (ha). Floor would’ve had him dead to rights otherwise.

-So… if MePhone made all the contestants… and he probably made Taco… wtf is the situation there? Is Taco’s original base coding her “act” in season 1, how she currently is, or did MePhone design her to be manipulative?

-WHERE TF DOES STARFRUIT FIT INTO THIS?? DOES HE KNOW???

[oceanicxeyes]

Closed starter for: @cxncordia Pairing: Walter && Amir It was dark once more. The sun had disappeared and in its place, the moon stood silent on the sky, accompanied only by a few stars. It appeared to the cloudy. Perhaps it would rain within the next day or so. Regardless of how volatile the weather presented itself to be, Walter sat on the sandy beach, his bare feet casually digging the sand as he kept his arms wrapped tightly over his legs, knees pressed against his chest as he contemplated how quickly things had change within mere weeks. If there were any deities in a different plane, any Gods – were they mocking him now? Did his own hubris proved to be his downfall? But was it really hubris to come to the sea every now and then, to be home once more? Those thoughts met no answer – divine or not. Only the casual sound of the waves caressing the sand bore witness to Walter’s internal turmoil as a chilly breeze brushed away his hair from his face. He had been amidst the land dwellers for a century. Ever since his own kind realized that they were on the path to extinction and decided to seek protection in the deepest corners of the sea. Walter never wanted that. To just… HIDE. It was the equivalent of admitting defeat. Was there really no hope to save his home? Back in the day, they didn’t have a word to what was happening. All they believed was that humans were the harbingers of their destruction. But with more and more incursions to land – watching humans build something that they called factories and make little care of the damage they caused to nature, it was clear that the paradigm was shifting. The seas were becoming hotter. The water level was slowly rising. Nowadays, people called that phenomena global warming. Humans in their pride and greed and need to evolve, had destroyed what had been there for longer than any of them dared to contemplate. And for a century, he had been careful. Walter had learned from humans how to behave and how to be one of them. The goal was easy – find some way – any way - to prevent the extinction of his kind. To save the oceans which were also the birth of life. And he had been so careful… for a century, he had successfully remained hidden and invisible to other beings of the night. Walter had heard about them: vampires and werewolves and witches and the likes. He wanted no part on their issues. He had his own mission and quite frankly – he was scared of all those other things concealed in the night. He was scared of humans too. What would they do if they found out what he really ways? Knowing how others viewed individuals with potential… he would either be locked in a lab and studied or turned into a weapon. Kept away from the sea – from his own true home.

It’s been weeks since his secret was exposed. Was it hubris? He had gone to the same beach he did for the past year – he had made sure that there was no one around. His human appearance turned into his real form: a tail, scales and gills. His skin became as bright as a pearl as his scales glistened under the pale moonlight. Then how did those… what was the word he used…? KINDRED? How they found him was not something Walter had planned. If not for someone else to guarantee his safety – to protect him… who knows where he would be now? And after a century, Walter found himself indebted to someone else. To a Kindred. A VAMPIRE. But this particular individual didn’t seem like the stories he read from books or the monsters he saw in the movies. He appeared… kind. Respectful. Walter even dared to conceive the concept of… safety. Maybe not all vampires were bad. Not all humans were monsters too.

“I will repay you for your kindness.” Blue eyes once fixated on the steady motion of the ocean glance over the siren’s shoulder to the man nearby. Amir was… unlike anything Walter had met before. He was a mystery wrapped in a enigma. Kindred or not – vicious or not – he had done nothing to make him fear him. He was still a predator but Walter believed – maybe because he was naïve when it came to other creatures – that this particular man truly wished him no harm. “I was so careful. I never used the same entry point twice.” It didn’t matter. He was spotted and almost captured if not for Amir. And that had been weeks ago. “I don’t understand what use I’d have to your people.” To vampires. Kindred. Not like he had told Amir about his ability to control and manipulate water or the eerie singing that became stuff of legends from days past. As far as the kindred was concerned – he was merely a siren. A man with the ability to transform into a fish hybrid and live underwater. What use would he be to those that could live forever? “But I am grateful to you. And no matter how long it takes – I plan to repay you for keeping me safe. It’s… the least I can do.”

[makeasplash15]

I want to talk about Eurylochus.

