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#was any of this necessary? you might also ask?
nerdallwritey · 1 day
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Just to Ruin Me
Summary: “You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.” “It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.” “If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.” Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.” “Doing what?” “Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” OR The morning after you spend the night with Astarion, you learn another thing or two.
Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 12.5k CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, vaginal fingering, dry humping, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, but don't piss of Shadowheart Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 2 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here. Find the masterlist here.
a/n: Thanks to everyone who read Part 1!!! Your kind comments and encouragement spurred me to write Part 2 and I hope it's a sequel that lives up to expectations!! I know the summary is a little angsty, but I promise there's more banter to be had. Everyone is still a goof, after all. Please enjoy :) (Thank you to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder, the last part ended with the following few lines: “For now, you were content to sleep under the stars in Astarion’s arms. It was the best sleep you’d ever had.”
Taglist: @a66-1 @khaleesiofthewolves @khywren @lollipopsandlandmines @minestrones
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best sleep you’d ever had.
Though you’d grown accustomed to roughing it in the last few weeks since the nautiloid crash, waking up in the forest was still a shock. It had its charms, sure, like the fresh air and the breeze blowing in off the mountains, but the appeal was starting to wane. Especially after one too many nights of having to take a dip in the frigid lake next to camp to rid yourself of gnoll blood. 
This morning however, you found yourself surrounded by blankets and pillows from your camp in the middle of a clearing surrounded by large pine trees, all of which had been thoughtfully arranged by the figure trancing beside you. Your own sleeping figure sighed comfortably, unbothered by the lack of a mattress or a hot bath, just a nice deep sleep-
Astarion whacked you in the face.
Your eyes shot open.
“OW?” You scrunched your nose and blinked a few times to get your bearings. 
It was still dark. The forest around you was painted a delicate shade of periwinkle. You’d hazard a guess that it was just a little before dawn. 
At some point in the night, you’d rolled onto your back, away from Astarion, who was now curled to your right, his back facing you. He must have just rolled over, explaining the harsh wake up from his forearm. You smiled softly and instinctively brought your hand to rub your forehead where he’d made the unfortunate contact. 
Blinking a little more, your eyes were beginning to adjust. From this angle, you had a clear line of sight to the large scar that overran a majority of his back. You squinted in the dark to try and get a clearer view of the terrible thing, but came up short due to the shadows of tree branches being cast from above. Still just a mandala of jagged lines and brutal curves. When you got your hands on Cazador, you’d…
No.
No, that wasn’t your fight. 
But you’d be gods damned if you wouldn’t be there for every bloody moment Astarion faced him, giving support however you could. Though you had to admit that it would be so gratifying to corner the bastard and cast a quick little Otto’s Irresistible Dance… Assuming you’d be strong enough to cast it by then… Gods, he’d look so fucking stupid just before Astarion plunged a knife through his heart-
Enough. Battle strategies and sick, twisted (but satisfying) revenge fantasies later. Right now you noticed that the shifting of the shadows on his back wasn’t from a breeze shaking the branches above you, but because Astarion himself was trembling. 
Your first instinct was to reach out and touch him, but you quickly retracted your hand. Based on the short whimpers he was letting out, it seemed like he was having a nightmare.
How was one supposed to wake someone from a nightmare again? With Astarion you’d have to be extra careful; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d stowed a knife somewhere within these blankets that he might reach for in a surge of waking fear. 
That… would not be pleasant. 
You shifted to sit up and look around.
Ow.
A dull throbbing made itself known between your legs.
No, that was great. Spectacular, in fact. You’d have to stop and assess later.
Gingerly, you got onto your knees and peered around at your surroundings. Astarion had done a decent job of cleaning up the clearing to make room for this blanket nest, so there wasn’t a poking stick to be seen within reaching distance.
Not that you were going to poke him with a stick… but the thought had crossed your mind. You were still tired! You’d been fucked for the first time last night! There was a lot going on! 
You shook your head to clear the stupid overlapping thoughts and set to looking around for a wayward pillow. You spotted one in the far corner and made your way over to it carefully but with some haste to end Astarion’s unconscious suffering. 
You crawled back over to him. And then backed up a little. Just in case.
“Astarion,” you sang quietly. 
Astarion continued trembling, but you heard him inhale sharply. A good sign?
You raised your voice a little, but kept the same musical cadence. “Astaaaarioooon.”
Nothing.
Okay fine. 
“Sorry,” you said quietly, then threw the pillow at Astarion, hitting him squarely on the back of the head. You leaned forward to grab your own pillow as a protective shield as he gasped and shot up.
“What the hells? What’s happening?” Astarion rolled onto his back and frantically looked around until his eyes landed on you. 
You smiled sheepishly and waved at him lamely from behind your pillow. “Hi.”
Astarion narrowed his eyes, confused. He shook his head, then lifted a hand to the back of his head where the pillow had hit him. “What did you do?”
“You were having a nightmare.”
“Oh, I know what I was doing,” his tone was sarcastic. “What were you doing?”
You looked down at your lap, guilty. “I couldn’t remember how to wake someone up from a nightmare.”
“So you assaulted me?”
“I didn’t know if you had a knife!”
“Why would I have a knife? What is happening?!” He sat up fully and brought a hand to his forehead as if he were in pain. 
“Are you okay?”
“Thankfully, I’ll live,” he opened his eyes and looked at you, his hand still on his forehead. 
You huffed. “I meant with the nightmare.”
Astarion sighed and closed his eyes again. “It’s far too early to discuss this.” He tilted his head up towards the sky, which was getting brighter with every passing moment. A practiced smirk appeared on his face and he looked at you once more. “I’d much rather know if you’re okay, darling.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. 
“We had a lot of fun last night, didn’t we?”
“Seeing as how I’m always a lot of fun, I don’t understand why you’re posing this question.” You looked down your nose at him. 
He hung his head and sighed exasperatedly. “Will you simply allow me to work my charms on you?”
You tutted. “Is that what you were trying to do just now?”
“Attempting to, yes.” Astarion crossed his arms. “I’m usually irresistible.”
You snorted. “Okay,” you said, a small smile appearing on your face. “I’m going to ignore your lack of an answer about your nightmare and will elect to wait until you’re ready to tell me about it yourself.”
Astarion pursed his lips.
“But go ahead,” you rearranged your legs, wincing mildly as you moved to sit cross legged, “charm me.”
A look of worry flashed over Astarion’s face when he saw you wince, but the concern was quickly overtaken by an all too self-satisfied grin. “Feeling it this morning, are we?”
You rolled your eyes. “I knew you’d be happy about this.”
“Positively delighted, my sweet.” He leaned forward and kissed you gently, bringing a hand up to your cheek. You brought your own hand up to lay against his. He pulled away and appraised your face smugly. “I was completely enamored by your performance last night.” You were about to open your mouth to say something, but Astarion interrupted. “Don’t even think about mentioning that you’re a bard and that of course you’re good at performing, or something like that.”
You closed your mouth. You were going to say something like that. Instead you said, “You were pretty good yourself.”
He brought his hands up to make air quotes. “I’ve ‘ruined you,’ from what I recall.”
You groaned. “I just said that to make you cum.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, my dear.” His face was still smug, but he motioned for you to come closer. You scooted forward and he lifted you slightly to sit on his lap. 
He leaned up and kissed you deeply, his tongue swiping your bottom lip for entrance. You moaned in response and opened your mouth for him. Though the rest of his body was cold, his mouth was warm and inviting, and you leaned in further to try and get closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tilted your head slightly to get a better angle. You’d been mildly distracted last night; had he always smelled this good?
When Astarion pulled back suddenly, you couldn’t help the whine that escaped at the loss. He hummed in satisfaction, and his voice was low and seductive when he spoke.
“Every part of your perfect body whispers temptations-”
You giggled. “What?”
“Shush dear, I’m charming you.” He cleared his throat, “-it’s as if the gods made you just to ruin me.”
“So now I’ve ruined you?” You raised your eyebrows teasingly.
“Wait, no-”
You leaned your forehead onto his and laughed. “And that one usually works?”
He blew out a puff of air. “You’re an unusual one, I’ll give you that.” 
You shrugged, pleased with yourself.
“But yes,” Astarion continued, “I’ve made plenty of previous lovers swoon with that particular line.”
“Show me what else you’ve got, then,” you challenged.
Astarion tilted his head in thought. “Let’s see… I can’t use the ‘cried from your lips’ line because I used that one last night…” You scoffed joyfully, mockingly scandalized that he’d already used a line on you. He met your eye and smirked. “How about this one: When I’m with you, I feel practically alive, yet I crave only to die again, with you.”
The sultry tone of his voice did send a pang of want through your body, reminding you that you were only wearing Astarion’s shirt and nothing else. You shifted uncomfortably. 
“How romantic,” you said, trying to keep your voice nonchalant. “I didn’t think you liked dying the first time.”
Astarion narrowed his eyes, sensing your deflection and smirked, looking down at where you sat on his lap. He rolled his hips, which made you inhale sharply. “I see that one did do something for you,” he leaned forward and kissed your neck. 
You exhaled slowly, “I blame that stupid sexy voice of yours.”
Astarion growled against your throat and you shivered, bringing your hands up to his back. 
“Astarion,” you sighed and he hummed in response, licking over the twin wounds he’d left the night before. You sat up a little straighter. “Wait.”
He immediately pulled back and looked at you with concern. “What is it?”
“I just thought of something,” you said.
Astarion raised his eyebrows and nodded, wanting you to continue.
“Can I borrow your fangs?”
“My-?” His tongue instinctively flicked over his teeth.
“Because I want to leave a lasting impression on you,” you tilted your head at him to show off the marks he’d left on your throat. You shimmied your shoulders a little for good measure. 
“I’m leaving,” Astarion made to get up with you still on his lap and you laughed loudly.
“No! No! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I wanted to try a dumb line on you, too!” You threw your arms around his neck and hid your face in his shoulder. You felt him kiss your hair.
“You’re lucky I don’t travel with you for your personality,” he joked. 
“I’d say ‘I’m a lot of fun’ again but I think you’d actually stop talking to me.” You pulled back to look at him.
“And you’d be right.” He kissed you chastely and then adjusted you on his lap. You winced a little again and he looked genuinely sympathetic. “I might have a way to ease the pain from last night,” he said. “Do you trust me?”
You smiled at him. “Yes.”
He smiled back. “Good.” He positioned your arms over his shoulders. “Hang on, my love.” You crossed your arms where they hung behind him and waited to see what he would do. 
Without warning, you felt one of his cold fingers slide through your folds. You hissed at the sensation and looked at Astarion. 
“Supposedly, massaging the area can help,” he was trying to sound knowledgeable, but the look in his eyes was one full of lust. Then he tutted, looking down. “You could be wetter, darling.” His thumb began to circle your clit.
Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, and you leaned forward again to rest your forehead on his shoulder. 
“Do you want my cock again, love? You took me so well last night, I was so proud of you,” he’d moved his mouth next to your ear and was speaking with the same sultry tone that he had a minute ago. You whimpered at his praise and rolled your hips to get his thumb to press you harder. Astarion let out a low groan. “That’s it, you’re getting so wet for me, you’re so good.”
After a few more tight circles, you practically sobbed when you felt him take his thumb away from your clit.
“Shh, shh, I know,” he cooed, “but we want you to feel better, remember?”
You let out a frustrated sound. “I already was feeling better.”
Astarion chuckled. “Trust me, would you? Impatient.” His tone was nothing but fond.
His other fingers began massaging the area around your entrance. You winced and bit your lip. 
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” you confirmed. “I assume this will get better?”
“That’s the idea,” he kissed your ear and you nodded against his shoulder. 
You rolled your hips, attempting to get friction where you needed it. 
“Just a little longer,” Astarion said, moving his fingers gently around your cunt.
You hummed an acknowledgement and kept rolling your hips, trying to combat this weird form of edging that was happening. 
Finally, Astarion ceased his massaging and brought his thumb back to your clit. You let out a long shuddering breath and squeezed your eyes tight, adjusting your hips to roll against his thigh. 
“There you go, my love,” Astarion said, voice still in your ear. “I’ll make you cum for behaving so well.”
You whined loudly as his thumb picked up the pace. You began rolling your hips at an equally fast pace. “More,” you whined, willing your climax to approach faster.
“Not right now, darling. Let’s give you a break there, shall we?” Astarion used his free hand to pet your hair. 
“But you asked if I wanted your cock again,” you whined.
“And while I’m pleased to hear that you’d like it again, let’s relax and get you off like this for now, okay?” 
You groaned but nodded, squeezing your eyes shut again and focusing on the pleasure Astarion was currently providing. “Harder,” you instructed.
Astarion pressed down harder on your clit with his thumb. He swept his index and middle finger through your folds, coating them in your slick. He quickly swapped those fingers with his thumb, changing the sensation by swapping one finger for two and adding more of your arousal to the mix. 
You keened and gripped his bicep. “Harder!” You instructed again, desperate and approaching the edge. You could feel the coil in your stomach preparing to let go.
Astarion pushed again and brought his lips to your ear once more. 
“I just thought of something, precious thing,” he murmured.
You blinked at him, your eyes unfocused and half lidded.
“More of a question, really,” he clarified.
You squeezed your eyes tight, nodding. You were on the precipice of your orgasm and could feel it fastly approaching. You slammed your hips against Astarion’s thigh as he continued to rub your clit brutally. 
“Do you believe in love at first bite?” He leaned forward and kissed your throat, then began to suck a new mark into the flesh there. Contrary to his pun, he wouldn’t drink from you without your expressed permission first.
It did, however, send you crashing over the edge. You moaned loudly, Astarion’s name tumbling repeatedly out of your mouth. The vision behind your eyelids was white and you reached out blindly to grip Astarion’s shoulders. His lips detached themselves from your throat and found your own. His tongue was immediately in your mouth, swallowing your moans and shouts of his name.
When you came down, you disconnected from the kiss and opened your eyes, a lopsided grin on your face. 
“Thank you,” you said. “I do feel better.”
Astarion smirked. “I knew you would.” He brought his fingers, still coated in your essence, up to his mouth and sucked them clean. You watched, mesmerized by the way his cheeks hollowed and his eyes fluttered shut. He pulled them out with a lewd pop. “Delicious.”
You felt your face flush, embarrassed by his display, despite just cumming in his lap. 
“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about this,” Astarion said, reading your expression immediately. “What you should feel embarrassed about is the fact that you came because I told a joke.”
“I did not!” You protested.
“You absolutely did,” Astarion said. “And it was a particularly bad one, too.” He clicked his tongue. “You must feel so ashamed.”
You groaned. “I came because you started kissing my neck!”
Astarion raised his eyebrows, clearly not believing you. “It’s okay, darling, no one here was under the impression that you aren’t incredibly lame.” He gave you a pitying look, then kissed your nose and you laughed. He pulled back and looked at you fondly, a dopey half smile on his face. Then he looked up at the sky.
The periwinkle you’d awoken to was now vibrant shades of orange and pink. 
“Are you okay if I move you?” Astarion asked.
“Um… sure?” You weren’t sure why he was asking, and helped to move yourself off of him. You did feel a bit less sore thanks to his help. 
He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, then bent to pick up a rag to wipe off his pants. 
“Sorry,” you said.
Astarion shook his head. “Comes with the territory.” You were about to make a joke but he held up a finger and gave you a warning look. “Don’t.”
You held up your hands innocently. 
He tossed you the rag after and then your pants and underthings.
“Clean up,” he instructed, “then get dressed.”
