#if i kill one person i will not be able to stop
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but pervy roller derby coach joel and seasoned derby girl fucking in joels truck after a bout when ezra finds them with the windows all fogged up… ofc he joins in
You fucking know it!
Roller Derby Coach!Joel Miller x F!Reader x Boyfriend!Ezra
tags: unprotected p-in-v, double creampie, Ezra and Joel being spiteful towards one another. praise, degredation, use of the word "whore" but in a sexy way
--
He wanted to offer you a personal congratulations after helping your Jammer get point after point, resulting in your team's win. 157 to 163. It was a close one and your offense is what made the difference. Joel lost count of how many times you knocked the opposing Jammer off the track, running them back and killing their spirit. He's surprised you still have any energy left after all that work.
But here you are in his truck with him, bouncing on his cock like it's nothing. You got nothing on but your sports bra and youre soaked in sweat with your gear airing out in his flat bed.
Then Ezra’s wandering around the parking lot outside the rink, wondering where the hell you are because there's an after party to go to. And he already smoked a couple joints with the referees, and you still hadn't appeared. Then he sees the foggy window, the way the truck is bouncing, and he can't help but creep closer. His whole body floods with heat when he sees your gear. He looks around, sees if anybody has eyes on him before opening up the passenger door.
"Shit!" Joel curses.
You both stop in a panic. Your hands gripping his biceps to stabilize yourself.
Ezra's all smiles. "You don't think she's done enough work tonight, Coach?" He chuckles at your silent, shocked faces. He climbs inside and shuts the door behind him. "Our superstar here requires appreciation. Not more strain on her supremely effective musculature." He crawls closer.
"How 'boutchu--" Joel begins.
Ezra wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.
Joel’s hands are still tight on your hips. Watching Ezra's tongue meet yours makes his cock twitch and pisses him off at the same time. He grunts.
Ezra's hazy eyes slide over to Joel's after he pulls away from you. "How 'bout I what, Joel?"
Joel snarls and shoves Ezra back with a broad palm to his chest. "How 'boutchu see with your eyes and not with your hands?" He turns back to you. "She's mine right now, and I ain't gonna let you touch her 'til I'm done with her."
Ezra chuckles and undoes his pants, pulling his hardening cock out. "Go ahead and fill her up good, then." He smirks and begins to stroke himself. "Patience is a virtue, and although I am far from a virtuous man, I have been known to wander briefly on the path of the principled." He breaths deeply through his nose, taking in the smell of sweat and sex. "A path more easily endured when enticed by heavenly rewards."
Joel rolls his eyes. "Does he ever shut the fuck up?"
Ezra chuckles again. "You best make haste, old man, before that little blue pill wears off and you go softer than an ice cream cone in the Fourth of July sunshine."
Joel smirks at Ezra and shakes his head. He turns back to you, his hands slide up your sides, grip your breasts through your bra. "You ever seen me take a pill?"
"No," you shake your head. You're so overwhelmed by the situation, you're surprised you were able to say anything at all. And Joel's strong fingers are working your chest, working the muscles in your hips and thighs.
"I don't need no pill," he says with a haughty grin, thrusting up into you. "I don't need her to ride me, neither," he adds for good measure. "I can make her come with my cock alone." He holds you still and you angle your hips slightly as his own hips jump in the seat. "Come on, baby. Show 'im how good this cock is. Come on, now."
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and dig your face into his neck, moaning and keening with every strong thrust. You hear Ezra moaning, too. You turn your head to the side and see him panting, biting his lips. He goes from jerking himself off to squeezing his cock at the base and shaking it, staving off his orgasm with a desperate look on his face. It's all so much, you're sent over the edge--your orgasm barely noticable amidst Joel's relentless assault. How can you come down when everything around you is still building and escalating?
"Gonna fill this pussy up, now," Joel groans. His meaty claws close and spread your asscheeks as he begins to grind into you.
You try to remind yourself to breathe as you squeeze him tighter, whimpering and panting.
"Gonna give you all this come," he groans again and you feel a rush of warmth inside of you.
"Come here, baby," you hear Ezra speak up. "Lemme feel that." And before you know it, you're in Ezra's lap. His cock slides readily into yours and he pants and moans pathetically. "Oh fuck, oh shit, oh shit, baby. That's so good." His hips are barely moving as he holds you close against him, but the squelch of your messy pussy is loud. "Mmmm-that's so good. that's that good shit right there. Oh fuck, baby. Gonna fill you up, too. Mmhmm--gonna give you that sloppy cunt, huh? You like that, baby?" His eyes go wide and you're locked in, nodding and agreeing to whatever he says. "You like bein naughty? You like being filthy?"
At this point, it doesn't matter what either of them say. You'll agree to just about anything that comes out of their mouths--and their cocks.
"Fuckin filthy," he mutters with a snarl and brings his hand down to your ass with a harsh, solid slap. "Fuckin filthy whore. Nnnngg---" He comes inside of you.
