#spoilers: it was not a quick and easy adventure

[pianokantzart]

In the super mario rpg remake did they seriously change luigi's star wish? The tropes page says it was changed to something "bitter" wth

They did change Luigi's star wish, but I don't think "bitter" is the right adjective. Here's the original:

Here's the remake:

Maybe you can see it as "bitter" if you look at it the right way? Like... maybe Luigi is bitter about being left out of the adventure? But it struck me more as "yearning" than bitter.

In the original wish (if read at surface level) Luigi just wants to be as skilled as his brother at their day job, while in the remake he expresses a direct desire to help Mario out.

But the remake has another change! Specifically when Mario is pretending to be a statue to sneak into Nimbus Castle:

The original line did not reference Luigi at all, and just poked fun at Mario's appearance and intelligence.

If I had to venture a guess... maybe Nintendo is trying to lean toward characterizing Mario and Luigi as a tight-knit team like in the RPG series or the movie, and wanted to add some dialogue to imply they still had that bond despite Mario being off on this brotherless adventure.

Wish they had properly explained what Luigi was doing during the entire fiasco though. Maybe he was busy organizing that end credits parade?

[chervbs]

undying devotion — a. ancunin

pairings: astarion ancunin x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: you have a very limited time to free everyone, including duke ravenguard, from the iron throne. It seems easy enough until you realize you may not make it out before gortash destroys the entire prison, and you along with it. and with your new but thriving relationship with your vampiric companion, you have more to lose than just your life.

warnings: angst, mega angst, main character death, spoilers for act 3 (specifically the iron throne quest), mentions of c*zador, resurrection, hurt/comfort, happy ending, maybe ooc astarion because I’m still getting used to writing these characters, lmk if I missed any!

a/n: hello my angels! I hope you all enjoy this short little angsty piece I came up with for everyones favorite vampire. anonymous requested some angst for astarion and I immediately thought of this moment that happened in my first playthrough of the game where the only person I couldn't get out of the iron throne was my tav. it was a scary moment until I remembered what my man withers was there for. the characters in the game don't actually have a reaction to tav not making it out so I came up with this. any feed back is greatly appreciated! <3

ao3 link

Of all the battles fought between the crash of the Nautiloid ship and now, the Iron Throne is proving to be potentially the most perilous.

The plan had seemed simple when you all waited for the submersible to dock the underwater prison. Get in, free as many prisoners as possible, and get out. Of course the creatures guarding the prison would be an obstacle, but your party had defeated a plethora of foes before, how difficult could this mission be?

You all shared the sentiment, until the projection of Lord Enver Gortash had made an appearance.

“Aren’t you the intrepid little adventurer?” The man’s smug voice startled everyone aboard, shoulders growing tense and glares growing fierce. “Digging and diving where you don’t belong. And I thought we were friends.”

Astarion watched as you squared your shoulders, looking the projection right in the eyes. “Fuck you, Gortash.” The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, but it didn’t last.

Gortash made it clear that if you continued on your quest, he would destroy the Iron Throne, and you all with it.

You had glanced back, communicating with Astarion, Halsin, and Karlach silently. Each of you wonder if this is worth the stakes. Worth all of the lives that could be lost if you failed. Then you looked at your captain, Redhammer the Deviser, and nodded for him to dock the ship.

“That was a mistake.” Gortash scowled. “When the corpses start to wash up on the shore, remember–you could have prevented all of this.”

There wasn’t much time after you docked to accomplish what you came for, so the four of you climbed the ladder with swiftness. The moment you stepped down, your tadpole began to wriggle as a familiar voice spoke to you.

“Halt. You must act with haste. Duke Ravenguard is held within these walls. He must be extracted.” It was unmistakably Omeluum, the mindflayer you’d made friends with in the Underdark.

You knew there was no time for questions. “Tell me what to do.”

“Duke Ravenguard is held in the security wing. Be careful, there are many hazards. This structure is collapsing. Act with speed, act with efficiency. Good luck.”

Swords, arrows and spells were used to get you all through the prison with haste. The Sahugin guards were inconvenient, but not the priority. You only attacked when they were in your way, and dodged them the rest of the time.

Astarion and Halsin were able to make it to Duke Ravenguard, freeing and healing him while also taking down the obstacles sent by Mizora. The security was the closest to the center of the ship and the two men made quick work of the guards still lingering there.

You and Karlach had each taken separate wings, hoping to free as many people as you could. Karlach freed the few prisoners in her wing before she came across Omeluum. Once he was freed, he was able to teleport the two of them back onto the submersible.

It was only as you fought your way through yours that you regretted not bringing someone else with you. The wing you took held the most prisoners and it seemed as if every guard your companions didn’t defeat decided to flock to the area.

Time was running out and you knew it. Your tadpole wriggled again.

“You must return. The prison will be destroyed any moment now.” Omeluum warned. His voice was monotone as any other mind flayer, but you could sense veiled concern.

You took one last look at the crowd of Sahugin in front of you, your heart pounding in your chest. You lacked enough energy to be able to misty step back to the entrance, and there was no time to look for a useful scroll.

“Did everyone make it on board?” You asked, slashing the guards in front of you.

“Indeed.”

You sighed, tears welling. “Then tell them I’m sorry.”

Astarion was the last to climb aboard the submersible after Halsin. Water sprayed onto the platform as the structure began to give way. Halsin reached down to grab his forearms, pulling him the rest of the way. He’d just barely began to search for you within the ship when Karlach spoke up.

“Where’s Tav?” She asked shakily, as if she had already realized the answer.

Astarion’s eyes widened, as did everyone’s. “No.” He whispered, darting over to the window.

There was a split second before the explosion, the force of it rumbling within the water. “No!” He cried, knees buckling as he collapsed.

Karlach slapped a hand over her mouth, tears already falling from her eyes like a waterfall. Halsin bowed his head, sad eyes closing as Astarion lets out a heart wrenching scream.

It didn’t matter to him that his companions had never seen him so distraught, not even after he’d delivered the killing blow to Cazador. No, this pain was entirely different.

This pain was like having his heart ripped out, then his soul extracted then his body mutilated. Every part of him ached in a way he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. Though it shouldn’t surprise him. In the time since meeting, you’d taught him many things about himself. And even in death it seems he’s still learning from you.

Astarion was more silent than Karlach and Halsin had ever seen him. As they received their reward from the Wavemother and talked to Duke Ravenguard, Astarion dragged behind them, silent tears escaping consistently.

Only once they reached camp did Astarion seem to return to his mind, paying no attention to the surprised and concerned stares from everyone else. He was only focused on storming over to the camps undead resident.

Withers did not looked fazed nor surprised by the vampires rage, closing the tome he had been focused on the staring blankly.

“Bring them back.” He demanded, voice thick with emotion. “Bring Tav back.”

Astarion faintly heard a few gasps from the crowd that had gathered behind him, the rest of the party hearing of your death for the first time.

The creatures hollow, echoed voice responded. “There is a cost to do so.”

Astarion’s jaw clenched. “What is it?”

“A matter of coin.” Withers replied simply.

A pale hand reached back into his travel pack to pull out the pouch of coin Astarion had collected throughout your travels. He shoved it against the undead’s chest. “Here!” He snarled. “Take it! Take all the coin we have, I don’t care how much it takes.”

Withers calmly opened the pouch, peaking inside. “That won’t be necessary. This is more than enough.” He said, dropping the pouch to the ground. “I recommend keeping thy distance for a moment.”

Everybody took a step back besides Astarion, only until Karlach placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and pulled.

Withers lifted a bony hand, speaking his words like a prayer. “By doom and dusk, I strike thy name from the archives. Rise!”

There was a brief flash of light that had everyone shielding their eyes. In a matter of seconds, you appeared, stumbling like you’d been thrown back on earth. Which, to your credit, is what it felt like.

Your breaths were quick and heavy as they had been in your final moments, and you patted your body to ensure you really were alive.

There wasn’t much time for you to linger in your thoughts before you were essentially tackled, toned arms coming around you in a crushing embrace. As you heard the sound of weeping, you registered that it was your love who had lunged at you.

A choked sound escaped your lips before you could even realize you yourself had started to cry, arms wrapping around Astarion’s torso.

Through your foggy eyes, you could faintly see your other companions standing a few feet away, some wiping tears and others smiling somberly at you. But they were far from your mind at the moment.

You could only focus on the man in your arms, the both of you collapsing to the ground. “My love.” He whimpered out, surely leaving fingernail markings with how hard he was gripping you. “My little love, I thought you gone for good.”

A watery chuckle escaped, one of your hands coming to lace within the white curls of his hair. “I’m so sorry, Star. Never. I could never leave you.” You sobbed.

His embraced loosened, hands traveling to your face and pulling your forehead against his. His crimson gazed peered into yours, full of desperation. As if he would never be able to look into them again.

“I have never known pain,” He whispered to you hoarsely. “Like what I felt when that wretched place exploded.”

Your lips quivered with another onslaught of emotions. You placed your own palms against his cheeks, thumbs stroking the smooth, alabaster skin. “I never would have made it on time.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

He shook his head lightly, removing his forehead and replacing it with his lips instead. He pressed a kiss there, then to your cheek, and then a final one to your lips, lingering again as if it would be the last kiss you would ever share. You only separated once oxygen became a concern.

“The others are waiting.” You sniffed, though you made no move to leave his side.

“Let them.” Astarion said, a small, relieved grin growing on his face. And you did.

The rest of the world could wait until the end of time for you to part from your Star.”

[messysketchyobeyme]

How to Woo a Human: Chapter 2

[Chapter 1], [Chapter 2]

Satan/Reader

(Nightbringer Spoilers)

Summary:

"Different humans have different love languages. Taking advantage of a human’s love language will allow you to gain their trust, which can be used to manipulate them easier."

As long as Satan ignored the parts about deception and manipulation and focused on the affection part, he was certain he could change himself into someone who would be worthy of love.

He would make sure of it.

—

Satan highlighted (with a magic disappearing highlighter; he would never defile a book) the first love language he saw: words of affirmation.

Reading the passage over, it seemed like he just had to compliment you. That was simple enough. There were so many things Satan could compliment you about.

You were kind, brave, funny, adventurous, and smart. He adored the way your nose would wrinkle whenever you were trying to quell your reaction to a strange smell or to whatever his ludicrous brothers were doing at the moment. He loved how you were quick on your feet, always coming up with a plan to get them out of any situation you guys found yourselves in. He admired your sorcery skills. He had never met anyone who could make Lucifer of all demons stumble like that. 

Honestly, Satan could go on and on about you.

And that was the problem. Satan couldn’t ramble on like a fool in front of you. What would you think? That he was as brainless and dim-witted as Mammon? No. He had to plan this out carefully, lest you think less of him.

Satan took out a pencil and notepad and jotted down some more of your attributes. While it was easy to get the broad strokes of your personality on paper, Satan found himself focusing on the minute details.

The way you would scrunch your eyebrows whenever you were concentrating on something, how you would go slightly cross-eyed from boredom whenever Lucifer lectured you, or the way you’d bite your lips when you were excited but wanted to hide it.

Skimming over what he had written down, Satan realized that he was starting to sound deranged. What was he supposed to do with these notes? Waltz up to you and say he likes the way your eyebrows wriggle? 

No, no, no, no. This was stupid. What was the first thing he wrote about you? You were kind?

Yeah, that could work. He could compliment your thoughtfulness. That was a normal thing to say to someone. 

Satan scribbled some more words of endearment on a set of index cards and stuffed them up his sleeves. They were just for reference. That was all.

Wiping off his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants, Satan stood up and left his bedroom. Leviathan had invited you to the House of Lamentation to play some games. That gave him the perfect time to strike. 

He stepped up to Leviathan’s door and placed his ear against it. Muffled noises. Hm.

Satan knocked on the door.

The noises stopped. Then, muffled whispers. Eventually, they stopped and someone opened the door.

“Satan? What are ya doin’ here?” Mammon asked. His voice was always a little too loud for Satan’s liking.

Satan peered behind Mammon. Leviathan and you were sitting across from each other with a board game lying between you two. Leviathan was too busy staring at the game and presumably strategizing to notice him. You smiled at Satan and waved.

Satan waved back. “I want to play, uhh…” He snuck another quick look behind Mammon. “Devilopoly,” he concluded after seeing the game pieces. 

That seemed to get Leviathan’s attention. “No!” Satan shriveled back while Leviathan tossed his hands up to explain. “No, I mean, I want you to play with us, but I’ve been doing so well!” He picked up his play money, which, to his credit, was quite a bit. “I managed to buy all of the big properties!”

“Oh, be quiet, Levi. Let Satan play. We can start over,” you said, clearing the board.

“You only want to start over because you’re in jail!” Leviathan pouted.

You shrugged impishly. Mammon shook his head and opened the door wider. “C’mon Satan. We could always use another player.”

“Thank you,” Satan said quietly before stepping inside.

“So, how much are ya willin’ to bet? We can start from a hundred Grimm and go from there.”

Never mind. Satan felt foolish to have even glanced in that sorry excuse of a demon’s direction.

“Ignore him, Satan. We’re not doing bets,” you said, patting the empty space next to you. “Come here and sit. You can choose between the shoe, the racket, or the demon horns.”

Satan chose the shoe.

Leviathan exhaled loudly through his nose, while Mammon sat down next to him. “Seriously, Levi? What are ya? Five?”

“Be quiet, Mammon.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. You handed the dice to Satan. “Here, you can go first.”

As he held out his hand, Satan sneakily peaked at one of the index cards hidden under his sleeve. He forced himself to make eye contact with you before saying, “Thank you. It was nice of you to let me go first.” Satan cringed at how robotic he sounded.

You gave him a look but didn’t dwell on it. “You’re welcome.”

Satan rolled the dice before throwing it on the board. Each die bounced once before flying off into two different directions.

Mammon yelped. “Hey, man, no need to be so aggressive with it!”

You pinched Mammon’s side, causing him to yelp, again. “Be nice, okay?” 

Satan’s face burned uncomfortably. He didn’t think he threw them that hard.

While Mammon busied himself with aggressive nodding, Leviathan stood up and peered at the dice. “Six,” he said before scooping them up and bringing them back to Satan.

Satan moved six spots, landing on the one with an image of the Akuber logo on it. “I’ll buy it,” he said, handing over his fake cash to you, the banker. He also gave the dice to you. He wanted an ample amount of opportunities to compliment you.

“Thanks, Satan.” You quickly rolled the dice and tossed it on the board. Eight. You began moving your piece, landing on a Chance spot. Picking up the card, you quirked up your lip but that was all your expression betrayed. You placed the card face down next to you. 

Satan tried to casually place his hand on his arm. He felt the index cards through his sleeve. “That was…” His voice started off too quiet, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “That was a smart play. You’re good at this game.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Well, it was mainly just luck.”

Dammit. Not even a thank you this time.

Your attention was quickly captured by Mammon. It was his turn now, and he was shaking the dice in his cupped hands with all of his might. Mammon’s eyes were squeezed shut, and he was muttering “Boxcars…boxcars…” under his breath. He ended up rolling snake eyes.

Satan scratched at his knee. What was he doing wrong? He had already paid you two compliments, but you were no closer to falling for him than before. In fact, you seemed to be a little distant. Was Satan really that unlovable?

Gah, he was beginning to sound like Leviathan. That was disgusting in of itself.

The game continued on with Satan peppering you with the occasional complement. Each time, you would chuckle awkwardly or give him a half hearted thanks. Even Leviathan and Mammon were beginning to cast wary looks in his direction. Satan’s chest felt tight. 

What was he doing? Why would Satan ever think a couple of compliments would ever win your heart? Or convince you that he wasn’t the grotesque monster he feared he was? Satan swallowed thickly. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t belong here. He needed to—

Something melodious filled the air, and Satan perked his head up to see you laughing. You were clutching your chest as you tried to catch your breath. “I–I can’t believe this is your…your third time going to jail!” you managed to choke out. “What are the odds?”

Leviathan scowled, his arms crossed. “Shut up! It’s not funny!” 

You tossed your head back slightly as you continued to giggle at Leviathan’s misfortune. The blue overhead lights caught your eyelashes just so, causing the tiny droplets of tears that clung to them to sparkle. Your eyebrows scrunched together the same way they would whenever you would focus on something. Satan made a mental note to update his list. 

Your grin stretched across your face, and it seemed to have lit up the entire room. At the very least, it ignited a fire deep within Satan’s very core. Now, his face was heating up for an entirely different reason. He didn’t understand how one human could look so captivating. You were perfect—wonderful inside and out. 