You furrowed your brows, your stomach dropping suddenly. He didn’t expect you to leave right now, did he? He hadn’t fucked you last night, then brought you more pleasure this morning, only for him to send you back to camp like it hadn’t happened, right?
Astarion snorted. He was watching you as he slipped on his shoes. “Relax, darling, I see that face. I just want to show you something.” He held out a hand to help you up.
“Okay,” you smiled, soothed by the pleasant look on his face. “Do you want your shirt back?” You made to lift it over your head.
“Keep it for now, dear,” Astarion said. “I rather like that on you, truthfully.” The collar was slipping off your shoulder as you pulled on your pants, and you made no move to adjust it, opting not to put your bra back on yet.
“Do you want to wear my shirt?” you teased.
“Tempting, but I fear I’d look better in it than you do.”
“Excellent point, don’t do that.” You adjusted the ruffles on Astarion’s shirt and felt a light breeze on your cleavage through the lacey opening at the collar. 
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he said. You looked up and caught Astarion staring at your chest.
You laughed as he cleared his throat, then gestured deeper into the woods with his head. “This way.” He held out a tentative hand and you took it eagerly, bringing the back of his palm up to your face to leave a gentle kiss. Astarion squeezed your hand slightly at the contact, and began heading further into the forest, away from camp. A pleasant silence hung between the two of you and you rubbed your thumb absently along the back of his hand.
It wasn’t long before the trees started to thin and you heard the sound of rushing water somewhere close by. You emerged from the trees to find a cliff overlooking a ravine below. On the other side of the ravine was more forest, and beyond that, you could faintly see the Sea of Swords. The sun peeked out over the horizon, bright reddish orange in the distance. Its glow was a welcome sight and you found yourself in awe of the view.
Astarion let go of your hand and sat, dangling his feet over the edge of the cliff. You hesitantly stepped forward and sat beside him, opting instead to sit with one knee up, the other leg crossed beneath it. Astarion sat back on his arms. The sun reflected off his skin in the most beautiful golden and magenta hues. His hair, somehow still perfect despite your night together, was being jostled lightly by the breeze. He’d closed his eyes and tipped his head up, basking. You couldn’t help watching him as you rested your cheek on your bent knee. 
He didn’t open his eyes when he said, “I try to come out here every morning.” 
You sat in silence, continuing to watch him as you prepared to listen to whatever he’d say next. 
“After two hundred years in darkness, you forget how lovely the sunrise is,” he said. “I don’t ever want to miss another.”
“I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like,” you said softly. 
Astarion hummed in acknowledgment and opened his eyes. “I’d catch glimpses while lurking around the city for too long before dawn, hopping from shadow to shadow until I made it back to Cazador’s manor.” His eyes didn’t waver from the sun in the distance. “But there were moments where I’d catch a glimpse of it over the Chionthar.” His tone became sardonic. “The promise of a new day emerging! Something that I would never get to participate in.” He sighed. “I’d linger as long as I could in those moments.” 
You nodded, picturing a hopeful Astarion hiding behind buildings and in alleys, trying to get a fleeting look at a phenomenon that occurred every day, one that you took for granted. Your heart ached for him. 
He continued. “I never quite told you what Cazador made his spawn do for him.”
You tried to recall what Astarion had said to you before. Only that he’d been made to go out into the city and bring back “the most beautiful souls” he could find. Then Cazador would make him either drink from a disgusting dead rat, or abuse him for refusing. The thought made you visibly shudder. 
“I know that you had to bring people back to-” you lowered your voice, as if saying his name might summon him, “-Cazador, against your will. And that he’d kill them.” 
Astarion nodded his head once, remorsefully. “I never told you how we lured them.”
You could see pain etched into his features. You reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. He flinched a bit at the contact, but settled when he looked over at you.
“You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.”
“It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.”
“If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.”
Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” 
You cocked your head sympathetically. “And I take it two hundred years as a slave hasn’t really afforded you any choice.”
“Correct,” he sighed. “As a spawn, your vampiric master has complete control over your body and your actions. Even in moments where I wanted to defy or fight back, I was powerless to do anything.” 
Your heart jumped into your throat. You hadn’t realized that was how it worked. Having no control over yourself or your actions sounded like a complete nightmare and you were glad that you’d hopefully never have to experience it. Knowing that that had been Astarion’s entire existence for the past two centuries made you sick to your stomach. 
“I’m sorry,” you said, just as you’d said the last few times he’d shared glimpses of his past.
Astarion’s eyes were closed once again as he inhaled deeply, then exhaled. He continued to bask in the rising sun for a few silent moments and you watched as it slowly rose higher into the sky. 
“That nightmare I had,” he said, his voice coming out quiet, “I’ve had it before.”
Again, you said nothing and waited for him to continue.
“I actually had the same one the night you let me drink your blood for the first time.”
“Oh, please don’t tell me that drinking my blood was some sort of revenge plot against me for haunting your nightmares.”
Astarion smiled a little. “No, it wasn’t about you. It was about Cazador.”
“You know, I’m really starting to dislike this guy,” you said, knowing how difficult this was for him and trying to keep his mood up with another little joke. 
“You and me both,” he sounded tired. “In the dream, I’m in the forest. Cazador appears and recites the rules of being his vampire spawn.” He held up his hand and recounted them on his fingers: “‘First, thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures. Second, thou shall obey me in all things. Third, thou shalt not leave my side, unless directed. Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine.’” 
You listened patiently as Astarion recited each rule almost mechanically. You scrunched your nose with each passing instruction and rolled your eyes dramatically when Astarion finished.
“What a prick.”
He smiled again. “With an archaic speech pattern.”
“I was going to mention his archaic speech pattern.”
The smile faded slowly as Astarion returned to his thoughts. “The dream ends with Cazador telling me I’m his forever. That I can never escape.” 
You let the words hang in the air for a moment. “And yet, here you are.”
“Here I am,” he said humorlessly. He laid down fully on his back, the sun high enough to bathe him completely in its glow. He rested his arms behind his head and angled himself to look at you. “I realized, if I could walk in the sun, what other vampiric laws could I break?”
You looked down at him, admiring the light glinting off his bare chest. “So you decided to test your theory on me? I’m touched.” You held a hand to your chest, pretending to be deeply moved.
“In all honesty, I thought you were the least likely to kill me if I got caught.” He smirked at you. “And it would seem I was right.”
“I wouldn’t have let any of the others kill you,” you said firmly.
Astarion chuckled. “How sweet. My brave little protector.” He reached over to pinch your cheek.
You swatted him away. “Hey, who saved your ass from a bugbear yesterday?”
He shrugged. “I would have been fine.”
You leaned forward and shoved him lightly, making him laugh and throw his arm forward as a shield. 
When his laughter died down, his face grew a touch more serious again. “When you so graciously assaulted me this morning, he’d just finished telling me rule number three; that I can’t leave him unless he tells me to.”
You thought for a moment. “Which begs the question,” Astarion looked over at you expectantly, “how did you end up out here? From what I recall, the sun was still out when the nautiloid reached the Gate. You didn’t have the tadpole yet, so how’d you escape?”
“I wouldn’t say it was much of an escape.” His eyes shifted up to the sky, his expression thoughtful. “I was looking for new victims for Cazador. It was dusk and I had just been given the order to go out and hunt. I was weaving through shadows, avoiding the setting sun, but there’s only so many places one can hide from a giant tentacle that won’t burn you to a crisp. One of the tentacles caught me when I attempted to flee down an alleyway. A complete accident.”
“If it helps, I tripped while running away.”
“Of course you did.” He sighed. “Figures it would take an alien invasion to finally free me from his clutches. Not some,” he waved his hands in the air, gesturing to nothing in particular, “heroic figure sent by the gods to save me and smite that horrible man down to somewhere further and more vile than the Nine Hells.” His hands fell ungracefully to his sides.
He wasn’t wrong. How could any god worth their salt claim to be holier than thou when such suffering was occuring right under their noses? And you were pretty sure, based on tales you’d heard of Mystra and Shar from Gale and Shadowheart, that the gods hadn’t planned for the nautiloids or the rise of the Absolute. Yet if it weren’t for any of that, Astarion would still be trapped in Baldur’s Gate and your adventure thus far would have looked very different.
“If I’d known, I would have done something,” you said, knowing it was more complicated than that, but still wanting to help somehow. 
“Darling, if I’d met you in Baldur’s Gate, I would not have hesitated to take you to Cazador.”
That hurt. 
You said as much. “Ouch.”
“Well,” he sounded angry, though he directed it up towards the sky and not at you, “I wouldn’t have had a choice! Sure, it would have been a little novel, given how inexperienced you are, but regardless, I would have handed you off to him as soon as I’d made you finish.”
Ah. So that was how he lured people. It made sense, now that you put the pieces together; Astarion was so experienced because he had to be. Of course unsuspecting victims would fall prey to the allure of an eternally beautiful vampire, especially the one laying next to you. Of course the promise of pleasure from someone that sexy would be the obvious thing to agree to. It was a wonder your paths had never crossed before the nautiloid. 
“Once,” Astarion broke the silence that had fallen between you, his tone distant, “in the first decade of my slavery, I found a darling boy who I couldn’t bear to bring back to him.” He finally looked over at you, his eyes full of sadness. “So I ran, instead of hurting that sweet man.”
You reached for his hand, then thought better of it. All his snide “don’t touch me’s” on the road now held a new, terrible weight.
“After Cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year. A year of silence”
A hand flew to your mouth. “Astarion…” you felt your eyes begin to prick with tears and did your best to will them away, fearing that they might make Astarion stop sharing.
He went on. “Months of scratching my hands raw, trying to carve my way out, more months of not moving at all. Months wishing only for death.” He took a deep breath, then blew it out shakily. “So no, I wouldn’t have hesitated, had we crossed paths.”
You opened and closed your mouth several times, attempting to find words that could possibly compose an appropriate response to the horrors you currently refused to picture. “I have no words,” is what you finally settled on, followed by an, “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing can make up for that,” he said quietly. “Not even Cazador’s death.” He paused. “Well, it would help a little, but the coward deserves a fate worse than death.”
“Can I hug you?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself.
Astarion blinked a few times, then sat up. “What?”
“I just… you’ve been through such hell and I want to hug you, but I don’t want to touch you without your permission.”
He looked you up and down and saw the sincerity evident on your face. “I… suppose.” He pulled his legs up from where they were still dangling above the ravine and turned to face you head on. 
“Thank you,” you said, still attempting to keep your tears at bay.
You leaned forward and weaved your arms beneath Astarion’s, hooking your arms up and placing your hands on his shoulder blades. You settled your face between his neck and shoulder and could feel that his arms were frozen rigidly in place in front of him. You took a shaky breath and stayed still, allowing Astarion to move at his own pace. 
His arms finally settled around you and he bent his head so his cheek rested against your hair. 
The two of you stayed like that for a while, relishing in the other’s closeness. You moved your hands back and forth across his back absently. When you caught yourself, you pulled back to look at him and asked, “Is it okay that I’m touching your back?”
Astarion chuckled softly. “Yes, my dear. It’s rather nice, actually.”
You smiled and nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck. Seriously, did he always smell this good?
Despite the pleasant distraction, something was nagging at your thoughts.
“Can I ask you something?” you murmured into his skin.
Astarion sighed dramatically. “If it has anything to do with my fangs, I’ll rip your throat out.”
You snickered to yourself. “No, not another dumb joke, I promise.”
“Then by all means.”
You pulled back once more to look at him in the face. His eyes widened when he saw your nervous expression. You avoided holding his gaze, feeling a little small. 
“Do you… want to be with me?”
Astarion looked taken aback. “What?”
“I mean… well…” You were having trouble sorting through your thoughts. Who were you to make this moment about yourself when Astarion had just been so open with you? And why couldn’t you trust him in what he had told you last night? Still, you had to know. You’d made it clear how much you cared for him and how much sleeping with him had meant to you. 
Given his past experiences, it made sense why he’d sleep with you, but you wanted to hear him say it. If this was all some ploy to manipulate you into doing what he wanted, even without Cazador’s instruction, you needed to know now. 
“Was I… just another conquest?” you asked, your tears reemerging. “Because if that’s the case, then I think we should end whatever this is.”
Astarion’s face was now inches away from yours. He moved a hand from your back and shifted it up to wipe a wayward tear that had escaped. He said your name softly.
“No, my sweet,” his other hand started rubbing soothing circles into your back. He pulled back a little. “Well, yes.”
You scoffed, another tear rolling down your cheek. 
Astarion was quick to correct. “No, no! I mean, at first, yes, it was my plan to seduce you and sleep with you.”
You let out a small whimpering noise and he tried to catch your eye. You kept your gaze glued on something in the distance, unseeing.
Astarion cleared his throat. “You- You’re valuable; someone willing to feed me, someone who advocated for me to stay with you all, even though you knew vampires were dangerous, someone who would protect me in battle, even if it meant sacrificing something important to you.”
Try as he might to get your attention back on him, your face remained blank as you stared into the distance.
“I wanted your continued protection.” He shrugged. “Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in and I thought I could secure that with sex.”
That got you to look at him, a sour expression on your face. “Have you met me?”
Astarion chuckled. “Yes, I have. And that’s what threw me for such a loop.”
You humphed.
“When I realized you’d be more of a challenge, I modified my plan.”
“I don’t love the direction this is headed.”
“Stay with me, darling” he said, “I promise I’m going somewhere with this.”
You exhaled and nodded for him to continue. 
“I did want to give you a good first experience, that much was true, but I will admit that I was still planning on using you.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You realize how bad this sounds, right?”
“Will you-” he sighed. “Let me finish, damn you,” he brought his forehead to yours briefly, then pulled back. “So imagine how stupid I felt when I realized I genuinely felt something for you.”
That made you smile softly. 
He groaned. “And yes, it is because I find you to be… a lot of fun.” The last phrase sounded like it hurt coming out. 
Your soft smile transformed into one of smug satisfaction. “And when did you come to this conclusion?”
“Well first of all, look at you.” He smiled slyly and you playfully pushed his face away from yours, just as you had last night. After a moment, Astarion looked up, as if searching through his thoughts. “I suppose I’ve always found you to be amusing. You were so easy to fool in the beginning. I mean, the very first day we met, you thought I had one of those brain things cornered.”
“I had no reason not to believe you! And then you held a knife to my throat!” “Ah, memories,” he sighed wistfully. “But then we started traveling together, and I don’t think I’ve ever laughed more. Killing those goblins outside the Grove, fooling those trolls into working for us, taking out those Paladins of Tyr… you always had a sarcastic comment to contend with my sarcastic comments. Which is saying something.”
You snorted. “As if I wouldn’t have something to say.”
Astarion nodded. “You do talk a lot.” 
You chuckled softly, feeling better. Your arms were still wrapped around Astarion.
“It was when I kissed you.” His tone was thoughtful.
“Hmm?”
“When I really kissed you for the first time, there was something different about it.” His eyes flicked down to your lips momentarily. “Suddenly everything we’d been through came rushing back to my mind and there was this… pleasure I hadn’t felt. In an awfully long time.”
You smiled like a dope, bringing your forehead to his.
“I realized you weren’t going anywhere. And that you genuinely cared about what I thought and what I wanted.” He looked at you almost shyly. “No one in the past two hundred years has stayed.” Astarion pulled back and his inflection became flamboyant and playful: “Not that they had much of a choice, but it was a somewhat shocking revelation.” His tone then returned to one of sincerity: “And no one has cared for me as you have.”
You looked away, embarrassed by the kind words.“What can I say, I’m incredible.”