You feel dizzy. Spent. Tired. Dazed. You should probably hydrate soon. And you wonder if anyone else on the team is looking for the three of you. You hope Joel has some napkins somewhere in his car, but you're not too worried because you have a pack of wet wipes in your gear bag. You never thought you'd use them for something like this, but... so it goes.
No one suspects a single thing at the after party. You throw back a few shots with your teammates and leg wrestle on the bar floor. You dance to the salsa music someone is playing on the juke box. You consider doing those pelvic floor exercises you saw on youtube once.
------------
a/n: I love life and I love being alive.
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The Southern Raiders
Been meaning to make my own post about this episode for a while now, so hear it is. The main thing I hear about this episode is that Aang didn't understand Katara's pain at all but Zuko did. The notion that a genocide survivor doesn't understand another genocide survivor is certainly one hell of a take, and it's very stupid. Are we really going to forget the air nomad genocide?
Aang lost EVERYTHING because of the war. And to make it worse? He feels guilty because he wasn't there to stop it from happening (even though he wouldn't be able to do much since he hadn't mastered the four elements yet) because he ran away from his duties as the avatar. When Aang finds Monk Gyatso's body in the Southern Air Temple episode, he's overcome with so much grief and anger that he triggers the avatar state:
Katara herself even compares what she's been through to what Aang was feeling in this moment by saying "I know how hard it is to lose the people you love! I went through the same thing when I lost my mom." Certainly sounds like two people who understand each other perfectly if you ask me. Also, in the Lost Adventures comics, we're shown that the Fire Nation used a dirty tactic to smoke out any other airbenders that might have escaped from the genocide.
We see how happy Aang was to learn that some airbenders may have survived, only to find out that it was all a lie to capture any remaining survivors. At the end of the comic he looks disappointed and crushed knowing that the possibility that air nomads fell for this trick and were killed as a result.
A lot of people take Katara saying "I knew you wouldn't understand" to Aang as her saying that he doesn't understand her pain, but if you actually look at the context? That's not what she's saying at all. What she means is that she knew that Aang wouldn't understand her need for VENGEANCE. For her desire to kill her mother's killer. Because Aang was taught that revenge isn't the answer. Even though Aang absolutely understands how she felt, something that he says himself:
In both of those moments he felt extreme anger and hatred, both strong negative feelings that would have caused him to lash out and do something that he would regret later on. Who stops him in both cases? Katara. She calms him down (and can I just say that I think it's really poetic that in this specific episode, Aang's words are what calms Katara down in the end, and is why she decided to spare Yohn Rha?) in his moments of rage, something that he's grateful for.
Another argument that I've seen is that Zuko understands her pain more than Aang because he also lost his mother. While I can see why people make this comparison, those are two entirely different situations. Ursa was banished because she protected Zuko from being killed when he was a child. Which means that she's still alive (as we later find out from those horrible comics). Kya, on the other hand, was KILLED because she protected Katara by saying that she was the waterbender that they were looking for. This happened in a genocidal raid by the Fire Nation. Safe to say that Zuko can never understand what that feels like.
Also, it's pretty crazy to me how people can say that Aang was wrong in this episode, when Zuko HIMSELF says that Aang was actually right, and that what Katara needed in the end was revenge. Aang knows Katara a lot better than Zuko does, and he knows that killing the man who killed her mom would have absolutely destroyed Katara because of the kind of person she is. Just like Aang remembering how he killed all of those Fire Nation soldiers in the North Pole while he was in the avatar state and being controlled by his past lives and the ocean spirit caused him to have nightmares and be terrified of what the avatar state can do. Both of them are alike in that regard. The closest thing I can say that Zuko understands about Katara is her anger. Boy spent 3 seasons being angry so he definitely understands that. But other than that? He doesn't understand her, which is to be expected since he just joined them a few episodes ago, and spent a whole year chasing them and trying to capture Aang. So he's just started getting to really know everyone on a personal level. In conclusion, Aang did indeed understand Katara, and his words were exactly what she needed to hear.
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I can offer you an idea of yandere alastor.. What would it be like if alastor as a child knew the reader... Like I imagine alastor as a child not knowing how to act properly like a human, and the reader as a good best friend helping him seems more human (and not because the child reader is scared of him) ... Actually, what would happen?
Wrote this instead of working on my finals hope you enjoyed it!
Yandere! Alastor x Childhood friend! Reader
Warning: Animal death, blood, its YANDERE
WC: ~1.5k
Charlie dragged the whole hotel for another ‘trust’ session, this time, she had the great idea for the sinners to share stories from when they were alive. Granted, some of them were eager to share, namely Nifty and Angel Dust, Husk would share some here or there, although it's mostly due to Charlie and Angel pushing him to. Alastor on the other hand kept quiet during the whole ordeal, until the topic of childhood friends came up.
“I had a childhood friend once, such a sweetheart. Wouldn't leave me alone to play with others!,” Alastor let the statement linger in the air, casually sipping on his coffee.
The other members of the Hotel look aat him with mouths agape, shocked and surprised at the fact that THE Alastor, Radio Demon, Dealmaker, HAD FRIENDS? Moreover, a childhood friend?? Someone stayed friends with him since they were children???
