#oh no I'm craving for the ghoul

[rick-rayson]

LUCY MACLEAN┊ DATING HCS

A/N: I'm back to feed my own obsessions hi hello beenaminit

NOTES: POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR THE FALLOUT SHOW!! Though I tried to keep it very ambiguous

┊BEFORE DATING:

Let's be honest Lucy probably fell first, whether you're a Vault Dweller or Wastelander it doesn't matter. Despite the privileges of the vaults, Vault 33 has hardwired Lucy's brain to freely feel and act on emotions with vigor.

Having been raised in a meritocracy, Lucy believes the best way to win your affections is through active illustrations of her skills, knowledge, and attentiveness. Very much an acts of service person.

And very, very bad flirting.

"You're really well learned in enacting violence!"

"You're so good at- um- shooting. People."

"How's it going?" She asks as she leans on a rusted mailbox.

It breaks and she falls over.

Just. Really bad.

You're likely aware that she fancies you before she even realizes. She's not good at hiding her expressions at all.

Not so subtly checking you out or admiring you whenever you just, exist, tbh

Despite it all, she won't make the first move to save her life. Tiptoeing on the line of what ifs and what isn't. You're going to have to take one for the team.

┊DATING:

She's actually a huge loser

Absolute girl failure

She's trying so hard though

Proximity is a must. If you're dating Lucy, you quickly become fundamental to her sense of peace.

At first it's a bit much, being in the wasteland kind of messes up her sense of boundaries a bit in a desperation to have you as much as possible.

You have to remind her flat out that it is not, in fact, the norm to follow your partner as they try to find a private place to pee.

She's a bit of a freak honestly.

SOMETHING is up with her but she's so much nicer and kinder than anyone on the surface that you don't mind much.

Uses terms of endearment but sparingly, mostly in private.

You could wake up and look like a feral ghoul and she'd still look at you with a big smile like, "Hey Doll/Hun. Sleep well?"

Craves softness and physical affection but feels as though she cannot have it. Everyone is quick to tell her what kind of person she needs to be on the surface so she's hesitant to express her affections sometimes.

But the more you show her that your touch is not meant to harm, but to love, she'll reciprocate.

Pretty touchy, subtle mostly, a hand on your back, a hand rubbing your arm, tracing your palm with her thumb.

When you two first started dating she very shyly asked if she could place her sleeping bag near yours, you could only laugh.

Whenever she scavenges food (or anything even slightly digestible) she's always offering it to you first.

Sometimes she just craves a really good make-out. She's good at repressing whatever bullshit the wasteland throws at her but she's not about to say no to a make-out session.

Whenever she finds cool knick-knacks she gifts them to you. Pins, random comic books

"I found another Grognak book-! Oh, oh wait, no, no we've already read this one :/"

hats. Lots of hats. Neat hats.

"Well don't you look dapper?" She grins as she places a sun hat on your head.

Honestly depends on you a bit. Though she's aware of the fact the surface is dangerous, it's a different thing to have to experience it.

Tells you all about Vault 33 and what her childhood was like over campfire. You learn very quickly why she is the way she is.

She can be an easy person to sway so she honestly needs you as her rock, her bad cop if you will.

Most nights she'll only sleep if you sleep first, watching over you for a bit before indulging in rest.

Kinda just stares at you a whole lot, but she means well.

Will always be the first to elect to take care of you, and gets a bit possessive in that respect.

Almost completely tackled Maximus to the floor when you got hurt and raced to use whatever she had on hand. She does not care if it's the last Stimpak they have, she WILL do anything to make sure you're okay.

She cares for you so deeply, as you're likely her first ever love.

She falls first, and she falls hard.

Always fixes up your clothes before heading out or patting down your garments, It's a post-apocalyptic wasteland, no one cares about appearances, but you know that Lucy does it to retain a sense of normalcy for herself.

A little thing that she's good at is being persuasive, it's a subtle thing, but Lucy is acutely aware that sometimes batting her eyelashes or giving a pretty please can get her to where she needs or what she wants.

She most definitely uses it on you.

And uh.. NSFW headcanons?

SHE'S A FREAK!

AN ABSOLUTE FREAKZOID!!

That is all. c:

[ratsummer]

I'm feeling really incoherent but... What if Dewdrop is a very, very tactile ghoul? Just constantly craving and seeking physical contact with his packmates?

Maybe when he passes Mountain in the hall, he stops him for a moment to stand up on his tiptoes and nuzzle up under his jaw. When he's in the library with Cirrus, he kicks his feet up in her lap while she's reading and can't properly cuddle. At mass, he holds Swiss' hand and twines their tails together while he closes his eyes and listens raptly to Papa preach.

What I (and my bestie!!!) think he likes best though is when he can listen to someone's heartbeat. Oh, how he loves to sprawl out on top of his beloved packmates, an ear pressed to a chest. The deep, resonant sound of their hearts pumping, the whooshing and rushing of blood... It soothes him like nothing else.

Maybe after his transition to fire he gets especially addicted to hearing his pack's hearts. He can't dive as deep or for as long as he could before, and snuggling up to someone's chest reminds him of being underwater... and it's so much warmer and cuddlier to hold his packmates than to hold his breath in the lake.

Also, no one is safe! Dew is generally respectful of when his packmates are actually busy with something important or genuinely need alone time, but if he deems it appropriate (and his definition is QUITE loose) then he's snuggling up and purring and pressing his ear over a heart. Even Copia gets a lapful of snuggly fire ghoul quite often. After all, the majority of the letters and approval forms and official statements are (in Dew's opinion) deeply unimportant. So, it's no problem at all if Dew crawls in his lap and cuddles close and he has to prop his chin between Dew's horns and reach around him awkwardly to keep working. No problem at all.

[ashthewaterghoul]

I assume at one point all of the Papas had a “favorite” Ghoul to sleep with and to -sleep- with. Who’s bedding down with whom?

Oooo okay...

I'm going to go off "canon" and only use the Ghouls that each Papa had with them on stage.

First, literal sleeping with,

Primo - Earth.

They are very close, manning the greenhouses and flower beds together at any chance they get. Often they like to nap together before, during or after their work, or just sleep through the night in each other's beds. Earth also grows and makes teas that relax Primo, and help him sleep through the night. A rare occurrence since his rise to Papa-hood, because he had to spend so much time away from his beloved fratellini, and was often worried sick about them. Even more so following their rises, and their trips away.

Secondo - Omega.

Secondo is a world class insomniac. Quintessence can knock him right out and make him feel rested when he wakes up in the morning. Those treatments from the infirmary just make him feel worse, and the strength he needs poses a great risk of severe side effects. Omega gets to be privy to the lovely sight of a peaceful Secondo. He smiles in his sleep and looks about 10 years younger. Secondo always feels safe being held by the big Quint.

Terzo - Alpha.

Yes, he may be the Ministry's resident asshole like 99% of the time, but that 1% is reserved for those he loves. Terzo is one of them. Terzo always pushes himself way too much in a desperate attempt to impress the Clergy, and has a lot of chronic pain leftover from sprains and injuries he refused to sit out for long enough to heal. Alpha's natural heat helps soothe it, and it's just so fucking cozy. Terzo also feels very very very safe in the hold of his Fire Ghoul that would rip the world apart just to get him the last sandwich, and often gets some of the best nights sleep ever.

Copia - Phantom.

The little Ghoul had been through a lot in the pits and during their early days topside. Phantom often craved the protection that Copia assured them they would receive in his charge, but felt like too much of a burden to ask for it. Often, Phantom would sleep on the floor by Copia's bed so they didn't wake him up. But Copia, ever restless, would find Phantom on the floor and lift them into his bed. Phantom eventually realised it was okay to ask, and Copia gave them a spare key for the room. Phantom felt safe, and Copia loved protecting his little pipistrello, often feeling like they were the child he never had. They both sleep very well on those nights.

Okay now the other kind of sleeping with...

MDNI from this point on, obviously.

Primo - Omega.

Primo has some horrific joint pain, but with a lovely dose of Quintessence, he feels younger than his brothers all over again. He adores how Omega is oh-so-careful with how much Quintessence the Papa is receiving and how he'll give Primo anything he wants. Whether it be fast or slow, rough or soft. Anything. Primo just gets to let go of worries about how his body will react and live out all the fantasies he could ever dream of, whether he's in command or not. And Omega will always help him deal with the after-effects.

Secondo - River.

Idk, it just makes sense to me. He made the mistake of looking over to River playing the bridge of 'Stand By Him', thrusting his bass into the audience. Bro's been fixated ever since. Secondo finds River is one of the only people he can completely drop his guard around & give into whatever that graceful & strong Water Ghoul wants of him. Secondo usually tops or at least doms all his sexual encounters, it's what everyone expects of him & he finds he can't drop that front. But he can let go & be River's. Secondo only ever subs for River, and for River only. He loves when River just uses him. No respect for his rank or what he represents, he's just as good as a common whore. Also loves when River makes love to him & builds Secondo back up piece by piece.

Terzo - Omega.

Need I explain? I don't think so but I will anyway lol. Omega was the first Ghoul that Terzo saw, interacted with and slept with. You never do forget your firsts, after all. Terzo chose his colour for his robes to match Omega's eyes and magic, and if they could soul-bond and mate in the way Ghouls did, they would do it. They did try, but the magic washed over Terzo and left Omega with a half-fulfilled bond that weighed on him constantly unless he was near Terzo. So naturally they go at it like rabbits and rarely spend a lot of time apart.

Copia - Cumulus.

HEAR ME OUT!!!! Copia loves all his Ghouls, but especially Cumulus. When Copia noticed he'd gained some weight, he became incredibly self-conscious. He quite literally fell on his knees one night and begged her for how she did it. And Cumulus worshiped that man. She kissed all along his stomach, ground herself onto the gorgeous rolls of pudge and made him feel so loved that he couldn't help but love himself. He loves being in control of their encounters, but what he loves even more than that is Cumulus being the sexiest Dominatrix you ever did see (he absolutely calls her 'Mommy' btw). They can also be just as soft, and are on the regular, just like that fateful night. Copia also returns the favour on the odd day when Cumulus struggles with her own self-image. There's just an understanding there, and no one can match it.

[papasbaseball]

Quick Terzo smut?