Astarion blew out a cool puff of air that tickled your face. “Annoyingly, you are.”
You looked back at him and smirked. “For me, it was when you asked me how I’d want to die.”
Astarion snorted. “Pardon?”
“When you asked me how I wanted to die on one of our first nights at camp. I genuinely had the thought, ‘Now here’s a guy who knows how to have a good time.’”
Astarion laughed brightly. You mirrored his grin.
“You said you wanted to be decapitated.” 
“How romantic of me,” he said, raising a seductive eyebrow. 
“Well it did spark the crush I’ve been harboring this whole time,” you felt your face heat up at the admission. “That, and your stupid beautiful face.”
Astarion sniffed mockingly. “Thank you, not enough people mention that.” Then he looked at you fondly. “But that long, eh? How adorable.” He rubbed his nose against yours teasingly. “And here you thought nothing would come of it.”
“Nothing usually does!” you exclaimed.
He laughed and leaned forward to kiss you once. “Not so loud.”
You lifted an eyebrow and gestured to the empty landscape around you. Astarion shrugged. You lowered your voice despite the lack of other people to bother.
“I am glad something came of it this time.” You settled your forehead onto his shoulder.
“As am I, my love,” he kissed your hair. “Though I have something else to admit.”
You pulled back and looked at him curiously.
Out of nowhere, he presented you with a knife.
“I did have a knife.”
You scoffed incredulously and whacked his arm. “I KNEW YOU HAD A KNIFE, YOU BASTARD!” You laughed loudly and pushed him backwards. 
He fell back onto his arms, laughing with you as you crawled on top and kissed him deeply. 
“Careful darling,” he murmured against your lips, “don’t move.”
You paused your movements, your lips still pressed firmly against his own. Astarion turned his head slightly to look over to his left at the treeline you’d emerged from not too long ago. You pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth and felt him grin. Then you felt his right arm come up and jerk slightly, followed by a “THUNK” sound off to your right. 
You waited a moment before you asked, “Can I move?” Your mouth was smushed against his face and your voice came out muffled.
He chuckled. “Yes, you can move now.” 
You sat up and looked to your right, the knife Astarion had pulled was now wedged deeply into the trunk of a nearby tree. You raised your eyebrows at him.
He stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam, his voice straining as he went. “Impressed?”
“Honestly? Yes.” You leaned back down and kissed him again. 
He hummed and his mouth moved against yours at a leisurely pace, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You kissed down his jaw and throat before coming to his collarbone and stopping.
“You’re sure you don’t want to fuck me again?” Your words came out a little shy and Astarion laughed. 
He twirled the ends of your hair around his finger. “Delicious as you were, my sweet, I think I’d prefer to take my time with you.” 
You pursed your lips, disappointed. 
“That’s not to say I don’t want to, darling, but…” His fingers stopped twirling your hair as he thought. “Like you said earlier, so much has changed in the last few hours. I’ve only just discovered that I can sleep with somebody because I actually want to.” His hand moved from your hair to your cheek. “I think I need some time to adjust to that.”
You nodded and bent to kiss him. “I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”
He smiled up at you. “Thank you.”
You spent a few moments just looking at him, admiring how his eyes sparkled in the sun like rubies. You sighed noticeably. 
“What is it, love?”
You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”
“Darling…” He raised his eyebrows at you. 
“No, it’s inappropriate right now.” You looked away.
You felt his hand in your hair, and his voice was conspiratory, “I love when you talk dirty.”
You sighed again and looked him in the eye. “One of these days, when you’re ready, I’m going to look into your gorgeous eyes as I make you come.”
Astarion sputtered out a surprised laugh. “Easy there, lover,” he gave you a sultry look, “I may just take you up on that.”
You sat up and spread your hands over his chest. “I want to make you feel good, too.”
He brought both hands up to his face and groaned loudly before dragging them back down his face and looking at you. “Come lay in the sun with me, will you?”
You pouted but rolled off of him and curled into his side. 
“There now,” he said, arching his chest upwards towards the sky where the sun had now risen for the day, “isn’t this nice?”
You inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the trees and the sounds of the ravine below. You exhaled and closed your eyes, warmed by the sun and comforted by the presence of Astarion beside you. He himself had his eyes closed and looked peacefully content. You nuzzled further into his side, enjoying how his cool skin contrasted with the warmth coming from above.
Before you could even register that you were still tired from your early wakeup call this morning, you’d drifted back into a comfortable sleep.
~~~~~
You were awoken some time later by a lick to the face. 
You shut your eyes tighter and groaned. “Gross, Astarion, I’m trying to sleep.” You threw an arm over your eyes, the sun now directly overhead. 
“Did you find them, boy?” A voice shouted from the distance.
Your eyes shot open and found Scratch panting above you, wagging his tail excitedly. 
You sat up quickly and immediately leaned over to shake Astarion who appeared to be trancing soundly. 
“Astarion,” you shook him anxiously. 
He scowled, his eyes still closed. He groaned lowly.
“Astarion, my dear, my sweet, my beloved,” you shook him harder and his eyes opened immediately. He sat up, fast as lightning.
“What’s happening? Where’s my knife?” He looked around frantically until his eyes landed on you. “Ah,” he said, calming, “déjà vu.” 
“They’re coming,” you hissed.
“Who?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, thoughts still foggy from his trance. 
“No FUCKING way!” Came Karlach’s voice from the treeline. 
You looked over and found her with an elated grin on her face and her hands on her knees. She started laughing loudly and you hid your face in your hands. 
“You guys did NOT,” she wheezed. 
“Hello Karlach,” Astarion’s voice sounded nonchalant beside you. “What brings you out to ruin our beauty sleep?” 
“Did you find them?” Shadowheart soon emerged from the forest and stopped in her tracks. She surveyed the area and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Astarion, tell me you didn’t.”
“Did what, darling?” He sounded smug and you looked over at him. His expression matched his tone. “You’ll have to be more specific.” He rested his chin on your shoulder.
“I fucking knew this would happen,” Karlach said, coming down from her laughing fit. “Soldier’s had her eye on you for a while now, Fangs.”
“Karlach!” You whisper-shouted.
“Oh, I’m aware,” you felt Astarion turn his head to look at you. 
Suddenly Gale, Lae’zel, and Wyll joined the fray. Scratch ran to them and happily weaved between them as they emerged. 
“We heard a commotion, did you find them?” Gale halted when he saw you and Astarion sitting together on the ground, him shirtless, you wearing his shirt. “No,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yes,” Astarion said, tilting his head against yours. You gave him a dirty look. 
“Chk! Was that filthy nest of our blankets your doing?” Lae’zel asked, cradling her greatsword proudly. 
You groaned and hid your face in your hands again. 
“It would appear so,” Wyll confirmed awkwardly. 
“You vampires have a disgusting way of mating if that nest was any indication,” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes and lifted her nose in the air judgmentally. “Far too soft.”
Astarion scoffed and pulled back from you. “I’ll have you know that vampires mate in the most satisfying- well, we don’t mate, necessarily, we’re not dogs, but we, well at least I, am always an exemplary lover.”
Shadowheart ignored him and walked forward, crouching down and resting a hand on your shoulder. You looked at her. “Are you okay?”
“What?” you laughed in disbelief. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“He didn’t… coerce you into something, did he?”
“Excuse me?” Astarion sounded insulted. “I always ask permission first, darling.”
“Your charms can be quite overwhelming at times, Astarion,” Gale said. 
“And wouldn’t you like having my charms turned on you, wizard,” Astarion sneered. 
“Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Wyll held up his hands, gesturing for the others to relax.
“Everyone!” You raised your voice. All eyes settled on you. “Nothing happened between us that I didn’t expressly and happily agree to.”
Karlach started chuckling again. “Good for you, Soldier.”
“Thank you, Karlach,” said Astarion. 
You narrowed your eyes at him. 
He shrugged. “What?”
You groaned and stood up, wiping grass and forest debris off your clothes. You adjusted Astarion’s shirt on your shoulders, making sure you weren’t showing off too much to your companions. 
“Is there a reason you all came out here? Or was it just to mortify me? Because mission accomplished!”
“It’s midday,” informed Wyll. “We grew worried when the two of you seemingly vanished and didn’t return.”
“Halsin and the tieflings are coming to camp tonight to celebrate our victory against the goblins,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. 
“Yes, and it wouldn’t be a great look if our leader and the gangly one were missing,” Gale said.
“Gangly?!” Astarion exclaimed, very clearly not gangly. 
“You’re- okay, well, I hadn’t seen you shirtless before now,” Gale amended. 
“Like what you see?” Astarion teased. 
“Astarion,” you scolded. 
He sighed and got up, wrapping an arm around you and resting a hand on your hip. 
You went red as you watched your companions track his hand. 
“Listen, people,” Astarion said, sounding serious. 
You saw your companions’ eyes shift to the vampire. 
“Don’t give her a hard time. This was my doing.” Shadowheart was about to say something but Astarion raised his voice a bit. “While yes, she gave permission in everything that we did, this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t suggested it in the first place.”
“I could have suggested something much better, surely,” Lae’zel huffed.
“I mean, did you-?” Karlach thrust her hips in the air with her fists at her sides.
“Oh my gods,” you groaned.
“I don’t kiss and tell, darling,” Astarion said, squeezing your hip slightly. 
Karlach smirked smugly and winked at you both. 
You shook your head and looked up, silently begging any god that was listening to kill you and to do it quickly. 
“We should get back to camp,” Wyll suggested diplomatically. “Let these two collect themselves.” 
“So what does this mean?” Shadowheart asked, ignoring Wyll. 
“Shadowheart,” Wyll warned but she waved him off.
“What do you mean?” You asked.
“Are you only going to sleep with the pathetic vampire moving forward?” Lae’zel stated bluntly.
You and Astarion looked at each other. You saw the slightest flash of uncertainty in his eyes and smiled. “If he’ll let me,” you said. 
A small smile appeared on his face in return.
Lae’zel groaned. “K'chakhi. Your loss.” She turned and walked back into the forest, slinging her greatsword over her back.
You bit your lip, feeling guilty about Lae’zel’s feelings, but Karlach soon slid into your vision. “Congrats, you crazy kids,” she laughed and pretended to punch your arm, then followed on Lae’zel’s heels, Scratch bounding close behind her.
Gale walked over, his face stoic. He stood in front of Astarion and held out his hand. 
Astarion scowled. “What is this, do you want some sort of handout?” 
“I want to shake your hand, you buffoon,” Gale sounded frustrated. 
“Gale…” you said sorrowfully. 
“No no, think nothing of it,” he waved you off. “The right man won out in the end.”
Astarion took his hand and shook it. “Better luck next time,” he jeered. 
“Astarion,” you scolded again. “You both know I’m not something to win, right?”
“Of course you’re not,” Gale nodded. “Apologies, I misspoke. I’ll see you both at camp. Lunch is bread and cheese to save room for tonight’s festivities.” He stiffly turned and walked back towards the trees. Wyll gave him a sympathetic look, then caught your eye. He nodded somewhat sadly and followed after Gale. 
“Well that certainly doesn’t feel good,” you said, holding a hand to your chest and breathing deeply.
“Not quite finished yet, love,” Astarion nodded over towards Shadowheart who lingered nearby. 
She approached slowly, holding her hands behind her back. Astarion released your hip and moved away, sensing what Shadowheart aimed to do. You looked at him curiously, but your attention was drawn back to Shadowheart as she threw her arms around your neck. 
“You’re happy?” She asked softly.
“Shadowheart…” you smiled into her hair. “Yes, I’m happy. Thank you.”
She pulled back to look at you in the eyes, double checking your expression. When she saw that you were genuine, she nodded. She cleared her throat and looked over at Astarion. 
She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Hurt her, and you will never know a happy day again.”
Astarion held up his hands defensively. “I won’t-”
“You have never known the pain of Lady Shar’s wrath, and you’d be smart to keep it that way, so help me gods, Astarion.”
“I got it,” he said flatly. 
“Our Lady of Loss would not hesitate to strike you where you stand-”
“I think he gets it,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Shadowheart.”
Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at Astarion before she looked back at you. “I’ll see you at camp. Don’t dally.” She looked pointedly at Astarion who shrugged helplessly. 
When she headed back into the forest, you and Astarion were finally alone. 
You let out a heavy sigh.
“That was a lot,” Astarion joined you at your side.
“Wait, did you know those people?” you smirked at him.
“Vaguely,” he smirked back and caught you in a kiss. “At least I don’t have to hold back from doing that at camp now.” He held you close in his arms.
You sighed again and laid your head on his shoulder. “You were right. I didn’t realize so many of them felt something for me.”
“That seems to be because you block out the advances of others.”
You shoved him playfully. “How dare you turn my pitiful backstory against me.”
He smiled and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go dismantle that ‘disgusting’ nest.” He did his best to impersonate Lae’zel on “disgusting.” 
It made you laugh. “Okay.”
You took his hand and let him lead you through the trees back to the blankets and pillows that you’d spent the night on. 
When you arrived, you picked up your shirt and bra, feeling mild embarrassment that the others had probably seen them and drawn (correct) conclusions. You removed Astarion’s shirt and threw it back at him, hitting him in the face and quickly covered your chest with your forearm. 
Astarion laughed as his shirt fell into his awaiting hands. “Darling, you don’t have to hide from me,” he narrowed his eyes seductively. “I’ve already seen it all.” He tossed the shirt aside and made his way over to you.
“Feels different in the light of day,” you admitted self-consciously. “Worse, I guess.”
“Now, now,” he said, gently pulling your arm away from your chest, “let me see you in the daylight.” You allowed him to move your arm but didn’t look at him. “Lovely,” he breathed, and kissed you hard. 
You inhaled in surprise, but immediately gave in and slipped your tongue into his mouth and your arms over his shoulders. His hand came up and began massaging your left breast, his icy touch sending a shock wave through you and making you moan. 
Instantly, you pulled away and took a step back. “Careful,” you said as Astarion stared at you wide-eyed, his hand frozen in the air where he’d been palming your breast, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”
He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a dry heave. “Stop being so nice to me,” he avoided your gaze. “It makes me want to… be nice back.”
“Gods forbid,” you laughed, and bent to pick up your bra which had fallen back amongst the pillows. 
All of a sudden, you found yourself face down in the blankets, the wind knocked out of you and Astarion’s body weight pressed firmly on top of you.
“Astarion,” you wheezed, “what are you doing?”
His voice was sultry in your ear, “If you’ll remember, I said I wanted to take my time with you.”
Sexy as that was, you couldn’t breathe. You reached behind yourself and smacked Astarion’s back with your palm. “Living creatures need to breathe, idiot!”
“Oh,” he realized his error and rolled off of you. You had no time to adjust yourself before he flipped you over and hovered above you on his hands and knees. 
You blew some hair out of your face, irritated. “Did you just tackle me like I was some sort of prey?”
“My dear, I would never,” he bowed his head and kissed your neck.
“And yet I find myself on the ground, even though I didn’t put myself here,” you tangled your hands in his hair, your voice wobbly. 
“You’ve always been rather clumsy,” he murmured teasingly. 
You took a deep breath and pushed him away. His lips were still puckered, making you giggle. “Shadowheart told us not to dally,” you reminded him. “And she threatened to kill you, what? Three times?”
“You forget that I’m already dead,” he smiled. “What’s another little death?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
You snorted. “Bad.”
“I thought that was rather clever, actually.”
You rolled your eyes affectionately. “We should really head back.”
Astarion whined and hung his head. “Let me have you again, woman!”