In a daze, Satan managed to breathe out a quiet, “You have a beautiful smile.”

You stopped laughing and turned to look at him with a wide-eyed stare. Your cheeks were still glowy, and your eyes were slightly dewy. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, but they quelled down once he noticed your expression. 

Satan had a hard time pinning it down. It didn’t seem unpleasant, per se, but it wasn’t looking all too positive, either. Did he say something wrong? A hasty apology was about to spill out of him when you began to speak.

“Uh, thank you, Satan,” you said, looking away. You bit your lip while staring at the gamer controller piece that was currently in the jail spot on the board. “I, ah, appreciate it. Truly.” A tiny, wobbly smile managed to sneak its way onto your face.

If Satan didn’t know better, he would have said you looked bashful. Or flustered. Or…

Satan blinked. 

Oh.

That one worked. 

Now, the butterflies seemed to have increased tenfold. The buzzing sensation throughout his body was becoming too much to bear. He couldn’t take this. 

Satan leapt up. “This game is boring,” he said quickly, “I don’t want to play anymore.” With that, Satan strode over to Leviathan’s door and ignored all three of your protests before leaving the room.

Satan made sure to slam Leviathan’s door shut before pressing himself to the wall. He slowly slid down to the floor and pressed his forehead against his knees. He silently begged his heart to slow down, but it wasn’t working.

All Satan did was say that your smile looked nice. Why did you react like…like that? Why were you acting like he had gotten on one knee and asked you to marry him right then and there? You were always so composed, and he had never seen you flustered before in his (admittedly short) life. So, why did that one teensy tiny compliment get such a big reaction out of you?

The door next to Satan creaked open, and he glanced up to see you smiling down at him.

“Hey, Satan,” you said, “Are you sure you don’t want to keep playing?” 

“I’m sure,” he mumbled against his hand.

“Oh, okay. Just let us know if you want to join in, again, alright?”

“I will,” he said.

You flashed him that awful, wonderful grin of yours. “Perfect.” You momentarily disappeared behind Leviathan’s door before peaking your head out. “By the way, I thought it was cute how you wrote…notes about me.” With a flick of your wrist, you revealed an index card—Satan’s index card—in between your index and forefinger. “You know, if you think my eyebrows are charming, you could have just told me.”

Satan scrambled up to his feet and snatched his index card from you. He stuffed it in his back pocket while swearing under his breath. “How did you—”

“It fell out of your sleeve when you left.” You leaned in closer. “Don’t worry. I didn’t let Levi or Mammon read it.”

Satan wanted to die. He managed to stutter out something that could have been akin to a ‘thanks,’ but he knew his words were too twisted around to be understood properly.

You let out a soft giggle before catching Satan’s eye. He stopped breathing for a moment. “Bye, Satan,” you said before closing Leviathan’s door.

Ugh. Satan hid his face in his hands. It was truly unfortunate he was utterly infatuated with you.

[pursuitseternal]

“Dexterity Check First, My Sweet:” finger-licking smut 🔥with Spawn!Astarion for “Bites in the Night” part 9

Astarion x f!reader | E | 3K of finger fucking licking smut

Summary: Flaming Fist soldiers on your heels, caught red-handed trying to steal some food, and your Vampire Rogue has one place in mind for you to hide: Sharess’ Caress. Where better to spend an hour laying low together than a pleasure house… where he can tutor you on the dexterity skills that got you into this mess

CW: Vaginal fingering, finger licking, breast play, anal fingering, generally arrogant Spawn Astarion, Act 3 spoilers if you squint maybe…

Ao3 link | Series on Ao3 | Masterlist

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“Can’t you run any faster?” Astarion hisses at you, eyes narrowed as he glares over his shoulder, leading you down alley after alley in Baldur’s Gate. The clanking of armor still echoes behind you—the Flaming Fist still trailing.

And you, you’re hustling, but it’s harder given your wardrobe. “This was your idea,” you pant, aggravated in reply. “You said ‘Wear a dress for once, darling. No one will suspect us if you look decent for once…’”

His hand shoots out from the shadows, pulling you into a darkened doorway. His chest heaves, lock picks in hand. “I know what I said. It’s true, my sweet. You do look decent for once. It’s not my fault you can’t use those hands for anything subtle and smooth that isn’t my cock.”

He flashes a quick smirk your way before picking open the door you both press against. That smirk that melts your innards and makes you quiver instantaneously.

Turning, you keep an eye out for the soldiers who caught you stealing from the vendors. Of course after weeks in the Shadow-Cursed lands, food and gold were scarce. What little you still had only stretched so far in the City. So, you and your Rogue decided to take a… new course of action. One he swore was foolproof… easy… something he did a thousand times over hundreds of years… And he had insisted you look ‘decent’ in a dress for it.

Which was how you now find yourself squeezed against some alley door, panting, and afraid of being arrested as the soldiers who caught you nicking food from the stands close in.

“Hurry, Astarion,” you elbow him in the shoulder where he crouches beside you. “They’re coming.”

“Darling you can’t rush art,” he sneers in reply.

“It’s not art, it’s crime.”

“Maybe next time, you'll not get us caught then. Maybe you need some lessons on just how to expertly use those fingers…” he pauses, even as the clanking of armor draws even closer. He stands quickly, spinning you both, pinning you hard against the planes of the door as he crushes you against the wood. His mouth devours yours, your eyes filled with nothing but his pale skin and mussy, silver hair. Your every sense is consumed by his taste in your tongue, his scent in your nose, his wiry body bearing down, covering you completely.

That passion, that ardor steals your breath, lost in the sound of his breath in your mouth and the wet working of his lips, his tongue with yours.

So distracted you barely even notice the flurry of guards rush right past you until they have long passed. Barely noticed that he’s hidden you from their sight in his distraction. Kept you safe. Then he breaks, his devious smirk at your arousal only makes you pant harder. “You clever devil,” you rasp, trying to swallow. “Kept us hidden… and clearly you do enjoy this dress.”

“What would you do without me?” he taunts, reaching for the handle of the door, letting it creak open behind your back. “They’ll be back, we need to lay low for an hour or two…” that wicked gleam in his eyes only darkens. “How fortunate that we can hide here…”

You turn, taking a step inside the door. Instantly, you recognize it from your adventures so far. The scent of perfumes and sweat, of alluring flowers and dirty bodies all at once. Thick crimson curtains draped over every wall and door, ready to soften the cries of orgasm and the sounds of sex.

Sharess’ Caress.

“What better place to hide than a pleasure house?” he gives you that feline grin that more than announces his intentions for how to pass an hour or two. “Oh, what a shame we will have to hide away… just the two of us… away from everyone else back at camp…”

“Did I call you clever?” you roll your eyes, despite the way your belly floods with heat. “I mean sly, cunning…”

“And very, very hungry,” he interjects, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you towards the stairs. “Starved practically…”

“How do you know where you’re going?” you hiss from behind.

“You forget so quickly these are my hunting grounds, my nocturnal domains. How fortunate you get me of my own free will during the daytime,” he quirks back at you over his shoulder as he turns down a hall and then another. “You’ve been dancing with a professional,” he smirks, breathing deeply as he draws to a sudden stop outside a door. “But you already knew that, my darling. Already experienced the fruits of my practice on the unworthy…”

“Gods,” you pant, “and you think me worthy?”

“Most worthy, my love,” he chuckles softly, turning the doorknob beside you. “Won’t you come and find out why it’s a pleasure house, my sweet?”

You smile, devious, “Emphasis on the… come?”

“I’m in such a good mood to be here with you, my darling, that even your unrefined wit won’t put me off or… soften… my regard for you,” he giggles, leading you behind the curtain that covers the entryway. Its fabric is thick, a dense sort of velvet, darker than blood.

You stumble into the dark, and instantly those hands… those strong, lithe, dancing hands, catch you. You hear so many other voices in the distance, a cacophony of moans and slaps and screams. You turn, looking for Astarion, an edge of… surprise in your heart. Surprise that warms quickly into a heady fear as he leers at you.

The soft light only makes every angle and cut of his face sharper, his skin almost lustrous, those hands leaving your grip to already begin to tear his tunic from over his head. Earth-shattering. Ruinous. He is beyond handsome.

And he’s yours.

“You can’t stop staring, darling…” he rasps, drawing closer in, closing in around you. The skin of his chest, the way every muscle and vein is familiar to you, it makes you force a swallow. “Not that I'm complaining, of course,” he gives that short burst of giggles to punctuate. “But we really… really must do something about those hands of yours.”

He catches them together in just one palm, his touch cool despite the growing heat that caresses your skin. “Strength doesn’t come from brute force all the time, slashing and twisting…” he breathes. You gasp, moaning suddenly as his other hand has already managed to somehow slink into the hitched hem of your skirt, his touch barely ghosting up your inner thigh. “You needn’t be so gruff and commanding all the time, darling,” he purrs. “Let your fingers find their own way, one by one in that merry dance…”

“Gods,” you groan, as indeed one by one they slip into your folds, sliding in so easily with how drenched you already are for him. He flashes that sideways grin down at you, eyes narrowed as he is savoring the way you shudder at his touch, at the way your mouth hangs open suddenly to feel him pleasuring you. “Please, more,” you sigh, arching back to find something to brace your body against. “I want more inside me, I want you inside me.”

“But I am, darling,” his grin only twists higher, “and this is my lesson for you, so you had better listen and learn.” His hold on your hands tightens, his thumb massaging over their backs, deftly and rhythmically stroking your taught muscles. His legs stride between yours, hips pressing hard against you, making you back until you smack the your knees on some soft furniture. But quicker than breath, he steadies you. Fingers slipping from your folds and your body to unbutton his breeches.

You don’t even need to look to know his cock stands at the ready, and you giggle as he presses it into your waist, so hard you feel its twitching through your gown. “Already?” you tease, feeling a blush sweeping over your cheeks and up your neck.

“Well, you’re going to need something to practice on…” His eyes gaze at you, glazed with desire, that crimson shine almost a bright red as the lights from the candles around you flicker and flame. “And, I will too,” he adds, voice thick in his throat as he takes the ribbons of your blouse in those long, lean fingers. “Something to play with, as an example of course…”

His breath is heavy, each inhale and exhale almost deafens you. He is close but refrains from brushing against you, nothing more than the way his fingers pull those thin laces of bodice, one by one.

Slowly. Painfully deliberate.

His gaze never wavers, doesn’t even have to look to know where to grip, where to touch. Until at last, the panes of your bodice split, your breasts achingly hard to feel the free air, the rush of his heavy breaths caressing them.

You try to catch his mouth, to bring him into a kiss, but he only shoves you back down to your heels. “Tch, tch,” he sucks his teeth at you, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “This isn’t a lesson for your mouth. Your tongue is already so good at sucking and swallowing, my pet.”

Oh, you shudder. His words alone push you to that precipice of need. Not to mention that constant washing sound of the pleasures around you. It makes you whimper to be denied.

“Shh,” he chuckles quietly, one long pointer finger on your lips to tap gently. “Think about how enjoyable it will be to put these skills into practice daily… nightly too…”

Your brow raises, mischief swirling in your belly as you quickly part your lips, drawing that finger between them to suck it hard.

His cock pulses against your belly, his mouth groaning loudly at the warmth and wet you swirl around it.

“Eager and naughty. You belong in this pleasure house, my love,” he growls. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit on the seat behind you, a settee you realize, covered in softest velvet. Your breathing grows rough, every inhale you make is filled with the perfumes of the house, masked heavily by that fresher scent of his skin.

Your mouth waters, his hands rucking up your skirts, clawing around your hips as he settles you on his thighs. He throws the skirts behind you, ensuring he has complete control, a perfect view of your soft-curled mound, your shaking thighs. But he leaves you aching, your pulse pounding as he can feel your folds soaking his skin and throbbing as you grieve the emptiness inside you.

His fingers seem to dance in the air as he reaches for your body, where your breasts hang so exposed. So easy for the taking. Fascinated, hypnotized by their dexterity, you watch as each of his fingers moves, of its own accord, each playing across your skin. His touch is delicate and deliberate.

The muscles of his hands clench, each movement visible as the candlelight caresses that masculine outline. Light warming his pale, pearl-like skin. Shadows following the ridges and trails the veins make over the backs of his hands, weaving gently up his arms.

You can’t resist, bringing your own touch to dance along those protruding blue lines. Mimicking the soft and commanding pressure he makes as he cradles your breasts, one in each hand, fingers twirling and plucking your nipples hardened to pebbles in his masterful touch. You can’t help it, can’t control it as the rhythm of his touch on your breasts alone sends those shivers of pleasure down your spine, your body under his thrall as climax pours through you. Hot and wild, you buck on the limited friction of his thighs, your cum coating that flawless, smooth skin.

And he giggles. With a little extra effort, he tweaks your nipples as you ride out the remaining waves. “Oh my sweet, see what skilled fingers alone can do?” he croons. His hips buck beneath your still-trembling thighs, making his cock jolt where it stands. Little trickles of his seed already leaking from that tight little slit. You want so badly to lick it clean, to quickly shove that hardness deep inside you to cool your burning lust. But you smile, taking it in your hands, not to be outdone by your arrogant, insufferable Rogue.

Plying that same silken yet commanding touch, you sweep a single finger up the trail of his precum, gathering it on your fingertip before slipping it in your mouth. Sucking it clean.

He groans, watching. His hands slide down your sides, holding your hips hard against his thighs. “What a good student you have become,” he praises in his honeyed tones.

You pull your finger from your pursed lips with a resounding pop. Licking the rest of those fingers one by one, you begin tracing just the soft pads of your fingers up and down his twitching shaft.

For hells take you if you weren’t about to stun him senseless with your fingers alone.

You keep your eyes on the motions you make, smiling harder each time his hips buck under your touch, cock twitching and jolting as you beat it in your grip. Maybe it’s the sounds that surround you, the wet slap of flesh, the moans of a hundred paying patrons, but your mind fills with a naughty idea.

Pausing, you clamber between his legs, pressing him wider with your knees. As he has done to you countless times.

“Just what are you doing, my sweet?”

You ignore the question, using a single hand to tug softly on the wrinkled silken skin of his balls. Gods, they feel tight and heavy in your palm already. Driving him closer to his own bursting release with each stroke you make.

“You’ll find out…” you grin innocently, meeting that flaming scarlet gaze of his. His tongue drags over his fangs, hunger lurking behind every clench of his body. The soft pads of your fingers slip further beneath him, following the hard seam of his erection until you brush the pert little hole of his ass.

Astarion hisses, arching his back as you press around it just a bit harder, circling it as he has done to everything on your body a million times.

“Darling…” he groans, raising his hips to let you in more. “Testing your dexterity on all of me, are you?”

You slip your touch inside, feeling him clench as you mimic the way he caresses you. The way he fucks you on those talented, eager fingers of his. You savor the way he growls, head thrown back against the velvet of the settee as you crook inside him deeper. For a moment, you forget all about his cock. Savoring the way you make him shake and quiver around your digits for once. But then, he clenches so hard around your finger deep in his ass, his cock ripples, thickening as you push him further towards the edge. He thrusts over and over into your other fist.

“Hells…” he pants, forcing his head up to meet your smile. “Where in gods names did you think to do that?”

You smile, so innocent and pouting and coy. “You’re not the only one who can read a book, Astarion…”

“Hgnf…” he grabs your wrists, the veins of his arms protruding even more as he flexes, pulling you down to collapse on his chest. “Lesson learned. Now I’ll claim my payment, it’s a brothel after all.”

No resistance is left in your body, too wet and hot and aching for anything other than letting that cool shaft of his cock to pierce deep inside you. And it does, sheathed so tightly in your cunt you cry, begging for more. Your scream could shake the walls, muffled only by those thick curtains.

“That’s right, my darling. Be loud, let them all hear you, hold nothing back like you do for me around the others,” he hisses low in the throat, hands tugging your dress apart all the more. All the better to let your breasts swing free with every unbridled buck of your body.

You groan, so loudly you’re sure you hear the curtains shaking.

And you do, as they pull back to open wide, the clatter of metal armor crashing through the soft slap of flesh. “Flaming Fist,” a cold voice startles you, anouncing. You gasp, clutching your bodice to hide the ample swell of your bosoms, burying your face against his chest as Astarion sits upright.

“What is the meaning of this,” he snaps in disgust and sneers in disdain, that commanding edge of his voice is dominating and cold. “I’ve paid good money for this, and you have no business to intrude on either my time or my pleasure.” He chastises, bracing his arms around you, curving you slightly around his side.

Hiding you.