When the Thunder Saga came out the general reaction towards him was something along the lines of "Big talk from the guy who opened the bag" and I was on that train. I'm still on that train in a way. I don't think I will ever like Eurylochus. That doesn't mean I don't think Odysseus is at fault for anything. He shouldn't have given the cyclops his name and address and maybe he should have at least tried to give Poseidon a proper apology - not that I think it would have worked - but his flaws come from hubris. He's been Athena's special boy his whole life so it makes sense that he falls into the trap of thinking he can impress or trick the gods into tipping the scales in his favor and it takes him a while to realize that not all of them have a soft spot for him, but he's also brave, clever, and determined. These are all qualities I admire greatly.

Eurylochus isn't.

He voices his doubts for every decision Odysseus makes and never offers suggestions. He's the "voice of the crew" yet he tried to persuade Odysseus to abandon the men who were turned into pigs when it was Eurylochus who failed to stop them from entering Circe's palace. If he had misgivings, he should have ordered them not to enter. If he didn't, he should have been in there with them. Now, maybe the men were enchanted or maybe they ignored him because they were hungry, but that's not the impression I got from Puppeteer. He's cautious to the point of indecision, he prioritizes his personal survival over that of the crew, and he disobeyed a direct order when he opened the bag. These are qualities that I personally dislike. And, yes, you could say that he grows as a person off-screen because he confesses what he did to Odysseus and fights on the crew's behalf, except he was in just as much danger at the end and he knew it. Eurylochus knew that Odysseus was counting on Scylla killing him. Was his mutiny justified? Yes. There is a difference between losing men and sacrificing them and it was clear that Odysseus had given up on getting the entire crew home to Ithaca by that point. And to be honest, I didn't expect Eurylochus to bandage Odysseus' wounds. I fully expected the crew to toss him off the ship so points to Eurylochus for that. There's just something about how he desperately asks for forgiveness immediately after admitting he opened the bag - Did the crew know? Did they cover for him? - and his later "But we'll die" that makes me think that on top his other less savory qualities that I mentioned, he refuses to accept any kind of accountability for his actions. In fact, he fears it. Part of why he mutinied, I think, was because he realized that Odysseus was never going to forgive him.

Are they both flawed characters? Yes. Are they both at fault for the losses the crew suffered? Yes. Did Eurylochus have every example of what not to do and do it anyway? YES

[finisnihil]

Absolutely salivating over the Thunder Saga and Thunder Bringer. I feel like it's such an awesome depicton of Zeus.

Zeus often gets depicted in a very flat way, which I understand, but it's still always fun to see a piece of media show the Point of it all. The gods are personifications of concepts and reflections of the humans who worship them.

Zeus is the king of the gods, he is imposing and loud and intimidating. He is the one who punishes humans for flaws like hubris, he abuses his authority because that's what kings do. Pride and hubris are concepts he plays with and breaks like mortal women (and young boys, GET BEHIND ME GANYMEDES I'LL PROTECT YOU), he is the only one who can undress and relish in this without consequence because he is the lord of all. He is monsterous is the way humans and nature are.

He makes Odysseus choose between his men and Penelope because Odysseus didn't partake in the meat. A captain takes responsibility for his crew but Zeus knows he wasn't able to stop them because he lost that authority via the mutiny. Technically, he wasn't captain anymore, that wasn't his responsibility, he only regained that when the crew fucked up and needed him to. Zeus was cruel, will you take responsibility for your men at the expense of youself or will you let them bear the brunt of their sins themselves as you were spared that burden by their own intervention? It's like Eurylochus said: "If you want all the power you must carry all the blame".

Odysseus responds to Eurylochus saying they'll die if he does not take the blame with that he knows, he knows he doomed them, and maybe Odysseus would've considered it earlier in the story, but he's long since burned his humanity at the altar in sacrifice of Penelope and their child. His crew encouraged this, not realizing that a man-made monster denies mercy to anyone who gets in his way, not just their enemies.

Eurylochus never believed they would get home so Odysseus told him light the torches. Eurylochus would be another sacrifice at Odysseus's altar, one way or another. So would all his brothers. Odysseus became like Scylla and Circe and Polyphemus. He would be the helmet that scared Astyanax. He would look out for himself because it seems only monster and gods survive in this world, humanity is culled for the sake of protecting what you love. Your power, your life, your wife, your son.

The rain Zeus brought washed away the last of that humanity, the last remnants of Odysseus the man.

[mystique-6]

Kinktober Day 10: Butt Stuff?(I refuse to use the name of the actual prompt as the title)

Summary: Astarion asks to try something very specific in the bedroom. Ailis agrees even though it makes her nervous.