“But you said-”
“I know what I said!” He lifted his head and looked you in the eye. “And while I appreciate your concern, right now, I very much want to be inside of you again.”
You smiled cautiously. “Are you sure?”
He rolled his eyes and kissed you, lowering his body to roll his hips against yours and making his erection very obviously. You jolted at the unexpected sensation and he pulled back.
“Unless this is too much for you,” he searched your face for hesitancy. “You’re probably still sore and we don’t have to rush anything-”
You gripped the back of his head and tightened your fist into his curls. “Please,” you whispered, “fuck me again.”
A wicked grin bloomed on Astarion’s face and he kissed you passionately, rolling his hips against yours for friction. You moaned into his mouth, but he broke the kiss after only a few moments. “Like I said, love, I want to take my time with you.”
He rose up onto his knees and began untying the laces of your pants. You watched him intently and bit your lip as he removed them fully from your legs. He made quick work of his own and crawled back on top of you. His thumb hooked under your panties and his eyes met yours. You nodded and he pulled them down gently and discarded them close by. He then laid beside you, his eyes heavy with lust.
“Come here, precious thing,” he purred and you inched yourself closer to him. “Turn around,” he instructed. You gave him a confused half smile but did what he asked. He reached forward and pulled your hips back, causing you to feel his still-clothed cock against your ass.
“What are you doing?” you asked nervously. 
Astarion chuckled. “Not that, fear not.” He kissed your shoulder as he slid his left arm under you and settled his hand on your lower stomach. A chill ran through you as he nuzzled his head onto your shoulder. “Fair warning,” you could hear the mischief in his voice as his right hand made itself known in front of your face. He wiggled his fingers in a delicate wave, then brought it down between your thighs. 
A gasp escaped your throat when you felt his fingers swipe through your folds.
Astarion tilted his head and kissed your throat. “So wet already, darling.”
“You’re handsome,” you said by way of explanation.
He hummed against your shoulder and began to rub your clit. A shuddering breath left your mouth and your eyes fluttered shut. Astarion paused for a moment to lift your leg and hike it back over his. “This will feel good,” he said against your skin and dragged his fingers through your folds again before inserting a digit into your cunt. 
You threw your head back in surprised pleasure, which made Astarion turn and nip at your ear. He began pumping and curling his finger slowly inside of you. Your breath caught when his thumb resumed its spot on your clit and whined when his finger inside of you hit a particularly sensitive spot. He adjusted his angle to hit it repeatedly. 
“Astarion,” you moaned, your head clouded with nothing but ecstasy. 
“Yes, my sweet, you’re gripping me so tight,” his voice was sensual in your ear. “Do you think you can take a little more?”
You nodded, your eyes shut tight. 
“Words, darling.”
“Another…” you said breathily.
“Another what?”
Your voice was sing-songy. “Astarion, if you don’t put another finger in me right now, I’m leaving you.”
He laughed loudly before moving his mouth close to your ear again. “You like me too much.” Then he leaned up a little to catch your eye, his finger still pumping between your thighs. “Right?”
You smiled sympathetically, seeing your words had spooked him a little. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” you clarified. “But I might kill you.”
“Got it,” Astarion dragged his index finger through your folds, then carefully added it to your cunt alongside his middle finger. 
You exhaled, moving your hand down from his cheek to his hand resting on your stomach. You laced your fingers together and squeezed when he hit a particularly good spot, getting you to moan out an, “Oh, gods.”
“Like that?” He asked cockily, reaching and curling to hit the spot again. 
“Yes, my love,” you sighed, grinning upwards with your eyes closed. 
Behind you, you felt Astarion’s cock twitch.
Your eyes opened and you looked back at him. 
He smiled back at you sheepishly. “It does that sometimes, darling. When something is particularly arousing.”
Your breaths were coming out short and keeping in time with the pumping of his fingers. “Was it… ‘my love?’”
Astarion let out a low moan and hid his face in your shoulder before reemerging and nodding. “Coming from you while you’re in the throes of passion with me is really… something.”
You laughed between whimpers. “My… loooooove,” you sang, squeezing his hand again. “Your fingers feel heavenly, my looooove.”
“Fuck this,” Astarion said, pulling his fingers out of you unceremoniously and curling you forward with his body so he could shimmy out of his underwear. 
“What are you doing,” you winced and whined childishly, “I was so close!”
“Unfortunately, darling, if I’m not inside you within a matter of seconds, I’m going to lose it completely.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” you said, half dazed and still coming down from your almost climax. 
You felt his hand bump your ass as he pumped his cock and you instantly went stiff. “You’re not going to…?”
Astarion let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, my sweet, you’re not nearly ready for something like that yet.”
A relieved sigh escaped you. 
“We could always work our way up-”
“No, that’s okay,” you said quickly. 
“There’s nothing wrong with-”
“No, of course not-”
“But we can-”
“Let’s not talk about this now,” you patted Astarion’s cheek.
“Understood,” he nodded and resumed pumping his cock. “Hook your leg back over mine, darling.” When you followed his instruction, he kissed your shoulder once more. You felt the head of his cock glide through your folds until it prodded at your entrance and you let out a shaky exhale. “Don’t be scared,” he muttered, squeezing your hand. “Are you ready?”
You inhaled. “Yes.”
Just as he had last night, Astarion was slow to enter you. This time you heard him whimpering with his mouth so close to your ear. 
“Fuck,” he murmured, dragging his fangs from your shoulder to your neck, “still so tight.”
“Obviously,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut, but not feeling nearly as uncomfortable as you had the first time he’d entered you. You let out a satisfied exhale when his hips bumped your ass. 
“Let me know what I can move,” Astarion said against your skin, his words barely recognizable. 
“You can move,” you said almost immediately, reaching a hand up behind you and twisting it into Astarion’s hair. You moved it over a little to play with the tip of his ear.
He let out a loud groan and snapped his hips forward, probably with more force than he meant to. “Apologies,” he whispered, “that felt heavenly.”
“Keep going, my love,” you encouraged and he caught your eye with a seductive smile. 
He continued to pump his cock into your dripping hole and brought his right hand down to your clit. He licked a stripe from your neck up to your ear. “You know, I really did intend to take my time with you just now,” he spoke lowly from the back of his throat. As if to illustrate his point, he slowed his hips to take long, languid strokes out, and then moved back into you at an equally slow pace. His thumb on your clit slowed as he disconnected his left hand from yours and brought it up to fondle your breast. He kissed up your shoulder to your neck sloppily and sucked on the fading bite marks from last night. 
You moaned loudly, hooking your foot around his calf and tightening your fist in his hair. “We’d really be dallying, then,” you commented.
He made a frustrated noise. “Don’t even allude to the cleric right now,” he pulled away from your neck. “Unless it’s to tell me I’m a much better lover than her.” He snapped his hips into you, hard. 
“I don’t have much of a reference, genius,” you responded breathlessly. 
“Right,” he said, and picked up speed at your clit. His mouth returned to sucking on your throat. 
“Oohhh,” you sighed. You let out a gasp when Astarion’s left hand pinched your nipple.
“You feel wonderful, my darling,” spit connected him to your neck.
“So do you,” you brought your hand up to cover Astarion’s that was kneading your breast. “You can bite me, if you want.”
He groaned loudly and bumped his nose against your jaw. “Well,” he said between thrusts, “if you insist.” 
He kissed your throat before biting down, his hips instantly picking up speed. 
The ice that shot into your veins was a shock as always, but melted into a fuzzy pleasure that had your eyes drooping in ecstasy. 
Astarion took long pulls of your blood as he continued thrusting, circling your clit, and needing your breast. How he was keeping track of everything at once was beyond you in this pleasant, foggy state. 
“Darling,” he pulled away suddenly, swallowing loudly and seemingly out of breath. “May I taste you as you come?”
Your tongue lolled to the side, but his voice snapped you out of it. You nodded up at him. “Yes, please.”
“What do you need?” He licked the wounds on your neck. 
“As much as I’m enjoying you taking your time,” you said, “harder and faster.”
“Easy,” a cocky grin graced his face as a drop of your blood dripped down his chin. 
His hips picked up a brutal pace that nearly had you reaching your peak, and he pressed further onto your clit, his tight circles picking up speed as well. 
“Oh, Astarion,” you moaned loudly, reaching back again to grip his hair.
“Come for me, dearest,” he spoke softly against your throat, but loud enough that you could hear, “I want to hear you sing again. I want to taste how sweet your blood is when I make you cum on my cock.” He continued leaving sloppy kisses against your neck.
“I’m close,” you confirmed, your eyes shut tight and your body tensing. 
“Go ahead, love, I’ve got you,” his hard thrusts were becoming uneven, but ever the professional, his voice remained mostly even. “You’re so tight and warm, thank you for letting me taste you.” He kissed your mouth. “Darling.” Another kiss. “Beloved.” One more. “Mine.”
You cried out as you fell over the edge, your cunt squeezing his cock repeatedly, only to cry out again as you felt Astarion’s fangs enter your neck once more. 
“Astarion!” You shouted, squeezing his hand and pulling his hair and wrapping your shaking leg around his. Almost simultaneously, you felt Astarion spill inside you as he moaned your name loudly into your neck, his hips pulsing clumsily against you. 
The sensation of him drawing your blood was still pleasantly fuzzy, but you could feel yourself becoming light headed. You tapped his arm twice, your signal for him to stop, and he pulled away, leaning his forehead against your temple and breathing heavily. 
“Still cumming,” he groaned and clenched his teeth, his hips faltering in their rhythm. 
After another moment, his body finally relaxed and he pulled you closer into his chest, catching his breath. “That was… amazing,” he sighed happily, leaning forward to lick the remaining blood from your neck. “If I knew blood could taste that good-” His voice trailed off. “Well, I’m sure I’d do something about it if I could.” He seemed pleased with his own answer and hummed contentedly behind you.
“I’m glad it was to your liking,” you said, looking back at him with a smile. He bent forward and kissed you happily. “I’m like a fine vintage,” you teased.
Astarion pursed his lips. “You’re far from vintage, darling, you’ll have to work on your wine related japes.” 
You laughed and a comfortable silence fell between you. Astarion rested both of his hands on your stomach. Which growled suddenly.
“What’s that like?” He teased, licking a wayward drop of blood from the side of his mouth. 
Your body tensed. “Oh gods, bread and cheese!”
Astarion blinked at you. “Are those some sort of new deities I’m not aware of, or-?”
“No, that’s what Gale said we’re having for lunch.”
“And that’s important because-?”
“Because we DALLIED and there’s a PARTY tonight and now Shadowheart is going to KILL us.”
“I see.” Astarion remained still, fixed in place. Then suddenly he was pulling out of you at a breakneck speed and reaching for his clothes. 
You winced a little at the sensation but scrambled for your own clothes, wiping yourself down with the cloth Astarion provided again and got dressed in what was probably record time. 
Incredibly, you both looked presentable. 
“We do make a gorgeous pair,” Astarion cocked his hip and smirked at you, going in for a kiss.
You swatted him away. “Enough flirting, loverboy, we can talk about us later!” You started reaching for blankets and pillows. 
“Us,” Astarion stood on the sidelines, testing out the word on his tongue. “I do so like the sound of that.”
“Help me, would you?” You threw a pile of blankets at him, hitting him in the face and blowing his hair back. 
He groaned. “It should be a crime to rush after you’ve just made love to the most amazing woman.” He came up behind you and smacked your butt teasingly. 
You stood up straight and tried to look angry. “We are going to die if we don’t head back right now.” Astarion wasn’t buying your anger, so you turned bashful. “You made loooove to me?” You clasped your hands together by your face. “You think I’m amaaaazing?” You twirled some of your hair for good measure.
Astarion sighed. “Be serious, woman, we’re going to die!” His voice was exasperated but he smirked at you. He bent to pick up more blankets and pillows and you did the same until you both had piles you could barely see over and nothing was left behind.
“Ugh, I’m going to have to do so much laundry,” you muttered. “Seriously, how did you manage bringing all this out here?”
“Well first, everything was folded neatly.”
“We don’t have time.”
“And second, multiple trips, darling.”
“We can’t afford to leave camp EVER again.”
Try as you might to rush back to camp, you still had to maneuver through a forest and be careful where you stepped. The pair of you moved as quickly as you could, which wasn’t as fast as was probably necessary to avoid Shadowheart’s ire. 
“Soooo…” You broke the silence after a few moments. 
“Gods,” Astarion rolled his eyes, “what?”
“‘My love,’ huh?” You waggled your eyebrows at him.
“What about it?”
“You liiiiiiked it,” you teased. 
“I-” You could see that he thought about arguing but decided not to. “I’m not used to the pet names turned on me. It’s… nice.”
“You’re cute,” you said, looking over at him affectionately and nearly tripping over a tree root as a result.
Astarion snickered, then made his face serious. “I’m the furthest thing from cute. I’m a horrifying monster.” He lowered his voice as if that would back him up.
“Yeah, but you like being mushy.” 
“I do not.”
“You do!” You moved closer to him and bumped his hip with your own. “You were so sweet to me yesterday. And just now.” 
“It’s different with you,” he said quietly.
“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows.
“It’s… um… This is stupid, I hate it.” He tried to walk ahead of you but you caught up easily.
“No, no! Please.” You gave him a reassuring look. “I, of all people, will not judge you.”
He sighed. “It’s just… nice to feel like something is mine.” He was quick to correct, “Not that I own you but… I don’t know. You’re not a victim. Not a target. Not just… one night it’s better to forget. You’re something entirely new.”
You smiled over at him. “I like you too, weirdo.”
Astarion humphed. “Whatever.” He moved closer and bumped your hip with his own. The two of you shared a fond look, then turned back to the path ahead.
If Shadowheart was going to kill you, at least you’d die together. 
You both quickened your pace to try and avoid that fate, but it was a lovely thought.
Soon, you began to make out the bright colors of your tents through the trees and the sound of your companions chatting by the fire. 
You turned to Astarion. “See you on the other side.”
He nodded, determined. “It’s been a pleasure servicing you, darling.”
“I hope she kills you first.”
You shared a laugh before you took a calming breath. 
And stepped into camp. 
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enjolrasoftheday · 1 day
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Hello!! Do you know any good Enjolras/Grantaire fics ? Asking for scientific purposes only, naturally
Well, if it's in the name of science...
I do have some recommendation lists in my fic rec tag, and I absolutely still stand by those. But! Here are some more recent fics, in no particular order, that I've enjoyed (and may or may not have speed-read in the last week since receiving this ask, I swear I wasn't ignoring you, I was just conducting important research lol). I’m not going to include the tags/warnings for each fic, so remember to take a look at those on ao3!
Also if anyone else has any recs, feel free to add them in the comment or reblogs!
Happy reading!!
Seek and Destroy by pumpkinspiceprouvaire (27,102 words)
Because Grantaire doesn’t feel that way about him. Grantaire is his friend, and Enjolras will love him from a distance, and that’s the way it’s always been, the way it’s always going to be. Enjolras’ blood freezes in his veins. It’s so obvious. This isn’t Grantaire.
restoring the balance by televisionbodies (14,427 words)
“How long are you stuck here?” He thinks for a moment. “The next train is in about five hours time. And then I’ve got work again, tomorrow.” “No wonder you wanted a coffee,” the bartender murmurs. “Well, then. You’ve got plenty of time to let me show you around.” — It’s 12:36am on a Wednesday and Enjolras, consumed with his work, has missed the last train home.