Yeah

If I could ever imagine a better use for those gloves it would be a miracle. The white cotton tastes clean on the tongue and is so filling. Push and press and coax my tongue to the will of his fingers.

"Principessa, there is no need to be such a whore. You know that your Papa will fuck you just the same, yes?"

I moan and rock back onto him, forcing him deeper into me. With the way this week has been, it's still not deep enough. A stifled "Please" coats his fingers.

"So desperate," he coos, his hand kneading at my hip. "Is there something you are not telling me?"

My lips curl around those fingers, sucking the cleanliness from the cloth. I suck until he wrenches my jaw open, dragging his fingers free. He always knew how to whittle in underneath the cracks in your skin, nothing could be hidden that he wouldn't pry out quickly and efficiently.

"You won't be mad?"

The wet glove slipped under the black satin chemise — a gift upon becoming his personal concubine — and ran the slick fabric in a scissoring motion around a nipple, back and forth, back and forth. When I'd least expect it, he'd take it between thumb and forefinger, rolling it as if it were a prized pearl he was considering how to best use.

I think he whispers something in Italian against my neck, perhaps words of reassurance. The syllables were muddy through the noise of anticipation: silence and a quiet keen as he stopped.

"I stole a necklace," I blurt out

"Whose?"

He hasn't moved an inch since he placed me upon the throne of his lap. My inner thighs ache with stretch as his knees spread my straddle further.

"You're mean."

His dark laugh pulls my spine flush to his chest and I resist the urge to fuck him myself. "I never said I was not."

I bite my lip thinking about settling for the mere stretch of his unholy cock. A month ago, it alone could have pleased me. Now I craved putting my hand on my stomach, feeling as it carved so deep in me it's own space that the dominance of my body could be felt in outlines for anyone he might invite back into his bedroom to witness my torture.

"It was Sister Imperator's."

"Oh?" Surprise colored his voice.

"A ghoul caught me and I'm supposed to go to her office tomorrow to receive my punishment."

He shifted his hips enough to taunt at the movement needed. I dug my fingernails in vain against the glossed wood of his desk, letting my hair fall forward to hide my face as I stifled a bratty cry about how unfair he was being.

"I will give you your punishment and take care of Sister Imperator. You have told your Papa the truth, sì?"

"Yes," I lie.

"Good. I would hate to punish my Principessa tomorrow too. Especially during Mass."

[iamthecomet]

-tumbles in-

First and foremost <3

Second, some ghoul thoughts.

Dew is a very tactile guy; He likes to hold and be held, and gives some of the best goddamn hugs.

Even Swiss, who is seen as a very physically passionate guy, melts into Dew's hugs, and has even shed a couple tears while in his arms.

He's comfortably warm and smells oddly comforting, so it's easy to just relax into his embrace, and when he starts to run a soothing hand over your back or through your hair, it's hard not to feel safe.

Aether will sometimes seek him out after a long day in the infirmary just to rest his head on his chest and let Dew's hands work their magic while the ghoul purrs up a storm.

However, when Dew is feeling crumby and needs a pick me up, who does he go to? Who does he think gives the best hugs?

Swiss is up there, but he talks too much sometimes, Aether is nice, but he frets too much, and he loves the rest of his packmates, but when he needs that quiet, tender embrace?

He goes to Zephyr.

No matter how much he loves it when Cumulus spoons him, Rain plays with his hair, or Omega lets him lay on his chest...

It's Zephyr who knows exactly how to make him feel safe and comfortable enough to forget the stress and worries of the day and sleep.

Sometimes the others will find him curled up beside them, an arm holding him close, and the look Zephyr gives them when they approach is very clear, "Wake him up, and I will kill you."

There's something about Dew that makes Zephyr feel... protective, perhaps.

Maybe it's because they're acutely aware of how others perceive him, that they think he's closed off and doesn't want or need the softness he craves so strongly at times, or maybe it's because Dew reminds them just a little bit of Ifrit.

Who's to say.

-tumbles out-

<3<3<3<3<3<3 oh my heart. This is...oh Dew. Oh Zeph. I'm so glad we share the headcanon that Dew gives great fucking hugs. He's a little guy, but he's warm and he hugs tight and strong. Hugging Dew feels like home. and of course it's Zephyr. Calm. Sturdy. Quiet Zeph, who won't ever try to get Dew to talk, won't fuss over him. Will just let him melt into a hug without any questions, no reason needed, no worry. I just adore them. ♥

[bellasmumblingsandmusings]

Interlude: What a Day...

Previously: Prologue Tumblr Link for Prologue, Chapter One; Chapter Two, Chapter 3, Interlude Chapter 4 Chapter 5, Chapter 6 Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 Chapter 9 , Chapter 10

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. NSFW, Ethical and non Ethical BDSM, noncon, some allusions to sexual violence, flashbacks to sexual violence, discussions of sexual violence, dubious boundaries, attempted sexual violence, dubcon, blood licking/blood kink, reference to cheating behavior, emotional trauma, group sex, sex, smutt, anxiety, negative thinking, sexual trauma, recovery, healing, angst,

Word count: 74K total

Status: Ongoing

(Chapter 11, Aug 28th)

Song for this Chapter: Elastic Heart -Sia

Entire Story Link on AO3 Spotify Playlist AO3

After the Jump!

Interlude: What a Day…

The First Day...

The morning sun cast long, eerie shadows across the cobblestones outside Gale’s imposing wizard tower in Waterdeep, filling the crisp air with the scent of damp earth and lingering magic. Astarion paced nearby, his steps deliberate and measured. Look at me, reduced to pacing like a mortal. How charming, he thought, his mind racing. He needed to approach Sima with a clear head, to articulate his desires without the anger that had clouded their previous encounter. His crimson eyes flickered with determination as he took a deep breath, smoothing his clothes before stepping forward and calling out, voice steady yet tinged with urgency.

“Sima!”

His call echoed through the morning air, breaking the silence and drawing the attention of any passers-by. As he waited, Astarion took one more deep breath, gathering his thoughts and preparing himself for the difficult conversation to come. What a wretched irony, to cling to shadows while craving the light. Perhaps I’m nothing more than the monster I feared becoming. Despite his cool exterior, his heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. He would do anything to convince her to join him, even if it meant revealing a softer side he usually kept hidden.

Sima emerged onto the balcony from the night before, leaning over the railing. She wore a powder-blue dress, and her long black ringlets swung in the soft breeze of morning. "Well, look at what the tressym dragged in. I half-expected you to show up with your ghouls in tow. Nice to see reason prevails. What’s it to be? Demands? Threats? Promises?" she said, her tone weary as she stood high above him.

"Ah, my love," Astarion greeted her with a wry smile, tilting his head back to look up at her. "Still playing the part of the aloof lady in high places, I see. But no, no threats or demands this time. I’m here for a less... confrontational discussion." He took a moment to compose himself, his gaze never leaving hers, before continuing with a measure of earnestness he would usually hide. "I wish to talk, not as adversaries, but as... partners. You and me."

"Right, partners. Hmmm, I have to say you sound convincing. Vaguely. Wolf in sheep's clothing, no less. Fine, fly on up, but remember Gale has wards in place to keep me safe and sound right here," Sima said with a smirk, appreciating the countermeasures she had devised with her friend. The wind kicked up her powder-blue dress, revealing her legs and deep brown skin.

"Oh, I'm a wolf alright. You can trust me. At least, a little."

Astarion flew up in his bat form before transforming back. His eyes roamed over her, taking in the view and the way her legs were revealed by the wind. Ah, to taste the sweetness of her skin again. He had missed her so much, he had ached and burned for her presence, and now she was here, so close. He longed to touch, to kiss, to taste, but that would come in time... if he played his cards right.

"I think I prefer the bat, honestly. Oddly enough, you're less biting in that form. Get on with it, will you?" Sima leaned back against the railing of the balcony, eyeing him with suspicion and watching him as he walked around her. She crossed her bare legs under her dress, the wind of the high balcony blowing her black ringlet curls.

"Ah, but what's the fun in that? All you'd be doing is sitting here, watching me fly around. No, I much prefer this form, all the interesting things I can do. Wouldn't you agree, dear?" Astarion walked around her, circling, studying, eyeing every part of her with an intensity and desire. He stopped in front of her, his eyes still drawn to her legs, though his gaze slowly traveled up her body, along her neck, and landed on her face. Is this Cazador’s legacy? A wretched creature, clinging to power like a lifeline, even as it poisons everything it touches? He dismissed the thought. No, I’ve surpassed that miserable wretch. But still, here I am, clinging to power... It’s almost amusing how little has changed.

Sima scowled. "Considering all your utter bullshit last night and how you've treated me prior to my last month in hiding, you have some gall to look at me like that. You haven't earned the right to look at me like that," Sima said, quickly walking away, frustrated by his flippant attitude and thinking he could simply charm his way out of his horrid behavior. He had nearly killed her chasing her down in Baldur's Gate and nearly taking her by force in the Enclave weeks ago.

Astarion followed her around the balcony, matching her as she walked. Losing her... The final death? How poetic. The last vestige of the man I was, slipping through the fingers of a god. How utterly laughable. He maintained his composure, his voice softening as he spoke. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear. Have I not earned the right to admire the woman who holds all my heart in her hands? Shall I gouge out my eyes so you are spared my gaze? Or would you rather I stop pursuing you? Stop trying. Stop loving you?" He stopped in front of her, blocking her path. He reached out, gently tracing her cheek with his fingers. His voice softened as he spoke.

Sima looked at him, square in the eyes. "Tell me, did you come here to trade barbs with me, or is there an actual use to you being here this morning? Otherwise, I would be happy to shove you off the balcony and see if you bounce when you hit the bottom of the cobblestones," Sima said before walking around him back to the door of her quarters connected to the balcony.

Astarion followed her again, though faster this time, and grabbed her wrist before she could get through the door. "No, no more of this. I'm not here to trade barbs with you." His voice was harsh, his grip on her wrist tight. He stepped closer, closing the gap between them. He reached out with his free hand, gently cupping her chin and forcing her to look at him. "I'm here because I have to talk to you. Because I'm not going anywhere until you listen to me."

Sima pulled away and raised her hand. "You want to talk, then talk. No touching. Got it? Say what you need to say," Sima said, crossing her arms and looking at him with pure frustration etched on her features.