Hello! My hyperfixation on Astarion has got me in the writing mood so I will be participating in Kinktober using @flightlessangelwings Kinktober list. The pieces may be part of a bigger fic(s). I have started the fic. If you like these pieces in this series, please consider checking out my main fic, This is Me Trying. (Can you tell I like Taylor Swift?) Either way, I hope you enjoy. I do plan on completing the 31 prompts though it will take me past October. I also have the fic posted on AO3.

Warning: Anyone under 18 do not interact. Please pay attention to the tag warnings below.

Tags: Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Lube, Enemas, Light Dom/Sub, Kissing/Gentle Kissing, Feelings Realization

Additional Notes: This fic involves Spawn Astarion and we are back to the sweet and soft version.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from BG3.

            Ailis went to pick up the crate of washed dishes when she felt her ass be groped.  She whirled around to give the person a piece of her mind and found Astarion smiling at her.  He was clearly trying to stifle a laugh.

            “Hello, darling,” he said and then kissed her on the cheek.  She felt her aggravation slip away, but she didn’t want to completely let him off the hook.       

            “There are nicer ways to greet me, you know,” she said tersely.

            “I disagree,” he replied.  “Any chance to touch your perfect behind must be taken.”

            “I didn’t know it was you,” she huffed.

            “I don’t think Wyll or Gale would be brave enough to try it,” Astarion said with a smirk.  “Halsin might, but you most certainly would have heard him coming.”

            “Hmm,” she hummed and bent to pick up the crate again.  Astarion beat her to it.

            “I’ll get that for you,” he said and began to lead them back towards the center of camp.

            “You’re going to help with a chore?” she said.

            “Well, I am helpful like that,” he replied and she laughed out loud.

            “What do you want, Astarion?” she asked.

            “Darling, I’m hurt!” he exclaimed, though his broad smile suggested otherwise.  “Why would you assume I’d only offer help if I want something?”

            “Maybe because I have to badger you to complete camp chores when it’s your turn,” she said.  “If you’re offering me any kind of aid, then you want something.  Spit it out, Astarion.  What do you want?”  He set the crate don and pulled her by the waist into a kiss.  She smiled against his lips and snuggled in closer to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso.  When he broke off the kiss, he brushed a strand of her hair off her face and stared into her eyes tenderly.

            “I want to try something new with you tonight.  I’m not sure if it’s something you’ve done before,” he said.  The first time he’d said that to her, she’d scoffed and insisted there wasn’t much she hadn’t tried.  She’d been rather adventurous in her youth.  Her confidence had proven to be hubris.  She’d realized quickly that Astarion had much more sexual experience than her and there was quite a lot she hadn’t tried before.  He never once made her feel bad for not knowing something and he was always patient with her if she had concerns.  So, the prospect of trying something new with him now intrigued her.

            “What do you have in mind?” she asked, her heart fluttered with excitement and anticipation.  Astarion smiled as he noticed it and brushed his thumbs across her cheeks as he cradled her head in his hands and kissed her forehead.  She smiled.  He really wanted whatever was on his mind.

            “Have you ever tried anal sex?” he asked, doing his best to sound casual, but he was clearly anxious asking her.  Considering her racing heart nearly came to a dead stop at the question, she supposed she understood why he sounded a little hesitant.  She shouldn’t be shocked he was asking.  He’d never outright asked her before, or even said he wanted anal sex, but he’d hinted at it with words and touches.  She knew Astarion wanted in her ass.  She’d have thought, as a vampire spawn, he’d be more of a neck guy.  And right now, she really wished he was.  She wasn’t sure how she felt regarding anal sex.  She didn’t think it was wrong or anything, but the concept of it made her nervous.  That’s why she’d skirted around his hints before.  She couldn’t do that now that he’d outright asked her and was waiting on an answer.

            “No,” she said, drawing out the word.  “I haven’t.”  Astarion nodded, even though she knew he’d expected that answer.

            “Are you interested in trying it?” he asked.  He had his arms wrapped around her waist, but not so tightly she couldn’t break free of his hold.  He was giving her the choice to stay close to him or take space if she needed it.  For that reason alone, she didn’t pull away and reached up with one hand to gently tug at a white curl resting above his forehead.

            “I’m guessing you are?” she said, avoiding the question.  He smirked.  He knew what she was doing.

            “I’ve had anal sex before, Ailis.  Giving and receiving.  You know this,” he said.  She nodded.  She knew.  “I would like to try it with you, but I’m not sure how you feel about it, other than that it clearly makes you nervous.  Are you at all interested?”  She squirmed and tried to think of a way to divert the conversation, but her mind stayed blank.  She glanced at his expectant gaze and sighed.

