#and the thing is. other cannot see this! they cannot see the scene I have pictured no matter how much I try to describe it
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chemical override
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!
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The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...
Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.
You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.
Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.
However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.
You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.
She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.
But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.
You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.
Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.
Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.
"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.
Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.
"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."
"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"
"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."
He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"
"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."
"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."
Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.
It's definitely working on you, to say the least.
The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.
"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.
"Good luck," Ewan replies.
You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.
"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"
The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.
"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.
You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."
"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."
"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."
"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"
"I'll be sure to tell him - "
Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."
"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.
"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?
"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.
"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."
"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."
"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."
"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.
"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"
One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.
In the best damn way possible.
"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"
"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.
"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.
"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."
He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."
"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."
"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."
"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."
The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."
Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?
You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.
Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.
Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.
If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.
But with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.
"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."
No, you didn't, not when it's him.
"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.
"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.
"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.
"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"
"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"
"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."
He smirks, "I don't see why not?"
"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."
"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."
"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."
"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?
"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."
"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."
Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...
"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.
"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.
Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.
"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.
He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."
That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."
"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "
"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"
"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.
"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.
"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."
"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."
He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.
"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."
"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.
Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.
But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.
Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"
"Hi, darling."
"Ewan?"
"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "
"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.
"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."
"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."
"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.
He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.
"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.
"What are you doing?"
"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.
He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.
Maybe.
"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"
A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.
"Let's hear it."
"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "
"Not a chance."
" - and swear your love for Aemond."
"Keep dreaming."
He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.
"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"
The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤
Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~
#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell imagine#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen#hotd#house of the dragon
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For Better or Worse
Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader
Summary: Your siblings are marrying in two weeks and as the best man and maid of honor, Miguel and you are dragged to the dance lessons for moral support despite disliking each other. There, you're forced to pretend to be a couple.
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: slightly suggestive comments from the dance instructor, so MDI; reader speaks and understands Spanish; unnamed sister for reader; reader and Miguel are grumpy with each other, so don't expect any smooching, but there's tension, hehe
A/N: this was supposed to be a simple thought based on a movie scene (vid below the cut) that turned into something longer (a blessing and a curse). Thank you for reading!
Masterlist
Source: The Wedding Date (2005)
Your little sister, or not so little since she’s all grown up, found love and is now getting married to Gabriel O’Hara. You’re elated about them marrying, truly. Ever since your sister met Gabriel, you could tell they were made for each other. They’re both so sweet and kind, sometimes they remind you of Jane Bennet and Mr. Bingley from Pride and Prejudice, too good for their own good.
They’re truly made for each other and you have to admit, Gabriel squeezed his way into your heart fairly quickly with how great he treats your sister, so it didn’t take long before you started to see him as part of the family.
But of course, a rose comes with its thorns. Or, in your case, your sister’s now fiancé, comes with a brother.
Miguel O’Hara.
You cannot stand the man.
And he cannot stand you.
That’s the one thing you have in common, the mutual dislike.
You finally met him and Gabriel’s parents when the relationship between your siblings became serious. You expected to like Gabriel’s family, and you did, everyone except Miguel. The two of you simply didn’t click. It was dislike at first sight.
Of course, you try to be polite to each other for the sake of your siblings, but when they’re not in sight, keeping an eye on either of you, your dislike is shown through scowls and narrowed eyes.
You try to stay clear from each other as much as possible, something that has become harder to do as your siblings’ relationship has turned more and more serious.
And now, the proximity will be unavoidable. Gabriel popped the question a year ago and that’s how you find yourself parked outside a dance studio, two weeks before the big day.
With you being your sister’s maid of honor and Miguel the groom’s best man, that means you’ve both been in each other’s presence more than usual to support the couple as they’ve gone through the wedding planning.
And that includes the freaking dance lessons.
As soon as everyone arrives, all four of you enter the building. Of course, Miguel and you avoid each other as you both quickly scan the place before your gazes find your siblings’ sheepish smiles towards the two of you. The sight immediately makes Miguel and you tense.
Those sheepish smiles are no good, you both know that too well. Those are the smiles of younger siblings about to ask something from you. Something neither of you are probably going to like.
“So… we asked you to come along today for moral support,” you sister starts, fidgeting with her hands.
“Because we really do need it but there’s another reason…” Gabriel adds, trailing off.
“What is it, Gabriel?” Miguel asks, his tone low with a hint of impatience.
“So… the instructor is a well known one in the community. They’re really good at what they do! It’s why we wanted to get lessons from her, but she had a tight schedule and it was looking like we almost didn’t get a spot. She said she’d only do it if we brought along another couple, unmarried if possible, but one that might potentially marry in the future. You know, as a way to get more business in the future…” Gabriel replies, offering a nervous smile.
“So, Gabri and I figured that…” your sister trails off.
Both Gabriel and your sister stare at you and Miguel, with hope in their eyes as their little plan sinks in.
“No way,” you say immediately, declining anything related to Miguel.
“Aw, please. It’s just a dance lesson. Just for today! Two hours at the most,” your sister tries.
“No.”
“You guys just need to act nice with each other, that’s all. Easy,” Gabriel says, shrugging as if he’s never ran into someone he didn’t like, which might actually be true. “I mean - we’re family now. Not officially, yet,” Gabriel adds giving his future wife a smile that shows pure love. “Very soon, just two more weeks and finally.”
Miguel and you watch, your siblings forgetting for about five seconds about death glares they’re receiving as of right now.
Yes, they’re really too good for their own good. Or, maybe they’re just using their younger sibling privilege and the fact that they’re in love to get their older siblings to give in.
At last, Gabriel turns again as if he just now realizes - or feels - the glares.
“We’re basically family now. You’re going to see each other more often, unless you plan on not attending any family gatherings from here on now, or making some rotating schedule on who gets to go when. It’s just a dance practice, please,” Gabriel pleads, trying to reason with you.
“Gabriel, no,” Miguel says annoyed, exasperated that he and your sister would even think about this considering the fact that neither he nor you like each other.
“Please, if you don’t, she might cancel the session, or charge us double, or something.”
“She can’t do that,” you say. “Can she?”
“Please,” Gabriel and your sister say in unison, something they do a lot, which kind of annoys you sometimes, to be honest.
“It’s not like we’re asking you to kiss. Just - act like a couple,” you sister says. “Please, just for today.”
Miguel and you are both about to tell your siblings why this is inadequate, but you only manage to open your mouths before a woman comes in with a too cheerful smile on her face, stopping you from proceeding. Her presence in the room suddenly shuts all debating, leaving no room for Miguel and you to reiterate that neither of you wish to do this.
“Wonderful! Two couples. My name is Lyla,” she says turning to Miguel and you. “I’m your dance instructor. Let’s not waste any time, yes? The wedding is in two weeks! We need to start working immediately. Everybody, on the floor, please. Let’s go, you two as well, don’t be shy now.” Lyla walks over, immediately pushing Miguel and you forward. “You can be shy in each other’s arms, let’s go.”
You briefly wonder how this woman has so much strength to push the two of you into the floor but that’s quickly forgotten as she continues to speak.
“There. Ah - I see our engaged couple is ready to go,” she comments, making Miguel and you turn to find your siblings already in position, ready to dance. “Let me get these two going, they’re sooooo shy,” Lyla comments with a soft smirk, motioning to Miguel and you.
You both scowl when you hear your siblings laugh, something that cuts their laughter short and turn away.
“Sir, you need to place your hand right here. On your woman’s waist, come on, I’m sure you’ve held her before,” Lyla instructs, grabbing his wrist and placing it on your waist, making it so that Miguel’s hand grips you. Unused to his touch, you squirm when you feel Miguel’s warm hand on you. You try backing away but Lyla only pushes you forward, into Miguel’s touch.
“My, you two are really shy,” she says as she takes your hand and places it on Miguel’s shoulder, allowing you to feel his broad muscles beneath his top. “You need to learn to embrace each other. It’s intimacy.” She pushes you both together now, forcing Miguel to take more steps towards you. Again, you question how much strength Lyla has to move you like straw dolls, especially a man like Miguel. Maybe you’re both so dumbfounded by this situation, your bodies are just doing as she says, pushing you into this abnormal situation. The only sense of normalcy comes from the glares Miguel and you are shooting at each other. “Dancing is like - making love, I’m sure you two know what I’m talking about,” Lyla says before her eyebrows shoot up, thinking of something. “Unless you’re waiting for marriage then… that’s a tough one, but I think you might have an idea of what I mean.” At that, Lyla grins at the two of you.
Miguel and you silently groan at the thought of you two making love, meanwhile Gabriel and your sister are laughing in the back. You turn and give them a glare, same from Miguel, shutting them up.
“I can see you’re both tense. There’s so much - so much tension between you,” Lyla says, hand on her chin as if contemplating something deeply. “It’s that kind of tension only found in the bedroom, you know? Hm… Alright, you’’l be the leader. That means you lead the dance, sir,” she says patting Miguel’s arm.
You turn at that because why does he get to lead you?
“Why does he lead?” you ask, eyebrow raised.
“Uhh - okay, I see it now,” Lyla says with a smile, as if everything makes sense now. “That’s why there’s so much tension. You’re both - very dominant. I suppose you’re both - you switch, right? You’re switches?”
“What?” Miguel says with knitted eyebrows and a slightly opened mouth due to the shock because there’s no way this lady just asked that, right?
“Excuse me?” you manage to say, equally appalled.
“You take turns,” Lyla explains. “On who is dominant In the bedroom. The question is who will be the dominant one on the dance floor.”
You turn to look at Miguel, brows knitted. Not only are you being forced to pretend to be his partner but now you’re apparently “switches” and fighting for who dominates who. It’s stupid, you know that, but this has turned into a competition of sorts, and there’s no way you’re letting Miguel O’Hara lead you, even if it’s pretend.
“I assure you, it’ll be me. Just like how it is in the bedroom,” you state which earns you a squeeze from Miguel’s hand on your waist.
“We both know that’s not the case, amor [love],” Miguel replies through gritted teeth.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Lyla pipes in between you, amused. “I love your energy, though. Alright, time to dance!”
You exhale heavily. Just why did your sister have to drag you into this? Oh right, you’re her maid of honor and the man with his hand on your waist right now is the best man.
You’re stuck in this situation now, whether you like it or not. So, Miguel and you stand like two stiff boards against each other, meanwhile your younger siblings are in another dimension of rainbows and love. They already forgot about their older siblings since they got away with their little plan.
You sigh again and turn to face Miguel, standing in front of each other, like two statues. As the minutes have ticked by with Lyla’s talk about intimacy and dominance, your fingers are now interlaced, though neither of you have noticed yet.
“Just dance, guys. I want to see what I’m working with here,” Lyla says, hands on her hips as she watches the scene in front of her, music playing in the background now.
Stiffly, Miguel and you begin to move, taking steps side by side for a good minute or so before you look up at him. Staring at hm, you notice he seems… tense. Despite yourself, you can’t help but poke fun at him.
