#Anyone else here who doesn't look like they should be here?
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Yes. You are racist. (Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one)
So approximately half a year since the premier of the Disney+ Percy Jackson show, and almost two years since the announcement of the Trio's casting, I would like to take this moment to look back at the insane, racist and anti-black backlash that was launched at Leah Sava Jeffries and a few other cast members from the PJO fandom.
I'm not concerned with the trolls who are openly racist, who resorted to racist slurs and outright threats, everyone agrees that they "took it too far". I want to talk about the rest of you, the "I'm not racist, but.." people, the "What's wrong with wanting book accuracy?" people. Just to let you know, for the unasked question... yes, yes you are.
I've noticed the Percy Jackson fandom has been lording some weird superiority complex over a certain *unnamed* fandom that has fallen out of grace due to their recently outed bigot of an author. But honestly, y'all are not much different. The amount of vitriol and anti-blackness I have seen from this fandom (beyond just bullying a 12 year old girl), y'all don't have a leg to stand on.
Below is a breakdown of the most common arguments I have seen used to justify y'alls absolutely insane bigotry. I am going to explain why none of these justify the amount of anger and vitriol y'all have sent towards Leah, Rick or any of the cast.
I am not here to argue, and this is not a democracy. I am giving you a chance for some self-reflection and to understand that this pattern of violence directed towards POC actors (mostly black women) has never been justified in the name of "book accuracy"/"comic book accuracy"/"ending forced diversity" or whatever other excuses y'all try to make up.
If you still try to justify or argue further for any of these points, I will just block you. I am not coddling you through your racism. If anyone has seen any other dumb arguments floating around that I might've missed, feel free to sound off in the comments.
She's not book accurate:
Neither is Percy, Luke, Grover, Dionysus, Poseidon, and just about every other named character.
Rick already made it clear that physical features were not the priority with casting, rather it was actors that embodied the role. So why are the biggest complaints about Annabeth and Zeus? 🤔
What? You're gonna say everyone else got backlash too? I see you trying to obscure the main issue by playing dumb 😉
See my friend, yes, there were one or two comments about how Percy's hair should be black or how Luke is supposed to be blonde, but as soon as Leah was cast, none of those actors got any significant backlash. In fact, Walker and Charlie literally have an army of fan girls at their beck and call, calling them the perfect Percy and Luke, despite neither being "Book accurate". But then again, have we not observed the pattern of White boy of the month vs WOC to hate for the year? (Yes, I know Charlie isn't white. Further adds to the irony, doesn't it).
Why include character descriptions if you won't stay true to them, you cry? Well, my dear sweet moron, see, books and TV are two different mediums. Because in literature, you can't *Literally* SEE the characters, the author has to add descriptions to paint a picture in your mind, in TV... that's not an issue. So unless the character's appearance is necessary to the plot (like Luke's scar, or Nico being Italian) the show runners can actually focus on more important things.. Like ACTING and PERSONALITY.
2. It's just not how I imagined her:
News flash, babe! ANNABETH ISN'T REAL. None of these character are. They are concepts that originated from the brain of Mr. Rick Riordan. It doesn't matter how YOU imagined her. There are millions of people who read these books that imagined her several different ways. When the creator of the character watched Leah's audition and said, 'Yes! She embodies the character I created!", your imagined version of Annabeth ceased to matter. And guess what? The books still exist... they have not been burned. Your version of Annabeth has not disappeared. Go read the books.
3. Zeus can't be black/Gods have to be Greek/*Insert Character* can't be black:
Y'all did not read the books, I swear. You have to be fake fans looking to troll atp.
The gods move based off the center of western civilization. They change their forms/environment to reflect the culture they are occupying (they did it with Rome, now they're doing it with America). The gods change forms all the time. How we see them is not their true form as a mortal would disintegrate if they were to see their true form.
America is a cultural melting pot (specifically NY where Mount Olympus is now based). If the god's choose forms that reflect the current society they inhabit, they could literally be any race (keep in mind NYC is only 33% white).
All of this is literally SPELLED OUT in the Lightning Thief.
Furthermore, if you're going to push the ethnically Greek thing... Poseidon is British with a British accent and Hermes is Latino. The only ethnically Greek actor is Dionysus (who still doesn't look book accurate). Y'all are sounding like some white supremacists because do you forget that race is a social construct?
Before the advent of the transatlantic slave trade, I can promise you that the Greeks and the Anglo-Saxons did NOT view themselves as the same people. Why are y'all not taking issue with Poseidon's actor then?
Also, Percy Jackson has canonically had a slew of explicitly black demigods since the second book (including Harriet Tubman, which I have mixed feelings about 😭), so I genuinely have no idea where some of y'all are going with this point.
4. She was our smart blonde representation:
Don't pmo. I swear to God!
White, blonde women have NEVER been excluded from Hollywood. Representation is not something you lacked. The dumb blonde stereotype was a simple branch off of a larger misogynistic "dumb woman" stereotype. It has not truly been relevant since the mid 2000s outside of childish jokes.
This iteration of Percy Jackson will probably not go beyond the first 5 books, based off pacing and the age of the actors. So here's a fun game: 5 bucks to the first person who can find me a quote in the first 5 Percy Jackson books, where Annabeth laments her insecurities about being blonde (hint: there aren't any).
Also, her blonde hair does not hold her back at Camp because she is head of the Athena Cabin who are highly respected (and guess what?), ARE ALL BLONDE!
Her insecurities about her hair color are two or three lines at most in the later books, not this fundamental, core part of her character y'all all of a sudden wanna pretend it was. And guess what, as a non-blonde black girl, I was able to read those scenes of Annabeth feeling undervalued because of her looks and relate to her even if she didn't look like me at the time.
Why all of a sudden can y'all not do that with a black Annabeth? By every metric black girls are undervalued for their intelligence in academia more than white girls are, regardless of hair color. So your little representation of a woman undervalued by her looks would still hold. Do y'all dehumanize black women so much, that you are incapable of empathizing with show!Annabeth's plight in the way I could with Book!Annabeth simply because she doesn't look exactly like you?
Your issue isn't that she isn't blonde, it's that she is NOT WHITE.
Furthermore, Becky Riordan had tweeted previously (before the show was even cast) that Annabeth never needed to be blonde (probably recalling the BS y'all put Alexandra Daddario through), so even if they cast a white Annabeth, the blonde hair was never a guarantee. the author and producers all agree that it was not a significant part of her character. It's been a non-issue since day one.
Also, stop acting like smart blondes are rare in media... If you don't go watch some Legally blonde, Iron Man (Pepper Potts), Zack and Cody (Maddie), Liv and Maddie, FMAB (Winry), Captain Marvel, She-Ra, Buffy, etc. etc., and go sit down somewhere 🙄🙄🙄
5. It's not about race, but...:
Yes it is. It was always bout race. No other actors got as much hate as Leah. Her grandmother and other family members on IG had to mute their comments because they were getting so many threats.
Alexandra Daddario had to come to her defense on Twitter. Rick had to put out an official statement on his website. This girl has endured years of psychological torment for simply having the best audition. No one else is book accurate, no one else is ethnically Greek (except Jason Mantzoukas). Walker literally has British and German ancestry.
Why was she being called racial slurs on reddit and in youtube comments?
I know what you're gonna say, "I actually had problems with the entire cast", "I actually had a bigger issue with Walker's hair color", blah blah blah. Then why aren't you in Walker's comment sections? Why are you only making your displeasure known on posts defending/advocating for Leah? Why is she always your first example of 'wrong casting"?
Well, she "looks the most different"... Look up the term "scapegoating".
"Oh, I don't agree with the harassment. I just don't like the casting." Guess what? She's already been cast. They are not going to uncast her. What do you get out of still complaining about it.
All the vitriol you're stirring about her when you complain about her on Social media, it is directing people to send her hate, even if you're not writing it directly. It's is not enough to "not agree" with the racism, it is your duty to actively prevent it. And btw, these are young gen z actors, they are active on social media. They see the edits of themselves (even comment on it) and they most likely see these little "harmless" complaints you're posting. Are your upset feelings really worth contributing to the racist dogpile on this poor girl?
6. Why couldn't they atleast give her blonde braids?:
Why should they? Y'all wanted blonde because of the "dumb blonde" trope... that doesn't apply to POC.
A blonde black girl is gonna be viewed the same as a non-blonde black girl (or at worst, someone might decide she's "ratchet" or some shit for wearing colored hair). What difference would it make?
Why shouldn't Walker dye his hair, then?
7. Annabeth has Gray eyes:
Less than 3% of the global population has "gray eyes". Even if they cast a white actor, they would've needed contacts. Her being black is not the reason Annabeth's eyes aren't gray. Simply put, it is a plot element they removed, like the whole "names have power" element, or Ares having flames for eyes, or Dionysus using his powers to grow strawberries at Camp.
That's how adaptations work. Unnecessary plot elements are cut to save time and budget. This has nothing to do with her casting. They probably also didn't want to make child actors wear contacts (not a new practice).
8. Even if Rick chose her, he was wrong/Disney is forcing him to be okay with it:
Where do I start? Rick created the character. He can't be wrong. Do y'all have no self-awareness? Death of the author has no place here, because y'all are hung up on an aspect of the character that is not relevant to her arc or development.
Y'all's justification for wanting a "book accurate" Annabeth is that she was such an inspirational and important character growing up, and yet your behavior is so in conflict with the character you claim means so much to you. You're narrow minded, dismissive of bigotry and injustice, and disrespectful to the wishes of the creator of your favorite character; everything that Annabeth would never be. Y'all were never genuine fans of the books. You're bigots that needed an outlet for your rage.
Keep in mind, Rick has said countless times that PercaBeth directly mirrors his relationship with his wife. Y'all think he would have allowed them to cast someone who doesn't live up to the woman who has been by his side for decades? The mother of his children?
Regarding Disney forcing him, show me one piece of direct evidence that proves Disney in anyway pressured Rick to cast her. Cuz if you can't, that's baseless speculation. And if you have to resort to baseless speculation, maybe try to examine why it's so important to you to hold on to this belief.
9. So, I'm racist because I hate "race swapping"?:
To start, there is a difference between "race swapping" and "color blind casting". Often times, when y'all complain about the former, you're actually mad about the latter.
It would be "race swapping" if Rick and the team decided ahead of time that they wanted a black Annabeth and ONLY allowed black actors to audition. But the actual reality was that they accepted auditions from everyone (there were white actors and non-black poc that also auditioned for the role) and chose the best person who embodied the role. They didn't "make Annabeth black" and they didn't "make Zeus black", they cast black actors for those roles.
Y'all think you're being slick with your wording. Dismissing that is implying that they did not earn their roles fair and square. Which is racist. It's the equivalent of going up to a black college student and telling them they only got in because of affirmative action. You're dismissing the achievements of a person solely because of their racial background.
For all you people complaining about "unfairness" and "forced diversity", I would think hiring based on merit would appeal to you 🤔
71% of theatrical Hollywood leads were white in 2024 in comparison to 29% POC and you still think "black washing" is a thing? You still get this angry over a black person fairly earning a role because you think in a time where Hollywood only knows to do remakes and adaptations, that the majority of lead roles still *have* to be reserved for white actors?
Once again, white people have never been excluded from Hollywood for being white. Representation has never been something you lacked nor is it something you can lose. Your anger comes from seeing a black face where you think they don't belong. Because you feel you are owed a disproportion of representation in Hollywood.
10. Woke agenda/DEI/Forced Diversity:
If you are unironically using any of these terms in a negative light, it's already too late for me to reason with you. Look up the term "dog whistle". If you are sharing the same terminology with Elon Musk and his fanboys, maybe reevaluate some things.
POC are objectively underrepresented and have been historically excluded through actual laws and policies in Hollywood. There is no such thing as "forced diversity", you have bought in to a right wing conspiracy theory.
"Woke" is a term that was intentionally appropriated from the black community. It originally meant being aware of injustice and systematic threats to the community and is now being weaponized by bigots. Good job.
Diversity and inclusion is a good thing.
11. But POC deserve to have their own stories told:
We do. And we have been fighting for it for over a century now, and we've made great strides, no thanks to y'all.
No thanks to y'all gaslighting us about how little representation we get or that representation matters at all. No thanks to y'all pushing the idea that POC can't sell globally and obscuring POC actors in international promos. No thanks to y'all continuing to whitewash even to this day (Bullet train, the beguiled, gods of Egypt, atla, every portrayal of Jesus ever, etc.). No thanks to y'all calling every piece of media that has more than one black lead and more than one queer couple "woke". No thanks to y'all throwing a fit every time a black person in a fantasy setting isn't a slave.
Fact of the matter is, y'all never cared about POC "getting their own stories", you're only parroting our own words back to us now as a politically correct way of saying, "leave white roles alone" lmao
Well fun fact, actors of color getting opportunities to play lead roles and allowing poc to "tell their own stories" are not mutually exclusive. If y'all cared that much, instead of bullying a 12 year old actress, you could actually support up and coming independent POC writers, directors, and studios 😱
12. Studios need to stop "setting up" actors of color:
Do me a favor and google the term DARVO.
Your racism is not the fault of the studios for giving a POC actor a role that they earned. It is not up to the rest of society to tiptoe around racists to avoid their vitriol. It is our responsibility to hold them accountable and protect minorities from unwarranted hate. At most, you can say it's the responsibility of the studios to provide adequate support to POC actors who face this backlash.
At the end of the day, Hollywood only allows very few spots for POC actors (especially WOC), while simultaneously pushing a new white boy every month to put in everything. Putting minorities in these roles that are usually closed to them, usually opens the door to more actors of color than before.
Brandy being cast as Cinderella did a lot to push her into the mainstream (yes, she was already extremely famous in the black community atp), Halle Berry being the first, black, bond girl literally shot her to icon status, and even going as far back to what Anna Mae Wong did for Asian American actresses with her "femme fatale" roles.
At the end of the day, even with the backlash, *some* rep does more good for POC actors than *no* rep. The solution to racist backlash isn't to take away those opportunities, but rather to not be racist??? 🙄
Also, for everyone that claims that "POC race-swapping" is just as bad as "white-washing", despite white washing having a longer history and objectively causing more harm, note how the backlash to white washing never lasts as long as the harassment that POC get.
Like, no one brings up Scarlett Johansson's ghost in the shell role anymore, but you can best believe Candace Patton is still fending off racist trolls. As much as people hated the atla movie, people moved on quick from Nicola Peltz playing Katara since she was just a kid that accepted the role (re: daddy bought her the role), but y'all would not have any of that consideration for Leah Sava Jeffries.
But I digress...
13. What if we made Tiana white? Wakanda white? Hazel white...:
Ah, my favorite inane point. I was so excited to get here :)
See, I could start out by pointing out how "White washing" and casting a POC actor as a traditionally white character are not equivalent.
I could point out the history of hollywood ACTIVELY excluding POC actors and POC stories. I could point out how grossly over represented white people are in hollywood. I could point out that POC characters are so few in comparison that whitewashing them causes actual harm, where white people have never lacked rep.
I could point out how, because poc characters and stories are so often tokenized that their racial/cultural background is often directly tied to their character's identity, in opposition to a lot of white characters, since hollywood treats white as the "Default".
See, I could make all those points, but the thing is, the people who make this argument already know all that. They are trying to waste time by drawing me into a pointless circular argument that will sum up to "fair is fair", while ignoring all the context and nuance I previously provided.
So you know what? Forget it. Let me play your game.
I am actually fine with a white Tiana. Would it make sense, for her and her family to experience Jim Crow era racism, in the south while white? No. But we can look past it. Disney was never known for historical accuracy anyway 🤷🏿♀️
However, in exchange, the live action frozen will have a black Elsa and Anna, live action Rapunzel will be black, live action Merida will be black, we're re-filming Cinderella and Beauty and the beast to cast a black belle and Cindy, snow white will need to be recast as black, and we also get aurora whenever the live action sleeping beauty is announced. But then y'all can keep Tiana, deal?
You want a white T'Challa? Fine! (I'm partial to Ryan gosling), in the meantime, we'll be recasting Iron man, Captain America (Steve version), Bruce banner, Thor, Loki, hawk eye, black widow, ant man, captain marvel, Bucky, Peter Parker etc. All the avengers and their side characters, then y'all can have Sam Wilson, war machine and the whole of Wakanda (will it make sense that a sole, hidden, African nation is randomly made up of white people? Who cares? We get the avengers!).
