#and the reason they have to go to hell and kill god is equally fucked up too I just couldn’t figure out a way to succinctly summarize it
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I love Once Upon a Time because in season 4 they meet Anna and Elsa from Frozen and have to fight Ursula and Cruella De Vil and in season 5 they bring a guy back from hell and kill a god and these two plotlines are treated with an equal amount of dramatic tension and narrative weight
#ouat#once upon a time#chelsea.txt#ouat season 4#ouat season 5#emma swan#and the reason they have to go to hell and kill god is equally fucked up too I just couldn’t figure out a way to succinctly summarize it#without sounding insane
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I think Danny Phantom fandom is absolutely sleeping on the sheer dumb bulshittery Danny, Sam and Tucker generate on the regular and it’s a fucking shame. Like, the three of them have exactly one (1) single braincell between them, and the only one to use it at least semi-regularly is Jazz. You literally can’t leave them for five minutes without them stumbling into some new bullshit every single time. Granted, a lot of times bullshit finds them first instead of the other way around, but by god will they make the situation worse. They run into the situations with the same reckless abandon the cockchafers fly into any solid obstacle in their way, and you’d think that at least one of them will be the voice of reason, and you’d be dead wrong.
Danny? He thought pranking a murder happy millionaire with a vindictive streak the size of Grand Canyon was a great idea. And then, like a moron, he decided to use equally murder happy government agency with a huge prejudice against ghosts and a vendetta against him, personally. Absolutely nothing that could go wrong with that, obviously!
(spoiler alert, things did go very wrong very fast)
Tucker? A valid choice at the first glance, except he is always down to commit crimes for either his friends or just for funsies. Remember that time he ran an obviously illegal babysitting scam business? Or that time when he brainwashed and then dimensionally displaced the whole school into Ancient Egypt setting? Another notable instances of Tucker being a menace, in no particular order: organised o pro-meat protest in a few hours, tried to shoot a ghost with his phone as a projectile (and succeeded), sold Sam out to a ghost out of sheer pettiness, gave Skulker an alarm-induced ptsd, almost killed Danny that one time (don’t worry, Danny was fine) and in general committed to being bullshit-enabling gremlin.
Now Sam would seem the most grounded and reasonable out of three of them, but it is what SHE wants you to believe. She is just as, if not more, unhinged as the boys, she just hides it better. Remember that time she trashed the castle and antagonised a few dozen of armed guards, while having no back up, no weapons, no allies and while being in some shithole in the Ghost Zone? And then basically told a tyrannical asshole with op dragon powers “fuck you and your entire kingdom” in the face? And then rode another dragon who put said asshole through a wall? Good times.
They all seem like perfectly reasonable people at the first glance, and then Tucker and Danny would dare each other to lick that weird glowing green rock, and Sam would roll her eyes and groan about how stupid boys are, and then Tucker would dare her to lick that glowing rock too, and Danny will say, “Come on, Tuck, it’s okay if she’s too afraid to do it-”, and yes, Sam and her mother have many disagreements on a lot of things, but both her mother AND Granny did not raise a fucking bitch, move over, Tucker, or so help her the spirit of Pandora-
They all end up absolutely miserable in ecto-containment units sick as hell with ecto-flu and on all questions answer that no, they don’t know how this happened, maybe it was ghost attack last week, they did get blasted by that green goo, after all, but really, they have absolutely no idea, honest. Jazz suspects something, but she also has no proof and therefore can’t prove anything. In the end, it was one of the worst weeks in their life and they all ended up swearing to not do it ever again.
(they do end up doing it again two months later)
#phandom is SLEEPING on the sheer comedic potential of those three committing crimes together I swear to god!!!!#like I do understand that this fandom loves it’s angst and all#and sam danny & tucker in the same scene together will more often than not end up in stand up comedy instead of angst#but god#GOD DO I WISH THERE WAS MORE OF THOSE THREE BEING DUMBASSES TOGETHER#like imagine them doing idk a heist together or smth#the panic the destruction the potential for reality defying bullshit#the ABSOLUTELY committed eco-terrorism off screen I know I was there#Sam was there bcs of obvious reasons and ended up organising an uprising#tucker was there bcs he’s always ready to commit crimes and stick it to the government#danny was there as moral support only and ended up on wanted lists of at least 7 countries#sam manson#tucker foley#danny fenton#danny phantom
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I swear to god, if I see one more person say Levi wanted to kill Zeke for "revenge" and blubber on about how revenge "blinded" him and that's why he got caught in the thunderspear explosion, I think I'll throw myself off a cliff.
It had nothing to do with revenge, or a desire for self-satisfaction. It was an entirely selfless pursuit, undertaken in the memory and in honor of his fallen comrades, the ones who gave their lives that day in Shinganshina. I've been over this so many times, I'm not going to go over it again in detail here. But anyone who doesn't yet understand that is, I'm sorry, fundamentally flawed in their understanding of Levi's character. This isn't an interpretation. Levi explicitly states that the reason he wants to kill Zeke is to prove his comrades deaths had meaning. He says it. Not only is the idea that Levi wanted Zeke dead for revenge and that he was "blinded" by that desire fundamentally flawed in its understanding of Levi's character, it also completely lacks logic. If Levi was really "blinded" by a quest for revenge, he would have just killed Zeke at the first opportunity he had, regardless of the consequences. He would have killed him in Shinganshina. He would have killed him in Liberio. He would have killed him in the forest. And yet, he didn't, specifically because he wasn't blinded by his need to kill Zeke at all. He had a calm and rational mind about it the entire time, one he continued to exercise to the very end.
And this idea that Levi getting caught in the thunderspear explosion was some sort of "comeuppance" for his violence or his blind desire for Zeke's blood is equally illogical and absurd, and again, completely misunderstands the source of Levi's rage in that moment. Anyone who claims so is engaging in some serious, holier than thou moralizing. Levi torturing Zeke in the cart on the way back to the Capital had nothing to do with his vow to kill him. Levi was grieving, and in a massive amount of emotional distress, because Zeke had just forced him to kill nearly 30 of his own comrades. Men and women Levi had, as with all his comrades, sworn to protect and people for whom he was directly responsible. People that posit this idea that Levi somehow deserved to "pay" for his anger in this moment are essentially claiming that it's always "wrong" to hate or be angry at someone when they've brutally wronged you. That we're always supposed to be "the bigger person" and "forgive" them and "turn the other cheek" and all that moralistic bullshit, and if you don't, then you deserve every bad thing that comes your way. Get the fuck out of here. Levi had EVERY right to be as angry as he was in that moment, and I'm sorry, but anyone who denies him that right is an asshole, and a hypocrite, because there's no such thing as anyone who wouldn't have been viciously, violently angry at someone who had just forced you into slaughtering your own friends and colleagues. Taken especially within the context of who Levi is, with the understanding of how driven he is by the need to protect life and help people, with how much value he places on people's lives, it puts into perspective just exactly how cruel it was what Zeke did to him. How exactly was Levi meant to react? Are we meant to judge him for being as angry as he was? For resorting to violence? Is anyone really going to sit here with a straight face and claim that they wouldn't have felt and done exactly the same in his shoes? I don't buy that for a minute. Most people wouldn't have even possessed Levi's level of restraint. They would have simply killed Zeke, and to hell with the consequences.
Further, Levi's very words to Hange about not understanding how prepared Zeke was to die show that he wasn't purely fueled by anger either, in this moment. It was a rational choice on his part to hook Zeke up to that thunderspear, insurance against his attempted escape, because he believed Zeke wasn't prepared to die, something I've talked about before, here: https://www.tumblr.com/cosmicjoke/746918499422781440/one-thing-i-dont-think-people-really-consider?source=share
Further still, if Isayama had intended for Levi’s desire to kill Zeke to be interpreted as revenge, and all the negative connotations of that, he would have had Levi realize the foolishness of his actions immediately after nearly being blown to Kingdom Come, and shown him remorseful and regretful in that moment over wanting Zeke dead, since, supposedly, him nearly dying was meant to be his lesson and punishment in the foolhardiness of revenge’s pursuit, according to these people. Yet Levi showed no such remorse or regret for wanting Zeke dead, only for him not understanding Zeke’s willingness to die. And Isayama himself wouldn’t have spoken about one of the reasons he didn’t kill Levi being how Levi’s journey wouldn’t be complete without him fulfilling his vow. Levi’s desire to kill Zeke was never framed in a negative light for a reason.
This total misinterpretation of Levi's motives with regard to Zeke is the source of so many of the negative and hateful views about his character that we see floating around, and yet it's continually perpetuated by people, over and over again, and I'm sick of it.
Levi never wanted revenge. He only ever wanted to ensure his comrades didn't die for nothing. It was a noble goal. Revenge isn't noble. But wanting to honor your friends and comrades memories and lives is. Levi never deserved to be punished for that, and honestly, fuck you to anyone who says he did. It takes a particular and acute lack of self-awareness and arrogance for anyone to make such a sickening and cruel claim.
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(Morph by viralsmorphs, who is as far as I can tell is completely off the internet, unfortunately.)
I made my way down the old wooden stairs, being careful to not make noise. I kept one hand on the rail, my eyes failing to adjust to the darkness in the basement. Even still, I could feel that he was there. There was just something in the air that made my hair stand on end.
I fumbled with the basement wall until I found the light switch and flipped it. Instantly the basement was lit up, revealing concrete walls with random assortments of wood, guns and other things my parents didn't want their friends knowing about. Directly opposite the staircase was him, chained to the wall in all of his muscled glory.
His face looked almost the same as it did when he left all those years ago, with the exception of being a little more masculine and a new stubbly beard. It was his body that had the most change, as he had gained am incredible amount of muscle. His arms and legs bulged with power, and as he lifted an arm up to his eyes I could see the bicep bulge, far bigger than any other arm I had ever seen. His pecs were two giant, hairy pillows. He slowly bounced them as I stared at his physique, watching the muscle flex and swell. It was only then that I looked back up at his face. He was smiling, brandishing some sharp canines.
"You came down here all by yourself? Defenseless? Brave little thing." He said, his voice dripping with testosterone. It had to be a few octave deeper then the last time I had spoken to him.
"I brought a gun." I snapped.
"And no silver bullets. That thing's useless on me." He chuckled.
I sat down on the floor by the staircase, bringing my knees to my chest. I had thrown down a pair of shorts a few hours ago, when my parents confirmed that he wasn't dead and chained him up. He was stretching them to the limit.
"Is there a reason you came down here alone? or is it just to stare? Honestly, I don't mind either way." He flexed one of his arms, the bicep swelling into a ball of hard steel, almost as big as my head.
I felt my dick start to harden as I kept watching him. God he looked so perfect, but I had other things to do other than watch. He had disappeared from my life years ago, and now he was here again, transformed into a werewolf of all things. I had to know.
"What does it feel like?" I asked.
He stopped flexing as he just stared at me in surprise, his cocky facade faltering.
"I've known you for so long, I can trust you to tell me the truth, right?" I added.
"Of course. When I got bitten first, it hurt like hell, but after..." he let out a low growl, "It felt fucking perfect. My senses were so sharp, they felt superhuman. The moon's power, the strength, it-- I could feel it pulsing through my body, making me bigger, and BIGGER--"
He moaned as he felt up his own body, clearly getting worked up from his own description as his cock threatened to tear through the shorts that were already bursting at the seams with muscle. I saw his fingernails lengthen and darken until they were claws on the end of his fingers, and while it was slight, I could tell that he was getting bigger.
"The best part was seeing how much bigger I was compared to other people. Normal humans just can't compare anymore, and every time I transform back I get bigger. Seeing all of those worthless fuckers in town panic after seeing me again almost made it worth all of the shit they put me through."
"Is that why you came back?" I asked
He shook his head and smiled, as if why he was here was already obvious.
"I came back for you. You've spent your whole life under the thumb of your parents, afraid of what they'd do to you if you left. I know they want you to keep up the hunting tradition, to "protect the righteous", but you don't have to anymore. I can protect you."
I thought back to the fight just hours ago. He took a beating from my parents, and gave it back in equal measure. I was almost sure he was going to kill my father, until my father slammed him in the back of the head with a silver-plated sledgehammer. It took me hours of begging to keep him alive, but now he looked fully healed, even while being wrapped in silver chains. Chains I didn't have the key for.
"I can't get you out of that," I said, pointing to his chains "Dad's got the key right on his nightstand, and if I got caught he'd--"
He didn't even wait for me to finish, as he strained against the chains with all of his might. the chains pulled taut, but with a deep roar firm him, he snapped those chains, freeing himself.
I looked on in awe. That much silver would have left any other werewolf almost catatonic, but he was able to rip it off of himself easily.
"I'm stronger than I look."
He stared down at me as I stood up my hands shaking. He towered over me, being well over 6 feet tall. Even with his height, His body was thick with muscle, to the point of almost impeding his movement. For him to be that tall and that muscled, he truly had to be a monstrous man.
In seconds after I got up, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. He pressed my head deep into his pecs, fully engulfing me in muscle. I felt the beat of his heart thump in his chest.
"I've dreamt about this moment for years, I just knew I had to be strong enough. Please, run away with me. I left my truck on the other side of town, and I have a place where we could live together. IF you wanted to, I mean, I know one of the other guys in the pack has a place you could have all to yourself. I can't wait for you to meet them, I'vetalkedaboutyousomuchand--"
He was cut off by the sound of me laughing, elated that my life was about to change. He looked down at me, tears in his eyes, waiting for my answer. I saw the clock on the wall change to 3:00 AM, the witching hour. We had plenty of time before my parents woke up.
"Lets get out of here." I said, and before sunrise we were gone.
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𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤
*Gif not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Adam Ruzek x Female!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: one of your worst nightmares becomes reality when you find yourself stuck on a ferris wheel. And what makes everything worse, with the person you hate most… Or at least that's what you thought.
• Warnings: maybe few curse words
• Word count: 3,7K.
• A/N: hope you enjoy it! Comment, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated, I love you all <3
A thousand thoughts ran through your brain but all of them ended the same way.
How the hell did I end up in this situation?
Fate must’ve played some tricks, you must’ve committed some crime in your past life because there must’ve been a serious reason why you had found yourself stuck on a damn Ferris wheel. Suspended in the air.
There had to be a reason, because what were the odds that the Ferris wheel would stuck in mid-air just when it was your turn to take a ride.