“Don't look at me like I am incapable of having proper friendships, and no, you cannot ask them about me as a child because they're simply not a sinner! Oh imagine my disappointment when I didn't find them down here,” his eyes glazed over in slight rage as he thought about how you weren't here.
Very disappointing that I will never be able to hold my beloved again. What I would do to be able to chain them to my side once more…
“Well don't leave us hangin’, whose this sweetheart of you’s?,” the white spider interjected.
He tells them your name, sighing dreamily as he starts to reminisce about the times you were together when you were children.
You were the child of one of his momma's clients, a bubbly little thing, always eager to play with him regardless of how cold he is to you.
His momma was your family's personal tailor, and by God were you a spoiled little thing. Every week you would ask for 2-3 outfits to be created for you, although it looked more like costumes than everyday wear but he doesn't complain, as long as your family treated him and his momma with respect.
Nonetheless, he refuses to be close to you, considering you as a bother, but of course, he would never admit that to you, lest he wants his momma to get in trouble.
He hasn't always looked forward to when his momma brings him to your house, namely due to you clinging to him every time you meet. There's one thing in your mansion that he’s quite fond of though, once he manages to escape from your grasp, he sneaks into the woods behind your house, gazing at all the wildlife roaming around your property.
One time, he found an injured bird crying close to him, it tried to get away from him but he eventually caught it in a tight grip, it chirped and cried but Alastor just gripped tighter and tighter until, pop!
Blood trailed down his hands and onto the forest floor below, unbeknownst to him, he had a huge grin on his face, too pleased with the mutilation of the poor bird. A gasp resonates behind him and he quickly drops the bird, face stilling at the fact that he got caught.
When he turned his body to you, your eyes were full of tears staring at his hands that he didn't bother to hide. He prepared himself to hunt you down to make sure you wouldn't tattle on his momma but your next words made him stop in place.
“Are you okay???” you rushed to his side, pulling out a handkerchief and started to wipe off the blood coating his stained hand.
In response, the child looked at you aghast, stupefied at the concern you were showing, marking yourself vulnerable to the predator towering over your much shorter build. He could kill you if he could, he can lie and tell your parents that a bear found both of you and killed you, that he tried to save you but was unable to. But then again… as you fret over him, a thought passes through his mind.
You are too kind for your own good, just like momma. Don't worry I’ll protect you.
Alastor raises the now somewhat clean hand, and he notes how you didn't even flinch at it, and just looked at him with your wide, innocent eyes. The hand lowers to pat you on the head, ruffling your hair a little bit.
“I am fine, I tried to save a bird but it was too hurt to be saved,” he shows off the bird, face devoid of any emotions.
You frowned at it and suddenly went on your knees and started digging a grave with your hands.
Alastor furrowed his eyebrows and questioned what you were doing, you responded with, “I’m digging a grave for the birdie, I don't want them to die without a proper burial.”
The boy helped you after a few moments of silence. Once you were done, you clasped your hands together, covered in dirt and blood, silently looking at him to do the same. Look at you, as a child of a rich man you shouldn't be on your knees covering yourself in filth, but perhaps he should indulge his angel for a little bit.
As you started praying he couldn't help but let the bitterness consume his mind. God wouldn't care about frivolous things like this, prayers do nothing, if it did, how come he and his momma are still at the mercy of that monster of a man he calls his father?
“Amen.”
You offer your filthy hand to him, gazing at him with a smile that could rival the sun. Perhaps the only good thing that God has done, is sending down an angel for him to play with.
“You should smile more, you look very pretty,” he raises an eyebrow at that, startled by your bluntness. Admittedly, he can feel himself flush at your compliment.
“Do you like it when I smile?” he hums, taking your hand. Both of you started to walk back to your manor.
“I do! Mommy always said ‘you’re never fully dressed without a smile’ and that's why I always smile!”
“Then I'll smile a lot for you,” he tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.
“You're doing it wrong! It's like this,” you show off your smile, toothy and wide.
He tries again and ultimately fails, you pout at him cutely when he failed, and he couldn't help but smile, genuinely smile at that. In response you shout out ‘like that!’, and start vibrating in excitement that you managed to make him smile.
It was almost nightfall when you eventually managed to get home safely, albeit covered in dirt and grime. What greeted you both were your father, stressed beyond belief, and his mother, on the verge of tears. They both rushed to you guys and hugged the both of you, fretting and scolding at how worried they are, they asked you and Alastor what happened and you, being the loudmouth you are, told them the story that you know.
Both adults are relieved to hear that you both are safe, they rushed you to clean yourselves up. Ever since then, Alastor has been looking forward to every visit they had to your house. And every single visit has been a learning moment for him, day by day he learns what you like and what you don't like.
You like gentlemen? The next time you meet, he offers you his arm to hold. Do you like poetry? He memorizes your favourite poems to recite whenever you're bored. Do you like food and cooking? He begs his momma to teach him her infamous Jambalaya and other comfort foods to cook for you.