Les beaux cheveux que voilà by GayAvocado (9,184 words)
One should always have a hair tie around their wrist. If not for their own hair, for others’, or for the multitude of mundane situations that require a hair tie. So of course Grantaire has a hair tie around his wrist tonight. A pink one that might have belonged to Jehan or Azelma or both at some point. The neon colour will look lovely in the middle of Enjolras' golden curls. Or: For some reason, Grantaire finds himself braiding Enjolras’ hair way more often than he thought he ever would. Things change between them.
And Pages To Go by femmebingley (5,441 words)
Grantaire loses his sketchbook. /// “You’ve had it this whole time?” Grantaire couldn’t even find enough indignation to cover his growing terror. “Did you open it?” Enjolras sighed, and that was it. Grantaire’s life was over.
Lost in All of Our Vices by cx_shhhh (11,220 words)
“You will be banished for an indeterminate amount of time and stripped of your godly abilities,” Javert announces, voice booming in the echoing hall, not unlike the thunder he represents. “Until you learn that order is necessary for the gods to stay in power, that the respect of mortals is valuable to us, and until you learn to love them wholeheartedly, you will live like one.” Basically, Enjolras is banished from the heavens, and he learns that a god can, indeed, fall in love.
The Worst First Date by kjack89 (3,443 words)
Enjolras sat down at his desk, fresh mug of coffee in front of him, and took a moment to adjust the ring light behind his cellphone before taking a deep breath and pushing record. “So, um, I hope no one minds but we are taking a break today from our usually scheduled ranting at various governmental institutions because one of my best friends wants me to do a TikTok that’s part of this viral trend.” Or, the one where Enjolras makes a TikTok about his first date with Grantaire.
Green Rushes by loverism (6,043 words)
The mermaid, Enjolras, bites his lip, glaring at Grantaire like he's trying to determine whether he's serious. Grantaire supposes he was probably raised on stories of how evil the cave-witches are, how deceitful; how they mock everything they speak of; how they're driven only by profit; and above all, how striking a bargain with one of them is never, ever worth it. Grantaire can't exactly call those stories inaccurate. or: grantaire is a sea witch chilling in a cave, mixing potions and trying to mind his own business. enjolras has other ideas.
Love is Blind by kjack89 (32,982 words)
Enjolras sat down in front of the camera, and the producer just off-screen gave him a reassuring smile. “Nothing to it,” the producer promised. “Just introduce yourself and tell everyone why you’re here.” Enjolras jerked a nod before looking into the camera. “My name is Enjolras,” he said. “I’m 31 years old, and I’m here because this is the first season that this show has been open to queer contestants.” The producer cleared his throat. “So do you believe Love is Blind?” he prompted. Enjolras gave the camera a smile. “Well,” he said. “That’s what we’re here to find out.”
Love Bites by ShameDumpster (9,557 words)
"What—" Enjolras says, breath hitching at the sight, “What are you doing?” Grantaire immediately freezes, and then pulls back, slightly. Even still, it’s closer than they’ve ever actually been, barely a foot between their faces. "I…need to bite you?" he says, managing to sound both wry and nervous at the same time, "How exactly did you think this worked?" In which Grantaire has recently been turned into a vampire, and Enjolras offers to help him. For the Same-Prompt Fic Challenge 2022
Tell Me Why (Ain’t Nothin but a Heartache by cs_shhhh (3,281 words)
It starts slowly, of course. Grantaire already pays too much attention to Enjolras, so it’s easy to spot the white petals, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Enjolras seems to grow angrier and angrier when the coughing starts interrupting his speeches, so much that Combeferre has to take over after pushing a glass of water towards him, and he casts the flowers to the ground, glaring at them.
anything you want, boy (i can make it happen) by thewalrus_said (3,545 words)
As he’d been falling asleep, he’d expected to feel devastated, or heartbroken, or something negative after a clearly one-off night with the object of his long-held desires, but instead he just feels...satisfied, almost content. Enjolras clearly finds him at least physically desirable, and he’s apparently in Enjolras’ head at least a little bit, and that turns out to be enough for him. He’s finally had sex with Enjolras, and while it hadn’t been what he’d secretly hoped for, it had still been good, and so the memory doesn’t drag him down like he’d feared it might. So when he answers a knock on his door a week later to find a breathless Enjolras, who immediately pushes his way into Grantaire’s apartment and says, “I think we should have sex again,” he’s more than a little taken aback.
The Arms of the Ocean, so Sweet and so Cold by ShameDumpster (11,867 words)
Sirens attack the crew of the dreaded pirate ship, the Musain. They send out Enjolras to deal with it, as in the past, he’s proven himself to be unaffected by their song. Unfortunately for him, as he’s told Grantaire many times, things can (and do) change. And this change may leave his life, and heart, in the balance.
It Only Takes a Meow-ment by cx_shhhh (7,158 words)
“The prince is finally putting out a challenge for his hand. He has a very loyal cat, you see. Whichever suitor, man or woman, can obtain the ring attached to the bow around its neck will be given the time of day.” Or Enjolras is oblivious, and it impacts everyone around him in the best way possible.
neon loneliness by dyhtps (4,345 words)
He lets his gaze fall around the kitchen. A coffee mug left out on the side, a tea-towel hung over the oven handle, even one of those awful kiss the cook aprons that he figures must belong to Enjolras’ boyfriend. Grantaire blames the concussion for the sudden, awful sinking feeling in his stomach. He decided he hates the mystery boyfriend, maybe he's been an arse to future Grantaire before and it's just his subconscious warning him to get away from the guy as quick as he can. or Grantaire loses his memory, is jealous of Enjolras' mystery boyfriend and finally realises that's actually him.
visiting hours by televisionbodies (5,731 words)
”I guess I’m just surprised you’re still in here at all.” “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Enjolras says smoothly, knowing exactly what Grantaire means. “Two months?” One side of Grantaire’s mouth is turning upwards. “I didn’t think you were capable of sitting still that long.” — 5 times grantaire visits enjolras in prison, and 1 time he doesn’t have to.
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coeluvr · 3 days
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would you say being an author on tumblr is hard? in the sense that everything you say is technically the law in your world. does that change the way you approach asks or is it not something that you really feel? especially since it’s very easy for others to interpret differently what the story/you said, which is also kind of the point of literature i guess. and asks feel so necessary too so readers can holistically understand the story and the characters, but like you can’t sometimes answer because it’s part of the plot. sending pomegranate baskets to you because i wouldn’t want to deal with that dilemma lol
In that sense, I think it's hard at the beginning because you're just excited and answer any question even if you're not certain about it and then if you change things then people might feel upset lol. If you plan on starting an IF or anything then don't feel scared by all the issues you mentioned, it's not that big of a deal if you say something then change it!
I don't find it hard anymore if I'm being honest, my lips are shut about the actual plot points. ✨️
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solaris-amethyst · 18 hours
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🪻Please save Mr. Fishy🪻
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✨Pairing: non idol!Hendery x vet!gn!reader ✨Prompt: You're a vet and he's pleading with you to save his goldfish since you're the only vet he's visited that hasn't asked him if he doesn't just want to go and buy another goldfish for three dollars. ✨Word count: 1 408 words. ✨Genre: fluff, humor ☀️Authors note: I've never really written humor before, I'm not even sure I did a good job so do let me know if it was good or not. Or if you just enjoyed this one shot or not?🥰 Also I am not a vet nor a vet student so take what I've written with a grain of salt lol. I am no expert when it comes to fishes and vet terms😅
Today was not like any other day at the clinic. It was unusually calm for a vet clinic and maybe you should enjoy the serenity which is often times unusual for you. Your colleagues had gone for their lunch breaks since it was so calm with not a soul in sight and you decided that sorting through the boxes would be a good thing to do now. Sort out what would be necessary to keep and what could actually be thrown away. Your colleague, Sam, had mentioned that everyone always said they'd sort the boxes out but no one had the time nor energy to do so.
"Let's see what we got then." You mumbled to yourself as you put on the radio, enjoying the slow tune of Celine Diones It's all coming back back to me now, the slow piano in the begging matching the calmness as you hummed along while pouring everything on the front desk. Pens, erasers, bobby pins, receipts, pieces of chocolate and much more fell out of the box. You started by going through all of the receipts, some of them were simple lunch receipts that your colleagues must have put in the boxes when they had bought lunch. You threw them all away in the trash can, they were more than a month old and it was hard to imagine anyone really would need a month old food receipt. Next came organizing all of the paperclips, there were way more than you had anticipated but it was nice finally having a lot of them again after going months not figuring out where all of them had gone. The chocolate you put in a little bowl and put at the front of the desk to give to any owners coming in that might need some extra reassurance or something to calm their nerves as their beloved pet was taking in for surgery or a check up. Just as you were collecting all of the colorful pens to put away in the pen holder you saw outside of the big windows o your clinic a man rushing with incredible speed, you could not help but follow his eyes as he rushed towards the clinics doors, almost slipping past them only managing to stop himself by grabbing onto the door handle simultaneously as he slipped down because of his speed. The wet pavement and the autumn leaves probably made it even more slippery and from what you could see and hear he had let out a shout in surprise whilst looking down at something he was holding. You started to clear some space on the desk in case he were to enter and just as you looked up again the door flew open and the man who had brown hair and a khaki green autumn jacket on barged in looking around until he saw you. "Help! Please you have to help me!" He said before rushing up to you and putting something on the desk.
"Please help save Mr. Fishy!! I cannot live without him! He's my best friend and number one supporter please I need to have him live longer!!"
You stared at him in shock not expecting him to barge in and hurriedly put a fishbowl on your desk, a fishbowl which had a very sad looking goldfish in it.
"Oh umm hello? Of course I can try and help you? What seems to be the problem with umm.. Mr. Fishy?" You asked him before looking down at the fish to see if you could figure out what the problem might be.
"No please I cannot buy another one for three doll-wait what?! You-you'll help me??" This made you look up at the man who looked at you in shock.
"Of course, we're a vet clinic and while a gold fish usually isn't a part of our visitors I cannot say no to you? I'll do my best to help your fish if you know what the problem might be?"
"Oh thank you thank you for wanting to help him! Everyone I've gone to have just told me to go and buy another one for three dollars. He suddenly started to swim weirdly and he hasn't been eating properly for a few days and I'm really worried. Just please do whatever it takes to help him. He's my favorite fish please and the snails in his tank would be so sad if he suddenly disappeared and the guppys and the discus will all be so sad if he passes away hes like the boss of the aquarium everyones best friend so please please please help him!!" The man was practically leaning over on the desk begging for you to help his fish and you couldn't help but feel bad for him. He obviously cared about the fish a lot.
"Let me take him inside to the vet room and check on him okay? You wait out here and try to calm down and then we can fix with payment and such after it." You gave him a smile as he thanked you profusely before allowing you to take the fishbowl with his little fish he cared for into the other room. As you walked in you put the bowl down on a table and put on some gloves so you can handle the fish carefully.
"Let's figure out what is wrong with you my little friend." You mumble for yourself as you put your hands into the bowl carefully to look closer at him.
-
It took you a while to figure out what was wrong with the little guy, he was having a case of fin rot on one of his fins, at first it wasn't very visible until you looked closer, you had to remove a part of his fin-nippers and use some anti-fungal treatment to make sure that he doesn't get infected again. When you walked out with the little fish the man stood up and rushes to the counter staring at you with hope.
"You do not have to worry, Mr. Fishy is alright. I had to remove a part of his fin-nippers because he had a case of fin rot. I've given him treatment but what you need to do to make sure hes okay in your tank at home is to improve the water quality in the tank and feed him vitamin c enriched food and he should be good to go."
"Oh thank you thank you thank you!!" He bowed towards you multiple times "What's your name?? I need to have a name for Mr. Fishy's savior!!" He stares at you with grateful eyes.
"My name is y/n. I'm glad I could help you and Mr. Fishy."
"Thank you again! I'm Hendery by the way! I'll pay however much it cost and I'll pay you back for your kindness."
You thanked him and told him he really did not have to pay you back a part from paying the fee. He payed and told you he'd pay you back for sure in the future before going back with his fish and the new food for his friend.
-a few days later-
The doorbell rang as the door opened again and when you looked up from the desk you saw Hendery walking in beaming as he was holding a cup walking towards you.
"I told you I'd pay you back! I got you a cup of hot chocolate! I wasn't sure If you'd like coffee but most people like chocolate so I got that!" He smiled as he handed you the cup.
"Thank you Hendery it wasn't really necessary for you to get me something I promise." you responded as you took the cup
"I wanted to okay? I gotta go but I'll see you around!" He waved as he ran out of the door again and when you looked at the cup you could see he had written a little note thanking you and asking if you wanted to hang out in the future with his number written under a little fish drawing.
You smiled as you took up your phone to put in his number, saving him as Mr. Fishy Hendery before deciding to send a text asking if he was free to hang out next Friday, smiling even brighter when you immediately got a text back saying that Friday would be perfect.
Maybe it wasn't so bad after all to help save Mr. Fishy.
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ivy-and-ivory · 9 months
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Hey :) So the next time you hear me start to say :) hmmmm :) maybe I should set this fic in a highly specific real-world location :) that might be kind of fun :) the next time I say that :) please :) for the love of god :) somebody :) fucking :) stop :) me :)
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itspileofgoodthings · 5 months
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(Sorry if I’ve asked you this at some point) Have you ever used GKC in the classroom? If so what book/essay did you use? If not, what would you like to use?
Thank you for asking! Yes, I’ve taught his essay on The Macbeths a couple of times. We read it as an accompaniment to us reading the play itself. (Naturally haha.)
I love love love that essay so much (obsessed with it actually) but the actual teaching of it didn’t go super well. I think I might need to give it one more shot! But my experience of it was that the kids didn’t really connect or understand the language except when I translated it and because his words on Macbeth shaped a large part of my understanding of the play anyway I am pretty much already doing that! I already talk about how they are the Most Married Couple because GKC was dead on about that (Joseph Pearce do not interact!) and so the kids are already getting the heart of it just filtered through me. He’s just too Not Accessible for them. His references and sentence structure and most of all his analogies don’t just distract them from his main point, they can’t even find what it is. (I remember they were so confused about the every flirtation is a marriage line and couldn’t pick themselves up to move on faster.) Also I remember one student having SUCH a strong negative reaction to his style which was totally fair but I was also like, okay I don’t love this and it’s not productive. I like the outside sources I share to be a lens for them to view the work more clearly without personal reactions getting in the way. And Chesterton evokes such strong reactions. So I think of Chesterton as one of the sources that feeds ME (I say this like I read him all the time in a scholarly way when really I’ve read a handful of essays and they are burned into my brain; I’m too exhausted to do any reading of my own) but that’s the idea. I become the translator/lens for the kids.
But you know what, I should probably do one of his poems at some point because they should memorize some. Will take poetry recs of his!!!
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not-poignant · 1 year
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*waves* I want to start off by saying that your works have been a huge comfort in my life over the years. They've helped me through some really trialing times and I'm forever thankful for everything you've done, even when life hasn't been kind to you. I've slowly been coming to terms with the fact that I have chronic pain, maybe fatigue too, unknown still. But it's been a hard pill to swallow, I feel so angry that I can't do stuff. Do you or any of your followers have advice for accepting this?
Hi anon,
Firstly, I'm so sorry you're going through this process, especially one that also involves fatigue, because fatigue is a son of a bitch. (You can - to a degree - treat some forms of pain, but there's almost nothing out there for genuine fatigue except rest and the core needs, and even then, it rarely listens).
My advice is going to be from stuff I've mostly learned for myself, but everyone's journey is different. What I like to tell myself might hurt someone else, so if I say anything here that doesn't work for you, remember it's important to find your own things too.