Astarion grimaced. He didn't like being denied the ability to touch her, to touch his dear. What remains of me without you, darling? A god, perhaps, but a hollow one—clinging to the power that now feels like ash in my mouth. But he took a step back anyway. He knew if he pushed it further, he would get nowhere at all. "Fine. I'll keep my hands to myself. At least for now."

Astarion let out a frustrated sigh. He was struggling to control his emotions, to keep from shouting, screaming at her to listen to him. Madness... or simply the next step in this ascension? Descending into darkness—I should have expected as much. How delightfully tragic. He took a breath, composing himself. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"Oh, there's quite a bit. Say, the hunt with your wolves. The bats. Oh, let's not forget the insane way you behaved back in Baldur's Gate at the Enclave, wanting to claim me. What, all of that is gone now, a month onwards?" Sima said, her face a visage of disdain. He had tried to force her to be with him, and she wasn't backing down.

Astarion's face soured as he heard her words, not the sweet sound of her voice. No, it was what she said that set him off. He clenched his jaw, his eyes hardening as he met her gaze. "No, it's not gone! Gods curse it, can you not understand? I want you, I want you to be mine!" he snapped back, his voice cold and sharp. "Is that really so much to ask? To want to protect you, to have you by my side always? To take care of you?"

"Oh, is that your offer? Protection? Partnership? Remember you said it yourself, we are partners right up against when it comes down to your authority over me. That's not a partnership, that's a farce!" Sima said, turning away from him and then coming back with her finger pointed. "And let's not forget your little game of kidnapping me after the ball and trying to keep me hostage. Your safety is a cage, Astarion."

Astarion's temper flared, his eyes narrowing in anger. The mention of the kidnapping and the threats sent a wave of frustration through him. You really are intent on making this difficult, aren't you? He took a deep breath, trying to maintain what little composure he had left. "And what would you prefer?" he snapped back, his voice low and menacing. "To be out on your own with no one watching your back? No one to protect you when you sleep at night? No one to care what happens to you?"

He moved closer to her, glaring down at her with an intensity that belied his facade of civility.It’s laughable, really—this tug-of-war between what I was and what I’ve become. Do you even see it, Sima? He clenched his hands into fists, the frustration and anger bubbling up inside of him. He'd tried to have a civil conversation with her, tried to explain himself, but it seemed like she just didn't understand.

"Oh, you think you can handle yourself, do you? You think you're strong enough to fend off every threat, to face the dangers of the world alone?" he retorted, his voice filled with mockery. Foolish, to think she can stand alone in this world. And yet... there’s something terrifying in her defiance—something I cannot control.

He took another step closer to her, towering over her, his eyes flashing. "I think you need to look into the mirror and realize the darker reasons you offer these things to me. Look at what you want. Look at how far you are willing to go to get it. You've already chased me across the Sword Coast. How far are you truly willing to go to make me stay?" Sima said, drawing a line between his supposed protection and dominance.

"You think I'm afraid to go further? I've come this far already, my love. Don't think I won't take whatever steps necessary to get what I want," Astarion said, his voice low and dangerous. He took yet another step towards her, closing the distance between them to mere inches. Would she even recognize me if I revealed how deeply this cuts? No. That’s a weakness I cannot afford. "I will do whatever it takes, Sima. If you think I'm going to let you slip through my fingers, you're sorely mistaken."

"If that's true, then do the thing that you are afraid to do. Respect what I want. My choices, the time to make them, and the desire that you need to recognize that I stand toe to toe with you. No half measures, no lies, no omissions or exceptions. You throw the offer of true vampirism at me, and just expect me to say yes. Well, damn you, and your fucking pride, I will not just give in," Sima said, softly pushing him back to give her some space on the balcony where they stood.

Astarion's face twisted into a snarl as she pushed him back, and he fought the urge to grab her and pull her close again. Her refusal rankled him, and his blood boiled with a mixture of frustration and desire. Of course, she resists. They always resist. But this time... this time, I won’t let go. "You really are intent on making this difficult, aren't you?" he said, his voice still low and his words dripping with sarcasm. "I am offering you everything, and you still refuse?! Do you not understand what that kind of power means? The things we could do together?"

"The power you would have. What's to say you will turn me into a true vampire? What's to say you won't just turn me into a spawn and have at it? What's to say that we don't have two thrones but one where you sit and me on a leash? All you've painted for me is this perfect picture, but what does sharing power with another vampire even look like to you? Especially in your domain," Sima said, challenging him, trying to pull out the kernels of truth in this fantasy he had woven.

Astarion's hands clenched into tight fists, but he refrained from grabbing her. A leash? Darling, that’s hardly romantic, is it? He tried to maintain his composure, trying to keep the sharp edge out of his voice. "We'd be equal partners, sweetheart. Or is that not what you want? I thought you were the type to crave adventure and power. Well, here it is, right in front of you. We could have that, together. Isn't that what you want?"

Sima looked into his crimson eyes. "Gods, it's like being back at camp all over again. The allure, the lure of power. Trying to get me to agree. Except now it's not a bite or blood, it's the very nature of who I am. I know you, I see you. You hunted me down, forcing me to stay. And now you dangle this instead of offering me a glimpse of who you once were. You refuse to let me in and don't blame the ascension. It's you choosing to cut yourself off. To be this... thing."

Astarion's nostrils flared as she spoke, her words cutting into him with a harshness that he couldn't deny. He wanted to protest, to defend himself, but the truth was that she was right. And what would you have me do? Lay my heart at your feet to be trampled on? I’m a vampire, my love. It’s in my nature to be possessive, dominant, and yes—to demand obedience. That’s who I am, dear. You of all people should know that.

"That's such a load of horseshit. You think I've been lying around doing nothing for a month in Waterdeep? I've read everything I can on your kind, everything. And let me tell you, you have a chance here to be something different. So if you want anything from me, you want this compromise you so delicately put together? Then you need to change. Don't bother coming to speak with me until you do. I am done with the threats, I am done with you not seeing me," Sima said, pressing a finger to his sternum before turning and going back to her balcony room, slamming the door behind her.

Astarion let out a frustrated growl as the door slammed, and he clenched his fists in anger. Her stubborn insistence on resisting me is more infuriating than my own internal battle against these cursed instincts. For a few minutes, he stood at the door, seething. His mind warred between the urge to force his way in, to use his strength to take what he wanted, and the knowledge that such an action would only drive her further away. But would that be so bad? To claim her by force, to finally end this tiresome game of wills?

With a curse, he turned away and stalked toward the balcony, transforming into his bat form and flying back down, endeavoring to continue their battle of wills in the coming days.

The Second Day...

The night had settled deep over Waterdeep when Astarion knocked on Gale's door, his composure masking the anticipation simmering beneath. The door opened to reveal Gale, who greeted him with a nod. Astarion’s gaze immediately found Sima across the room, her posture tense and her eyes sharp. She was a vision in her short leather skirt and black crop top, reminiscent of their earlier days—a reminder of the power she held over him.

“Gale, can you give us a moment, please?” Sima’s voice was tight, barely concealing the storm of emotions brewing inside her. He’s here again. Why can’t he just leave me alone? She tried to keep her composure, but the sight of him stirred a complicated mix of emotions—anger, longing, and something darker.

Gale hesitated, his eyes flicking between them, before he nodded. “Of course, take as long as you need,” he said, exiting with Tara following close behind.

Astarion didn’t move immediately, savoring the sight of Sima. His gaze was predatory, tracing the curve of her legs, the rise and fall of her chest, and the way her hair framed her face. He smirked, a calculated move to disarm her. “Well, hello there, darling,” he purred, his voice low and laden with promise.

That voice... gods, why does he have to sound like that? Sima’s pulse quickened despite herself. She hated that he still had this effect on her, hated how easily he could make her feel weak. But she refused to let him see it.

“This time using the front door. How much did you hate that instead of sneaking around like a thief in the night?” Sima’s words were sharp, but Astarion caught the flicker of something else in her eyes—something he could work with.

“Oh, you know me, darling. I do enjoy a surprise now and then.” He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate, as if stalking prey. “But today, I thought a more... civilized approach was in order.”

Civilized... Sima almost laughed. He was anything but. Yet, as he closed the distance between them, the air between them crackled with tension, thick and palpable. Astarion’s gaze lingered on her lips, then trailed down to the curve of her neck, exposed and tempting. “And yes,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in, his breath brushing against her ear, “I’ve come to make my case, again.”

This is a game to him, Sima reminded herself, though the proximity of his lips to her ear sent a shiver down her spine. He’s always been so damn good at this... She stiffened, trying to regain control. “Well, the condemned man comes to visit. Only fitting I listen,” she said, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts. “What’s it to be today? Threats? Pleas for partnership?”

Astarion chuckled, the sound dark and seductive. “Oh, my love, you think you have me all figured out, don’t you?” He moved closer, his body almost brushing against hers. The heat of him, the scent of him—leather, spice, and something uniquely Astarion—was intoxicating. “But I’m full of surprises.”

Surprises, she thought, her heart racing despite herself. That’s one way to put it. His fingers brushed her arm, sending a jolt of electricity through her. The connection was instant, a sharp reminder of how easily he could affect her, and wholly unwelcome. She hated that he still had this power over her.

He reached out, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her arm, trailing up to her shoulder, where he let them linger, his touch both a caress and a claim. “No threats,” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to her ear. “No kidnappings. Just a civilized talk. But I must say, dear,” he continued, his voice a soft, dangerous murmur, “you look absolutely divine in that skirt.”

Sima’s breath hitched, the words stirring something deep within her. Damn it... She could feel the chill of his nose against the warmth of her neck, the contrast sending shivers down her spine. This is exactly what he wants. Don’t let him win... She steeled herself, trying to ignore the pull he had on her, the way her body responded to his every move. “If you think I don’t know what you’re doing, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment,” she said, her voice wavering as she tried to maintain her defiance. “There was a time when it was sincere, you know. Not a game or a ploy.”

Astarion sighed against her skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. “You assume I’m not sincere every time I touch you,” he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. “But I always have a reason for what I do. It’s true, but that doesn’t mean it’s not heartfelt. I want to be close to you, always.”