            “I’ve never considered it before,” she said.  He didn’t look surprised.

            “Are you willing to consider it now?” he asked softly, running a hand gently up and down her back, trying to ease her tension.  She hesitated.

            “Won’t it be painful?” she asked, thinking about where his dick would breach.  The anus wasn’t the vagina.  It wasn’t designed to have anything go up it.

            “There may be some pain,” he admitted, “but with proper prep it shouldn’t be unbearable.”  She pursed her lips as she thought about it.  “Ailis.”  She glanced back at his face.  “Do you really think I’d suggest something that would cause you tremendous pain?”  That questioned settled it for her.

            “No,” she said.  “I don’t.  All right.  We can try it.”  He smiled widely at her and pulled her in closer for a kiss.

            “Meet me at our spot in fifteen minutes,” he told her and then hurried off.  She smiled fondly at his retreating figure until her eyes landed on the crate of clean plates. 

            “What an asshole,” she sighed, and grabbed the crate and headed back to camp.

            Fifteen minutes later, Ailis stepped into the abandoned building of the Last Light Inn that she and Astarion had essentially made their hook up spot.  He was already there, pulling a clean sheet over the mattress.  She saw he had supplies ready on the bedside table.  The bottle of oil didn’t surprise her, but she didn’t know what to think at the sight of the 2-liter bag attached to a tube and nozzle.

            “Hello, darling,” Astarion greeted her as he approached.  He pulled her into a kiss.  “Ready?”

            “I guess.  I’m nervous,” she admitted.  He gave her a soft smile and kissed her forehead.

            “That’s understandable, but you’re with a professional,” he said.  “I’ll make this a good experience for you.”  She smiled and leaned into his chest as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.  His own wrapped around her torso and he squeezed her tightly against him.  He kissed the crown of her head and they stayed that way for a moment, both enjoying the other’s presence.

            “Okay,” she said, pulling a way.  “Let’s get started.”  His lips quirked up in an amused smile.

            “All right,” he agreed and lifted the 2-liter bag of water up off the nightstand.  “Let’s get started on the prep work.  Do you know what this is?”  She was about to shake her head, but then paled as realization hit her. 

            “Is that an enema?” she asked appalled.  Astarion put down the enema bag on the bed.

            “It is,” he said evenly.  She could tell her was trying to keep her from freaking out, but also giving her space to have an honest reaction.  That was probably the only reason why she didn’t flee immediately.

            “Why do you have that?” she asked.

            “It’s part of the prep.  Anal sex can be messy.  Taking an enema first can fix that problem,” he explained.

            “So, you want me to…” She broke off.  She couldn’t finish that sentence.  “Is it really necessary?”

            “It is for me,” he said.  “I’ve had to deal with the mess before and it’s never been my choice.  I won’t do this without you taking the enema.”  His voice was firm, but he wasn’t arguing with her, or trying to be difficult.  He was just setting a boundary.  But his boundary was pushing at one of her own.

            “I…” She didn’t really know what to say.

            “Ailis, have you ever had an enema before?” he asked.  Her face turned tomato red.  Her instinct was to deny it, but instead she nodded, while at the same time, wrapping her arms tightly around herself in a self-soothing hug.  “I take it that it wasn’t a good experience.”  He said it softly.

            “It was not,” she said stiffly.  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “I’m not going to make you talk about it, but I would like to understand why you are so averse to it,” he replied.  “Did it cause you pain?  Were you…”

            “It was embarrassing, okay?” she snapped.  “I felt shamed over it for weeks!”  She found herself pulled into a tight hug.  She slowly felt her tension ease and she unwrapped her arms from her own torso to wind around his.

            “I’m sorry you were made to feel shame over it before,” he murmured softly in her ear.  “I don’t know who administered one to you before, an old lover or your mother, but you didn’t deserve to be made to feel bad over it.”  He tipped her chin up to make eye contact with her.  “I promise I won’t do that to you.  We’ll get it done and over with and move on to more enjoyable activities.  It won’t be brought up outside of here.”  She believed him, but she still hesitated.  He played with a loose strand of her hair.

            “We also don’ have to do this, Ailis,” he said.  “It’s okay if you change your mind.”

            “But you want this,” she said.

            “I do,” he said, “but not at your expense.  We can do something else that you’re more comfortable with.”  She buried her face in his chest and he ran his hands soothingly up and down her back and stamped an occasional kiss to the top of her head.  She sighed after a moment and pulled back.

            “How do you need me positioned to administer it?” she asked.