If necessary, look for support groups, if you have no diagnosis yet but have chronic pain and fatigue, groups for ME/CFS (Myalgic Encephalitis / Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) and Fibromyalgia are probably the best places to start.
As for advice, the first is that it's normal to be angry and it's normal to feel betrayed (by your body and by a very ableist society) and it's normal to feel sad and upset. Acceptance isn't the absence of these feelings, it's not a place you get to where you transcend these emotions, because it's normal to grieve what the course of life has taken from you. And part of the journey of chronic illness re: accepting where you find yourself, is also accepting the emotions that come with it, even if they feel really ugly or you don't want them. Not being able to do stuff you used to do, or the way you used to do it - of course you'd be angry, because that's loss. And loss by nature, creates grief.
Acceptance is the moment - for me - where you have a bad day re: anger and resentment and can stop and go 'oh of course I feel this way, I have lost a lot, but even though I'm annoyed or angry at my body today, I'm going to be kind to it and care for it to the best of my ability, because I'm sick, and that's what I'd want to do for anyone who was this sick. And I'm going to check if I need to ask for help, and remember that I don't have to do this alone.'
There might come a time when you're ready to brainstorm and problem solve, or days where you have more energy. For example, I can't hike for hours anymore, and haven't been able to for years. But I can stop and think 'what did I like most about hiking?' And it would be - the things in nature I can see. Well, I can still get out to nature, especially on accessible paths, or places that have carparks and botanical gardens. Or it would be physical exertion - well, I can do purposeful physical exertion with very gentle physiotherapy, it's not the same, but it still gives me a feeling of physical accomplishment. Or it would be I really like being in nature - thankfully there are a lot of places you can be in nature if you have friends or Ubers to take you there, and you can also bring nature to you re: plants in the home.
Generally speaking, getting creative with what is lost is part of the process of acceptance. But it doesn't always come straight away, and it doesn't always come without resentment. I have days where I'm still fiercely, fiercely angry that I can't do the things that I used to do. The fact is, the world is ableist, friends have internalised ableism, I'm often feeling guilty or frustrated that I can't do things when I just...can't do them and it's not my fault. I'm just sick.
Definitely consider organising some kind of therapy or even vent sessions with someone you trust (who has the capacity to handle it, though not many folks do, understandably) - medical trauma, and the experience of a chronic illness, can be traumatic. And look around for a good doctor and professional support network.
Pain on its own causes fatigue, so look at enrolling in a pain clinic (they have wait lists, so it's good to get the ball rolling now), and make sure that you've had at the very least a blood panel of your inflammatory markers because many causes of chronic pain can be treated or medically supported.
It's worth making friends with some folks who have chronic illnesses and spoonies, or the people who just 'get it' even if they don't. People who will never pressure you when you have to cancel. People who love you when you don't see them for months at a time. People who understand when you vanish from an online conversation halfway through without saying goodbye. These folks are worth their weight in gold.
There's things like - it's worth exploring concepts like mindfulness in chronic illness, as well as pacing (I hate pacing, but the one time I seriously tried it, I felt better and could do more - it's just so frustrating in concept). It's worth writing down the things that trigger bad episodes of pain or fatigue for you, and then thinking of ways to accommodate those things (for example, socialising causes flares for me, so I don't do it often, and I try not to do too much in one week). Research the 'energy envelope' and learn what yours is.
As to the grief and the anger, this is also something you will go through again and again, though the periods of acceptance may last longer, and feel more genuine. We're not trying to stop the emotions of grief and anger, but it is worth learning how to wrangle those emotions when you turn them against yourself, when you look for something to blame and hurt yourself in the process. Remember, if society accommodated disability and invisible illnesses better, your life would probably be a little easier, some things are actually down to how society treats us. If I knew I could access a program that delivered meals because I'm medically too tired to cook, my life would be easier. So when I go 'fuck my body is useless' - the truth is - society is pretty fucking useless, and my body is doing its goddamn best.
But you can be extremely mad at society for dropping the ball on all of this. Or upset. Or disgusted. Or betrayed. It's all valid. Society drops the ball on chronic pain and illness and fatigue every damn day.
The chronic illness train, for nearly all of us, is one that we board eventually, and it almost always has multiple stops. We never just acquire one thing, because age tends to give us age-related chronic illnesses too (arthritis, hypertension, type 2 diabetes, osteoporosis, etc.). These declines can each come as a new shock, and going through one new illness or symptom isn't always going to look as the same process that preceded it. A new chronic illness might feel like nothing at all if it's easy to manage (see my acquisition of allergic eczema) or it might hit you really hard if it comes with pretty reduced mortality (see my acquisition of COPD). You might get decades between one thing and the next thing, or you might not, but it's a train that in the course of humankind billions of people have been on.
The people who treat you badly for being sick are the ones who refuse to believe the train exists and that it's coming for them. They often think that if they live 'well enough' they can avoid the train (they can't). Maybe that was something you once believed as well. I know I did (and sometimes still do).
And as for when we treat ourselves badly for being sick - some of it's grief and trauma, and a lot of it is internalised ableism. Having a chronic illness is not your fault anon. Even though it doesn't feel like it, your body is doing its best for you, and the process of acceptance is learning that we need to also do our best for our body, and that we should expect society to do the same, even though it often doesn't.
Idk if this was anything along the lines of what you're looking for. Tbh I still find it really hard. December just gone was one of the hardest months I've ever had the misfortune of living through not just because of chronic illness but because of my emotional reaction to three new diagnoses I wasn't prepared for, and I spiralled hard when I realised just how sick I was (no one likes to see 'possible severe liver disease' on a CT scan). We never just go through the anger or grief once, but it does get easier, and the periods of time where we just make our lives into a new shape that pleases us become longer.
Anon, you will find new things that please you and fulfill you even as you lose old things. The new things won't replace those old things, but they will bring moments of ease and comfort and joy. We all experience this process. But do chase them down. Look for them when you have moments of energy. Seek them out. The simple things in life that nourish you, whether it's soft blankets, or good food, or a particular movie or show, or a book. Pain and fatigue are bitches, but many of us with it are avid collectors of 'things that nourish, fulfill and are joyous to us.'
I wish you well with it all! The chronic illness train can feel like a very lonely one because it races us away from the people in our lives who aren't on it yet - but the truth is hundreds of millions of us are on it right now, and there will be lots of different types of advice and support waiting for you, and very few of them will deny you your anger at the situation you find yourself in. Very few people find themselves excited to board the chronic illness train, and often you don't realise it's picked you up until you learn you can't get off.
That part sucks. But accepting that it sucks goes a longer way than trying to convince yourself it shouldn't.
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ahhhhh, a trained goddamn nurse in this book just told somebody with EMT training to bring him peroxide for a serious stab wound.
This man has been knifed across the gut and you're going to disinfect his wound with PEROXIDE, fuck right off.
[spritzes the author in the face with a water bottle] NO.
I am begging you all, if you're going to write a wound care scene do the minimum of basic research.
Take a single solitary first aid course, the absolute most basic one you can find will tell you all need to know to write a decent wound care scene. Especially do this if your character is supposedly trained in any level of first aid or first response.
Get your friend on facebook or your tumblr mutual or your best friend's kid who just finished their babysitting certification or their lifeguard course to fact check you.
GOOGLE IT "First aid treatment for [wound]"
and then also think it through, if your character is holding pressure on the wound, he is then relying on the bystanders to prep his equipment and to know the specific tools he's asking for and also how is he going to wash his hands and put on the gloves he asked for before starting on cleaning the wound or administering treatment.
Holding a towel or gauze pack on the wound is the unskilled job here, it takes minimal training - you get your bystander(s) to do that shit while you do the stuff that takes specialty knowledge like prep the gear you need for putting stitches in this poor sucker's abdomen. BONUS IF YOU'RE WRITING THIS SCENE YOU DON'T HAVE TO DESCRIBE THE EQUIPMENT YOU NEED, YOU JUST SAY "I got out the suture kit and the other basics I needed to start cleaning and sewing the wound up."
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gojorgeous · 5 months
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"MINE, MINE, MINE."
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pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k
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“No.” 
No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 
“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.
“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.
Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 
Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.
“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 
Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.
The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 
Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 
“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 
Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?
“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 
“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.
Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 
“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 
“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”
You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.
The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?
“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.
You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 
Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 
“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 
Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 
Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”
He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”
Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 
He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 
“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 
Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 
You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 
Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 
For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 
You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.
You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 
Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 
“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 
Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 
“Yes you can. I know you can.” 
You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 
There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 
You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 
Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 
You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 
His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.
“End of discussion.” 
He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.
“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 
“I got you, baby.”
Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.
Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.
~
You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 
You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 
“Feel anything?” he asks. 
You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 
“Sleep, baby.” 
For once, you follow orders without a fight.
Hot. Too hot. 
When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 
You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.
“Deep breaths, baby.” 
Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 
“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 
“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 
You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.
His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 
“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 
Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 
He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 
“No, baby.” 
You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 
“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 
“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 
With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 
“That’s it. Good girl.” 
Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 
“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”
Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 
“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.
“Sugu,” you plead. 
The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 
You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 
“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.
He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 
“S-Sugu…” you whine.
The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 
His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.
But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.
“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 
“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 
Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 
“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 
You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 
He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 
“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 
Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 
“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”
The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…
“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.
His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 
“Sugu–” 
And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 
Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?
Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 
“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 
~
You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 
You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.
“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…
“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 
You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.
You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 
“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 
“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 
Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 
“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 
You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.
When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 
“P-please, please, please–”
He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.
“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 
You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.
When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”
When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.
The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 
It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 
When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.
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taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina
link: alpha!gojo fic
please consider leaving a comment, sending in an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡
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Thank you for documenting my campaign from the following accounts:
@sar-soor @heba-20
@90-ghost @soon-palestine
@ibtisams
I love you all 🙏🙏♥️🌹
I am Mohammed Almanasra, 32 years old, married, and a father of three children: Abdulrahman, 6 years old, Sarah, 4 years old, and Lina, 3 years old.
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My story began with the loss of my parents and four of my sisters who were bombed and lost their lives along with their children after the events of October 7 and the severe war on Gaza. Now, my wife, children, and I are displaced, without parents or siblings, living with our little cat that we embrace among us.
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Recently, I moved to the south of the Gaza Strip, fearing for the lives of my children. We left behind our memories and our new home, for which we had not finished paying the installments, in addition to losing my job. Currently, I live in a tent that does not protect me from the heat of summer or the cold of winter, and without the minimum necessary livinng basics including water, food medical care, clothe and even bedding .
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I suffer from a chronic asthma and severe attacks from tightness and an extreme allergy in the ear and I need medicine that are not available, or very expensive .
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Under these difficult circumstances, after five attempts at displacement and narrowly escaping death from the bombing, I am trying with all my might to protect my family, the most precious thing I have.
My dreams were shattered, and my house was destroyed, and I found myself living in a tent no larger than 4 square metres. My work turned from a tailor to a street vendor in order to barely buy a few crumbs of bread to feed my children.
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My main goal with this donation is to protect my children, my wife, and our scaredy cat and evacuate them to a safe place away from the ongoing wars. The funds will be used to cross the Egyptian border and bring basic needs and treatments to create a more stable conditions for my family. Approximately $18,000 will be allocated for travel expenses, and around $6,000 for securing suitable housing for a couple of months. As for the medical treatment costs, the exact figure will be determined after undergoing examinations in hospitals in the Arab Republic of Egypt & it gonna be in average $8,000. The remaining amount ($8,000) will be used to establish a small project to sustain our daily living, enabling me to provide for my children and wife.
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Look at what happened to my children because of the intense heat and the insects that thrive in the summer season. Every day, I take them to the hospital to treat them due to poisonous insect bites. I implore every kind-hearted soul to help me protect my children.
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My son, Abdul Rahman, has a deep passion for playing football and is a devoted fan of Real Madrid. He always dreamed of playing football at his school, but the war prevented this dream from coming true.
Where are you, Real Madrid fans ?
Help Abdul Rahman achieve his dream.
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Every donation will make an enormous difference in helping me save my family.
I feel very sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know that this request is difficult, but I also know that there is still humanity and living consciences and I believe in miracles.
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Your support during this extremely difficult time will give us hope in the midst of devastation and despair.
If you have any inquiries or questions, feel free to ask me, please!
"I urgently appeal to you for moral and financial assistance to cover the necessary costs to escape to a safe environment, where we can build a secure future for our children and ensure the safety of our family. We thank you for your concern and support, and we hope that you can help us in these difficult circumstances."
@communistchilchuck 🫶🇵🇸
@nabulsi
@sayruq
@communistchilchuck @90-ghost @sar-soor @fairuzfan @ibtisams @fallahifag @vakarians-babe @palipunk @palestinecharitycommissionsassoc @stil-lindigo @vakarian-shepard @northgazaupdates
@faggotfungus @ghost-and-a-half @three-croissants
Sincere greetings & thanks
Mohammed & the family
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deadsetobsessions · 5 months
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Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.
“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”
God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.
Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.
“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”
“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”
“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”
Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.
“What happened?!”
“My word, master Danny!”
“What is it?!”
“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”
Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.
“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”
“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.
“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.
“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”
The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.
“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”
“Danny.”
“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.
“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.
Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.
“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”
Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…
“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”
“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.
“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”
The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.
“Done.”
“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”
“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”
“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”
“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”
“Very well.”
“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.
——
“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”
“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.
“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”
“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”
Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.
“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”
“Tt.”
“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”
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starlightbright · 20 days
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RIP Ricky September they had to kill you because it would have been unrealistic to not keep you on as a companion 😔
EDIT: I've noticed some people taking this post really seriously, so to clarify: no, I don't think Ricky was literally a perfect uwu anti-racist angel. This post was mostly a joke about how he was running around doing companion shit and, most of all, how the Doctor and Ruby both thought he was a hottie. My actual feelings about Ricky are that he's a complacent white liberal. Character reading under the cut if you want an explanation.
I do think the implications of making him unplugged from the racism bubble, paralleling him with the Doctor (man who shows up with knowledge about history and technology and guides the other character through dangerous situations), and directly contrasting to Lindy (including being open to trust the Doctor without second guessing him the same way Lindy and all her friends did) are supposed to be that he wasn't like the other people there and is thus LESS racist since racism comes to be what defines their society. I've seen some people basically ask "then why'd he move to White People City?" but within the text it's actually Rich People City; the reason everyone there is white is because systemic racism financially benefits white people. Making him LESS racist is NECESSARY to giving his death any meaning - because if he definitively would have called the Doctor a slur and walked away, then the Dot killing him quickly was a mercy kill because we KNOW all the other residents are going to die in the wilderness.
THAT SAID, I also don't think he was a progressive anti-racist. Do you know what Ricky actually is? A white liberal. He might disengage from the White People Bubble, he might not be outwardly cruel to black people, but he's still surrounded by people who are and benefits from a system where ONLY WHITE PEOPLE ARE RICH. The culture might be fucked, but he still benefits from it without doing anything to actually fight it. It's like how many a white liberal will read about the history of slavery, feel sad about it, and then be uncritical of prison labor. If Ricky was meant to be progressive, there'd be something, ANYTHING in the text about how he's tried to educate his followers on their society's problems, but it got deleted. He is COMPLACENT.
That's sort of the point, I'd say, since the theme is about how priviledged white people put themselves in a bubble of people like them and choose to look away from what's wrong in society. Those people become complacent at best with no effort to actually speak out or change things. Hell, even within the text, Ricky SEES a problem others are looking away from (the slugs eating people), but only tries to fight it by making a TikTok about it and becomes complacent again, accepting that people are just going to be eaten.