And there had to be an equally precise reason why, among so many people, it was Adam Ruzek you were stuck with.
God probably hated you, there was no other explanation, he wanted to take revenge for some wrong things you had done and make atonement for your sins.
Why the fuck did you let yourself be convinced to get in that damned killing machine? Whose brilliant idea was it? And why with Adam among everyone?
That evening you had decided to go to a fair with your friends and some of your colleagues including Adam, Jay, Vanessa, Kim and Hailey, a good opportunity to spend time together without there being any robbery or murder to solve.
The atmosphere was light, the fair was overflowing with people who couldn't wait to try all the attractions there. Somehow you managed to avoid everything that required going ‘up’ but couldn’t escape the damn Ferris wheel.
The queue was very long and you had tried several times to escape but the words of your friends convinced you to at least make an attempt since it was quiet and the ride wouldn't last more than five minutes.
The entire Ferris wheel consisted of five small cabins that could accommodate a maximum of two people at a time and you couldn’t even ask to any of them, that the pairs had already been formed and you and Adam found yourselves exchanging annoyed glances, both being the only ones left.
You didn't ignore the giggles and looks your friends sent to both of you, making you realize they had deliberately done it to let you and Adam be alone.
Your relationship with him was, well… Weird, to say at least.
The bickering between you two was the order of the day, there was nothing you said that he didn't laugh at, making fun of you at every chance he got. That man could zap every single nerve in your body and drive you crazy with just one word and you hated him for that.
And the fact you were tremendously attracted to him despite this didn't work in your favor.
He was equally attracted to you, which is why one night – dead drunk – you ended up in his bed and woke up the next day with feelings of guilt and shame and pretended you didn't even know each other. This however didn’t last long as he wasted no time in returning to bother you and argue, making your life at work a living hell.
Adam drove you crazy, he always managed to confuse you, especially when he went from wanting to argue to making sexual jokes and flirting with you and then go back to arguing in a small amount of time.
You hated him, you hated how he made you feel and you hated yourself even more because despite this you couldn't help but be deeply attracted to him, to the point that everyone – both colleagues and your friends – did nothing but tease you and do everything to get you and Adam together, claiming to stop acting stupid because you both clearly wanted each other.
And that's how you ended up stuck on a damn Ferris wheel with the person you most wanted to be away from, about to have a panic attack.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered to yourself when everything stopped suddenly. You looked around, realizing with horror you were several meters above the ground, suspended in mid-air in a cabin that continued to oscillate with every slightest gust of wind.
You pressed your back against the seat, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths, feeling the panic starting to build up inside you.
Saying you were absolutely terrified of heights was an understatement.
Adam, however, remained impassive, only huffing at the annoyance of having to be stuck there and rolled his eyes when he noticed your eyes were closed and you refused to open them. “Oh don't be dramatic now. It’s just a stupid Ferris wheel, we’ll get down soon.”
“Adam just shut the fuck up if you don't have anything smart to say,” you spat through clenched teeth, a mix of emotions between pure terror and anger coursing through you.
Adam chuckled, clearly amused by the situation. “Our little detective is afraid of heights isn't she?”.
He looked at you carefully and saw you open your eyelids as you looked up at the ceiling and continued to take deep breaths. You didn't answer him, that's why he decided continuing to tease you was great idea.
“Stop being a pussy and enjoy the view instead. Don't think I like the idea of being stuck with you either.”
Adam didn't really mean it, he wasn't really mad at you, he just madly loved making you angry and teasing you until you’d explode. You were so hot and sexy when you were angry and all worked up, he couldn't help himself even though he was aware he was being an asshole 99% of the time.
He ignored the part of his conscience that told him this was just a way to get you to stay away from him because he didn't have the strength to do it, because for some absurd reason you attracted him like a moth was attracted to the light.
He tried to convince himself it was just physical attraction, although he knew full well what he felt for you was deeper than that.
But this time you didn't respond to any of his taunts, your fear too strong to even think about what he said.
Adam continued to look at you and noticed the way your chest rose and fell quickly, your breathing was frantic, your hands continued to shake despite being clenched into fists, your gaze fixed on the ceiling. The smirk he had plastered on his face slowly disappeared when he realized it wasn't just a little fear, you were completely terrified.
“You okay?” He tried to ask you stupidly. It was clear you weren’t okay at all.
Anxiety was hardly twisting your stomach you feared you’d vomit on his shoes at any moment. Nausea was paralyzing you and the dizziness made your head spin so much you thought you’d pass out right then and there.
You didn't know why you were so afraid of heights, why the fear paralyzed you to the point you couldn't move a muscle and made your heart beat so fast it almost stopped. You just wanted to go down and put your feet on dry land and kill whoever had convinced you to get on that thing.
“Y/n. You hear me?!” Adam's urgent voice brought you back to reality for a moment. You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes which you kept opening and closing in an attempt to calm yourself a bit.
Adam realized you were about to have a panic attack so without even thinking twice, he knelt down in front of you and placed his hands on your knees, worried. “Hey look at me.”
But you couldn't seem to hear him, your body was there but your mind had flown away.
“Y/n look at me please,” he continued, but kept his voice calm so as not to make the situation worse. You opened your eyes and looked at him, too anxious and terrified to realize what he was doing. His eyes shone as they looked at you with concern, making you think for a few seconds how rare that way of looking at you was.
“Breathe with me okay?” He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Let's do this together, breathe with me. Breathe in…” he said “C’mon, you can do it angel. I’m here with you.”
Your eyes let out some tears and he raised a hand, gently wiping them away and making you lose your mind even more.
“It's okay, you're not alone. I'm right here.”
Was this man really Adam Ruzek? The same Adam who made your life impossible? The same obnoxious Adam?
You couldn’t believe it but you were too scared to react.
“C’mon, breathe with me,” he smiled faintly to encourage you and you nodded, starting to inhale deeply and following him, letting the air out of your lungs.
Your eyes never left each other for a second as he stayed there with you making you take deep breaths, slowly getting your breathing back to a normal pace.
“You're doing great, just keep going,” he murmured as he continued to look at you and smile comfortingly. His thumbs caressed your knees and for some strange, absurd reason this gesture comforted you more than the breathing exercises you had done up until that moment.
“Everything will be fine you hear me? They'll start this piece of junk again and we'll get out of here before you know it. Nothing will happen, you’re safe,” he spoke as his eyes scanned your facial features carefully. He tried to ignore how beautiful you were under those lights, you were so breathtaking and he couldn't stop looking at you. “I won't let anything happen to you.”
What the hell?
I won't let anything happen to you? Really Adam?
You remained silent for a few moments as your blurry eyes got lost in his. You wanted so much to be able to read inside him, to know what he thought, how he felt as he looked at you but you couldn't. God, that man was such a mystery.
You knew he was telling you those things just to make you calm down but you couldn't help but wonder if deep down he really meant those words. For an instant you convinced yourself he did, your heart wanted to think for just a second he had feelings for you.
Adam swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to stop the thoughts that tortured his mind at the moment. His expression seemed calm, but an exhausting battle between was taking place inside him.
He struggled between the desire to have you, to just kiss you right there, and the desire to stay away from you because you truly were the most annoying person on the planet sometimes.
He looked away as he sat next to you on that narrow seat no longer able to maintain eye-contact without fear of doing or saying something stupid.
A sudden gust of wind made the small cabin sway considerably, plunging you into complete panic again and almost making your heart stop beating.
A scream of terror escaped you and before you even realized it, you threw yourself into Adam's arms, looking for some kind of protection.
Adam was a little taken aback at first, not expecting this in any way but he returned that hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and holding you tightly to him as his fingers caressed you in an attempt to calm you down.
“Shh it's okay, it was just a little wind. We're fine,” he whispered to you, mentally praying you couldn't hear how hard his heart was beating. That was the first time you had hugged in the years you had known each other and he was about to lose his mind.
“Adam, p-please… I want to get off…” you muttered desperately, your face pressed against his chest as you trembled like a leaf.
His heart sank at the sight. You had always been so strong and brave in his eyes, as if nothing could affect you, so seeing you in that state caused him a sensation he hated, and that he was sure he’d never want to feel again in his life.
“Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here okay? You’ll be fine, they’re all working to get us all down. I promise it’ll be over soon,” he whispered, stroking your arms and tightening his grip around you even more. “Talk to me, don't shut yourself down.”
“I don’t know what to say…”
“Anything you want, just focus on me.”
You thought about it for a second and told him the first thing that came to mind. “At one point I thought about throwing you off this damn Ferris wheel.”
His chest vibrated as he laughed and you found yourself smiling back, turning serious right back when you realized what you were doing.
Your mind had decided to turn itself off when you realized what was happening: you were hugging Adam and the thing shocked you the most was that you felt really good in his arms. In other moments you probably would’ve walked away but right then you didn't want to think about it, he managed to calm you down and you needed it.
Adam leaned his head against yours, the skin of his cheek slightly pinched by your hair as he involuntarily inhaled the scent of it.
God what am I doing?
What are you doing to me Y/n?
“Well, now is a good time if you want.”
“Don't tempt me, I could actually do it and plead insanity.”
You then took a deep breath as your heartbeat returned to a normal pace and the agitation slowly passed. For the first time since you'd met, you and Adam were able to have a conversation where neither of you let out insults or threatened to put a bullet in the other's foot.
You couldn't understand how much time had passed since the Ferris wheel had stopped but thanks to Adam you managed not to think about it as he talked to you the whole time to keep you distracted.
“Can I ask you a question?” You dared to ask after a small moment of silence. You were still sitting next to each other, his arms around you and your head resting on his chest and you were almost afraid to move, fearing he’d let you go if you did.
“Hmm,” he hummed positively as his eyes looked around the cabin.
“Why do you hate me?” You asked in a voice so low you feared he hadn't heard you, your breath caught in your throat.
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I don't hate you... Well yes, but I hate you because you hate me and because you’ve been an asshole since the first day I joined the team.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic. C’mon...”
“Adam,” you interrupted him with firm tone.
He chuckled. “Okay, okay, maybe just a little bit.”
“And why? I don't think I've ever done anything to you.”
Silence reigned supreme for a few seconds while he reflected on your words, his eyes observing the metallic ceiling.
Why did he hate you?
He had asked himself this many times but he had never been able to give himself an answer. He didn't know the real reason, you were right, you had never done anything to him, you had always been kind to everyone from the first moment. But then why?
Maybe because it easier, maybe because he knew from the very beginning you were going to mess up his whole life so hating you was the best thing he could do to keep you away, to not let himself fall for you.
But however, this inevitably happened against the odds and his will.
You took courage and raised your head slightly to look at him and at that same moment his eyes met yours. You were incredibly close, closer than you ever would’ve been even if you were drunk.
His breath tickled your lips as his eyes looked at you with so much intensity so felt like a thousand-volt electrical discharge went though your body, as if he was somehow trying to read your soul.
What the hell are you thinking about Adam?
His eyes were so hard to read, so enigmatic. They were like a puzzle and you struggled to find the necessary pieces to be able to complete it and understand what he was thinking and feeling.
He moved his gaze between your eyes and your lips, trying to maintain a neutral expression even if every cell in his body screamed to close that little gap and press his lips to yours.
But he couldn't, especially not at that moment.
And, above all, why did he think ‘not at that moment’? Did this mean he actually wanted to kiss you?
It was a question he didn't even try to answer, his mind was too clouded to think logically.
One of his hands moved to your face and with a gentleness you struggled to recognize he caressed your cheek, fixing some small, messy locks of hair. Your breathing stopped and your heart started wildly pounding again, this time not because of the dizziness and the fear of falling down.
You were paralyzed under his intense and magnetic gaze, you wanted so much to be able to say something, to break that deafening silence but the words inevitably died in your throat.
He continued to alternate his gaze between your eyes and your lips, you actually unaware of the internal battle he was eagerly fighting.
Anyone who saw you two would think this was just a romantic moment that a couple in love was sharing, anyone could see the way you both looked at each other and no one would’ve doubted you actually hated each other.
Or at least that's what you thought.
You thought you hated him.
You forced yourself to do it, as if to reciprocate his hatred, because of the way he treated you.
But you didn't hate him, not as much as you wanted to. Sure, he made your blood boil in your veins like very few other people in the world did, there were countless times when you would’ve punched him in the face after some of his pranks, but you couldn't deny how much you desired that man just as intensely.
“What are you thinking about?” He whispered as he continued to covertly caress your face. Suddenly, however, he moved his hand away, making you instantly feel the feeling of emptiness and cold that his touch had left. His fingers trailed down to your hand, still clenched into a fist without realizing it.
“What are you thinking?” You whispered back as you saw his lips part slightly. His fingers lightly caressed your skin, almost as imperceptibly as he had done to your cheek and you relaxed almost instantly, making you subconsciously hate yourself for the way your body responded so easily to him.
“Don't answer a question with another question.” His lips lifted into a small smirk and your heart simultaneously came out of your rib cage and crashed onto the asphalt.
His fingers played with yours for a while, his fingertips dragging over your skin, as if studying every feature and little imperfection. Your stomach twisted on itself as he intertwined his fingers with yours and squeezed your hand, drawing little imaginary circles on it with his thumb.
“Says the one who still haven't answered my initial question,” you replied in the same mischievous tone.
“Touché,” he chuckled “I guess… I just think it was easier.”
You frowned a little bit and he refrained himself from kiss it away.
“Easier?”.
He didn't answer this question, leaving it still hanging in the air. But the he leaned even closer to you, almost imperceptibly but when his lips lightly brushed yours, you forgot what that question was and even your damn name. “Push me away angel.”
You didn't do it even though you knew you had to.
Your brain was aware of it but your body couldn't move, instead it continued to crave his touch, his mouth on yours.
“Why?” you whispered as you brushed your lips against his again, and again, until every part of you exploded in desire and passion.
Were you going to regret it? Probably yes, but in that moment you couldn't care less, you were too caught up and overwhelmed by the hurricane that was Adam Ruzek to be able to think rationally.
“Because I might do something stupid…” he breathed out, having a hard time to keep control of himself, his hands tightening their grip on you. “Fuck… You drive me crazy.”
His lips continued brushing yours, this time in such a way you felt like you were being swallowed up by a hurricane and spat out and then thrown forcefully against a truck. Only a millimeter was missing, just a single one for the kiss you were both waiting and desiring so intensely.