“¿Qué pasa, Miguel? ¿Tienes dos pies izquierdos? [What's up, Miguel? You have two left feet?]” You ask mockingly, which earns yourself a half scowl because Lyla is watching you.
Miguel grips your fingers and waist as you continue to dance. You still have a soft smirk on your face, satisfied with Miguel’s annoyance when suddenly, you’re tripping over his foot. Your breath hitches as you feel yourself falling but before that happens, you feel Miguel’s wrapped arm around your waist tighten, catching you. To further annoy you, he expertly uses his other hand and maneuvers you so that your back is leaning on his arm now, with you looking up at him as he leans down. For about three or four seconds, his dark eyes bore into yours before he spins you back to face him correctly.
Annoyed, you return the gesture and slam your foot on his, causing him to grimace in pain. Holding your hand, he pushes you back with a scowl before pulling you back harshly.
“Para tu información, princesa, sé bailar [for your information, little princess, I know how to dance],” he murmurs, staring down at you.
“Hm, I wonder where from? You never dance at parties.”
“And you do? All you do is sit at the table like you’re too good to accept any man’s offer for a dance,” Miguel replies as you move across the dance floor.
Somewhere, your siblings are already receiving help from Lyla, who’s instructing them on proper hand placement.
“And you? You stand around with the other men, talking about God knows what.”
“Women, of course,” Miguel sarcastically replies as he spins you around before bringing you back to him. “We talk about the women dancing and the ones who don’t, either because they’re too shy to dance, or just snobs, como tu… comprenderas [like you... understand, comprehend].”
You scoff. “Is that them, or your personal opinion of me?” you ask, pulling back from him, hands still joined.
Miguel snickers and pulls you back, your chest slamming right into his. You scowl in response. “Quiero decirte algo [I want to tell you something].” He spins you around again. “We are going to make this work.”
“Make what work?”
“This,” Miguel says as he pulls you back in. He stares at you while you keep dancing. “I’m not going to miss out on my brother’s life. Gabriel and I are close, always have been. I have no intentions of stepping out and missing out on his life, him building a life with your sister.” He turns you around, pressing your back to his chest, his arms crossed over your body, as if keeping you locked in them to ensure you’ll listen clearly. “I’m going to be there, at every family gathering. If they have children, you better bet I’m going to be there at every birthday party, or soccer game. So, I want you to know that right now. We’re either going to make this work, or you’ll be missing out, because I’m not stepping out.”
You scoff again, and to his great annoyance and astonishment, free yourself from his arms to face him once more. You place a hand on his chest, leading him back.
“I have no intentions of missing out, O’Hara. Don’t even think about it. Being part of my sister’s life heavily outweighs the annoyance of seeing your unpleasant face.”
Miguel scoffs and wraps his large hand around your wrist before he pulls you forward, your faces mere inches from each other.
“Unpleasant face? You must be blind, princesita [little princess]. Maybe I ought to take you somewhere to get those pretty eyes checked if that’s how you see my face,” he murmurs, staring right into your eyes.
You snort and pull back. “You’re not everyone’s cup of tea, O’Hara, but I digress. I’m going to be part of my sister’s life, too. So, get used to it.”
Miguel smirks, pulling you right back against his chest. “For better or worse, we'll tolerate each other. For them,” he murmurs, staring right into your eyes.
“For them,” you agree, meeting his gaze.
For the first time, you really look into his eyes. You’ve never been quite this close to the man, not enough to appreciate their color - a deep brown with a slight maroon undertone. You see the gentle wrinkles under his eyes and forehead, probably from his job as the CEO from some company you've never bothered to learn the name of. A quick peek at his slightly parted mouth allows you to really notice the plump lips. You’ve never noticed it before, but one side of his upper lip is higher than the other, adding to the full lips. You even manage to notice a crooked tooth at the front of his teeth, something that makes you pause internally for some reason.
In a society worried all about looks, Miguel hasn't had that fixed. You glance back into Miguel's eyes but his are somewhere else, somewhere around your mouth. You don’t have enough time to question why his eyes are there though.
His eyes meet yours again, his throat showing a visible gulp as the image of your lips flashes in his head. Staring at your eyes, he once again takes notice of your eye color and the way your eyelashes frame your eyes, something he’s noticed before.
“That!”
Miguel and you instantly pull away, releasing each other. Lyla quickly approaches you, smiling.
“That's the look I was hoping for,” she says. “A look of pure passion, tension, sexiness… love” she says, giddily. “That’s the way to dance! Oh, I have no doubt you two will know exactly how to dance when your wedding date comes. I have seen enough. Take five while I revisit my initial plan, our engaged couple needs a little more help than you two,” Lyla says giving you both a wink. “There’s a lot of love there but they can’t dance to save their lives, unlike you two. If you want to take a seat and just talk, you lovebirds.” Lyla nods and heads off to your siblings, immediately laying out what needs work.
Miguel and you stand side by side, watching in silence for a few seconds before Miguel breaks the silence.
“I need to make - a work call. I’ll be outside while they get finished,” he says, pulling out his cell phone.
“Sure, you go and do that,” you reply, staring at the other three people, not sparing Miguel a glance.
He faces you, watching you for a few seconds as if expecting you to say anything else, or maybe waiting for you to face him, but you never do.
“Great,” he mutters before he walks away. A few seconds later you hear the studio’s door close.
You sigh heavily. You didn’t even know you were holding your breath. He’s so annoying, so - You do a little head shake, clearing your mind. You’ve both agreed to tolerate each other for the sake of your siblings - to be part of their lives.
“For better or worse,” you murmur to yourself.
A/N: Leaving it open-ended because this was only supposed to be a blurb and then I kept going! Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this!! <33
Alondra❤️
#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel ohara#spiderman 2099#across the spiderverse#miguel o hara#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel x reader#miguelohara#miguel atsv#miguel 2099#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x you#atsv fanfiction#spiderman: across the spiderverse#miguel fanfic#reader insert
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Spoilers for EarthSpark S2 below the cut.
The problem with Starscream isn't that he was evil. I have to lead with that because apparently if you complain about how he was handled, people are just going to assume you wanted him to be redeemed. I am not a Starscream redemptionist, nor am I a fan of "redemptions" where an evil character becomes a Good Guy. One of the biggest issues I have with Megatron redemptions is that he never actually has to address what he did to his own side, he just fucks off to join the other side/goes his own way. Suffice to say, I was not hoping for EarthSpark to "redeem" Starscream (unless it was in the more personal sense of trying to do better by his own people).
The problem with Starscream is not that he was evil. The problem is that, to make him the specific brand of evil the Powers That Be wanted, they had to completely ignore his previous characterization.
I honestly did not have a problem with most of his (admittedly few) scenes. His motivation for being Evil was disappointingly shallow, but him being grumpy-but-accepting of the new Terrans fit with his S1 characterization. The bit where Skywarp complains when he doesn't do anything to punish "Spitfire's" disrespect could easily have been spun as him trying to be a better leader after his talk with Hashtag. I liked that he isn't stingy with praise when someone accomplishes something. Even the painfully underdeveloped motivation could have been expanded into him trying to do what he thought was best for his faction. All the building blocks for a villainous-but-sympathetic Starscream were right there.
Which is why watching everything fall apart in the last 20 minutes felt like character assassination.
You cannot convince me that the Starscream who knew Hashtag for an hour and was ready to risk his life for her is the same Starscream who murdered two children without blinking. You cannot convince me that the Starscream who criticized Megatron's violent leadership would consider it a compliment when he's called more cruel than Megatron. I don't care what previous Starscreams were like, this one had an established characterization that does not work with what we see later. Not unless working with the Autobots briefly completely disillusioned him to the possibility of a lasting peace.
Also, love how the time skip allows them to just avoid any sort of fallout from having the people you were working with go back to trying to kill you. Love how there was no deeper reason to the war restarting than "they're Decepticons". Heaven forbid we get any sort of conflict with the two sides trying and failing to work together, and the falling out being a shared responsibility and not just "the Cons were actually still evil, lol". Can't have anyone grappling with how things went wrong and wishing they'd done something differently to maintain the peace. Megatron yells at Starscream to end the war like the Autobots played no part in it continuing. Which is obviously the intent, but it just feels like such a lazy copout to keep the Good Guys morally pure.
The Decepticons were being hunted down and locked up. They had no reason to think well of the Autobots or the humans, which means that if the Autobots wanted peace, it was their responsibility to reach out and prove that things could be different. Yes, the Decepticons would need to put in effort too, but they were not the ones - at least not the only ones - who needed to prove that they meant well. If the two sides worked together for a while and the Decepticons still unanimously rejected the possibility of ending the war, the Autobots share the blame for that decision.
I have plenty of other issues with how S2 is going so far (why was Nightshade the only Terran who got completely relegated to side character?), but I'll save my rant about the Chaos Terrans for later. It'll be huge, trust me.
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I see as you are
Joel Miller x F!reader ( ~ 18+ MDNI ) 1,7K
…….……………
Summary: Joel refuses to change, that only means suffering for himself. He faces the consequences of choices he doesn’t want to admit he’s making.
Warnings: ANGST. This is literally all angst. No happy endings bc we keep things real. Mention of sex but no actual scenes of intimacy. Joel is MEAN! ( he doesn’t want to be though. ) Very detailed negative thinking patterns. Joel and reader sleep with each other, but there’s no real definition of what they are. Just generally a depressing vibe. Joel and reader smoke cigs. no use of y/n
A/N: First ever x reader fic and I’ve decided to come out with emo nonsense lol. I was listening to a song when I thought of this. link is below if you want to listen.
“It’s not good, It will never become good no matter how long you wait.” The words tumble, shaky in their exit, like a secret stolen out of a chest. It’s the truth, in its simplest and barest form. Lying out flat on the splintered railing of his back porch, the blood and the rot of it seeping into the wood.. “This is all I can give you.”
He looks over to you like your mind would’ve changed, like you’d have suddenly understood that he’s a monster. That he is exactly who he is. That you see the blood and the rot of it, too. That he himself is virulent, and cannot provide what you deserve. He finds no such thing in your eyes, or anywhere on your face for that matter. No trace of horror from the truth. No stains to be found. You look as though you’re not surprised in the slightest, blinking slowly. You look as though he’s just told you the sky is blue.
The truth of himself has only ever brought him and those around him pain. It irks him that you don’t seem to fit that standard and fills him with the need to shake you like a rattle by your shoulders until it finally seeps through your skull so you will understand.
He frowns at you instead.
“I don’t want it to be good, I just want it to be.”
Silly, silly girl he thinks. He is certain you do not know what you are asking for, as you don’t deserve it, and neither does he. His frown hardens as you look back out at the garden. The grass is dead and mushy with the rain constantly drowning it, puddles of muddy water with floating, brown grass stands. Dead trees lined up against the fence like a wall. You exhale your smoke. His eyes bore into your side profile, drinking up every minute tick of muscle, every inhale and exhale, every movement of your eyes, and the motion of your hair. He sometimes feels as though he should not even be looking at you. That he does not deserve to take in all of these details, does not deserve to think about you. You’re worth more and deserve more than to be trapped in his thoughts. He doesn’t want you there, anyway. He really really doesn’t.