“I’m sorry sir,” the soldier insists, far more timidly than before. “We’ve been trailing a thief we were tipped off today who would be pinching food stores from the markets today. We suspect she may be hiding here.”

“Get out or pay me the 500 gold I’ve already wasted by spending time speaking with you!” he bellows, gesturing roughly towards the door. “No one here but an angry, wealthy patron and his whore!”

That did it, sending them scattering and clattering as they shut the curtain firmly behind them.

You go still on his lap, a suspicious, scouring look on your face as you meet his arrogant, guilty eyes. “Tipped… off…”

His smirk curls wickedly to one side, shrugging demurely, a single hand splayed on his chest to feign innocence. “How else am I supposed to get you to accompany me here, say… Oh darling, I’d like to take you to a pleasure house so I can loudly fuck you away from prying eyes and listening ears?”

“You’d be surprised just how charismatic you might be if you checked, if you asked nicely…” you grind on his still throbbing cock, “…if you tried saying please.” You lean forward, pressing your hands on his chest to shove him back down. “Perhaps you could benefit from some lessons on asking nicely…”

That handsome face quirks, twisting harder as he smiles at you. “Dexterity check first, my sweet,” he purrs and crooks his finger against your clit. Reminding you just why you’re here.

[queers-gambit]

Bloodhounds

prompt: you and your husband have a different kind of foreplay that include disguises, sneaking out of the castle, and sometimes, fucking in an alleyway... Or two.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x highborn!female!reader no specified House

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.7k+

note: also NO physical description of skin, hair, but height IS mentioned inna way and weight IS insinuated because - let's face it - fucking against a wall ain't easy!! this is a STAND ALONE.

warnings: poor excuse for smut, explicit / descriptive language, i guess this is porn with a plot?? (surprise!) there's cursing, Cherry needs to get laid ASAP, stop giving her internet access!! half-edited, author mildly gave up. ✅ spoiler free

"My Lady, how go your studies? Aemond says you're making grand progress," Alicent smiled, leaning back in her high-back chair with a goblet of wine in her always-tight manicured grip.

"Oh," you quickly swallowed the bit of food in your mouth, perfectly trained to take small bites for moments such as these - but also, because it was 'unladylike' to eat with fuller cheeks. With a quick dab of the cloth napkin left on your lap, you nodded at her, "My Lord husband likes to exaggerate. Studies are going well enough, My Queen, but surely, I've much farther to go."

She hummed in contemplation, "From what I've heard, you're planning a trip to Pentos?"

Ah, so this is the reason she wanted you alone.

"I am wrestling with the idea, Lady," you assured softly, "yet, there has been no decision made, nor am I swaying any which way more heavily." You watched her carefully, "You have an opinion on the matter, do you not?"

"How can I not, sweet child," she sighed, setting her goblet down as you did the same to the utensils in hand, "when there is a possibility my son is leaving?"

You couldn't help it, truly. But the laugh was genuine, "My Queen! There is not a world in which I would dare take your son from you. If I decided to venture to Pentos, it will not be with my white-haired husband and his 180-year-old dragon. That warrants attention I do not wish for."

"You are a Targaryen now - "

"I do not look it," you nodded. "I have a no-name face and can still travel undetected. Your son cannot afford the same luxury."

"And yet, I cannot shake this feeling..."

"That feeling you feel is natural for every mother," you nodded, taking a sip of water to clear your mouth and throat of residue. "It is the dread that your children are growing up and will leave, like you were forced to as a girl." Her face was painted in earnest shock. "Do not think so little of me, Your Grace, I've done my fair share of familial research - but also, the maids like to gossip." Alicent chuckled some. "I am truly sorry for your mother, and that you had to leave home to live with your father here... But there will come a time your kids are going to spread their leathery wings and fly. If it's something I've learned in the few, short years of marriage? You cannot hold dragons back. Believe me when I say, I do not want to take your son from you, but should he make his decision, that's only his to make. For now, I am simply weighing pro's and con's. The idea of adventure is a little too tantalizing."

Alicent regarded you for a long moment before slowly nodding, "Then it shall be his decision."

"If you'd like, if I go and end up in Braavos or other, I'll send a barrel of spiced wine."

"Oh, you," she chuckled, waving you off some.

"How fairs the King?"

Alicent paused to smile softly at the woman she married her son to, and for a moment, let her heart beat with pride at such a fine young woman joining her family. Y/N L/N was a woman of great beauty and even greater brains, a woman her son could engage with; a woman she was pleased to see fit in effortlessly. There wasn't a single soul in the entire castle who did not like her - and it came in handy at times.

Y/N was also the only one who ever bothered to ask about Viserys anymore, too. So, Alicent smiled and nodded, "He has his good days and bad."

You nodded slowly. "I remember when my grandfather started to lose his mind... It was gradual, then one day, it was like a switch flipped. For the last few years of his life, he didn't know who I was, but with Mum and Da' out, workin', doin' whatever they needed to, I was with him day in and out... It wasn't easy."

"You've never spoke of your family before," Alicent sat up in intrigue. "Three years being married, six months of courting before that - and you've never spoke of them," Alicent looked at you with a sense of wonder.

"Some family's aren't worth the effort to discuss," you shrugged a bit. "The moment you sent word for the courting season, away I was swept, and my father was adamant on making a match. Can you imagine how happy he was to learn I was courting the Prince?"

"Was he?" Alicent asked softly, giving a knowing look.

"He kept asking if it were true, and asked if his dragon took his eye," you snickered to her. "Kept asking what rumors were true."

"Gods," she chuckled.

"I told him outlandish things," you admitted with a snicker. "He caught on eventually, cursed me to all Seven Hells... Stopped writing, and then word reaches me of his passing. Hm," you shrugged a bit.

"Well, you're better off without, yes?"

"Indeed, I'd say... Look, Your Grace, I have not made any decision about my travels. As of right now, I'm okay reading my books and letting my mind go on adventures - I will tell you when I have made a decision."

"All right..."

"You will be the second to know, after Aemond, of course."

She smiled, "Yes, yes. Of course."

You glanced out the window to the sun's position, finding it nearly completely gone, and turned to your mother-by-law. "Speaking of, I'm sure he's expecting me soon. I'll be going now," you stood slowly, waiting for her to stop you.

"Of course, yes, yes, go on," she smiled. "Thank you for tonight."

"Always my pleasure," you promised with a curtesy, turning after, and exiting the room. "Have a good evening, Ser Cole."

"And you, Princess," he nodded with a soft smile. "Good supper?"

"Oh, you know I have a love-affair with Chef Hayford's cooking," you chuckled, watching him return it with a nod of agreement.

Turning forward, you only had to travel a short way; mostly turning down three different stone corners to reach a more secluded hallway. Aemond preferred solitude, so, when you married, you snagged up the suite in the Western Wing that was newly renovated - but it was "sadly" away from most of the castle's traffic. So, of course it was perfect for the pair of you.

When you slipped in the door, Aemond was standing at the basin of water, shirtless, leaning heavily on the stone and wiping the back of his neck while lost in thoughtful contemplation.

"Aemond?" You questioned softly, shutting the door, and rushing for him. "Are you all right?" When in the light, you saw the discoloration of his skin, whispering, "Oh, my love..."

"It's not so bad," he answered in the same lowered tone.

"Liar."

"No, truly, it's not the worst I've had," Aemond straightened up, looking down at you with a soft smirk. "Hi, poppet."

"Hi," you smiled, letting him lean down some as you rocked to your toes to kiss him in greeting. "How was your day?"

"Cole was brutal in training, but it was good," he nodded, dropping the washcloth after wringing it out. "And yours, my love?"

"Well... Your mother's caught rumor of our plans..."

"What's that mean?"

"She directly asked if I mean to go to Pentos and if I mean to take you with me, as if to take you away from her."

"Gods," his eyes rolled, "swear, the walls have ears in this place."

"Tell me of it," your eyes rolled. "I think she's off the scent for now, but we should be more diligent and a little more careful..."

"Hmm," he considered, nodding after. "Yes, love. Right, then."

"Are you hungry?"

"I could eat."

"How about at Kavvin's?"

"In the city?"

You nodded with a grin, "Feelin' up for a game, love?"

Aemond turned to you fully, hands on your hips and a grin on his lips. "Yeah... Yeah, yeah, I could go for something to eat."

"Start there, then," you whispered.

"You've the time it takes me to clean up and change to get out of here," he smirked, forehead on yours.

You dashed around the room to change into a tunic, trousers, boots, and a thick muted-color cloak. Aemond chuckled to himself as you blew him an air kiss before sneaking through secret passage door... And away you went.

Once out of the Keep's grounds, it was easy enough to lose yourself in the city's streets; but kept to the plan and made for Kavvin's tavern. You slipped in and made quick work of finding the young lad, working on sopping up a puddle of ale, and dashing over to him.

"Princess," he chuckled some, eyeing you up and down. "What's it for you tonight, then?"

"Send him down the Street, I wanna see how far he'll go," you smirked some, squeezing his elbow as you slipped him a Gold Dragon as a tip.

"All right," he shrugged. "Want a drink while you wait?"

"Oh, please, you and I both know that man takes the longest fucking strides in the bloody Realm," you laughed a bit, Kavvin nodding in agreement. "If I want to win, I've gotta go."

"Back door's open," he smirked, pointing you off.

In fact, he had to restrain a laugh when not a full five minutes later, Aemond was stalking into the tavern - eye sweeping the area. He decided that for tonight, he was on your side, and made himself busy with other customers to stave off telling Aemond anything.

However, nobody flagged Kavvin down when they noted the hooded man with one eye stalk up to him.

"My Prince," Kavvin greeted softly, tossing the cloth he was using over his shoulder. "You're out late, aren't you?"

"Hardly," Aemond sighed some.

"Well, you will be," the lad smirked.

"Where's she off to?"

Kavvin shrugged, and Aemond slapped a Gold Dragon to his hand. "Uh, think she made mention of... Well, now that I think on it, 's a bit fuzzy, yeah?"

"Where, Kavvin?" Aemond growled, another coin dropped to his hand.

"Hm, yes," he examined the coin, "think she said something about goin' off down the Street, yes?"

"No, she didn't."

"Swear it, honest," Kavvin nodded. "Said she wanted to see how far you'd go tonight. You do somethin' to piss her off, mate?"

"Not that I'm aware of - though, she might think 'twas I who told the Queen of our plans."

"Well, that makes little sense," Kavvin chuckled, "for even I know, the idea to leave this wretched city was your own..."

"She's an easier scape goat for the courts and help to gossip about," Aemond frowned a bit. "The Street, you said?"

"Street of Silk," Kavvin agreed softly, offering a coin back, "honest, that's where she said she was headin'."

Aemond nodded and turned, leaving the bartender with his hand extended; but it quickly recoiled with a smirk as Aemond took leave. After a chuckle, Kavvin thumbed the coin to flip in the air; catching it in a swipe, then turning as he pocketed his extra coins as a few men grew louder and sloshed ale around - leaving Kavvin in for a long night tending his bar.

The Street of Silk was alive tonight, as it was all other nights. Lowly lit torches hung on the walls lined your way; most wearing hoods and darkened colors to hide themselves. Whores and Mistresses hung out of doorways and windows; hollering, snarling, laughing at any passing customer.

You didn't often dare to venture down this way, but tonight was special; you were in it to win. So, you ducked down a darkened alley and knocked three times, in a specific pattern, at the wooden door.

A moment later, it pulled open.

"What're you doin' here?" Tiyana smirked to you, leaning on the doorway. "My brithday or sum'thin'? Here ta treat me, is it?"

"Not tonight, my sweet," you smirked. "Carry a message for me?"

"To who?"

"My husband."

"Ain't no way," she shrugged. "He don't come down this way, no, ma'am. Ain't nobody seen the One-Eyed Prince 'round these parts since - well..."

"Yeah, yes, yes, I know. But he'll come this way, and I need you to catch his eye. Tell him to go by the markets."

"Oh - I get it," she laughed. "You two playin' that game, innit? Yeah? You two li'l freaks, is it?"

"A bit," you mused softly. "Will you do as I've asked?"

"Gonna come back and entertain me a bit?"

Your head cocked, eyeing her up and down, "Perhaps - though, my husband is often insatiable."

"Say that like I haven't eaten his cum out your cunt before, hey?" She smirked. "All right, yeah, fine, I'll tell 'im if he comes ta see me, yeah?"

"You're my favorite for a reason," you smirked, holding your hand out.

"Lady," Tiyana gasped, weighing the gold in her hand. "Th-This is more than I make inna month, it is! What'chu givin' it ta me for?"

"You've always been loyal and discreet," you eased. "Don't fail me tonight, love."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she grinned. "You're a right Gods-sent Lady, you is. I'll tell yah husband what you want - markets, you said?"

"Yeah, the market stalls," you nodded. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, 'course," she smirked, nodding as you pushed off again into the city's streets.

This time, Aemond was slower to arrive on scene. He stood at the mouth of the rambunctious street, eyeing it with malcontent, but something in his stomach solidified and moved him forward. Bad thoughts and haunting memories swarmed Aemond's guts and mind, but still, he let his feet glide down the natural decline.

His eye surveyed the promiscuous activities around him, finding it would be the perfect place to catch you - but then, someone else was catching his eye.

She leaned in a low-bearing window, tits nearly fully popping out of her shirt; eyes rimmed in coal, and hair pulled off her neck. Her eyes ran over his hood and then noted the lack of an eye, motioning him forward. He didn't want to; there had been many who gestured to him all night, but for some reason, this was different... He glanced around, then moved forward.

"She's been to see you, Tiyana?"

"Not without you, Lord," the whore smirked, sitting herself on the window sill. "She's very loyal, that one."

"Being why you're helping her?"

"I'm helpin' yah both!" She laughed. "I want you both ta get laid, hey? So, listen, right? She went down that way," she pointed, "but said meet her in the markets?"

Aemond paused, lifting his gaze slowly. "Down that way?" He asked, pointing down the alley.

"Mhm - took a left, down there," Tiyana pointed, leaning out of the window a bit. "Can I ask something?"

Aemond sighed, glancing around them to the bustle of the drunken crowd. "Sure, what is it?"

"Why's it you two do this? Hey? Just wonderin' - life so bloody boring, you two need sex games?"

Aemond smirked a bit, "More like... We prefer to keep things interesting. You find new ways to get the blood pumping."

"I know a few ways," she smirked.

"I know," he whispered in agreement. "But you know the agreement - not without my wife."

"Wasn't tryna persuade yah, Princey, just wonderin' why yah's do this," she smirked.

"Keeps things... Fresh."

"Hmm," she nodded.

"Think a hunter and prey, yes?"

Tiyana grinned, "Ah, yes, there it is - yeah. All right, fair enough, my Prince. She went that way, but said markets."

"You're a hidden gem," Aemond smirked some, dropping more coins in her hand.

"And you two are me favorite customers," she winked. "Go on, get goin', she's waitin' on yah out there! Fuck 'er good for me, lad! Hey-hey!" She laughed loudly as Aemond pushed off, heading down the alley he was pointed towards.

Slowly, the sounds of the city fell behind him and Aemond noted the way this path took him closer to the water-ways. With a small smirk, he made a judgement call and ducked down a different alley; peering around to slink in the darkness.

Like a bloodhound on the scent after a weakening deer, the pair of you danced around one another; where one ducked into an alley, the other was tip-toeing away. He grew tired of waiting and decided to look around the market like you had said.

It was there in the maze of market stalls that you saw him, smirking as you quickly exchanged your cloak for a different colored one. From there, you picked up an abandoned basket and slunk around the outskirts of the stalls. You kept an eye on Aemond, moving when he did; keeping distance between you but feeling a little frisky.

So, you took a risk, and casually strolled by him as if intent on picking from the plum cart.

He didn't notice you; your eyes watching from under the hood as his tall figure allowed him to peer over heads. Again, you ducked around the few carts and stalls, just watching him for another moment.

Then, you ventured close to the apples... And again, Aemond was too busy glaring at a man who bumped into his shoulder to notice. You took another risk, and dared asking the vendor a question - voice clear on the air. Still, he did not notice.

After another few minutes of watching him turn in confusion, wondering where you could've gone, Aemond started towards the closest tavern - thinking maybe you were hidden in plain sight.

How right he was, but unknowing.

You crept around, exchanging your cloak again before jogging after your husband. However, when you peaked around the doorway of the tavern, you noticed how the white-haired man you loved and adored had effortlessly melted into the crowd, and now, you were back at a disadvantage.

Learning from past mistakes, you quickly turned and let your legs pump with effort to rush away from the markets.