Alastor molded himself to become your ideal man, the most perfect gentleman that ever existed in your life. But then…
“Then what...? But then what??” Angel exclaimed when Alastor trailed off with a cliffhanger. Everyone leaned towards him, captivated by the story he shared. He smiles cryptically, but still doesn't respond.
“Oh well, it seems like it's almost supper time, I should work on it, wouldn't want to be late for dinner hmm?”
Everyone collectively groaned at the cliffhanger, they wanted to know what happened after, but they couldn't complain much lest they want to be part of Alastor's radio broadcast.
Alastor turns away from them, humming to himself as he walks towards where the kitchen is.
But then you had to die as a saint. You had to marry that disgusting excuse of a man you called your husband, and now he killed you. My beloved, was I not enough? Was I not perfect for you? You would have been safe if you were with me… Don't worry, I made sure that ‘husband’ of yours regretted ever hurting you. May this be an offering to my angel.
A haunting scream pierces through hell, amplified by the speakers scattered around the pride ring.
Support me here so I would be more likely to write more fics 🤭
#yandere x reader#yandere hazbin hotel#yandere hazbin hotel x reader#yandere alastor x reader#yandere alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#alastor x you#Hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel
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*looks at the serial roommate comic*
That’s the moment Alastor stops smiling
Alastor’s friend is dead
His eyes will never be open again
And his heart will no longer beat again
Guy LeBlouff
Alastor’s childhood friend
He’s a kind man
He went to heaven
Because he’s a good person
So why did he get killed?
He did not deserve this
He does not deserve to die
So why did this happen?
He did nothing wrong but be good
Why?
.
.
.
.
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Is the only word running at Alastor’s head right now
As he hugs his friend’s dead body
With tears falling out from his eyes
Sorrow
He feels it so much of it
He never felt this feeling before
The sorrow is too much for him
Because he knew that Guy’s death is permanent
How did this happen?
How did I let this happen?
Alastor thought to himself
Blaming himself for not seeing this happen
And not able to protecting his friend
He eyed the bullet hole at his friend’s head
It’s similar to how he died back then on earth
Suddenly raging with fury
Who?
.
.
.
.
Who did this?
Who did it?
Static
You can hear it everywhere
So loudly
Along with the radios broadcasting horrifying screams
Phones and TV screens malfunctioning
The shadows going out of control
And Alastor the center of it all will find who killed his friend
And why they did this
Just like a detective he will find the culprit
He will get his revenge
With a smile on his face
Because you’re never dressed without one
But he can’t….
How could he?
When his friend is dead
(My first time writing something and I did it on an ask blog unbelievable I know and let’s be honest this is bad you can ignore this if you want)
👀
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Adrei growls. She bangs her arms against the door until it breaks, splintering under her enhanced strength. Her parents locker her inside the room where her father goes when he has his episodes.
But she isn't mad, she's thought this through.
She has sins she needs to amend to. And if anyone tries to chain her up again she'll kill them.
She makes her way through the courtyard with heavy, dragged steps. She crushes the sword of a guard that dares standing between her and her horse. A loud crack echoes as she pushes the guard aside, a limp body colliding with stone and collapsing to the ground.
Someone screams, and Adrei advances.
WHo cares.
She needs to get to her brother. Emyr is in pain and Adrei has allowed that suffering to take place for years, doing absolutely nothing. She swore, as he was departing from the House to be wed, that they would see each other again.
Twice. Twice have she met her brother since then. What she has is fifteen years of letters in which her brother withdrew more and more, parchment becoming progressively more crumpled, stained with ink as if he didn't even have the energy to write anymore. And she did nothing.
But NO MORE.
Her mare neighs, agitated, as she mounts it and pushes it to a fast gallop.
---
Emyr looks up from the desk with a worried frown. He doesn't want to get up, even less to leave the room, but when another loud sound reaches the depths of his room, by now the fourth or fifth one he's heard, he rises.
His clothes are a mess. His hair unwashed, tied up in a bun that would have made him cringe in shame a few years back.
He walks up to the door, but stops just before wrapping his fingers around the handle. He hasn't gotten out in so long... and if his wife sees him, she'll scream and-
Other worrying sounds reach his ears, so Emyr opens the door.
Blood stains greet him.
The ground is washed in gore. Sparse severed limbs lie scattered, and just at the end of the hallway his sister, drenched in blood, is holding off the ground the body of Emyr's wife. He feels locked in place, and isn't able to let out even a sound as Adrei, eyes lifeless and completely black, crushes her neck without effort.
Her body goes limp, then Adrei throws it to the side with very little care.
Emyr wants to throw up.
His oldest sister spots him, then. She takes a step forward and Emyr takes one back, his heart beating loud, but he only feels numb.
His wife is dead.
His prison her House is destroyed.
Adrei freezes.
Everything stays still for long, endless seconds. Some rasping, dying monas fill the silence and nothing else. Then, Emyr starts to advance.
He takes a step forward, then two, until he is standing in front of his sister, until he sees a spark of recognition in her black eyes, consumed by magic induced madness. Emyr has never been a tactile person, he avoids physical contact most days, but he wraps his arms around his sister and buries his face against her neck.