He’s just so tired. Resigned to the loneliness that surrounds his shoulders. The surface-level happiness that comes when he’s on patrol with Tommy, Accepting the time he gets to spend with Ellie with a smile, even though he wants to scream and cry to have her back.
So, he knows he should force you away. For your own sake and his, but he never says anything to stop you when your molten cunt wraps around him so tightly like an all-encompassing embrace.
“No.” He says it simply, and that makes you laugh slightly before you turn to him.
“No?” You repeat in question, blowing the smoke out of the corner of your mouth, the taste sticking to your tongue, the scent clinging to the both of you like dew.
“I can’t watch what I’ll do to you if you give me that.”
“You’re not a bad man, Joel-”
“Quit,” he begs. That’s what it is really. Stop being something he’s never had. Stop fighting for him - he can’t take it. Always the wet dog left outside. Always greeted with a sigh, his name an exasperated breath for most. He doesn’t want to fucking think about it anymore, he doesn’t want to look inwards. It hurts. He’s tired of the choking pressure in his throat every time he finds himself in his own company. No one by his side but his greatest enemy. He’s tired of being left outside, of having to witness the people he’s most loyal to enjoying dinner in a warm home with laughter while he sits in the downpour, staring through the window with not a glance his way. Goddamnit, Ellie brought Cat to dinner at Tommy’s house to ‘introduce her to the family’ - Joel didn’t find out until he accidentally overheard Cat asking Maria for her baked potato recipe, and he still finds himself crying about that every night he hasn’t drunken himself to sleep. He’s wryly impressed that he hasn’t run out of tears.
He’s so defeated. His shoulders weigh a thousand pounds. His face is almost constantly crumpled in an uncontrollable display of sorrow.
“I’m not quitting you, Joel.” Insesant, annoying little girl. Stop makin’ this difficult and throwin’ a tantrum. you slowly climb into his arms after leaving the burning cigarette in the ashtray, wrapping your arms around his neck slowly, like he might spook - he probably would. He can’t look at you, not yet. He swallows thickly around the lump in his throat as you lean forward and rest your chin on his shoulder. Hugging him despite him not being able to hug you back. “I only want what you’re willing to give me.”
And you both know it sounds a little too much like love. He’s torn between the churning of his stomach and the temptation of your arms - of comfort that he knows will make him burst into tears and let everything out once he allows it. He’s not ready to face that.
Bristling at the mere thought and caving inwards in shame at the thought that the sharpness of his fear stabs you.
“Please don’t do this, sweetheart..” Because good god, you must have some sense of self-preservation, don’t you? He’s going to bleed you dry, he’s going to drown you in his sorrow and tears, he’s going to snuff out the last bits of shining light in your eyes you’ve managed to keep all these years.
Because that’s what he always does, doesn’t he? He ruined his relationship with Ellie with his selfishness, ruined the girl herself with his actions. He burst into tears when he accidentally caught a glimpse of what she wrote about herself in her journal. How she’s completely lost any light that used to live in her bright eyes. Curious eyes that saved him with their warmth and her golden laughter. Her stupid puns that she doesn’t even laugh at anymore.
He ruined his relationship with his little brother with his violence, his hatred. He remembers the little 7-year-old who thought his older brother was the best thing in the entire world. Who would cry whenever Joel left the house to hang out with his friends, Who would follow him around just to be by his big brother’s side, running through the long grass of Texas fields, playing cowboys and Indians with missing front teeth and scraped knees. Who now can’t even look at him without that look of sympathetic sadness. That look of disappointed acceptance. ‘I know you can’t help who you are, what a shame.’
“It hurts me to see you like this.” and that makes him want to thrash. Why do you care? Why are you grounding him? Why is he taking up space in your mind and being acknowledged? Your awareness of his pain only makes it real. A ghost doesn’t become real until two people have seen it, not really anyway. The fact that the little girl who he views as his own, hates him. The fact that he’s become a touchy subject - a disappointment - to his younger brother. That’s all real.
Because you see it too.
He feels as though he can’t breathe. If no one cared for him, everyone shut him outside to sleep in the rain, he could find acceptance in that. He could learn to curl himself into a ball and wait for someone to finally step outside so he can follow them until they leave him outside again, learn to deal with the nauseating chill. But here you are inviting him into your home, leaving the light on for him and waiting at your open door. Peakin with those bright little eyes and pensive expression. Inviting a dirty, wet dog into your clean, warm home.
“Then don’t look at me.” He knows he’s being petulant now. Knows that your frustration is mounting, and he feels quite happy about it. Yes, be angry with me - and leave me to sit in the rain. But your fingers are gripping the canvas fabric over his shoulders, no longer mourning. No longer soft.
“Why do you keep choosing to suffer?” It comes out as an accusation, and he guesses it is. It’s easier when it’s sharp like this. Mean and aggressive and fiery. It’s better than the putty-like feeling of hollow sadness that sits in his stomach when you try to coax him gently. Try to get him to choose happiness for himself.
“I’m not choosin’ anything.”
“Don’t talk shit to me.” He almost wants to laugh at that, “You’re choosing to stay exactly where you are. You’re choosing defeat, Joel!”
“And what the hell makes you think you’re some damn messiah?! That youre goin’ t’make me so damn over joyed?! You can’t give me anythin’ I want!” And oh, he’s so mean. So childish. He knows full well you could save him if he let you. Knows he’d feel so much better if he eventually mosied over to your open door, leaving that window of everything he yearns for behind, you’d give him a warm bath - turn him from some stinky outside dog into something that shows signs of being loved.
You get up off of his lap, standing still and facing away from him. Guilt immediately gnaws at his chest. His jaw tenses like that’ll chase the feeling away.
“It’s not about me, Joel,” you whisper, and he can tell you’re trying to fight off tears so he doesn’t feel bad.
God, his bottom lip quivers.
He hasn’t hated a single thing more than he hates himself.
“It never has been.”
You grab the slightly bent box of cigarettes, stuffed into your pocket with your lighter. You take two steps away before he speaks, staring at the splintered wood of his porch.
“Please don’t go,” he whispers, and your boots stop padding against the floor.
“You can’t even look at me, Joel.” You say simply, resignation in your voice now. White flag waving.
He doesn’t watch you walk away, he can’t.
a/n : tysm for reading! hope you enjoyed. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
#Spotify#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller#tlou fanfiction#tlou x reader#the last of us fic#the last of us#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#the last of us 2#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n
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I'm back with things that made me clutch my chest, snap my neck, scream into the void etc etc... from ep 6 of Wandee Goodday.
Settle in my loves, we're in for one heck of a ride!
- starting us off strong with Yak waking up Dee, pouting about them not being able to see each other for a week because of the training camp, THE HEAD RUFFLE AND FOREHEAD KISS.... HELP ME IM GOING TO KILL THEM
- we're also back to the elephant pants and I cannot describe my happiness at seeing Yak wearing something that makes him comfortable while being with Dee
- that whole fucking montage... look at these domestic "we're just fuck buddies" assholes. Gentlemen, you wouldn't know "fuck buddies" if they were sucking your dick....
- TOOTHBRUSHES SIDE BY SIDE
- HES WEARING THE NECKLACE
- I had to physically stop myself from smacking my head into a wall at Yak's "I see you (Dee) more than I see her (Taem)" .... insert Scar's imsurroundedbyidiots.gif
- I love the way Dee thinks that Yoryak has no weakness? He genuinely seems surprised that Yak needs to go get trained 🥹🥹 also how worried he is when Yak explains his first loss...
- here's me toasting you Khun Yak for that sex joke 🤣👍🏽
-Patpran would be so proud... BET ERA MY BELOVED (if they fist bump I'll scream... oh phooey they didn't)
- them texting each other about their day... gwenchana gwenchana 😭😭😭
- I guess Oishi GreenTea is not sponsoring them 😅🤣
- Yak and Yei... just that scene...
- dee on the couch... quite obviously missing Yak... you dumbass ♥️🥺
- HE LEFT HIS PANTS THE- HE LEAVES CLOTHES AT DEE'S PLACE YOU DUMBASSES ARE SO INTO BOYFRIEND TERRITORY ITS OBVIOUS TO PLUTO!!
- that change in perspective... Golf... I see you and your masterful brain 👀👀👀
- HES WEARING THE PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNTTTTTTSSSSSSS
- Dee making a mess on the mirror on purpose (I'm not crying I'm NOT)
- sweetheart... you're in love with Yoryak... 🥹🥺♥️
- Cher? My darling? Give Yei a really good blowjob when he comes back because your hubby is fucking SMART (also yak and yei sleeping on a bed together... adorable sibling behaviour)
- me when Yak walks outside: ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh wandee is gonna show up he's gonna show up he lost the bet he's gon- OHHHHH YAK CLOSED HIS EYES AND WHEN HE OPENS THEM DEE WILL BE THERE!!!!
- me when i turned out to be right:
- "the atmosphere here is nice." "It got even better with you here." SOMEBODY SEDATE ME!
- hey pot? I believe the kettle is calling you black.
- give me a kiss... look at these two idi-
- you know when you have to put your phone down because you cannot believe the audacity? Yeah... that's me when Yak points right to his lips. Sir. You dumbass.
- my knees just gave out
- nobody hold me back im about my plant my foot into Ter's face
- KAAAAAAOOOOOOO HI BABY!!
- oh no. Oh no no no no. This is one time I do NOT WANT a whole "oh there's only one bed"!!!!
- side note: is this what happened with Billy and Babe when they went to Japan? 🤔🤔 thank you Kao 🤣♥️
- forget my foot. I'm dropping a fucking ANVIL on this asshole's face- where does Ter get off making decisions for Dee???
- DONT KISS HIM BACK OFF STRANGER DANGER STRANGER DANGER YAK HELP!!! (edit: two mins later I was even more pissed off because Ter knows that Dee has a boyfriend, "fake" as it is, and he still tried to kiss Dee! This dickhead!!!)
- WELL DONE DEE!
- well done P'Golf!! HPV knowledge my beloved ♥️♥️
- Dee no!!! Don't think about that horse-faced dick doctor (if I had a quarter every time I said that, I'd have two quarters only... but weird for it to happen twice - fuck you Dr. Charlatan!!!)
- YAK! Come get your man!!
- I'm all for you two seeing each other again but NOT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET THATS HOW WE DIE!!! MOVE YOU DUMB GAYS! (Edit: Kay but now think of the fact that Dee is terrified of crossing the street and how easily he does it when it's Yak he's walking to...this is okay I'm okay I'm so okay)
- love and the city... p'golf you fucking genius
- kisses in the stairwell... gods they really want me to choke don't they?