You were both waiting for one of you to pull back, to realize the stupid thing you were about to do but neither of you did, even though you both knew if you crossed this line there would be no turning back. You had already crossed this line, sure, but you actually didn't remember a thing from the night you ended up in his bed.
There would be no alcohol or liquor to blame this time, just your stupid minds and bodies that didn't want to be apart from each other.
However a sudden thud made you literally jump and suddenly move away from him, panic starting to take over again as you feared your time had come. Nevertheless as soon as you realized the Ferris wheel was finally unblocked and it had started to rotate again, you let out a sigh of relief.
When you finally reached the ground, you came out of that cabin at the speed of light, almost bursting into tears when you realized it was really over.
Your gaze followed Adam for a moment, who started talking and laughing with Jay and Kim as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't been about to kiss you until a few moments before.
Your friends were talking to you and asking how you were but your mind was completely elsewhere, still stuck in the moment when you were so close to him and about to kiss.
His eyes met yours for a moment. He looked at you with such intensity that your knees almost buckled, a little smirk on his lips making your heart drop with anticipation and that was probably the first time you were able to understand his unspoken words.
Whatever happened up there wasn't over.
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if requests are open….jotaro getting jealous over some guy flirting with y/n🥺🥺
IGNORE THAT THIS IS OVER TWO YEARS LATE.
jotaro x reader (?), kind of an au i guess. he's part 4 age, 1.3k
"Hi, honey," says a voice, clearly directed at you. When you turn around, you see some guy standing there, shooting you a frankly stunning smile. He's not just some guy… he's Some Guy, and when he winks at you, you feel yourself flush despite everything. You're normally less susceptible to flirting from random strangers but holy shit, this guy is cute as hell. What's a person like you to do? Not react? Ridiculous. Perish the thought. "Come here often?" Oof.
Despite never having seen this man before, and despite the completely generic, awful pickup line he just used on you, you decide the guy is worth your time. He's just too damn hot to let go. If you don't shoot your shot, you're going to regret it for the rest of your life. So what if he's kind of an idiot? Look at that jawline! Those curls!
"Hi," you reply shyly, twirling your hair around your finger. If he's allowed to be ridiculously cliche, then you are, too. It's called equality. "I do, actually."
His eyes light up with delight, for some reason, even though your reply was incredibly boring. You guess that makes sense, considering the guy's opener. He's probably just kind of a boring guy. At least he's gorgeous. "Does that mean you can help me out here? I'm kind of lost."
…Lost? How is he lost? This is a boba place. There are menus on every available surface. Ordering boba is really not all that complicated but hey, it's a foot in the door with this sexy, sexy man, so whatever.
In an extraordinary show of patience, you walk Some Guy through every step of ordering bubble tea. He is very hot but he is not very smart.
When he asks you what your favorite flavor is, you smile shyly and tell him your exact order. With a big dumb grin on his face, he turns to the cashier and orders what you helped him decide on, as well as your favorite, confirming your suspicion that he's buying you a drink. (That basically makes this a date, right? Right.) The cashier, clearly thankful that the two of you are finally done holding up the line, rings it up and shoos you both toward the pickup end of the counter.
Over on the pickup side, you damn near have a heart attack. You don't know how you didn't notice it before, but the employee here—who has apparently been here the whole time—is the most handsome man you've ever seen in your life. He is so beautiful he makes Some Guy look like just some guy. (Wait, wait, he gave a name for the order… Daniel? You think it's Daniel. Let's go with Daniel.)
The employee is just kind of standing around, waiting for the drinks to be made. To fill the silence, Daniel chats mindlessly, standing a little closer to you than is probably warranted, but you don't mind.
Handsome Employee, however, looks at Daniel like Daniel killed his fucking family, all narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. You think that if Handsome Employee looked at you like that, you'd pee your pants, but Daniel doesn't even seem to notice it. Hot, dumb, and ballsy, that Daniel. He's like an anime character.
Daniel, all smiles, wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side-hug. While this might have been nice earlier, when he was Some Guy, now he's just some guy and you're not really loving him touching you unprompted. Handsome Employee doesn't seem to be loving it, either, which is interesting. He looks… Well, more than pissed, he looks kind of jealous?
There's no way, though, right? He must be seething over something else.
Blithe as anything, his arm tight around you, Daniel looks at Handsome Employee and teases, "Everything good? Y'got a mighty frown."
Somehow, Handsome Employee's expression sours further. He looks like he's trying to blow Daniel up with his mind. "Kinda handsy," he says, voice like gravel. And what else could it possibly be? He's jealous.
But why? Does he… Oh, God, he likes you, doesn't he? This is the best day of your life!
It makes sense, you think. You look unusually adorable today—Daniel approached you, too, remember—and this is your favorite boba place. You're here, like, all the time. It's not unreasonable to think Handsome Employee noticed you! You definitely notice regulars at your job, so why wouldn't he notice his?
His gaze is pure poison. It makes you giddy. You feel stupid with it. You know you should step away from Daniel, should try to clear up the misunderstanding, should flaunt your availability, but… Well, it's kind of nice to be wanted!
As if reading your mind, Daniel pulls you even closer. "This one doesn't seem to mind," he says, jostling you a little.
You blush. You nod. Handsome Employee looks apoplectic. Instead of commenting, though, another employee arrives, two cups in hand. They hand them over to Handsome Employee and quickly turn away, perhaps sensing the rancid vibes. Voice caustic, Handsome Employee holds up your drink and the monstrosity that Daniel ordered and grits out, "Order up."
Neither of you move to grab the drinks.
Handsome Employee's eye twitches. "Order up," he repeats meaningfully, his knuckles whitening around the cups. "Let go of that freak and get your damn drinks."
Wow. It's kind of a wonder the guy hasn't been fired, with customer service like that. Calling Daniel a freak right to his face! You forgive Handsome Employee, of course, because he's so handsome, but still. It's a little rude.
Daniel smiles wide, opens his mouth, but Handsome Employee cuts him off with, "You're not cute, Devin."
Oh. It's Devin. You were close!
"I'm the cutest," says not-Daniel. He looks self-satisfied and punch-drunk. He looks like today is the best day of his life, though you can't fathom why. He's about to lose you to a lowly boba shop employee! "And you're jealous!"
"If you don't come grab these drinks," growls Handsome Employee, his eyes like fire, "I'm going to throw them."
Upon hearing that, you spring into action, because this is your favorite top and you'd really rather it not get covered in milk tea and that toxic slutch Devin ordered. Wiggling out from under Devin's arm, you zip over to the counter, arms outstretched. You only grab yours, though. Devin's on his own.
Instead of just letting you take your drink, though, Handsome Employee grabs your arm and pulls you towards him with a frankly unwarranted amount of force. His skin is so warm it almost burns. He leans forward, and you can't help but lean in, too.
You feel giddy. What's he going to say to you that he couldn't say in front of Devin?
"Touch my boyfriend again," says Handsome Employee, "and you're going home in a body bag. Now get the fuck out of here." And with that, he lets you go. The sudden release sends you flying backwards. You land heavily on your ass, probably bruising your tailbone.
Looming over you with a smarmy grin is Devin. "Thanks for all your help, you were a peach," he says, and he has the gall to fucking wink at you. "It's hard to get Jotaro riled up, you know? So I appreciate your sacrifice." He grabs his drink from his boyfriend, punctures the lid like a pro, then takes a long pull. "Delish! Alright, babe, I'm outta here, I'll see you at home. Byeeee!" Then he's out the door.
A beat of silence. You feel dizzy. You want to cry. "How long are you going to sit on the floor?" Jotaro asks acerbically, and you just can't take it anymore. You fling your drink at him. As if on instinct, he punches it away from him, and it, of course, explodes in a shower of milk tea and tapioca pearls.
Scrambling over the counter, Jotaro is on you in a flash, grabbing you by your collar like a naughty kitten. He drags you out of the door. "Never come back here!" And with that, he tosses you bodily, and you land with a wet splat in a nearby drainage ditch turned canal with the recent rain.
All that and you didn't even get to drink your boba.
#THIS IS PARODY#yeah i got this ask july of 2021. yes i'm only answering it now. whatever#my epic return from the grave 2 and a half years later#jojo x reader#jjba x reader#jjba#jojo imagines#kujo jotaro#jotaro kujo#jotaro kujo x reader#jojo reader insert#jojo's bizarre adventure#jotaro x reader#jotaro's not going to fuck you beloved<3#askies#i am punishing the reader for their hubris#shout out to my oc. he sucks!
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Hazbin Hotel Headcanon:
This is gonna be a long walk, so stay with me.
Okay, so, it's biblically canon that Lilith left Adam because the dude was really bad in bed. Hazbin Hotel canon seems to follow that narrative, as well.
And, if you want evidence that he's bad in bed, I present you with Exhibit A:
No man who is actually good in bed would say such a thing. Also, the way he talks to and about women...
And, if you do like it...well, that's your business and I'm not judging you. To each their own. But, I digress.
Back to the point, Lucifer even alludes to the fact that he has had sex with BOTH of Adam's wives.
My evidence:
How Lucifer won over Lilith:
How Lucifer won over Eve:
Now, I headcanon that Lilith, Eve, & Lucifer had a threesome type of deal going on.
Lilith does NOT seem traditional, & I don't know much about Eve from the show other than that she was definitely into sleeping with that little duck obsessed sexpot (aka Lucifer).
And why wouldn't they be into Lucifer?
Adam's first wife left him for how selfish he was in bed, Adam probably wasn't any better with Eve, and we know from certain hand/mouth gestures that Lucifer is a GIVER.
Maybe Lucifer was cast out of heaven because he taught the first two women that orgasms weren't just achieved alone, but they could happen with a partner, as well.
All of this has got me thinking:
--Either God kept purposefully making women that he knew Lucifer would be attracted to. Why? Idk, maybe to mess with Lucifer & Adam.
--Or, because of Adam's hubris & general blasphemous belief that people exist because of Adam & not because of God's own will, God made it so that every single woman Adam married would be attracted to Lucifer and Lucifer would be attracted to all of Adam's wives.
--Or, at some point, Adam made Lucifer so angry that Lucifer's type just became Adam's Wife.
Either way...
Which brings me to my main headcanon that if it is revealed that Lute & Adam were secretly married prior to Adam's death, then Lucifer & Lute might become attracted to one another.
Now, I don't ship Lute & Lucifer. I just think it'd make Adam mad, and that would make me laugh.
Scenario:
Lucifer: Wait...Adam got married for a third time before Niffty killed him???
Vaggie: Well, yeah, I thought it was pretty obvious that Adam & Lute were waaayyy closer than normal.
Lucifer: Huh...interesting...
Charlie: Dad, ew!
Lucifer: I didn't do anything!
Charlie: Also, Adam is a new soul in Hell, and he's at the hotel for redemption. Do NOT slow down his progress by antagonizing him like this.
Lucifer *innocently*: I have no idea what you're talking about, Char-Char.
Vaggie *clearly confused*: What's going on?
Lucifer *abruptly stands up*: Anyway, Daddy's got to go. He's got someone-oh, uh- I mean, somehwhere to do-be! He's got somewhere to be!
~Lucifer Skedaddles~
Vaggie *still cofused*: What was that about?
Charlie *embarassed*: Well...my dad has a type...
~After Explanation~
Vaggie: Oh. My. God.
Charlie *head in her hands*: It's so gross and weird!
Vaggie: Yeah, well, at least there's no way Lute will be in to him, too.
Charlie *sighing sadly*: I can only hope you're right. For whatever reason, Adam's wives find my dad as irresistible as he finds them.
Vaggie: Ew.
Charlie: Ew is right. Ew. Is. Right.
~Meanwhile, Somewhere in Heaven, Lute is talking to Lilith & Eve~
Lute: I hate Lucifer, and I hate you both, too!
Lilith & Eve: We know.
Lute: He's so stupid, and he's so obsessed with ducks, and he's so ancient. I mean, how old is he? Like, he's probably older than space and time, or something equally as lame. He's so old he probably even keeps bees or something.
Liith & Eve: MmmHmmm
Lute: I mean, he definitely looks like he's bee keeping age.
Lilith & Eve: *smugly know what's going on*
Lute *horrified*: Oh, no, I want to fuck Lucifer.
Lilith: No shit.
Eve: Welcome to the club!
This is Lilith, Eve, & Lute:
If any of you read the whole thing, thanks, and I hope you have a good one!
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel headcanons#lucifer hazbin hotel#charlie hazbin hotel#vaggie hazbin hotel#lute hazbin hotel#adam hazbin hotel#lilith hazbin hotel#eve hazbin hotel#anti-adam hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel scenario#hazbin hotel scenarios#gifs
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Isa my darling! Happy Birthday, albeit a couple of days early.
Seeing you screech in Philza's streams because Apollo hit you with that dodgeball yet again makes me giggle a lot.
How about since headcanon's for qPhilza's past/pre island relationship with qFit. How they got to know each other, and how quickly they became friends?
Idr if I said this on Tumblr yet but deadass I asked Apollo on my pendulum if qPhil is his blorbo and he said yes. He's been as invested in shit as me and it's been hilarious. I literally have crows yelling at me irl to keep writing rn but I'm answering headcanons first.
The entire time I've been distracted between writing these, crows have been yelling at me about it. Which. Is how Apollo communicates with me when I'm not actively talking to him through readings LMFAO.
Also thank you for the birthday wish :D [desperately hoping nothing else horrible happens this weekend please god]
Anyway qPhil headcanons masterlist let's go
Disclaimer that I didn't know of Fit before QSMP (I've only been in mcyt for 4 years monkaS) so these are gonna be largely pulled out of my ass and a lil repetitive.
These two both have experiences in anarchy and war, they've definitely brushed shoulders a couple times bc of it
They admired each other's work ofc. Phil is a macro scale kinda guy, total annihilation and victory that makes a statement. Fit's more of a micro scale kinda guy, zeroing in on one person or group individually and making their lives hell until the end in the name of surviving a little longer
On that note, I think we all sleep a little bit on the fact that Fit is Also a survivalist like Phil, just in a very different set of high stakes conditions. These two are equally skilled in it and equally sharp strategists
On that note, anyone who knew them from the past would fear the idea of them coming together to create a plan of any kind, especially of the anarchist-fueled variety. If the Federation has done their research right, they should know full well how terrifying this duo could be in an effort to dismantle their authority
Btw by brushing shoulders I don't just mean brief passings by, I mean they've like. Camped out for a night together, temporarily truced for the sake of safety in numbers, etc. More than a few conversations have been had even if the time they've spent together totals to less than a week.