You want white Hazel? You got her! I hope you have no problem with us taking Percy, Nico, Will, Poseidon, Jason, calypso, Rachel, Tyson, Silena, the stoll brothers, Sally Jackson, Hades, Hepheastus, ares, etc. But y'all can have Hazel and Beckendorf.
If we're gonna do this, let's commit all the way. Fair is fair, after all.
14. Leah isn't as "pretty" as Book Annabeth/Movie Annabeth:
I wish I could say this wasn't a genuine point I had read, but when all else fails, they will always go for a woman's appearance.
Now first of all, as a rule, I will never hold black women to white beauty standards. Our hair will never be long and silky enough, our nose will never be narrow enough, our skin will never be fair enough and our eyes will never be light enough (Might I recommend Toni Morrison, when you get the chance?). But Leah is unfairly gorgeous idc what any of you say, and you're not gonna have me use my defense of Leah as an opportunity to bash Alexandra either because she is also beautiful. These two queens slayed to the best of their abilities within this toxic ass fandom.
I find it funny, however, that so many of you harped on the "blonde" issue because you thought it was important that Annabeth be seen beyond just her looks, but quickly devolve to bashing an actress's looks when it comes to why she's not right for this role 🤔
I would also like to sincerely apologize that the 13 year old girl they cast in the show, wasn't as sexually attractive to you as the 24 year old woman they cast in the movie and sexualized through like 25% of her screen time (I'm actually not sorry. You're very weird if this is an actual point for you).
15. I don't agree with sending hate to the actor, but she's just not right for the role:
Once again, what are you doing by complaining about her casting on no other basis than her race?
The creator of the character said she embodied the role. She has already been cast, and Disney would be in a legal/production hell to recast her atp. Just because you're not directly leaving comments on her social media doesn't mean you're not part of the hate mob.
No matter how you look at it, your issues with her casting come from a very entitled and narrow-minded place. When you join in on these dialogues you are bolstering a sentiment that pushes more people to harass this teenage girl. When you leave these "harmless" complaints, on show content, fan posts or posts defending her, she's liable to read them because the cast regularly interact with fans online.
What do you have to say that is so important that it trumps protecting a young girl from the long-staying trauma of racism, of being told she doesn't deserve something she worked for because of how she was born?
16. I can't even criticize the show without being called racist:
Get. Over. Yourself.
Y'all are not the victim. Have fans of the show gotten protective of Leah and the young cast? Yes.
With good reason. This fandom is unbearably toxic.
Racism outweighs your need for a "perfect adaptation", sorry.
If you explain yourself properly and keep your critiques fair (like, even I don't think this was a perfect season, and will be sharing my thoughts shortly), no one is gonna call you racist.
You're preempting with that because in all honesty, you're probably planning to use your "critiques" of the show to pivot to one of the many points that I just outlined, and you want to pre-empt the criticism.
If a black Annabeth is the end all be all for you, just don't watch the show, no one's holding a gun to your head. Geez.
17. I'm Black/POC and I don't agree...:
Hey, Candace Owens... No one gives a shit.
First of all, for all the "I'm POC and I don't agree" people, you don't speak for us. Anti-blackness is rampant in just about every culture globally. You being not-white doesn't somehow make you less prone to hating black people.
But for the "I'm black and I don't agree" leftovers (assuming you're not just a 👩🏼💻 behind a keyboard). Black people are not a monolith. You're not obligated to think a certain way because you're black.
But consider why you're putting yourself up as a barrier to protect this hate mob. It's one thing to just state why you don't like Leah's casting, but to start off your spiel with "I'm actually black" as a way to weaponize the very identity politics you're critiquing... very strange. Not to mention, what are you defending?
The black community is coming together to defend one of our own, a kid who has been receiving death threats since she was 12, and this is when you feel the need to back the opposition?
I mean whatever... sometimes the house slaves would snitch to the master. There will always be some of y'all in the woodwork. It is what it is.
But when the exact ideology you defend is turned against you, when a Baltimore elected official is being accused of getting his job through "DEI", when conservatives are claiming that they wouldn't "trust a black pilot", don't decide that's where you'll finally draw your line in the sand.
All that being said, This is my Annabeth:
May every tongue that rose against Leah Sava Jeffries Shrivel and die in 2025 🙏🏿 My girl will keep winning ❤️
(video by @/waleahhasmyheart on TikTok)
#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo#percabeth#disney+#pjverse#pjo tv show#percy jackson fandom#rick riordan#riordanverse#leah sava jeffries#leah jeffries#walker scobell#camp half blood#pjo series#disney percy jackson#annabeth chase
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📓 Rukiyui fanfic 📓
Pairing: Ruki 📓 and Yui🌸
Author: Admin Afra
Genre: Romance, Dramatic
TW: Tragedy ending, mentally issues
Admin's Note: Returning to writing after several months is like a dream for me. This is my first fanfic after several months. I'm so glad to be back and I hope you like it.
With Her Memories
The sunrise seemed brighter than ever. A gentle breeze was blowing and gently shaking the curtain of the room. The sound of soft laughter could be heard in the room, which was like the joy of a happy couple.
The breeze became stronger and was shaking the blonde girl's golden hair. Her face looked like a goddess with the sunlight shining through the window of the room, and her laugh was beautiful and full of life like spring flowers. She was in the arms of the man she loved more than anyone else and was smiling gently at him while holding his hand.
Yui: Wow.... my god, that was really beautiful. This was the best story I have ever read.
Ruki: It wasn't bad. It was not bad as a romance book. But there are many better books that have a higher story potential. I think I should read some better books for you to get acquainted with the real spirit and violence of the world.
Yui: .... Ummmmmm.... Ruki, this is too much. This is just a book. I think you took it very seriously.
Ruki: True, but I prefer to read better and more useful books than ordinary and weak romance stories.
Hearing Ruki's words, Yui puffed her cheeks and turned her head away from Ruki as a sign of displeasure.
Yui: Do you know what? You are not romantic at all. I thought that after reading this book, you will also be motivated to kiss me?
Ruki: What do you mean?
Yui: It doesn't matter. You can't be romantic.
Ruki smirked and put the book away. He gently placed Yui, who was still in his arms, on the bed and brought his head close to her. So close that their lips were only a few millimeters apart.
Ruki: Do you want to see a romantic man? I will be the most romantic man in the world for you, Yui.
Ruki placed his lips on Yui's soft lips and kissed her gently.
*smooch* *smooch*
Ruki: ... mmm... nn... Yui, your existence is as important to me as the whole world. I will give you whatever you want.
Yui: Ruki, we are not going to be separated again. Right?
Ruki: Never. If the world comes to an end, if my heart is separated from my body, if I have to go to hell or if I have to die, I will not let anyone take you away from me. You are mine forever, Yui.
Yui smiled softly and wrapped her arms around Ruki's neck and snuggled into his arms. She was holding Ruki tightly and smiling. It was the best feeling in the world. The feeling that Ruki once lost because of the vampire king and had to pay a heavy price to get it back. But it doesn't matter at all. He is now with his beloved Yui and that is all that matters to him.
Ruki: ... Yui always stay in my arms. Always give me this warmth and love. Please never leave me alone again.
Yui: Ruki by my side. I promise to be by your side forever.
Ruki was still hugging Yui. He did not want to separate this love and warmth from himself. It was the best feeling in the world. He never wanted to lose this feeling. Yui was the girl who lit up his dark heart. He never wants to lose this light and warmth.
After a few short minutes of them being in each other's arms, Ruki pushed Yui onto the bed and looked into her bright eyes and smirked.
Ruki: Well Yui... let's continue.
He pressed his lips to Yui's soft lips again and continued to kiss her. A deep and long kiss that left a trail of love saliva.
Ruki: You don't have to be jealous of fictional characters. I will be the most romantic man in the world for you.
Yui: Hahaha... Ruki, you are so cute when you are jealous.
Ruki: Huh? Don't you think you are the jealous one here? Hahaha, I won't let you be jealous, my angel.
Yui: Ruki... I love you.
Ruki: Me too Yui. I love you. As much as the world and even more than that. I love you more than anyone, my sweet angel.
Ruki continued to kiss Yui. The sound of their sweet laughter could be heard and the golden color of the evening made it more dreamy. It was all Ruki's world. A world that he never wanted to lose.
*TIMESKIP *
A beautiful morning started with a bright sunrise. The sunlight on the bright face of the blonde girl looked like a dream and it was like an angel on earth. The goddess who was sleeping peacefully in the heart of her lover.
Ruki slowly opened his eyes as the sunlight hit his eyes. He saw Yui sleeping like an angel in his arms. It was the most beautiful sight in the world and Ruki didn't want to spoil it.
He gently pushed Yui's hair away from her eyes with his finger and kissed her forehead. He caressed her cheek with his finger and called her name softly.
Ruki: Yui... my beautiful angel please wake up.
Hearing Ruki's voice, Yui slowly opened her eyes.
Yui: Mmm... Good morning Ruki.
Ruki: Good morning Yui. Come one, let me help you to put on your clothes.
Yui tried to get up but the laziness of sleep stopped her. Until Ruki heard Yui's stomach rumbling.
Ruki: Haha... Yui, are you hungry?
Yui: Hmmm... Ruki, can we have breakfast first and after that we get ready. I'm still tired.
Ruki smiled softly and kissed Yui's forehead again and caressed her.
Ruki: Of course we can. You rest here while I go to the kitchen and make you a great breakfast. You just wait for me.
Ruki kissed Yui one last time and left the room. He was going to the kitchen to make breakfast for his dear Yui. The thought that Yui was still alive and breathing kept him alive and he didn't care at all if Yui lost the ability to walk.
He was cooking with a smile and thinking about Yui. Yui's thoughts kept him calm. It kept him alive and happy.
Ruki was still cooking. He prepared a large dish full of delicious ingredients and proudly looked at his work of art until Kou entered the kitchen. Kou was very surprised to see Ruki in the kitchen. Ruki rarely came out of his room. Recently, he only stayed in his room and did not want to see his brothers.
Kou: Uh.... Ruki-kun. You finally decided to come out of your room. Hahahahaha, I haven't seen you in a long time, it seems like today is the last day of the world.
Ruki: Ahhhhh... that joke wasn't funny.
Kou: Come on, Ruki, do you know how long it is.... Oh, look at this big and delicious dish. Ruki did you make this?
Ruki: Of course. Ehat do you think?
Kou: Umm....it looks really delicious ok so let me try it. I'm very hungry.
Ruki: Don't even think about it, it's not for you.
Kou: Ohhhh.... Ruki, don't be stingy. You can't eat this alone.
Ruki: This is for Yui, not me. She is very weak. I have to give her good food to regain her health. Do you understand?
Kou: ....??? Yui...???
Ruki: Of course. Well, I have to go now. Yui is waiting for me.
Kou: Ruki.... listen.... Yuma and Azusa and I miss you two so much. It is better to come out of your room. We would like to see you two more.
Ruki: Sure... I miss you too, but Yui is more important now. You forgot? She can't walk. I will take care of her until she recovers. Now I have to go back to her faster.
After Ruki finished his sentence, he picked up a silver tray full of delicious food and went to his room.
*knock knock*
Ruki entered the room and saw that Yui was still sleeping. He turned to Yui and placed the food tray on the table. He kissed Yui's forehead to wake her up.
Ruki: Yui, wake up, I made you a delicious breakfast.
Ruki was gently smelling Yui's hair and whispering to wake her up and Yui was giggling. Yui's eyes were still closed but she was laughing. Ruki stroked her again to wake her up.
Yui: Ruki... come lie down next to me. Let's sleep together again. After we wake up, we eat breakfast.
Ruki smiled softly and lay down next to Yui. He held her in his arms and buried his head in her soft hair. He smelled her smell and fell into a dream paradise. This heat and this smell was the best feeling in the world.
Meanwhile, the Mukami brothers in the living room:
Yuma: So it happened again?
Kou: I was very happy after seeing Ruki come out of his room. But it seems that it is not yet time to be happy. And I don't think there will ever be a time to be happy.
Azusa: You mean... we... lost our... brother?
Yuma: Who cares? As long as Ruki is fine and smiling, let him stay like that. Even if he stays next to a body that is not breathing. This at least keeps him alive and that's enough.
The room was getting hotter and hotter. It was almost noon and Yui was still sleeping. She had been sleeping in her Ruki's arms for years. Her eyes were opened only for Ruki and her smile was visible only for Ruki. Maybe she would never breathe again, but Ruki could feel her breath and warmth and hear her smile, and that was enough for him.
Yui was sleeping in Ruki's arms. Ruki was embracing his life. They were sleeping next to each other and no one knew when they would wake up.
#diabolik lovers#dialovers#yui komori#komori yui#ruki mukami#mukami ruki#ruki x yui#yui x ruki#rukiyui#rukiyui fanfic#diabolik lovers fandom#diabolik lovers fanfiction#diabolik lovers fanfic
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Hey idk if this has already been done but an Echo x reader enemies to lovers like reader is a separatist.
First Burn
Summary: The Separatists have won the war. The Republic lies in tatters, and the Clone Army has been repurposed for use for the Separatist Army. You are a member of Serrano’s Intelligence Department, and you just found out that you’re being gifted a clone to help you with your work. Needless to say, no one is thrilled about this.
Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x F!Reader
Word Count: 2484
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Alright, sorry that this took so long, but I've been working on it since I got it, basically, and I only managed to think of an ending that made me happy today. I hope you like it! The title comes from a Hamilton song, I think. It doesn't have anything to do with the story, but it's what I was listening to when I started writing. And, for all that this is an AU, it is not part of my AU event.
“I’m not sure I understand,” You say blankly as you look from the irate-looking man, clapped in chains, over to your direct supervisor, “Has my work been less than satisfactory?”
“Not at all.” Your Supervisor, who also happens to be your uncle and your warden, replies as he roughly claps you on the shoulder, “Count Dooku is very happy with your work. Which is why you’re getting a clone.”
The clone in question glowers at your uncle, and you’re not sure you blame him.
“You want someone who, up until a month ago, was an enemy against us to work in intelligence? Does this seem...wise?”
“It’s fine. It’s hardly clever enough to interfere.”
You’d be stunned by your uncle’s casual racism if you weren’t used to it. So you sigh and rub the back of your head, “Alright. But when this goes terribly, I reserve the right to say, ‘I told you so’.”
“Ha! You won’t have to.” He claps your shoulder one more time, “Have fun!” And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with a man who, you’re sure, would sooner put a blade in your throat than anything else.
“Right, well...what should I call you?” You finally ask.
“CT-1409.”
“...right. I’m not calling you by a number.” You can’t help but wonder if the Republic ever gave him a name. It would be awful if they hadn’t.
You’re surprised when he looks surprised. What kind of awful stories must the Republic have spread about your people for him to be surprised at your statement?
“...My brothers call me Echo.”
“Echo,” You nod once, committing his name to memory. And then, almost carelessly, “Nice to meet you, Echo.” You absolutely need him to see you as a person, rather than a Separatist. Because if he wanted to hurt you, no one would come to save you.
He shoots you a look, “Where are my brothers?”
“No idea. But I can look into it if you want.” You turn and head deeper into your domain, “Follow me please, there are some safety things we need to cover.”
“Like what?” Echo sounds sarcastic, though he is following you, so you’ll accept the small win.
“Well, primarily, this facility is located deep underground. Most of the machines down here are dedicated to life support. If any of them stop working, we die before anyone even realizes that there’s something wrong.” You reply.
“It would take time to run out of air.” He argues back, logically.
You pause and look at him, “You misunderstand. If any of these machines break down, this entire facility will be filled with toxic gas. We’d be dead before we even knew what was happening.”
Echo stares at you, “What.” It doesn’t sound like a question.
“Toxic gas. Dead instantly. I’m not sure what wasn’t clear about that.”
“I’m more confused by the fact that this sounds like a prison rather than a place spies hang out.”
Well. He’s not wrong.
You shrug but continue, “We have a small army of maintenance droids whose sole function is to keep the machines working. Please don’t mess with the droids.”
“Noted.” He follows you further into the facility and then stops, “Aside from the droids, I haven’t seen any other people.”
“Yeah, well. That’s because there aren’t.”
“So, what,” Wow, his sarcasm could be used as a weapon with how skillfully he wields it, “You work alone in intelligence?”
You shake your head, “There are plenty of people who work in intelligence, but I’m the only one who works here. I’m the best analyst that Serrano has.”
“So you work alone.”
“Well, it’s not like I can leave, now is it?” You start walking again, “Keep up, Echo.”
He falls into step next to you, though he doesn’t say anything as you show him around the facility. It’s not large, all things considered.