- second time I had to put my phone down... Yoryak... I'm this close to drop-kicking you across the country
- my body is yours... and so is your heart you idiot get to that realization faster!!! Pat would be so disappointed!
- Kao coming in with those truths... my utmost respect for you sir 🫡🫡
- oh shit...
- TAEM YOU QUEEN YES!!
- DEE YOU DUMBASS NO!
- hats off to Cher and Yei being adorable and happy in their sex lives which includes phone sex!!! We approve!!!
- the side by side!!!! Interesting to think of it as a couple making love vs. a couple fucking but it's actually two couples in love... awww
- OYEI AND CHER LIP KISS THANK YOU P'GOLF!!!!
- Kao. Sir. I'm erecting temples in your honour. Making merit. Fasting. Praying for you to find someone who loves you the way you want to be loved. I'm doing it all for you because you fucking deserve it.
- the pink on Dee's face... sweetheart you're so in love with him 🥺🥺
- GROUP DATE!!!! And our resident idiot gays are in matching pants.... lord gimme strength
- feeding each oth- breathe Nessie breathe. The idiots know not how they hurt you.
- Yak recognizing that something's going on between Yei and Cher is such a lovely thing. Now if only he could realize stuff about himself and Dee!
- third time I put down my phone... but to cry because Yak remembers Dee's fear and holds his hand I'm fucking fine don't touch me
- oh no... Yei you got yourself mixed up with loan sharks! honey no!
- yak comparing the pics of him, Cher, Yei and Dee to the family picture... this epsiode really said we're going to stomp on your heart Nessie...
- they're still holding hands... fuck
- I'm begging whatever deity is listening to me: please don't let there be a scene where Dee tells the public about yak's secret place
- one more word and I'll kiss you... on the lips. (Okay but the fact that he says this and still thinks he might be in love with Taem makes me feel like this 👇🏽
- Yei you utter romantic sap 🥹🥹🥹🥹🫡
- the story of how Yei and Cher met... fucking fuck 😭😭😭
- and then ending it off with Dee knowing that no matter what his feelings, the fact that Yak is the only person who makes him feel at ease... FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK
this epsiode came for my whole existence and the next one... the next one is gonna have me on the floor THANKS!
#wandee goodday#wandee gooday the series#yak x wandee#wandee wittaya#wandeeyoryak#yoryak phadetseuk#oyeicher#bad boys#patpran#the bet era is back!!!!#wandeegooday spoilers!#spoilers#billy patchanon#babe tanatat#billybabe#the sign#Nessie is going through it
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I haven't read the novel, but apparently that Ming and Tong scene was in it, and it said something like: "Tong underestimated Ming's feelings for Joe, and overestimated Ming's feelings for him" and I'm so glad we're at that point now. It's time for Tong to not have an easy ride.
Oh yeah, that'd make sense. Because that was, exactly, that scene. Tong was absolutely certain that he could simply tell Ming to go back to being who he used to be and that Ming would just listen and stop fighting this and stop being more sad and more serious and different... not realizing that Ming really has changed.
Tong relies on manipulating others by understanding them and he was so sure he understood Ming that he didn't take a moment to even consider that things might have changed while they were apart this time, that Ming may have stopped following him like a duckling.
(In some ways, Joe has the same issue but totally different because he loves Ming and assumes that Ming cannot love him and now he is slowly coming to the realization but has a different struggle with forgiveness and just... oh man.)
I'm so glad to see Ming standing up to Tong, though, it's so good to see and to understand and to know that we're seeing how Ming has changed and what he's been doing and it's so immense to contemplate what he tried to do to keep growing, to take responsibility for what he did and to not deny that he was wrong.
This show is just so good, damnit.
#my stand in#my stand in the series#ming x joe#bl series#thai series#asian lgbtq dramas#thai bl drama#asked and answered
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Yugo and queerness in Wakfu part 3
Part 1 Part 2
Yugo’s crush on Tristepin: You may not believe that one, and you would be wrong for not at least trying.
Based on Yugo’s feelings towards Amalia, you could infer a few traits that Yugo tends to be attracted to, and also the stuff that he can go over when he does crush on them.
I believe Yugo is attracted to people with heroic tendencies, with a noble, dedicated and adventurous spirit, because those are some of Amalia’s greatest qualities. I think he also likes people with a lot of ingenuity, people that he finds impressive, due to how genuine and effective this attempt to flirt back into her good graces was:
“Yes, I’m impressed by you Amalia.” with the light twinkling in his eyes and everything, at her finding a way for everyone to stay connected at a distance.
His attraction towards those traits tend to overcome his obvious distaste for some of Amalia’s more self-centered and sometimes egotistical habits (which I would argue is still better than Yugo’s self-centered and often self-sacrificial tendencies), though they are sometimes too much and become cause for tension.
You know who else embodies a lot of those traits? Tristepin.
Ingenuity aside (and even then, he has his moments), Tristepin is someone who aspires to be a hero, and as such does his best to embody these traits, though at the beginning it is mostly on a superficial level. Yugo is smart enough to know Pinpin is not quite all of those things at the time, but contrary to some other members of the team, it is still visible that Yugo does find him heroic. For example, he never call him a Iop brain, whereas every other member may have called him some degree of idiot.
Not only that but after his death and resurrection, Yugo develops a sort of unhealthy obsession with Tristepin’s safety (I won’t show you all examples of this, this file is already quite heavy, and it gets obvious if you watch the show). Would seem just fair, but it’s important to notice not even Eva is as worried about it as much as him. Adamai knows it’s one of his brother’s greatest fragility, that’s why he gratuitously exploits it at the beginning of s3.
Honestly the most fucked up thing he ever did. Yugo is seeing all that through his eyes.
Yugo would literally put the world in danger for him.
In OVA3, this is literally the reason for Ad and Yugo’s conflict.
I’d also like to add that even though their bond has eventually been labeled as brotherly it doesn’t mean that Yugo’s feelings on the matter have ever been totally platonic, or that there cannot be more complexity in the way he feels, so I genuinely don’t think it invalidates anything. They also share a few moments that can be read in a romantic lens.
In s1ep6 there is a slightly distasteful but short scene that was clearly intended as a gay joke.
You guys both agreed on sharing that bed, why are y’all panicking?
In s1ep12, when Tristepin defeats Kriss la Krass, leaving everyone dumbfounded, he decides to not keep that victory to himself. Instead, he shares it with Yugo.
A show of nobility from Tristepin, one that probably deeply touched Yugo as he decided to carry him towards the goal.
In s2ep20, when Yugo is freaked out due to his connection with Ad being interrupted, it’s Tristepin who gets to comfort him, making a clear parallel with Cleophée’s attitude towards him at the beginning of the episode, but mentioning that it’s Eva, his girlfriend, who taught him about comfort in intimacy, it’s heavily implied Yugo ended up putting his head on Tristepin’s shoulder as the episode ends.
He actually manages to get a smile out of him too.
During OVA3, as the fight with Ogrest comes to an end and they’re on the verge of being defeated, Yugo and Tristepin land on each other and have that terribly bittersweet small interaction.
“We lived some amazing adventures, right?
- Amazing ones, Pinpin.”
At that point they’re both embracing death, glad that at least, they’re at each other’s side when it happens. Keep in mind that Pinpin is very much in a committed relationship with Eva, sure, but it is a very strong moment between the two and it deserves to be acknowledged.
Yugo’s other guy “crushes” (a non exhaustive list): some of them look more like crushes than others, but you get that it’s there.
Kriss la Krass: From s1’s boufbowl arc we know one thing only, Yugo finds him very cool.
Kriss demonstrates a few traits Yugo typically doesn’t like: dishonesty, cheating, egocentrism,…
He almost makes Yugo cry when he pays for 4 minutes of cheating.
But all of this is done with one goal in mind, to offer a show worth watching to his audience, to whom he’s very devoted.
Kriss takes being defeated by Yugo very personally,
He’s actually the first person in-show to consider what Yugo may look like as an adult. Way off-mark, but points for trying.
and yet he still accepts his loss by shamelessly acknowledging his victory
It may not sound like much, but added to his easy acceptance of defeat at the end of the episode, it will of course make an impression on Yugo. To him, Kriss is probably what heroism looks like when applied to sport.
Right after a scene where Eva goes on a date with Jay, Yugo gets an interaction with Kriss in which he gets a signed photo of him.
They meet once more in s2, in Brakmar, when Kriss is basically about to be executed for being a traitor to the nation. Yugo immediately decides to take his defense.
He’s taking offense in people laughing at Kriss so strongly he actually goes angry red, which we never saw before. It’s almost personal at that point.
He brings up all of these traits mentioned the s1 part, confirming what was previously inferred. You can say he may have become his greatest fan (I am here referencing s2ep12 once more, in which there is a flashback of Kriss asking Maud if she would like to become his fan in Bonta, with the implication being romantic in nature)
After this Yugo and team starts looking for a new player, and a familiar photo appears:
It seems Yugo kept that photo on him for a whole year. It’s been folded into a tiny rectangle, and the corners are damaged, so it may have been looked at more than once.
Yugo gets very angry, and sad that no one seems to want to help them, that they laugh at Kriss, at them instead.
Eva looks worryingly at Yugo. She knows it means a lot to him, just a bit more than typical hero stuff.
Well they find a way, and during that match, if someone gets worried about Kriss it’s typically Yugo. Until the identity of the Masked Boufbowler gets revealed, then we get the whole deadnaming debacle, and Yugo ends up in a very dangerous situation. It’s Kriss who saves him from this by mastering Maud’s secret technique, then Maud and Kriss collab together and defeat the character, whose name is very annoying to write. The three of them end up landing the winning point.
Justice Knight: I don’t think I need to add anything to s2ep8.
Yugo looks at the guy like that, eyes twinkling, and even Eva starts to take the guy seriously because of how atypical it is for him. We also get confirmation that he and Amalia kinda share a type, and it’s the Justice Knight kind.
Ush: There isn’t much to say about their very first interaction. Yugo and Ush were on opposite sides, and time was of the essence. Yugo was only interested in the guy insofar as he was trying to get two Eliatrope Dofus back from him. They do have a sort of mind game dynamic being set up, with Yugo at first at an obvious disadvantage.
Ush explains the rules of the curse he inflicted upon Yugo right before wrecking his shit. For some reason he does call him “my dear little Eliatrope” during that explanation though.
Yugo ends up outsmarting him by deducing the fact that the Dofus are hidden in the statue within the time limit, and it’s the first time Ush actually loses one of his bets.
He ends up looking at him longingly as he leaves, right after Yugo calls him a liar and Ush foreshadows the events of s3. This time he calls him “my little Yugo” btw.
I believe the scene above is setting up that Yugo thinks there is more, not just to everyone’s actions, but to Ush specifically. If what he said after losing is true, then he does have a sense of honor that probably doesn’t fit the image Yugo had of him. And it does get followed up up in s3ep6.
“Ush!” upon their second meeting. For some reason Yugo’s eyes are twinkling.