Around a few corners and down two alleyways, you were arriving at the bay port - but only had a moment to recognize your surroundings before a hand clamped over your mouth as another quickly coiled around your middle to pin your arms.

You gasped into the calloused hand, feeling the strong chest slam into your back before forcing you back a few steps. With gritted teeth, you were slammed into the stone wall of one of the darkened alleyways. However, your eyes settled on your 'attacker' and quickly slitted. "Husband," you identified.

"Wife," Aemond smirked. "You're getting predictable, love."

"How'd you know?"

He shrugged, "I felt your eyes on me in the markets and figured I could blend in at the tavern. From there, I knew you'd follow to keep an eye on me, so, I waited, and when I saw you rush away, I took a shortcut."

"Mhm," you hummed, lifting your chin as he leered over you. "I did learn something tonight."

"What's that, my darling?"

"You blend in rather effortlessly when your hair's covered," you muttered as he slowly stepped closer so you were nearly cowering into the brick behind you. "Might do us well, after all... Should we choose to leave..."

Aemond's one hand rose to hold your jaw as the other planted against the wall to corral you to him. "You say that as if my mind's changed."

"Has it?"

"Not in the slightest," he promised, petting his thumb over your lips to catch the bottom one. "Where you go, I go, and away from this wretched fucking city is where I want us to be."

"You'd leave them?" You asked with a smirk. "Leave your family? For me?"

"For my own family?" He corrected, nodding, "Yes, I would've left yesterday if I knew."

"How fucked everything has become?" You whispered sadly, lifting a hand to pet down his collarbone and rest against his pectoral.

"Something like that," he nodded, lifting a knee to separate your legs. "You'd go with me? When the time comes, you'd go with me?"

With a sigh, you nodded, trying not to grind down on his thigh. "Anywhere, my Prince - anywhere you want, we'll go."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you all but whimpered as the hand that once caressed your skin then moved to a bruising grip around your neck.

"Hold still," he nodded, "I won, yes?"

"Mhm."

"Then hold still while I claim my prize," he smirked, yanking his dagger from under his cloak and slowly dragging the pointed tip down your stomach. He didn't press hard, instead, dragging it between your skin and the cloth of your trousers. "Good girl," he crooned as he let the dagger's blade slit the seam of your pants.

"Aemond," you glanced up the alley nervously, body nearly trembling from anticipation.

"Shhh," he nodded, leaning in to breath in your scent. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other working to literally cut a slit in your trousers; letting his tongue flatten against your pulse point.

"Aemond," you whimpered, holding onto him tightly.

"Good girl," he purred again, sheathing his dagger and letting his hand drop again to then pet up your dampening slit from outside the cloth of clothing. "Easier, yeah?" He smirked against your ear, breathing deeply as he let his pointer finger push into your heat, praising, "So warm for me. But I need you wetter than this to take you - don't wanna hurt you, pet."

You groaned a little, holding onto him while keeping a leg up his hip. "What if someone sees?" You whispered against his mouth, practically mewling like a bitch in heat.

"Let them," he nodded, "all they'd see is a man, pleasuring his wife." Your breathing subtly changed as his mouth hung over your ear, promising, "Splitting her in two, watching as she takes his cock so fucking well. That's all they'd see, pet."

"Fuck."

"Hmm, fuck you how?" He smirked, letting a second finger join his first. "Want me to bend you over? Fuck you on the floor? Find those barrels back there?"

"Against the wall, want you t'take me against the wall," you nodded, a sheen of sweat slowly forming over your skin. "Wanna feel you in my fuckin' lungs, yeah?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants, she gets," Aemond growled, slapping your hands off him and readjusting you two. "C'mon, love, earn it - up, jump up, c'mon." When you did, he caught you easily, grunting, "Atta girl. Hang on," he panted then, pressing you against the wall as he adjusted to hold you against the wall while freeing his cock.

"Aemond, please, please," you begged softly, holding his jaw with both hands, "Gods, I need you to fuck me so bad."

"C'mere," he seethed, hoisting you a little higher to adjust his cock at your (cloth-cut) entrance. You both gave guttural moans as he let you sink onto him, grinding your hips into his to better adjust. "Fuckin' grippin' me too tight, love," he growled, hands squeezing your hips as you kept hold of his neck and shoulders.

"Gonna last f'me?"

"Might just have to pump you full, hmm?" He smirked, using his chest to slam into yours and righten your spine. His hand shot up to constrict around your neck, the other used to hold you on his hips; making your legs work overtime to stay atop him.

"Oh, Gods, fuck," you whimpered, hood still over both your heads as Aemond rammed into you.

"Told you - wasn't wet enough," he cursed in your ear.

"Feels fuckin' amazing, please, don't stop," you begged him, hearing his small grunts and growls start up as both hands moved to hold either thigh and keep you spread against the wall. "Oh, my Gods," you sobbed, truly unsure if you were feeling pleasured or not from the feeling of Aemond fucking through you.

"Ah, fuck, fuck," he hissed, hips stuttering as he met his first orgasm.

"Wow... That was record time," you teased quietly when he paused to keep you full to the hilt of his emptying cock.

"I warned yah," he smirked some, readjusting his hold as sweat coated his skin. "My cum just makes you wetter, hey? Yeah, look at that," he hissed, eye cutting down to watch his cock slowly pull back; revealing webs of cum between you and him.

Your hands pawed at his neck, tugging him forward; whining against his mouth, "I need more, please."

He smirked, "Gonna be a good girl and hold it all in until we get back to the Keep?"

You whispered, "What if I can't?"

"I'll just have to fill you again..." His cock twitched, making his throat bob. "Want your belly swollen with our kid, 's 'bout time, isn't it? For the Gods to bless us?"

"Yet you talk of leaving the city - "

"All the more reason," he promised, still holding you spread as he let his hips start up again; rutting into you slowly. "Protect you, protect our kid," he muttered into your neck, "get away from this fucking place - be safe. Be together - oh shit," he moaned.

"Yeah," you grinned, holding him to your neck; clenching your muscles to make him whine, "that's right, emotional intimacy turns you on, doesn't it? Hey?"

"Fuck - yes, yes, it does," he promised, starting to pick up his pace. "Just want you pregnant already, fuck's sake."

"Then fill me," you purred, clenching your teeth when his fully-swollen cock once more stabbed through you. "I wanna make you a Daddy."

"Shit," he breathed, turning his head when he heard noises; but did not stop. Three men and two women stumbled down the alley, drunk, cooing when they saw the couple against the wall.

"Ye-ahhh!" One leered.

"Give it to 'er!" Another hollered.

"Fucking fill me," you followed right after in his ear. "Oh, fuck, yes, please, right there," you hissed as he pinned you harder to the cold stone behind you, the group of five passing with their eyes glued to the pair of you. It was oddly erotic, spurring Aemond on as your mouth hung open in a silent scream.

His balls jackhammered into the wet apex of your cunt as his arms all but braced against you to keep you in place. You were moldable, you were limp, you were taunt with pleasure at the same time; you were a twitching, moaning mess when feeling returned to your limbs as his thumb found your clit.

"Take it, I know my girl can take it," Aemond growled, humping up into you to create friction at that special, gummy spot on your inner walls. "Oh, so fuckin' good, just take it, my precious girl," he praised, hearing the group still stumbling about at the other end of the alley.

"Why don't you fuck me like that?" One of the girls growled in annoyance.

"I can't hold yah like tha', by the Gods," her partner laughed.

Your hand slapped outward against the stone when your husband rubbed your clit in time with his thrusts; letting his mouth open slightly to bite at your shoulder and encourage you to do the same.

You came with a cry, mouth full of his shoulder's flesh; rolling your hips into his with your booted heels pressing into the meat of his arse as waves of pleasure rippled across your beings. Aemond wasn't far behind and when his cock was almost strangled by the clenching of your walls, he came for a second time.

It was enough for you both, panting in effort as your legs were numb. Aemond slowly pulled out of you, hearing you stutter to breath as his cum instantly pumped out to drip onto the pavement beneath you.

"Gods," Aemond breathed in shock, watching the puddle slowly grow.

"Ah!" You yelped when he lowered you, and your legs gave way; his arms darting out to instantly cling onto you as the back of your head thumped into the wall.

"Shit, love, all right?" His hand pressed to the tender spot as you pouted some. The group that watched had since passed, leaving you alone again with split trousers that grew wetter from the ooze of cum. Aemond was trying to catch his breath and support you at the same time, readjusting your clothes for you best he could. "Got it, love?"

"Can't feel my bloody legs," you complained lightly.

"C'mere, I've got you," he promised, arms tight around your waist. "Did good tonight, pet."

"But I lost?"

"'S not about winning or losing, in the end, we both reap benefits, yes?" You nodded. "And as you said, tonight gave you reassurance we could blend in across the Narrow Sea, did it not?"

"It did," you agreed. "But I want to wait until next month, I want to know if it's stuck."

"I'll fuck you everyday until then, yes? Breed you, like I know you want me to," he smirked, one arm holding you up to walk in front of him as the other fingered down the crack of your arse. "Keep walking, don't make a scene," he whispered in your ear, pushing his fingers into your cunt as you lead the way through King's Landing. It wasn't the most comfortable, but Aemond made it doable; pausing in another alleyway to push your chest to the stone wall.

"Aemond," you cursed his name into the wall brushing your cheek.

"Easy," he chuckled, nudging your feet apart. "Take me once more and I'll carry you home."

"Aemond?" You reared back a little when his hardened cock pushed into you again.

"What do you need?"

Your hand raised to pet over his cheek, back bowed to hold yourself up and keep him inside you. "Make me a Mommy, please," you whispered, earning a sharp slap to your arse cheek before his hands seized control of your hips.

"Hold it in this time, then," he teased, starting to thrust into you like a wild horse; bucking his hips into yours to create ripples across your flesh. It seemed as if your frantic motions in the middle of the alley deterred anyone from turning down it, leaving a brief moment of privacy in the sweltering city night.

One of his hands slithered up your front to fondle your breast, tweaking a nipple until you were nearly collapsing into the wall. Aemond had to hold you slightly as you bent lower, almost desperate to take him to the hilt as you fucked back against him - and he took full advantage of your new position.

Aemond kept his feet with your own, hands on your hips; thrusting harder into you as sweat beaded on his skin to roll down his pearly flesh. "Fuck, Gods be fucking good," he cursed, "how's it you're this tight, still? Hey?"

You whimpered wordlessly, gasping when one of Aemond's thumbs came to gently rim around your puckered hole. He didn't often let himself explore your arse, but sometimes, to catch you off guard, he liked testing your limits. After making him venture down the Street of Silk by himself, he figured a little payback was in order.

A stranger started down the alley and actually paused to watch the pair of you, Aemond's spit being spat from his mouth onto your holes; winking in the distant moonlight.

"Take it," Aemond growled when your legs gave way, and sent you both careening into the dirty floor. It only spurred him on further.

"Don't stop," the stranger recommended, loosening his breeches to take his cock out and pump himself to life.

Aemond, fully enraptured with the feel of your cunt, let his hand latch onto the back of your neck to hold you in place as he thrust harder, harder, harder into you. Your hips bruised from the way he pounded you into the cobblestone, growling as he glanced at the stranger.

"Oh, shit," the man nodded, pumping faster. "Yeah - look me in the eyes, mate, that's it."

"The fuck?" You whispered, glancing up to watch.

"Eyes on him, Princess," Aemond demanded, fully hunched over you as he felt his stomach's coil tighten; informing you, "almost there, precious girl, keep bein' a good fuckin' girl - oh, ah fuckin' Hell!"

"Oh, yeah," the stranger nodded. "Can I cum on her, mate?"

"You wanna die?" Aemond snapped.

"Lemme use her mouth," the stranger complained, head tossed back and eyes screwed shut. "Betta yet, lemme a turn!"

Aemond gasped behind you, stalling his hips into the meat of your bum while letting his cock pump you full of his seed. He recovered much quicker than you, kissing your temple as he unsheathed himself from your velvet warmth to stand, tuck himself away, and stride up to the man still masturbating to the sight of your swollen, dripping cunt.

"Woah - hang on - wait, wait, wait!" The man gasped as Aemond stabbed him non-fatally in the ribs.

"Go - before I decide I need your life for even looking at her," he sneered, shoving the man away while yanking his dagger free. A splatter of blood echoed in-between your heaving breaths.

When he turned back, he smirked at the sight of you; fucked-out and unable to find your feet, limp on the dirt-riddled cobblestone. "You didn't have to do that," you told him softly when he neared you to adjust what was left of the tatters of your clothes.

"I did," he smirked. "C'mere, up yah get. Think my wife's earned a hot bath, don't you?"

"Will you join me?" You asked, letting him lift you bridal style. The cloak was long enough that when he picked you up, it covered your cum-soaked hole in his arms.

"I can't resist you, pet," he frowned, "we wouldn't be doin' much cleaning, hey?"

"So?" You smirked, arms tight around his neck. "I want to make you a Daddy, Aemond, best we... Do our due diligence, yes?"

"You make a fair point, Princess," he smirked. "If you can handle it, I'll fuck you the rest of the night, yes?"

"I'm an orgasm behind," you reminded softly as he chose a lesser-used secret entrance into the Red Keep.

"Hm, yes, I seem to owe you one," he smirked in agreement. "Better stay awake, then."

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[night-raven-tattler]

Hello there, I recently became a follower and I love your writing so far, keep up the great work and I hope you’re having a wonderful day

I saw that requests are open so if it’s alright, can I get headcannons of the first years (separate) and shows/movies they’d enjoy watching with the reader?

Thought it’ll be pretty fun and an excuse for me to get recommendations lol, thank you!

Hello, Aesthetic! Thank you for your kind words! This was a bit of a challenge for Mx Tattly, since they are not a huge movie person. However she hopes you still enjoy his takes. They also wrote from the perspective of the Prefect/Yuu having access to some movies from their world of origin. Enjoy!

Movie night, otherworldly edition

Characters: Grim, Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho, Sebek and GN!Reader (separate)

Warnings: food mention (Epel's part)

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Grim's preffered genres are: comedy, action, animation, fantasy

Grim trully is a child at heart, and all the colorful characters and scenes from animation have him hooked

He also enjoys a good laugh, especially visual gags

He barely has any attention to spare for a series, so movies are his preffered format

He would never admit it but he's a sucker for found family

Silent movie crier

Loud denier

Some favorites from your world: Home; Bolt; That one Wizard Boy Movie we Don't mention in This Household; he has a weird relationship with Ace Ventura

『••✎••』

Ace's preffered genres are: horror, thriller, action, adventure

He enjoys gorey stuff and being the guy you hide behind of when the scenes get too much, but he needs time to prepare for psychological horror

Ace is the type to look up spoilers before watching something and he tries to trick you into believing his made up version of the plot

He talks a lot during movies but hates when others do it

While he enjoys a good adventure movie, he hates superhero movies and he thinks they're silly

He prefers movies over series because he likes the format more, but he's down for a short series

Some favorites from your world: The Mummy; Jumanji (he loves making fun of it); American Psycho; Scary Movie

『••✎••』

Deuce's preffered genres are: action, adventure, animation, family movies

He is pretty easy to please, he'd watch anything that is entertaining

Definitely a Marvel fan

He also loves animation movies, the animation always leaves him awestruck

He likes movies about families and their bonds

Deuce is also surprisingly into medical dramas... but also cop dramas

He is a crier as well but only when he's just with you

Some favorites from your world: Black Panther; The Rookie; A Goofy movie; Police Academy 2

『••✎••』

Jack's preferred genres are: documentary, adventure, romance, dramas and telenovelas with a bit of nudging

Jack is the type of guy to retain various informations after watching something

He can sometimes memorise entire scenes, and he finds that habit less annoying when he watches documentaries; he likes something informative and motivational

Jack also enjoys some romance movies sometimes, but he is very picky so it's hard for him to find one he actually likes

He does, however, like to point out and comment on the weird courting habits humans have

Jack finds telenovelas and soap operas kind of nonsensical and overly dramatic, but he also gets hooked on the plot pretty quick and soon enough it would become a bit of a guilty pleasure

Some favorites from your world: David Holmes, the boy who lived; the social dilemma; Love, Simon; Yo soy Betty la fea

『••✎••』

Epel's preferred genres are: comedy, action, western, anything he can mock and make fun of

If you think Ace is bad with his mid watch commentary, Epel is 10 times worse

He mocks things in movies so often he's giving Cinema Sins a run for their money

He won't shut up even if you give him all the snacks, he'll talk while eating

He also has the most colourful, boisterous, ridiculous laughter imaginable (and I say that lovingly), so if the comedy movie is not making you laugh then Epel's laughter is

Epel is not a picky watcher so he can get behind anything that isn't too sappy

If you pull out anything with Vil on the poster though he will dematerialise from your couch

Some favorites from your world: Rush Hour; Desperado; Puss in Boots 2; any Fast and Furious movie (unfortunately)

『••✎••』

Ortho's preferred genres are: anything he finds intriguing, family movies

If anything, Ortho has a wide palate and can enjoy almost anything

He also knows how a movie ends before he watches it, but it never ruins his enjoyment

He never spoils anyone unless they try to argue with him about the direction of the plot

Most of his interest in movies came from wanting to understand human behavior better, but now he can just use them as a time killer or sleepover material

He also likes watching your reactions to the movies: how often you laugh, how often you cry, how often you reach for snacks

A favorite from your world: Big Hero 6

『••✎••』

Sebek's preferred genres are: historical films, (period) dramas, musicals with the right nudge

Listen here, musical enjoyers. Here is the most susceptible one to being convinced to join the dark side

One word: Hamilton.