The majority of the space is filled with all of the machines and computers needed to run the life support. Your working area is a decently sized room that could probably fit ten people comfortably, for all that you use it alone.
The living space, though, is much more homey.
“So, this is where we sleep. And eat.” you pause, “And basically do everything that isn’t work.”
It’s not tiny. There are two distinct bedrooms, on opposite sides of the living room, and each bedroom has a fresher attached to it. The kitchen is decently sized and has all of the appliances that you might need to survive.
“My room is the one closest to the door,” You motion to the door, and then you motion to the other one, “That one’s been empty since I was moved in, but I air it out and clean it weekly so you don’t have to worry about dust or mold.”
“Moved in—”
“Sorry?”
Echo glances at you, “You said you were moved in, not that you moved in.”
You don’t say anything for a moment, taking your time to consider your words carefully, “Once, there was a group of people who felt, strongly, that the way that Dooku was doing things was not beneficial to Serrano as a whole.” You finally say, “Unfortunately, being a former Jedi is like having a cheat code for life, so—”
“So this is actually a prison then.”
You smile bitterly and hold your hands to the side, “And we both have life sentences.”
Something softens in his hard gaze, “I’m sorry.”
You shrug, “Don’t be. I made my choice, and I made it knowing what the consequences might be.”
“Brave.”
You laugh, “Well, you’d be the only one who thinks that.” You head into your kitchen and wave your hand over the holo-computer to wake it up from its sleep, “Anyway, this is where we order food, clothes, and personal things that we might need.” You explain, “Orders need to be submitted by 6 pm on the last day of the work week, and everything we order will be delivered by noon the next day.”
You move one of the holograms, showing a half-formed grocery list.
“And it’s delivered accurately?”
“Yep. If we can’t get a specific item, a message will arrive to my personal comm.” You explain, “I’ll add you to the contact list so you can get those comms too.” You fold your arms, “What else—”
Echo leans in and adds a couple of food items to the list, looking impressed when the list shifts and adjusts itself so it remains sorted logically.
“Ah! Laundry!” You walk over to a sliding wood door and pull it open, “Washer, dryer,” You point to each object individually, “We’ll probably want to work out a chore schedule, but I don’t have a problem doing all of the laundry.” You point to three baskets, “Darks, lights, towels. Our dryer isn’t the best, so towels need to be dried on their own or nothing will get dry.”
Echo stares at you, and then his gaze slides around the room. “How long have you been down here?” He finally asks.
“I was thrown down here 6 months after the war started.” You reply honestly.
Echo turns his gaze back to you, “You’ve been down here for almost two years? Alone?”
“Well, it’s not so bad.” You lie with a shrug, “Nothing was stopping me from enrolling in the local University so I got another degree. In Communications. And I learned how to cook.”
“You had to have been lonely though.”
“Well. Loneliness is relative. Better here than dead, right?”
“I guess.” Echo looks around for a moment, “You never tried to escape?”
“Yeah, I did mention the toxic gas, right? Kill us instantly?” You shrug, “Besides, where would I go? My uncle is the warden.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Anyway, you should probably go and put in an order for clothes and hygiene stuff. There’s enough clothes in storage that you’ll be fine for a bit, but they’re old.”
“Yeah. Good idea.” He murmurs.
“And you wanted me to look in on your brothers, right? Got any names?”
“My twin brother, Fives. And a couple of others. Jesse, Rex, Kix—”
You pass him a pad of paper and pen, “Here, write them down. And I’ll see what I can dig up.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank me after I find you answers, and not a moment sooner.” You flash a small smile at him and then turn to head back to the storage room. Echo needs the spare clothes from previous prisoners, and he’s going to need time to write down names.
Still, it is nice to have someone to talk to after all these years.
You hope that he warms up to you eventually. Or this is going to be a very long life sentence.
Eight months into his life sentence, Echo has to admit that it’s not terrible.
Oh, it’s not great by any definition of the word either. But it could be worse.
His cellmate is a stellar chef, a talent created through years of experimentation. Not to mention she’s quick-witted and clever, able to exchange quips and barbs with him without stumbling over her tongue.
She does talk a lot, though. Non-stop, almost.
He’s not dumb, he knows that it’s a habit that she developed over two years of isolation to keep herself sane. Honestly, she talks almost as much as Fives does. Luckily, he’s used to that.
And, begrudgingly, he likes her. Likes her enough that he gives her a nickname, Firefly.
Likes her enough that, four months ago, his plans for an escape morphed into plans for the both of them to escape. He just has to work out a couple of bugs.
Like how to keep them from dying when the poison gas fills the prison to kill them.
He frowns at the pad of paper, absently tapping his pencil against the diagram that he’s painstakingly mapped out. Echo never uses a datapad, if he can help it.
Fortunately, firefly keeps a bunch of notebooks on hand, and she doesn’t question him when he asks her to destroy a sheet of paper…or twenty.
“Whatcha working on?”
Echo glances up at her, “You really want to know?”
“Well, yeah.” She waves her pen at him, “You’ve been working on… whatever it is for the last eight months, and I’m curious.”
Echo leans back, “It’s an escape plan.”
“You’d leave me?” She asks immediately.
Echo rolls his eyes, “And escape plan for the both of us.”
Surprise flashes across her face, “You’d take me with you?”
“Would you prefer that I left you behind?”
“Ah, no.” She grins at him, “Honestly, I thought you hated me and were just being polite.”
Echo stares at her, “I gave you a nickname.” He says, exasperated.
“True, but as a friend or foe, you were very unclear.”
He laughs, “Who gives foe nicknames?”
“You clearly never met my friends.” She replies, “My bff had a nemesis who she called Furnace.”
“Do people have nemeses?”
“Uh, they do if they’re dramatic.”
He laughs again, “Well, I don’t do foe nicknames.”
She hops to her feet and crosses the living room to drop on the couch next to him and she flings her arms around his neck, “You loooove me~”
Echo presses his hand over her face and pushes her off of him, “Stop being silly.”
“Never.”
He rolls his eyes, “Anyway, this is what I have, but I’m stuck on how to deal with the poison gas.”
She ducks under his hand and leans against his shoulder, scanning the map. A thoughtful escapes her, and then she taps a spot on the map, “The Maintenence tunnels.”
“No, I considered that. They get too hot for a human to survive.”
“Yes, they do.” She agrees, “But if we alter a maintenance droid, the maintenance tunnels will stay cool enough for someone to survive the tunnel.”
“But the poison gas—”
“Is light.”
“Sorry?”
“The gas is very toxic, but it’s also a very light gas. It rises.”
“So, if we’re already in the maintenance tunnels—”
“And the temperature is high enough to hide our heat signatures—”
“Then by the time the gas fills the entire prison, we’ll already be gone.” Echo finishes, and then he pauses, “I thought you never tried to escape?”
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t make plans. Hundreds of plans, each more impossible than the last.”
“Why didn’t you try to escape?”
“Escaping the prison is the easy part, Echo. Where would I go? I was a Separatist, the Republic never would have taken me in. It was just safer to stay here.”
“And now?”
“The Republic is no more, and the average person is finally starting to take off their rose-color glasses.” She shrugs, “We might actually be able to steal a ship.”
“Steal, huh?”
“Yeah, well. No one is going to just give us a ship, Echo.”
He laughs softly, “You ever hotwire a ship before?”
“You haven’t?”
“Oh? Where does a nice girl like you learn how to hotwire vehicles?”
“I had a very formative childhood.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Echo leans in so that his face is only an inch away from hers. “You know, I changed my mind. Maybe I do love you.”
“You only love my ideas.”
“Your body isn’t that bad.”
“Rude!”
His grin widens, “So, when can we make this happen?”
“Mm…a week? Maybe two.”
“That soon, huh?”
“That soon.” She agrees.
They fall into a comfortable silence, and then Echo smirks, “So, how do we keep them from getting suspicious?”
“Well, we have to act normal.”
“And when we start spending all of our time together?”
“I dunno, I’m sure we can come up with something.” She says with a sigh.
A slow smirk crosses his face, “I think I have an idea.”
“Oh? Wha—” She squeaks when his lips land against hers, coaxing her into a deep kiss. His tongue slides against her lower lip, as he presses her back so that she’s half lying under him.
“Like that.” Echo breathes out as he supports his weight over her.
She blinks at him, wide-eyed, and deeply flustered, “Yeah. That’ll work.”
“Great, I’ll move into your room, cyare.”
“Um…okay. But the beds aren’t that big.”
Echo leans in and kisses the tip of her nose, “You let me worry about that.”
“And later? When we’re free from Serrano?”
“We stick together. After all, I can’t just abandon my girlfriend, right?”
“Girlfriend?” She asks softly.
“Girlfriend.” Echo agrees, “Unless you’d rather not?”
“Well, I’m not opposed.”
He grins at her, wide and boyish before he leans in and kisses her one more time, “Alright. I need to move my bed into your room. Wanna help?”
“I suppose I’d better.”
Echo rolls off of her, and offers her his hands to pull her to her feet. Fives is going to find this hilarious. He goes to prison and comes out on the other side with a girlfriend.
#star wars#tcw#arc trooper echo x reader#echo x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#f!reader fic#answered asks
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Hey we've been thinking about that "OSDD was a temporary diagnosis" post for a while and. it makes complete sense what you guys said but like. we can't get ANYONE to diagnose us as anything CDD, let alone anything that isn't going to give us the treatment equivalent of slapping a bandaid on a stab wound. Is there like, anywhere we could look further into P-DID/DID research on the subject? We're not comfortable moving off of the self diagnosis of OSDD-1b yet so we wanna be triple sure to get as much information as possible.
Thankies 💕💕💕
- 🐑 & 🌸 of the Constellation Collective
There's places all over to find that info, but I want to encourage you not to overthink it. You can dig deeper, you absolutely should, but the label... it doesn't matter. It's really, truly okay to get this one wrong and switch around between the labels or use them interchangeably. I promise. You don't need to be right, because you're right regardless (unless it's a misdiagnosis, but I'm going to talk about that at the end of this, because it's important).
I am diagnosed OSDD, but I call myself DID. It's easy, I understand that there's not that big of a difference, no one is going to yell at us (me or you) if it turns out that we have the other one. We're not misrepresenting ourselves. If it turns out I would only ever be diagnosed with OSDD, that doesn't mean I was wrong using the DID label, or that I was even mislabelling myself.
Whether you're diagnosed with DID or OSDD largely depends on where you live. I made a post about this a while back but I can't find it. The US is more likely to diagnose OSDD with minor amnesia than the UK. They're more likely to call minor amnesia DID (as they should). It's literally a dice throw, and not that important.
To quote my BFF, Colin Ross,
The dividing line between DID and most cases of dissociative disorder not otherwise specified is arbitrary [or OSDD]. Most cases of DDNOS are partial forms of DID which lack either clear switching of executive control, full amnesia barriers between identity states, or clear differentiation and structure of identity states. They are partial forms of DID with the same patterns of childhood trauma and co-morbidity.
Also this quote.
So on the one hand we have a vast swathe of people who are, or would be, diagnosed with OSDD as opposed to dissociative identity disorder but who show almost all of the symptoms of DID. Many people therefore see DID and OSDD as appearing on a spectrum, and prefer to conflate the two conditions so that DID/OSDD represents a range of dissociative experiences with more or less amnesia and greater or less elaboration and distinctive identity states or parts of the personality.
It is also what happens in practice: very few people would realistically distinguish between DID and OSDD.
And,
Both OSDD and DID are the result of the spontaneous action of the brain in response to trauma. Both contain different self-states, holding shards of memory and ‘unformulated experience’ (Stern, 1997). Both can be helped by similar approaches to therapy which encourage neuronal repair and result in brain growth such as increased hippocampal volume. Above all, all forms of dissociation need to be validated for their unique contribution to survival.
P-DID is a bit of a new one. Here's the ICD link to it, if you want to read more, but it's going to be the same as above. It's really not that important. Its main difference is that the system doesn't really switch, it's mostly intrusion (like feelings bleeding between alters and host).
These are really only useful for describing how your system generally functions.
Finally, misdiagnosis.
It's okay to be wrong completely. Maybe it's just BPD or OCD, autism, any of the number of disorders that come with identity confusion.
When someone self DX something like BPD and they finally get to therapy and find out it's literally ANYTHING else, we celebrate with them. Good job, you found answers! You're on the right path! You can get the right kind of help now. You did what you had to do in order to get by, and you did your best to try to understand yourself with the tools you had. The use of the first label wasn't malicious, you didn't hurt anyone by using it, and you probably got yourself pretty knowledgeable on the topic.
You are now a resource for those who are also trying to figure themselves out.
Who knows better what the difference between BPD and OSDD is than someone who tried out both and found the answer?
Being wrong doesn't mean you're bad, I don't know why we don't celebrate a misdiagnosis of DID like we do some others. We're all just trying to understand ourselves, and sometimes we're wrong. The point is that eventually we figure it out, and the journey there... recognizing a misdiagnosis is a GOOD part of your story, and it's an important story to share. You were still struggling, regardless of what label you used and what you're being diagnosed with.
Use the label that feels right to you. If you want to keep using OSDD, that's fine. You're describing how your system works right now, and that's perfect. Using DID or OSDD, you'll end up in the same place regardless-- hopefully this means with a good therapist who's going to take your symptoms seriously, but you're going to end up in that same chair no matter what label you're using.
I really hope this helped.
Also, I didn't really touch on it, but I'm sorry you're struggling to get a diagnosis. That must be incredibly frustrating. Don't give up. Unfortunately, the average is about 5 years for most. Keep advocating for yourself.
#not syscourse#did#osdd#osddid#actually dissociative#actually traumagenic#actually did#actually osdd#pro system#system safe#CDDs first#pro endo#plurality#actually plural
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every once in a while i just stop and think about how ridiculous my presence on this site is bc like. If you just saw me walkin on down the street you would NOT think i have a tumblr account especially not an umbrella academy themed account. Like. I don't think y'all can get it without knowing that like. I dress gyaru most if the time so I just kinda look like a pile of sparkles in a teal Juicy track suit and leopard print shoes. I don't look like i should be here at all...