Always... The word echoed in her mind, twisting something deep inside her. But what does that mean when it comes from someone like him? He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. For a moment, she allowed herself to melt into his embrace, feeling the softness beneath his exterior. The possessive creature he had become wasn’t dangerous in this moment. But she knew better than to trust this calm.

His hands traced the curves of her hips, thighs, and waist, each touch more intimate, more possessive than the last. “You cannot truly fear me,” he whispered, his voice a low, seductive growl. “You know I would sooner die than allow harm to come to you.”

Sima let him hold her, her body betraying her resolve as it melted into his embrace. Why does it feel so safe, so... right? she wondered, her heart conflicted. For a moment, she allowed herself to drown in the sensation—the safety and danger, the pleasure and pain. But as his lips trailed along her cheek, her mind screamed for her to stop, to remember the pain he had caused her before. She pushed back, the movement breaking the spell he had cast over her. “No,” she whispered, almost to herself. “No, I deserve more than just this.”

Astarion’s heart ached as she pulled away, leaving him with a hollow emptiness. He stared at her, his breath ragged, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and disappointment. “More than just this?” he repeated, his voice laced with frustration and disbelief. “What more do you want from me, dear? I’m giving you everything I have.”

Everything... The word sounded hollow in her mind. But is it really? Sima’s eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. “Trust, respect, to give me more than your body and to give me the part of you that is still there. That softness,” she said, her voice filled with anger and hurt. “I don’t know what’s worse. Knowing that you want to have control over me or not trusting me with all of you. You were always so much more to me than just your body, you know that.”

Astarion’s expression darkened as her words stung him to the core. He knew she was right, that there was more to himself that he was holding back. “You want that softness, do you?” he said through clenched teeth, “I tried to give it to you, dear, and look where it got me. The world doesn’t care if you’re kind, it doesn’t care if you’re vulnerable. It will tear you apart the moment you let your guard down.”

“How can you not trust me? I am not the rest of the world, I have bled with you, fought with you. How can you still not know better after all this time?” Sima looked at him incredulously, deeply pained and furious.

Astarion ran a hand through his hair, his frustration at himself and her frustration at him mixing into a toxic brew of emotion. “It’s not a question of trust, dear. It’s a question of survival. When you’ve been hurt as many times as I have, it’s hard to believe that any kind hand out there is genuine, that anyone isn’t just waiting to stab you in the back. It’s easier to take what you want before it can be taken from you.”

Survival? Sima thought, her anger flaring again. And what am I, in that calculation? “Well, you cannot take my love. I am not a thing to be conquered, I am not a thing to be won. I need us to be different. If I can’t find shelter with you, who can I find shelter with? If I can’t trust you, who in this godsforsaken world can I trust? Don’t you see? It’s not fair to me, to offer up pleasure and hold back the very thing that I need,” Sima said, opening up her hands as if she was willing to accept him if he could do this.

The sheer raw emotion of Sima’s outburst hit Astarion like a punch to the gut. He felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over him—anger, guilt, helplessness.

“Dammit, Sima!” he exclaimed, his voice almost choked with frustration. “Of course, it’s not fair! Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t want it too? But every time we’ve tried this before, it’s gone wrong. Every time, I’ve ended up getting hurt!”

And what about me? Sima’s heart pounded with both anger and sorrow. You’re not the only one who’s suffered. “No! No. Don’t you dare bring up me leaving you! You know that was because of your need for control. You know it’s because you tried to force me into being your spawn. You know it was more about your need to keep everything as it was, than to let me in! You grasp at control and you push me away!” Sima yelled back, her voice echoing in Gale’s drawing room.

Astarion’s expression hardened, a storm of emotions raging in his eyes. “That’s rich, coming from you! You’re no saint in this, darling! You always act so high and mighty, but you’re not perfect. You’re not some shining beacon of good that can fix all my flaws. Maybe I do grasp for control, maybe I need control, just like you need to be all sweet and gentle and kind! Maybe that’s just who we are!”

Sweet and gentle? Sima’s anger flared. Is that all he sees? “Don’t you dare be sarcastic. You know I am being honest, and all you do, yet again, is run away. Maybe I left, but you ran first. You run from me, you run from yourself, and you run from what you are becoming!” Sima’s voice rose, filled with hurt and anger.

Astarion’s frustration boiled over, his control slipping even further. “And what exactly is it, dear, that I’m becoming, huh? A tyrant? A monster?” Astarion’s voice dripped with venom, the words laced with both anger and something deeper, a fear he refused to name. “Go on, say it! Say what we both know you’re thinking!”

Sima’s breath caught in her throat. “You’re becoming him. I am afraid, and you are becoming him.”

The words struck him like a physical blow. He recoiled, but then something dark within him, something Ascendant, twisted the pain into anger, defiance. “And I suppose I should just let that get the better of me, is that it? Change who I am just to make you happy? I’m stronger than that, dear. I won’t shrink back just because you’re afraid I’m becoming him. I made a choice, I decided who I would be, and I will see it through. Your hands are just as bloody as mine, darling!”

Sima looked at him in dismay. “Then why even be here? Why keep trying if you think it’s pointless? Do you actually expect me to look past this? I may have helped you ascend, and yes, those bodies are on me, but I have suffered for a year since we parted. You know what happened to me in Calimport, you know the pain I feel every day! Don’t say I haven’t paid because I have. I lost you, and I lost myself the day you ascended.”

“You left me,” he shot back, stung at the implication that he hadn't suffered too in their separation, in some ways more than she had. He closed the gap between them, grabbing her shoulders, his fingers digging in just tightly enough to keep her from backing away. “You left me alone in that damned, empty, cold palace. I needed you.”

Sima pulled away. “And I need you to see me, to recognize me, to not push me away or push me behind you. Do you remember what you were like during those months when I was with you? Do you remember beginning to put me under your thumb? Of course not, because that doesn't matter, does it?! Love isn’t enough to get past this, and neither is sex. I need something more, and I have told you time and time again what that is, but you refuse me,” Sima said resoundingly before walking around him and leaving him in Gale’s drawing room as she left, going back up the stairs of the tower.

Astarion watched her leave, seething internally at the memory she brought up. He could remember, to an extent—flashes of memory more than anything. Not enough to know exactly what he’d said, but enough to know it had been unkind, dismissive, controlling. Enough to hate himself for it. He followed after her.

“Where are you going? I’m not done with you yet!”

Gale calmly walked in front of him before the stairs. “Oh yes, you are, my friend. Sima is the one who is the injured party in these talks, lest you forget. So I’m afraid if the lady says no... at least in my tower, it means that’s the end of that. Now, I am happy to entertain you with a bottle of something stiff, considering you might need it.”

Astarion scowled at Gale, bristling at being denied, being told he wasn’t needed or wanted, being denied what was his. But he also wasn’t in the mood to fight with Gale over this. “Fine. But whatever you give me, make it stronger than a child’s drink, would you?”

Gale humbly smirked and turned to fetch two bottles, leaving Astarion alone with Tara. The tressym eyed him with open boredom and disdain before speaking. “Honestly,” she said under her breath, her whiskers fluttering.

Astarion eyed the creature warily, taking in Tara’s unamused look. He sat down on the floor, looking up at her with a guarded expression. He could feel that she was no fan of him. “Yes, yes, I know, I’m detestable, I’ve heard it before.”

Tara looked at him and, like a regal creature, quickly stretched as if his personal issues were somewhat beneath her. “No, well, yes, Mr. Ancunin, but honestly, you’d think a vampire would have more charm. Yelling at the lady will do you no favors,” the weary tressym said, licking her fur and ruffling her wings.

Astarion bristled defensively. “And you’d think some mangy animal would know better than to interfere in people’s affairs,” he retorted, crossing his arms. “You have no idea what our relationship is like, so you should keep your mouth shut.”

Tara went on her hind legs and hissed at Astarion, her fur raised just in time for him to hiss back at her, like two territorial cats in one space.

“Don’t you dare hiss at me, you miserable wretch,” Astarion hissed, baring his fangs at her. At this moment, even Tara’s interference was the last thing he was in the mood to take.

Gale walked in talking, not even aware of the territorial hissing happening as he came in with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “So let me tell you about this whiskey, my mother—what in the bleeding hells is going on here?” Gale looked from Tara, who had her hackles raised, to Astarion, who looked like some pacing feline.

“Your bloody cat is the problem,” Astarion protested, his voice rising in volume as his frustration over the issue spilled over onto the wizard. He was in no mood to discuss the finer points of this. “She’s here, again, meddling in my business. I don’t remember requesting any furry creatures to witness every moment of my day, and yet there she is, judging me every sodding minute.”

“Perhaps you deserve it, especially with how you treat your supposed lady. Mr. Dekarios, I think I shall check on our lovely Sima and leave you with the ...stray,” Tara hissed before flapping her wings and flying up the tower. Gale shot Astarion a hot gaze and shoved the bottle and glass into his hands. “Pour yourself a glass and get out of my tower. Looks like I have more trouble of yours to clean up,” Gale said, shaking his head as he left.

Astarion looked at the whiskey in his hand and took a long swig directly from the bottle before walking off to leave the tower, taking the bottle with him. As he walked, he muttered under his breath, “It’s all bloody well my own gods-damned business in the first place. Nosy feline. Interfering wizard.”

Astarion walked down the streets of the city, drinking his whiskey. The night around him was cold, the wind blowing through his hair. As he walked, he passed a few shady figures and some people clearly just looking for a good time. He had no doubt he could find some way to kill the evening, but none would bring him what he actually wanted, and that thought only made him more bitter. He took another long swig, letting the whiskey burn down his throat, filling his head with a buzzing haze.

What he could not forget were Sima’s parting words. Her desire for openness. Trust, to let her in. It gnawed at him, the very edges of what he thought he should be. Would be, as he was now, as a vampire lord. The burn of the whiskey did little to help the bitterness the conversation had left on his tongue.

He thought back to their conversation. A hundred times, a thousand times, her words echoed through his mind: “I do not want lies, I do not want distance. You do not trust me.” And she was right. He didn’t. He could not trust someone who had seen the darkest parts of him and still wanted to stay around. Who would willingly bind themselves to such a creature as me? But he would not be alone, not like that. That was not an existence he would accept, no matter what it cost. She will accept me, as I am, one way or another, he thought with a grim determination. He just had to convince her.

The Third Day...