            “You’re certain, Ailis?” he asked and she nodded.  “All right, then.  Come to this side of the bed and lie on your side facing the door.  Remove your pants and undergarment first.”  She did as he directed.  He adjusted her to be centered a little closer to the middle of the bed, and then hooked the enema bag to the bedpost.  She started to roll over onto her stomach and raise her hips, but he stopped her.

            “You don’t need to get in that position, darling,” he told her softly.  He gently pushed her right leg up until her knee was parallel to her chest.  She saw him reach for the oil and knew he was putting some on the nozzle.  She jumped when he fingers spread some oil around her entrance, and then tensed when she felt the nozzle nudge at it.

            “I need you to relax,” Astarion said soothingly.  “Take a deep breath for me.”  She did as he said and felt some of her tension ease from her.  At the same moment, she felt the nozzle slide into her and she made a face.  It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable.  And if this was uncomfortable, she couldn’t imagine how his dick would feel.  Her thoughts broke off from that though, when she felt water begin to flow into her.  She flinched and Astarion immediately climbed into bed behind her and pulled her back to his chest while murmuring words of encouragement in her ear.  She tried to focus on the words he was saying, but it was hard to focus on anything other than the odd sensation of watering flowing into her.  Her stomach began to feel full and tight and suddenly a cramp ripped across her lower abdomen.  She whimpered, and the flow of water stopped.  

            “Cramp?” Astarion asked.  She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut as another rolled through her.  Astarion lowered a hand to her distended abdomen and massaged it, trying to ease the cramp.  She sucked in a few deep breaths and finally her muscles relaxed.  “That’s it.  You’re doing so well.  You only have half left.”

            “There’s still that much left?” she whined.  He kissed her cheek.

            “It’ll be over soon, Ailis,” he assured her.  She sighed, but nodded, and he unclamped the tube.  She grimaced as the water began to flow again.  She began to curl in on herself as another cramp tore at her abdomen.  She felt Astarion reach for the clamp again, but she stopped him.

            “Leave it.  I want this over with sooner rather than later,” she said through gritted teeth.

            “But you’re in pain,” he replied.

            “I’ve felt worse.  Just let it empty,” she growled.  He sighed, but left the clamp alone.  He moved his hand back to her abdomen and tried to tub out the cramp.  After another moment the water stopped.  “Is it done?”

            “Yes, but I want you to try and hold it for fifteen minutes,” he replied.

            “What?  Why?” she cried.

            “To ensure your entire system is cleared out,” he said and she groaned.

            “Fine,” she agreed sullenly.

            “Do you want me to remove the nozzle?” he asked.  “You might feel more secure with it in.”

            “No, I want it out,” she said insistently.

            “Of course, darling,” he replied and she felt him gently ease it out of her.  She immediately curled up into a ball.  He curled around her and stroked her hair.  She tried to breathe her way through cramps, but they kept increasing and it wasn’t long before she felt the urge to go.

            “How long has it been?” she asked.

            “Five minutes,” he answered.  She whined.

            “I have to go,” she complained.

            “Try to hold it a little longer, Ailis,” he told her.  “Ten minutes isn’t as long as it feels.”

            “Easy for you to say.  You’re not the one dealing with these cramps,” she grumbled.  He kissed the top of her head.

            “You’re almost done,” he assured her.  She muttered a few curses under her breath and he laughed.  She tried to focus on his hands gently stroking her wherever he touched rather than on the cramps, but she was fighting a losing battle.

            “I can’t!” she cried.  “I need to…I’m going to…”

            “All right.  It’s all right, darling.  Go,” he said and she shot off the bed and out the door.  She didn’t even take the time to slip on her pants.  She just hoped none of her companions were around to see her. 

            About twenty minutes later, she rejoined Astarion in the abandoned building.  She saw he’d cleaned up and put away the enema equipment and she felt immensely grateful to him.  He looked up at her cautiously from where he sat on the bed and held his arms out to her.  She rushed into them and he pulled her down on his lap for comfort.  She buried her face in his neck and he held her tightly as he began to rock her.  It wasn’t long before she felt her nerves were soothed and she remembered why she’d agreed to that particular prep work.  And although she still felt nervous over it, she decided to move the night forward.

            She stamped a kiss to his neck and then his jaw and then the corner of his mouth.  When he started to smile, she kissed him deeply, moving a hand up to frame his face while the other tangled in his hair at the base of his head.  He held her tighter in return.  When the kiss finally broke, she leaned back and removed her shirt and upper garment.  She reached for the base of his shirt, but he grabbed her hand and stopped her. 