Yes, he'll think the music is nonsensical, BUT he'll also tap his foot to it

AND if you say anything about teaching him something from the soundtrack to surprise Malleus with, he's all ears

He is also very quick to get songs stuck in his head: he's easy prey

All jokes aside, Sebek can be a good watch buddy when his interest is piqued

Not even he can deny when a movie has good plot and characters

He does prefer period dramas, since he has a soft spot for the setting

And historical films: a nerd do be nerding even during movie nights

Some favorites from your world: The Crown, Hamilton, Les Miserables, maybe Oppenheimer but it would be used in his anti-human agenda

『••✎••』

Speaking of Oppenheimer...

Well, let's discuss Barbenheimer.

Everyone went to watch both movies:

Ace went dressed in pink for the both of them

Deuce got confused by the "dresscode" and apologised to you for not knowing about it

Jack and Ortho enjoyed both

Epel insisted he liked Oppenheimer more but he's lying

Sebek cried at the end of Barbie

Grim is the only one who in fully in Oppenheimer's corner

[oops-all-concrete]

Hi! I have a request for bg3 head-cannons. These entail Tav not being able to read and the group all separately trying to teach them how to. (I feel like gale would be the master at this). Thank you!❤️

Aw, I love this ask!! Thank you for the request, this is genuinely so sweet and is spawning like a million ideas in my head. (I have a Tav I always imagine being illiterate)

BG3 companions react to; Tav not knowing how to read!

No content warnings, just fluff and sweetness for the most part. Potentially minor spoilers for certain characters? But nothing major/important.

Lae'zel -

She's a little surprised, given how old Tav is. She knew how to read Tir'Su slate by age 6. Knew how to read and write common by 8. Learned a few other languages by 12. For Tav to not know their own language in writing is concerning. She wouldn't have the patience to teach them, but she would go out of her way to read out signs and plaques to Tav. They need to get by somehow and she's at least got the patience for that.

Shadowheart -

"Oh? Was this not a necessary skill where you grew up?" She's quite open minded. She understands not all societies have a lean on literacy, as much as she couldn't imagine living like that. She asks if they'd like to know and reads to them in the evenings. She only has some chappy romance novels and crime fiction, but she likes the books, so she's happy to read to them. It's a slow process, but she's patient.

Wyll -

He's stunned. He knows there's plenty of people who simply can't obtain the skill due to a number of reasons, dyslexia, bad vision, blindness entirely, but Tav should know if they can learn. He's quick to get as much reading material as he can find and invite Tav to little lessons. He's a wonderful teacher, praises every new word, applauds the reading of a sentence and smiles every time Tav reads something on their own during an adventure.

Karlach -

She's the least bothered. A little surprised, but not judging. "Eh, I can't ride any mounts or hold my breath for more than 20 seconds at a time. I've lived, so will you" She shrugs it off so easy. She does however keep that information to herself if she's the only one Tav has told. It's not worth judging, she refuses to look down on anyone for it, but she worries Gale, Astarion or Lae'zel will be critical and perhaps even mean about it? And Tav doesn't need that. Mama K's got you.

Gale -

He's not critical, but he is interested. Gale might have a bit of an ego and thinks the world of his skills, but his mother wouldn't let him leave the house if he thought less of others for not having skills. He does offer to teach, but he asks in a very particular way. "I'd be happy to teach you, should you wish to learn. It's fine if you don't though. Just tap me and point and I'll translate for you" He says, calm and even. Deep down, he is concerned, but stays level headed. Tav deserves that much.

Astarion -

"What, did your folks just get lazy? Ugh, what swine." He's offended on Tavs behalf. He thinks it's atrocious they don't have such a basic and essential skill and can't believe whoever/wherever Tav was brought up just didn't help them. So naturally, he pulls out some of his own reading material and finds some easier things during travel if he can. He'll be damned if he's going to let them sit there and not know what a warning sign is.

Bonus! The elder folks 💕

Halsin -

"Ah, you need not be ashamed. Nature never intended writing, as helpful as it can be." He smiles. He's happy to teach, but doesn't mind if Tav has no desire to learn. He thinks it would be helpful, but otherwise thinks nothing of it. He will read things if asked without question, but makes no other comments.

Jaheira -

"Cub, as long as you can remember what I say and know how to say what you're saying, I couldn't care less...but if you want to learn, you can always tell me or Halsin...or the wizard, Gale. They'd be happy to teach I'm sure" She just shrugs and keeps moving.

Minsc -

"Warriors have no need for words anyhow, my friend! We can just speak with our hands and feet...in combat!" With some encouraging squeaks from Boo.

[butterflyseas]

⸻ "hey... you okay?"

☆ノ aka how they take care of you when you're sick (ft. march 7th, seele, bronya, natasha, serval)

↳ notes: wrote this while i wasn't feeling too good, so this is pretty self-indulgent. may be a little bit ooc. just some quick little headcanons <3

↳ content: gn!reader. mentions of being sick (non specific). slight spoilers in natasha's. brief mentions of loss. fluff <3

⸻ 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗖𝗛 𝟳𝗧𝗛

MARCH notices that you're sick before you even realize it yourself — there's a certain shine that's missing from your eyes; your expression isn't as bright as it normally is. she's committed your face to memory; not even the slightest change in it goes missed.

seeing the change in your expression changes hers — it goes from its usual cheerful bubbliness to a concerned one in the blink of an eye as she asks you what's wrong. and when you tell her you don't feel well, she immediately tells you that you "should have told me sooner!" and that "you need to rest right away!"

she corrals you off to her room and tucks you in amongst her pillows and blankets and stuffed animals. she just wants you to be as comfortable as possible! at least, that's half of the truth — she also just wants to stay close to you.

whatever you need, she's happy to get you! water? there's already a full glass on the nightstand. tea for when your throat is sore? she's brewing a pot as you speak. tissues? she set out a box next to you ages ago. medicine? she's pestering dan heng to get every kind he can find. cuddles until you fall asleep? she was already going to do that <3

part of it is because she wants you to get better as soon as possible — she misses hanging out and going places with you — but it's also because she doesn't like seeing you unwell. it makes her anxious for some reason — like she's on the verge of losing something important to her. she doesn't tell you that, though — she doesn't want you to worry when you're already not feeling good.

so, for your sake — and her own — she ignores that feeling and instead focuses her energy on keeping you in high spirits. she'll talk your ear off about anything that comes to mind — usually stories about past trailblazing expeditions and the adventures she got up to on them. anything to put even the slightest smile on your face.

"oh, oh! and then, dan heng said—"

⸻ 𝗦𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗘

when SEELE gets sick, she ignores it and pushes through whatever illness she may have gotten. because of that, she doesn't notice when you're feeling unwell until you're trailing a handful of paces behind her.

she'll scold you for not telling her sooner — and for making her worry — but she's mostly upset with herself for not realizing something was wrong quicker. if something were to happen to you because she was careless... she doesn't like to think about it; she'll be more vigilant next time.

her first instinct is to take you to see natasha — she's not a total novice when it comes to managing an illness, but she'd rather be safe than sorry and make sure it really is just a simple cold and not something more serious. and when it isn't — when it really is just some little bug you caught from somewhere — she visibly relaxes and lets out a small sigh of relief.

even if she's not the best at showing it, seele cares deeply about you. every time she tells you to stay in bed; to take the medicine natasha sent home with you; to make sure you eat enough — it's all because she's worried about you. she's lost too many people; seen far too much death. she's doesn't want to lose you, too.

her edges soften when she's around you — they do normally, but it's more noticeable now. she'll stop you if you try to get something for yourself, saying that you should take it easy; that she's got it. she doesn't want you to overexert yourself and make your illness worse — but, deep down, she also wants to take care of you.

"just take it easy, okay? i've got it."

⸻ 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗬𝗔

BRONYA is a busy woman. being the commander of the silvermane guards as well as being the future supreme guardian means that she doesn't have a lot of free time — and any free time she does have is spent worrying about the safety and future of belobog.

however, the second she catches wind of you being sick, all of her worries shift over to you.

she can't fully abandon her duties to rush to your side — she wishes she could, though — but she does delegate as much as she can to her subordinates so she can check on you without so much looming over her head.

when you're in person, she keeps most of her worry off her face — a habit she's yet to fully break, even in your presence — but you can tell that she is, if the massive bag of items she brought with her is anything to go off of. medicines, snacks, bottles of water, soothing oils that fill the room with their scent the moment she opens them — anything that you might need to help you feel better.

she can't stay with you all day, but she stays as long as she can. most of it is spent with her doting on you — cooking lunch, brewing tea, spooning out the correct dosage of medicine to give you, cleaning and tidying your room — but there are soft, quiet moments as well. she'll sit by your bedside, holding your hand until she finally relents to your coaxing to lay next to you. with her face turning red, she'll settle into the spot beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and stroking your hair until you eventually fall asleep against her side.

before she leaves, she tucks you in and leaves a small kiss on your forehead.

"i'll be back tomorrow. rest well until then."

⸻ 𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗔

being a doctor, NATASHA is the most skilled when it comes to taking care of illnesses and ailments. and being the only doctor — as well as the leader of wildfire — in the underground means she's seen just about everything in the book, from the common cold to broken bones to everything in between — you're in good hands with her.

when you come into her clinic saying you don't feel well, she's immediately nudging you toward a bed and urging you to lay down while she looks you over and assesses your symptoms.

the underground is low on supplies — especially medical ones — but she'll still set aside some medicine and painkillers for you to take. if you don't want them — or if the clinic's supply is running dangerously low — she'll make you any one of the at-home remedies she knows.

basically, whatever you need, she'll get for you — and if she can't, she'll compromise as best she can. and if she can't do that, either, she'll venture out into the underground for a supply run herself.

while she can't shirk her duties entirely, she'll still spend every moment she can by your side. she knows it's a little excessive — after all, you're not dying — but she can't help it. she just cares about you too much to not dote on you a little — and with the way she smiles whenever you tell her you're doing okay before thanking her for caring so much, you can't bring yourself to be bothered by it.

"just lay back and relax. i'll take care of you~"

⸻ 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗔𝗟

SERVAL notices something is up when you first walk through the doors of her workshop. there's a sluggishness to the way you're walking that isn't normally there — did you not get enough sleep last night? or maybe you just woke up earlier than normal?

when she asks what's up and learns that you woke up feeling sick, her older sister instincts kick in before you even finish speaking. the machine she was tinkering with is put to the side in favor of making sure you're okay; it's not long after that you're ushered to sit down while she gets things set up for you.

she finds a pile of blankets and pillows stashed away somewhere that she turns into a makeshift bed for you. it's not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it's comfortable enough — plus, it's warm and it smells like her, so you don't mind too much.

with you tucked into your blankets, she starts a pot of tea and takes to rummaging around the workshop until she finds a few bottles of medicine hidden away in a drawer. hopefully, it's enough to stave off your sickness before it gets worse — but, if it's not and you end up needing something stronger, she'll ask gepard to stop by the clinic for her so she doesn't have to leave your side.

she likes having you lay your head in her lap — she does normally, but she especially does while she's taking care of you. she'll run her fingers through your hair and ask which of her songs you like the most — whichever you pick, she'll sing to you until you fall asleep like that. and even after you have, she'll stay in her spot until you either wake up or someone enters the workshop in need of her services.

"i don't normally give private concerts, but i'll make an exception just for you."

[vaalthus]

End of Magic Part 2: Grand Finale of Book 3 (spoilers)

My My, what a magnificent conclusion

The rather terrifying realization that Aequilibria isn't just erupting to kill everyone on Lore to wipe its shell clean of "impurities" but that it is literally going to snuff out those lives to get the mana everyone has back into itself. Which was somewhat clear when it initially introduced itself to the Hero but it's becoming pretty easy to see why it sees no issue with what its doing since from the Elements' perspective they're only taking back what they loaned out in their new little playground.

The fact that this "aspect" refers to the Aequilibria as a separate entity or designation from itself only further cements my suspicion that Sk'aar, the god of nightmares, is indeed in some shape or form a part of Aequilibria. Another aspect, or sub-function if we consider potential ties to Mechquest, but something that is based on either thoughts or dreams but that is something I wish to put under a microscope another time.

It's a small thing but I just love that in short amount of time our little mage trio have learned to piggybacked onto each other's spells for cooperation. Ya love to see it and speaking of things I love to see...

Our dragon child entering a rebellious streak against their parents!!!

I'm totally going to choose to believe this image is nothing more than a quick background cutaway for the Aspect's ultimate attack. I'm definitely NOT going to bring up the fact that it used a rune coloration affiliated with the Infernals from the Exaltia Tower. I'm also definitely not going to bring up the fact that Notha mentioned that "Evil" was the "Will of the Infernals"

>:]

Ooof sure hope the Wastes have some answers on this because uh yeah...

Ya know it's fascinating that Alexander has become this sort of big brother/uncle figure at this point in the story though after all he's suffered and all he's been able to reconcile it makes a lot of sense that he has a few bits of wisdom to deliver and kindness to provide the innocent. His advice here about duty should not be ignored though. It's been brought up before, but the Hero's rather obsessive need to be THE hero in people's lives, to be that constant helping hand, is something that could destroy them if they aren't careful.

As it stands now, our primary goal is going to be keeping Aequilibria from killing everyone which is no easy task with this scenario, not to mention the new conflicts that will surely arise from this aftermath or those that have been lying in wait to be a problem later. Hopefully, when that time comes, the hero will not make the same mistakes as both his enemies and his allies have made when the challenges ahead prove to be too much to bear alone.

THE TRUTH JAANIA!!!: We woke up god, you realized you were wrong, and now we all need to work together before an uncaring deity swallows us whole with mana juice.

This saga tragically began with three and it ends with three, ends in acceptance and peace. Rest well gang, may you reawaken to a world where your efforts did not go to waste.

Ooof that's a lot more new fissures than I was expecting and there's no telling how many may have opened on the lands we can't see like Lhe'Shiyac.

Not sure how to feel about this news. On one hand, it makes sense to have someone from our side of the world to try and give the Shapeless Empire some much needed perspective on how it rebuilds in the coming years and it wouldn't do to have Alteon return and cause potential problems with his daughter's newfound authority. On the other hand, I can't imagine how pissed or hurt Victoria, Brittany, and Tara might be when they find out he just kind of bailed to be an adventurer. Additionally, I'm not sure how much assistance he'll be in changing the Magesterium but I guess that's a job for Ostromir and Vseslava perhaps?

As in you guys will be using more ethical approaches, right? RIGHT!?!?!?

Us and our dragon riding off into the sunset into an uncertain but hopeful future was honestly the best way to end this chapter. To the devs a very pleasant thank you for the effort you put into this game after all these yea-

YO WHAT THE CLUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT BUTTON, CYSERO!?!?

[pedrito-friskito]

fire and whiskey - joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you never expected to run into joel again after boston, but here he is, and here you are.

warnings: spoilers for the last of us (i’m six hours into a play-through LOL), a lot of swearing, canon-typical violence, MENTIONS/DEPICTIONS OF ASSAULT (pls do not read if that is triggering for you!), unprotected p-in-v, fingering, oral (m receiving), joel is a grumpy man and I love him for it

a/n: please heed the warnings!! my first time writing joel and I’m kinda hooked. this show is truly going to be the death of me and I can’t wait for pedro’s performance. it’s so easy to see how he’s gonna fit watching the game itself play out.

🍂kay’s autumn adventures🍂

When he grabs you from behind, you don’t make a sound. You’ve learned, by now, to keep things quiet. But you’re still not expecting it, your whole body jolting with surprise and a breath sucked down your throat. Joel’s hand clamps over your mouth, thick fingers nearly cutting off your nose, but you don’t make a noise, letting him pull you backwards away from the clicker, feet scrambling silently over the doorjamb before he pushes it shut, quiet as can be.