Astarion paced in front of Gale's tower, the usual poise replaced by an uncharacteristic restlessness. The pale moon cast long shadows across the cobblestones, adding an eerie quality to the scene. He was done with waiting, with the delicate dance of words that masked his true desires. He called out, his voice sharper than usual, slicing through the dead of night.

"I have to talk to you! Now!"

The urgency in his tone betrayed his irritation. The words echoed in the quiet air, reflecting the tumult within him as he waited for her to appear.

Sima emerged onto the balcony in her nightrobe, her expression a mix of surprise and annoyance. "Are you drunk or just too sated on blood? Do you have any idea what hour it is?"

Astarion looked up, annoyance flickering across his face. He ran a hand through his hair, the charming facade slipping to reveal his frustration. "I don't give a damn what time it is. We need to talk, and we're doing it now."

Sima sighed, her eyes narrowing as she looked around. "Just so you know, the ward keeping me here extends beyond my balcony. I'll come down, just keep it down for gods' sake." With a muttered incantation, she cast Fly on herself and descended, her nightrobe billowing around her as she landed lightly on the cobblestones. "You'd better have a good explanation for this," she hissed.

Astarion's eyes followed her descent, his expression darkening. "No time for pleasantries, love," he said coldly. "This can't wait." He stepped towards her, his movements swift and purposeful. "We're done with the stalling, with the talking. I've made my position perfectly clear, but you've been avoiding the inevitable."

Sima's eyes flashed with anger. "What the hells does that mean? Your position is business as usual. Excuse me if an eternity under your thumb doesn't suit me!" Her voice was a hiss, her stance defiant.

He doesn’t understand—control is not love. I won’t be caged. Sima’s internal resolve was firm, but she couldn't help the slight tremor in her voice as she faced him.

"Under my thumb, is it?" Astarion retorted, irritation clear in his voice. "Funny, you never complained before. You seemed so willing, so eager to give yourself to me. What changed?" He stepped closer, his voice low and intense. "You used to be mine, dear. You used to be mine, and I was yours. We were partners, remember? Equals."

Sima's eyes blazed with fury. "Oh, we stopped being equals some time ago, beloved," she spat, the endearment dripping with sarcasm. "I remember us living together, and those months of you turning things around. Difference, singular authority. The one in control, always! You don't share power, Astarion. You hoard it, even in our relationship. I can never have a fair share!" Her fists clenched, her body trembling with emotion.

What has become of me? A ruler or a tyrant? She sees only the monster... Astarion briefly wondered, the doubt gnawing at the edges of his mind, but he pushed it aside, steeling himself.

"I turned things around? I raised your station, gave you a life of luxury and privilege you could never have hoped to achieve on your own! What more do you want, darling?" He took another step towards her, his voice sharper. "And this nonsense about equality? It's rubbish. You're free to do as you please, as long as it pleases me as well."

"So insidiously hidden, the small print," Sima shot back. "What is equality if not the ability to withstand a difference in opinion? Did you ever really value my opinion, or did you just want a tumble and never felt anything for me at all? If you can't see me as an equal, a true one with value, then you can take your offer of true vampirism and stick it. I will not suffer another day being made to feel less by you!" Her voice trembled with a volatile mix of pain and anger.

Astarion's eyes darkened, his features hardening. "Is that what you thought? That all I wanted was a plaything, a doll to entertain me?" he spat. "You think I never cared? Never felt anything for you?" His breath came in ragged gasps, the weight of her accusations hanging heavy in the air. "You know that's not true. You know it, dammit!"

"Says the man who once put me in a chokehold and kissed me in front of our friends. Or have you forgotten what you were like right after the Ascension? Convenient, isn't it?" Sima's voice cracked with the pain behind her words. She turned away, her black ringlets swaying with her movement.

Astarion's lips curled back, baring his fangs. "Oh, I haven't forgotten, love. I haven't forgotten a single moment, a single touch. You think I would forget how perfect you looked when you were beneath me, submitting to me?" His voice dripped with venom, the memory still fresh and painful. "You think I'd forget the way you looked at me, the defiance in your eyes?"

Sima turned and slapped him hard across the face, her hands trembling as she brought them to her lips in horror. She couldn't bear hearing him speak that way about something that had hurt her so deeply.

Astarion took the slap, his head snapping to the side with the force of it. But he did not wince, did not shrink back. Instead, he let out a low chuckle, rubbing his jaw as he slowly turned his head back to face her. "There she is," he said quietly, satisfaction lacing his words. "There's the fire I know so well."

How can love be both a prison and a promise? Sima’s inner voice was laced with fear and defiance, her heart torn between conflicting emotions.

Sima's eyes blazed with a mix of fury and pain. "I am... sorry. But you do not get to tote out one of my most painful moments and use it for a jest. You do not speak that way to me, ever. Do you understand me? Or I will burn whatever feelings I have for you. So help me by the gods, I will." Her voice trembled, her lip quivering.

Astarion's smile faded, his expression growing serious. "You wouldn't," he whispered, stepping closer. "You're bluffing. That fire within you, you can't deny it. You can't deny us, no matter how hard you fight it." He gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Don't lie to me. Don't you dare lie to me, my love."

"If you continue to treat me like this, I will do more than burn my feelings down for you. I will dance on the ashes," she spat, pushing his hand away. "You do not speak to me as if I am one of your whores. You understand me?" Her voice shook with anger and pain.

His hand dropped to his side, the smirk vanishing. "You think that's how I look at you? As if you were cheap flesh, some mere passing pleasure?" he sneered. "Don't insult me, darling. I may be many things, but I have never seen you as less than what you are." He took a step forward, his body rigid with tension. "You're mine. You will always be mine."

"Then never speak to me like that again. I will not stand for it," Sima said, crossing her arms, her brown eyes full of fury.

"And I will not stand for defiance." Astarion moved closer, his voice a low growl. "What, you expect me to simply ignore the way you behave? To ignore your insolence, your stubbornness, your willful disregard of my feelings?" His body was taut with anger, the lines of his face hardened.

"And do you think I will ignore your disrespect for who I am, my choices, and just give in to your selfish needs always? To ignore my very nature?" Sima shouted back, the tower behind her illuminated in moonlight. The light dappled on them both, highlighting the stark contrast between their desires.

Astarion's eyes narrowed, the veins in his neck standing out as his frustration grew. "Your selfishness, that's what this is about. Your refusal to yield, to submit to me." He lunged forward, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her closer, his grip tight enough to be painful. "You think I enjoy this, that I want to demand your obedience? I would do anything to make you happy if you would just give in."

Why does she resist? Can she not see that this is the only way? Astarion’s thoughts were laced with frustration and desperation as he tried to understand her resistance.

Sima took a deep breath and calmly pushed him away. She looked into his eyes, the brown irises dark and defiant. "No, I will not. I will not accept anything less than being your equal, your true equal. I will not come home with you," she said, softly prying his hands off her shoulders, her stance firm and sure.

He leaned down, his face just inches from hers. "Is it really so difficult to understand? If you would just do as I say, all of this pain, all of this difficulty, it would go away. It doesn't have to be like this, not between us." His hands slid up her arms and over her shoulders, coming to rest gently on either side of her neck, his thumbs lightly tracing her jawline. "Just give in to me, love, and I will make you happy. I promise you. Trust me."

But can I trust him? Can I trust myself? Sima’s thoughts swirled in turmoil as she looked into his eyes, feeling the weight of his words and the pull of his touch.

Sima looked into his crimson eyes and saw two sides of him fighting within—the man she loved and the Ascendant who wanted nothing more than to rule. She couldn't tell which side was winning. She softly removed his hands from her and closed her eyes. "I need time, time away from you to make this choice. I can't come with you to Baldur's Gate, not like this. Not with you like this," she said gently, holding his hands before letting go of them and stepping backward towards the tower.

Astarion's hands lingered on her neck for a moment before he reluctantly pulled away, his eyes dark and calculating in the night. "Time. You want time away from me? You want to think about this, to consider your options?"

He took a step back, his jaw clenching in frustration. "Very well. Have it your way, my love. Take your time. But remember this: no matter how far you run, no matter how long you wait, you will always belong to me."

Sima narrowed her eyes at him. "And perhaps you should take this time too. To see if you are willing to give the things I need, rather than just the things you wish to give me." She spoke softly before turning to head back inside Gale's Wizard Tower, the night air filling the space where she once stood as she closed the grand doors behind her, leaving Astarion on the cobblestones.

Astarion stood, watching the closed door for a long moment, his mind racing. Her words stung, though he made no effort to show it, his expression blank and cold. Damn her… I can’t lose her, but I can’t change either. His thoughts warred within him, the Ascendant in him pushing for control, the man in him yearning for something more.

He stood in place, alone in the night, until he finally turned and walked away, the echo of her words ringing in his mind like a warning bell, a challenge he refused to let slide. With a final, lingering look at the tower, Astarion turned away, his mind already plotting the next move. He would return, and next time, he would not leave without her.

[galaghiel]

I went through your blog trying to find scraps of vampire au because I'm feral about vampires and now I crave even more.

Spare us a few more scraps Young Master? Mayhaps some rambling?

hiiii. oh man what do i say about this au except that everyone's so ooc it might as well be an original story lol. its hella self indulgent and edgy i'm literally throwing shit to the wall and see what sticks ajznzkzmlhjkl

tommy was originally a civilian, he was about to be dream's meal but he keeps outwitting him somehow. its turned into some sick one-sided game between them. one of quackity's 'agents' got a front row seat and goes 'you're hired' to tommy who knows fuck all. quackity is like 'lemme offer you protection in exchange for service' and tommy goes fuck it i'm in.

tommy managed to kill dream but not before dream bit him w full intention of turning him. maybe as some sort of thrall. as of now tommy is a sireless vampire who hunts other vampires. he operates on sheer spite and feeds on fellow vampires. which is like. kinda taboo and really fucked up. if you're familiar w tokyo ghoul he's basically a kakuja. like kaneki even lol.

[moldycantaloupe]

I'm bored and still working on a fic so in the mean time, here's a no-context-paragraph from each of my unfinished drafts that will most definitely never see the light of day;

Swiss knew he was fucked when Aether and Dewdrop sat on either side of him at Mass. He’d texted the two the day after ghosting both of them separately with a half assed apology claiming forgetfulness. But they both have noses, and Mountain reeked of him. Forgetfulness was not at play.