#gyaru fashion#I mean I haven't been dressing like this for a super long time but still#I'm what people may call a ''baby gyaru''#but anywho#Anyone else here who doesn't look like they should be here?#Tumblr#Baby gal#Style and fashion#not fandom related#fashion
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> be a robin buckley fan
> be lesbian
> project on robin
> look up "internalized homophobia robin buckley" on tumblr because it's cathartic
> 3/4 of the posts are about st3ddie or just about steve
#saw one in which steve was like ''no robin you don't understand! i have never been loved! i don't know how that feels like!''#i have several grips about that interpretation#going from the fact that's not true (dustin is clearly a big steve fan + robin herself cares about him deeply)#to the fact he probably wouldn't be introspective enough to voice his emotions this concisely not to mention he'd probably wouldn't take#a moment to realize he's never felt loved if that were the case. i mean. he could think that. when he's like 35 and more in touch with his#inner world. 19yo steve can't even get the hint that hitting on a girl who's already clearly taken (nancy) is wrong so like i don't expect#him to be that smart#but i can live with people having takes i don't agree with. my opinion doesn't have to be everyone else's opinion if you see steve that way#it fine#what bothered me was the fact he was saying this to a lesbian living in the 80s lmao#who tells him that 1) her whole life has been an error 2) she doesn't think he'd want to be close to her if he truly knew her and 3)#3) is paralyzed by fear of social suicide if she dares believe for even a second that the girl she likes may like her too#like i dont need people to do deep dives into robin lore and quote from memory lines from Surviving Hawkins abt robin feeling like she's#rotten inside. not supposed to have friends. feeling like something is wrong with her and that pushes people away etc etc#the fact that she's a lesbian should tell you enough abt who has the biggest chances of being loved 😭#also bothered me that it showed up when looking up posts abt internalized homophobia because?? where's the internalized homophobia therw#unless it's gay steve feeling bad abt it in an AU (as if canon robin didn't go through it)#like look im not bothered to find steve-centric content in the robin tag cos people are gonna tag her in posts mentioning her.#she's his friend.#but there are barely any posts at all about robin's internalized homophobia. like i saw 2 or 3. compared to all the steve or steddie ones#where's the love for my babygirl 😭😭#anti steddie#not really but y'know i don't wanna bother anyone#edit: the bit about there being like 3 posts on robin w internalized homophobia isn't exactly true. there are a few. but they still feel#drowned in st3ddie posts#like something isn't right here
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jonathan sims head archivist of the magnus institute london
#IM JUST POSTING HIM RANDOMLY BECAUSE I CANNOOOOOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME DRAW ANYONE ELSE. I HAVE APHANTASIA MAN IT'S HARD OUT HERE#i just started season 3 and heard him mention the graying hair i was like hm.. what if i tried drawring some characters.#i'm actually super happy with how he looks... i had some prior inspiration bc i followed one artist who's posted fanart b4--#(which is how i first heard of the series) and so i already kinda had a picture of him in my head bc of that (i love their art sdfghgfdjh)#so i was jus sketchin and i was like.... yeah this looks ok. i wanted his hair to be kinda just pokin up every which way in front--#--because i imagine him constantly running a hand through it. otherwise it'd look nice n tidy. i just sketched til it looked good enough#the eyes were easy because i wanted sharp and tired. the color was just me testin shit out and being like oooo that looks pretty#the outfit..... i just googled some like business casual stuff LOL. i thought it looked nice#bag and flashlight because he's dungeon crawling#he's also filipino for no reason other than i said so#OHHH YEAH freckles. freckles are cute. also worm scars.#i gotta say i didn't wanna put glasses on him but i thought he looked nakey without em.. but also it might be bc i was strugglin w lineart#the glasses make him look younger i think. which is bad!! he needs to look at least 35!!!#i dunno if i have it in me to draw the others;;;;;;;;;; martin i can't figure out a color scheme for-- and tim & sasha.... waauugghhh....#it's hhhhaaardd because when i'm like reading anything i cannot *picture* characters.... i just get like..... a feeling yknow.....#again i already had some vague images for jon (and martin) bc i saw fanart before lol so that's what showed up in my head#i have a good *feeling* of what sasha should look like but i cannot for the life of me draw it....#i keep sketching and going “noo this doesn't look like her” <- i DON'T know what she looks like#i've somehow instead ended up with a sketch that really feels like melanie tho lmao#if you're somehow at the bottom of this long ramble i will send you $500.#the void given form
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seeing so many videos on YT lately that are like “I read this dark romance book and i’m calling the police” or some condescending put-down derivative
babe if it’s not for you then put it down and find something new to read nobody wants an hour-long video of you yucking someone’s yum
#tired of people acting holier than thou bc something goes against the norm#leigh speaks#if it's bad then who gives a shit honestly#have we learned nothing#there will always be an audience for something#'if it doesn't have a happy ending then i don't want it'#eat! my! ass!#this sounds super aggro sorry but this is like the third video like this i've inexplicably had recommended to me this week#if you don't like dark romance then fine i hope someone picks you at last be on your merry way#but just bc it squicks you out doesn't mean it isn't valid to someone else#listen i hated 50 shades as much as anyone else back in the day and then at one point i realized#this is a lot of people's favorite book and i don't have to agree with them but it also isn't fair to make them feel shitty over it#so i ignored it and moved on and stopped dogpiling onto it bc i wasn't the audience for it and! that's! ok!#not to say that it wasn't problematic bc it was but that's veering from the topic#most if not all dark romance is problematic anyway but! it's FICTION and people forget that#like come on feysand started out preetttttyyyy problematic in acotar and bc of its origins i do consider it partly a dark romance#look at me writing an essay here when i should be working on other stuff ok i'm done
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#unpopular opinions and mixed feelings about wednesday netflix series in the tags because where else can i put them honestly#so here it goes. i was drawn into watching it because jenna ortega looks like wednesday should look and the aesthetic felt perfect#but i kind of didn't know what i was getting myself into. like i didn't know it was another high school drama essentially#but thats fine i can handle a high school drama even though i am way oas3that time in my life haha#the thing is. this doesnt have the priginal addms family vibe. they were DIFFERENT than anyone else and it felt genuine#here on netflix it just doesn't. to me. at least. it's like this mix of umbrella academy slash a series of unfortunate events slash#slash the 2007 emo culture revival we kind of uave going on right now that has nothing to do with what it was except the color pattern#i am sorry but the original Wednesday was mean and edgy and murderous but it was effortless#thats who she was. this netflix version is some... sanitized edgy version for kids born after 2003 idk how else to put it#when she is mean all i see a similarly dressed 19 year old mean customer at my work these days lmao#she's mean she's edgy and she thinks she can get you to do anything for 40 dollars.#that's........... not it. sorry#not relatable not feeling it#anyway!!!
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Bloodline of the Sacred Dragons - Chapter 2-7
[warning for violence and dismemberment on this one. yes you read that right. as opposed to me who did not pay attention to this on my first read. lol.]
The group emerged back into the fields, after safely crossing the mountains. They hurried on their journey, heading towards the Pao Plains.
By Krin and Tyrin's calculations, they should be a day ahead of the monsters. If they could get the mercenaries at Pao and come back, they would be able to ambush the enemies at the mountain path that led to the plains. The devils wouldn't be able to escape a trap in such a narrow pathway.
In the forest, Karin replaced Randolf as the lead. Tyrin gave the general directions by her side, and she decided the exact path to traverse according to the condition of the plants and other forest signs. Bleu was speechless on how observant she was, not letting the slightest detail pass unnoticed.
Bleu struggled the most with the thick cluster of trees. Unlike Camallia and Karna, he didn't have the power to heal everyone's exhaustion either. He grew frustrated with himself. Once they got to a wider place or a road he'd be able to stretch out his wings. He did his best to put up with it.
Once the sun had gone down, the group had finally come out the end of the forest, reaching the road between Bustoke and the Pao Plains.
And there, their calculations failed them.
They ran right into the monster squad that had stolen the Manual. A sudden encounter, one could say.
"They shouldn't be here by our calculations, so why…" Krin complained about the unexpected turn of events, as she stared at the twenty or so monsters that had appeared in front of them.
The devils were just as shocked as them.
"Impossible! Why is there a Sacred Dragon here?"
One of the monsters, accompanying the squad of harpies and armed lizardmen, stared wide-eyed at Bleu, with empty eyes devoid of light. Those eyes caught sight of Camallia by his side. The devil then understood everything.
"So you survived. And you guided them here. It's always you, always… Fine, if you'll be this much of a hindrance, then I, Ziduur, will end you just like those pursuing mages."
The monster's fangs showed over the corner of his lips, and his two horns, atop his head like a moth's antennas, swung backwards in a menacing stance. Deep crimson hair ran from the nape of his neck to his back like a mane, bristling. As if answering to that, the lizardmen raised their slimy triangular heads, their bifurcated tongues flickering through their lips. The harpies let out ear-piercing shrieks.
"If you want this, come and take it."
Ziduur held a box made of ebony. It was full of intricate inlay decorations with a foreign feel.
"Sir Bleu, there's no doubt, the Manual is in there!"
With Tyrin's shout, the battle began.
"Randolf, Tyrin, take care of the girls!"
While shouting, Bleu bolted towards Ziduur, as if drawn to the Manual in his hands. Cerberus followed behind him.
"Wait, don't just rush in, it won't go well if we fight separated," Randolf hastily stopped Camallia, who wanted to jump ahead as well.
"Bleu, come back right now! Bleu!"
Karin's voice did not reach Bleu, and he began to fight the harpies in midair.
All his pent up feelings were unleashed at once. And at the same time, he had confidence in being the one who always broke through the enemy lines. With that amount of enemies, he believed he could strike the commander at once and end the battle with that. There was no reason to eliminate them all. Once he retrieved the Manual, he could just disperse the rest of the enemies. The shorter the battle, the less likely it would be for Karin and the others to get hurt. And by defeating all the monsters himself, he could prove his power to them. Maybe then the girls would stay behind without a fuss, Bleu thought.
However, his reckless advance did not go as he expected.
Superior to him in speed and number, the harpies put up a tough fight against him. Wanting to rush to Ziduur straight away, he had become isolated from his allies.
Randolf and Camallia shielded the others, facing the incoming lizardmen head on.
"Bleu, I'll burn down these enemies, get out of the way!"
Krin began chanting a Blaze spell, but Karin stopped her. If she cast the flames in a wide area, Bleu would certainly get caught in them.
"Krin, give up and target a single enemy," Karin ordered, while shooting down an enemy away from Bleu with perfect accuracy. Their lack of coordination was apparent. Karin bit down her anger at Bleu's stupid actions.
"I won't show mercy to any who interfere. Join the hateful corpses that sleep under this earth."
Ziduur took out a piece of a crimson jewel, and held it tightly within his left hand, as if squeezing it. Beams of light came through between his fingers.
"That light!" Camallia shouted, alerting everyone.
Ziduur punched the ground. Thin sparks of crimson lightning ran at once over the surface.
"What did he do?"
Karna watched in awe as the ground in front of her began to stir, and something jumped out from within.
"Eep!" She let out a strangled scream as she came face to face with a skeleton.
"Get down!"
Hearing that shout from behind her, Karna got down while covering her head with both arms. The end of a flail flew past her, sending the skeleton's skull flying like a football. As she pulled the weapon back, Camallia smashed its upper body as well.
In the brief moment where Karna breathed a sigh of relief, more skeletons jumped from below, one after the other. Those skeletal warriors, carrying all kinds of different weapons, were the warped forms of monsters once defeated in that land, and the travelers they once killed.
"Are we surrounded?"
Watching the growing swarm of skeletons and lizardmen around them, Randolf swung his Battle Axe once again. If the monsters attacked all at once, they certainly wouldn't manage to defend against all of them.
Karna shouted for everyone to get closer together.
"O benevolent ones who watch upon all, please hear our prayers. Gather the righteous light within our hearts, and make it into a shield of holy brilliance!!"
By her incantation, the faint shine of the supporting spell Boost enveloped the whole group from within. The monsters with no flesh nor blood were driven away by that light.
Not wasting the opportunity, Randolf and Camallia attacked. The mages covered the openings between them, Tyrin freezing the enemies to stand as shields, and Krin erecting walls of fire with her Blaze spells. They were doing their best to defend themselves, but the situation still wasn't good as they were outnumbered.
On one swing, Camallia's flail became entangled in another flail wielded by a skeleton. The resulting forces made both of them lose their grips on their weapons. Without delay, the skeleton took a short sword from the back of its shield, and charged at the now empty-handed girl. Another short sword was thrown at the skeleton as it did that. By reflex, the skeleton knocked it down with its shield. Camallia jumped at the fallen sword, grabbing it and swinging it at the skeleton's leg to cut it down. The monster fell down as it lost its balance, and Camallia stepped on its bony body from over its shield, using all of her strength to crush it.
"Thank you, Sir Randolf."
Picking up her flail, she stood back to back with Randolf, who had moved backwards. She extended a hand in his direction, trying to return his short sword that had saved her from her predicament.
"I don't mind. Keep it. Without a spare weapon, something like this might happen to you again."
Answering that, he swung his blade at another monster.
At that time, Bleu was also surrounded by even more enemies than before.
Sacred Dragons had tough bodies and powerful attacks, but were in no way invincible. Their thick hide was hard to penetrate with a blade, yet at some point he had been wounded, and it bled. While he had finished off many of the harpies, he had also hurt his wings. The injury was not severe, but it made him unable to fight the remaining harpies in the air. Having fallen to the ground, Bleu faced a concentrated assault from the group of enemies.
Sustaining minor injuries all over his body, Bleu had made a pile of corpses out of his enemies. Yet he was clearly exhausted. Taking a fierce blow to his chest, he began to cough violently.
In this terrible moment, a lizardman brandished his Large Axe. In Bleu's current condition, he couldn't dodge or spew out his lightning breath.
The monsters became agitated.
Steeling himself for the fatal blow, Bleu saw a silver blur pass through the corner of his vision. Fresh blue blood spilled by. With a deep gash on his torso, the lizardman turned around only to be cut again like a paper doll by sharp claws, this time on the chest.
"Zylo!?" Bleu exclaimed in surprise, seeing the werewolf that had showed up behind the fallen lizardman.
"It's been a long time, Bleu."
Zylo's eyes had the glint of a wild beast hidden within, and he narrowed them in recognition for an instant.
Taking that as an opening, the harpies attacked from the sky.
"Watch out!"
Faster than Bleu's cry, Zylo jumped to the air. He spun next to harpy like a gear, hitting it with a somersault, and knocking it down hard to the ground. The blood from the harpy's torn neck ran in lines across her dead body.
"Before worrying for others, worry about yourself. Honestly, what a pathetic fight you put up. Have you forgotten your past experience? I'll show you how it is to fight as a group. Watch and learn."
Zylo howled.
The lizardmen and harpies flinched at the incoming chants of beast hunters. From its direction came the rushing sound of rain. A merciless rain of arrows…
Once the synchronized barrage of arrows ended, Zylo had also disappeared. Too fast for Bleu's eyes to keep up, he ran between the disoriented enemies, cutting them down as he passed them by. One by one they fell to the ground.
Having broken through the enemies surrounding them, Zylo reached Karin's group.
"It's Zylo, the king of Bustoke."
Krin calmed down the others, who were on guard, unsure if he was a new enemy.
"We'll regroup with Bleu. Follow me without delay," Zylo ordered, and turned away from them without waiting for an answer. He spoke as if certain that they'd obey. Not forceful. Just showing unwavering confidence.
"Diane!!" He shouted. In answer, a squad of archers appeared from the forest shadows, led by an elf girl. Their bowstrings rang as they once again released their arrows in unison.
Diane's archers concentrated their assault on the skeletons. The ropes tied in their arrows perfectly wrapped around their enemies. The skeletons hit by them fell down and tumbled through the ground. It seemed as if they knew what enemies they'd be facing, which made Krin impressed, but also a bit suspicious.
"Let's go!"
Zylo dashed away, heading towards Bleu, who had recovered some energy and continued to fight on his own. The others ran behind him as fast as they could.
"Karna, Camallia, heal Bleu, quickly!"
As Zylo and Randolf took the surrounding enemies down, Karin immediately asked the priests to tend to Bleu. While the archers of Bustoke kept lending them support, Camallia healed everyone who had been injured with Aura, the high level healing spell.
"Thank you, Camallia. You too, Karin…" Bleu thanked the girls.
"There's no time to waste," Zylo urged Bleu. "Let's retrieve the Manual at once with this."
Led by the wolf king, the group split apart the confused enemies. Separated from each other, they had no time to recover, and were shot down by Diane's squad.
"Now. Sir Bleu, the Manual!" Tyrin shouted.
Spreading his healed wings, Bleu flew over the skeletons. The monsters were knocked down by the wings and the gust of wind.
Ziduur held up the ruby in his hand. His body was enveloped in red light.
"Like I'll let you teleport!"
The monster had jumped away, but Bleu sliced him with his claws.
Ziduur's arm was torn and sent flying, tracing an arc in midair, weighted down by the ebony box it carried.
Bleu had his attention drawn to the Manual for a moment. Ziduur didn't miss that, casting a Blaze spell in that time. Bleu crossed his arms in front of him as the flames burst in front of him.
"Bleu!!"
Karin and Camallia left the few remaining monsters to Zylo, and ran to the dragon.
He looked down bitterly at the space Ziduur had teleported away from. It shimmered like hot air, proving that a devil stood there just a moment before.
He picked up the box with the Manual, and Camallia saw that both his arms were bleeding.
"Are you wounded?" she asked, walking to him.
"It's no big deal. Just scratches."
"Even a small injury cannot be left alone."
While he insisted that he was fine, Camallia softly kissed his wounds.
Bleu suddenly felt eyes on him, and tried to pull away from her.
"Please stay still."
Camallia's warm lips moved over his skin as she said the words. Her hot tongue traced over his wound, licking off the blood. Her throat made a glugging noise as she drank it. Her lips continued to move over it, trembling with her incomprehensible chants and sighs.
She let go after a while, and no trace of the wound was left.
"Bleu, the king of Bustoke is calling."
Karin only said that before turning her back and running away.
To next part>
Translation notes:
"Zidur" is apparently a word of a power to summon one of the creatures in the Necronomicon by Simon. I know nothing of that book other than a cursory look so I can't talk much about it, but do you know how hilarious it is to google a Shining Force thing and come up with a pdf full of demon rituals and absolutely no other results? Unparalled experience.
Also, the character's name does have a longer "u" sound so I reflected that in my translation as well.
I don't recall Ziduur being explicitly referred to as a man, but his speech manners are pretty rough and he'll eventually be using the rough and masc "ore" pronoun, so unlike Otrant I just made the call to use he/him pronouns for him.
Zylo's species in the original game is given as "wolfling". His base class however is "werewolf", so nothing wrong here.
Up to this point I had been calling the dog "Cerberos" because that's closer to the japanese reading and I didn't think to look it up, but I was recently reminded that the games use "Cerberus" instead. I'd rather stick close to the official translations when it doesn't matter so I've updated past posts and will be using the game romanization from here on.