However, even when they weren't actively paired together, they'd still occasionally trade or gift each other surplus resources. It was a genuine kind act, even if it simultaneously served as a reason for each of them to not come after the other. I scratch your back, you scratch mine.
Like why do you think Fit was one of the first threats on Phil's mind in Purgatory. He Knew(tm). And he knew Fit has an affinity for picking off the weak first, like a lion after a herd of antelope. To him, Purgatory was the awakening of a monster who'd been dormant for a long time.
See, present day they're QPR as fuck, they'd never do this now without 10x the pressure Purgatory put on them, but back in the day they took close notes on each other's strengths and weaknesses. Just In Case, yknow? They could very much kill each other. Back in the day they would've if it came to it, no matter how good an ally they were.
Something about how these two used to be so cold and hard to the world. Be it to self-preserve or some other reason. Something about how now they've both softened and warmed after becoming parents. They never could've imagined the other would "weaken" like this, especially back then.
Phil 🤝🏻 Fit - Phil being a historian of the deities/builds of his Hardcore World, Fit being a historian of 2B2T
A lot of this boils down to mutual respect, common interests, and secret admiration tbh. And what's more homoerotic than that?
#qsmp#qsmp philza#qsmp fitmc#qsmp fit#qsmp fitza#qsmp veterans#qphil headcanons#AMFMN things#<- bc these apply to the fic
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Azris one shot
Lmfaooooo this was inspired by the roleplaying I did with @futureautumnhighlord @the-moon-on-a-string @shadowbabiesdaddy @that-spring-court-blond
We basically kept reblogging each other's shit and it turned into smut so part 2 is going to be completely smut. 😭
Azriel’s arms wrapped around Eris from behind him as he snarled at Tamlin.
“Stay away from Eris, Tamlin, or else…”
Tamlin bared his teeth. His hair had shapeshifted to a night-black, quite like Rhysand’s and Azriel’s. He was a far-cry from the male he had been before Feyre had left him. “What are you going to do, shadowsinger? I’m a High Lord, and the male you’re holding is a High Lord’s heir. What’s an Illyrian ilk compared to that power?”
Azriel chuckled darkly. “Oh, I can do a lot of things.” His shadows delivered them to a place far far away from the Spring Court forests. Accustomed to this travel, Eris kept his eyes wide open as Azriel winnowed them to the Autumn Court. Well, not winnowed, exactly. The shadowsinger method of travel was slightly different from winnowing; nobody knew exactly how it worked, but it was mentioned in old myths that those born of the death god could quite literally melt into shadows and reappear anywhere in the world as long as a shadow existed. The shadowsinger abilities appeared to be something like that.
Indeed, the shadowsinger willed them to appear underneath a tall oak near the Autumn Court forest in his backyard. Eris smirked ever so slightly as he turned back to look at Azriel.
“Why’d you take me away, little bat?”
The word little was hilarious here. Both males were of almost equal height, though Azriel was a wee bit broader than Eris due to his Illyrian heritage. Much as he denied that heritage (to the delight of Eris), it was still present in his complexion and build. His hands were a broad tan compared to the long pale hands of Eris, far better fit for playing piano than for fighting on a battlefield. Yet Eris was the general of the Autumn Court armies and had plenty of battle experience of his own; it just didn’t define him like it defined Illyrians.
“What the hell were you doing in Tamlin’s territory?” Azriel said quietly; his voice barely hid the simmering rage beneath.
Eris laughed. It was hilarious how the male acted as if they were in a committed relationship. By no means were they in any such relationship; Eris was newly engaged to Cresseida of the Summer Court, and they were to be married within the next two weeks. True, their marriage was that of convenience, which left both of them to free to fuck whoever they want (including each other periodically). But that just proved Eris’s point: he was loyal to nothing and no one but himself and the crown he wanted so damn badly. Eris had made no promises to Azriel. Yet the jealousy simmering off of the Illyrian brute was such a strong stench it overwhelmed all of Eris’s senses.
“I was going to help him fulfill the Calanmai rite,” he said smoothly. “Tamlin was going to shapeshift into a female and our culmination would’ve under ideal conditions, magicked the Spring Court back to normal.” Though it was unlikely that would even work at this point, it would be worth it to try. At least to keep Beron away from Spring should his plan work. Of course, Eris didn’t need a reason to have sex with whoever he pleased.
Azriel clenched his fists before pulling out his blade, Truth-Teller. “What, I’m not good enough for you?”
Eris truly laughed then, leaning forward so that their noses almost brushed against each other. “You are nothing but my lover, little bat. I did not commit to anything with you, like it or not.”
Azriel’s eyes simmered with dark rage that made Eris’s instincts stand up.
“Is that how you’re going to play it?”
Eris smirked. “You’ve finally caught on. This is just a game, you and I. You couldn’t possibly believe I’d ever want to be with the male who killed and tortured my soldiers. Or lusted after my brother’s mate,” he added with more bite to his voice. Real anger flooded through him now. “Why would I want to be with the male who pined for my mate for nearly 500 years?”
“Your mate?” Azriel gaped like a fish for a moment before the rage returned to his face. “And why would I ever want to be with the male who left the female I pined for for 500 years in her terrible state at your own border?”
“I thought you were smarter than the bastard, shadowsinger,” Eris sneered. “Surely you know now that what I did was a mercy, not a spiteful act.”
“It’s hard to know when everything is a game to you.”
“When I play the game, it’s fun, Azriel. Females being brutally tortured is not my idea of fun. Or have you forgotten about my mother?”
Azriel snarled in Eris’s ear. “So, fucking the High Lord of Spring is your idea of fun?” Eris shrugged. “Maybe it is. I’m a generous male, Illyrian. I’ve got to share the beauty of Autumn Court passion, you know.”
In an instant, Azriel had shoved Eris against a tree. With his wings flaring out behind him and the feral look in his eyes, he truly looked the part of the dark angel.
“Do you ever wear anything fashionable?” Eris asked because he knew it would infuriate him. Indeed, Azriel wrapped his hand around Eris’s neck and squeezed tight.
“I don’t need the clothing of a spoiled brat to kill you,” Azriel sneered in his face. Eris only let a lazy smile form on his face as he drawled, “Kinky, shadowsinger. But I know you won’t kill me. I’m too irresistible. Besides,” Eris willed his flame to surround him like an aura of a glowing god. Azriel flinched ever so slightly as he pulled back. “You get too close to the fire, and you get burned, Azriel.”
Eris rarely said his name, and he could see Azriel’s name on his lips had an instant effect on him. He shuddered and walked back towards Eris, as if drawn in by a magnet.
“I still haven’t forgiven you for what you tried to do,” Azriel growled, following Eris into the house. “No sex for a week.”
Eris only leaned against the entrance to his secret house. “Then why are you following me in, little bat?”
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"You were my first."
Rating: Explicit 18+ only!
[AO3 Link]
[Kinktober 2023 prompt thanks to @absurdthirst! October 2nd - Sexual Frustration, Virginity]
[[TW/CW: Cptsd, blood, gore, self-hate, abuse flashback, casual suicide ideation, intense genitalia depiction (imagined), alcohol]]
Summary: Astarion drinks from a person for the first time.
Expansion of the first bite scene in Act 1. The fourth night of their adventure.
[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]
Astarion and Vistri trusted each other the least out of everyone else.
They were too much alike, cut from the same cloth and that cloth was absolute bullshit. Something always lurked in their eyes behind carefully crafted smiles. All of their expressions were adornments, masks. Even their movements were costumes. The two of them practically made up their own masquerade ball! Always dancing around flirtatiously, getting under each other's skin, ruffling feathers.
Vistri knew these things, and she refused to let herself trust Astarion because of it.
So why did it feel like a betrayal to find him looming over her bedroll in the dark? Fangs bared, ready to strike. Ready to take. Her heart plummeted before she even had the chance to process what was happening. She opened her eyes and the sight of him dragged her down into a nostalgic pit.
“Shit,” Astarion jumped back the moment she stirred. He’d fucked up, made a bad call, and now Vistri was going to drive a stake through his heart. The glower on her face said it all. He’d been so close to finally tasting a real person, and now he was doomed to die without ever sating his gnawing hunger.
Gods! If she hadn't stopped him...
“The hells!” she raged, shaking off sleep as she stood.
“No, no—It’s not what it looks like, I swear!” he protested, thinking, Surely, this is the end. Vistri was going to kill him. Or one of the others if he put up a good enough fight.
Vistri scowled. The fear in Astarion’s tone and posture was a mirror. His was the exact sort of song and dance she’d put on whenever she herself got caught; when she wasn’t really sorry about anything other than the discovery. It set her heart racing, and made it ache for some reason.
She spoke with a lump in her throat, “Kind of looks like your second murder attempt from where I’m standing.”
“I wasn’t going to hurt you!” Astarion explained defensively, “I just needed—Well, blood.”
“Blood? You needed my blood? Who?—Oh…”
Somewhere between Darkvision greys and the orange glow of dim firelight, Vistri saw Astarion draped in new colors. Those red eyes, pale skin, and silver hair of his were not signs of fealty to Lolth as she'd thought, but the markings of another dark god. One, no doubt, more worrying. The scar on his neck wasn’t the shadow of an arrow or fork, but the echo of another mouth. His sharp teeth were... It’s not that Vistri didn’t have her suspicions, it’s just that she’d pushed those thoughts to the edges of her mind. She’d literally been blinded by the sunlight!
It was the first time Astarion ever admitted this to another person, his condition. He couldn't even say the word ‘vampire’ out loud, but based on the various looks shifting in and out of Vistri’s expressions, he wouldn't have to, she’d gotten there on her own.
She hadn’t reached for a weapon, but that was subject to change. Astarion swallowed, her pounding pulse as real in his senses as the smell of hot food wafting through a warm breeze. He watched her observe the hunger as it consumed him, drove him mad. His body shook with the signs.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it…” she muttered, “We even found the boar you snacked on!”
She’d only chosen to go to sleep that night because Astarion had been acting so… so pissy! He'd been equal parts dismissive and condescending that evening whenever they spoke. Vistri thought he didn’t like her much before, but he’d been acting as if he truly hated her—It grated on her nerves! Trance wouldn’t do when its semiconsciousness still left her with a vague awareness of his presence. She needed to get away, and to get away, she slept. Ironic then, how her awareness of him was what roused her now. Gods, she couldn’t get away even when she tried to!
She slapped her forehead, “The pig! Gods I was wondering why you were being such a bitch about the pig!”
Astarion was literally taken aback, “A bitch?—I was not!”
“You just now tried to steal my blood!” she scoffed, “And yes, you have been! All day and evening long!”
“Now, now. Let’s not wake the others.”
Vistri crossed her arms, frowning.
“It’s not what you think—” he said defensively, “I’m not some monster!”
Whether true or not, she could tell he didn’t really believe his own words. Reality was, part of him did and part of him didn’t, and both parts rejected the other. For some reason, it was important to him now that she didn’t believe he was... one of those. For once, Astarion had revealed his dirty secret, and needed Vistri not to let that change anything.
“I feed on animals! Boars, deer, kobolds—” he continued, “Whatever I can get.”
“The latest I recall; I am not a boar or a deer or a kobold.”
Astarion rolled his eyes in desperate frustration, “Yes, exactly! You’re not whatever I can get. You’re what I crave to sink my teeth into!”
Vistri’s breath tripped over her heartbeat and got caught up in its frantic patter.
That wasn’t an unwelcome thought, but… It’s just that he didn’t ask first! It pushed Astarion over into the “unsafe people” category, and she wasn’t allowed to like those people. Shadowheart was right, and Vistri hated him for it as much as she did for finding him ready to prey on her unconscious form.
There was just no going back from that.
“You were looking at me funny last night,” she mused, “This is why you were looking at me like that, wasn’t it?”
He nodded, not breathing.
“Wanted a nibble, did you?” she teased unkindly, holding her fear all the way down in her toes, so as not to risk it slipping into her voice.
“I’m just too slow right now,” he explained with puppy eyes, “Too weak.”
“I’ll say.”
Well, Vistri wasn’t killing him, and now she was starting to act like her usual unserious self. Astarion knew he should really stop there. He was lucky enough to just get where he was now, with her not immediately staking him.
But…
Astarion carefully considered how to phrase his proposal, “If I just had a little blood… I could think clearer. Fight better. Please."
He reminded Vistri of sobering drunks shouting out to bartenders after the pubs had closed. But it was also an ask of her. One that centered on her willingness to give herself away and made her the most important person in his world at that moment. Vistri had an easy answer for those types of inquiries.
She could see the ravenous curse glaring in his eyes. Astarion was all need, and yet he gave her the chance to decide. To be taken, or not?
And what would that be like? If she let him take her? If she just laid back and craned her neck?
No!
Absolutely not! No!
She shut her eyes to think for a moment, almost wishing Shadowheart would stir. Where’s a cleric when you need one most? She could help her say no. Or rather, wouldn’t let Vistri say yes—But she’d be absolutely insufferable about it the whole time!
Vistri fell into Astarion’s eyes the moment she opened hers.
“Gods be damned,” she whined.
“What?”
“Shhhsh! Let me think!”
Astarion’s mind was so consumed by the sight of her throat that he couldn’t come up with a retort. He just swallowed and stared longingly at her.
Gods, he was going to eat her up!
Vistri knew she was already lost, but she still had to fight it. As a last resort, she turned to the tadpoles. Even if she was doomed to give in, she could at least see the moment for what it was. She always considered pushing into someone else’s mind without permission a gross transgression, but if Astarion was willing to take without asking, then the truth was more important than his trust or comfort.
It was as simple as giving in. Vistri reached out to both their tadpoles, blending their minds so she could read his. The door she created only opened one way though. She imagined her mind as an impenetrable abyss. Nothing could breach it. Vistri would peer inside his consciousness without showing him any of her own. She pictured Astarion's mind as a sea, its waters ready to be parted, and dove in.