            “Not yet, darling,” he said and pressed a kiss to her palm.  “There’s certain logistics that need to be discussed.”

            “Such as?” she asked nervously.

            “I know you typically like to be face to face during the act, but it might be physically easier on you if I enter from behind,” he said cautiously.  She hesitated.  Since they had found their spot at the Last Light Inn, they had been able to expand upon sexual positions they enjoyed as she was less likely to be triggered looking down on a mattress than dirt that reminded her of her trauma.  That being said, her nerves were on fire.  She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of not being easily able to see his face.

            “I’m not sure,” she replied.  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” 

            “Do you think you can manage it while I prep you?” he asked.  “I’m not trying to push your boundaries, Ailis.  I just want to make this as easy on you as possible.”

            “I think I can handle that,” she said hesitantly and he kissed her again.

            “Stand up for a minute for me, darling,” he ordered and she obeyed.  She watched as he removed his shirt and then adjusted the pills on the bed.  When he had them how he wanted them, he guided her down onto the bed.  He maneuvered her so her hips rested on a pillow, raising her ass in the air.  He’d also arranged a pillow for her to hold onto if she wanted.  She wasn’t normally inclined to grasp onto her hide moans in a pillow, but tonight she thought there was a chance she’d need to.  She squeezed the pillow and tensed when she saw him take the jar of oil from the nightstand.

            “I need you to relax for me, darling,” he said, running a soothing hand up and down her spine.  “Take a few deep breaths.”  She did as he said and slowly relaxed.  She heard him uncap the bottle and then he parted her cheeks so he could access her more easily.  She stiffened again when she felt a cool, wet finger press against her puckered hole.  He pressed a kiss to the bottom of her spine and she took another deep breath as he played around her entrance, applying pressure, but not yet breaching it.  As she got used to the sensation, she finally relaxed completely and that’s when he pushed in.  She squawked at the foreign sensation as he slowly pushed into her and tensed.  She felt every groove in his finger as she clenched around it.

            “Are you all right?  Does this hurt?” he checked in.

            “It doesn’t hurt,” she replied.  “But it…it feels weird.”

            “Good weird or bad weird?” Astarion asked and she looked over her shoulder to see him grinning in amusement.  She scowled.

            “Just weird,” she replied tersely.  His free hand soothingly massaged the back of one of her thighs.

            “You’ll get used to the feeling,” he promised.  “I know if can be shocking the first time.  Now try and relax again, darling.  I can’t move without hurting you while you’re this tensed against me.”  She listened and took a few deep breaths.  This time, she also fantasized over their post-coital cuddling and her muscles eased up faster. 

            “That’s good, darling,” he praised and began to move his finger inside her.  Her brows furrowed at the strange sensation, but after a while, she did grow accustomed to his exploratory thrusts.  And it wasn’t awful.  She could feel a spark of interest between her legs, but the interest died when she felt another finger at her entrance.  He began to slide a second finger in with the first, and this time, there was pain.  She tensed and the pain sharpened as she stretched around his fingers.  She let out a sputtering gasp, and he stopped.

            “You need to relax, darling.  You’ll only make this painful if you’re this tense,” Astarion said. 

            “I tensed because it hurts,” she panted between quick breaths. 

            “It can be a little painful at first.  It shouldn’t be unbearable though.  I’ll use more oil,” he told her and removed both fingers.  She took the moment to suck in a few deep breaths and almost managed to relax before both fingers were at her entrance again.  They slowly pushed in, but even with the extra oil, there was still a slight pain from the stretch.  She focused on her breathing and tried to set her mind on a fantasy of the them together, but she couldn’t fully ignore the odd feeling of his fingers dragging against her inner walls in a part of her body she was growing more and more sure of that he didn’t belong in.

            “Tell him to stop then,” a voice inside her head said.  She opened her mouth to do so, but stopped.  This was something Astarion really wanted.  He’d asked her for this, and despite always being the one in charge of their sexual escapades, he rarely asked for anything.  She had to at least give it a fair chance, and in her opinion, two fingers were not a fair chance.  Two fingers were barely a chance at all.  So, she continued to draw in shallow breaths until his fingers were pushed fully inside her.  He stopped moving and she tried to focus her mind on anything but the ache caused by his fingers inside her.