"I'm sorry I took so long," she rasps out.
He clings to her.
"You're free now. I killed them all."
He puls back, exhaling a trembling breath. "They'll hunt us now, Adrei. The Council will want us both."
Adrei just stares, swaying on her feet. Emyr steadies her. He brings her to his room, pullng her to sit on his bed. With trembling hands, he writes a letter, rolls it up and calls for his sparrow.
"To Camelot," Emyr says, seeking aid from the one person that can offer them both protection.
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kiss me;
ivantill, 8.7k
read on ao3
For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?”
Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.
Till couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Surely he had misheard, or maybe he hadn’t actually woken up this morning and he was still dreaming.
His manager looked as real as ever, though, staring at him with a hint of knowing amusement. He couldn’t stand her sometimes. (He loved her.)
“I thought you’d be excited,” she sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. “I guess maybe we should consider pulling out of the movie and – ”
His hand jerked out without his permission, fast as lightning, grabbing her arm. “Don’t even joke about that, Mizi.”
Her answering grin was all teeth. “They’ll want to do a chemistry read, first,” she put her hand over his. “Don’t get too excited. Nothing is guaranteed yet.”
For all they knew, he wouldn’t even get cast. Or if he did, maybe they’d kick Till off the project and replace him if their chemistry wasn’t promising enough. He really hoped it would be. But either way, he would be meeting him.
Till felt himself grinning before he could stop it, “I’m meeting Ivan.”
-
Till couldn’t recall the exact moment he discovered Ivan. To be fair, most people probably couldn’t. He was everywhere, it seemed – commercials, movies, television, even music videos.
What he could recall – as clear as if it’d happened yesterday – was the feeling he had felt. It was like a dam had opened and there was no stopping it. He realized he wanted more out of life.
He didn’t just want to continue being an extra on every set, the side-character who was killed off after one or two episodes.
Since then, he’d been able to build a decent name for himself. He wasn’t Ivan, by any means, but he was well-known enough to get the lead in an upcoming highly anticipated movie. And if the universe smiled upon him, just one last time, he would hopefully get to have Ivan as his love interest.
-
“I am running on exactly two hours of sleep, by the way.”
Mizi snorted, side-eyeing him. “I can tell,” she teased, and he knew it was just that: a joke but he still couldn’t help the sudden rush of insecurity.
As if sensing it by some form of magic, she slowed to a stop in the hallway and took his arm.
“You look great, Till. You haven’t even gotten makeup done yet and you still look amazing.” She squeezed his arm. “You’ve got this, you know that, right?”
He forced a smile. “Don’t you know confidence is my middle name?”
And usually it was true. If there was one thing he had over most of his competition in the industry, it was overflowing confidence.
Mizi smiled back, far more sincere. “Come on,” she said, tugging him along gently. “We don’t want to be late.”
-
Before the chemistry read, he went to get his makeup done as scheduled. Hyuna was no better than Mizi, grinning wildly as she gently applied a bit of concealer under his eyes.
“Let me guess,” she said, “didn’t sleep much?”
Till rolled his eyes, but made sure not to move. “I wonder if every actor has such a nosy makeup artist or is it just me?”
“Hmm, I would say you’re just lucky.” She winked and stepped back. “You look good enough to eat.”
He snorted. If he wasn’t so nervous underneath it all, he might’ve cracked a joke. Like how the only person he wanted to eat him was —
The door swung open, startling him. “Come on – ” he relaxed when he saw it was just Mizi. “We only have a few minutes.”
Quickly stumbling out of the chair, he rushed to her side and followed her into the hallway. As they walked toward the room set aside for their scheduled chemistry read, Mizi looked him up and down, not even trying to be discreet. Till made sure no one was around before quietly flipping her off.
Couldn’t tarnish his reputation and all that.
She giggled, light and airy. “I was just going to say,” she bumped their shoulders together, gentle, “you look good. Don’t let anything bring you down, okay?”
And he knew it wasn’t just empty words; Mizi had been there for him since the start of his career, long before he’d managed to actually make a name for himself. She’d been there with open arms (and an extra large pizza) every time he’d been turned down from a role, every time a casting director had scoffed like he was hilarious for even thinking he had a chance.
It had been hard, then, but motivating. He never wanted to be underestimated ever again. He thought he’d never feel so scared again, walking toward an audition room. It was a pointless fear. He had joked but surely they wouldn’t actually try to kick him out, even if the chemistry read wasn’t a success.
“Break a leg,” Mizi whispered just as they stopped in front of the door.
Till could hear voices through the wood. He concentrated and tried to see if he could pick out Ivan’s voice, in the sea of them, but he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself. He thought he heard him, a familiar drawl he had heard on television a million times, but he could’ve just been imagining it.
Mizi glanced at him, a silent question. He just nodded.
Without another word between them, she turned and opened the door.
-
Till didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath as his eyes scanned the room: it was all the usual people – the casting director sat at the table with two other staff members on each side, a few other stray staff members were scattered around the room.