And as she stole information, memory, the tadpole enacted its own violation, nestling further into her flesh. It touched parts nothing should ever touch and ate things she couldn’t afford to lose. But what would that matter after tonight? Or at the end of their seven days?
“I—What’s this? What’s happening?”
Vistri forced herself to ignore the helplessness in his voice; hold tight onto her regret and push it down. There was no turning back. It already cost too much to catch the faintest glimpse.
She found the most monstrous things inside his head, but Astarion wasn’t the horror. His memories were cracked and quivering, living right at the forefront of his mind. Vistri travelled along their strings and found a hand wrapped around them in the form of dark eyes, commanding him. Feed.
Feed on the rat.
The memory was shame, and it twisted his face. Astarion grimaced as if stabbed, and Vistri hated herself in a way she never had before.
More than a command, that sinister voice was like another brain willing one's body to move. Vistri could feel Astarion's teeth, her teeth, sinking into a struggling rat, body twisting as it shrieked. She choked on the feeling of its fur on her own tongue, as viscerally as if it sat there now. She felt its bones break under her bite. Pangs of disgust and unmet need mixed up together into a particular form of sickness. Astarion was starving, and her rising empathy fueled her rage rather than quelled it. The gnaw at his core was a nightmare Vistri would never forget.
“You ate animals because you were forced to,” she spat bitterly, “Not because you wanted to.”
“I—Yes,” there was no point in denying it after all she’d seen, “Yes, I ate whatever disgusting vermin my master picked.”
Astarion spoke with a wave of vengeful revulsion, his glare and tone defensive wounds that made her stomach hurt to witness. Vistri felt like she wanted to bite someone almost as much as he did. Having nowhere to put it made her restless. So she shook her hands to rid them of magical impulses, a nervous habit of hers, “Fuck!”
“Once again, if we could lower our voices.”
“That’s horrible, Astarion!”
What sort of cruel joke was she playing at? Vistri looked sincere enough, Astarion would give her that, but why on Toril would she care? His brows knotted suspiciously.
He seemed a little confused, but Vistri thought that was understandable. Maybe he didn’t know it was horrible and was hearing it out loud for the first time. She’d been there before herself.
“Believe me, I’m well-acquainted with how horrible it all was.”
Vistri froze. Astarion couldn’t be reading her mind, could he? She pulled out her go-to check for such a spell and conjured a graphic image in her mind’s eye. In as much detail as she could manage, Vistri pictured the biggest, bulgiest, veiniest, drippiest penis she could think of. Nothing pretty about it, just vaguely unsettling and truly shocking. As she held that image, she squinted at Astarion and picked apart every aspect of his expression.
She found only sadness there. Invisible bruises, hit again and again, covered his face once she knew to look for them. There was no hint indicating he shared her conjured horror; only an agonized recollection. It didn’t just absolve him, it made Vistri feel quite terrible for thinking of a horrible penis just then.
And if he was really reading her mind… Well… I’m so sorry.
Without acknowledging her mental apology, Astarion spoke again, “So you can see why I’m slow to trust you.”
Especially if she was going to keep poking around his mind without asking. Astarion had been so ready to be rid of her just to hide the whole vampire thing, and now both that and Cazador were out of the bag in the space of one mistake. His own memories played through her head, and for some reason he couldn’t touch hers at all.
“But I do trust you,” he lied, “And you can trust me.”
Vistri paused, gathered herself, and met his deception with one of her own, “I do. I believe you.”
The grins on their faces hissed like snakes. Neither called it out, willingly entering a folie à deux. Both were desperate to believe the lies they told, each other's and their own. In a fucked up way only the two of them could manage, it turned into its own type of trust. It wasn’t real, but it was there.
For as long as they both agreed on its existence.
“Thank you,” Astarion sounded genuine and even tipped his head.
Vistri nodded back, you’re welcome.
But Astarion wasn’t done yet. The ache still rumbled through him, making his mouth water.
“Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” he asked carefully with a flourish of his hand.
Vistri raised her brows.
“I only need a taste,” he cajoled, “I swear.”
The pounding in her ears started up again. He offered a thrill she’d never tried before. A vampire. People usually didn’t come back from one of those bites, did they? It was never only just a taste, was it?
“Fine. But not a drop more than you need,” she agreed despite her best intentions.
Astarion sounded a bit shocked, “Really? I—Of course.”
The fact that even he was surprised Vistri said yes was a red flag she was fully aware of. She was very aware. If magic whispered under her skin, self-destructive impulses shouted through it.
“Not one drop more,” he promised, elation breaking through his measured voice. He still couldn’t believe she said yes; that it had been that easy. No one had ever known him for what he was and offered themselves anyway. Maybe he didn’t have to get rid of her after all.
Maybe he didn’t want to.
For Vistri, it was the ultimate moment of truth. She was either someone important enough to spare, or this would be her final night. Astarion would either take only as much as she gave, or use her up completely. It was a true test of value; who they were to each other, and who they were as people.
“Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” Astarion offered smoothly, inviting her back to her bedroll with a gesture. If she came to him willing, there was no reason the moment couldn't be a nice one for the both of them. He had no idea what he was doing and found a certain comfort in the familiar role of hospitality.
Vistri glared at him, reading his genuine attempt at kindness as a sort of gloating insincerity. She mumbled as she settled down, “Could have started out this way if you weren’t such a bitch about that boar.”
“I was not!—You’re ruining the atmosphere now, darling.”
“Atmosphere? We’re in the dirt trying not to wake our companions who are also in the dirt.”
Astarion raised a brow, more amused at her antics than vexed, “Bit more premium than the mud, at least. Now lie back.”
They were going to try this again, with her permission this time. Vistri laid back in her bedroll fully prepared for death. She knew her worth and was ready to surrender to it.
Dirt.
Vistri was dirt. Whatever was about to happen would validate that, and it excited her enough to feel something as much as it choked her.
“I’ll haunt you,” she said.
“What?”
“If you kill me. I’ll haunt you.”
“Right.”
As Astarion crawled over Vistri, all he could think was, finally. The pulse in her throat called to him, reaching towards his like a siren diva. A completely brand-new ecstasy was his to savor, and he kept waiting for someone to snatch it away before he could have a taste. Like always.
Still, he waited. Unwilling to cross a line that would make him lose his prize. He let out a low groan, almost a growl, in anticipation of her signal.
Vistri tried to blink away the warmth that spread over her as he hovered above her. It wouldn’t go away.
She gave up and closed her eyes, making a silent bet with herself, “Go on.”
Astarion lunged forward and pierced her neck so fast it was like the punctuation to her sentence.
Vistri anticipated teeth, not mouth. Turns out his fangs were only there for puncture. The rest of it was all lips and tongue and throat. She knew there would be pain, but it was quick and sharp before throbbing into numbness. It was a strange sensation, but not overall unpleasant.
Their life forces seemed to merge at his bite. He flowed into her and through her as he took, like two rivers meeting at a frothing current. Vistri's breath would be rough and laborious if she wasn’t working so intently to be still and quiet.
Good, little prey.
Her heart beat out such a rapid, panicked tune; fighting helplessly in her chest as she gave herself to him with nothing less than a death wish. Astarion longed painfully for a moment like this for two terrible centuries, and it was so much better than he ever dared to dream. Her dragon blood was cool on his tongue, like frosted cream. The silver scales on her face had piqued his curiosity, he’d wondered before how she tasted. Now he was blessed with the knowledge, he was lost in it. Astarion didn’t exist anymore. Just the need.
He swallowed her down.
Vistri began to think that maybe she should probably stop him.
Probably.
Or she could let him continue. Give in entirely until she was all gone…
Astarion never wanted to stop. All performance was cast aside, abandoned with no grace. The only thing left in control was his cursed nature. His tongue eagerly lapped up the blood against her neck with no sign of stopping.
She let him do as he pleased. Wanted to disappear between his lips. Vistri couldn’t tell if there was something narcotic in his bite, or if that was just…
Gods, please don’t let that just be him. She felt her knees shiver, and almost let Astarion have his way.
Then another thought suddenly shouted above all the others. Maybe he couldn’t control himself. He’d said he trusted her, and if that wasn’t a lie, then perhaps he meant for her to stop him before he lost them both.
“That’s enough,” she reluctantly sighed.
Her voice reached Astarion through the dreamy fog.
“Mhh?” he moaned, yes?
He was still lapping her up as he answered, and his question broke over her skin. Vistri twitched and he mistook it for pain.
Excusing himself, he tore away from the bliss of her neck with a courteous, “Oh, of course.”
A chill came over her as his body left hers. The continued pounding of Vistri's heart grounded her in the reality that she was still alive. She’d survived Astarion's favor. Pressing her hand against the wound to stop the bleeding, she felt a sort of glee wash over her.
Standing across from each other, their chests rose and fell. Wanting more.
“That—” his words faltered, overcome by a mixture of ecstatic satisfaction and lingering bloodlust.
Vistri’s stomach flipped. Renewed vigor was palpable in his very energy, and a genuine smile spread over his gloomy face.
“That was…”
She watched him appreciatively smell the mess left on his lips. Then again delight in her taste, sucking his fingers clean of all remnants, one by one.
“Amazing.”
He wore an even wider smile. Everything Vistri was swirled inside her like strong wind.
“My mind is finally clear,” he continued, “I feel strong. I feel…" He took a deep, smiling breath, "Happy!”
That was the first time Vistri ever saw Astarion take such a complete deep breath. She learned that his shoulders sat naturally lower than she previously thought.
And this was her effect on him. Her blood in his veins.
Something about that made her want to taste him right back.
But she refused to give that urge any attention, and spoke to shake it off, “I’m looking forward to seeing you fight.”
He was grateful to her for rooting the moment in something they could actually discuss. Even if he wanted to share every detail that went into the descriptor of amazing, Astarion wasn’t sure he could put into words what this meant to him.
“Shouldn’t take long,” he smirked, “So many people need killing.”
And Vistri wasn’t one of them.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he bowed, “You’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.”
It was true, Astarion was plagued with a lingering hunger, having abided by the bounds of Vistri's consent and stopping before he was satisfied. But what really set his feet jittering was the real weight of all these brand-new feelings. No wonder Cazador kept his spawn apart from thinking prey. Even a little taste of all that life brought back so much of what he’d stolen.
“Wait!” Vistri called out as he turned to strut away into the forest.
They bumped into each other as he twirled back around.
“Sorry,” they both said.
Astarion stepped back. She didn’t.
“Um,” she gestured at her face, “You have…”
He could feel her breasts brushing against his chest, and blinked as if that would help him to ignore it.
“What?” he asked quite shortly.
With an unsure gesture, Vistri reached up to his mouth. Even though she went slowly, questioningly, it was faster than explaining. At least in her current, near-speechless state. She asked with her eyes if she could get closer, and he answered with his own to inch closer, even though they were narrowed and suspicious.
Astarion jumped slightly at her touch but allowed Vistri to wipe her finger along the corner of his grin.
“Little bit of blood,” she murmured, and cleared her throat.
She held up her smeared finger in demonstration, and Astarion had to stop himself from grabbing it and licking it clean.
“Oh,” he said, “My, my! I have made a mess, haven’t I?”
Vistri didn’t know what to say, so she mirrored his smirk. But she didn’t want to just stand there smiling like someone thick, so she rushed herself to say something clever. Which came out thick, “Nothing that takes more than a little wipe.”
He had no idea what she was talking about and just needed to leave, “Right. Well—”
She was standing so close. He could still sense her pulse, smell the blood clotting on her neck. The demons inside him were screaming to tear her apart. Astarion had to get away, but he was held in place.
Vistri was looking at him with such a mix of emotion that it made her a riddle.
Why didn’t she stake him? Why did she let him sup? Trust him at the risk of her life?
Astarion’s eyes travelled from her neck to her lips. Now that he’d had a taste of her throat, he found himself desperately curious about all her other parts.
His stare made Vistri tremble even more than she had in the gods’ damned mind flayer pod! Which was ridiculous! She’d long ago sworn off aristocratic types. The fourth night into an illithid transformation was not the right time to fall of that wagon!
“Off you go!” she playfully pushed Astarion towards the trees, needing him out of sight. She'd normally leave herself, but had nowhere else to go besides her bedroll a few paces from where they now stood.
He obliged, but suddenly turned once more to thank her. Which crashed them into each other again.
This time, they both took a big leap back. Instead of apologizing, they shared a brief look and let out a pressure value-laugh.
Astarion became serious for a moment. His voice sounded softer and stronger than she knew it could be.
“This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.”
If she answered with more sincerity, they'd both choke.
“Wouldn’t dare let you,” she smirked.
He returned it, then left Vistri alone to nurse her aching neck.
She could still feel his mouth on her skin, and her breathing hadn’t yet stilled. Shit. Now that Astarion was out of sight, she felt her bones calling him back. Vistri shut her eyes tight, willing the wanting to go away.
If it was kind, it would just go away.
There was something bittersweet about how the raw power Astarion now harnessed depended on Vistri’s kindness. A proper hunt would surely be more satisfying. The woods were full of treasure, but they felt empty. So many bodies slumbered in the shadows, but the one he truly sought was in the other direction.
It didn’t matter that she was the first person he ever drank from and had nothing to compare her to. Perhaps it was instinct, but he already knew that nothing else out there could match the fine, exquisite vintage that was her.
Astarion explained it away as just the dragon blood. It wasn’t tied to that drow at all.
It couldn’t be.
v---v v---v v---v v---v v---v
Big moment, that following morning was. Pleasantly enough, none of the others tried to drive a stake through Astarion’s heart upon learning his true nature. Nor did Vistri suddenly change her mind and call for a mob. She even stood up for him. Showed a suspicious amount of understanding.
But that’s how she’d always survived.
A bit of kindness tinged with charm, and lying back, goes a long way.
Astarion seemed the happiest that Vistri had ever seen him. Although, to be fair, they’d journeyed together less than a tenday, and not under the most pleasant circumstances. She’d seen him smile, but not like that. Not like the way he’d been smiling since—
His lips on her neck…
“Augh!” Vistri exclaimed, walking unannounced into Shadowheart’s tent, “I feel like a ripe pile of shit!”
“Were you raised in a barn?!” Shadowheart cried, startled and put out by her new friend’s sudden appearance.
“No, the Underdark—But that’s not important right now,” Vistri answered, too obsessed at the moment to exchange a bit of back and forth, “We don’t have time for an ethics debate.”