            Thankfully, he also wanted her mind on something else.  He leaned over her and kissed her cheek.  He trailed kissed up to her ear and sucked the lobe into his mouth.  She gasped and couldn’t help a slight thrust of her hips.  The movement caused him to move inside her, but he didn’t give her a second to think about the slight pain it caused.  He used his free hand to brush her hair off her neck and began to kiss and nibble his way down her neck.  He then moved to a shoulder blade and pressed a soft kiss to it before he bit down, though not hard enough to break skin.  This time when she thrust down, there was enough friction to tease her clit and a spike of pleasure went through her so strong that even his fingers inside her felt good and she moaned.

            She felt him smile against her shoulder, and he started to move his fingers inside her again.  There was a slight sting as he pumped and scissored her open, but she was beginning to enjoy the feeling.  She experimentally thrust her hips back towards him and groaned as his fingers sunk impossibly deeper insider her. 

            “Mmm.  Yes.  That’s it, darling,” he practically purred.

            “Harder,” she ordered and he laughed but obeyed.  He thrust harshly into her a few times and she chased after her please as she thrust into the pillow and then back on his fingers.  She let out a frustrated whine when he removed his fingers completely.  She opened her mouth to complain, but her jaw snapped shut when she felt three fingers prodding at her entrance.  She tried to remain relaxed and focus on the pleasure she’d been feeling, but she couldn’t even think to move her hips to get friction as the sharp, burning sting returned worse than ever as he stretched her wide.  She bit her lip as her eyes watered and tried to bear it, but the pain worsened the deeper he went and she whimpered, feeling a tear spill over and down her cheek.  He immediately removed his fingers. 

            “Okay, Ailis.  I’m stopping,” he said in a soothing tone.  He tried to help her roll over, but she resisted.

            “No.  I’m fine,” she said, quickly brushing the tear away.  “You can continue.”  She glanced over her shoulder and saw him frowning.

            “Ailis, you clearly don’t like this,” he said.

            “I was enjoying it a minute ago.  I just need to adjust.  Now, come on,” she urged, raising her hips up to put her ass on display, trying to tempt him back into sex.

            “Ailis, sit up,” he ordered and she sighed.  She shifted onto her side and rested her head on her hand so she could look up at him.  He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and gave her a soft look.  “Why are you trying to force yourself through this and why do you want me to let you?”

            “You asked to try this,” she said, frowning.

            “Yes.  And you agreed to it,” he said, “but you aren’t enjoying this.”

            “I was enjoying it a few minutes ago.  I just…”

            “You were enjoying humping against the pillow,” he said.  “You were tolerating me fingering your ass.”  She scowled.

            “I didn’t tell you to stop, so why are you?” she snapped.  “You have the go ahead.”

            “Why would I want to keep doing something you’re not enjoying?” he said.

            “You like anal sex,” she said.

            “Yes, but I like you more and you don’t,” he replied looking completely baffled by her obstinance.

            “You asked for this.  You almost never ask for anything when it comes to sex,” she cried.  “So, I need to give this a fair chance.”  He stared at her with wide eyes and tugged his hair with his hands before taking a deep and unneeded breath.

            “I think you’ve given it a fair chance, Ailis,” he said gently.

            “A few fingers aren’t a fair chance,” she argued.

            “I think it is,” he said.  Angry tears filled her eyes.

            “Well, I don’t,” she replied.  “It’s not a fair chance until you get your dick in me and actually fuck me.”  The tears spilled over.  He brushed them away before she could.

            “I think we should stop, Ailis,” he said softly.

            “No,” she refused.  He sighed, but nodded.

            “I’m only going to agree to continue if you accept my bargain, all right?” he said.

            “What bargain?” she asked.

            “If you aren’t enjoying it after I’m inside you after three thrusts, we’re putting an end to this,” he stated firmly.  “I think we should put an end to this now, but I will continue against my better judgement if you agree to this bargain.”

            “Ten thrusts,” she bargained.

            “Five,” he returned with a sigh.

            “Eight.”

            “Five, Ailis,” he said.  “No more.”

            “Fine,” she snapped.  “Five.”  She flopped back over on her stomach.  He snorted.  She waited for him to resume prepping her, but he draped himself over her back and grabbed her arm and then brought I down underneath her and settled her fingers over her core. 

            “Touch yourself,” he ordered.

            “W…what?” she said.  He pressed their entwined hands down so her fingers put pressure on her clit.  She gasped.

            “Touch yourself,” he repeated, practically growling in her ear.  She mewled and began rubbing circles over her clit.  He removed his hand as she began to work herself over.  His fingers returned to her entrance.  She hesitated for a second.  “Don’t stop, Ailis.”  She continued and he sunk one, then two fingers back inside her.  She groaned, but any discomfort she felt was outweighed by the pleasure from the attention she was giving to her clit.  He thrust his fingers in her once, then twice, and on the third thrust, she pushed her hips back to meet him.