#shining series#shining force#shining force 2#shining force novel translation#bloodline of the sacred dragons#sf bleu#there we go. the annoying arrogant protag has learned a valuable lesson about the real super power of teamwork!#now things can finally progress smoothly into a great team dynamic!#...#dont. don't look at the page count. don't- it's fine. it'll be fine#sf karin#if this was a game she should be the leader and not bleu just saying#or it could be a protag choice with a few route differences#*person who has only played two tactical rpgs in their life* hmm. getting a lot of fantasy maiden wars vibes from this#also there's clearly a love triangle rearing its ugly head here but i chose to see it as funny like. girl she's drinking his blood#repressed village girl who clearly doesn't have enough going on in her life watching camallia be a badass freak: God I Wish That Was Me#sfbotsd camallia#NORMAL WOMAN. ABSOLUTELY INCONSPICUOUS WOMAN. GODDAMN#and i refuse to complain she's so cool!! woman's wrongs the novel#sf2 karna twiggy#the boost chant is also so cool and i knew it from the nnd summary i used to watch so i've waited more than a year to show you pals#i wish she did more but i'm not unhappy with her role in battles here generally#sf2 randolf dongo#sf2 tyrin piper#sf krin#sf krin's cerberus#so uh. does anyone else feels the writer is constantly struggling to remember the dog's still here? i legit did not realize the first time#she hadn't been mentioned since the lab. i legit thought she had been left in manarina#a shame because a hellhound on the team is prime shining content and i wish it was better used. i wanna play with this beauty#goddamn this is a lot of characters but i do wanna ramble
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❝Bite❞
more wolf Sukuna and bunny reader
Warning: mentioned of sex but really none, still that height difference being poked at, tho. Biting, biting, BITING. Sukuna is just being a big baby :) still, MDNI
A/N: anyone else wanna walk around with Sukuna's teeth marks? Just me?
"bunny." Sukuna's body towers over you, his overgrown tail stiff and unmoving, four eyes just piercing down at you, making your bunny ears fold back.
Your friends, your little bunny gals, look behind you and clearly see an insanely tall wolf, his eyes only on you. What's their immediate though? Great, now our friend is some prey. Which isn't a half lie...
Your friends ears copy yours, an easy sign of some fear.
"'kuna?" You squeak, trying not to be so afraid. This is the man that wipes you down after fucking you dumb, or makes you cum for the fifth time every night, no need to be afraid. He huffs, yanking you to him with one hand (to which your friends are freaking out, they wanna help but look at the size of him) "its Sukuna to you, rabbit. Why are you here? I've been looking in those woods for so long. Thought we promised to meet up."
"s-sorry, I was talking with my friends—"
"maybe I should stuff your mouth with cock so you have nothing to even talk about."
You tense up. Not only because you're definitely going to gag and choke pathetically if he does make you give him head, but because you're friends heard. And, smart enough, they see what's going on between you to and hop away...
Your face goes cherry red, your eyebrows creased like you're mad. "Why would you say that?" Your words blur together, unable to keep cool. Sukuna scoffs as he sees your reaction, not even sharing a glance to your little bunny friends. He should've ate them.
"can't handle dirty talk now?" He mocks you, leaning down to your height in a taunting way. "I looked like a damn fool searching for you. Have you forgotten how you told me you'd be there?" He darkly whispers near your ear, using a tone that you haven't heard before... "I think—"
Chomp!
"I need to make us known."
Sukuna squeezes your small body on his, his tail coming to wrap you even closer to him and muffle all your little squeals and whines as he sinks his fangs into the middle on your shoulder blades, trailing the stinging marks up and to your nape and jaw. Your small hands go to push him off, but there was no success. "E-eek! 'kuna—ouch!" You mewl.
He grabs a hold of your cotton tail (just because he loves to) and pushes you in closer. He didn't bite hard enough to make any blood, but he definitely tore some skin. He pampers you neck and upper half with kisses before swooping you into his arms. "Better." He coldly gazes at all the painful yet pretty marks, red and purple teeth prints all over you.
"that hurt..." you angerily pout at him, "you're mean."
Sukuna ignores your little comment and walks over to his home, away from all eyes when he gets to take you for himself, only to keep you from squirming in embarrassment. He doesn't care who sees... maybe he wants that. "Please," he growls, "be lucky that was all I did, rabbit."
It was so short but I had this idea and in part one and two this was a strong idea of mine, him biting you!
˚꩜⋆.°⭑Do not copy, translate, or steal in any way, reblogs are appreciated and allowed.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna#ryomen smut#ryomen x reader#ryomen x you#subby bunny#hybrid#wolf boy#ryoumen sukuna#smut fic
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pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.6k words
summary: boyfriend!toji headcanons, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, he’s a simp but he’ll never admit it !!
rheya's note: grumpy man being soft for the person he really loves? i’m here for it. mamaguro is literal proof that he can and will love !!
bf!toji who is silent with his care for you. he's not one to be open or dramatic about his feelings, but you bet he'll show them in actions. small, mundane things that could only be picked out under critical eyes—like quietly placing an extra mug of coffee next to you as you work, or being the one to walk closest to the street, fingers firmly clasped around your palm. if you point it out he'll just grunt, shaking his head with a quiet "keep walking" all while pretending to ignore your silly little grin.
bf!toji who isn't really the type to be big on words of affirmation, but huge on physical touch. you tell him you did well on a project at school or work and he just hums, giving you a little nod. he doesn't say anything else—doesn't really have to because the soft lingering pat on your head is enough to tell you that he's proud.
bf!toji who is an aggressive yet affectionate lover. if you're doing something and he's not receiving your attention he will come up behind you and put you in a headlock. he thinks it's an appropriate response considering how much he craves your attention and company—why on earth are you focused on something that isn't him anyway? so be prepared to have his heavy bicep playfully curling around your throat or slinging you over his shoulders at random times—it's his way of telling you he misses you. and if anything, he'll do it to hear you whine and attempt to shove him off.
bf!toji who will absolutely take your phone and change your lockscreen to pictures of him. every so often, you'll turn your phone on and see an entirely different picture—sometimes a picture of him at the gym, other times a picture of him blocking out his face—but it's always him.
bf!toji whose own lockscreen is always something that's related to you. he's sneaky with it, always stealing pictures of you when you're not looking. he's got a separate album with them—probably hidden behind a password because it's something only he should be allowed to see. but whether it's a snapshot of his hand intertwined with yours or a blurry image of you fast asleep in his bed, it's always you. because of course you’re the first thing he should be able to see when he turns his phone on.
bf!toji who, as cliché as it sounds, is exactly the type to go feral if someone's made you upset. and he's freakishly observant, noticing even a slight pinch of your nose or wobble in your lips—he's caught them all. whether you're just down or outright sobbing, he's there, standing in front of you with pure anger weighing heavy on his brows. and yet for all his rage he's nothing but gentle as he firmly takes your face in his calloused hands, muttering a strained "what the fuck happened?" as he forces you to make eye contact with him. his own eyes will dart over your features, searching for discomfort or any other emotion as you explain, barely holding back his own emotions because there's no reason on the fucking planet that you should be upset at all.
bf!toji who rarely says the words "i love you" not because he doesn't but because the words themselves don't hold all that much meaning to him. no he'd rather spend his time proving it to you than just saying it for the sake of saying it. but, sometimes if you pretend to be asleep long enough, you'll catch him quietly whisper the words into your hair, almost like he doesn't want anyone to hear it. don't even bother trying to call him out for it—he'll deny deny deny.
bf!toji whose eyes flutter when he lets you trace over his scars. not just the one cutting over his lips but the ones that litter his back and torso—battle remnants that he doesn't remember much of. he's always hated the look of them, indifferent to old memories of a much more chaotic time in his life. but when your gentle fingers graze over the raised skin he'll sigh, oddly quiet but yet so comfortable.
bf!toji who will drop everything if you need him. don't ever hesitate to ask him for things because you're scared of being a burden—he will yell at you (affectionately). you drank too much with your friends and can't get a ride? call him and he'll pick you up even if it's 4 am. you're feeling nervous about walking home from the convenience store even though it's only ten minutes away from home? stay put and he'll come get you so that you can walk back together. shut up about all that "it's an inconvenience for you" bullshit—he'll do it and that's that.
bf!toji who asks if you've eaten today, and when you answer with a sheepish smile he'll click his tongue, crossing his bulky arms over his chest and giving you a pointed glare. then he'll say "get your ass to the kitchen. c'mon, up." while hoisting you to your feet—most of the time he'll just pick you up and plop you on the counter himself.
bf!toji who wordlessly makes you something to eat, whether it's a quick snack put together with leftovers or an actual full meal. then he'll stand in front of you with the plate and demand you eat. even a slight word of protest and he's scowling, already holding up a spoonful while grumbling a low "don't wanna hear it. open up, kid."
bf!toji who hates when you fall asleep on the couch waiting for him to get home. his job doesn't allow for the comfort of a strict schedule, and he's told you this many times. but you're nothing if not stubborn, and he can only sigh heavily as he sees you dozing against the armrest when he pushes the door open late at night. he'll click his tongue quietly, hooking both arms under your back and knees to cradle you against his chest before walking to the bedroom. though some part of him is pleased, knowing that you seem to care about him enough to make sure he's coming home every night.
bf!toji who glares at anyone who even breathes in your direction the wrong way. some guy eyeing you while you're walking on the street? toji looks like he's ready to rip his head off. some "friend" of yours asking too many questions about why you're dating a man like him? well…if looks could kill.
bf!toji who pulls you into his lap when he kisses you, because he likes the way you fit into his space so perfectly. he won't ever admit how it makes him swoon when you giggle against his lips, instead choosing to tighten his grip on your hips and pull you closer to his chest.
bf!toji who enjoys watching you sit on the kitchen counter and swing your legs back and forth—finding it so unbelievably endearing that he ends up just standing in between your legs and burying his face into your neck. his lips will map chaste kisses across your skin, and he'll hide a wry smile as your quiet giggles wash over him.
bf!toji who will notice when you eye something at a store, whether it's a pretty piece of jewelry or a new sweater or whatever—he keeps note. and then weeks later, once you've forgotten all about it, he'll come home and drop a bag into your lap before shoving his hands into his pockets. when you open it and start gushing about how much you wanted it and how pleased you are, he'll huff and turn away, muttering a low "whatever, kid. 's not a big deal."
bf!toji who sees you upset about something, and loops his bicep around your neck and tucks you under his chin. to an outsider it doesn't look like the most comforting form of a hug, but it's toji, and he's secure and he's safe and he's all the comfort you need—a tight squeeze that grounds you in a way that you can't quite describe.
bf!toji who will never admit how interested he is in your gossip. his ideal way to destress after he comes home is to sit on the couch with you in his lap, your arms looped around his waist as you press yourself against his torso and tuck your head under his chin. and even though his eyes are trained on the tv, he has no clue what's going on—he's more focused on the drama you're spilling or whoever you're ranting about. and he makes it known too, occasionally asking "then what happened, baby?" and adding in a few sounds of disbelief. by the end of your rant, he'll be saying something along the lines of "what a fucking bitch," or "honestly he deserved that," and then asks for updates on the situation over the next few days.
bf!toji who silently watches you trace your fingers over the lines on his palms. you're blabbering about something, tucked against his chest as his other arm remains wrapped around you securely, but he's just focused on your hands. it scares him a little bit—the difference between you and him. his palms are calloused, rough with battle and death, while yours are soft, clean of the horrors he's determined to keep away from you. and a small part of him tells him he shouldn't taint you with all his faults, that you deserve someone more capable of loving than he is. but then he feels you brush your lips over his scarred fingers and he sucks in a breath, tightening his grip imperceptibly. even as he hides a half smile against your brow, he knows he isn't going anywhere.
#toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fluff#toji zenin x reader#zenin toji x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x you#toji x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#toji angst#toji zenin x you#jjk fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#toji headcanons#toji zenin#toji drabbles#jjk drabbles#jjk headcanons#toji hcs
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I see a lot of people clowning on the people of Pelican Town for not repairing the community center themselves or clowning on Lewis for embezzling and. like. Those criticisms aren't entirely unfair. But I think instead of coming at it from a perspective of "why can't the townspeople do this" we should be asking "why and how can the farmer do this?"
Like. Think about it. The farmer arrives in Stardew Valley on the first day of spring. By the first day they're obviously different. By day five the spirits of the forest who haven't been seen by the townsfolk in years or generations are speaking to them. By the second week they've developed a rapport with the wizard that lives outside town.
In the spring they go foraging and find more than even Linus, who's spent so many years learning the ways of the valley. Maybe he knows, when he sees them walking back home. Maybe he looks at them and understands that they're different, chosen somehow.
In the summer they fish in the lakes and the ocean for hours on end, catching fish that even Willy's only ever heard of, fish that he thought were the stuff of legend. They pull up giants from the deep and mutated monstrosities from the sewers.
In the fall, their crops grow incredibly immense; pumpkins twice as tall as a person, big enough that someone could live inside. The farmer cuts it down with an axe without even batting an eye. Does Lewis wonder, when he checks the collection bin that night and finds it full to the brim with pumpkin flesh? What does he think? Does he even leave the money? Does he have the funds to pay the farmer millions of dollars for the massive amounts of wine they sell? Or is it someone--something--else entirely?
In the winter, the farmer delves into the mines. No one in Pelican Town has been down there in decades. No one in living memory has been to the bottom. The farmer gets there within the season. They return to the surface with stories of dwarven ruins and shadow people, stories they only tell to Vincent and Jas, whose retellings will be dismissed by the adults as flights of fancy. People walking by the entrance to the mines sometimes hear the farmer in there, speaking in a language no one can understand. Something speaks back.
The farmer speaks to the the wizard. They speak to the spirit of a bear inside a centuries-old stone. They speak to the shadow people and the dwarves, ancient enemies, and they try to mend the rift. They speak to the Junimos, ancient spirits of the forest and the river and the mountain. They taste the nectar of the stardrops and speak to the valley itself. They change Pelican Town, and they change the valley. Things are waking up.
And what does Evelyn think? She's the oldest person in the valley; she was here when the farmer's grandfather was young. (How old *is* she, anyway? She never seems to age. She doesn't remember the year she was born.) Does she see the farmer and think of their grandfather? Does she try to remember if he was like this too, strange and wild and given the gifts of the forest?
And does their grandfather haunt the valley? He haunts the farm, still there even after his death; his body died somewhere else, but his spirit could never stay away for long. Does Abigail, using her ouija board on a stormy night, almost drop the planchette when she realizes it's moving on its own? Does Shane, walking to work long before anyone else leaves their house, catch glimpses of a wispy figure floating through the town? Does the farmer know their grandfather came back to the place they both love so much?
Mr. Qi takes interest in the farmer. He's different, too; in a different way, maybe, but the principles are the same. They're both exceptional, and no matter what Qi says about it being hard work and dedication, they both know the truth: the world bends around the both of them, changing to fit their needs. Most people aren't visited by fairies or witches. Most people don't have meteorites crash in their yard. Most people couldn't chop down trees all day without a break or speak to bears and mice and frogs.
The farmer is different. The rules of the world don't work for them the way they work for everyone else. The farmer goes fishing and finds the stuff of fairy tales. The farmer goes mining and fights shadow beasts and flying snakes. The farmer looks at paths the townspeople walk every day and finds buried in the dirt relics of lost civilizations.
The farmer is a violent, irrepressible miracle, chosen by the valley and destined to return to it someday. Even if they'd never received the letter, they would've come home.
They always come home eventually.
#lich says shit#stardew valley#sorry for the stardew valley meta i'm just so obsessed with how FREAKY the farmer is. Like it's so fun#gonna write another long ass post about the farmer's bloodline specifically and. like.#why did their grandpa leave the valley?? why did their parents never go back??#stardew valley farmer#sdv
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can i request spencer reid w bau!reader and their married but reader forgets to put her wedding ring back on and derek’s asking spencer about what happened/if theyre having marital problems and spencer starts panciking but she just forgot about it in her pocket😭
Derek's brow is knitted in real, authentic concern when he corners Spencer in the BAU's kitchenette, and it turns Spencer's stomach. Usually, Derek has a teasing glimmer in his eyes, but it's scarily absent today, and he braces a large hand on Spencer's lanky bicep.
"Pretty boy," Derek starts, and his tone is soft, soothing, kind, "Anything you wanna talk about? I'm here if you need me, y'know."