In the middle of all of them was Ivan.
He was smiling politely as others talked to him, a small quirk of his mouth. Till must’ve stared for a second too long because suddenly Ivan was lifting his head and their eyes met.
Till had seen him a hundred times, at least, through a screen but he wasn’t sure anything could’ve prepared him for this moment.
For seeing him, here, like this, in real life. Ivan was even more stunning in person.
Ivan’s smile stretched just a little wider, barely noticeable. Till should’ve smiled back but he felt like he was frozen.
“Okay,” the casting director – Luka – stood up from the table. “From what I’ve been told, this is your first time meeting, correct?”
Till didn’t even realize he was addressing them until Mizi gave a gentle nudge at his side. He flushed, standing a little taller. He might’ve been meeting his idol, for lack of a better word, but he was still a professional.
“Yes,” he answered, cursing the slight shake to his voice.
Ivan nodded. “I’ve seen him plenty, of course, but never met, no.”
Till felt a shiver down his spine. Ivan. Ivan had seen him before, too, which shouldn’t have been surprising. He had been on a number of notable series by now, but for some reason he still hadn’t been prepared to hear it.
“Wonderful,” Luka said, “Everyone – ” He did a little twirl with his finger, making a point to address everyone in the room. “Out.”
Till knew the process by now. Luka’s process, at least. He could be a little unorthodox. Usually he didn’t mind it, but right now he was already starting to feel sweat pool at the small of his back.
Mizi let out a tiny huff of amusement as she helped to herd everyone out of the room. Last to go was Luka, who didn’t even say a word before closing the door.
If Ivan was confused, he didn’t voice it. For a moment, the room was silent with just the two of them.
“Sorry,” Till said eventually, clearing his throat. He dared a glance in Ivan’s direction; he was standing just a few feet away, a thoughtful quirk to his head. “Luka can be a bit, uh. Unorthodox in his methods. He always likes to give actors a few minutes by themselves before starting the read.”
He was proud of himself; his voice was steady and clear.
Ivan hummed, but still didn’t say anything. Till took advantage of the moment to really look Ivan over. He was beautiful; dark hair swept back with a few loose strands, eyes lined with black – not too much, just enough to somehow make his dark eyes look even darker, his lips shined with a thin layer of gloss, skin clear and perfect.
The way his mouth was twisted, Till could even see his fang. Not literal, of course, it was just his canine – especially sharp and pronounced – but it had always been one of his selling points that fans seemed to like.
He looked like he was conjured up in a lab somehow.
And Till, well. He wasn’t naive. He knew he was attractive – wouldn’t have gotten this far in the industry if he wasn’t – but he felt lacking compared to Ivan, more than he had in a long time.
Without thinking, he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. But the wild look was part of his appeal, Hyuna had always said. Made him stand out.
“Are you going to keep staring at me or actually introduce yourself?”
Till startled, yanking his hand out of his hair hard enough he winced a little. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize, but then he saw Ivan was smiling. Barely, really, more like a smirk.
Clearing his throat, he wiped his hands off on his jeans in what he hoped was a discreet move (he was still sweating like crazy) and stepped forward. “Why should I introduce myself when you apparently already know my name?”
He froze as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He was so stupid.
This was Ivan – the Ivan – and here he was already messing everything up because he never quite knew when to shut his mouth. He waited, expecting the worst. He wouldn’t have even been surprised if he’d pushed him out of the way and stormed out of the room.
But instead Ivan did the complete opposite. He gave a little laugh, eyes crinkling just a little around the edges. Till felt something warm blossom in the pit of his stomach.
“I haven’t had someone talk to me like that in, well, ages.” His eyes were still sparkling when he finally stopped laughing. He extended a hand. Till moved quickly before he could think too hard and just make himself more nervous. Ivan’s hand was warm, smooth.
Till knew his own hands weren’t nearly as smooth, from playing guitar. It was just a hobby he had picked up on the side, nothing more, but his hands still suffered for it.
“You must play an instrument,” Ivan said, startling him. For a moment, he wondered if he’d accidentally spoken his thoughts but then Ivan tilted his head. “Guitar?”
Till swallowed around the lump in his throat; Ivan’s thumb gently moved over his knuckles, once, fleeting, before he was pulling away. Maybe he’d imagined it. “Yeah. Um. Just a hobby.”
“I would love to hear you play, if ever given the chance,” Ivan said. Normally, Till would’ve brushed it off as empty words but there was something oddly sincere about the way he said it.
He dropped his gaze, focusing on the collar of Ivan’s shirt. Anything to make sure he didn’t keep staring at his face. “Yeah. Sure.”
Before he – or Ivan – could say anything else, the door was opened without even a knock. Till spun around as Luka entered the room followed by the rest of the staff and finally Mizi alongside a woman he didn’t quite recognize. He wondered if she was part of staff and somehow he had just never noticed her until now.
That question was answered quickly when she went to Ivan’s side. “You’ve totally got this,” she said, hushed but just loud enough Till could hear.
He wondered if that was true. Didn’t want to get his hopes up.