This time, Ush calls him “the great Yugo”, about as mockingly as his nicknames in OVA2, but with a more respectful undertone, he doesn’t infantilize him this time, and actually asks about his whereabouts, in an almost friendly manner.
S3ep6 is the episode where an actual dynamic, a rivalry, is set up between the two. Ush, who is still bitter from OVA2, admits to having been obsessed with his very first defeat, and therefore with Yugo. His tone in that interaction ranges from mocking to almost flirty, though it is implied to be in part his natural way of speaking.
“You’re not being very convincing Yugo, let me teach you how to really beg.” Sir, are you flirting??
He is once again having a run in the park with Yugo and his team,
The tension between two people playing cat and mouse really isn’t like any other.
until once again, he gets outsmarted (the rules are not clear, but basically it was implied the inhibitor was not meant to be tempered with, except, since it wasn’t an explicit rule of the game, the team messing it up and Yugo gratuitously using his powers to win wasn’t cheating)
He was very proud of that one. (btw sorry if I’m taking a lot of time with that one I happen to really like this episode)
There are a few surprising things about his defeat. First is how well he is taking it, for a guy who lost only twice, and to the same person, as he seems to mainly focus on Yugo, he even admits he had fun. Yugo smiles at him, and recognizes his sense of honor, you can tell that he went from not really caring about him to genuinely wanting more of his company.
Actually his attention remains so much on him that he just mindlessly teleports Amalia to safety without looking at her. Typically Yugo would be all about her. That’s what a rival does to you.
During their very short interaction in s4, Ush is slightly more antagonistic, and acts as if he couldn’t stand too long near an Eliatrope, because of Yugo. Part of me believes he’s just being a bit of a tsundere and having a hard time admitting he does like him to some extent, but Yugo doesn’t have much of a reaction for him.
Goultard: listen, I have no clue what they ate during the end of s4’s production, but this image exists now.
Somehow became the endgame battle duo.
And we’re all the better for it.
Small Count Harebourg addendum: there is nothing there but it’s funny that he tried to convince Yugo to use the Eliatrope Dofus for him while trying to marry Amalia at the same time. If you watch the episode while thinking of this as him attempting to start a polycule with them it’s funny how pathetic that kinda makes him look.
Hi I just wanted to say I really like your vibes.
Yours are rancid, get lost.
The Eliotropes (again): If that wasn’t obvious, they were the thing that convinced me Yugo’s queerness might just be canon. Going back to the notion they are “versions” of Yugo, while their sexuality is not revealed, it is implied they feel some of Yugo’s feelings. Specifically, Oropo confirms that the reason he’s attracted to Amalia is because Yugo is. Did they all feel that way? Oropo seems to imply that might be the case, and since there are female Eliotropes, either all female Eliotropes were lesbians and male Eliotropes were straight, or, depending on the variability of Yugo’s attractions, many degrees and forms of attraction could be found in all of them.
I want to counter Oropo’s argument with his own feelings. He wasn’t just in love with Amalia, he was with Echo as well. Therefore there is more to an Eliotrope’s attraction than a mere reflection of what Yugo felt for Amalia. They can, and they do fall in love with other people. And if that’s the case, then once more, at what point do those feelings only belong to them, and at which do they start to belong to Yugo? Oropo was shown to be attracted to women, but who’s to say he was straight? And who’s to say the others were?
This part is mostly based on supposition, obviously, but since Eliotropes were shown to be very different from one another, I still believe it’s possible that there was a huge diversity of sexualities within their group, and again, that to some extent, they were a reflection of Yugo’s.
Well, that’s it! Overall all of this is based on me overreading elements present in the show, and I’m aware of that. But there is a lot, a lot that can be read into when it comes to Yugo.
If I may leave somewhere, let it be on this image of Yugo proudly harboring the colors of the pansexual flag.
Yup. Those are almost the same colors. Happy Pride everyone!
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*Flips over sofa* WHAT IF!...What if Oyei does owe debt collectors BUT it's not just because the gym is in financial trouble? It's clear Oyei regards Cher as more than his lover. Cher has booked clients and ran the gym while Oyei and Yak were away. He is a part of the business. He's also the brains of this operation. Unless there is a plothole, it would be difficult to believe that he doesn't keep a close eye on their finances because Oyei's gym isn't in trouble, THEIR gym is in trouble. This isn't only Oyei's burden to bear, which he doesn't seem to grasp BUT OKAY. Wouldn't he be able to connect that they have more money on hand than they make off fights and clients?
I wrote all that to write that what if Oyei and Yak's daddy is struggling and Oyei's sending him money? We're now in uncharted territory because all of the scenes from the trailer have played out. We have not seen or heard them speak of their dad yet, but we know that Yak sees Oyei as his father figure, which means their dad is a BUM in my mind. Despite that possibility, what if Oyei feels some filial piety because his dad was his hero and he feels the need to help him out even though he is struggling himself? It wouldn't be hard to believe. The show is not subtle about how alike the Phadetseuk brothers can be. Yak needs to finish uni to honor his mom's wishes. Maybe Oyei is helping their dad financially even if he's a BUM, alleged by me.
Okay, I'm done.
No I'm not. NOW! We have the knowledge that Oyei saved Cher when he was being assaulted by his ex-boyfriend. Probably not the first time he's been abused. Abusers gaslight and belittle and make you feel insecure, and we've seen at least three times in the last two episodes where Cher's insecurity has reared its head. He knows Oyei is hiding something. Trust is probably a hard thing for him, so to know that his handsy, flirty man who he trusts wholeheartedly suddenly has a wall up between them? He's internalizing that because what else could it be if not him? Ugh. Plus, we finally see them kiss as we're on the precipice of Yak and Wandee admitting that nothing about their relationship has been fake. What if as Wandee and Yak make it official, to no one but themselves but go off, Oyei and Cher's relationship goes through a rough patch due to Oyei's secrets?
A lot of what ifs because I don't know, but what I DO know? Oyei's ass is in trouble once Cher finds out about the debt.
Edit: One more thing. I find it so incredibly attractive when someone is fiercely protective of those they love, but you cannot set yourself on fire to keep others warm. Especially if said loved ones would never ask that type of sacrifice of you and want to protect and take care of you just as fiercely.
#wandee goodday the series#oyeicher#wandee goodday#tw mentions of abuse#mentions of abuse tw#i really thought this show was going to give full goof troop#but now it's stressing me out a little#but keep the angst coming#not too much though
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Bloodbang Chronicles - Chapter 6
Chapter summary: Throwback to the Act 2 confession scene, followed by some tooth-rotting fluff, seguing into sex on the ceiling. And what was that fey patron up to, anyway?
Chapter word count: approx. 4.8k
Chapter CW: Vampire spider climb ceiling fucking
Series masterlist | AO3 | Overall masterlist
Series summary:
Five years have passed since the confrontation with the Netherbrain. Astarion and his warlock lover, Asmodea, are living it up in Baldur’s Gate, running a cabaret. Their life of decadence and debauchery seems idyllic, until Asmodea’s patron disrupts it with a proposal. One that seems too good to be true. One they cannot refuse.
Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character
Genre: Humor / adventure / smut
Rating: Explicit
Five years ago, Shadow-cursed Lands
They sat on someone’s decrepit tomb, a short distance away from camp. The location choice was ironically apt, not that Astarion was in any mood to laugh.
Why had he decided to tell her anything instead of just carrying on as they had..?
Ah, right. Because he wanted to have one thing, just one wretched thing in his life that wasn’t tainted, shrouded in lies and encased in his own guilt.
And now it was going to come to an end.
Asmodea - he supposed he would have to stop calling her ‘Oddie’ now, it wouldn’t feel right to continue with the little nickname, the one that had been his and his only - had drawn her knees up to her chest, ankles crossed, hands grasping at the tresses of her hair near her scalp as she stared off into space, anguish writ on her face. She looked oddly reminiscent of a child trying to curl into a ball. Seeing her this way was heartbreaking - he wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but how could he possibly do that, when he was the one who caused this hurt?
“I feel so stupid,” she said, softly.
“Oh don’t beat yourself up, thousands have fallen for the same act before you,” Astarion said wearily.
She blinked, looking up at him, as though snapping out of a trance.
“Not about that,” she said. “I tried to pretend you were just a fun romp for the longest time, too.”
“...What, then?” Astarion frowned.
She hugged her knees tighter, looking away.
“Gods… Thousands you say…” she whispered. “This whole time, you were hurting. And I just kept taking, and taking, and taking... Fuck!” She hid her face in her hands briefly, before looking at him again. “You’ve given so many signs and hints… I just happily ignored them instead of putting two and two together. I’m so sorry...”
“You...” Astarion found himself at a loss of words. “You have nothing to apologise for... You only did exactly what I wanted you to do...”
He had anticipated anything but an apology. Tears, accusations, anger, perhaps even a cold indifference or scorn. He had prepared himself for all the worst outcomes. But this..?
“So where do we go from here..? What do you want to do?” she asked.
We.
Astarion smiled in disbelief and reached out for her hand.
Every day after that, he expected her to end it, and every day, she stayed.
As the days went by, for the first time in gods knew hold long, he allowed himself to relax, having nearly convinced himself that she truly was content to simply lie in his arms at night, sharing her warmth, or stay up with him talking nonsense in hushed murmurs, while the rest of the camp slept.
Loving her and being loved felt more of an affront to Cazador and all his rules than even drinking sentient creature blood had been. Every sincere laugh, every gentle touch, every whispered word of affection was a forbidden luxury. Every time he indulged in it - an act of defiance.
That night, some days after his fateful confession, they took the first two watches and just stayed up together, as had long become their custom. It wasn’t optimal, perhaps, but they needed less sleep than most of the others anyway.
Astarion had dragged a crate over to the fire, and sat leaning against it, as Oddie - his Oddie, he repeated to himself - lounged between his legs, her back to his chest, her legs stretched out towards the fire.
A small pile of their companions’ clothing that needed repairing lay nearby. Astarion had volunteered to mend it - in part because he genuinely did not mind doing it and it gave him something to occupy himself with, in part because he liked to maintain a reserve of small favours, repayment for which he might collect at a later time.
He paused his own work and watched, amused, as she struggled with someone’s torn sleeve. He had insinuated that she was incapable, and she had decided to prove him wrong. He wondered what else he could goad her into in this manner.
“There. See?” she held the sleeve up for him. “Just because I choose not to do it doesn’t mean I can’t.”
He inspected the tear she had mended - there was too much thread used, the stitching was uneven, and the fabric now pulled, slightly lopsided. It would definitely hold, though, for better or for worse.
“…You’ve certainly made an improvement to its prior condition, my dear.”
She sighed and tossed the garment aside.
“I just hate it with a passion. Brings back memories that only make me angry.” She adjusted the way she lay, making herself more comfortable. “The man I was with back when I was very young and very stupid - he believed that just by virtue of being female, I was obligated to do all his mending, washing, cooking. ...Other servicing. You name it."