Spencer tries feigning calm, which is terribly hard to do as someone who's fraught with nerves constantly, but he keeps an even tone when he speaks.
"I don't think so. Should I want to talk about something?"
Derek smiles sympathetically, almost a grimace, and Spencer feels a flash of fear run through him. Has Derek heard something about his mom?
"I don't think anyone else has noticed yet," Derek assures Spencer, "But I saw Y/N's not wearing her ring."
It's not what he'd been expecting, dreading, but it's not pleasant either. Spencer's eyes dart hurriedly to your hunched form, shoulders bent and crowding your desk as you devote yourself entirely to your paperwork. Sure enough, your wedding ring is absent from your finger, leaving an uncomfortably blank space on your skin, and Spencer's brows knit together.
"I didn't know," Spencer admits, keeping his voice to a low murmur, "I- But- we aren't having any problems. I don't think."
Derek shoots that awful pitying grimace his way again, and Spencer shakes his head, his stringy hair flying.
"No, no- we're not- we're not having problems," He asserts, but he's not sure if he's trying to convince himself or Derek more, "I mean, we bickered about coffee this morning, but not- not marriage problems bad. She just forgot it."
Spencer knows what expression will be on Derek's face if he looks, so he doesn't. He busies himself with stirring the rest of the sugar into his coffee, excusing himself before Derek can press the issue even further.
On his way out of the kitchenette he snags a donut from an open box on the counter, slipping a napkin beneath it and trying not to rush to your desk. He doesn't want to seem obvious, but he's a flaming bundle of nerves.
"Angel," He gets right to the point, placing the donut beside your hand on the desk and leaning over the back of your chair. He nestles his cheek to yours, pressing his lips against the curve of your jaw and blocking your conversation from view of the bullpen with the way he shrouds you from behind.
"Spence," You begin, alarmed at the sudden ambush of sugar, both literally and figuratively, "What-?"
"Are you mad at me?" He asks, sounding rather like a child worrying to their parents. You're only more confused after his question, and you tentatively shake your head.
"No? Should I be?"
"I don't think so," Spencer hums, "But you're not wearing your ring."
You blink, glancing at your bare ring finger.
"Oh!" You gush, your shoulders pressing back against his own as you maneuver your hand into your pocket. It's difficult sitting down, but you retrieve the ring and jam it back onto your finger, "I took it off earlier because I was taking the trash out. I didn't want it to get all goopy, and I guess I just forgot it was in there." You let your explanation hang in the air for a moment, but your eyes flash with sympathy, remembering Spencer's initial question, "Oh, Spence, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out."
"It's okay," He breathes out a shaky sigh of relief, reluctant to straighten up from where he's hugging you from behind, "You didn't even freak me out. Morgan did."
You laugh, and the sound soothes those frayed nerves in his chest, the ones that had lit with sparks of panic at Morgan's pity, "Well, don't listen to Morgan from now on. However," You reach for the donut, tearing it in half and holding one end out to Spencer while you catch the other between your teeth, "If it means I get donuts in apology, maybe I'll forget my wedding ring in my pocket more often."
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one-shot#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid headcanons#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid hc#spencer reid hcs#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid dialogue#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader fanfiction
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Sweet Like Wine
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Your monthly bleed is over—just in time for you and Astarion to find yourselves with a bit of alone time. You might not be able to feed your vampire as easily, but there's another hunger for the two of you to satiate.
Word Count: 9,154 words of filth
Warnings: sexual content (18+), soft Astarion, vulnerable Astarion, slightly insecure Astarion, mention of past sexual trauma, pet names, Astarion still doesn't realize he's loved for more than his body,
18+ Warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, oral (f receiving, m receiving), touching over clothes, naked grinding, bite kink, blood kink, soft sex, creampie, aftercare, use of the words pussy, dick, cunt & cock, mentions of reader's period
Burns Like Rum (part 1) found {here}
Epilogue Blood is Rare and Sweet as Cherry Wine coming soon!
Note: Thank you for all the love on the first part! I'm glad everyone loved it! Here's the second part :)
☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Rain was coming. You had smelled it on the air for several days now, an altogether pleasant scent that reminded you of fast-flowing rivers in a pine forest, distinctly earthy and cold.
The first day you'd smelled it, so had Astarion, stopping every few seconds to sneeze and then complain about his heightened sense of smell being trigged by weather.
You had taken to sleeping in Astarion’s tent with him over the past few days, enjoying each other’s company while you waited for your period to end. He was enjoying getting fed nightly, and you were enjoying learning about him after he gave you the night of your life.
Well, enjoying was perhaps not the right word for your experience. You were glad he trusted you enough to tell you about the things Cazador had made him do. You were grateful he felt safe enough to be vulnerable with you. But your heart broke every time he told you a little more, his voice low and tired and broken, reciting his past like it was a crime he was ready to be locked up for. And, by gods, how your hatred for Cazador grew.
It wasn’t like you had ever liked the thought of Astarion’s vampiric master. Anyone who had killed this man (who you weren’t quite sure how you felt about but knew you cared for more than anyone else you’d ever known) was evil in your book. But Cazador... Cazador made devils look like saints in your eyes.
You packed up the last remnants of your camp the morning after Astarion had whispered to you about his year encased in stone, slight trembles in his body and growing more violent the longer he'd talked. You'd held him close that night, holding his hand and sliding your fingers through his hair to comfort him. But now you were brooding in the weak morning sun, contemplating which way you'd most like to kill Cazador.
Not that you would—that right was Astarion's, should he wish it. If the time came and he decided he couldn't do it alone, well, then you'd employ one of your many planned strategies to make that bastard suffer for everything he'd done to Astarion and his siblings.
You had decided last night to move on from the place you'd been camped for over a week. You'd been there too long; people had begun to stumble upon your tents, and it was only a matter of time before someone realized Astarion was a vampire or that Gale had a weapon in his chest and decided to try and kill them.
Wyll had gone scouting last night before the sun had set and had reported a town in the distance—near enough to reach before sunset, but only if you got moving as soon as dawn broke. So, you got up early, woke up your grouchy companions, and started breaking down camp. You were on the road less than an hour later.
You walked beside Astarion, both of you weighed down by your packs, your hands swinging beside each other. The backs of your hands kept brushing. You were so distracted by it and the thought that maybe, just maybe, you would take his hand the next time they brushed, that you didn't notice the others watching.
A twinge in your side made you hiss and bring your other arm to it, on the place of an old scar. The pain was a familiar, soft throb—a telling sign that the storm you'd been smelling was getting closer.
"Is your wound still alright?" Shadowheart asked you, shocking you out of your mind, and gesturing to your abdomen. The gash had healed up nicely, little more than some light, pale scarring now, but the phantom pains lingered. They struck at random and had become a cause of concern amongst the entire camp.
You nodded. "It's fine. I haven't felt anything yet. It's just...old wounds acting up."
"Let me know if you need anything," she said, which was a phrase you'd heard at least three times a day since the day you'd gotten the wound. This time, though, she sounded even more worried than normal.
You supposed she had more than enough reason to be worried—this was the first time you'd done this much moving since you'd been injured. You hadn't had to travel or hunt since then, and even your nights with Astarion between your legs kept you on your back with your calves thrown over his shoulders.
Not that Shadowheart knew that, exactly, but she had extracted a promise out of him not to let you do anything that might reopen the wound, which also meant Astarion had refused to let you take him in your mouth, afraid that such a position would be too much for you.
"I'm okay," you promised her, trying to keep the exasperation out of your voice.
You must have failed at doing so, because Astarion whispered a moment later, "She's just trying to keep you safe."
You deflated a little. "I...I know. I'm just...tired of being treated like a glass doll. I'm healed. I can handle myself."
"I know, she's just worried... We're all worried," he added, and you knew that 'we' included himself, a recent development when it came to any kind of emotion.
"I'll be okay," you promised.
"You better be," he said, finally taking your hand in his. Giddiness spread through you like wildfire. Astarion smiled at you and you got the feeling he knew you'd been dying for that to happen. "You're too cute to die on me now."
You rolled your eyes. "Well, I'll try my best."
Astarion looked at you with a fondness that had recently appeared in his eyes; it was a look you loved, one that made your entire body grow warm every time you caught him looking at you like that. You leaned into his side, letting him kiss the top of your head gently. You smiled up at him, ready to thank him for the open display of intimacy.
And then something in his eyes changed, a sparkle in the crimson. A smile twitched on his lips. For a moment, it looked like he might say something—only for his gaze to slide to the others, walking just ahead of you as if they knew to give you privacy. The sparkle to fizzled out.
"What is it?" you asked quietly.
"Walk faster, friends!" Gale called back to you. "The clouds aren't promising, that storm you've been complaining about will be upon us soon!"
"Later," Astarion said to you. "I'll tell you later."
He squeezed your hand and quickened his pace to catch up with the rest of your companions.
~❊~
Mercifully, the long day of traveling wasn't made longer—or more painful—by a fight of any kind, only by the miserable weather. Halfway through the day, the rain had begun in the form of slow, fat raindrops. By now, it was coming down fast and hard, almost painful when it hit your body, even with your many layers of clothing.
Wyll's estimation had been a little generous; the sun, though you couldn't see it, had already set by the time you got close enough to see windows in the buildings of the town, almost every one with a candle glowing on the windowsill.
"Isn't that just quaint," Astarion murmured as the muddy river of a dirt road beneath your feet slowly transitioned into cobblestones covered in at least an inch of water. "Gods, I hope this place has a good tavern."
"I hope it has an open inn," you said. "Everything hurts."
"Your wound?" he asked, frowning and automatically putting a hand on your abdomen.
You shook your head. "No—that's fine. Just my muscles are killing me from all this walking, and old injuries are acting up. It's the storm, I knew it was coming."
Lae'zel frowned. "Are you capable of sensing the weather? Why haven't you used this trick before?"
Shadowheart giggled behind her hand and got control of herself only when the gith's head snapped toward her.
You blinked. "It— I'm not actually able to do that, Lae. It's just that old wounds ache before storms. Lots of people have that. It's...kind of an old wives' tale, I guess?"
"She was right, though," Gale said, squinting up at the sky. His hood fell from his head. "The storm came when she thought it would."
Astarion sidled closer to you, smirking, and curled a hand around your waist. Under his breath, he teased, "Perhaps I...kept you awake too late last night, didn't I? Feeling a little soreness between those lovely legs?"
You rolled your eyes but leaned into his touch. "Don't you start."
The group walked further down the main thoroughfare, slowly spreading across the street, each one looking up at the signs on the buildings. Almost everything was closed: a few tailors' shops, a perfumery, an outdoor food market with empty vendor stalls.
Music drifted from one of the few open storefronts. Warm golden light spilled out onto the cobblestone street through the windows. Raucous laughter joined the jaunty sound of a bard's music. Inside, you could see tables packed with patrons, all singing in various states of drunkenness—and all safe from the storm outside.
Wyll gestured forward. "There's your tavern, Astarion."
Astarion grinned, his fangs flashing in the low light. "Who's up for a drink?"
"Maybe later," you said.
Pointedly, Wyll added, "Once we find an inn and rooms for the night. I'd rather not make camp out here in this damp."
"What, the Blade of Frontier's doesn't know how to rough it through bad weather?" Astarion teased.
"Stop taunting him and let's find an inn," you said, nudging him gently. "I just...want to go to bed, really."
"Alright," Astarion said, that sparkle back in his eyes again. "A good, long night's rest it is, then."
You moved further down the street. Karlach spotted the inn a few doors down and the group filed in through the door, just as thunder clapped overhead. You dragged Astarion into the building with you just before the rain could get worse. The clerk at the desk looked a bit annoyed to see you.
"We don't have enough rooms for all of you," they said, counting the seven of you.
Karlach pulled a face. Before she could say something accidentally indelicate, you pushed to the front of the group.
"How many rooms do you have available?"
"Just three," they said after a quick glance down at the open guestbook in front of them. "And they're not all next to each other."
You glanced back at the others.
"We could take two," Gale suggested. "Split us the old-fashioned way of ladies in one and us gents in another?"
Automatically, your gaze slid to Astarion; both of you appeared to have deflated at the idea of being separated. Wyll, of course, noticed.
"We'll take three and give the third to the lovebirds," he said, teasingly nudging his elbow into Astarion's side. "I don't think I have the heart to separate them."
"I find it agreeable," Lae'zel said with a decisive nod. She turned back to the clerk. "We'll take all three."
"It'll cost you," the clerk warned.
Astarion pulled out a money purse—no doubt stolen the last time you visited a merchant. "We can pay," he promised with that charismatic grin of his that made your stomach do flips.
He moved to the desk, sneakily grabbing your ass and squeezing as he walked by, and counted out the coins for the clerk. They counted it again and stood up only when they were satisfied.
"Come with me," they said. "I'll show you to your rooms."
~❊~
After saying goodnight to the others, escaping their teasing about keeping it down in the night for the sake of your poor neighbors, Astarion held open the door to your room to you. You got inside and glanced around; as far as rooms went, it wasn't awful. It was sparsely furnished and a tad cold, but there was a recently lit hearth and plenty of blankets on the beds. It was on the uppermost floor and you could hear the rain pounding on the roof, a brutal sound that made you agree with Wyll's earlier sentiment about staying out of the weather.
Both of you took off your soaked cloaks and hung them on the hooks next to the door to dry off. You set your stuff down on the ground, pulled the blankets off of one of the beds, and dropped them onto the other.
"Sharing a bed, are we?" Astarion asked with a little giggle, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into the back of your neck.
"Don't act like you don't want to," you said and leaned back into his chest. "I know you, Astari."
He hummed happily into your neck. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed the place where your neck and shoulder met. The nickname always made him happy, often bringing a pleasant blush to his cheeks after he'd fed.
If you had reached that point yet, this would have been the perfect time to say "I love you" and turn to kiss him over your shoulder. But you hadn't said it yet, and he hadn't said it, and you knew it wasn't time yet. You didn't know much, but you knew Astarion wasn't ready for that just yet.
You relaxed into his arms even more, practically melting against him. He planted soft, dainty kisses on your neck and shoulder. "What were you gonna tell me earlier? You had this look in your eye, like you were really excited."
Astarion's grin was audible in his tone as he whispered in your ear, "Your period's gone."
You frowned. "How do you know that and I don't?"
"Your scent's changing. I smelled it this morning, a weak scent of your menstrual blood, nearly gone. We've been traveling so you haven't been able to check recently, but once we got to the town I knew it was gone."
You shook your head. "Smell alone and you already know me better than I know myself."
Astarion scoffed. "Smell alone? Darling, I know your body better than anyone after this past week." His hand drifted down and slid between your legs, cupping you gently. Instantly, warmth flooded you and pooled in your cunt. "I know your shape...your taste...your smell..." He kissed your neck, pressing down on your clit through your clothes. You whimpered lightly. "I know exactly how to make you moan for me and I know what every moan means."
With every ounce of self-restraint you possessed, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Let's get settled in first, Astari. I need to get out of these wet clothes and I really should wash the grime and rain off me before we do anything and—" You stopped suddenly and turned in his arms, resting your hands on his biceps. "I don't have my period anymore."
Astarion blinked at you. "Why do you sound so sad? You've been in pain for the past week! Shouldn't you be glad it's gone?"
"Well, I suppose," you said, shrugging. You toyed with his collar, playing with the fabric between your fingers. "But I...I can't..." You sighed. "You can't feed from me."
His face softened. He gently took hold of your neck, brushing his thumb over the place he usually drank from. "Of course I can still feed from you... It just...takes a bigger tole on you now. Ah." He paused. "I see what you mean now."
You nodded. "It's back to being bloodless, and our fun's done."
Astarion chuckled deeply. "Oh, is that what you're sad about? No more loving little kisses between your legs from your vampire?" He wrapped his hands around your hips, squeezing them and pulling you flush to his body. "We can have a different kind of fun, my love, and it doesn't take your period to convince me to eat you out."
You heard him dimly, but didn't process anything after— "My vampire?"
Something in his face changed. A little bit of the light in his eyes seemed to fade. After a moment, he turned his face away. His body tensed in your arms. "Well, I...I thought that.... M-maybe after..."
You cupped his cheeks and turned him back to you. You kissed him softly, wanting to chase away every ounce of the self-doubt on his face. "I like the sound of that, Astarion." You brought a hand down to clasp his. "As long as I get to be yours, too."
"Darling," he murmured against your lips, seconds before kissing you again. His tongue pressed against your lips and you opened them to let him in. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he moaned softly into your mouth. His relief at your answer slowly relaxed his muscles and made his kiss incredibly tender. You returned his quiet moan with a soft, content sigh into his mouth.