“You need to keep your eyes open, girl,” he spits at you, barely above a whisper. It’s nearly pitch-black in the room, but you can just make out the shape of him, and somehow, those dark eyes manage to glitter all the same as they do in sunlight. It’s maddening. “I saw that thing comin’ a mile away. You distracted or somethin’?”

You shake your head, then realize he probably can’t see your head movement, so throw out a whispered no.

Of course, you’re fucking distracted. It’s Joel. Ten months later, and Joel fucking Miller appears out of nowhere like some kind of guardian angel, yanking a runner off you and putting a pipe through the thing’s face. You haven’t seen him since Boston. Since before everything that happened…happened.

Since Jason.

Since Tess.

Fuck, you think inwardly, exhaling against his palm. Tess. Sure, she wasn’t the nicest woman you’d ever met in your life, but she’d helped keep you alive, and you knew Joel was close to her, in that strange, standoffish, I act like I hate you but I’ll be quietly devastated if anything ever happens to you way that you’ve come to associated with Joel Miller. It’s the way of the world now, to a certain degree, but goddamn it if Joel didn’t take it to the next level. Always.

Even after it all, after Jason was dealt with and he’d told you you were square, you still didn’t know where you stood with Joel. If he liked you or hated you, or if he genuinely didn’t give a fuck.

But then earlier, before you’d crept inside the old warehouse in search of supplies, when you’d been knocked into the pavement by a runner and Joel had intervened, when he saw it was you, there was a moment. A glimmer of something, too quick to memorize but there long enough for your brain to fixate on it, to focus on, to dissect.

“It’s you,” was all he’d said, the pipe still buried in the runner’s face, using it as leverage to yank the limp body off of you. “I’ll be damned.”

“Joel fucking Miller,” you’d nearly gasped with relief, throwing your arms around his neck. He’d muttered something unintelligible, giving you a halfhearted squeeze around the waist. “Thank god.”

“Good to see you, girl.”

That had been the extent of the reunion. You were introduced to Ellie shortly after, and to Bill, Joel’s friend from a town over back in Boston. And Joel told you about Tess.

 Desperation had pushed you into the warehouse, all of you with growling stomachs and Bill with a bad arm injury. You’d used the last of your pain meds days back, and Joel had bandages, but it wouldn’t do much to ease his friend’s discomfort. When Ellie told you it’d been two days since they had anything to eat, you slipped her half a granola bar you had stashed, and you didn’t miss the way Joel looked at you sideways.

And now you’re inside, your back pressed to Joel’s front and his hand clamped over your mouth. You expect him to smell awful — and mostly, he does — but there’s something beneath it, something manly and comforting and strong.

So yes, you’re fucking distracted.

It’s a few hours before you get out of the warehouse, your arms aching from holding your rifle at the ready, shoulders screaming from the weight of your pack. It’s worth it, though — each of your bags is practically filled to burst with medical supplies, food scraps, what have you.

And the best of all: booze.

Bill had nearly cried when you stumbled on the box, your head cocking to the side when you heard the rattle of glass. The fact that it wasn’t shattered was already surprising, but when you flipped open the cardboard to reveal three intact bottles of good old Jack Daniels, even Joel had mumbled out his surprise.

You find a quiet alley outside the warehouse, hang around long enough for your stomachs to stop eating themselves, and for Bill to swig back most of one of the bottles of whiskey.

“Nature’s Tylenol,” he claims, and you and Ellie let out quiet giggles. Joel cracks a smile.

“Where y’all headed?” you ask, after an awkward silence settles over the group of you and you find yourself desperate to break it.

“That’s the elusive question, isn’t it?” Bill comments, and Joel scoffs. “Don’t suppose you’ve seen any car batteries laying around, have ya?”

Your brow furrows, Ellie laughs, and Bill throws his hands up, muttering under his breath and grabbing his shotgun and heading back for the street. “We going?” Ellie asks Joel, and he nods. “You should come,” she says to you, her eyes bright, tone inviting. It’s sweet. “It’d be nice to have another girl around.”

You laugh, punching her arm lightly, playful. But then you look at Joel, and the feeling withers slightly. “That all right with you?”

“Where’re you headed?”

You shrug a shoulder. “Nowhere fast.”

He lifts his chin, looking down his nose at you. “Well, may as well stay together. For tonight at least.”

“Okay,” you agree, and that’s that.

There’s a lot of walking, quiet conversation passed between you, recounting where you’ve been, what your plan (or lack there of) is, people from your and Joel’s briefly shared past. Bill leads the group of you, bottle dangling from his hand most of the way, and Ellie is a few feet behind, Joel falling into step beside you.

“Been a long time since I saw you,” he says gruffly. Your hands brush as you walk, and Joel flinches, making the space between you a little winder. “Since—”

“Jason,�� you finish, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “I never thanked you properly.”

“Ah,” he waves you off. “You don’t have to thank me for anythin’, girlie.”

Girlie. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Even back in Boston, when things were…rough, whenever you’d run into Joel, or Tess would bring you around for a job or something, it was always the same. Those dark eyes, occasionally crinkled at the corners, always giving you a once over. You knew what it was, in reality — he was checking you for bites, anything out of the ordinary, any trace of blood, and, once he knew what Jason really was, bruises. How you doin’, girlie? You eaten today, girlie? You feelin’ okay, girlie?

And after, when he and Tess had burst into your apartment back in Boston, seeing you beaten and bloody in the corner, Jason with reddened fists raised, a feral look in his eye. Not infected, just…awful.

Tess had yanked you to your feet and Joel had stood in front of the pair of you, blocking Jason’s path to you. “Back off.” It wasn’t a request. An order, delivered with a voice like hard steel and a raised gun levelled between Jason’s eyes.

It was a marriage of convenience, in every sense. And not a real marriage, not by a long shot. You’d met Jason somewhere between your hometown in Colorado and the camp in Boston, and it became a matter of survival. You kept his bed warm at night, and in return, he kept you protected, kept you alive. It wasn’t love, not really. Jason had his moments, but the bad started to outweigh the good. And the bruises came later.

Then they became too much.

You hung outside until the curfew reminders sounded, if you could manage it. Bouncing from friend to friend, trying to find odd jobs, asking Tess to find you something to do. You only went home when you got desperate, and more often than not, Jason was up waiting, ready to hurl insults and accusations the second you were through the door. His latest was that you were sleeping with other people, throwing yourself at anyone in camp who so much as glanced at you.

“I bet she’s fucking you too, isn’t she, Miller?” he half-screamed at Joel, waving his hands like a crazy person. Tess tucked you under her arm and you tried to wipe the blood from your face. “Fucking whore!”

He lunged for you and Joel laid him out flat, a gunshot echoing through the apartment. Through and through to his shoulder, the bullet leaving a hole in the wall, casing clattering to the floor. “I said, back off.”

Jason didn’t listen, blind with rage, pulling a switchblade from his pocket and trying to run at you again, ducking in an attempt to move around Joel, but it only made things worse.

The second shot would have gone through his shoulder again, another warning. He would have lived. But ducking put him level with the gun, and instead, it went through his forehead. Blood sprayed, you screamed and Tess shielded you, and his body hit the floor.

Joel put his gun away, gently took you from Tess. “Pack her things,” he said to her, his hands warm around your biceps as he held you up. “I’ll deal with this.”

Tess nodded, disappearing towards your bedroom, and your eyes were stuck on the body on the floor. “He’s gone.”

“He is,” Joel agreed, producing a bit of gauze from his pocket, dabbing at your split lip. “It’s okay, girlie. You’re safe now.”

You’d crumbled into him. Tess let you stay in her apartment a few days, but by the end of the week, you were gone.

“Where did you go?” Joel asks, the question yanking you out of your memories. “After.”

“Salem, for a while,” you answer, staring down at your boots. “Providence for a bit after that, then the plan was Washington, but here I am instead.”

“By yourself?”

You just nod.

He whistles. “I taught you well.”

He had. In the days after Jason and before your departure, most of your time had been spent with Joel. He taught you how to shoot every gun they could get their hands on, setting up target practice with tin cans behind one of the apartment blocks. Bow and arrow too, hand-to-hand combat, knives. You name it, if Joel knew how to use it, he was showing you how to do it too.

And his cardinal rule: never let go of your weapon, not if you can help it.

You nod again, lifting your elbow so it nudges him in the side. He’s gotten a little closer to you. “You did. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you, Joel.”

You swear he blushes.

Another couple hours of travel, and you find a farmhouse, mostly intact. A few smashed windows, sure, but it’s secure enough, far enough from the main roads that you’re not worried about stragglers. Bill and Joel clear the house out first, you and Ellie keeping watch by the road.

“Did you and Joel used to date?” she asks, blunt as anything, while you’re sharing a bottle of water, which you nearly spit out.

“W-what?” You wipe your face, feeling your cheeks heat. “What makes you say that?”

“He looks at you,” she says, shrugging a shoulder, “when you’re not looking at him. Like he thinks you’re gonna disappear or something.”

You choke on a laugh, waving her off. “You’re imagining things, kid.”

“Am not!”

The men emerge from the house then, waving you both in. They’ve set up a barricade of sorts in the living room, a few lanterns lit either side of the pile of blankets stacked on the floor. It’s not a real mattress by any stretch, but it’ll do.

“Gonna go build a fire out back,” Joel announces as you all get comfortable, a slim sense of safety settling over you. “I’ll take first watch.”

He disappears out the sliding door, and you watch until he disappears into the dark. A few minutes later, there’s a spark of light, then another and another, until the orange glow of a fire seeps back towards the house.

Ellie settles down completely, reading a few pages of her comic book before she’s passed out completely. You fold her comic up carefully, pulling one of the blankets over her. You try and get some sleep, tossing and turning for a few hours, but it’s no use. Your eyes keep moving to the sliding door, to the outline of Joel sitting at the fire. Finally, you give up, and get up. Bill is sprawled on the couch, his bottle of Jack cradled against him. You just laugh, pulling your own bottle from your bag and heading outside.

Joel’s fire is impressive, licking up towards the sky, embers crackling into the night as you approach. There’s a fallen log stretched across the ground, Joel sat in the centre of it, staring into the flames. Your foot snaps a twig as you get closer and he’s on his feet immediately, reaching for his gun. But he stops when he sees it’s you, and grunts.

“Sorry,” you say, lifting your hands. “Should have announced myself.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ should have,” he agrees angrily, sinking back onto the log.

“Easy,” you lift the bottle of whiskey. “I come bearing gifts.”

His brow hardens at you. “Fine.”

You take a seat beside him and crack open the bottle. It’s a familiar burn on the way down, a strangely memorable taste that makes you feel like a teenager again, stealing liquor from your parents’ cabinet and sneaking off to parties. It feels like a million years ago.

It’s quiet, at first, the pair of you just passing the bottle back and forth, back and forth. The fire dies slightly at some point, and Joel tosses a capful towards the logs, making you jump when the flames jump high for a split second. “They teach you that in boy scouts?” you ask.

He barks a laugh. That angry tone still sits in his voice, but you can tell it’s starting to break. “I was not a fuckin’ boy scout.”

“I find that very hard to believe, Joel Miller.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Oh, that’s mature.”

A long silence. You swig from the bottle and hand it to him. You’re pressed close to him on the log, trying to steal some of his warmth, your bodies touching from shoulder to hip.

Whiskey gives you a loose tongue. “What do you miss the most?”

He doesn’t answer, his brow turning to hard line on his forehead. He swigs from the bottle again. “That’s a loaded question as any, girlie.”

“I miss getting mail,” you roll over his comment. “Hell, I even miss bills. Oh, and fuzzy slippers. I used to have some that looked like turtles, it was so funny. Don’t get comfortable enough anywhere to even think about taking my shoes off, let alone wearing slippers.”

He laughs again, and the anger is gone. Success. “Turtles, huh?”

“Turtles,” you agree, grinning. “C’mon, tell me, Joel. What do you miss most? From the old days. From the normal days.”

He thinks about it. You can see it on his face, the way his brow pinches, eyes bright with something besides the firelight. The bottle dangles from his fingers; it’s nearly empty. “We need a lot more than one bottle of Jack for me to answer that.”

You roll your eyes. “Come on, I told you mine.”

“I’m not talkin’ about slippers and snail mail, girl. A lot of shit has happened since I last saw you, and even before that, you don’t know my whole story, all right? So don’t fuckin’ pry.”

“Damn,” you breathe out, stunned silence settling over you. He drinks the last of the bottle, and it’s a few minutes before you speak again, the crackling of the fire filling the quiet between you. “I know you’ve been through a lot, Joel. We’ve all been through a fucking lot, okay? So fucking forgive me for wanting to make sure you’re okay.” Sighing, you get to your feet, moving to walk around the fire. 

“Listen,” he says, catching your arm as he gets up, moving closer to you as while you’re stepping away from him. “I don’t need you worryin’ about me or checkin’ up on me or anything like that, you hear? That’s not your—”

“Burden to bear?” you finish, quirking a brow, and Joel just stares at you, dark eyes widening like he’s shocked by your answer. “I know I don’t have to, Joel. That’s not why I do it.”

“You’re not listen—”

You grab him by the front of his shirt, fingers curling into worn flannel, dragging him close until you’re nearly chest to chest. There’s a pause, a complete stillness that washes over both of you for a second, his lips parted and yours following suit. Then it’s the scrape of his beard against your skin, biting at your cheeks and chin. He tastes like whiskey, something harsh that slides down your throat, something harsher that you know is just the taste of Joel.

There’s nothing soft about it. Hesitant, sure, but there’s no gentleness, nothing romantic about the way he kisses. It’s intense, his mouth devouring your own, drinking you down in every sense. His tongue dives past your teeth, curling along the roof of your mouth, and you can’t help but gasp back into him, toes curling in your boots as you lean up, desperate to get closer to him, to have him nearer, to feel his warmth as surely as you feel your own.

The fire crackles behind you, the whiskey bottle empty and discarded beside the log you’d been occupying. He finally moves, one hand finding your hip beneath your sweater, the other reaching back and curling in your ponytail, wrapping the length of it around his wrist. He tugs lightly, prickles of tension shooting along your scalp, and you let your own hands dip, sliding right up the hem of his flannel until your palms are splayed on bare skin. You can feel the heave of his breaths against your hands, the racket of his heart against his ribs.

Behind you, someone clears their throat, and you both snap apart like a sprung trap, Joel instantly turning away towards the fire, hands on his hips, while you stumble back a step, covering your mouth with one hand, trying to quell your rapid breaths and aching core.

“Just comin’ to take my watch,” Bill says, eyeing you both. His own bottle of whiskey is at his hip, shotgun cocked over his shoulder, a large machete hanging from his belt. “You two go get some shut-eye.” He brushes past Joel, clapping him on the shoulder as he goes. “Or somethin’.”

You both stand there a moment, shell-shocked, as Bill takes his seat at the fire. In the direction he came, the house glows from the inside, the camping lanterns still lit in the living room. Ellie’s asleep there, you know, and as Joel takes a step, intent on brushing past you, his cheeks bright red even in the darkness, you catch his arm.

“Meet me in the bathroom,” you say. It’s bold, and he freezes, staring down at your hand on his arm for a long moment before his eyes flick up to your face.

“I’m not what you need.” The words are gruff, his brow going hard again, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Cut the shit,” you say, shaking your head. “Now you’re the one not listening.”

Before he can get another word out, you turn on your heel and stomp back to the house. You don’t look back, don’t check to see if he’s following you or not. The sliding door squeaks as you slip inside, and sure enough, you catch sight of Ellie, still asleep, her eyes fluttering with dreams. You don’t want to disturb her.

You almost leave your gun on the kitchen counter as you make your way to the bathroom, but then Joel’s voice echoes in your mind. Never let go of your weapon, not if you can help it. So you don’t, leaving it tucked in your waistband until you’re in the bathroom, letting the door click quietly shut behind you.

It’s dark, save for a sliver of moonlight coming in through the mostly-shattered window. You take stock, ignoring the cracked floor and broken toilet. It’s surprisingly clean, given the state of things, Under the expected later of dust and grime, there’s nothing too unseemly. There’s an empty toilet paper roll still on the holder, a home improvement magazine on the back of the toilet. You turn, pushing a hand through your hair, pulling it loose of the ponytail, and inspect the sink.