Phantom didn’t know where it came from; waking up was a struggle, their thoughts going a million miles the second their eyes opened. They contemplated getting ready for the day, wanting to just waste the entirety rotting in their overly warm bed. But promises were made when they were summoned, so through autopilot they managed to look halfway decent before leaving for breakfast.

“Phantom?” The figure asked, tentatively. They scooted further away from the bed, a fresh wave of fear running through their nerves. The figure hopped out of bed but didn’t follow them, instead they crouched down on the floor with their hands held up in front of them.

Rain liked touring for that reason, the chaos. The chaos of everything, always moving, never in the same place for long. He was forced to not think about everything, ironic as it is. The chaos gave him a break from himself, from his head. His bunk was too small to worry over, his shared space just that; shared space. Not his to obsess over.

Rain cut him off with a low growl, a warning. They knew how they looked right now; body hunched over themselves but rigid with their chest rising and falling in quick motions, tail whipping wildly behind them, eyes angry and wild. They knew they smelt like pure acid. Almost of a feral ghoul.

They nodded, standing up before Swiss could get a word out, already heading towards his room. They heard his chair squeak against the floor before footsteps followed them. They were quick to discard their shirt and pants once the door shut, leaving them only in their boxers. Swiss laughed, the noise that they usually seek now grating against their ears. He stripped down to his boxers and landed on his bed, patting the spot next to him. Phantom took the hint and joined him, sitting with their back stiff.

But it was all too late now. Now hours, maybe even days after the ritual he was sitting on the stone cold tile of his bathroom, leaning against his bathtub. He was hyperventilating, his lungs making false attempts to collect air but instead were drowning themselves in water he didn’t know he had. He had someone by his side, he’s not sure who, rubbing at his shoulder, but Satanas their hand against his skin was so hot, he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling heat that burned. He wants to yell at them to go, to never touch him again because he doesn’t know if he will ever be able to touch someone again without burning and it scares him. He’s shivering under their touch, and all he can do is breathe.

Except for one ghoul, except for Rain. He didn’t fully understand, maybe for how cool he ran compared to the others. Maybe because he had that water ghoul bond. Maybe because it was just Rain. He smiles to himself when Rain hands him a plate of food during dinner, their hands touching for a split second, the expected boiling of water replaced for a cool ocean. A pat on the shoulder during rehearsals, a ruffle in his hair while he sat on the couch just to tease. But Rain never did more than that. Dew knew Rain saw him hiss at Swiss for trying to hug him from behind during a bad day. He knew Rain thought Dew would hiss at him, too. But, oh, Dew began to actually crave for Rain’s touch.

[syntheticmortal]

I got tagged by the lovely @crownedinmarigolds! Thank you so much mate!! I'm absolutely charmed 🥰

Now my rat bastard spouse stole most of my tagging options on their post so to not double-tag I will add:

@skaerdir, @klaciate, @tzimizce and @vamp-orwave!!

If anyone who sees this wants to be an honourary tagee, then go for it XD

For those who don't know - Hi I am Alex! (He/They) and I'm a writer and an English immigrant to the USA!

3 ships: oh mate all of these are OCxOC with @c-n-i-d-a-r-i-a-n

Victor and Gloria – A Nos and his unbound Ghoulfriend. Making your touchstone one of your mission Ghouls is dangerous af but live fast love hard, lads.

Jeff and Lamb – Another of Vic's unbound Ghouls and the Thin Blood Nos that joined the Warren. Disgustingly fucking cute injected into the den of the rejected and disgruntled.

Ventan/Taakur Rig and Rozanin Rig – My and Daz's SWTOR PCs respectively. A Chiss Cipher Agent that ends up having to go hide with his Mandalorian hireling with her Clan and Roz's unrequited love becomes hella requited and suddenly Ventan/Cipher Five-now-Taakur has step kids??

I love it so much.

first ship: Oh god this takes me back to being little. Probably a Sonic one??

Shadow and Rouge if I had to take a guess??

last song: Temptation by Sean Paul! A proper bop

But honestly massive shout out to the second Nostalgia Synthwave mix by Odysseus on youtube

This thing keeps me sane, and has all the songs marked! – that opening one, Realign by Cerulean, can usually just melt my brain into peace whenever I hear it

last film: Snatch – Like VTMB it's a problematic fave that oozes style and characterisation throughout. Watched it as prep for a Setite I'm going to play in a V5 game >:D

currently reading: Altered Carbon by Richard Morgan as part of genre research. Finished The Vampyre recently too! Really I should pick AC up today, I've been working hard on my editing and outlining of my own pieces and neglecting the reading part of the craft for a few weeks >.>;

currently craving: So I'm drinking far less booze to save money whilst I'm out of work trying to get some Proper Writing done. So when I hit a good worthy milestone I'm getting a bottle of whiskey and I am ready.

fav color: Green! Sometimes purple!

relationship status: Maaarriiied to @c-n-i-d-a-r-i-a-n

last google search: I had to double check the spelling of Taakur for the ship section, so it was 'mandoa' :')

and before that I'm pretty use I searched Scryfall last night to go look at MTG cards even though I have no one to play with right now :'D (at least it's saving me money >.>)

current obsessions: Was tempted to add my own work here but I'll tag that on the very end XD

There's a lot of fandoms I don't leave – World of Darkness and Warhammer 40k predominantly as settings I always have another angle I want to see explored in!

I do however have the Magic the Gathering bug, even though I haven't really played in years and years now – but card interaction as a generation for narrative has always kind of captivated me? Like there's a couple big mean Ogre cards that make Rats more dangerous, but due to the way the systems work they also empower the Ratfolk of Kamigawa, the Nezumi, as they count as 'Rat' cards still. So big Ogre spellcasters improving Rat people as part of a contained bit of narrative kind of fascinates me as a concept.

Plus each deck presupposes a Planeswalker character who's casting those spells – and I was always intrigued by that notion and so most of my OCs are representative of decks I played (or wanted to :P) and then in turn each Planeswalker needs a Plane to come from, probably from a still existing culture on that Plane too, and so it can kind of wonderfully reverberate inspiration.

Like how every VTM Kindred OC presupposes a Sire!

BONUS ALEX SECTION

So if you want to get to know me, let me tell you about what writing I'm working on/have made recently.

Out now!

The Mutilation of Finley Reid

A short story of masculine horror, about a young man by the name of Finley who suffers in the pursuit of having his place as a man affirmed by his peers.

The world of Torranham Nights is an anachronistic reflection of England set in the coastal city state of Torranham, drawing from contemporary culture and folklore as well as the legends and reality of the cultures that came before – without being fetishistic about it like a lot of stories will.

Handle It

A short retail horror, about working the cash register of a butcher's counter, and the customer who orders increasing amounts of ground beef...

Inspired by my own work in a same spot, anyone who's done service work should get a kick out of this – plus it's free and only takes 20 minutes to read! XD

On the way!

Defector – name subject to change

A short story of grief, shame, suicidal ideation, alcoholism, and community. On the moon.

A Special Recon mech pilot, “Crash”, from Earth has defected to the Moon rebels, and now lives in Magnolia City, rotting away in her tiny apartment. Then the Provisional Government sends one of its elite commanders, a former enemy of Crash's, to pull her out.

Elhart: Arrival

The first of a short story fantasy anthology about a city of refugees at the edge of time and space, hiding from the end of the multi-planar universe. A super soldier has washed up with a near-fatal headwound and no memory, and she must learn to live in a far more peaceful world than the one her instincts suggest she came from. But who was she? And can she earn the trust of people who fear her potential to kill?

Neon Sun

A novel! Cyberpunk Vampires! If we're mutuals you can come ask about this but I'm not ready to share things too publicly for this one yet, but the outlining has gone beautifully in my opinion, and the worldbuilding is singing.

Speartip

I'm making a TTRPG!! It's a Powered by the Apocalypse engine game, about serving as the primary field agents of a faction of people who need your support and protection. Because if you're going to be a hero, who are you doing it for if not your kin?

Setting agnostic as hell, excluding some implicit need for magic in the class moves – I'm prepping to playtest this in sci-fi and fantasy settings to see how well my mechanics hold up in both swords and firearms based stories. Plus I'm going to explore a variety of perspectives of what the faction can be – from ethnic groups, to gangs, to guilds, to neighbourhoods.

I'm VERY excited about all this!!

[danieyells]

Omg I'm so emo over the Rui lines 😭😭😭

I have no idea if he was already a flirt before he was cursed (highly likely) but it's be really interesting if he at least exaggerated his persona to be extra frivolous (I can't think of an English word rn but basically whatever is the equivalent of "charai otoko") so that it's obvious he's "Looking for a good time but nothing serious" bc he can't touch anyone but at the same time craves human connection so his best bet is to just be a chatterbox who everyone likes to hang out with but never expect smth deeper out of. Can see it with MC too like how he randomly asks her out on dates but if mc actually says yes he's like oh sorry you gotta get permission to go out of campus with me(one of the campus talks) like he wasn't actually expecting her to accept.

But then ofc he actually starts growing feelings and keeps inviting her to stay over so they can at least talk more 😭😭 his max affinity line 🥺🥺😭

Ngl I'll go crazy if in the Obscuary chapter he accidentally makes contact with mc during the heat of battle or smth and they find out she's not affected by it and then he gets obsessed bc wow finally someone he can touch without worrying about murdering bc he is very clearly touchstarved!!!

And the irony that IF by chance that is the case, then he can only touch her within the year bc by then either she's dead or they lift her curse and the counter effect is gone 😭😭😭

HE REALLY IS PRETTY TRAGIC LIKE. . .HE MUST FEEL SO LONELY. He has to stay away from people even though he clearly loves people a lot haha. . . .

Based on the line about how he used to go surfing and pick up women I assume he was a flirt beforehand! (I imagine the best way to translate チャラい男 would be like. Playboy? Maybe womanizer or player if you want a negative context.) Maybe not as much as now(or maybe he was even worse back then--he is attractive and back then he could touch people, so I can see him as the handsy type, or a total playboy who slept around a lot) but he was probably still somewhat similar! But I can absolutely see him playing it up more once he can't touch anybody because it's like. . .the only way he can express himself is through words and actions now, not touch. Even being too close makes him nervous. He doesn't usually go into the main building(it's so crowded he's worried about accidentally touching and killing someone) and Tohma said his movements are quite restricted(because, again, can't get around too much if you're a kill-risk!) so he must feel pretty lonely. . .but being the shoulder to cry on, being able to provide the service of running a bar(although it seems like mostly other ghouls show up), being the flirty friendly guy who's just out of arm's reach makes him extremely popular and well loved while also keeping everyone safe. . .it lets him have some company without putting anybody in danger.