“Okay, since I’ve given you both more than enough time to get acquainted.” Luka nodded at the scripts on the table. “Go ahead.”
Till forced his hand to not shake as he reached out and grabbed his version of the script; the part they’d be rehearsing, today, had been highlighted. It wasn’t too long. He just had to get through the scene without any mistakes.
He skimmed through it quickly, saw Ivan doing the same, even though they had both already read the script. Ivan, possibly only one or twice, but Till had read it nearing a dozen times.
So how did he manage to forget what happened at the end?
They didn’t kiss, not in this scene, but they almost did and that was enough to have Till suddenly rethinking everything. You’re a professional, he reminded himself, and tried to believe it.
He had certainly kissed plenty of people on set by now but admittedly he had never found any of them quite as alluring as Ivan.
Still, this was a chance to prove himself. He wouldn’t let that get in the way of doing his job properly.
“We don’t have all day,” Luka said, as impatient as ever.
Till resisted the urge to glare at him and simply set the script aside; it wasn’t frowned upon to read from the script during chemistry reads, of course, but he had the entire thing memorized already.
Ivan probably hadn’t been able to memorize it in such a short time but Till was surprised to find he set his script aside as well. He was always called an acting prodigy by media, the best the industry had seen in ages, and it seemed like it went beyond just a good performance on screen.
They both stepped closer to each other, waited until Luka gave the final nod.
All jokes aside, Till really was a professional. He felt like he was a different person when he got into character. Immediately he felt his eyes start to sting, his bottom lip tremble a little.
“You lied to me,” he said, voice thick with emotion.
It was surprisingly easy to look Ivan in the eyes all of a sudden. Ivan stared back just as intensely, reached for his hands. He held them, loose and gentle. “You know I didn’t have a choice.”
Till jerked his hands away. “But you promised me.”
“I know, I know,” Ivan’s eyes were glossy too, brimming with so much emotion Till had to remind himself they were acting. He couldn’t remember ever having to do that before. “But I need you to trust me, okay?”
Till swallowed. “I – I don’t know if I can,” he whispered, just loud enough for Luka and the others to hear.
Ivan frowned, looking thoughtful for a moment. “How can I convince you to trust me?”
He opened his mouth, closed it, cursed himself because – he’d fucking forgotten the line. How could he have forgotten the line? He dared a quick glance at Luka, who was watching him with slightly narrowed eyes.
He was so screwed. Ivan was definitely getting the role, no doubt, but not before Till was probably kicked off the project.
And now he was so nervous he was shaking a little, hopefully not enough to be noticed by Luka and the others but there was no hiding it from Ivan, as close as he was.
So much for being a professional.
Maybe it would be better just to get it over with and admit his mistake, take whatever consequences would follow, even if that meant being kicked off the project. Even if it meant not getting to work with Ivan.
But as soon as he opened his mouth, Ivan surged forward and kissed him.
For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?”
The only thing that followed was silence, but Till knew the answer; he might’ve forgotten his line but he still remembered how the scene ended – Ivan’s hand on his neck, thumb stroking his jaw as he begged him for one more chance.
Not a kiss, but something close. The actual kiss came far later in the script.
Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.
It was like something out of his wildest dreams but also not at all.
After a few seconds, he dared to open his eyes, surprised to find Ivan already staring back at him.
Suddenly Ivan was pulling away, turning toward Luka. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away.”
Till licked his lips, flushed when he realized what he’d done and quickly pursed his lips into a thin line to ignore the urge to do it again.
“Well,” Luka looked torn between amusement and annoyance, “I supposed you were going to kiss him eventually one way or another.”
Till blinked as the words settled. “Wait, you mean – ”
“Don’t get too excited,” he interrupted, already standing, “but you should be optimistic.” Weirdly, he said it while staring at Till like he was the one auditioning for the spot, not Ivan. There was no way he knew, right? Or maybe he was letting him know he was going to be kind enough to ignore his obvious mistake. “We’ll call you once we’ve discussed it and made a final decision.”
Till watched as Luka left with the staff, not even giving them a glance back. For once, he was thankful to be ignored.
Once they were gone, Mizi rushed to his side. “Are you okay?” she asked, side-eyeing Ivan skeptically.
He appreciated her concern, as always, but he was fine. If kissing strangers was an issue for him, he probably would’ve picked a different career path, but even those kisses were usually planned for and this wasn’t, which was jarring, yes, but he wasn’t upset.
Ivan’s manager was at his side, too, looking at him with disapproval. Till wondered how often he did unexpected stuff like that.
Finally he brushed her off and stepped forward, closer to Till. Mizi pursed her lips but didn’t intervene; she really was the perfect manager for him.
“I apologize,” he said, giving a slight bow. “I shouldn’t have done that without warning, but…”
He trailed off, and Mizi finally spoke, “But?”
But Till already knew the answer. Ivan smiled, but it wasn’t mean. “You forgot your line,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Mizi startled, glancing at the script still laid out on the table. “An honest mistake. I didn’t want you getting chided for it, and I thought it’d work as a good enough distraction.”