“Did you believe it?” Astarion asked, softly.
“I believed that I needed him to survive,” she contemplated. “He wasn’t all bad, I suppose,” she added after a brief silence.
“Did you love him?” he asked, realising too late that his tone was too nonchalant to indicate anything but veiled jealousy.
“I thought I did, at the time,” she answered. She then tilted her head back against his shoulder until she was looking up at him. “Now I know better,” she smiled.
Caught between his instinct to immediately brush it off with a roll of his eyes, and an urge to melt into a stupid smile and embrace her tighter, he huffed and pressed his lips to her temple.
“What about you?” she asked. “Ever get to love anyone?”
“Of course I’ve loved,” Astarion said, slightly annoyed. “…I don’t remember anything about whomever it was, but that doesn’t mean I’m not familiar with the feeling itself. Surely you didn’t think you were that special, darling?”
Oddie shifted to move out of the circle of his arms. Instantly, a sinking feeling somewhere in his stomach told him that he had already screwed it all up, that he’d said all the wrong things, and that his teasing came off too brusque - but she had only turned around to look at him with curiosity, and the feeling abated as quickly as it had come on.
“Was it your thiramin?”
“What do you know about thiramin?” he asked, surprised.
“I’m a bard, I know every sappy love story there is to know about elven soulmates.”
“Is that so?” Astarion mused, before continuing. “Thiramin are rare, practically a myth. I would take anyone declaring that their life partner is their thiramin with an entire handful of salt. ...And no, I’ve not met mine, if they even exist. That I would remember.” He returned to the shirt he had been mending. “And now I never will.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“You need a soul to have a soulmate, for one. And vampires don’t have souls.”
“Who told you that horseshit?!” she scoffed, making him look up at her in surprise again. “Of course you do - you have your desires and aversions, you feel joy and anger, you laugh, you cry... What else do you think a soul is, if not that which makes all this possible?”
“Maybe...” he said, furrowing his brows at the sewing, his work slowing. “What about you?” he asked, lifting his eyes to look at her again.
“What about me? I’m half-elf.”
“And you can’t have half an elven or human soul – it’s one or the other.”
“Hmm...” It was her turn to frown. This wasn’t something she’d ever considered before. “I don’t reverie.”
“Neither do I,” retorted Astarion. “You look more elf than human, even if you behave like a goblin, but that’s not what’s making me wonder.”
“Oh? And what is?” she tilted her head.
“Your patron. You say it came to you, unbidden, when you were in a prison cell. How? Why then? Why did it pick you?”
“I’ve asked, but they wouldn’t tell me,” Oddie answered. She had wondered about this herself, but figured it was all an unlikely coincidence and happenstance.
“I think,” Astarion began, “your fey ancestry from your elven side is strong enough that it sensed your distress from within the feywild, and came to your call. I doubt a human could do the same. A despairing human soul might attract a demon, maybe. But not a fey.”
“Maybe...” she said thoughtfully, resting her chin on her hand. “Let’s say you’re right, and my soul is elven. How would I know, if I met my thiramin?”
“You’re the bard, not me” Astarion shrugged, returning to his work. “Make something up about yearning and passion the like of which you’ve never felt before. Unwavering certainty and devotion. Pain at the mere thought of separation.”
She chuckled, and continued to study his face until he looked up at her again.
“It’s very romantic, what you’re hinting,” she smiled.
“Hmm? I’m not hinting anything, darling,” he said, shifting. She only breathed a brief silent laugh and leaned towards him to place a light kiss on his lips. “But it is a beautiful little fantasy, isn’t it?” he whispered, drawing her back against him.
“It’s been nigh on a tenday since you last disturbed my sleep with your rutting, yet you manage to revolt me more than ever,” a voice accosted them from beyond the campfire.
Lae’zel sat down across from them, having risen to take watch.
“I hope you’re happy,” she added. Her words came off as an insult, but there was sincerity in her voice.
Present day
She was lying to him.
Or hiding something from him, which may as well have been the same thing.
Oddie was devoting more and more time to conversing with that… thing in her head. She stopped doing so out loud, at least when she suspected he might be near, but he knew her tells: the way her eyes would freeze on random objects, the way her nostrils might flare for no reason, the barely perceptible sighs that had no discernible cause, or her lips twitching into smirks when there was nothing to laugh about.
He had long accepted the presence of this unseen observer in their lives, if reluctantly. He had made some futile attempts to persuade her to terminate her warlock pact, years ago, but her stance on the matter was unrelenting. ‘Fuckface’ (Astarion still cringed at what she so freely called the creature) was there to stay, and the most surefire way to get her to bristle was to try to interfere in her dealings with the fey.
Over the years, sometimes her patron would retreat for long stretches of time - there wasn’t much need for its favours in the city after all - but it was clear it had been very active in her mind lately. She would normally share the fey’s quips with him, or complain about it when it was acting up, but of late he was not privy to anything that went on between them.
It wasn’t so much that he had to know everything - he wouldn’t feel the need or desire to intrude on whatever nonsense the two inane creatures were whispering to each other at all, if it wasn’t for the overall distracted daze Oddie seemed to have been in for days. This was something altogether different to anything that had come before.
He had had enough. He would find out today. Hells, he would find out now - waiting longer meant risking wasting another day only to end up not being able to discuss anything, and he was already wound tight as a string.
Approaching her head on carried a risk of spooking her like a wild animal, and who knew which way she’d dart with her reaction once she was startled. No, he would need to distract and pacify her as he stomped through the eggshells.
She was standing at the podium in the vestibule, studying the guest list. There was a lull in the comings and goings of their attendees, and she was alone.
He circled behind her, dragging his fingertips across her waist and down her hip, his motions reminiscent of a cat that was showing affection or marking its territory. He nuzzled her ear lightly as he came to a stop beside her.
He noted with satisfaction the minute change in her breathing and the way she leaned ever so slightly against him, though she otherwise continued to ignore him in favour of the reservation book.
“You’ve been very bad,” he purred in her ear.
A sly smile played on her face.
“I won’t dispute that,” she replied. “Though you’ll need to tell me what I’ve done wrong this time.”
He dipped lower, brushing his lips against the sensitive bite marks on her neck. His markings, stark on her otherwise unmarred neck, he thought smugly before reminding himself not to get distracted. She shivered and cast a glance around them, to check that they were still alone. She was about to say something, no doubt to tell him that this wasn’t the time or place for this little game, when he raised his mouth back to her ear.
“I know you and your patron have been keeping secrets from me,” he grated, nipping at her earlobe and planting his arms on the lectern, encasing her within.
Her smile faltered and she half-turned to look back at him, surprised. What appeared to be guilt and a touch of confusion flashed on her features before she re-collected herself.
“Fuckface has been droning in my ear, yes,” she said, turning back away, resolving to respond to his words rather than his actions. “That’s hardly a secret.”
“What does it want?” Astarion asked, pleased that he still seemed to have the upper hand. He pressed against her ass, using one hand to tilt her chin and turn her head to make her look him in the eyes. “Hmm?”
“It’s...” she hesitated.
‘Hells below, just don’t say it’s nothing,’ Astarion thought to himself.
“It’s a long story,” she concluded.
“So start telling me,” he said, his other hand sliding down her thigh and sneaking into the split of her skirt.
“Godsdamnit, Astarion.” Her breath hitched, but she turned to face him, the need to maintain a semblance of decorum breaking through her confusion and arousal at last. “Not here," she hissed.
“We can relocate, if you like,” he smirked.
With that, he pressed on, until she had no choice but be walked backwards until her back was pinned against a wall off the side of the vestibule, partially concealed by a column.
“Now will you tell me?” he asked, coyly.
“I’ll tell you at the end of the night,” she conceded. “I promise.”
The tone of her voice suggested that whatever it was wasn’t ominous and that he could believe her, and he relaxed, somewhat. For the moment, at least, that question could be set aside. However, another problem had arisen.
“And what am I supposed to do with this now?” he asked, looking down at the bulge in his pants, pressing into her hip.
“That predicament of yours isn’t my concern,” she said, clearly becoming emboldened - too bold for his liking, in fact - again. “Tuck it away.”
“I can think of one place to tuck it away,” he murmured, looking into her eyes, continuing to grind against her slowly.
“Funny,” she grinned at his corniness despite herself. “But I’m not about to drop everything and leave for a quickie.”
“Who said anything about leaving?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes, “we both know you’re not going to fuck me here with all these people around.” Much to his pleasure, he heard her heart rate pick up, in contrast to her apparent bravado.
“Hmm? You’re so sure about where I will and won’t fuck you..?” he said, unrelenting. “Is that a challenge, darling..?”
She only wet her lips and continued to hold his gaze, without attempting to escape his grasp or trying to push him away. The look on her face was becoming more and more mischievous and defiant by the second, however. This was all the encouragement he needed.
“So it is…” He quickly glanced back to check whether anyone was behind them, then looked upwards, before grabbing and lifting her by the hips. She gasped and wrapped her legs around him, reflexively, clasping her arms around his neck. “Hold on tight.”
Before she could react, he quickly scaled, spiderlike, up the wall, as she clung on to him, continuing up onto the ceiling, past the vestibule and into the theatre proper, until they were among the beams above the audience.
A vampire’s spider climb ability changed the very way gravity affected them. Astarion’s hair and clothing fell against his body that way it would ordinarily. A hat would even stay on, should he be standing upside down.
The same could not be said about anything he tried to carry with him, and this included Asmodea.
She let out a muffled squeal as her body pressed hard against his once they reached the ceiling. She had, once again, found herself in a predicament she could not get out of.
Asmodea swore and cast a darkness spell to try to conceal them. This section of the theatre was dim, but with at least a hundred people below them already, this was not something she wanted to risk being exposed. The music being played would hopefully cover any sounds they might make.
As all those concerns raced through her mind, Astarion seemed to be having the time of his life.
He reached down to run his hand up her thigh on the side where her dress was split with a high slit, until he reached her panties.
“You won’t be needing these.”
The little scrap of silk and lace went flying into the crowd as he simply tore them off.
She wasn’t sure whether it was just an act he put on, but as he went through the motion of tossing them away, for a moment it felt like his body would lose balance and he would also go flying down into the audience, taking her along with him, and she let out a small involuntary yelp, clinging on to him tighter.
“It’s fine, I’ll break your fall,” he laughed. “And someone else will break mine – they'll think it’s all a part of the show, as long as no one dies.”
She snickered despite herself, heart racing.
“We could hire some of those vampire Ivar warned you about and have them-” she was cut off as he caught her lips in a kiss, pinning her tightly between him and the ceiling with his full body weight.
Being suspended that way was the strangest sensation. She didn’t know what to do with her legs: no matter what - she felt like she was on the cusp of falling. She had no choice but to simply place her full trust in Astarion, hooking one leg around his, looping the other around his hips, as he slowly but deliberately ground them into hers.
“I’ll need your help with my pants unless you want me to take my hands off the ceiling again,” he breathed in her ear.