“An ethics debate? You just barged into my tent!”
“Because I needed to talk to you!” she explained, as if that answered everything sufficiently.
“I swear, if you hadn’t saved my life…”
“I know, I know! I’m insufferable. Do you have wine?”
“It is just passed sunrise.”
“Yes, and I’m very thirsty.”
Somehow, Shadowheart’s exasperated refusal to indulge her self-destructive habits prompted Vistri to spill everything. How she never felt anything.
How much she felt last night.
“You like the vampire?”
Vistri looked as if Shadow had just spat in her face, and protested, “I do not!”
While she had her crisis at Shadowheart, Astarion was literally skipping through the woods. He couldn’t remember a day where he felt better than he did this morning. With her blood flowing through him, giving back life.
Was this what it felt like to be Vistri? he found himself musing, watching the dapple of shadows dance across his hands as the sunlight trickled through the trees.
Which was a very ironic conclusion for him to draw, considering that she was just now sobbing wildly on Shadowheart’s awkward shoulder.
But Vistri never let him inside her mind despite pushing into his, not after that first initial taste; when they met on the ground in his arms, while his blade pressed into her. Too much was happening then for Astarion to really notice anything, and he only felt a hint of someone else before she instinctually shut her mind off from his. They’d shared a memory, but it was like the directions of a play read aloud, not the feelings of an actor emoted through their eyes.
It piqued his curiosity now that he spent a little time in her company. Had a taste of her.
And like a cat discovering a closed door, he was suddenly possessed by the need to pry it open.
Turns out, things were working out for Astarion better than he could have ever imagined. He could get used to his luck turning around like this. Not only did the rest of his companions accept that he was a vampire without much complaint, Vistri offered to let him feed again.
Before he accepted, it was important for Astarion to make clear that nothing would ever happen again without her say so. He could be better than Cazador ever was—wanted to be better.
“I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together.”
Vistri could feel heat rising in her face. Cheesy little comments of his like that previously grated on her nerves, and now she wanted to giggle.
What the fuck was wrong with her? Did she really want him? Could she really… imagine that as a possibility?
“But until then: No more late-night surprises, you have my word on that,” he promised. Rather sincerely, actually.
It was probably due to some vampiric thrall she must be under, but Vistri decided to trust his words. Every night could be its own test, and a sick part of her hoped he’d break his vow. That he’d prove it was all good to be true; show her who she really was. Prove that neither of them were worth it.
“Thank you,” she said, biting her lip, “And if you don’t mind, I have a vow of my own to exchange.”
“Oh?”
“Pushing into your mind… I wasn’t sure if you were going to kill me, but in finding out, I also… That was for you to save or tell. Not for me to find out. Not like that. I swear I’ll never do it again. Not without asking first.”
Astarion looked a bit devastated; shook it off with a smirk, and then said, “We’re even.”
Vistri was taken aback, “Even?”
“I've only tried to stab you when we first met, and bite you while you’ve slept. A little wriggling around with my mind worm… Well, you’re not better than me after all! In fact, you’re just like me.”
She smiled and looked at her feet, “I wouldn’t go as far as that.”
Even the teasing mention of closeness was too much for Vistri to endure, and she hated him for it.
So of course she didn’t want to appear too eager! She waited a whole other day before proposing another late-night snack. Astarion took it to be a reward for his good behavior; not coming back for seconds before he was asked.
The anticipation ate at them even worse after they agreed it would happen that night, and it itched at them all day. Unfortunately, Astarion was a bit of a stress-eater, and quite literally bit off more than he could chew with a large bear that evening before they met up. Draining it just barely replaced what he'd lost, which left him punch drunk and dizzy from his own bloodlessness. Their fun was put off for another night.
Much to the vexation of both.
He didn’t want to wake her that second time, not because he didn’t want her to be present, but because he was doing his best not to be an inconvenience. Vistri wasn’t offended either; he was so obviously sure he was doing her a favor. Oh, but she wanted to be awake for it! Not asleep, not in trance, but there feeling his—
Shit. Bad thoughts! No, no, no.
It was nothing. He meant nothing. She was nothing but a source of sustenance. Vistri had a purpose, and that was that.
She was food.
But then… So was that bandit earlier. Now he was food. Astarion drunk him dry with little grace. Ripped his screaming throat from out of his neck, and the spray went everywhere! Tonight he would gently creep up to her in the dark, at her behest, and take only a little while trying his best not to cause her to stir. It was quite the contrast.
That bandit was a meal. Vistri was a treat.
Then what was this even all for?
Vistri shooed away her curiosity before it meant she had to answer that question herself.
Waiting impatiently in her bedroll, eyes shut tight, Vistri could feel her heart pounding as if it was berating her for their present circumstances.
Oh, hush! she thought, arguing back.
This wasn’t her best performance, pretending to be in the midst of trance as she was. Her focus was elsewhere, searching for his presence through her pores. Her mind froze when Astarion finally began to approach. Even without seeing, she knew he was there; could feel his proximity before he touched her. The very air changed around him, like a storm cloud. Her senses filled with something herbal and sweet, then brandy and heat as his chest crept over hers.
She held her breath, even though deep breathing was the telltale sign of trance. Vistri thought he caught her, sensing him pause for a moment. Then she reasoned she was probably making that up.
But she didn’t. He did pause. Not because he noticed she wasn’t breathing, but because he still wasn’t quite sure this was all really happening. Not just some mad trick of the tadpole.
He swallowed and let himself lean carefully down, until his body pressed into hers. He could feel her heart beating frantically, but in his distraction, it didn’t give her away. Astarion just took it as a sign she was alive. That this really was all real.
His lips met her neck before his fangs. Vistri held back a shiver, taking a deep breath against it. She stifled a moan as one hummed quietly in Astarion’s throat. She could feel it vibrate on hers, neck to neck. Feel her life and power flow into him and through him. Power. Pleasure.
It was palpable.
Astarion’s tongue moved against her skin, swallowing her.
She even lost herself for a moment. As her mind flew blissfully away, her fingers, those sluts, found their way up into his curls.
Her hands grasped the sides of his head. Vistri wasn’t trying to push him away, she just needed to brace herself against the loss of gravity. Astarion didn’t even notice at first. It just felt like part of the whole thing. It was her sudden movement as she jerked them back that brought his attention to her wakefulness.
“Are you not in your trance?” he asked in the crook of her neck.
“No,” she answered with her eyes still closed, “Do you want me to be?”
She was truly the most curious thing to him. Was she pretending to be in a trance to please him? While allowing him to drink from her? Who does that? Astarion smirked, shaking his head, “I thought you’d prefer…”
Vistri opened her eyes and looked into his. She’d been warned her whole life about elves with red eyes.
“No, I—” she blushed, “I mean, it’s quite fun. Is it not?”
“It is?”
Curiouser and curiouser.
She nodded.
“Well, that’s nice to hear.”
“Do you want to-?” Vistri gestured to her neck.
“Right, yes,” Astarion said, clearing his throat. Regaining his cool, he slyly suggested, “Why don’t you crawl into my lap?”
Vistri couldn’t breathe.
Her non-answer was a glorious victory. Astarion could tell he had an effect, a sway over her somehow. He tilted his head back, smiling with confidence, “You do want it, don’t you?”
Lightheaded, Vistri gave in and sat across his knees. Grinning, Astarion grabbed her up into his arms and dipped her dramatically with a slight growl. Vistri giggled, too loudly, and he cupped a hand over her mouth.
He shushed her, “Be still now.”
First, he brought his lips back to her throat. Then his tongue. Then his fangs.
A moan escaped Vistri this time. One, warm hand cradled the back of her neck as he drank from the front of it.
He promised it would be just a taste, and it was just a taste. She didn’t even have to hold him back this time. Astarion stopped on his own accord, before she was ever in any real danger.
When she opened her eyes, Astarion had stars in his. Just a little bit of her, and he was an entirely new person.
Self-satisfied, Vistri grinned, “You’re welcome.”
Sitting up, her head swayed forward like a drunkard and almost smashed into his skull.
“Oh, there you go,” he muttered, steadying her.
Vistri looked up at him, her face so close to his. “I’m okay,” she answered before he could ask.
“Don’t try to get up just yet. You’ll take another tumble, and who knows if I’m feeling generous enough to catch you again.”
“Bastard,” she laughed weakly.
Vistri could smell her blood on his breath. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes so the only thing in existence was the scent lingering between them. She couldn’t imagine liking this so much with anyone el—She shot up so fast, suddenly standing to escape those thoughts.
“Careful!”
Astarion must have been feeling generous because he caught her a second time.
“Oops,” she said, embarrassed.
“You ought to take better care of yourself, darling. I’m invested now.” Funny thing, that wasn't even a lie. He'd never met someone like her before.
Vistri met his grin with performative suspicion, “How heartening.”
Astarion's eyes followed the words as they bounced off her lips. He smiled realizing they were perfectly painted instead of washed clean.
She either swayed or leaned closer. Even Vistri couldn't tell if it was blood loss or an intentional inching of her feet.
“You look a bit peaked,” Astarion said nervously.
“Yes,” Vistri sighed, standing so near, “Off to bed I go.”
Even the air between them pounded. They stayed very still. His breath turned into her breath.
Then Astarion broke the spell, stepping back with narrowed eyes, “Sweet dreams, then.”
“Sweet dreams.”
But there were no dreams.
Just forbidden thoughts that ran endlessly through their minds, until even their muscles ached.
[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]
#vistarion#kinktober 2023#absurdthirst kinktober list#prompt fill#vistri#astarion#bg3#baldurs gate 3#full fic#astarion x tav#tav x astarion#you were my first fic#BrishFics#angst#smut#lime
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hi doli this is a yap pass you know the drill :333
i figure everybody needs one every once in a while
- ash
YEAH OKAY WOOHOOOO I LOVE YAP PASSES
we are up thinking about dally. again. as always. most specifically sh dally TRUTH. god i love 'taboo' hcs...but also dally and johnny's entire dynamic as it is so honestly ill start with that first because looordddd do i have THOUGHTS.
tw// sh and suicide!! im yapping about dally be warned
okay so obviously we know johnny is 'obsessive,' but i think some people forget that if we take into account what the fuck happrned, dally is equally - if not more - obsessive as johnny is. I think they both just demonstrate it differently than each other. Johnny shows it in a more straightforward, 'worshipping,' way, but dally demonstrates it in a more discreet way I guess? Its discreet until the end at least, i mean he literally killed himself for johnny🤷♀️
what i find interesting about their dynamic though is that it in no way could be healthy. that is mutual obsession at its FINEST and it can. NOT. end well. One dies, the other dies. One leaves, the other is ruined, if not both of them ruined. Problem with this is one of them is bound to die in every universe. Usually, if any were to die first, it would be Dally. Hell, he was close to snapping by the time johnny died anyway, i dont think he wouldve lasted long even if johnny lived. Bit the problem with this is thag if dally died first, johnny would probably feel like an empty shell of a person if you get what i mean? Like, Dally was one of the things Jonny loved, but he loved him the hardest. Johnny loved ponyboy, but in a different way than he loved Dally. And im not just talking about the fhance of romantic love either. No, im talking about idolization and putting each other on a pedestal. For johnny, this pedestal isnt fragile, it would take a lot to break. But i think for dally, hes holding johnny higher than the rest, yeah, but it doesnt take much for that pedestal to crumble.
So, back to what i said earlier, dally was one of the things johnny loved, but johnny was the only thing dally loved. Recipe for disaster. Johnny loved him and idolized him, dally thought of him as a purpose to keep going. I mean, Dally really didnt know how to handle his emotions at all and he saw himself as someone who had to protect johnny. (i know thats a big reason on why he reacted the way he did.) He thought he failed and whatnot, but that also doesnt excuse the fact they blatantly favored each other over most of the gang(exception being ponyboy, but even then i dont think johnny favored either.)
In short, dally was a mess who couldnt handle emotions and instead of figuring out his own brain and traumas, decided to take to johnny and do his best to protect him because hes like, the one person who doesnt hold a grudge against Dallas. I have hcs and whatnot about why he got drawn to johnny(like he saw himself in the kid, even if he was only a year older, but that aint canon so🤷♀️.)
Their dynamic fucks me up so hard and in tired of pretending they would be healthy. they wouldnt!! they would be HORRIBLE for each other!!! they would feed into each others obsession, probably get extremely jealous over each other, and they would be completely unaware about how bad they are together. Yes, they are portrayed as a duo, but dallys way of dealing with his struggles is ignoring them til he snaps. Johnnys way of dealing with his is also ignoring them until he snaps.
They both showed that they at least had suicidal thoughts and again, if someone ended up killing themself, it would br a punch to the gut for the other. This is IGNORING the constant worrying that would be going on that the other is in danger, the other may have killed themself, the other hates them, etc etc. They both demonstrated suicidal thoughts. they both demonstrates obsessive behavior. put those two togetehr and youre getting the worst of both worlds. Im not even gonna get into what woukd happen if someone DID end up killing themself because thag would be a violent circle of self hatred and guilt for whoever lived if not an immediate death. For johnny i think he would try and live on but constantly blame himself that it was his fault he died, or he would instantly follow after him. With dally, he would get mad. oh he would br a ball of anger and hate and he would snap much like he did in the movie, if not worse. I think hr would also blame himself for the reasoning AND the fact that he wasnt enough for johnny, difference being he would probably end up dying an hour after he got the news.
Alrighty, time for sh dally truth now because this man is the embodiment of self destruction and i think there is no way he wouldnt have at least TRIED it. This is partly me projecting my own problems onto characters but also i genuinely think its in his character to actually do it, yknow? Part of me thinks he would do it to seem tough, that he can handle pain and he would ise that as an excuse to keep going cause no ones stopping him. The other part of my brain is saying that he would do it as a genuine coping mechanism or the desire to feel pain.
From firsthand experience im saying..neither! Im seeing it as a way for him to get an adrenaline rush, if not for a little bit of pain/'punishment.' Most of his reckless behavior is, from what i see, the result of getting bored. He sees normal living and to him its boring. He wants to shake shit up and start problems and rven then, he gets bored of that too. Eventually, he's bound to run out of things to give him that rush of adrenaline anymore and yk. sh is just there. its new, it lets him get an 'adrenaline rush' for the time being and then he'll stop. Then he does it again, then he stops, and its a cycle until surprise surprise, it turns into a comfort more than anything!