Sure, his clothes and gloves probably keep him from really putting anybody in danger, but who wants to test that? The possibility of being able to touch somebody isn't worth the risk of somebody dying to test it. Valuing peace and harmony is one of the generalized traits of Obscuary students--if it means everyone can be at peace and be safe, then he can sacrifice his needs for physical contact. If it means his curse does no harm he can stay away from people.

But yeah it does seem like he, as flirty as he is, sometimes doesn't expect to actually be taken up on his offers. Especially when some of them are really extreme, like when he suggests you stay overnight and such. On the other hand, I think he would let you stay overnight. . .just in another room or bed. You can sleep with Lyca! He'll curl up on you like a big dog should. I think he would go on dates with you on or off campus, if you had permission. But i think he'd also be scared of getting too close. Because that's how accidents happen. Even with how popular he is among the general students, the general students fear ghouls and probably keep their distance no matter how much they like him, even if they don't know about the curse. That combined with, like you said, he's clearly not in it for a commitment which helps keep the safety of space. . .but that doesn't work with the pc. They want to be close anyway.

And his affinity goes up and he likes the pc more and more. . .he wants them around but also is so scared of what he could do to them if they get too close. . .why couldn't he just have been normal. He wants them close by. . .he starts to indulge. He says they can come over whenever they want. Let them in on his personal life a little. He'll talk, he'll listen, he'll feed them and give them someplace to call a second home. They're part of his little family.

He wishes he could do more. Even if it were just holding their hand.

But imagine if he failed that test of his curse's limits with them.

Then they'd be gone. And it'd be his fault.

I HAD THIS THOUGHT A WHILE AGO of something I wanted to write--Rui and the pc find that he can, in fact, touch them through clothes. And Rui doesn't want much like one might think. They convince him to lie his head on their lap and take a break from housework. And while he naps they carelessly touch him and die.

But it doesn't end in tragedy. I'll write it out someday haha. BUT YEAH I REALLY HOPE THEY LEARN IT'S ACTUALLY OKAY FOR THEM TO TOUCH IF ONLY A LITTLE BIT IN THE OBSCUARY CHAPTER. . .and then he gets one real good hug in. That's all he really needs. That'll keep him going for a long time, I think--I can't imagine him wanting to ask too much, just. One good, solid hug. It's support for both of them to get through their curses.

It's important to remember the ring too! It protected them when it was Hera's Snakes, I feel like it's gonna protect them from death somehow. It's stuck on their finger after all, it wouldn't want its host to die!

[ureternalmajesty]

On My Boot || Sodo Ghoul

(Author's Note: I'm going to try to push out more parts for kinktober! I'm so sorry it's taking so long i have school and i work so i apologize that i haven't posted anything -Zel)

Warnings: Orgasm Denial, boot humping??, uses of the names whore and slut, light slapping, cum eating, not proofread at all

"Please Sodo!" You whimpered as he pulled out of your pussy that was now clenching around nothing. "No firefly. I set rules and you only had to follow one and you broke it because you wanted to be a little whore." His voice was soft but held some annoyance. His now dull fingernails trailing down your stomach towards your aching cunt. Fingers dipping between your folds feeling how wet you were from the onslaught attack hole gaping and drooling. 

"You cum when I say so got it firefly?" He questions raising an eyebrow at you as his fingers rubbed circles onto your clit. Moaning out at the pleasure you craved but his movements were slow. "Please Sodo." Whimpering out a plea for him to go faster as you try to grind down onto his fingers. Shaking his head he pulled his hand back a frustrated whine leaving your mouth as you glared at your boyfriend. "Take what I give you or don't cum at all simply as that firefly." He quickly quipped before you could even open your mouth. 

Sliding to the edge of the bed pants still down by his thighs. "Think you can be a good girl for me?" Eyes raking over your body that glistened in a light sheen of sweat and saliva. Quickly nodding your head. "Fuck yourself on my boot." He spat pinhing the inside of your thigh as you quickly scramble and sat your aching pussy on his shiny boot your face smushed against his leg as you grind against the toe of his boot. 

Whines and moans slip out of your mouth as you grind against his boot. Eyes looking up at Sodo eyes almost rolling to the back of your head at the sight in front of him. In his hand was his leaking cock as he worked his dick at the same rhythm of you grinding against his boot.  “Please please please Sodo let me cum. I won’t touch myself without your permission again.” You pleaded as your orgasm neared. 

“Cum on my boot or don’t cum at all.” With a slight move of his foot and your grinding your hand dug into his thigh as you both moan out as you covered his boot in cum and Sodo covers his hand in cum. 

Slapping the side of your face lightly to get your attention he looks at you with a tiny smirk. “Here lick it clean.” You tilt your head up and bring your forked tongue out and lick the cum off his hand taking your time around most of his fingers making him groan. “Oh you have no idea what you do to me.”

I'm sorry that this is short y'all

[undead-merman]

Hush (VTM OC) flirting with GN-Reader SFW...ish

This was requested from a player of a VTM game I run: "I never got to see Hush being a nasty flirt. 🥺 Please oh blessed DM"

Hush is not a good person and uses his flirting to get what he wants. The coterie ended up killing him before he could flirt much with anyone, but they fell in love instantly. They fall in love with the shittiest people, I swear. Anyway, he's a hunter who works for the Second Inquisition and is a revenant. That's all. 

Human

He is human, but dealing with all things supernatural has made him tired of mortals. Sure, he works to protect the human race, but they’re so boring and dull.

Mortals have to be pretty extraordinary to catch his attention. Weird, wild, insane, unstable. He likes those kinds of humans, because really it's the most interesting the kind has to offer. Not to mention that even with the most dangerous humans, he’s always in control because he’s much stronger than them.

He enjoys seeing their faces twist. Seeing them react to the more unhinged flirting he normally does. He has a natural skill of picking up things people are insecure about and using them in his teasing. “Did you get a crooked nose from letting your partner sit on your face? Can I take a ride?” was one of his prouder ones.

Blankbody

Blank bodies are what his organization calls them, dead creatures that don’t show any life signs. But despite how much they’ve ruined his life, he can’t stop seeking them out. Particularly the blood that taints, ‘clan’ Nosferatu. Every single one of them is horrifically unique, they can range from slightly malformed to downright monstrous.

He’s run into a few of them. His blood attracts the vampires and as clever as they think they might be, they aren’t. Sure they have little tricks offered to them by their blood, but they’ve gotten cocky.

There's a few groups of these types of vamps. His favorite are the ones that used to be beautiful but were cursed with the change without consent. They live a life full of nothing but misery. So he likes to butter them up. Make them feel good. Remind them of what they used to be.

He knows some are bitter, sensitive, or downright hostile. So he employs the personality flirting. He strokes their ego, telling them how smart they are, how he adores intelligence. He sits nice and close as he looks over their shoulder and compliments them on whatever they’re doing. “You sure know a lot of people. I guess I'm lucky to have your attention, huh?” or “You sure know a lot. You like secrets? Me and you could have a few if you want.”

Once they lower their guard down he's all over them. Younger blank bodies still crave human connection. So he latches onto that with claws and fangs. They still like warmth and he's willing to offer them as much as they like.

Lycanthrope

He's a beast tamer. His mother before him, his grandmother, and every woman as far back as they can remember. Subjugating beasts to fight for them. Mostly it was wild beasts that were ghouls, very rarely other beasts. He happened to pin down a werewolf.

Lycanthropes are odd beasts. He understands their fight, yadda yadda, all he cares about is how big, powerful, and intimidating they can be. He fucking loves dominating powerful creatures. His one pet, he enjoys collaring and yanking around as it drools and begs for a kill.

But other Lycanthropes are more stable, he enjoys watching them fight their fight, gnashing their teeth at the same prey he's hunting. Some of them can be so enchantingly brutal.

He's very slow in his approach. Making obvious signs, but keeping it subtle. Eyes tracing over their form, eyes half lidded and tongue gliding over his gently parted lips.

Despite what his bloodline is, he finds himself respecting the beasts more than anything. He treasures the hunt.

He'll whisper sweet nothings before gripping their hands and licking the shell of their ears, telling them he wants nothing more than to stake his claim to them. Ride them where they’re standing.

He adores the back and forth with them. Teasing movements just brushing against sensitive spots before leaving and wishing them well before repeating the next night until they want him and only him.

Maybe he'll dominate them, maybe he won't. It's simply the mood he's in when they finally pounce, and he’s always ready for when they do.

[aweisz]

⭐ < Oh hey, what's this? I have to admit, i haven't been quite myself today and i'm simply spilling whatever is on my mind at 3am, hope you don't mind

Seeing your stuff constantly showing up on my dash [be it art, reblogs, shitposts or thoughts] makes me so happy, you have no idea. Your ghouls, ghenbys and ghoulies live in my head rent free and i'm so grateful for that delicious bit of worship that you put into each and every bit of your work. I've been craving the t4t&body positive swag for months, and in my eyes you already are one of the fandom's most notable ambassadors when it comes to that, believe it or not. It speaks to me in such an intimate way-

Don't know why do i even feel that connection in the first place, but as i already said not once, but many times, i wanna study your gigantic brain under a microscope, memorize all of your behaviour patterns and personality quirks because having you as a mutual and a friend really is a bliss and i want this to last

Bro you literally rolled a nat twenty charisma, i would bark for you if you even care

Anyway i'm just happy to be there to witness your flex.