“What’s that, you didn’t think this through?” she teased.
“You do realise I can just stand on my feet and fuck you completely upside down..?” he said wryly. “It’s your choice...”
Asmodea cursed again and hurriedly reached down to unlace his pants. This was not a topic he would joke about.
He breathed in relief as she finally released his cock.
She stroked his length with feather-light movements of her fingers, circling down to his balls with her fingertips until she reached a spot where she knew he was most ticklish. His cock twitched between them as he shuddered, drawing a breath through his teeth, and groaned.
“Behave, darling, I won’t warn you again,” he murmured in her ear, a dangerous note in his voice.
“I’ll behave,” she giggled and whispered sweetly, taking his shaft into her hand to stroke it slowly but firmly, and reaching down with her other hand to pull and jerk the skirt of her dress out of the way.
“Good,” Astarion whispered hoarsely, as she spread a drop of precum over his cockhead with her thumb. “But you can do better than that.”
She continued to play with his cock as she guided it between her legs, not allowing it to dip inside yet, but grinding against it, covering it with her slick as Astarion rolled his hips, running his length against her, grazing her clit with its head.
“Good girl,” he purred in her ear. “Very good, very wet girl… Is it the audience beneath us that has you so hot and bothered..? Do you want to put on a different show for them..?”
“I would never,” she groaned.
“I’m not asking whether you would, I’m asking whether you want to,” he whispered. “All those eyes on you, while I do whatever I want with you?”
She found herself clenching around nothing and hurried to guide him inside, as he eagerly pushed himself in, filling her completely.
She hoped he didn’t notice the little desperate whine she let out at his words before that, but he did - of course he did.
“You do, don’t you?” Astarion whispered as he began thrusting into her. He was forced to keep his movements shallow as the sheer force of gravity pressed their bodies tightly together, making him grind hard against her clit. The additional pressure and friction was sweet, so sweet between her legs, and she moaned wantonly, not sure herself whether from the sensation or from the obscene images filling her mind.
Astarion reached to grab her wrists and held them over her head against the ceiling, one-handed, as he pulled the bodice of her dress down with his other hand, exposing her breasts.
“A whole crowd watching your tits bounce with my every thrust,” he continued, hoarsely.
She was coming apart, equally helpless before the rumble of his voice whispering obscenities in her ear, and the incessant rhythmical rocking of his hips.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Damn this man, she thought. It took her everything to maintain the darkness spell, as she felt her pleasure building quickly - too quickly for her dignity’s liking - but she was beyond caring.
As chance would have it, she was unable to contain a loud moan just as the music went silent for a second. The audience below them laughed but didn’t seem to be able to tell where the sound came from, and they remained undetected.
Astarion was too close to his own peak to continue to taunt her.
“That’s it, don’t hold back,” he groaned.
She couldn’t hold back any longer, not unless she actually wanted the darkness spell to slip and dissipate. The thought of truly being exposed in this precarious position, the urgency of it all, and the sheer merciless pumping of Astarion’s cock in her hole finally sent her spasming uncontrollably around his hard length, as he continued to fuck her through her desperate mewls, even as she bit into his shoulder trying to stifle her moans.
Her vice-like clenching pulled him to the edge faster than he would have liked. He snarled and released her arms, pushing against the ceiling with his hands, to try to give himself more room to deepen his thrusts. Understanding what he needed without words, Asmodea pressed her hands against his chest for leverage, letting him chase his own release.
The rhythm he held earlier stuttered as his hips crashed into hers, almost as though of their own accord.
“You shameless… fucking… whore…” he rasped, accentuating every word with a forceful thrust, until he finally spilled inside her, with a feral groan.
“Gods…” he gasped, as he fell back against her, stilling and letting her relax against him, lying suspended on his body. “…We need to do this again.”
She only chuckled softly and wrapped herself around him with a sigh of contentment, as he drew her into a kiss that contrasted impossibly in its tenderness to the indecent things that left his mouth just earlier.
Moments later, as he pulled out of her, Asmodea felt, and then observed over Astarion’s shoulder, with what can only be described as bemused dread, as dribbles of semen dripped from between her legs and onto the unsuspecting audience below.
“Get us down, NOW,” she hissed. It was one thing for a pair of mysterious panties to fall on someone’s head – frankly that was very much on brand for their establishment, but raining down sperm onto their guests might just be taking things a tad far. Even at Sharess’s one would first need to consent before something like that might occur.
Astarion choked back a laugh and scrambled toward the opposite wall. For some reason, getting down was always more difficult for him than climbing up.
She wasn’t sure when the darkness spell had worn off – hopefully only after they began their descent, but as they collapsed on top of each other once Astarion finally half-stumbled, half-fell off the wall, they found Frederic, the emcee, tutting disapprovingly and shaking his head, as he tried to hold a curtain in place that concealed their blundering attempts to regain verticality in a dignified manner.
“Curious time and manner to try to clear the spiderwebs... Ah, madam, no, your hair… Your dress! Tsk, I simply cannot allow you into my theatre looking like this,” he chided his employers. “Off with you, make yourselves presentable!” The man’s serious facade finally cracked as he winked at them, before they hurried off, snickering, up the nearest service stairs before anyone else noticed them.
The mirth had worn off by the time they reached the bedroom.
“Did you honestly decide to seduce me instead of just asking me about my patron?” she said, exasperated.
“I have asked, days ago - you said you’d tell me later,” Astarion snapped back. “Well, it is later now.”
“And I said I’d tell you at the end of the night - it’s not the end of the night yet,” she retorted.
Astarion crumpled up the shirt he had just taken off and flung it onto the floor, giving in to his frustration.
“If I have to sit and wait like a dog for whatever scraps you’ll give me, will you at least tell me why you’re lying?” Astarion ground out, sitting on their bed. “Is there something so terrible you think I can’t handle it? Whatever it is, I don’t need you to coddle me.”
“I’m not ‘coddling’ you,” she protested, sighing. “It’s actually the complete opposite of what you think…”
He furrowed his brows but didn’t say anything, and she continued.
“I think I’m on the cusp of good, really good news,” she started, picking at her nails, “but yes, I haven’t been ready to talk to you, because, well… I’ve been worried it’s all an impossible ruse, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up for nothing. Not until there was some kind of guarantee, or I was sure there’s no catch.”
“Your patron’s a fey, of course there’s a catch,” said Astarion, his tone softening somewhat. “Well, we can judge whether it’s realistic or not together, whatever it is - so what is it?”
She looked away, breathing a soft laugh, and shook her head.
“You’ll say it’s stupid and that I’m being naive.”
“Darling, if even you think it’s stupid - it very well may be. But for hells’ sake, just tell me.”
“Alright,” she said, approaching him and perching on the bed next to him, pausing to think how to begin before continuing. “So… we’re amending the contract,” she began, “and no, before you say anything, we haven’t agreed on the exact terms yet,” she added hastily. “There are some things Fuckface wants - mostly minor, but also they want me to leave Baldur’s Gate for a while-” Astarion tried to interject, but she kept talking. “-and yes, you can come with me. If you want. They want me to be ready to take on some task for them. And no, I don’t know the details yet - they won’t tell me, but I can back out of it anytime, it would just mean that they won’t have to uphold their end of the bargain, but there wouldn’t be any repercussions for me.”
“Slow down.” Astarion finally got a word in. “And what is their end of the bargain, exactly..?”
Asmodea took a deep breath and clasped her hands.
“They said they could grant me a boon.”
“Alright. What’s the boon..?” Astarion asked cautiously.
“This is where you’ll tell me I’m being stupid.” Asmodea bit her lip and grinned.
“You’re stalling. What boon?” he asked, impatiently, looking at this creature before him, still covered in flaked whitewash and dust, a string of cobweb dangling from her hair, impish look on her face. She looked as mad as the words that followed out of her mouth.
“A boon of immortality.”
Thank you for reading! Find the fic on AO3 as well.
Tags:
@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tragedybunny @spunky-89
@lariatbunny @whiskeyskin @asterordinary @wingsy-keeper-of-songs @spacebarbarianweird
@brabblesblog @littlejuicebox @icybluepenguin @snowfolly @ayselluna
@mj-bites @bardic-inspo
#astarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#smut#astarion smut#bg3 smut#astarion fanfiction#bg3 fanfiction#astarion x tav#astarion fanfic#bg3 fanfic#astarion x oc#astarion x f!oc#astarion x female tav#astarion x asmodea#bloodbang chronicles#asmodea
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I was thinking of Sylvanas and her narrative and I remembered that scene in War Crimes where she breaks down and thinks how foolish it was of her to believe she can love and how her pain from trying to feel that was a warning that in the end she "[...] would be left alone. Again, and always"
And I thought when reading that, well that's terrible, surely something good will happen to her right? Surely something good happens and makes her feel that trusting and loving and hoping aren't mistakes and wanting them doesn't make her weak and being undead doesn't change how worthy she is of them!..
And then BtS and BfA and Shadowlands come and Sylvanas is turned into a complete monster, rejected by Alleria, gets her connection with Forsaken severed as well, gets used and deceived by the guy responsible for the Lich King (whom she still trusted because thought them similar), has her only romantic interest killed, gets called a monster by a pre-trauma version of *herself*, and then sent to atone in the Maw, being alone (without any humanoid capable of speech) in there for what's been at least 5 years. Like what the fuck :/
I also love how like books have stuff like Sylvanas hearing her friends calling her monster (when she was just freed from Arthas) or Vereesa saying she's not her beloved sister.
And Sylvanas thinks "perhaps they're right" and "I am... and I am not" and absolutely nothing fucking happens to tell her that they're not right and it's not okay to think that, no, quite the opposite, she's just "evolved" into becoming people she hated most: mostly Arthas, plus with a Garrosh-like plot in BfA :/
Speaking of her own perception of herself, in the book after the ambush on Arthas she has these doubts: "She was still Sylvanas. Wasn't she?"
It makes me ultra sad because while in Edge of Night we get stuff like her concluding "no she was the same, in death as in life", but the way BfA went, it led to "I believe Sylvanas Windrunner is well and truly lost" and the added Shadowlands soul shard thing went into "I died trying to stop that monster only to wake up haunted by the one with my face"...
That makes the answer for the question of "she was still Sylvanas, wasn't she?" be "nope you're not, Arthas made you into a monster and you're doomed to grow into his own image".
It makes Lor'themar going "She is gone and truth be told I am glad for it. Let's remember her as she was, that was *our* Sylvanas not the monster wearing her face" right, it makes Vereesa's "You're not she who was my beloved sister" be correct, it makes Alleria's "You're a twisted mockery of my sister" correct and I *hate that*, because all that bullshit came *before* Teldrassil, but after Teldrassil her haters can now go "See they were right she was always evil :) real Sylvanas was killed by Arthas", and in universe characters also cannot be blamed because ew why should they treat such a monster better?
And then it's Sylvanas who needs to apologize and atone and seek amends and feel regrets but nothing is required of her family and friends from high elf days.