When the kiss broke a few moments later, though it felt like an eternity, you immediately laid your head against Astarion's chest, hugging him tightly. He smoothed his hand over your hair, holding you close to him. He kissed the top of your head in a way that seemed almost domestic for him.
You closed your eyes, settling against his chest. The smell of him and the feel of his body against yours and his hand in your hair was enough to nearly lull you to sleep. And yet...
"I'm in wet clothes, and I'm very tired of being wet—unless it's you making me wet," you said, only half-aware of what you had said until you felt Astarion giggle into your hair.
"You're right, we should change and clean up," he said quietly, though he seemed just as reluctant as you to let go. "Then we can have our fun...and you can get all of me, like I promised you a week ago."
You hummed. "Gods, I'm looking forward to that."
"See? It's not all bad that you're not bleeding anymore," he teased, kissing your cheek.
You finally separated. Astarion dug through his pack until he found his usual shirt and pants. He closed the window's curtains and then you stripped where you stood, peeling the wet clothes off your skin. You walked over to the washroom, aware of Astarion's appreciative gaze on you, and scrubbed the dirt off your skin. You dried yourself off and Astarion joined you. It felt strange to watch your own reflection in the mirror but not see him standing next to you, even though you knew he was next to you, staring at you as he was apt to do.
You kissed his cheek and let your hand rest on his hip as you walked back toward the beds. You bent to rummage through your pack, only for his arms to circle your waist and pull you back up against his chest.
"Oh, darling, you're not going to need clothes for what I have planned," he murmured in your ear. He gently teased the shell of your ear with his teeth. You shuddered in his arms.
"Just jumping straight into it, huh?" you teased.
"I never waste time when I could be spending it with you," he breathed, letting one hand come up to cup your breast. You stumbled backward, sighing contentedly. "You like that, don't you?"
You whimpered. "More... Please darling, I..."
He chuckled and cupped both breasts in his hands. He squeezed them lightly and rested his head on your shoulder, looking down at your cleavage. "Hells, I love these tits, darling. So soft, like all your skin. So sensitive to my touch..."
Astarion began thumbing at your nipples. They perked up at his touch. He rolled them between his fingers, kissing your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. You whimpered under his touch.
"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" he asked, squeezing your tits a little harder. He massaged them in his hands, contentedly watching from his perch on your shoulder.
You nodded, leaning your head against his. After a moment, you asked, breathless but still forming words, "Can you suck on them?"
He moved around to the front of you, grinning happily. "Of course I can, darling." He gently sat you down on the bed's edge and kneeled before you, a beautiful sight. He spread your legs to sit between them and get as close to you as possible, glancing down at your exposed cunt as he did. "Gods, I can't wait to be inside you," he muttered, just seconds before he took one of your nipples in his mouth.
Astarion's mouth was an absolutely wonderful thing. You'd figured that out the first night and for the subsequent week that he was skilled with his lips and tongue, far more skilled than his kisses let on. His mouth around your breast was heavenly as he sucked on your nipple, lightly at first and then slowly adding pressure. You'd be lucky if your tits weren't bruised come morning. His other hand held your breast, kneading your flesh, rolling your nipple in his fingers. The coolness of the skin of his fingers was a relief against your hot skin.
He moaned as he suckled on you. He flicked his tongue over your nipple and then kissed the fat of your breast. You brought your hand up to his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails, and he moaned loudly. You whimpered as his sucking grew to be almost too much. He understood your sound and switched breasts, licking and kissing the one he'd just been groping.
You stared down at the beautiful man happily sucking on your tits: his eyes closed and his long lashes fluttering every so often, his pretty lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking your breast into the heat of his mouth. You carded your fingers through his hair, delighting in the way it curled around your fingers and around his ears.
A sudden idea had you moving your hand down to his ear. You touched it gently and he moaned loudly. You giggled and began lightly caressing his ear. His moans turned into whimpers as you neared the pointed tip. At last he popped off your breast and his head fell against your stomach.
"Oh, gods, darling," he whined. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, that feels... Ohhh, that feels wonderful."
His little moan brought a rush of wetness to your core. You kept playing with his hair, hoping to draw another one of those weak whimpers out of him.
Astarion shuddered into your touch. He was panting heavily and moved shakily, but he still managed to get his hand between your legs. He slid two fingers inside of you with ease.
"Ohhh, sweet girl, you're so wet for me," he breathed. "Can I—?"
"Yes, please," you gasped, knowing instantly what he wanted to do. Your fingers left his ear and he ducked his head between your legs. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit. "More."
Astarion chuckled into your pussy. "Patience, dear." He began to suckle on your clit, the pressure alone enough to make you see stars. Then his tongue flicked over you in the way he'd learned you licked and you fell back against the bed, arching into his mouth. His hands came up to grip your hips and pull you closer to him.
He moved lower and pushed his tongue into your entrance. The two of you moaned in tandem and Astarion's fingers dug into your hip, hard enough to leave bruises come morning.
The sounds of Astarion's slurping became obscene, but you couldn't find it in you to be embarrassed. You only moaned louder as his nose bumped your clit.
Without warning, Astarion slipped his fingers back inside you. You arched into his touch, gasping as his fingers curled inside you.
"Astarion!" you groaned, grinding down on his face and fingers. He chuckled into you.
"That's it, my love, you're close," he murmured, staring into you and watching your walls clench around his fingers. "Just let go for me, you're almost there."
You moaned, writhing as he went back to sucking on your clit. His fingers found the right spot and you covered your mouth with a hand to muffle the near-scream that came out of you—a sound you had no idea you could even make.
"No, no, no," Astarion chided, fixing you with a look. "Don't you muffle those sounds. I want to hear you scream for me, darling."
You whimpered. You panted as your orgasm slowly crept up on you. Your hips stuttered and lifted off the bed—Astarion took advantage and slipped his arm underneath you, dragging you back to him and pressing his mouth back to your clit. He kissed it gingerly, occasionally flicking his tongue over it in the circles you liked so much. Sometimes it amazed you how well he remembered your body and your likes, even if you'd only told him once.
"Astari," you whined, the tight ball in your core very close to snapping.
"I've got you," he whispered. "Come on, sweet girl, it's alright. Cum for me. Cum on my face, darling. I want it. I want to taste you. That's it, that's it, that's it!"
You finished with a loud cry, your back arching, Astarion moaning into your cunt and his tongue lapping quickly to catch every drop of your release. He kept curling his fingers even as your walls tightened to the point of being difficult to move them.
Astarion leaned back, grinning up at you. His face shone; it was almost weird not to see blood on his face. He looked back down at your pussy, staring eagerly, licking your cum off of his lips. "You're so wet, darling. Gods, you'll be a tight fit, but I could slide in right now if I wanted to..."
You nodded very quickly, whimpering. "Please, Astarion, please, I want you to."
He raised an elegant brow at you. "Oh, do you, now?" You nodded, whining. "Say it, darling."
Your body twisted in a way that seemed impossible as you said, a tremendous blush on your face which you were trying to hide in the bed, "I want you to fuck me, Astarion."
He grinned toothily, his fangs shining. A deep sound that neared a growl emanated from his chest. "Again. Say it again, louder."
"Fuck me, Astari," you whined, a little louder than the first time.
Something in Astarion snapped. He pulled you back onto your feet and flush to his body, kissing you fiercely. It was almost harsh, his fangs nicking your lips. You hissed and Astarion pulled back. The desire—a mix of bloodlust and arousal—was clear in his eyes, but he paused to ask, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
"I'm fine," you promised. "It's not like you haven't nicked me in more sensitive places."
"And you like it, every time," he teased, briefly kissing your forehead. He wiped away a small dot of blood on your lips with his thumb and licked it off.
You smiled at him. "What can I say, you've given me quite the biting kink."
Astarion chuckled. "Cheeky little pup," he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face. "Ready to continue?"
You nodded, unable to stop the happy grin that overtook your face at the idea of him finally taking you. A thrill ran down your spine as Astarion laid you back on the bed and crawled up to you, kissing you harshly. You were dimly aware of him pumping his cock between you.
He pulled away suddenly, glancing down his body. "Shit."
You frowned, trying to catch his eye again. "Darling? What's wrong?"
Astarion sighed. "In my...excitement, I may have forgotten a very important detail." He looked down at himself and you sat up and followed his gaze. His cock was half-hard, but not nearly enough to slide into you. You whispered a quiet "oh." In his embarrassment, Astarion refused to meet your gaze. He looked much smaller, like he'd curled up into himself. "Unimpressive, huh?"
The half-disguised anger and humiliation in his voice made your heart ache. You cupped his face, turning his face toward you. You kissed him softly. "Oh, Astarion... No, you're not. You are impressive, you're just not quite ready yet. You forget I've seen you before, fully hard after you feed."
"I think you're missing the point," he said weakly. He pulled his legs up to his chest, effectively hiding himself. "I can't fuck you like this, darling."
"You can once you've had some blood, but that's beside the point." You kissed his cheek, rubbing a hand through his hair. He leaned into your touch. "You're more than just sex, Astarion. Damn good sex, sure, but that's not all you are, no matter what anybody else—and especially your master—told you."
He turned to you, a strange look in his eyes. You took his hand, raised it to your mouth, and kissed the back of his hand. He leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder.
"This is the second time you've had to say this, something like this, to me during sex," he said with a humorless giggle, a shadow of his usual one.
"And I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it," you promised, kissing the top of his head.
For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he just blinked until the teary glaze in his eyes went away. "Thank you," he whispered, and he adjusted to kiss the spot on your neck he always drank from. He lightly scraped his teeth against your skin. "Do you want to do this?"
You hummed, leaning into his affection. "Yes, sweetheart. I want this. I want you. I want you very, very badly."
He smiled. "Lay on your side, darling. Let me lay behind you."
You did as he asked, relaxing into his hold and letting him manhandle you into the position he wanted. He pulled you flush against his body, his length pressing into you, his arm around your waist and holding you against him as if he was afraid you'd try to escape the moment he bit you. With his free hand, he brushed your hair off your neck.
"Are you ready, darling?" he whispered, dragging his teeth across the shell of your ear.
You nodded. "Mhm."
"Just relax for me," he breathed. He nuzzled into your neck and kissed the spot he was going to bite. "Right here? Your favorite spot?"
"Right there," you whispered. You put your hand over his and both of you (you weren't sure who moved first) twined your fingers together. He squeezed your hand gently before he sank his teeth into your neck.
Quiet filled the room, except for the rain on the roof, your steady breathing (only steady for now), and Astarion's sucking.
It had been just over a week since he'd fed from you this way, and the sensation was just as alien as it had been that first night you'd let him drink—two tiny shards of ice, the cold numbness spreading slowly through the surrounding area, preventing you from feeling any pain in his bite. Slowly, you acclimated to the sensation and it faded into a dull, throbbing pleasure.
He slid his free hand under your head, holding your head up and your neck steady. He gently scratched your scalp.
"Astarion," you moaned, squeezing his hand. He grunted, continuing his sucking. You focused less on the sound of it—which reminded you vaguely of sucking juice out of a dripping fruit—and more of the feeling of his body against you. "Enjoy this, sweetheart. Please, just for me."
He cuddled closer to you, humming, and you smiled as he let go of your hand to briefly squeeze your hip. Your smile widened when he took your hand in his again as quickly as he possibly could.
It didn't take long for Astarion to start getting into it. He began whimpering softly, so unrestrained you were certain he had no idea he was doing it. Slowly, his hips began rolling against you, gentle motions at first that grew more noticeable and more desperate the longer he drank.
His teeth still in your neck, Astarion began grinding his hardened length into the swell of your ass. His whimpers became moans and then animalistic grunts. He drank in time with every thrust against you and slowly you were reduced to those two sensations.
Throbbing overtook you. Your head was pounding, just slight enough for it to be ignored, and need pulsed in your cunt. You could feel your juices coating your thighs and the dull throbbing in your clit. But the rest of your body was growing pleasantly numb. Your extremities began to tingle.
Astarion's gulps slowed down and his thrusting became feral. You moaned once, very loudly, as his cock slid briefly between your legs and rubbed against your pussy. Your moan spurred him on and he adjusted to keep grinding himself on your thigh.
A few more swallows of blood was all it took for the edges of your vision to get blurry. Your eyes fluttered shut; you didn't have the strength to open them again. You could no longer feel your fingers and you were only partially aware of your hand slipping out of his. But Astarion was incredibly aware of it; he stopped drinking and twisted around you to lay in front of you to check on you.
Your head dropped to the mattress without Astarion's hand holding you up. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook you and you groaned quietly.
"Hey, hey, hey, look at me," he said, cupping your cheek. You opened your eyes. "There's my girl. How are you doing? Feel okay? Did I take too much?"
"Slow down on the questions," you said, "and hold me."
He chuckled and scooted closer, pulling you into his arms. He kissed the top of your head. "But are you okay?"
You nodded. "Give me a minute and I'll be right as rain."
He giggled. "Right as rain..."
You rolled your eyes. "What can I say, the storm's got me thinking." You tucked yourself into his arms, your lips against his chest. You kissed his skin softly. He hummed happily and you continued, nipping at his skin. Now that he'd fed, bruises started to form under your lips.
"I'm okay now," you said after a few moments. The throbbing in your head had eased up and you no longer felt like you were about to pass out.
"Not dizzy anymore?" he asked.
You shook your head. "I'm alright."
He smiled at you; gods, that smile was gorgeous. "Well, now, dear. Let me return the favor..."
You blinked at him. "Favor—? Oh!"
Astarion's mouth was back on your breasts, this time leaving hickeys all over your skin—and tiny, bloody pinpricks from his fangs—that matched the bruises you'd left on him. You whined, gripping his hair tightly.
He grinned against your skin. "Oh, darling—I know. I know you want me. Your body and I have kept you waiting long enough, haven't we?"
You put your hand on his chest. "Wait, darling. Let me..." You slid down his body and gripped his cock in your hand. He groaned loudly, bucking his hips into your hand.
"Oh, darling, that feels..." He moaned. "Gods."
"It's about to get better, if you'd like?" you asked. You kissed his thigh. "Do you want me to?"
Something in his face changed, his features softening. You fancied that you could see some of his walls come down in his eyes, but you chalked it up to your hopeful imagination. But then he was nodding and whispering, "Yes."
You kissed around his base, watching him shudder every time your lips touched his skin. You locked eyes with him and pressed your lips to his base. He whined, high and needy, throwing his head back. You smiled; you'd never heard him make that sound before, but I wanted to hear it again.
You moved up to kiss his tip. A groan came from the back of his throat. You gave his head a small lick and watched his entire body shudder with pleasure.
"Ready?" you asked him, placing another kiss to his length.
"Yes," he breathed, looking down at you. "Yes."
You licked the underside of his cock, from base to head, then took his head in your mouth and sucked lightly. He whined the entire time, growing steadily louder until he was moaning. You took him deeper and he threw his head back again, swallowing harshly. Gods, he's so pretty when he's losing control... You reached up and took his hand, squeezing gently.
He bucked his hips into your mouth. You made a soft sound of slight complaint, surprised by the motion. "S-sorry," he breathed, his chest heaving. His voice was tight, the muscles of his abdomen tight. "You just... Gods, you're good at this. You are...amazing."
You squeezed his hand until he looked down at you, your question was in your eyes: are you alright?
"Keep going," he urged. "I'm— I'm more than alright, darling."
You sank down further until he hit the back of your throat. You moaned to feel him twitch in your mouth; you weren't expecting the breathy gasp that came from him. You did it again and his hand left yours to thread through your hair, putting the slightest amount of pressure on you.
"Is this okay?" he asked shakily, struggling to get the words out through his heavy breaths.
You winked at him and he groaned, the sound feral. He held onto your hair for dear life and you kept sucking, licking the underside of his cock every chance you could. Occasionally, he bucked his hips desperately, alternating between gasping for breath and whimpering your name between moans that verged on sobs.
Astarion jerked his hips, his cock kicking up. You took advantage to swirl your tongue around his tip, tasing his pre-cum. He leaned up on his forearms and you saw the tears on his waterline. Concerned flooded through you. His face was relaxed into an expression of pure ecstasy, but...
You pulled off of him. "Astarion? Are you okay, sweetheart?"
His chest heaved, glistening with sweat, while he gasped for breath. "I— I'm okay. You're wonderful, darling, absolutely..." He beckoned you up to him with two fingers, that dominant look back in his eye. You did as he ordered without question. "Come here. As much as I love this, I need to fuck you."