The faucet is broken, handles missing and the spout off-kilter. The mirror above is broken, spidering out from a single contact point, like someone punched the glass. Your own reflection still peers back at you, fractured and disfigured. Something about it makes your chest hurt, and you rub a hand across your collarbone.

Just when you’re about to give up, convinced that he’s not coming, the door creaks open. Just a crack, just enough for you to see half his face in the opening it leaves. His gaze is still dark, but his brow is less furrowed, and he’s chewing at the inside of his lip.

Silently, he steps inside, pulls the door shut behind him. You’re leaning against the counter, your hands hooked over the particleboard. He stands in front of you, about a foot of space between you, and stares at your feet.

“It’s not that I don’t want this,” he says, his voice so low and gravelly you almost have to strain your ears to hear. “It’s not that I don’t want you. Fuck, I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you, back in Boston, when that fuck-head was still around. Wanted you back then, want you now, it hasn’t changed.” He inches forward, closing the distance slightly. “But this?” He gestures towards the door — towards Ellie, Bill, the fire outside, the world. “This is much bigger than us. And I can’t—”

“I’m not another thing for you to take care of, Joel,” you murmur, and reach back, pulling your gun out of your waistband, setting it on the counter. “I can handle myself. You taught me how.” His throat bobs. “And you’re right; it’s all so much bigger than us. I’m not an idiot, I’m not gonna stand in your way or make myself a liability. I know the drill. But it doesn’t matter right now.”

You reach up then, pinching the zipper of your sweater, meeting his eyes as you drag it down, ever so slow. His gaze drops from yours only to watch the path, watch the way it falls open once the zipper is undone, revealing your chest and stomach, the black line of your bra, the few scars you’ve gathered over the years.

“This—”

“Stop thinking, Joel,” you tell him, and reach for his hand, pulling it towards you, letting his calloused palm cup the curve of your breast. “Just for tonight.”

“Fuck it,” he grumbles, and then he’s on you. You thought the kiss at the fire was rough, but this is something else entirely. He’s…touch-starved, you realize, with the way he gropes at you, tipping his face into yours while his hands roam every inch of bare skin they can reach. He sighs into your mouth when you let your sweater drop further, the material sliding off your shoulders and down your arms, pooling at your wrists. How long as it been, you wonder distantly, since he touched someone else? Since someone else touched him?

Discarding your sweater, you reach up, working the buttons on his flannel, one by one until his chest is visible, scarred and golden, a light dusting of hair between his pecs. You drag your hand down it, right from the hollow of his throat, riding the soft curve of his stomach until you can hook your fingers into the waistband of his jeans, tugging him closer to you.

Joel looks down as you reach for his belt, unbuckling it quickly, the clinking sound of metal reaching your ears. He’s nearly panting, one hand curled around the side of your neck, the other braced on the wall beside you. You push your face into his neck, pressing your mouth to his jaw as you work his zipper, sticking your hand right down his pants, under the elastic of his boxers.

He’s big. Big and thick and hard as a fucking rock, hips bucking harshly into your hand the moment you close your fingers around him. “So fuckin’ soft,” he breathes out, and you stroke him once, curving your palm over the tip of his cock, the precum that’s gathered there easing your way as you move back down to his base. “Fuckin’ hell, girlie.”

You have the sense to check the ground before you sink to your knees, making sure there’s no shards of glass or anything sharp before you get down, cushioning yourself on his boots. His hands move, both diving into your hair, curling strands around his knuckles, tugging like he had at the fire. It sets your whole body aflame, and you don’t waste any time, pulling his boxers down and taking him into your mouth, swallowing his cock all the way down, groaning as you do it. The tip of him hits the back of your throat and he bucks forward, thrusting into your mouth. It makes your throat jump, but you bite back the gag, digging your nails into the meat of his ass as you pull back, bobbing your head, curling your tongue around him.

He’s watching you; you can feel it. You tip your head back slightly, cock still pressed between your lips, pulling off of him completely with a quiet pop, letting the tip rest against your lips. He just stares down at you, gaze hard as he is, brows pinched as he watches. Slowly, you open your mouth, the head of his cock brushing past your top lip, giving him just the slightest bit of teeth as you take him again. It makes him groan, the sound rumbling through his whole body, one hand smacking against the wall.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he spits out, and before you can move any further, he’s pushing you back, grabbing your bicep and yanking you back up. “Not gonna last if you keep that shit up.”

He kisses you again, possessive and intense, pouring himself into you as he bites at your lip, rides the line of your jaw, closes his mouth around your pulse and sucks a bruise. A reminder, you think; tomorrow, once this is all over, it’ll just be a memory, and the mark on your skin will be all that remains.

Your leggings are shoved down, the seams groaning in protest, and his hand dives into your underwear,  rubbing along your folds, moaning into your mouth when he finds how wet you are. “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he grumbles into you, and you can’t help but grin, curling your arm around his shoulders as he crowds you backwards against the counter again. “Pretty little thing.”

Before you can even blink, he’s crouching, tearing your boots off your feet and yanking your pants further down. He shrugs off his flannel then, letting it join the growing pile of clothing on the ground. As he makes his way back up to stand, he pauses, curls his hand around your calf, just below your knee. Everything in you goes tight as a fucking bowstring as he leans in, presses an open-mouthed kiss to the hinge of your leg, letting his lips linger before he’s moving back up, capturing your mouth again, the hand not on your leg diving into your hair, keeping your face against his.

He steps between the bracket of your legs, his hips finding a home against yours. You can feel him, hot and heavy and making you ache, the length of him pressed to your dripping cunt. It’s too much, it’s not enough, you might explode if you don’t feel him now.

You whine into his mouth, and Joel pulls back, the corner of his mouth ticking in a grin. “Somethin’ you need, girlie?”

You just whine again, pushing your hips against him, trying to chase the feeling that’s building, desperate for any kind of friction you can get. “Joel, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he mutters.

Then he’s inside you.

And it’s fucking earth-shattering.

You can feel every inch of his cock, every ridge and vein as he pushes inside you. He keeps a tight grip on your hair, panting into your mouth as he sinks to the hilt. He’s cursing under his breath the whole way, eyes flicking from yours down to where your bodies are joined and back up again.

“Wanted you for so fuckin’ long,” he breathes out, starting to roll his hips, giving you slow thrusts that only make the ache in you bubble further. Your own hands find his ribs, nails scratching over bare skin and scars. He feels so good. “So fuckin’ long, girlie. You don’t even know. You don’t even—”

His next thrust is harder, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the small space, and you both freeze. There’s no such thing as privacy out here anymore, and you don’t want to wake Ellie. But Joel keeps talking, babbling almost, the words grunted.

You bite your lip, and clamp one hand over his mouth.

His eyes flare for a moment, but you’re careful to leave his nose unblocked, his hot breath pouring over your knuckles. He’s still talking, but the words are muffled now, caught against your palm. His teeth nip, but you don’t care. The pace slows slightly, his grip on your hip tighter as he drives his cock into you. Your eyes want to roll back, but you do your best to keep them trained on Joel’s face.

You just wanna see him fall apart.

It doesn’t take long, his orgasm rumbling through his body. He pulls out of you at the last second, thrusts his cock into the spot where your thigh meets your hip, paints your body with his pleasure. Something feral in you wishes he’d cum inside, had covered your insides with him, but you know that’s not practical. It’s not smart.

Once his breathing has returned to normal, you let go, your hand dropping from his mouth, fingers glancing over his lip before it drops back to his side. Before you can make a move, he shoves two fingers deep in your cunt, curling them against something that makes your eyes roll back and you collapse against him, your pleasure cresting high, something akin to relief flooding through you.

“Didn’t think I was gonna leave you hangin’, did ya?” he growls in your ear. A high-pitched moan falls out of you, and Joel rips your head back, covering your mouth with his so he can swallow down your noises. “Good girl,” he says into you as the pleasure rips through you, your limbs electric and static and your whole body going weightless. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Both back down on solid ground, something has changed. You know it. You can see it. His gaze isn’t as hard as he finds something to clean his cum from your leg. He kisses you as he helps your sweater back up your arms, pinches the zipper and drags it up, leans in to peck your collarbone before it’s covered by the fabric. You help each other get dressed, dipping a hand down the back of his boxers to squeeze his ass before you yank on his belt buckle. And once you’re both fully clothed, Joel grabs your face, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and kisses you slow.

Slow, slow, slow. The complete opposite of the kiss by the fire, of the second one that had sparked your wild fuck. It takes you aback, your body curving into his when his other palm settles in the small of your back and pushes you towards him.

Bill is still sitting watch by the fire when you emerge from the bathroom, and Ellie is still dead asleep, thankfully.

“We should actually get some shut-eye,” Joel mumbles, and you just nod, the weight of the day and the exertion catching up with you. “C’mon.”

You lay out on the blanket next to Ellie, putting yourself between her and Joel as he lies beside you. He fights with a blanket; you’re expecting him to drape it over you — and he does — but you’re not expecting him to slide close to you beneath it, fitting himself against your back.

“I’m gonna leave in the morning,” you whisper after a few minutes, and Joel goes stock-still behind you.

“What?”

“This was just for tonight,” you say, and slowly turn to face him. “You said so yourself.”

His arm is slung over your hips, and his fingers curl in the back of your sweater, like he’s trying to keep you in place. Something in his face flickers, and Ellie’s words from earlier echo in your mind. Like he thinks you’re gonna disappear or something. “I know what I said,” he murmurs, but says nothing further.

“Joel,” you whisper, stretching up until your lips just brush against his. His arm moves up, hand cups your cheek again. “Ask me to stay. Say it.”

“I can’t—” he starts, but cuts himself off, nose dragging along yours as he heaves a breath. “Stay, girlie. Please. Stay with me.”

You just nod.

—————

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[harlequinchaos]

Tears of the Kingdom tips for surviving the new economy and whatnot, under the cut (in case of spoilers)

Adventuring Tip: STEALTH IS YOUR FRIEND

Once you get to Kakariko Village you can buy the Stealth Suit (Highly recommend doing the connected sidequest to bring the cost of the shop down). This makes it so you can walk up to fish, bugs, and creatures without them running away (if you sprint they'll still run) this is AMAZING for collecting these things as everything seems way more sparse in totk. No more chasing frogs for you my friend.

Food Tip: Critical Meals

Cooking between 11:30pm-12:00pm on the night of a blood moon gives you:

+3 hearts recovered to your dish

+1 level to whatever effect is present in your dish

+5:00 duration to the effect

Rupee Tip: Go Spelunking!

One of the biggest features in totk are the new caves systems that are literally everywhere. Oftentimes you'll find ore deposits and rare ore deposits and find Amber, Opal, Rubies, Sapphires and Topazes. Sell them for cash (I recommend saving sapphires, see below). If you see a wall of breakable rocks, usually it will drop rusty claymores and rocks for you to make more crude hammers. But a bomb flower or zonai time bomb work too (DON'T BLOW YOURSELF UP). Additionally, a cave will be marked with a ✔️ once you kill the bubblfrog inside.

Battle tip: Ice is OP.

Frozen enemies take double damage from your next hit, so try to always have a Magic Rod/Scepter with a sapphire fused to it, fusing a sapphire to a regular weapon works as well, but you're not aiming to hit the enemy with the source of the ice. Freeze > pause and switch to your strongest weapon> hit the enemy > switch back to your ice weapon > repeat to stunlock the enemy, works on everything that isn't a Lynel or Boss. Using Ice Fruit or Blue Chuchu jelly works too, but stuff is more rare in this game.

Relatively Easy Rupees:

You'll need:

-Bow & arrows (the stronger the bow the better)

-Sheild (for sheild surfing)

-Cold Resistance Armor (to survive)

-Speedy Elixir (optional, but it'll REALLY help)

-Access to Snowfield Stable (Hebra Region)

What you're gonna be doing is big game hunting in the snowy field north of the stable. All winter animals are capable of dropping Raw Gourmet Meat which is the best quality, including moose, the bears and the wolves. Sheild surf to get around quicker and then go for headshots with a bow and just hunt the animals for their meat. You'll want the speedy Elixir because you have to be pretty quick between the meat dropping and freezing. Once it's frozen it counts as a meal, but you literally get hundreds of rupees by selling 5 Raw Gourmet Meats cooked together.

Item Management: Brightbloom Mushrooms are the new Apples:

Going off of the previous tip of exploring the cave systems, you'll find Brightbloom Mushrooms almost more than anything else. Eventually you'll want to stop collecting them, but they're the perfect source of quick food fodder. Just cook a bunch together for quick hearts (and the glow effect which is nice in caves).

Advanced Combat Tip: Muddlebuds

If you've been to The Depths, one of the native plants are the Muddlebuds. These make it so enemies will attack each other when thrown (or attached to an arrow). I recommend wearing the stealth gear, sneaking up to a pack or finding a vantage point, and hitting the strongest enemy in the group with a muddlebud arrow. It'll start to attack it's allies, allowing you to sit back and enjoy the show. Note: enemies will still target you if they see you (hence the stealth/vantage point)

These are just a few tips, feel free to add more, and try not to be too spoilery for people who haven't played or haven't gotten far yet!

[elderemorune]

Beautiful IF.

This evening, my wife and I went to see a movie. This isn't anything unusual, we love the theater, and will take any excuse we can to go when she has time. Last we were able to get out just the two of us, it was to see Lisa Frankenstein, which I wholly recommend by the way. It was great, feminist as fuck, and frankly (see what I did) fun as hell.

But that's not why I'm here tonight.

Tonight, we're here for John Krasinski's IF.

IF is a movie that's part of a rare genre. The Family Film. You know, the kind that came out when millennials were children, like The Addams Family, or Hocus Pocus. A movie made for everyone to enjoy.

Now this is probably confirmation bias, since most of the fandoms I'm in are serious business, or at least they think they are, and such most of what I watch is grim, dark, or otherwise edgy. I won't deny being an edge marquis, I've been one since middle school and I'm not stopping now!

This movie, simply put, is beautiful. As we start to see more and more art about fighting (or subliminally supporting) fascism, it's like we shy away from beauty and instead want to focus wholly on how dark things are for us. And with a constant barrage of messaging like that, it's hard to stay hopeful, easy to stay mad.

Then we get a movie like IF. It takes a look at life through the most hopeful lens it can, a kid's. I don't want to get too into the story because my roommate reads this and I want them to see this as blindly as they can, but I'll tell you this: IF wants you to know that it's okay to be a kid.

But what does that mean? To be a kid? Is it to engage in wild flights of fancy where you imagine great, impossible things like an elephant made of cotton candy? Is it using play to cope with hard times? To be innocent? What is innocence anyway?

IF isn't trying to answer those questions at all. All IF cares about is that you know that it's okay to be a kid, no matter what.

For a super spoiler-free quick rundown, IF follows the adventures of Bea as she tries to help place imaginary friends (IFs) with new kids and find a new sense of purpose. Imagine (heh) Foster's Home for Imaginary (heh) Friends, but age Mac up a year and have her partner be a big furry purple guy (Hey! Like Eduardo!) named... Blue? Is this possibly an... GASP! AN EASTER EGG RIGHT THERE?! The big difference is that imaginary friends can't really be seen by anyone, except Bea and this other guy, Calvin. We'll talk about him later.

So let's talk about the rest of the movie, because there's not much more I can say without spoilers.

Just look at this man. He's distinct. You know EXACTLY what he's about, who he is, everything you need, just from looking at him.

And the same holds true of every other IF that you see (and don't) on screen. The team that worked on them did an immaculate job, perfectly capturing a child's imagination and how they see the world around them in these funny lil guys. Like how Blue is purple because his kid was colorblind, so he looked blue TO HIS KID, and how the robot IF was the kind of thing that a kid fond of taking things apart might imagine as their friend. Their personalities are all so clear, and when they're on screen they really steal the show.

Speaking of theft, let's talk the casting. Cailey Fleming plays Bea and gosh is her performance just the tops. Her first onscreen part was as young Rey in Star Wars: The Force Awakens (which I didn't watch because I just don't care much for Star Wars). This is the first place I've seen her work, and I one hundred percent believed she was actually John Krasinski's daughter.

Who, by the way, plays her dad. A lovable goofball who tries to find the fun in everything, he's sick (though we're never told with what) and is in New York for surgery. It's a big one, apparently, and there's a chance he won't wake up from the anesthesia, but he's determined to make it through. Really, what can I say about Krasinski's acting that fans of The Office haven't already said? This guy is the kind of dad I want to be when I eventually have kids.

Steve Carell voices Blue, the big purple IF on the poster. Sure, I guess if I had A critique of this movie, it's that it's another Steve Carell Funny Voice(TM) but fuck off, I had fun and it was clear he loved the project. I loved Blue, I thought he was funny and so sweet, and he was just so goddamned lovable that I genuinely had no notes.