Ah, in the same theme, I also love the book having a moment of her thinking:
Do we get something about her still being herself and others having no right to treat her the way they did and... ah ye of course not it's completely true Banshee Queen is something separate and evil and here, have the Ranger General put back in, because clearly Arthas' actions mutilated her so thoroughly there was no trace of her old seft left to be saved, and OF COURSE, only after *that* do her ex friends and family express a feeling of "Aw I'd wish to spend more time with her it's the first time I see Sylvanas may be back"
The way her sisters are written I wonder if they even love Sylvanas at all.
They seem to only like that idealized version of her when she was alive that they remember. Why would they wish to speak to that MONSTER that replaced her in undeath?
Ask her how it feels to be undead? What exactly happened in Quel'thalas and how it felt to be under Arthas? Ask why did she join the Horde? Ask how she came to lead the Forsaken? Ask what she did after Arthas died? Ooof no that would be so tough to say, that would be a SAD talk, they'll have to listen to this horrible nasty angry banshee trauma dumping on them, and they just want their sweet noble SISTER back, who doesn't have such burdens :) How good it is the magic soul shit fulfilled their wish :)
Also bruh what does that even mean for Sylvanas herself?
What the fuck was she supposed to do to make them see her as their sister BEFORE the soul mending shit???
Somehow turn off her red eye glow? Stop being angry? (aka calm down and not feel a burning hatred for being brutalized by a manchild of a knight, rejected by everyone and failing to take revenge on him :/).
Kneel before them and say she's a horrible elf being and deserves everything bad happening to her?.. (Their reunions happened before Teldrassil, where most of her crimes were out of a desperate desire to survive in a hostile world)
Forget her silly trauma and simply behave like she did pre death? (Easier said than done)
These bitches did nothing to help Sylvanas heal and now that she's magically restored (and I don't even think it's even healed, she's just now plagued with guilt about doing everything she did), they do wanna talk to her. Yay.
Hm maybe The War Within has it better? Alright-
"Lost my sister to myself" Jesus fuck.
That's what you have to say about your sister who got murdered, raised, tortured, enslaved, forced to participate in the genocide of your species, then rejected by friends, family and Alliance?
Yeah the fact she killed herself after being denied closure against her abuser and after being sent to suffer in hell fell under the influence of a guy who said he understands her and they're similar and showed her that even afterlives aren't fair is TOTALLY just on her!
Yep totally just Sylvanas losing herself to herself and not the fact none of you assholes extended a hand and tried to ask her how she felt at any point of her miserable unlife.
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Do you have anyprediction wrt the "you should fear the other one" line? Because if the other one is really Louis and Danny is being warned about him after ep 5...oh boy. I can't help but thinking about one of Assad's most recent interviews where he points out how you never know where this show is taking you. One day Danlou are allies and the next day who knows. If it is really a way to paint Armand in a better light for Daniel at least in Dubai what could it be for? And how will it dialogue with what it's going to be happening in Paris? Maybe Raglan James and co are not so well informed about who the real danger for Daniel actually is/was but maybe he is actually TOO well informed even for a Talamasca member👀
I mean... when Louis snaps, he ... snaps.
But - I still think that could be a red herring^^.
We've seen several instances by now where what we saw in the trailer was not quite that which happened in the scene...
The thing is, and this is something Daniel cannot quite understand at this point, because he has still forgotten - Armand truly is the last to harm him now. He is not the one Daniel needs to fear.
But ... I mean, there have to be other vampires in that penthouse. I would BET on it.
And so we might yet get to see who they mean there.
#Anonymous#ask nalyra#iwtv s2#iwtv#amc iwtv#interview with the vampire#interview with the vampire s2#amc interview with the vampire
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i'm still here........ and convinced he thinks mitch might disappear if he takes his eyes off of him for one second. what a ridiculous series of images, i'm so so......... SO obsessed with them
#1634#like. he is jsut.. LOOKING#L👁👁KING#and cannot stop#any other normal human being would not be like tjfkdlszxnj#like whats he waiting for.. is there some inside joke here#did mitch have to leave n come back for some silly reason n hes like. waiting to see mitchs reaction like#the cute dedicated puppy he is.#ik we talk abt mitch being puppy coded but like. what is all this then. JKFLDSLFK#devotion and love knows no bounds it really doesnt#the way 3 seconds of footage will keep me fed for hours-to-days like im sorry but its just.#auston matthews#mitch marner#there is no way around... whatever the hell this is#adn their joy abt getting to play hockey and be near each other#its one thing to hear abt these commentators n insiders talk abt them as a pair in a lot of ways. n know those things bc they get to see#them behind the scenes all the time#but the glimpses we receive.... ohhhohohoho boy#its a new year. new teammates. but always them#every day i convince myself mitch is such a significant reason austons still here and every day i prove myself correct#psychoanalyzing clips of them to DEATH.
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Janeway in 'Nothing Human' vs Tuvok in 'Resolutions'
There's something here I know there is I can almost wrap my teeth around it.
#I can't watch Nothing Human bc the puppet really disconcerts me#but I cannot believe Janeway really came into B'Elanna's room after all that and the FIRST thing she says...her OPENER is#'Wow it smells awful in here~!'#DUDE....................TIME AND PLACE#HEHEHHE#C'MON MAN#B'Elanna: Is [putting it behind us] an order? / Janeway [normal!]: Yes.#'And what emotion is that?' C'MON MAN!!!!!!#Janeway & Tuvok#Kathryn Janeway#Tuvok#I can see why she and Tuvok are friends#'I understand you're upset but fall in line'#You can be upset but not if effects your work#<- Something which would be fine on a regular ship but is very difficult on Voyager#I think Janeway's certain coldness or ruthlessness which can be aimed at either friend or foe is an interesting#aspect of her personality#Ex: She and B'Elanna COULD have feasibly had a more touching scene together to close out the episode but they don't#I don't know if I'm explaining myself well right now I'm a bit ill and more than a bit tired#Something about uhh maybe....people under their command vehemently and emotionally disagreeing with them/their decisions??#you can disagree with me but not if you don't follow me anyway#Voyager a ship full of contradictions#they have to all work together and they are all closer emotionally than any other starship due to their situation#but they are also still 'at work' and are expected to follow orders. It's like a 'casual' hierarchy but it's still a hierarchy#and you can't fall too far out of line bc you're someone dear to me#but you're also a valued cog in the machine#and even though you ARE valued you ARE still a cog in the machine#but you're also my dear friend. and all of these things are true at once.#all of that of course but also Janeway & Tuvok are displaying a very particular kind of shared leadership style in these moments#Janeway is obviously on the whole MUUUCH more charismatic and understanding than Tuvok but still - when push comes to shove...
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Make him pay. (insp.)
Gif 1: An image of Eddie Munson from Stranger Things celebrating in the forest by pumping his fists and then pointing toward offscreen. Text reads: "The world should have protected you"
Gif 2: An image of Dustin Henderson from Stranger Things in the woods, opening his arms in invitation. Image switches to Eddie's face as he squares his shoulders in resolve. Text reads: "But you have been asked to protect it."
Gif 3: An image of Eddie in a green, grassy field, testing his new shield, made from a garbage can lid and spikes. Dustin sits in the background, watching. Text reads: "What an Honor..."
Gif 4: An image of Eddie in the Upside Down, dressed for battle and looking worried. The color slowly fades from the image until it is in black and white. Text reads: "What an Injustice"
#Stranger Things#Stranger things 4#Eddie munson#justice for eddie#my gifs#if possible I am even LESS over it than previously stated#gif image descriptions under the cut#fun fact: the font for the big words#is called 'Rage Italic'#also this is my very first 'art' gifset#one that's not just lines from the show like a moving screen cap#and I'm very pleased with it actually#the scene clips I had in mind ended up fitting better than I thought they would#like I already thought they would! but the pointing??#god that was cool to see#I cannot believe I can just make gifs and no one can stop me#I can just have ideas and then make them into little moving pictures#to inflict on others#I'm so goddamn excited just to exist and do stuff#learning and creating things is so wonderful
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actually you know whose reaction I'd be really curious about, potentially coming across fourteen in the shops? Francine!
#francine jones#martha jones#the doctor#dw#doctor who#the (second?) last time they saw each other she nodded to him#and i tend to interpret that as a mix of 'thank you for talking me down' 'hey we survived hell together' and 'thank goodness#martha is coming back to us and you and i both know it's the right thing even though i know you're a fucking mess too but also pls go'#not in the sense that martha was trapped with ten but that ten maybe Could have convinced her to stay potentially#or even just that francine was afraid that ten might do so/martha could possibly choose ten over them#also just that in some ways the jones fam saw the doctor and the master being An Terrifying Other Species moreso than most#there's that relief when martha comes back like they weren't sure she'd be walking back inside#so they dont end it on Bad terms technically#but also potentially... sees fourteen and it's a trigger? sees fourteen and is afraid for martha?#sees fourteen and assumes the end of the world is coming back? sees fourteen and is just... oh... hoped id never see you again#sees fourteen and it's an awkward british 'how have things been? good. you? yeah good. got a garden now. oh that's nice'#(was francine there when martha was on that joint call -- she was wasnt she?#i cannot remember if there's any Looks between them there that indicate how she feels about ten at that point)#anyway i think francine should've been in martha's final scene i think francine was the most important part of martha's life#that symbolised the ways that ten had affected that life#and seeing how francine potentially felt after end of time would have been such a strong indicator of how that story ended there#the tenth doctor#the fourteenth doctor#doctor who spoilers#dw spoilers
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remember obi wan kenobi?? man was he gay
#ESPECIALLY general kenobi#MAN THAT WAS SOME GAY SHIT HE PULLED IN LITERALLY EVERY CLONE WARS EP#im in love w him#reading 'kenobj' rn and he's literally the sweetest ever its from other ppls pov so we can see how ACTUALLY charming he is tf that man is#wooing everyone while in exile UNKNOWINGLY i might add#he's so ughashhsheh#HONESTLY ok HONESTLY its a BIT boring bc theres orrin or whoever tf i cannot fucking stand and i have literally drag myself thru his pov#and there are literally chapters where ben is not in it and im at this point only reading for his meditation scenes (where we kinda?#get his pov) and for a mention of cody bc i will not rest till i read about ben missing cody#anyway to end this long rambling he was gay (or bi) and idc what you have to say#AND ppl seem to forget that they announced that he was bi AND aroace like???? HE'S AROACE ISN'T THAT THE BWST THING YOU EVER HEARD????#ok u don't have to read all of this im just bored in french class and venting about obi passes the time so#no cause like he had chemistry with fucking everyone ( i am myself am a codywan shipper but we got to admit that man could FLIRT alright)#even with general grievous i was so fucking shocked u dint even jnow when he started HARD CORE flirting w the droid mid battle#i love him so mucv he's so so SO#obi wan kenobi#ben kenobi#codywan#gay#aroace
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