You whined. "Astari, please. Please. Please, I want you."
"Look at you, begging for me," he cooed, his hand sliding between your legs. He rubbed your clit and you arched into his touch, moaning wantonly. "There she is. That's it, darling, just feel good for me."
You leaned into his chest. "Astarion! I need you. I need you to fuck me, please, gods."
Astarion chuckled and pulled his hand away from you. He gently laid you on your back and crawled over you. He kissed you deeply before sitting back and lining himself up with your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat. Anticipation and excitement mixed in your stomach.
Astarion placed the head of his cock against you and then looked up at you. His face was fond as he met your gaze. "Are you ready for me, darling?"
"Yes," you breathed. "I— Oh, gods, yes!"
"Tell me if it hurts," he whispered. He kissed your forehead briefly.
You watched him move, slowly bucking his hips forward to push his cock inside of you. His eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. You forced yourself to remember to breathe as he bottomed out, your walls stretching to accommodate him; he finally let out a deep groan from the back of his throat.
"Darling," he moaned, leaning down to you. You reached up, putting your hand in his hair, and brought his head down to you. Once again, you weren't sure who moved first, but suddenly his lips were on yours.
It was a gentle kiss that was fitting for his slow, shallow thrusts. The two of you panted into each other. He put his forehead against yours, glancing down and watching him slide in and out of you, whispering in Elvish at the sight.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "Astarion... Oh, gods..."
"You feel so good," he groaned. "Darling, I— Ohhh, sweet girl." He bent down to lick the small blood spots off your breasts. He moaned sweetly. "You taste even better when I'm inside you, my love. You taste sweet—like a delectable wine."
You whimpered. "I don't mean to deprive you of my blood, dear, but please please kiss me."
He chuckled and kissed his way up your neck, stopping briefly to lick your already-closing puncture wounds, before he kissed your lips. His mouth tasted vaguely of iron.
Your walls tightened around him. He was rubbing inside of you in just the right ways, hitting pleasure spots that his fingers had already made tender. His thrusts were still gentle, not enough to make you see stars but enough to make your entire body relax and give in to the pleasure.
"You're wonderful, darling," he murmured. He reached up to roll your nipple in his fingers. "You feel so perfect around me. So tight...so wet...so eager... Gods, darling, yes, just clench around me like that."
You threw your head back and he immediately descended on it, kissing and licking and nipping at your skin. You could feel the bruises that you would find in the morning.
"Faster," you told him. "I can take more than this, Astari."
He grinned and you were moaning seconds later as he sped up, his hips snapping into you.
"Can you take it harder? Deeper?" he asked. "You have no idea how hard it is not to ravish you, darling."
You cupped his chin and brought him back up to your face. You kissed him hard, more tongues and teeth than anything. You met his gaze and whispered, "Then ravish me."
Astarion pushed his lips back to yours, grunting animalistically, and slammed his cock into you. You cried out, clinging to him desperately as he fucked you relentlessly, his hips snapping against yours, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every thrust. The head of his cock kissed your cervix every time, making your entire body shudder. You began meeting his thrusts and he chuckled, one hand gripping your hip to help keep you up.
You threw your legs around his hips and both of you groaned at the new angle. Astarion muttered to himself in Elvish, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You kissed him, bringing him back to you. He smiled, kissing your forehead.
"Aren't you gorgeous?" he whispered to you, staring deep into your eyes. There was an alertness there that you hadn't noticed the first time he'd fucked you like this, out in the woods that night.
You reached up to cup his cheek. "You're quite handsome like this, Astarion," you murmured. "You always are."
He smiled softly at you and turned to kiss your palm, his hips stuttering for a moment. He grunted and pushed deeper into you, making you cry out again. He glanced down your bodies and watched the two of you thrust into each other.
"Gods, that's a pretty view," he murmured, his voice breathy. "Your slick shining on my dick...and, oh, look at that... The outline of my cock in your tummy. Gods, that's hot." He placed his hand on your lower abdomen where the bulge was and he pressed down. You whined, clenching your teeth and trying not to scream. He, of course, noticed. "Oh, that feels good, does it?"
You whimpered out a weak, "Yes!" He grinned and began pressing down on every stroke into you.
You gripped his shoulder, your nails digging in; you knew there would be scratches on his back and shoulders come morning and you were careful to avoid his scar, knowing just how painful that would be if scratched.
He kept losing his rhythm every so often and you knew he was getting close; thankfully, so were you.
"I'm close," you whispered. "I'm so close, darling."
On the next thrust in, he adjusted the hand pushing down on your abdomen so that his thumb could circle around your clit. "Does this help?"
You whined, nodding frantically. "Oh, Astari— Don't stop, please don't stop, I—" Your words faded into moans. He giggled.
"Don't worry, darling, I don't intend on stopping until you've finished around my cock," he whispered in your ear. Your entire body shuddered.
Astarion's thrusts grew a bit sloppier, but his thumb on your clit remained dedicated to making you cum. You were half-convinced the way he spoke as he gazed down at you adoringly would be enough even without the cock thrusting into you or the thumb stimulating you.
"Gods, look at you," he murmured. "Look at that body, responding to me so eagerly! Those beautiful breasts, perky nipples, all covered in my bite marks... That lovely neck, marked and still just barely bleeding..." He bent to lick the thin trail of blood. "These legs, wrapped around my waist, and that pussy just sucking me in." He brushed your hair out of your eyes. "And I could never forget this darling face, those beautiful eyes just staring up at me like I hung the moon and stars..." He pressed his forehead to yours. Softly, he said, "Come on, darling, cum for me. Cum on my cock. Let me feel you clench around me and lose yourself in me."
The thread inside you snapped. You arched off the bed and into his body. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you to him, whispering words of encouragement. You screamed as you came, clenching so hard around him it was a miracle he kept fucking you through it. He pulled his hand off your clit as soon as the feeling became too much, reading your body with ease.
"That's it," he whispered to you. "That's my girl. Easy, darling, breathe. You did so well. Do you mind if I—" He groaned, hips faltering for a moment. "Do you mind if I cum inside you?"
You whined. "Oh, gods, yes, please do! Cum inside me, Astarion, cum inside me, I want it!"
He moaned happily, kissing your neck fervently. He began rambling. "Hells, darling, you spoil me. Feeding me with your bleeding cunt for a week? Taking my cum the moment it's over? You needy, heavenly little thing." He kissed his way up to your jaw. You put your fingers in his hair. "Oh, you're so wet now, sweet girl. You've soaked me. You look so pretty around me. Oh, gods, you're so much tighter now— I'm not going to last much longer, dear. You're good, you're too good. My love, oh my love!" He lost his rhythm entirely, fucking you only with the need to cum. "I love this. I love every bit of this. I love—"
He cut himself off. He cried out, burying his face in your neck and his cock in your cunt. Warmth flooded you as he spilled himself deep inside you. His hips stuttered and flexed a few more times, his cock twitching inside you, before he finally let out a long breath and collapsed on top of you. Immediately, your arms wrapped around him and you held him tight to your chest.
As the two of you lay panting together, your mind was working on overdrive. He hadn't said it, but you'd heard what he wanted to say: I love you. The very same words you were dying to say.
At last, Astarion lifted his head. "Are you alright?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
You combed your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered. "Not one bit, darling. I'm perfectly fine." You kissed his nose and he giggled. You stared at him, your beautiful boy, for a moment, enjoying the feelign of his body actually being warm against yours for once, before you asked, "What about you? Are you feeling alright? Good, even?"
Astarion giggled. "Don't sell yourself short, my love, you're absolutely wonderful. I feel amazing. Content. Cared for. Loved." With every word, his voice got smaller, quieter. He seemed to retract into himself. You frowned.
"Where'd you go? Come back to me," you whispered.
He looked back up at you and the tears were back in his eyes, but this time you doubted they were tears of pleasure. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to..." He sighed. "I didn't mean to disappear on you. It's just...I'm used to that. I'm used to disappearing during sex, after sex... But I didn't do that this time. It was...different with you. It was nice. You've cared for me like no one else ever has. You...you paid attention to what I wanted, how I felt, what I liked. You weren't just using me for your own pleasure. I... It was like...you cared about me. I don't even know what to say! But, ah, you made me feel good, in a lot of ways. So... Thank you, darling."
You cupped his face and kissed him softly. "Of course I care about you, Astarion, I— I...love you."
He tensed up in your arms. A flash of panic passed through his eyes. You shook your head quickly.
"You don't have to say it back," you said hurriedly. "Not until you're ready. But I want you to know exactly how I feel about you. And...I love you."
He smiled and relaxed, melting into your embrace. "Thank you, my love. I...I'm not ready, not quite yet, but...thank you for respecting that. Here—let me cuddle you, I know how much you like that."
The two of you adjusted so that you could lay on your sides. You curled up in his arms and nestled your head into his neck. He carded his fingers through your hair, a gentle movement that was well on its way to lulling you to sleep. You reluctantly pulled yourself away, and only because you had adjusted and suddenly felt the cooling, sticky liquid between your thighs.
"We should get cleaned up," you murmured.
Astarion hummed. "Oh, yes, let me—" He reached for his shirt on the floor and brought it up to himself.
"No, no," you said. "Let me do it."
You took a towel and dampened it in the bowl of lukewarm water on the nightstand—probably there for this exact purpose. You squeezed the excess water out and gently wiped your mixed, drying releases from Astarion's thighs, abdomen, and cock. He sighed softly, relaxing as you cleaned him off.
"No one's ever done this for you before, have they?" you asked. He shook his head. You kissed him softly. "Get used to it, darling, because I intend to do this for you every time."
He grinned, a pleasant blush on his cheeks. "I could get used to this." He took the towel away from you. "Here, let me do it for you."
You laid back and let him slid between your legs. He groaned softly. "Oh, my sweet girl, you look so delicious with my cum dripping out of you."
You blushed fiercely, groaning. "Stop talking like that, or I'm going to demand we go again."
He perked up. "I'm up for a second round—if you can handle it, that is," he added with a cheeky grin.
You considered it for a moment while he wiped your thighs and entrance clean. "Give me an hour and maybe we can."
Astarion smiled and placed a dainty kiss just above your clit. "That's my girl." He laid back down beside you and pulled you into his arms. "Get some rest now, darling, you need it after today."
You wrapped your arms around him and rested your cheek against his chest. "Thank you, Astarion. For everything."
He hummed and kissed the top of your head, stroking your hair. "You're welcome, my love."
~❊~
You were ready to leave the next morning, and you and Astarion met the others in front of the clerk's desk on the first floor of the inn. Astarion handed back the key while you limped over to the group.
Unsurprisingly, Astarion had left you with quite the limp, even more severe than the first time he'd eaten you out at camp. Karlach didn't even try to contain her laughter at the sight of you.
"So you did fuck her last night!" she said to Astarion as he joined you. You blushed heavily. "We had no idea, couldn't hear a thing!"
Astarion raised an eyebrow, then looked at you with a grin. "They couldn't hear us, even with all the noise you made? We're getting a room at an inn every chance we can get from now on!"
"Not so fast," Gale said quickly, "they might not have heard you, but Wyll and I did!"
You squeaked. "You did?"
Wyll nodded, somewhat amused and somewhat apologetic. "You made noises I didn't think were possible. Or meant pleasure."
You turned immediately to Astarion, who was grinning like a cat, and buried your face in his chest. "Hide me."
"It's alright, darling," he whispered to you. "Gale and Wyll were across the hall from us. Next time, we'll just get a room as far away from the others as possible and I'll make you scream into the wee hours of the morning."
You blushed very brightly and the others groaned.
"Don't break her," Shadowheart chided. "Is your wound—"
"It's fine!" both you and Astarion said before she could continue.
"She's all healed up, no more scarring," Astarion promised. "Believe me, I wouldn't have gone as hard as I did if I thought she would get hurt by it."
"Okay, that's enough!" Gale said quickly. "Let's leave, please, and keep going. We've got important business to attend to!"
As you left the inn, Astarion took your hand and kissed the top of your head. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you? That limp's quite noticeable, dear."
"I'm fine," you promised. "You were quite good last night."
"Good. I'd be inconsolable if I had hurt you," he said. He brush your hair behind you ear. "I mean that, you know."
You leaned into his side and kissed his cheek. "I know, darling. And thank you. Now, come on, help me walk. It will be your fault if I fall."
He snorted. "Because I have you a good orgasm? No, wait, how many did it end up being last night? Two the first time...then another three?"
You rolled your eyes. "Oh, stop bragging! Come on, Gale's right: we've got work to do."
Astarion kissed you one last time, then pulled you against his side and followed the others out of the village.
☞ ❊ ☜
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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin
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Part One
Baker Steve and Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU
Part two
"Steve! You have no idea!" Eddie's laughing, and that always makes Steve laugh, too. He's clearly a little tipsy. "Everyone went mad for the cake! It's was just, gone! Here, I'll send you some pictures!"
"I know what it looked like Eds," but Steve's grinning, knowing he's talking to empty air, can hear Eddie very vaguely mumbling to himself as he looks through his camera roll. Next to Steve' ear, his phone vibrates several times.
"Anyway, Stevie, I was thinking," Eddie's back now, still clearly tipsy but sounding uncharacteristically sheepish, "it's Christmas kind of soon right? Going to need a cake or two there. New year. Easter. Birthdays and bar mitzvahs and...and... independence day...so I was thinking I should get my orders in now, you know? Avoid disappointment."
"Eddie," Steve starts, finds himself turning shy himself, "you don't have to have a cake on order just to talk to me."
"I, ah, don't?"
"No, I mean, pretty sure we're friends, right?"
"Friends," Eddie starts slowly, "there's, like, lots of different kinds of friends."
"Sure, sure," Steve agrees easily, butterflies running rampant in his stomach, "there's even, kind of, more than friends, really."
"That sounds really really great-"
"Eddie!" There's a cacophony in the background, people shouting, "man, you're missing your own party-"
The line goes dead, and Steve's left standing in the dim light of the evening, just staring at tomorrow's cake order where it's cooling on the racks. A minute later, his phone buzzes in his hand, "so sorry baby, talk tomorrow."
Steve smiles at his phone. He had gone a little quiet after finding out who Eddie really is. It had kind of surprised him. But then Eddie had text him, "did I do something? 😞" and Steve realised Eddie's entitled to his privacy, the same as anyone.
"Hey Stevie, how's your day?"
Steve has Eddie on speaker phone as he mixes batter, "pretty good so far, you? You hungover?"
"No, no, didn't get that wasted, too old for that nonsense now, you know?"
Steve laughs, "aren't you like, 25?"
"I mean, maybe. Definitely old enough to, like, think about settling down, you know?"
Steve's breath catches in his throat, excitement and nerves after their interrupted conversation last night, "yeah, you, thinking about that? With, uhm, someone?"
"Yeah, I am, it's just..." Steve's heart sinks in his chest," my job, you know, I travel a lot, and that would be a sacrifice for anyone, and I couldn't ask someone to live with that, you know?"
"Well...what if it wasn't? What if they just...went with you?"
"What if...this person...had a job they loved? Their own business they worked hard for?"
"Yeah," Steve agrees slowly, "but what if...well, take me for example. I love to bake, but I don't love my business. That's just a means to an end, you know? I don't always love the orders, I'd choose to make something else if I was doing it for fun. So if it were me, i'd give it up in a heartbeat as long as I can keep baking."
"Yeah? You mean it?"
"Yeah. Yeah Eddie, I mean it."
"I, I mean, sure. Good. Thanks. I mean, not thanks, I mean, good, that's great."
Steve grins at Eddie's ramblings.
"I'll be away though, soon, for a couple of months, like four months, so, maybe, we could keep talking and when, I mean, if you want, what I get back..."
"I'd like that." Steve fist pumps, silently celebrating. "You never actually told me what you do for work?". Steve's teasing him, but Eddie doesn't know that Steve knows so, Steve grins to himself and keeps his voice even.
"I ah, music?"
"Yeah, you have mentioned that before, but what about it?" Steve knows he's being a dick, he just can't help it though.
"I ah, travel, with the band," Eddie starts slowly, and that is technically not a lie, Steve thinks, "and I kind of, look after some of the instruments and...have a lot to do with the sound checks? Like I'm definitely always there, for every sound check, like, I have to be."
All of that is probably true, Steve thinks, and god bless Eddie for not wanting to actually lie to Steve.
"Oh right, and what's the band called?"
"Oh, they're like, heavy metal, you've definitely never heard of them."
After they get off the call, Steve laughs all afternoon.
#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#baking#baker steve Harrington#rock star eddie munson
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