So tl;dr: no, I don't think the white liberal kid literally would have been a companion. I think if you stuck him in the Ood episode, for example, he'd have shaken his head when he found out about their plight, maybe made a TikTok with sad music playing over footage of them, and then said "welp, nothing else can be done." I think it's FUNNY to imagine another companion that the Doctor and Ruby both are giggling like schoolgirls over.
Also I kind of thought he was ugly - no offense to the actor but the makeup they had him in combined with the lighting and closeups made him look way older than 27 so he gave off this uncanny "how do you do fellow kids?" look.
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redsray · 27 days
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i do love the idea of the wayne kids giving bernard shovel talks about taking care of tim and all that but also give me batfam who are just as protective of bernard as they are of each other.
give me bernard, attending his first wayne gala as tim's significant other. having a suit custom tailored and funded by bruce even if bernard insists it's not necessary because he already has one. arriving at the gala anxious because of course he is, it's a goddamn socialite event, but being protected from every side by the wayne kids even when tim is dragged away.
Socialite: Oh, and who might you be?
Bernard: Oh, um, hi. I'm Bernard Dowd, nice to meet you.
Socialite: Dowd? I've never heard of your family before. Who...?
Bernard: I'm not here with my family, miss, I'm here with my boyfriend.
Socialite: ... Boyfriend?
Bernard: Yeah, I'm here with Tim.
Socialite, frowning: Tim... as in Drake-Wayne? He has a boyfriend?
Dick, coming up next to Bernard: He sure does! Bernard here is practically one of ours now, aren't you? He matters to Timmy, so he matters to us.
Bernard: Dick—
Dick: C'mon, let's get you back to Timmy. Farewell, Mrs!
Bernard: I could've handled that.
Dick: All the rules that apply to my siblings during galas apply to you too. I'm sure you could've, but you shouldn't have to. I've got your back too, now, yeah?
Bernard: ... Yeah. Thanks, Dick.
Jason, coming up to Bernard at the bar: Not to freak you out, kid, but there's a guy starin' at ya from the other side of the bar. Y'know him or should I encourage him to look away?
Bernard, startled: Huh? (looks around) Oh. No, I don't know him. Why... is he looking at me like that, actually?
Jason, scowling: 'S just how the slimy fuckers at these events are. Can't keep their eyes off anything that's small, young or pretty. Disgusting. I'll deal with him— where's your annoying other half gone, inferior blondie?
Bernard: Tim? He got pulled away for quote; 'something important' by some lady. He said he'll meet me here after he's done, so I've been waiting.
Jason: Huh. If I see him I'll point him yer way. Hey, don't be 'fraid to ask any of us questions or for help if ya need it. We know the best how daunting this shit can be.
Bernard, genuinely touched: ... Thanks, Jason.
Jason: Yeah, yeah. Don't tell Timmers I said that, though, he'll call me a loser.
Bernard, laughing: I won't.
Bernard, being talked to by several people at once and a bit overwhelmed by the attention: Uh— I'm—
Damian, stepping between him and the socialites: Dowd. I require your assistance.
Bernard: Um— hi, Damian— with what?
Damian: You will see when we get there. Follow me, Drake's more tolerable half.
Bernard: Okay... so what do you need from me?
Damian: Nothing. You seemed to dislike the attention from all of the nosy adults over there. It was the most efficient way of extracting you from the situation.
Bernard: Oh. Thanks, Damian.
Damian: Tt, don't thank me yet, Dowd. I am still criticising your choice in romantic partners.
Bernard: Didn't you threaten me with a katana to not dampen Tim's mood in any way shape or form?
Damian: Slander. I said quote 'if you make Drake more annoying by breaking his heart I'm going to maim you.' I don't see how you got the message you did from that.
Bernard, grinning: Sure, Damian. Sure.
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tanaor · 2 months
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Want to worldbuild like a pro??
(📖 Master tips and everything I know📖)
Hello writers! You don't know how to worldbuild? Don't know where to start explaining the world you have created? Don't worry, you are in the right place! I have been there myself, and after many research (and even more trial and error) I have put together a list of the best worldbuilding tips I have encountered, and also created some of my own. (I know the first one is kind of overheard, but trust me).
Don't start right away with worldbuilding. A long paragraph about how your world works and its history might overwhelm new readers. A lot of other writers suggest waiting and learning about the world at the same time the protagonist does, or if that doesn't work for your story, dropping bits of information while the story moves forward. However, if you want to give a sense of how your world works from the start...
Exposition through action. This is my favorite method, and it helps a lot if you don't want to pause your story to info dump about the world you have created. Instead, this method relies on explaining the world and its dynamics while you continue with the narrative, briefly. For example: "As always, you couldn't see any trees in the meadow. The king had ordered years ago to cut each one of them because of a prophecy that foretold that the last dragon egg would lay in an oak."
Use expressions that reference normality or routines. In the last point, we used "as always", but there are tons of expressions you could use in your writing. This helps the reader understand what is the norm in this new world and what things are common, to later detect something that is not within that norm (or sometimes just to understand the world and its traditions better).
Use flashbacks when necessary. If you need to explain a very specific or detailed topic, I suggest using a flashback scene, that will help the reader understand with the narration and dialogue, instead of just explaining it to them. It makes for a more dynamic learning experience. But, at the end...
Do whatever will intrigue you. Some readers even like info dumps, and there is not one correct way to show your world. If it would make you curious, go and do it, wether people say it's correct or not. There are a lot of successful books that randomly stop to explain something about the world, and there is nothing wrong with that if you like it.
Hope you find this list useful, and as always happy writing :)
Also, if you are interested in tips or more examples of a specific topic, you can always leave a question in my ask. I'd be glad to answer it!!
Other tips for writers: previous | next
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ilyrafe · 1 month
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𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.
pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader
warnings: brief sexual innuendo, rafe being a softie!!!!
word count: 2.6k (i *might* have gotten carried away i'm so sorry lol)
a/n: this is a sequel to late night and also based on this, so thanks @keziahcore ! your mind is literally everything!
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it’s almost like a sixth sense.
rafe feels your absence from the bed, and immediately becomes agitated. he turns on the lamp next to his bed and looks for any sign that you’re still there, and finds your small handbag on the armchair, which makes him just slightly relieved. 
when he looks at the clock, he sees that it is almost two in the morning. the bathroom door is ajar and the lights are off, which means you’re not there. before he can leave his room looking for you, you return, holding a glass of water, wearing only his shirt to cover yourself up.
“where were you? why did you leave me here?”
he can’t control this agony, this anguish that always catches him off guard when he finds himself alone. he can’t help feeling like a time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. the smallest things you do seem to trigger him massively, and he hates that. he hates that he ends up being rude and harsh to you, because you’re always so understanding and sweet.
even he knows he doesn’t deserve you.
“i was thirsty and went downstairs to drink some water.” your tone is sweet and calm, which makes him feel like shit.
his face changes, as he seems to calm down. you didn’t leave him, you just went to get some water. you’re there, your stuff is there, you’re not going anywhere.
“next time, leave a glass here. i don’t like it when you do that.” he says in a much softer tone, but he’s still upset that his sleep got interrupted.
“do what? get hydrated?” you joke, trying to lighten up his mood.
he rolls his eyes and huffs. don’t make him tell the truth.
“go back to bed. i’m tired, alright? i had a long day.”
“actually, i was going to read a book. i’m not sleepy and i don’t want to lie down right now.”
is it so hard to understand that he wants you to be close to him so that he feels safe enough to get a decent night’s sleep?
“you can read on the bed.”
“you won’t mind the lamp on?”
“no, just get the damn book and come back to bed.”
you laugh and nod, picking up the book from his desk and following him to his bed. rafe gets to his spot and as you sit down, he places one hand on your bare thigh and falls back to sleep almost immediately.
while he dives deep into his necessary rest, you start reading. it’s that book, in cold blood by truman capote. you don’t know if rafe is a reader, he never really talks about books with you.
every once in a while, you look down at your thighs to see his hand, firmly holding you, to make sure you won’t leave. this small gesture makes you feel stupid. stupid to believe he might feel something other than lust for you. rafe makes you question your beliefs and that itself makes you feel overwhelmed.
sometimes you want to leave, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. and you have tried countless times. he’s good for you in the same intensity he’s bad. to say you’re scared to ask him what you are would be an understatement, but you just would like some clarification, because you don’t beg the people you’re casually fucking to stay the night almost every night and throw a tantrum when they leave to get some water.
deep down, you know you’re more scared to hear you’re just an easy fuck. at this point, this would tear you apart.
being with rafe is a challenge. it’s like running a marathon you know you will not get to the finish line, and yet, you keep running.
when it’s almost four in the morning, you close the book and turn the lamp off. finally, sleep comes to you, and you settle into his bed, still holding rafe’s hand, which never left your thigh. with the touch, rafe wakes up, and this time he is no longer agitated.
“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you say, as you snuggle into the mattress.
“you- what time is it?” he asks, adorably confused and sleepy.
“it’s almost four.”
“and you’re going to sleep now?”
“yeah. go back to sleep, it’s early.” you say softly, placing a hand on his cheek, and he complies, pulling you close.
(...)
rafe’s alarm clock rings promptly at seven in the morning. he turns it off and goes back to his previous position: hugging you.
your hair smells like coconut and your skin is always soft. he never wants to not be touching you. it’s like your body was made to be next to his. for some reason, just your presence is enough to make him feel calm and at peace.
he places the softest kiss on your shoulder, enjoying the quietness that only early mornings can give him. the sweet sound of birds chirping outside makes him forget about everything else. rafe only has you in his mind (and in his arms).
you wake up and soon turn to face him. rafe has the most adorable sleepy face, and you might never stop melting over him. seeing him up close will never not be amazing. he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. he probably has the most beautiful shade of blue in his eyes.
“go back to sleep.” he whispers.
“‘m not sleepy anymore.” you mumble as you rub your eyes, which rafe finds captivating. “hi.”
“hi,” he smiles. “you only slept for three hours, sleep some more.” he insists, and you feel a tone of concern in his voice, but maybe it’s just your sleep giving you that impression.
“i’m okay, rafey.”
rafey. he hates that stupid nickname, but when it comes out of your mouth, he wants to legally change his name to it.
“you’re gonna be tired.”
“no, i’m not. i don’t normally sleep a lot.”
rafe frowns not because he’s confused - he obviously isn’t. he’s just not liking what you’re saying. he doesn’t like the idea of you struggling with whatever that may be. rafe knows damn well how bad it is to be sleep deprived, he doesn’t want you going through that.
“you have insomnia?”
“i guess i do,” you shrug. “i don’t really know. i just don’t sleep a lot. i wish i did, though. i get so jealous when i see you sleeping for hours on end.” you smile sweetly at him. “you’re so relaxed. must be nice…”
you let go of rafe after leaving a timid kiss on his lips, and stretch before getting up and going to his bathroom to start your morning routine.
after a quiet breakfast, rafe gives you a ride home, and he can’t hide his concern about what you said.
“i’ll see you around, yeah?” you tell him, with the sweetest smile you always have.
“of course. uh, about that sleep thing… if you need help with that… i’m here.”
“rafe, i think you might be a sex addict.” you joke, really not understanding what he meant. he isn’t talking about sex. the one time he isn’t talking about sex, you don’t get it.
“well, i’m just one call away.”
you chuckle and intend to kiss his cheek, but rafe is quick enough to turn his face and make you kiss his lips. you laugh at his antics.
silly rafe is your favorite. if only other people got to see this side of him.
he watches you leave his car and get inside your home. the strange feeling of loneliness comes back almost immediately, but it gets him thinking. it has to be some sort of irony that the person that quite literally helps him sleep isn’t sleeping.
(...)
only two days have passed and rafe already needs you to spend the night at his house again. he is so tired and exhausted. he takes out his phone and quickly types a message.
rafe: are u busy right now? can i pick u up?
you don’t tend to take long to respond to his texts, but this time, an hour goes by and nothing, so rafe starts to feel that unbearable anguish again, and starts to think that you left him and that you found someone better to spend you time with.
impulsively, rafe facetimes you, and you answer. from your face alone, he can see the tiredness in your eyes. or rather, in your dark circles. you’re in your bedroom, which makes him feel calmer.
“hi, rafey. sorry, i just got my phone.”
“what are you doing?”
“i’m studying for my exams.”
“i just wanted to know if i could pick you up.”
“i’d love to,” you smile. “but it’s not a good idea, i need to study and i have a mountain of books to read until tomorrow if i want a good grade, which i do.”
“you’re tired, you should rest.” he advises, visibly worried.
“nothing a can of red bull can’t fix.” you say showing him the can.
“y/n, please go to sleep.”
something about his request makes you angry. maybe it’s the stress, or the fact that this time rafe is right.
“rafe, you’re not my boss. i need to hang up, i got shit to do.”
before he can protest, you hang up the call, and surprisingly, rafe doesn’t get angry. this is what it’s like when he’s sleep deprived.
as always, rafe wants to take control of the situation, so he puts on a hoodie, grabs his car keys and leaves his house to go to yours. it’s late at night, and rafe knows your parents are probably asleep.
the path is short, and soon he arrives in front of your house and the light is on in your bedroom, which tells him that you are still up. carefully, rafe gets out of his car and walks to the back of your residence, and climbs the wall, always making sure he doesn’t get caught by anyone. finally, rafe gets on the small balcony of your room and sees you surrounded by papers, books and notebooks. it’s a mess.
he knocks on the glass door, which startles you, but you soon calm down when you see it’s him. you almost run to open the door, but your face isn’t the happiest.
“what are you doing here, rafe?”
“nice to see you, too.” he ironizes as he steps inside your bedroom. “i have a proposition for you.”
“i’m so not in the mood, rafe…”
“listen to me.” he says. “i’ll… i’ll help you out with this stuff, as long as you let me help you sleep.”
“i don’t wanna have sex.”
“i’m not talking about sex.”
oh.
“you mean… sleep? like, really sleep?”
“yeah. i don’t like that you sleep so little. you’re becoming cranky.”
you chuckle at the last bit. you can’t stay mad at him, can you?
“that’s a nice offer, rafe, but what do you know about biology?”
“i’ll have you know i was a good student.” he pouts and you laugh. “even if i don’t know what you’re studying, i’ll help you out.”
it takes you a few seconds, but it’s decided. your body is about to give out, you really need to rest. you can’t absorb any more information. a good sleep might even help you learn whatever you need.
“okay.”
rafe smiles and it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
you begin to organize all your notes and books on your desk and rafe begins to undress down to his underwear, and gets comfortable on your bed. he realizes this is his first time sleeping on your bed, and he already likes the faint smell of rosemary that your bedroom exudes.
you have such a pretty bedroom. the walls are painted in the softest shade of blue, and you have books everywhere. no wonder you’re so smart, you read a lot.
the wooden furniture gives an earthy feel to your room, contrasting with the delicacy of the light blue walls. in the photos of the small mural on the wall, rafe realizes that he wanted to be there, present in the photos, and maybe, in a photo with you. you are always smiling and being hugged by someone, or hugging them. you are like that, you are magnetic.
you finish organizing your things and quickly change into a shirt of rafe’s that you hope he doesn’t recognize. it’s big and comfortable, and it makes you feel close to him when he’s far away.
the lamp next to your bed is on, so you turn off the main light in your room and go to your bed, meeting rafe, and he has the smallest smile on his lips. it’s ironic how having sex and being naked doesn’t feel as intimate as simply sleeping together does.