WOAH OKAY OKAY (<- totally not tearing up because of this)

didn't need to hide behind anon tho 👀👀 (but i think i know who you are. hope you're doing better today <3)

im sooooo glad that my art speaks to you ughhh 😭😭 i wouldn't call myself in any way notable within the fandom but im honoured you think so

[undyingghoul]

I need to get this out of my head so have a spicy blurb of some Mountain/Dew because I am losing my mind over this pairing-

Dewdrop circled around Mountain, looking down at him with his head held high and a smirk gracing his lips. "You look so beautiful, sweetheart," Dewdrop cooed as he came to a stop before Mountain and crouched down, resting his arms on his knees. Mountain lifted his eyes to look at Dewdrop. "Are you my pretty boy?" Dewdrop asked. Mountain nodded and Dewdrop's eyebrows furrowed. "Words." "Y-Yes. I'm your pretty boy." Dewdrop waited and Mountain felt himself twitch in his pants. "I'm your pretty boy, sir." Dewdrop smiled and rose to his feet again. "Such a good boy for me, aren't you now?" Mountain let out a small chuff at the praise, wanting so badly to touch himself and get what he needed, what he craved, so desperately. The earth Ghoul's eyes watched Dewdrop circle him before Dewdrop grabbed a fistful of Mountain's hair and pulled him up roughly. The action caused a moan to rip from Mountain's mouth, tail shivering behind him as he let out a broken sob while tears fell down his cheeks. "You like it when I'm rough, don't you big boy?" Dewdrop grinned and let go of Mountain's hair before pushing him forward toward the bed. Mountain didn't care that he nearly tripped from the push, he quickly regained his balance and sat on the bed. Dewdrop was standing between his legs, pushing them further apart with the tip of his boot and leaning in. "Undress. Now." The earth Ghoul quickly removed his clothes from his body and tossed them aside. He kicked his boots off to the side to make room for Dewdrop and awaited his next command eagerly. Dewdrop gently grabbed Mountain's chin and pressed a sweet, gentle kiss to his lips. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, my sweet flame. I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good tonight," Dewdrop purred as he pulled back from the kiss. Mountain felt his stomach flip with arousal and excitement. "Please, ruin me Dewdrop. I want you to ruin me- I need you to ruin me-" Dewdrop smirked and chuckled darkly, pressing one last kiss to Mountain's lips before letting go of his chin and leaning away. "Oh, I promise you that you will be ruined, Mountain. You can count on it."

[crossovernonshipstournament]

Propaganda

Nightcrawler and Nightwing:

I'm not saying all circus kids know each other, but these two do. Dick's circus was doing a tour of Europe and met Kurt's circus and they traveled together for a while. Dick and Kurt bonded and became pen pals. Kurt's circus was in America when the Grayson's took their infamous dive and he comforted Dick afterward. He also teleported Dick into the trunk of the Batmobile and Bruce didn't find out until he got to the Cave. That's the real reason Dick became Robin. Batman and Robin were in Europe for a mission and Dick went to see Kurt's circus. He saw his friend was all drugged up and staged a rescue. Thus began the long standing tradition of Batman dropping mutant's off at Xavier's. Dick and Kurt still write. Two blue boys who spread happiness and joy and are freaking terrified when ticked.

Matsuri and Ainosuke:

So they're both /very/ closeted flamboyant gay men in powerful houses that could make them disappear any day if they ever found that out. Both were/are being set up for arranged political marriage. Ainosuke is a politician, very into infrastructure for the youth and the environment. His father was also a very renowned politician and he basically took his place in the party after his death. Said father was a piece of shit. Ainosuke appears very clean on himself, the perfect boy. However, hidden from everyone, he's a skating god, dressing as a matador named "Adam" and skating down mountains, with a cigarette in his mouth (it cannot be made public he smokes). In Tokyo Ghoul, Matsuri is the heir to the CCG, basically cops that fight against ghouls. However, the family leading it, the Washuu, are actually ghouls! Matsuri is very emotionally restrained, and despite his actual personality being more extravagant, he always only show other his cold, ruthless, exterior when there is anyone around. His true self only comes out when he's alone. Unlike Ainosuke, Matsuri really loved his father. Said father's murder destroyed him thoroughly, making it the first time we readers saw Matsuri's emotions. Now another funny more common point the two have: they both have someone considered to be their human dog. Their closest subordinate, Tadashi for Ainosuke, which fully assumes his position as dog and even seeks it out - and Urie Kuki for Matsuri, who only proclaimed to be his dog in order to be closer to power. Fun fact, both Tadashi and Urie have a mole under their eyes, never express what they actually feel, and rarely ever talk. Ainosuke is def a Dom, it's actual canon. Matsuri is very much coded so. (Matsuri's in love with Urie btw bc he craves actual loyalty and friendship. He sees himself in Urie, too (who's also in an unrequited love with his colleague and very much gay and closeted)) Now my crossover started as a joke. Despite Ainosuke being from Okinawa and Matsuri from Tokyo, I definitely thought they would could have met in Tokyo given Ainosuke's profession. I thought "oh wouldn't it be fun if they meet at an event and their gaydars go absolutely bonkers" and off my brain went. Meeting at an event in Tokyo, they recognize themselves in the other. For the first time in the evening, Ainosuke's smile is true. Matsuri's hands shake slightly but no one takes notice of it. They meet again few times. With time, they grow closer and as they know each other better, both on a personal level and political one (but especially that one), they decide to ally politically, as they both long for a life that's more free, where they can be who they actually are (both in the sexuality aspect and the ghoul aspect for Matsuri - though Ainosuke wouldn't know about that as it's very much illegal to be a ghoul) I've also entertained the idea of making them meet sometime in a dungeon or a gay bar or club but I ultimately never did anything with it as Ainosuke wouldn't go to bars or clubs and Matsuri can't eat human food in the first place. I kinda want to do something with the BDSM dungeon but I haven't researched that enough yet haha There's also the fact that Ainosuke has red eyes which is a features ghouls have in TG. Now Matsuri would know right off that he's human as ghouls can recognize themselves by smell, but I love the thought of Ainosuke being suspected of being a ghoul and investigated for it. Ainosuke would be very supportive of ghouls as he'd see their struggles as an oppressed minority that have to suppress their true selves in order not to be killed. Yeah. They are my favorite guys. I relate a lot to them as I also grew up in a strict family not accepting of queerness and well. If I don't get to meet them well at least they both can have each other as friends!

[i-fondued]

Idk if you’re familiar with the HC that ghouls build nests, but imagine Swiss making a cozy little nest in the papal suite, or where she’s staying, for Sister while she’s pregnant because his little ghoul brain says “Pregnant mate, must PROTECT, and FEED, and KEEP WARM!” And he barely lets her out of the nest unless she needs to pee, and he like even brings her meals and snacks and stuff 🥺. Also him bringing little toys and baby clothes into the nest once the baby(s) born! He growls and hisses when anyone gets near the nest; he accepts Copia and Terzo being there (and Veritas if we’re going Copia x Terzo x Veritas x Swiss x Sis. Side note, we need to find a shorter ship name for that ASAP! I propose CTVSS, not only because it looks like you’re talking about CTVs and would confuse the outsiders, but is all of their initials lol. Feel free to suggest better ideas!), but only if they let him stay in the room to “supervise” (really he just doesn’t want to be left out of the action if it gets steamy 😏. I think he’s the jealous type!).

okayokayokay, i LOVE this headcannon so I'm adding on, under a read more because I took this and RAN with it. im so sorry for going off ahahaha

Like even if Sister was pregnant with Copia/Terzo's babies and not Swiss' kits, I feel like Swiss would be like OMG MY BONDED MASTER IS WITH CHILD SHE MUST DO NOTHING BUT NEST and she would be like yo Swiss chill the fuck out. She would appreciate it towards the end if she was pregnant with multiples, speaking from experience ahaha, mainly because if she drops something it is dead to her. She'd summon Swiss just to pick up a scroll she dropped in the library or a fork in the dining room. This would 100% extend to when Swiss feels her desire for any craving (my bff cried over a panera sandwich when she was pregnant; i ugly sobbed because i wanted my mom's homemade cooking but it was 2020 and COVID was at its height and we didn't know how it effected pregnant women yet so we had to stay away from each other to be safe) he would just appear with whatever in hand and poof off. Terzo would be like yo stop stealing my bonus points!!

Once the baby is born? Oh my lord the three men in her life would be like rabid with each other no matter who's baby it was. Like throwing elbows to hold this baby because it is the extension of the person they care for/love the most in the whole world. Sister would 100% find Terzo rocking and singing at their baby, Copia would always have the baby with him reading when they couldn't sleep, and Swiss would curl up with the baby in the crib knowing their purring soothed them to sleep.

Now do I think Swiss would be an absolute menace if it was his kits? The Clergy would contemplate just moving Swiss and Sister into their own home because if any other male (besides Copia, Terzo, and/or Veritas if were going that route) in the building looked at her for too long he would absolutely tear his mask off and go full feral ghoul. If we use the current era ghouls in this line of thought, Dew does this to rile him up till Aether swears he's going to kick his ass with his guitar. Swiss and Sister would be locked in their rooms till the bab(ies) are like 3 months and Swiss natural protective instinct settles back down and then they could introduce the babies properly to everyone.

Now if we're going with the CTVSS angle, this is how my brain pictures it. Copia, Terzo and Swiss are excited; Veritas is mildly terrified of children and therefor faints when she tells them that she's pregnant. Veritas is also very anxious through the whole pregnancy, to the point of being distant. Sister would have to coax him out of his mind a bit before he'd warm up to the idea of a child that he would call his own. Even after the baby is born and confirmed to be his and his alone, Veritas is skittish with them. They are so small and delicate, how could he care for them without breaking them? Without hurting them like those in his past? He is helpful in other ways that are easier for him; washing bottles, gathering all the extra baby laundry, making sure Mom and the other dads are fed and sleeping when they can. But actual day to day baby care? Not unless he is the only one and even then sometimes he calls for Swiss who comes only because he can sense the terror rolling off Veritas despite not being his bonded ghoul.

It isn't till the first night where Terzo, Copia and Swiss are on the road (no time off for the Ghost Project Dads when the babies isn't theirs per Imperator that stone cold bitch lol) that he really bonds with the baby. Sister is sleeping and the baby wakes up, he feels guilty and decides to check on the child himself. In the dimly lit bedroom, bassinet at the foot of the bed, he take his child and starts to cry when the baby snuggles into his chest with a quiet warbled cry. After that? Veritas cannot and will not share that baby with anyone else; in fact he turns into such a baby hog so much that Copia, Terzo, and Swiss jump her the minute they get home and demand they have another.