Last, and he'd probably say least, Ryan Reynolds plays Calvin, a very handsome gentleman who can also see the IFs like Bea can. He started the effort to rehome IFs with new kids, but hasn't had much success at the time the movie starts. He's a bit of a curmudgeon, pessimistic that anything they do will work, and refers to his ability to see them as a curse, but he still does everything he can to help Bea place IFs in new homes. While still your typical wise-cracking Ryan Reynolds character, it was interesting to see him playing a character who's not about diving into things headfirst, instead giving us a more timid person who would really rather be asleep.

The cast all worked exceptionally well together. As I said, I came out of this movie truly believing that Fleming was Krasinski's daughter, and the chemistry between her and Reynolds was amazing. They really felt like friends, and I never once felt like their relationship was weird in any way. Carell and Fleming were also delightful together, with Blue serving as wonderful comedy relief.

Lastly, I guess is the score, right? I'm new to caring about this, so forgive me if I forget an important part.

Music was done by Michael Giacchino, who's score was frankly perfect. He captured the vibe perfectly, and I can honestly think of no higher praise for a film score. In particular, there was a scene that really hit me, and if the Adagio of Spartacus and Phrygia hadn't been the song used, I'm not sure I'd have cried near as hard.

So that's it. IF. A beautiful movie, a poignant message, and something that I think everyone could benefit from seeing.

Because what IF it's right? And it IS okay to be a kid?

That means anything is possible, doesn't it? What IF you COULD have a cotton candy elephant? Or a small army of Bionicle robots who are fiercely loyal to you as you lead them across Mata Nui to expunge the darkness? (Don't tell me you didn't do this. If you had Bionicle, you did this.)

What IF?

[brainlessbaguette]

Okay I'm doing a Fionna and Cake ep 2 ramble, because there is so much Finn slander rn and after binging all of Adventure Time I'm losing my marbles over this.

So heavy spoilers below

This is probs gonna be a mess and idc if nobody reads this, I just want to chuck my feelings into the void of the internet.

First and foremost I genuinely DO NOT believe Finn is using Jake's kids to replace Jake. Finn has always been very extroverted and has been shown to have separation and abandonment issues (remember how fast he freaked when fern ditched him or how weird finn sword started acting after grass sword shattered it, and just Martin). It makes sense for his character that'd he'd continue adventuring with other friends and family after Jake. We also have to remember PB and Marcie are out being together, so while I'm sure they still hang out its not as much as it used to be. I genuinely see him turning to his remaining family to see if they want to tag along. Like I could 100% be wrong, but I feel if he was using Jake's kids he would've pushed more to get TV to follow them, but instead he just asked once and then just accepted/respected TV's decision to dip.

Okay now Simon and Finn are both grieving, and neither of them are dealing with it well. Finn has clearly emotionally regressed a bit and is struggling with the loss of Jake. There were numerous times where Jake showed to be really cool with death and Finn not at all be cool with Jake dying. I wouldn't be surpirised if they never really made any progress with that problem, again pretty sure Finn has abandonment issues, so its very easy to see Jake's passing setting him back years in emotional growth. But people have been saying things like "Finn's being ignorant to Simons feelings" "He's in complete denial" "He needs to learn to be a better friend" "He's lost all of the character growth he had in the show" and I cannot deal with this. These comments are the reason I'm making this because shenanigans.

A quick play by play of the very important interaction that people seem to gloss over.

Finn meets up with Simon starting to lose his shit in the bar over Fionna and Cake. He immediately tries to calm him down and Simon freaks out a little more. Finn acknowledges this isn't about the stories and gently asks him whats wrong. Simon proceeds to tell him while clearly having a breakdown, Finn tries to calm him down and even tells him he's sorry. Presumably a "I'm sorry your feeling this way." Simon then admits some really heavy stuff and at this point Finn realizes hes way out of his comfort zone and asks if he's talked to Marcie, i.e. the person that would be able to provide more/better support. Simon brushes that off, Finn basically hits him with a "there's so much more to live for" and Simon says some even darker things, Finn looks around for help, and at this point decides to play the distraction card.

Thats still our boy! Hes damaged but not completely emotionally unaware. He also knew his limits, he looked for help when things got dark and then began to try some stuff that helped him. Like honestly if a friend was saying some of the things Simon was to me and I had no backup I'd also play the distraction card. Were they good distractions? No, not for Simon. But he was genuinely trying. He's not happy but he's staying cheery to try and get Simon in a better place. He also isn't intentionally forcing Simon to go with him, and takes him home as soon as he expresses that he's done.

Its a mess, they're a mess and are absolutley not the ones to help each other. The blindfolds in the forest or "the blind leading the blind" is the perfect expression for what this trainwreck is. They both need outside help and I think thats what we're going to see in this show. This was the first two episodes that set the stage. I imagine there will be a "Finn Mertens" episode, so like lets chill out and cut our boy some slack, at least until we see the whole story, he genuinely tried. Honestly, having just rewatched the whole show, I have a fair bit of faith in the writing team, I highly doubt they'd butcher Finn's character like that.

Anyway I'm loving this show so far, just bugged by some of the hot takes to come out of it. This is all my opinions, so I guess my hot takes? But I just wanted to stand up for the boy.

Also also, people better not be blaming Marcie for being neglectful. Shes barely been seen yet, and currently has no idea whats happening. Give it a bit.

I'm also under the impression Finn's got a separate arm for adventuring, soley because getting another major injury off camera is just kinda out of charcter for the show. But Idk maybe they're just trying something new.

[theonemarvelousness]

Second [Book 7 Spoilers]

It is when the opportunity arises that the young prince escapes the Wild Rose Castle to the wood. His dearest teacher's cabin lays within the thicket, as far from home he's ever gone on his own (and really, the only place he can go alone).

The excitement, the thrill that builds in Malleus's chest thrums almost wildly as he manages to slip the guards, and make his way down the familiar twists and turns. How he can see the world up close that is normally through open windows, or closed. If he's lucky, beside a gargoyle before someone sees.

The birds twitter in the distance, the scampering of woodland creatures greet his ears. The smile? He can't suppress it. Lilia's return whispers through the halls! How can he wait to hear of the wonderful adventures he went on? To lands that are only pictures in books and woven tales? Places so far beyond the Valley's reach, across the great oceans surrounding them!

His steps give pause as the sounds of humming reach his ears. That's...

Different.

"There, there, eat up, little one." The soft, crooning voice. It... it is Lilia's, but has he ever heard it?

A laugh; and soon the sound of something else. A strange, squelching sound.

Now he approaches with cautious footfalls.

He's about at the cabin door--"Ah, Malleus." Lilia's voice comes from inside, "Come in."

Taking the invitation, the fae prince opens the door. Coming inside to the mess of a cabin that his teacher keeps. Stuffed full with things, cluttered as he likes it--the opposite of the strict neatness he demands. But it isn't that which catches his attention, it's...

The sleeping bundle in Lilia's arms.

A babe. A human babe.

And stranger still, this adoring look on his teacher's face.

---

When Malleus arrives, Silver stands, asleep. The child is now four. Lilia has gone off more frequently with his adopted son in tow, trying to unravel the mystery of his strange lure to slumber. As a babe, it wasn't known until the then-toddler slept so strangely that someone pointed it out (the Zigvolts, if Malleus recalls). Then, started the General's quest to discover the cause. Thus far? None.

"Silver." A firm tone to rouse him.

Aural eyes open. The pure jewels one might pluck for display at their rare color. "Ah! Mawwe!" He blinks several times, and resumes his task of folding the sheet he had in his hands.

That he still has that childish lisp surprises him. Memories of long hours to fix and pronounce things properly when he still toddled around like that flit through his memory.

Before he could always keep his tail, wings, and scales under wraps. That was next.

"Ah, there you are Malleus." Lilia greets with a smile. "I'm making dinner! You should stay for a bowl~ It's quite a nice stew..."

"I mean not to impose." A quick, polite refusal. "My visit is brief."

"Oh?" Lilia's blood red gaze looks over him curiously. "What are you out for today, then?"

"We are out of dawn dew drops." The flower's name is easy off his tongue. "It is faster to collect it myself rather than wait."

"Good, a head start on your lesson." A nod of approval. "One must learn to cultivate things on their own as well. Being able to appropriately identify and prepare ingredients is of high use."

There's a warmth in his chest at the approval.

Lilia bends down, scooping up the four-year-old in his arms. The brightest smile on his face. "Come, Silver, you can finish that after dinner~"

Malleus nods his head in parting, before heading off. The blooms are close...

But what a difference... when was he allowed to finish an immediate task, later?

---

The high score on his paper isn't perfect. Malleus frowns at it again; he has many points of contention with the historical records kept by humans. It shows in his essay grades for Trein's classes. He has more than once had to bring in a personal book to prove his point and perspective. This must be one of those times.

The comments in red are of an attached sheet, referenced in their textbook, which was wholly incorrect. A deeper frown graces his lips.

Silver takes the seat nearby. A similar frown to his features. It's rare to see him so unsettled. The flipped-over page glances quite the low mark. Ah.

Lilia stops between them. "What's wrong with both of you...? Oh?" He's glancing between their papers, but stops on Silver first. "You fell asleep? Well, that does happen." A hand gentle pats Silver's shining locks. He is aptly named. "Go talk to Trein for a make-up portion to finish, we all know you can't help your sleep spells." There's a glance around, before pressing a kiss to his temple. "Don't be so discouraged, you've always perked up and made it through when it matters most."

"Thank you, fa--Lilia." It seems to lift him.

Then, the old fae leans over. "Hmm... that's disappointing."

It's like a knife to his heart.

"It is another disagreement. I will procure the tome to argue my points in the morning." He replies, clipped and easy.

"Well, fair enough then, Malleus." A nod. "Humans do have such a unique perspective on history..."

It throbs.

---

Blot crystals scatter around him. The sleeping forms of students around; the thorns woven around. Blooming dark roses...

And there's Lilia, clutching to Silver, to protect him...

Slowly, he takes a seat beside the sleeping pair. A hand reaches out, to brush away Lilia's bangs. He looks at peace, and that is the point. To give them the sweetest dreams while...

"Why have I never been enough, Lilia?" The bar has always moved forward. There might be a moment of satisfaction, but that's about it. There has never been that sweet, tender care that he sees right now.

"Second to a human child..." A murmur.

His hand moves, brushing over Silver's open, vulnerable throat.

Why not?

Why not...

Claws press a moment. Slow, careful. It's a consideration. Easy.

Yet he doesn't. Malleus's hand retreats, the King of the Abyss fights the urge. No, no. No.

This is not the way at all.

But wasn't it tempting?

A glance back to the Phantom, tugging it along as he resumes his work. There's far much more to be done.

[herrscherofmagic]

(spoiler-free discussion of HI3rd Part 2)

So I finally got to catch up w/ the previous chapter (moon shenanigans w/ Helia & Coralie) and dove right into HI3rd Part 2's release- and I've gotta say, I'm actually enjoying it quite a bit so far!

*Quick disclaimer, I'm playing with CN voices, and the voice acting of a character can really influence a person's perception of them, so keep that in mind

So far each of the main cast we've met so far has been fairly likeable. I was unsure what Sena was gonna be like but so far she fits in quite well. She's got the same bubbly personality as Ely and March, but she has neither the pushy-ness that Ely has nor the snark March has. So she's definitely reminiscent of both of them but still feels like her own person, and since we literally just met her there's gonna be plenty of time for her character to develop.

Also really enjoyed the interactions with Helia and Coralie, it's clear that they're not super besties like Kiana & Mei but they're certainly close as comrades and I'd like to see how their dynamic develops! I'm looking forward to new battlesuits for them someday and I really hope Mihoyo follows through on that idea. I'd love to see how their adventures in the Sea of Data shape their world-view as they're challenged by things that Schicksal's Valk training never could've prepared them for.

and Dreamseeker was quite nice, too! They're not a silent protag, though of course the quasi-self-insert thing does make it a bit more awkward than usual. But overall their presence doesn't really affect the story in a negative way so that's no concern at all, and they contribute to the team a fair bit in terms of both knowledge/wisdom as well as how they interact with other characters and move the conversation forward. They're not super bubbly nor are they cold, they're just ordinary in a charming way, if that makes sense?

and then Songque... ooooohhh lord she was a LOT more than I bargained for in so many ways. in a good way, I think? >.> either way, not gonna say much about her because I don't even know how to begin describing her. I just wasn't expecting her to be so... lively. Like, crazy energetic, in a very controlled-chaos sorta way.

Also in terms of worldbuilding/lore I think it's been handled quite well. It doesn't rely on obscure knowledge from Part 1, i.e. not technobabble-heavy, but if you're familiar with stuff like the workings of the Sea of Quanta then it's easy to see how things are working behind the scenes.

It's a super fascinating concept for a setting and I really like the juxtaposition of past/present as well as how the story seems to fully embrace the chaotic nature of the Sea of Quanta, giving us really strange and unusual sights and writing characters who are born into this strange reality and take it for granted.

Oh. and the new music. pretty good so far! it's nothing at the level of Genshin but that's a really high bar to pass anyways. For HI3rd's standards it's solid work and enjoyable enough to listen to while playing the story & fighting. I have a lot of other thoughts about HI3rd's music as a whole but that's a whoooole other story lol

so yeah. Part 2 released, and HI3rd didn't suddenly combust into flames and explode. So far so good, hard to say how it'll change going forward but there's not much of a point in worrying about that yet. My only regeret is I had to skip 2/3rds of the Fu Hua arc for this because of issues w/ my schedule and how busy I've been, but I think it was the right call cause I'm really looking forward to the new Part 2 story, both main story & side content!

[the-masked-reviewer]

Kung Fu Panda 4 (2024) Review

potential spoilers ahead...

For starters, I don't think this was a movie that needed to be made. It is not much of a story, if it qualifies at all. the whole thing feels more like an (overly)extended episode of one of the series rather then it's own movie. And was either poorly paced and slow or it was just straight up boring.

Now for an actual explanation. Starting with a community of Goats was a great idea, but I will admit the only reason I think that is because I love goats and am easily bought. Showing Tai Lung attacking the goats with the shots framed to make it difficult to see that he's actually covered in scales instead of fur is an awesome way to introduce the audience to the new villain, even if the execution wasn't great. The lighting and lack of emphasis make it difficult to notice and make out those details. And it isn't explained until later in the movie, after you know who the Chameleon is, when Po finds Tai Lung's footprints that slowly shrink into Not Tai Lung Footprints(TM). Throughout the movie the Chameleon never feels villainous, even as she is doing the Big Bad Thing and in the final fight. It makes it difficult to see the stakes as real and as ultimate as its supposed to. I do really like the consistency of the scales every time she shapeshifts, it looks cool and is a fun way to showcase shapeshifting visually.

Po has no real development in this story. He's supposed to be learning how to teach and not approach every conflict with violence. In the entire movie we see him teach the fox, his sidekick prisoner trainee person, ONE thing, and attempt diplomacy(if you can call a single line that is not entirely non-aggressive that) twice, failing both times. At the end of the movie its treated as though he has become the spiritual leader he begrudgingly set out to become, but in reality nothing changed and there was no lesson for Po, or anyone really including the audience, to learn from the adventure that was had. Jack Black (the god that he is) was great, but this doesn't feel like a movie about Thee "Kung fu Panda". The other movies all have Po going on adventures that teach about believing in yourself, creating a family, self confidence, and more. This movie's lack of clear message and hope feels like a major let down from such a positive children's series.

As for the fox, I didn't like or care about her at all. She was annoying, and I know that's Awkwafina's shtick or whatever, but you can't expect anyone, even young kids, to like or care about the annoying criminal that shows no redeeming qualities until the last ~40 minutes with that quality being questionably redeeming. She meets Po when he catches her stealing and she does nothing but cause problems and be annoying from then to the point where (Surprise!) she double crosses him. She only fights on his side in the end because of the classic reasoning, she didn't know anyone would get hurt. Things are classic for a reason, but here it all feels extremely superficial and cheap.

Shout out to literally every scene with Li and Ping, Po's goose and panda dads respectively. They were, and are, hands down the best scenes in the entire movie. They're the only times I actually had fun watching the movie and it would've been greatly improved if the movie was just a buddy adventure between them and not everything else.

They definitely suffered for the lack of The Furious Five. Even the in universe explanations for where they were were flimsy and bad. Its clear DreamWorks just wanted a quick, cheap, easy money maker and weren't willing to shell out the money for the voice actors.