Instead of getting an adrenaline rush for a little, it calms him down and he realizes he likes that WAY more. add in his already self destructive nature i doubt he'd see much wrong with it, too. Just as a thing he does to 'calm down.' I dont even think hed have a 'main form.' Cvtting, burning, whatever, i dont think hed use one more than the other. Whatever he can get his hands on in that moment is fair game.
I could go more into the psych of it all if i wanted but im summing it up to a subconscious need to feel pain accompanied by an addiction and a false sense of euphoria. I also have a lot of ideas about the gang finding out and either being extremely concerned or chalking jt up to 'yeah, thats dally.' because they know they wouldnt be able to do jack shit to stop him. so yeah. youre welcome for the yap
#dolirants#asks#lordy im so sorry for this this is long asf AHAHDBBF#tw long post#dally<3#jally<3#my hcs
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Long ass stream of consciousness post about my opinions on every fight in Record of Ragnarok so far:
Spoilers for Record of Ragnarok up to Round 9:
Round 1: Thor vs Lu Bu
Pretty decent fight overall, I genuinely couldn't guess who was going to win at first and though Lu Bu's death felt a bit anticlimatic at the end, with him getting his head smashed in by a hammer after all the build-up he had about being the strongest and most badass human and all that. But overall a good fight, I liked Thor and Lu Bu about equally so I was sad but not too sad after it was all said and done.
Round 2: Adam vs. Zeus
I was really hoping for Adam to win, naturally, but I had a feeling Zeus was going to take it because there's no way they would kill off the main villain that quick (and honestly, I don't think anyone else is gonna replace Zeus as the main villain, so to speak, even if there are other gods doing random evil scheming and shit in the background.) The fighting itself was good, though, it was the most straightforward slugfest of them all, no fluff, no frills, just two dudes beating the hell out of each other until one of them ran out of gas in the tank.
Round 3: Kojiro vs. Poseidon
Hoo boy, this was my favorite fight so far, and not only because it was one of the only two fights where the guy I wanted to win most won. I like how much of an asshole Poseidon was right off the bat and how Kojiro didn't let Poseidon get to him at all, despite Poseidon being portrayed as one of the more frightening gods, Kojiro didn't back down and give up, he kept on pushing through and in the end he took it. The moment Kojiro sliced and diced Poseidon like sushi, I literally leapt off my couch and accidentally threw my phone on the ground I was so hype (I watched the anime before reading the manga.)
Round 4: Heracles vs. Jack
I had mixed feelings about this one, because obviously I lean more towards wanting humanity to win but also, I never really liked Jack, and I still don't care for him. He's just there to me, and he does nothing for me. I disliked him a lot in the beginning but now he's just, idk, whatever. I liked Heracles and wanted to see more of him but I had a feeling he was probably going to die because he was portrayed as being much nicer than his opponent while Jack was portrayed as a cunning, crafty trickster, and in most fighting anime/manga series, the fighter who relies more on cunning or sneaky tricks almost always beats the guy who relies more on strength or raw power.
Round 5: Raiden vs. Shiva
I wanted Raiden to take it so bad, Raiden cracked me up from the moment I first saw him lying naked on a bed with a bunch of random women of all sorts of random species, snoring his ass off like it was just a regular fucking Tuesday (no pun intended,) and his introduction scene made me start howling with laughter at his absolute unfiltered horny crackhead energy, plus I love how he was genuinely fond of Thrud from the moment he laid eyes on her and it tugged at my heart strings when he wanted to break their bond at the end so she could live but she chose to die with him anyways because she didn't want to leave him. But of course, given who and what Shiva is, obviously the outcome was as predictable as could be, as there's no fucking way they'd ever kill off Shiva in a fictional series, otherwise you'd have like 2 billion people out for blood and it's pretty damn obvious why.
Round 6: Buddha vs. Zero
Plot wise and thematically, I enjoyed this fight a lot, but it was pretty predictable, because as I mentioned for Round 5, there's a very obvious reason why they would never let Buddha lose, plus Buddha's the one who invented the volund strategy that even allows humans to be able to fight against gods in the first place. That said, I like Buddha as a character even if he's not much like the actual real Buddha, and I'm glad he won. However, Zero having to die really broke my heart, Zero was such a kind, sweet, innocent little guy and I cried a little harder than I'd like to admit when he died. Of course, it also doesn't help that Zero may not have even been a willing participant in the fight in the first place, given his various issues that he'd been dealing with plus the fact that given how he seems much younger than the other gods, it's possible that he might not have even been an adult by their standards and the idea of a child (possibly a young teenager,) fighting in a fight-to-the-death tournament is one that just doesn't sit right with me. That said, I have many opinions about Buddha and Zero, way more than I could fit into a single post, and I'm glad we got to see both of them for the time that we did, and even though I'll always be bummed that we'll never get to see Zero again, I'm glad he was there and I'm glad that in the end even though he died, he was able to return back to his un-corrupted self after his fight with Buddha.
Round 7: Hades vs. Qin
I honestly didn't have much opinions about this fight. For whatever reason, I could never make myself care much about either Hades and Qin as characters and while I appreciate that Hades cared about his brothers, I also don't care for the Greek gods much as a whole, and the rest of them besides Hades annoy me to some degree (especially Poseidon and to a lesser degree Apollo,) and Qin just has way too much going on to the point where he feels more like a collection of as many tropes as someone could fit into a single character packed together in a trenchcoat like a bunch of little kids standing on each other's backs and wearing a big coat to try to disguise themselves as an adult. I had a feeling Qin was probably going to win, but I couldn't really be bothered to care either way, although I did find it odd that Hades would lose to a human-if you had me guess which gods would beat a human no questions asked before I actually started the series, I would have definitely included Hades on that list because I mean, he's the god of death and the underworld, those titles carry a lot of weight.
Round 8: Tesla vs. Beelzebub. I had/have some problems with some of the previous rounds but hoo boy, Round 8 was a disaster. Tesla was given absolutely no prep time to even figure out what to do (and though you could argue the same for other fighters, it's only really relevant for Tesla because he's the only human fighter who was a non-combatant besides Jack, and Jack was already established as a sneaky son of a bitch who will find a way to trick anyone, so he didn't need any prep time.) Including Tesla on the roster was a very odd choice to begin with, and though I like Tesla as a character, I have very mixed feelings about how they handled him fighting. Also, Beelzebub-don't get me started on him. I haven't hated a character this much since Sasuke from Naruto, and to be honest, of the two of them, I think I hate Beelzebub more. Even just having Beelzebub be in the story at all pisses me off, and seeing him kill Tesla after what he did to Zero was one of the few moments in this series that just genuinely pissed me off.
Round 9: Somehow worse than Round 8, which I didn't think was possible. Leonidas hardly got any focus, his backstory was basically just an abbreviated re-telling of the movie 300 and he only got 3 hits on Apollo (granted, those 3 hits were apparently enough to bring Apollo to death's door, but still,) Leonidas had so much wasted potential it pissed me off. Apollo annoys me for various personal reasons and his sudden reveal that "Oh, he's actually not an arrogant preening prick with his head shoved up his ass," halfway through the fight felt so forced it was like a random ass-pull that just came out of nowhere. Leonidas basically didn't get to do much of anything besides be a disposable punching bag for Apollo for 5 fucking chapters and then Apollo's like "Oh, you (and Geirolul) were the peak of beauty." and somehow we're supposed to believe they just suddenly started liking each other out of nowhere. The whole fight felt sloppy and incomplete, like the authors just ran out of fucks to give and wanted to rush it and get through it as fast as possible to move onto Round 10, which I won't get into now for many, many, reasons that would take way, way too long to explain on this post.
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So I think it's pretty well established that one of the biggest sins of Lloyd and Alicia's relationship is that they just don't interact enough to justify them being endgame.
So imagine an au where Suho get's transmigrated into the body of a palace servant instead of Lloyd Frontera. He'd still be forced to work hard and bust out his civil engineering knowledge to make money because I assume palace servants are mostly paid in room & board. But of course Alicia would notice this talent and want to keep him close. And since Suho doesn't have a Barony to go back to, he has no reason to turn down her jobs as long as she keeps paying him. (This is going off of the novel's characterization of her where she tells Lloyd that she isn't a tyrant and won't force him to work if he doesn't want to).
Plus I'm positive she suffers from Swordmaster Syndrome like Javier, so Suho would definitely offer her his lullaby service in order to gain some sort of leverage over her as well. There could even be rumors that the two are actually sleeping together and that's why Suho keeps getting jobs and titles. It would be really funny if whatever body Suho transmigrated into was just as plainfaced as Lloyd and the entire court is throwing a tantrum over it. Especially if Alicia is completely unbothered by it as she has spent her entire life surrounded by stupid and petty rumors. And since anything relating to romance is one of the few things that can fluster Suho, I could see him being secretly bothered by these rumors, even though he tries to hide it. This could then force Alicia to grow an empathy bone and help this man she has genuinely grown to trust and care about, and maybe even love.
As their relationship and level of trust progresses, I think it would be different enough from Lloyd's relationship with Javier to be interesting. Where Lloyd has to reestablish, for lack of a better word, trust with Javier and then prove that he would make first a good lord and then a good friend (and lover lol). Whereas with Alicia Suho would not only have to prove himself to her, but also overcome the huge power imbalance and status between the two of them. That could actually be a great way to visualize how close their growing as Suho rises in noble status to become closer and closer to her equal.
Speaking of Javier, if the restoration of fate is still a threat he might wind up being one of the main protagonists. Because Suho wasn't transmigrated into LLoyd, he wouldn't have saved the Barony so Javier begins his journey as the lone protagonist destined to lose virtually everyone and everything he ever loved. But also Suho wasn't there to build up his trust with him, so when Javier learns that either he or Suho has to die or else the entire continent is screwed, he has no reason to believe that Suho isn't some loose cannon threat. But by this point he has gained the trust with Alicia and there is no way she is letting Javier kill the man she loves. Maybe she orders Javier's execution/suicide, but would the other nobles/kingdoms allow that after Javier has spent years as a wandering hero? So now Suho is left with three options; 1. Die, 2. Somehow find a way to kill the most overpowered man in history, 3. Let everyone he knows and loves die, mostly at the hands of the woman he loves the most.
god. when are you dropping the fic again.
this is a way more compelling way to make me interested in alloyd than anything bk moon ever wrote. what the hell.
personally i cannot handle the idea of lloyd and javier not being close in any way shape or form it literally doesn't compute in my head but. this is so fucking good i can ignore the screeching little gremlin in my brain.
just a comment, i don't think alicia suffers from swordmaster syndrome. she's already a swordmaster by the time the novel starts, she probably powered through her insomnia and then learned how to shut down her augmented senses to fall asleep just like javier expected to be able to do when he became a swordmaster. javier just had the misfortune of becoming reliant on the lullaby service and then was unable to quit it once he already experienced it. alicia didn't rely on it before she was swordmaster and so suho wouldn't have been able to leverage it against her once she was.
but everything else is fucking amazing i love it <3
#hey i got an ask#appledawn3464-blog#tged#the greatest estate developer#lloyd frontera#alicia magentano#alloyd
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Fuck it, I’m rewriting this to be more canon complainant. I like it though, so I’ll just rewrite the scenes to fit the new storyline. Yall can have this unfinished bit cause I really don’t have the heart to finish it knowing imma rewrite it rn, so be left in suspense.
CW/TW: Copious angst, Bhaalspawn typical violence, hurt with a little bit of comfort but mostly hurt, slight sh ig but it’s not like, a thing, feel like I should still warn yall tho. Fic ends REALLY ABRUPTLY, IM SORRY.😭😭😭
Enjoy lmfao
Today was not a good day. Rhyse had been lightly ignoring Gortash for weeks; it wasn’t his fault, this time. You see, the two had been allied for somewhere around 3 years, quite a significant amount of time for Rhyse. Gortash was the first person that his father, the god Bhaal, had allowed him to be this close too…. well.. allowed was a strong word. Bhaal tolerated the two, or, at least, he did.
Rhyse first noticed it weeks ago, his Urges getting stronger around the tyrant, even after he’s more than satisfied his kill quota, and his nightmares were worse, more… real, almost threatening for Gortash to end up like his long gone adopted family. He suspected his father was punishing him for getting nowhere with the heist, to steal the Crown of Karsus, in weeks. (A plan the two were not so subtly elongating. The truth was, the two quite enjoyed the comfort the added time together had brought them, though, neither would openly admit it.)
He got his confirmation around a week ago, plain as day, from Bhaal himself. ‘Gortash was no longer beneficial to the cult, kill him’. Rhyse, of course, tried to refute, pleaded, their plan for ‘The Absolute’ had only just begun. He spoke of the souls it would bring his father, he hadn’t forgotten about their grand plan, he promised. It would still be him alone in the end, and then none, but until then let him live.
Bhaal would hear none of it, and frankly, Rhyse was terrified. He knew his father would have to see reason eventually, he wanted Orin, his sister, gone too, before Rhyse found a use for her. No, Rhyse was afraid that by the time his father would even hear him out, his tyrant would be long gone.
It was killing Rhyse to ignore Gortash’s letters, delivered to his windowsill by his Crow, Carrion, or even into Rhyse’s head through the sending spell, and Gortash hated using sending spells, he was clearly growing more desperate, the letter’s contents were getting more sporadic.
Rhyse knew he needed to confront the man head on, he wasn’t sure how bad his urges would be affecting him, but from previous experience… well, Rhyse didn’t like dwelling on the past. No, best to meet with Gortash now, while he is still, mostly, in his right mind.
Rhyse takes no weapons with him, but he doubted it would matter, his bare claws would be more than enough to take care of Gortash, he just hoped the tyrant had enough sense to properly defend himself. Rhyse scratches his Direwolf, Marrow, as he leaves, but he would not dare bring the beast with him. A ranger’s companion has a unique bond with the ranger's soul, it can fein death as long as the ranger is alive, but in exchange, it also gets some of the bhaalspawn’s… quirks. He knows from experience the urges affect his precious companion too, and he wasn’t willing to risk Gortash’s life over it.