            The next time she felt him at her entrance, three fingers breached her.  The burn returned, but she continued to play with herself and after a moment, the burn eased and she fucked herself back on his fingers as he pushed into her and scissored her open.  Suddenly, he removed all fingers and she whined in complaint.

            “Sorry, darling, but I believe you wanted a change of position,” Astarion teased, rolling her over onto her back.  She reached up for him to pull him into a kiss and he humored her.  When he pulled away, he reached for the pillow under her and tugged it until she was positioned how he wanted her, with her hips lifted up off the mattress.  He removed his pants and undergarment and she saw his thick and turgid cock and felt a spark of anxiety.  It was far larger than three fingers.

            “You’re not going to fit,” she said.  He smirked, and she could tell he was stifling a laugh.

            “I’ll fit,” he assured her.  “Are you ready?”  She wasn’t sure, but she nodded.  His cocked lined up to her entrance and began to push in.  The burn was worse than each time before.  She bit her lip to keep from whimpering, but she couldn’t help a tear from escaping.  “I can stop, Ailis.”

            “We agreed on five thrusts,” she ground out through gritted teeth.

            “But if this is unbearable for you…”

            “It’s not.  Continue,” she ordered.  He sighed.

            “Try to relax.  And keep touching yourself, Ailis.  I didn’t tell you that you could stop,” he said.  She groaned and did as he ordered, increasing pressure on her clit to combat the burn as he pushed into her until finally, he bottomed out.  She panted as she tried to adjust to him.  Astarion was large.  Even vaginally, he was a lot to take, but she didn’t think she ever felt so full as she did right now.  She used the arm she wasn’t using to pleasure herself to wrap around his waist to keep him close.  He kissed her damp cheek and then slowly began to slide out.  He pulled back only about halfway, before slowly thrusting back in.  She took a deep breath and bore another two thrusts.  On the fourth her drew back farther, and she wrapped a leg around him and pushed at him when he thrust in, forcing him somehow even deeper inside her.

            They both groaned, and Astarion stopped holding back.  He pulled all the way out, and then shoved back in.  She felt the burn of it, but the sensation was almost pleasurable now.  The next time he thrust in she pushed forward to meet him.  One of his hands found hers and forced it to the mattress by her head, and held it there gently with his own.  They kissed sloppily, though passionately as they moved together, panting into each other’s open mouths as they joined together.  Ailis felt his rhythm start to falter and knew he was about to cum.  She was nearly there herself.  Tension was building in her core.  Sparks of pleasure shooting off like electricity as she played over her clit.  Muscles in her thighs and core were twitching and she felt her cunt start to clench.  She increased the pressure on her clit and her body jerked as she went over the edge.  All thought seeped from her mind as the world around her faded. 

            When she came back to herself, she noticed Astarion had stopped moving.  He laid across her torso, and was pressing gentle kisses to her neck.  She could feel him still inside her, though he was soft now.  He’d also found release.  She lifted a hand and carded it through his now messy, white curls.  He smiled against her jugular and then pushed himself up so he could look at her face.

            “How are you feeling, darling,” he asked.  His smile was fond and relaxed, but she saw caution and worry in his eyes.  She cupped his face in her hands and gently pulled him down to her for a deep and languorous kiss.

            “Never been better,” she replied when the kiss ended.  He smiled and stroked her cheek.

            “Did you like it though?” he asked.  “And don’t lie to me.  Please.”  She hesitated, and thought over her response.  She didn’t hate it, but…

            “Maybe we can relegate it to special occasions,” she said.  “When is your birthday?”  He laughed and kissed her again.  When he pulled back this time, he also pulled out of her and she winced.  He immediately moved down her body to inspect her entrance.  She grimaced as he probed a her gently for a moment.

            “No tears,” he told her.

            “I didn’t think there would be,” she said.  “You said you’d make this a good experience for me.”  He smiled and they kissed again before he rolled off of her and then pulled her back against his chest.  His arms wrapped snuggly around her.

            “Thank you for this,” he murmured in her ear.  She smiled, and snuggled back against him, trying to eliminate any space between their skin.  She started to drift off to sleep when suddenly her eyes shot open wide ad her heart began to pound against her ribcage.  The cold, icy grip of fear latched onto her as she realized what she’d been trying to suppress for weeks now.  What she felt was the absolute truth.  This was no longer a fling to her.  She loved him…and that terrified her.