“are your parents home?” he asks.
“no, why?”
“so i could have come through the door, huh.”
“yeah.” you laugh.
a brief moment of silence sits between you two, as you’re staring at each other’s eyes. rafe is mesmerized and terrified at the same time. this - whatever this is - feels so nice and so foreign. he knows damn well he isn’t one to want to just sleep with someone, let alone climb up a wall to just sleep with someone.
rafe cameron is in love, and he is utterly terrified.
“what are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper.
your blinks are getting slower and slower. rafe begins to run his hand through your hair, combing them back, and touching the skin of your neck and shoulders ever so softly.
thinking about how much i want to be with you and how fucking scared i am.
“nothin’. close your eyes.”
you do, not because he told you to, but because you couldn’t keep them open any longer. 
why do you feel the safest with someone as dangerous as rafe cameron? someone who deals with the shadiest people around, that has anger issues and violent behavior.
that tried to drown his own sister.
why none of that matters when you’re in his arms? are you actually insane?
probably.
(...)
as soon as you wake up, you see your bed empty, and rafe’s clothes are no longer on the floor, where he had left them last night. it was to be expected, but you still feel disappointed. he was so sweet last night.
when you look at the clock, it’s already past nine in the morning, which means you’ve slept, surprisingly, eight hours straight. damn, you really were sleep deprived.
the sound of your stomach begging for food makes you get out of bed.
when you leave your bedroom, you hear the sound of the tv on and get scared. slowly, without making any noise, you go down the stairs, trying to find out if your house has been invaded, but it would be strange, as it is daytime. soon you see rafe walking around your house.
he didn’t leave?
it’s like you’re not even there. you get to watch rafe make himself comfortable in your kitchen, looking for stuff to put on the table. there are two delivery bags on the counter, which means he bought food, but the gesture warms your heart, which was merely shattered.
“the cutlery is in the second drawer next to the sink.” you say, startling him a bit.
“jesus. can you, i don’t know, announce you’re in the room? i almost dropped your coffee.”
you laugh.
“sorry, rafey. what are you doing, i thought you had left.”
“uh, i bought breakfast for y- us.” he says. you look inside the bags and you can tell he ordered possibly everything you have eaten from that place. “c’mon, i ordered that vegan shit you like, your coffee and even a pretzel.”
you follow him to the table and you both begin helping yourselves. this isn’t your first time having breakfast with him, but it does feel like it’s a first.
for the first time, you don’t want to leave him.
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libraincarnate · 2 months
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astrology notes: 16 ☁️
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quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a collection of some observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experiences based on astrology. with that being said, i'm still learning along the way & i may come back to edit this post to make corrections. above all this is just for fun. lastly, keep in mind that i’m not reading your birth chart and i know nothing about you. these are just some possibilities that may or may not apply to you. enjoy!
🐚 neptune–venus aspects: you probably get compliments on your appearance a lot. you may have been told that you look a model or a celebrity. there's some sort of star quality to you.
if your neptune is square/opposite your venus, you might struggle to see the same beauty that others see in you. it’s not that you think you’re ugly but you might not think you’re as attractive to the extent that others do, so it makes you wonder what other people are seeing. you might think they’re lying or exaggerating. compliments could also be hard for you to accept. the attention you get can make you a little uncomfortable.
🐚 i used to think that virgo venuses were too nonchalant when it comes to love but this placement will give you that real princess or prince treatment that goes beyond money and materialistic items - that kind of princess/prince treatment may apply more to taurus and sag, but with virgo they give the kind of treatment that considers their partner’s entire well-being and not just their monetary needs and desires. they really care about their partners and want to put their life at ease, they truly care if you ate and aren’t just asking that just to ask. if you haven’t eaten they won’t just say, “oh, damn” or “oh no, eat something :/” but they’re the type to create time to make you something or buy you something to eat and even bring it to you. if they can make your life less stressful in any way, they’ll try to do that. if you’re sick, they’ll take on some of your responsibilities like tidying up your house for you since you aren’t able to do so. there can be times where they won’t even let you lift a finger. the types to say, “i’ll take care of that for you” even if you can do it yourself.
they’re reliable so if they say they’ll do something, you can expect them to do it. but this placement may often find themselves in a position where they’re always being the care taker so they want someone who takes care of them too. these individuals are often anxious and may be quite paranoid when it comes to romantic relationships so they desire someone who will put their mind and life at ease. they can be picky and difficult to impress because of their high standards and because they’re quick to get the ick, but once they love you they’ll really go above and beyond.
🐚 sun opposite rising: your looks may not match your personality and you might even think so yourself. for example, you might look innocent or younger than you are, but really, you’re quite mature and there’s a dark, wild, or unexpected side of you. your looks are deceiving.
🐚 capricorn rising/in the 1st house: you are someone who had ambition and big plans from a young age. money could be a big part of your identity. the ones making “money moves” fr. you could have a lot of work experience. you’ve been working/touching money since your pre-teen or teenage years. 
if your cap rising aspects your mercury then subjects related to money/finance could be something that is always on your mind and it frequently comes up in your conversations as well.
or if it aspects your lilith, then you may be the type to get money by any means necessary, meaning you might be willing to do illegal/immoral things to obtain it. but in your mind, you probably think you have a good reason to do it. something made it worth the risk because capricorns are too rational, prudent, and judicious to just do anything without good reason.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 lilith in pisces: might deal w/ sleep related issues such as insomnia, sleep apnea, sleepwalking, etc. 
🐚 sun conjunct mercury (natal): your father may be someone you hold in high regard and therefore someone you speak highly of most of the time. it’s possible that you tend to reflect on the memories you share with him, your similarities/differences, and the influence he has had in your life.
🐚 jupiter in the 7th house: you bring abundance into the relationships you have. this can be a friendship, business partnership, romantic relationship, etc. your loved ones are lucky to have you in their life. you’re generous and you’re the type to spoil & splurge on those closest to you. you bring encouragement and goodness into the lives of others, even if you haven’t known them for long. you’re a blessing. you could have qualities that make you the perfect wife/husband & you could also be blessed with your perfect spouse in return. unless you’re a jerk, you may be someone that people regret losing, especially your ex.
🐚 aquarius: reminds me of The Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) in a way, the ones to step up and help a stranger. they have this innate desire to help people, to help the world, even if it’s done in a small way or even if nobody else sees it.
isn’t it ironic how the sign that’s about humanity and togetherness is the one that feels like an outcast or has been ostracized from some group in some way? whether it be by their family (aquarius in the 4th house), friends (11th house), classmates (3rd house), or co-workers (6th house).
as an air sign, they can talk for hours. but out of the 3 air signs, aquarius is the most socially selective. this can be one of the reasons why they’re often described as cold and distant.
they may not be all sunshine & rainbows but they’re actually kind-hearted individuals. it’s just that they may not always express it in the most warm, affectionate, lovey-dovey way. i wouldn’t describe them as the most emotional individuals but they are still empathetic and they dislike inhumane behavior.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 sag experiences life to fullest by going everywhere, seeing everything, learning about it all in the process and then reflecting on what they’ve seen & learned.
taurus experiences life to the fullest by really being present in their physical body. they’ll take in the different sounds of a song and dance to the beat, they'll distinguish the different notes or aromas of a particular smell and then buy similar scents to fill their home with it or to wear as perfume/cologne. when eating, they'll really taste food and explore the different flavors/ingredients, then maybe they’ll try to cook it for themselves. they’re in tune with their senses and therefore the world around them. it’s such a beautiful way to experience life, but this can also mean that they are quite sensitive to their environments. with that being said they may feel a strong connection to nature/the earth.
🐚 cancer in the 10th house: may be perceived as compassionate & loyal, shy, or a sweetheart by the general public. could be sensitive about their reputation and any criticism they receive. they spend time nurturing their career, and their career may even relate to nurturing children, caretaking, or healing. they rely on their intuition or heart to carve out their path and navigate their career. they’re good listeners and as a cardinal sign they also possess that leadership quality. the types to provide their close friends and family with opportunities to help them reach their own success. a desire to take care of their family and their needs once they make it. people within the same industry as them may see them as a motherly mentor.
🐚 scorpio in the 2nd house: they can have deep and/or raspy voices. it’s music to my ears, but especially if it’s a woman with this placement. that’s because women typically have higher pitched voices, and so naturally, these women stand out when they speak. if they can sing well, they can probably reach deeper notes than most women typically can. but in the same breath, it may be hard for them to reach high notes. this applies to both the natal chart & the mercury persona chart.
🐚 saturn rules the teeth and so people with saturn in retrograde in the 1st house, or saturn opposite/square pluto, lilith, mars or the ascendant may have a chipped tooth due to a certain event such as getting hit in the mouth or biting on something hard. or they may have a gap between their front teeth, the type you inherit genetically or from your parents. this doesn’t mean they have ugly teeth or an ugly smile. however, whether they feel like they have an ugly smile or not, they may have a tendency to smile without showing their teeth or they cover their mouth when smiling/laughing in attempt to hide their teeth. either way, there’s a sense of self-consciousness here.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 4th house synastry: potential for a strong/solid foundation, they're your comfort place, having a strong desire to live together, moving in together can make the relationship feel more satisfying, fulfilling, or complete. you miss them when they’re not home/around, hate having to say goodbye, long distance could make you both feel miserable or like something is missing. possible separation anxiety. emotional vulnerability, healing, and attachment. taking care of each other. wanting to start a family. this house also creates an environment for a deep connection just like the other houses ruled by water signs.
🐚 if i could communicate with animals i would tell pets to choose owners who have scorpio in the 6th house. these people will loveee their pets to death. their pets would probably be obsessed with them (it would be mutual though) because of the amount of love and attention they would receive from their owners. there’s definitely a strong emotional attachment. but in general, having a water sign in the 6th house indicates a strong emotional connection or bond with pets/animals.
air signs in the 6th house would talk to their pets a lot and they’d be besties lol, they obviously don't speak the same language but they'd understand each other nonetheless. possible animal whisperers here.
earth signs in the 6th house would give their pets the best of the best but i also think this dynamic would bring a mutually grounding effect that could be therapeutic, bringing a sense of calm and peace to the pet and the owner’s life.
fire signs in the 6th house would spoil their pets and they’d have a lot fun doing things together like taking them outdoors and going on adventures. 
🐚 1st house ruler in the 2nd house: the themes of the 1st house includes one’s appearance and the themes of the 2nd house includes one’s physical body and beauty, being that is ruled by venus. while this still applies to libra because it is also ruled by venus and it has the reputation of being beautiful and having physical symmetry, this doesn’t apply to the 7th house, which libra rules, because that house is more related to romance and relationships.
so, since the physical body is part of one’s appearance, if your 1st house is ruled by the 2nd house, not only can this show another layer of your appearance but it can also mean you have a very attractive appearance and body. bonus points if taurus is in the 2nd house since that is the house it rules and it is also ruled by venus.
with that being said, even if you don’t have a libra rising or libra in the 1st house, if it’s in your 2nd house and it rules your first house you may have libra physical traits like freckles or dimples. if aries or leo is in your 2nd house then you may have a lot of hair, red hair (naturally or dyed), or a pronounced face/head. 
the planets in your 2nd house may also have an impact, so if you have mercury there your body may be quite slim. having venus in the 2nd house is also a bonus because again, beauty. jupiter too since it represents blessings so you may be blessed with great looks and this may indicate a thicker or curvier body type as well. i’d also add asteroid aphrodite (1388) as well, being that it represents attraction, & beauty, but planets will have a greater influence. 
lastly, people may like the way you dress and think you have a good sense of style.
^ even if the house that rules your 1st house doesn’t relate to one’s appearance or body, it can still have an influence on your presence. for example, if your 8th house rules your 1st house you probably have sex appeal without even trying to be sexy, people may think you’re secretive, and you might look and feel best when you’re wearing dark colored clothing. but remember, signs matter and can reinforce this or bring out the opposite.
🐚 asteroid juno (3) at a gemini degree (3°, 15°, 27°): can indicate a marriage filled with laughter, lots of conversation, and possibly good communication between you & your spouse, or these are things you desire or must have in a committed romantic partnership.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 pluto represents things that are hidden. those with pluto in the 1st house may hide or gatekeep their personality or their true self, so many people don’t know the real them. they’re naturally mysterious with deep layers. 
in the 6th house they may hide any health issues they have or how hard their life may be on a daily basis, the types to feel like they’re on the verge of death but no one would know. 
in the 3rd house they may not be quick to reveal their thoughts or what’s on their mind, they try to think before they speak. reminds me of the person who chooses to sit in the back of the class and doesn’t participate much, but they have profound ideas and also a dark mind. their siblings may also feel like they don’t know them very well even if they grew up together and were raised in the same home. furthermore, your sibling’s friends may be surprised to learn that they have a sister/brother (the person with pluto in the 3rd house), because they’ve never seen or heard of them.
🐚 lilith represents the things we reject. in the 1st house, lilith may reject parts of themselves because they find those parts difficult to accept, they might create a new version of themselves but it’s not really authentic since they’re rejecting their true self. they may reject their personal boundaries and can potentially be a push over or they care too much about what others think. this may result in a lack of self-esteem and confidence. they could reject their appearance and do things to constantly change how they look whether that be dyeing their hair, dressing up in ways that are drastically different, or possibly getting cosmetic surgery.
in the 10th house, lilith may reject commands from their superiors, their boss/supervisor may tell them to do something a certain way but they do it their own way, may have a tendency of disobeying their father or they were rejected by their father. they may reject leadership roles and prefer to work alone. they don’t take the “traditional” path to success and may choose a career that their father is against. they could also reject fame or attention from the general public even though that’s something they naturally attract. 
in the 12th house they may reject their dreams, meaning that they think nothing of them, they’re “just dreams” and have no deeper meaning. they might reject the darker parts of themselves and prefer to focus on the parts that aren’t so dark and heavy. because of this there could be painful experiences that they haven’t healed from because they refuse to pay any attention to them. if they are spiritual, then they may have surface level knowledge and aren’t interested in delving into deeper waters. or they could disregard or hate the reality of life on this planet and so they have a tendency of fantasizing about death, the end of the world, or a different/better world. also, they may not be the most generous or charitable people.
🐚 empty houses: some people might think that the empty houses in their chart are insignificant but they still have relevance in your life because a there’s still a sign that falls into that house and that empty house also has a house ruler. for example, if you have an empty 3rd house with leo or sag there, you may still be one of the popular kids in school even if you have no planets in that house.
and let’s say your 3rd house is ruled by the 7th house (meaning your sun or jupiter is in the 7th house), your popularity may stem from your relationships. you may be known because you’ve dated the popular boy/girl at school or you both are popular making you the popular couple at school. perhaps you’ve had several relationships throughout your school years and maybe you’re that person who is always in a relationship which could create some gossip whether it be for good or bad. or maybe you have a lot of people pursuing you and wanting to date you, perhaps you have multiple people wanting to take you to prom or you might be a sophomore and yet you end up going to prom with a senior.
so, empty houses will still play a role in your life, but it will most likely be less active or less prominent compared to the houses that do have planets.
🐚 the 5th house: this is definitely one of my favorite houses. people with multiple placements in the 5th house typically have so much personality. they’re so fun, a joy to be around, truly a burst of sunshine with vibrant energy and they’re also really talented. definitely the life of the party, bringing everyone together with excitement and entertainment. the type to start dancing with or talking to a stranger or that person standing in the corner, making them feel both welcomed and included. they also have this youthful quality to them, which may be one of the reasons why children love them or get along with them well.
if you read this until the end i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.
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