Rhyse arrived at Gortash’s estate not long before noon, as he misty stepped into Gortash’s office with no sound more than a click. It took the man a moment to even notice Rhyse was there, his deeply sleep deprived eyes scanning some legal scroll, it’s only until Rhyse flicks his tail against a metal candelabra that Gortash’s eyes shoot up.
“Rhyse!” the man's voice fills with equal amounts of relief and anger, and worry. Rhyse waited to get chewed out by the man, already knowing he definitely deserved most of it. “Where in the Hells have you been!? You haven’t given me so much as a note, a ‘hey by the way I’m not fucking dead’ In weeks! The only thing I had to go off of that you were even receiving anything I was sending was your damned pigeon!” He pauses finally to take a sharp inhale, clearly running out of energy to stay upset, “And- And now you just ‘appear in my office’? Like nothing happened? I expect a damn good explanation from you.” He sighs, and laces his fingers through his obsidian black disaster of a haircut.
“Good to see you too” Rhyse basically collapses in a chair, he sees Gortash’s eyes dart across Rhyse’s body, searching for any insight on the situation.
“Where. Were. You.” Gortash snarls, his eyes narrow on the tiefling.
Rhyse pauses, he can’t exactly tell Gortash ‘Oh hey, funny story, dear old dad wants you dead’ but he can’t bring himself to lie to him, not with the two so ragged, emotions raw and strained, even though lying would be so easy, so simple. They could pretend to be normal, if only for a moment. “I- It’s… It’s complicated, okay?” Rhyse pauses, unsure of what to say. “My urges have been… inconvenient as of late. It was easier this way.”
“Easier!? Rhyse I-” Gortash sighed, and forced himself to relax in his chair, “Gods you are a nightmare sometimes. Just… Just tell me all you can, it’s not good for either of us if you’re ignoring me, so just spit it out.”
Rhyse chuckles slightly, it would be better for both of them, actually. At the very least for the tyrant, and as long as he’s safe, well, Rhyse can deal. He thinks about how to broach the subject with the man, the fragile, horrible truth, that could mean losing him forever. “I- You know how my Father is. He’s… not seeing the bigger picture, currently. But I have a- GH!” Rhyse’s blood goes hot, mind clouded with the overwhelming urge to wrap his claws around Gortash’s throat. He forces his talons to meet his forearms instead, in a futile attempt to subside the rush, to drown it out with pain of his own. “Oh hells” he muttered through gritted teeth, and bowed his head down, squeezed his eyes closed. He could wait it out, he wasn’t going to let his urges get the better of him.
He felt Gortash’s hand lightly trace his bloodstained fingertips, felt some part of himself that wasn’t quite his own growl at the touch, he fought every urge to rip his calloused fingers from his hands. “You weren’t exaggerating.” He said, tone laced with concern, and placed his hand firmly on the Bhaalspawn’s, forcing it to loosen slightly. “Who does your father want dead? It’s not- Hells is it me?”
Rhyse shrinks into himself. “Look I- nothing’s going to happen to you. I can control myself.” He bit back through the bloodlust, the worst of it fading from his mind. Rhyse eased slightly, and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “I don’t know what I’m going to do” he chuckled grimly. Rhyse met Gortash’s eyes, far too calm for their current situation. It would be so much easier if Gortash hated him, feared him. Gortash was the first person he’d allowed himself to get close to since coming to the Bhaal temple, first person that was his, not his fathers. Part of himself agreed with his father, he had gotten soft, but maybe- maybe that wasn’t the worst thing.
“We.” Gortash reminded, “What are we going to do, because you are not going to ignore me like that again.” the man commanded, Rhyse wished he had that kind of confidence.
“Right, We.” He looked away, he wished so desperately the two could be we, be each other’s, but Rhyse belonged to Bhaal, and Gortash to Bane, they weren’t allowed to be any more. “We should work on that heist. It will be easier to convince him once I have concrete proof it’s possible.”
Gortash nodded. “Of course,” he got up from his chair to bring a stack of books and maps to his desk, Gortash grabbing a hefty tome detailing Mephistopilese’s layer, and Rhyse finished a chart of the journey. Neither could find a map of the archive’s insides, but they did find descriptions of hidden passageways, and traps.
Rhyse paused, and moved the map closer to Gortash “You think we could use a spell to get in through this window? Using an Interdimensional Gateway spell possibly?” He examined the map further, it should be old enough to have limited security, but from there they could find a passageway into the inner archives.
“Hm…” Gortash thought for a moment, “Maybe, but what if there’s spell detection? He is a wizard, it would be protected… wouldn’t it?”
“Hah! But that’s the thing!” Rhyse grinned, and he pulled out a tattered journal from the stack, and flipped to a sequence of stitched in notes detailing security protocols. “See here, there’s only portal detection to get into the archives, because over here-” he grabbed the man’s hand and traced it to a small clearing, nearby, separated physically, yes, but near enough that anti magic systems would be counterproductive. “Is where the Archivists mages train. Which means the radius can’t extend farther than about… here.” He uses Gortash’s finger to draw an arc, and points his free hand to a spot just outside of it, “This is where we get inside. I know, don’t thank me.” Rhyse chuckles, proud of his work.
Gortash stared at him, eyes wide “That’s- That’s what we’re missing. You’re Brilliant!”
“We’re brilliant.” He says, quoting the tyrant’s previous words. Neither could’ve gotten anywhere near this close without the other, but together, together they were unstoppable. The two continued like this, bouncing ideas back and forth, enjoying the others' company until nightfall.
“-Anyways, if we use this hidden passageway, this tome says there may be an exit leading right to- Is your tail wagging?” Gortash’s ramble stopped abruptly at the realization. Wait was it?- Gods it was, Rhyse willed his tail to stop.
“I- What are you talking about?” He lied, Gortash was never going to let him live this down, Rhyse knew it.
The man burst into cackling laughter, “Gods, it was! Are you embarrassed?” Gortash sneered.
“Shut the fuck up, not a word.” Rhyse huffed, feigning being upset, holding back his own laughter. For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them in the world, no priorities, no responsibilities, no Orin, or Severok, or Bhaal-
A treacherous thought, immediately punished by a surge of bloodlust. He tried everything in his power to keep it down, keep it under control. “Dammitdammitdammitdammit Fuck!” He fell back from his chair to the cold hard stone, and pushed his back with force into the nearest wall. His vision went blurry and red, his hearing clouded by the rush of his own blood. Claws raked through his raven hair, his breathing grew unsteady, his muscles urged to gut the man open, to hold the heart in his hands and crush it, watch the blood and gore drip down. Stopitstopitstopitstopit, keep it under control, he had too.
“-yse, Rhyse! Rhyse gods damn it!” he heard the tyrant rush over to his side, wasn’t in control of himself when he felt his claws sink into the man's shoulder. “Hey, you’re alright, breathe.” But the Bhaalspawn wasn’t in control of himself. He ripped the coat from the tyrant, and immediately Rhyse saw Gortash’s eyes flash genuine fear. The Urge relished in the man's fright, but it only made Rhyse fight back harder. Rhyse heard the man’s voice waiver as he attempted to comment wittily, but couldn’t even manage that. “I-” The Urge growled and sunk Rhyse’s claws into Gortash’s neck.
Right as he was about to finish the man off, he regained control and stumbled back. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck oh Hells.” He tried to calm his own breathing, but all his immediate attention was on Gortash. Rhyse rushed forward slightly, preparing a cure wounds spell for Gortash, but stopped immediately when he saw the man flinch.
After a second, Gortash sat up and chuckled grimly, unable to meet the Bhaalspawn’s eyes. “Gods, for a moment, I thought I was really going to die.” Gortash allowed himself to be healed. Even without his coat, he was an expert at hiding his emotions, but Rhyse heard his voice elevate, the waver in his words.
“I shouldn’t have come.” Rhyse growled, mostly to himself, how could he have been so stupid, thinking he could fight his own father, his very blood. Once Gortash was healed Rhyse immediately got up to leave, but he felt a hand grab his wrist. “Gortash, let go.”
“You don’t plan on returning, do you? Is this really it? Our plan, everything we’ve built towards, is this really where you want it to end” The tyrant nearly pleaded, it’s unbecoming of a Chosen of Bane. His hidden words, his broken eyes, ask a different question, Is this where we end? Like they ever ‘began’ in the first place, but it nearly made Rhyse break. How could he still care about him? Rhyse nearly killed him.
“Let. Go.” Rhyse snarled. Let go of him, his memory, move on, it will hurt less. Rather cut their losses now, than watch the dagger twist through his ribcage, tears pouring down as the tyrant’s heart stops.
“When do you plan on returning? Because you will return.” He grips the Tieflings wrist tighter, Rhyse could rip that pretty hand off his wrist with no more than a well placed yank.
“Let go. I will not warn you again.” He tugs his arm, but makes no real effort to break free.
Oops, there’s the end :/ I have beef with tumblr for fucking up all my formatting but I’m on mobile so I can’t do anything about it.
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After everything that happened, every councilor lives and every Hackett except for Travis is dead. When the investigation is done and over, the first thing that Travis does is sell all that land. He doesn’t want it, doesn’t care about it, and as soon as the money’s in his account he packs up and leaves North Kill behind.
He finds another small town to be an officer in, to essentially start over in. A year passes. He settles in, kinda. Boxes of unopened things from his family that he took remain in the garage, most of it is Chris and his kids’ things, some of Bobby’s things, some of their father’s, but he let his mother’s shit behind.
A year passes, and suddenly Travis finds the Councilors all at his front door.
In the the first month, it’s just Ryan, under the excuse he wants to just exist with Chris and Caleb and Kaylee’s things that Travis has boxed up in storage. Travis doesn’t even know how the hell the kid found him. But he lets him.
Maybe Laura and Max are next, and he feels a migrane coming on the moment he sees that damn SUV and hears Max’s nickname of ‘T-Money!’ ringing out. Following them, maybe Dylan and Kaitlyn, maybe Abi and Nick, and so on.
It’s tense at first, Travis’ first instinct is to kick all these kids out, but he refrains and lets them set up and stay for however long— they help out around the town, the old ladies ask him how his kids are doing because apparently Dylan has been telling them that they’re all his. He gives the boy a scathing look but says nothing later that night over an absurd amount of pizza boxes and a shitty movie that Jacob found.
For some reason, they stay until August and one by one— or twos and Threes— the kids leave and Travis falls back into his lifestyle.
Then it’s the next summer and Laura and Max show up first, and conversation comes easier, he makes coffee while they chatter and the others trickle onto his property. Laura and Max got engaged, Abi’s going to be featured in an art exhibit, Emma made affiliate (whatever that means), Dylan’s agonizing over next year at college, and so on.
It’s the next year when Travis tells Nick and Abi, who arrived first, to text the others, then to head home, pack up, and come back because lets be honest the past years they’ve been crashed on his living room floor and couch and the one guest bedroom for Max and Laura (he says he dislikes all of them equally, but really, its obvious those two are his favorites despite everything.)
When all the kids arrive (again in Nick and Abi’s case), he just points to the van he rented before telling them that they better have brought everything because he ain’t turning the van around.
He takes these fucked up kids to the ocean. No woods no forest no camps no mountains. As far from the memories of Hackett’s Quarry as possible.
He doesn’t say why and they don’t ask, but they enjoy it, the long days on beach, exploring the coastal town, relaxing and setting off fireworks, watching movies late at night and fishing at dawn.
Travis doesn’t care that most of the expenses are coming out of his own pocket, though some of them insisted on helping anyways.
They’re the only ones who know what happened that summer all those years ago, and he sure as fuck doesn’t know why these kids flocked to him, but they’re here and by god dammit if they’re not gonna spend time with their own parents he might as well let these kids have one actual summer before they get thrown to the adult world after college.
And hell, maybe he might just pack up from where he had hidden himself and move out here.
#something something reluctant uncle#travis hackett#hacketts quarry#laura kearney#max brinly#jacob custos#ryan erzahler#dylan leviny#kaitlyn ka#emma mountebank#abigail blyg#nick furcillo
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how do you feel about rose and blakes dynamic and do you have a preferred thorburn of the two
ummm. sweats. ummm. to start with the easy part i like blake better bc he's funny. he's always getting into circumstances that are like if looney tunes were horror. out there running headlong into trees and shit. i don't know if it would be funnier if rose is 4x more competent at not dying than him and he was just having a Skill Issue or if she immediately becomes equally miserable and beset by horrors but i'm sort of getting the vibes that it's going to be the first one. not sans being beset by horrors but probably sans the looney tunes antics. i would love if she also ran headlong into trees though. or was like "i will solve this issue via exsanguination" as blake was wont to do before he died badly and then started immediately sniveling and shivering pathetically like blake did bc she's never bled real blood before and it huuuurts :(.
i would love if i had been paying more attention to blake and rose's dynamic this entire time instead of going Heehee Oatmeal. i'm genuinely going to have to reread this fucking book i'm not kidding. maybe even before worm. like i've been blacked the fuck out i have lost the plot. that said i did form literally all of my opinions about worm by incoherently rambling until i stumbled upon something i decided to actually believe so perhaps doing the same publicly about pact will work. towards the end there blake's paranoia wrt having his identity & body (theyre intertwined!) corroded was really getting to him in like a comically cuntish manner. out there being like yeah i consider rose a friend. wgat if she kills me with demons or creatures though. come on man yeah rose resents you a normal amount for being stuck in a mirror watching you make all of the important decisions nearly entirely w/o her input but she's not going to beset you with Beasts or Creatures. i love how hypocritical and bad he is about admitting what their dynamic actually is to himself while still being deeply afraid that said dynamic will result in him getting crazy murdered. i liked when they had the world's shittest hug :) "you hugging yourself but one of you hates hugs and one of you has literally never had one before" rocks. being so inextricably tied together means that you're gonna piss each other off forever but also have no other first choice but each other when you want a hug in Hell World or someone to guide you through a police station while you're about to pass out and die of blood loss. ithink theyre both like their grandma in different ways probably. i hope when blake gets better from dying badly rose is j ust like full on a straight up diabolist. i hope she's the reason he gets better from dying badly due to straight up diabolism. i love that rose (old) was sort of a freak about feeling Inexorably Alive during fucked up demon summonings i think rose (new) should get to do that also. god i wish i was a rose and blake understander i'm just saying shit. what reading a book too fast does to a motherfucker. i dont know i'm going to have to cook them in my brain after i finish reading there's an opinion in there i can uncover yet
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