It certainly had. Till could still feel the press of his lips – plush, but just a little dry.
“You did that for Till?” Mizi asked, sounding skeptical. Till couldn’t blame her; people in the industry rarely looked out for each other like that, nevertheless strangers.
Ivan nodded, his smile growing just a little wider. “I guess you could say I’m intrigued.” He extended a hand and Till took a second too long to move, realizing his intent. Ivan squeezed his hand. “I look forward to working together.”
Till envied his confidence. Technically, nothing was confirmed yet. But even he knew it wasn’t up in the air. Luka just liked making people sweat.
“Me too,” he said.
-
“Did you see Ivan’s manager?” Mizi asked the next day. Shooting wouldn’t start for a few weeks but she came over often just to hang out.
Till blinked. “The girl with the, uh, blue hair and piercing stare?”
He didn’t miss the way her mouth twitched, forming a smile for only a second. “Yeah.”
Till had recognized that smile, however brief. He looked back to the television. “You should go for it.”
“Wh – what?” she stammered, nearly spilling their bowl of popcorn. “I don’t – I mean – ”
He grinned, side-eyeing her. “I always knew you were into the stoic types.”
“She wasn’t – ” Mizi pursed her lips, looking down. “When you two were doing the read, you know how we all left? Well, we talked some.” Her cheeks were flushed, nearly the same shade of her regularly-dyed hair. “She was nicer than you’d think, looking at her.”
Till wasn’t sure how much he believed her. Everyone was nice to Mizi. She was just that kind of person. You would have to be pure evil to be mean to her. “I trust your judgment,” he said instead, reaching out and squeezing her arm.
She peered at him from under her eyelashes. “But what if it complicates things? Especially when you’ll be working with Ivan for the next few months. And I mean, I don’t even know if she’s, you know.”
“And you’ll never know if you don’t ask,” he replied, making sure to soften his voice. “And don’t worry about me, okay? I can take care of my own shit.”
-
Till was confident. It was something Mizi always said she admired about him; he knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to work for it.
But he was also well-aware of his own shortcomings. He could be testy and impatient, and didn’t always take being corrected or criticized well.
“What if I say something wrong?” he whined, standing in front of the oversized mirror in his living room.
Mizi glanced up from her phone. “Then you – and I know this is an abstract concept to you – but you apologize.”
Till glared at her through the mirror. “And what if he says something wrong?”
“You wait it out,” she replied just as easily. “I mean, he seemed nice enough at the chemistry read.” She set her phone aside, seemingly done with it for now. “He didn’t have to help you like that.”
Till felt his cheeks grow warm just remembering the kiss. In the moment, he had been able to control himself, too caught up in making sure he didn’t ruin the scene more or – worse – lose his role. But now, looking back, he couldn’t quite believe he had kissed Ivan.
It was always going to happen, Luka was right, if Ivan got the role but somehow that didn’t make it any easier to believe.
And he had gotten the role; Luka had called him this morning with the good news. After that, Till had thought about texting Ivan, congratulating him. They had exchanged numbers for a reason.
But he couldn’t quite work up the guts to do it.
He must’ve waited too long because eventually a text had popped up on his own phone from ‘Ivan’. (He had debated adding a heart before realizing that was asking for trouble.)
“Since we’ll officially be working together,” it had read, “I would like to get to know each other better.”
Till had mulled over how to respond for so long he had eventually texted Mizi instead for help. With her help, he had responded back with a simple, “How about brunch?”
He still wasn’t sure people actually used the word brunch in real life but he had trusted Mizi more than himself in the moment, and either way it worked out because Ivan said yes.
He said yes with a little :) to be precise and Till felt like his heart was going to burst. He was playing a dangerous game, he knew, letting himself feed into this when they were coworkers, nothing else, but he couldn’t help it.
And Mizi was enabling it.
After their conversation, Mizi had invited herself over to help him get ready. Fair enough, because without Hyuna he wasn’t really too sure how to do much more than throw on a shirt and jeans.
She had helped him with some basic makeup – a bit of eyeliner and gloss – then picked out his outfit for him, which he still wasn’t sure about.
It was brunch, after all, but she had picked out a long-sleeved silky blue shirt and black jeans. He felt a little overdressed but she had assured him it was perfect.
“I should get going,” she announced, tearing him out of his downward spiral. She jumped off the couch and walked over, peering in the mirror alongside him. “You look hot.”
Till snorted, shaking his head. “I used to dream of you hearing you say that.”
And it was true; when they had first met, when his career was still new and fresh, he had immediately developed a crush on her. Now, he was glad they were just friends. Now, they were so close it didn’t even feel weird joking about it.
Mizi winked playfully and patted him on the back. “Just be yourself.”
That was what he was afraid of.
-
Mizi left after that, which was expected – it was only an hour until Ivan was set to arrive – but being alone didn’t help his nerves at all.
Nearly exactly on the dot, Till’s doorbell rang. Old-fashioned, really, because most people just texted when they arrived.
Smoothing his shirt down in the mirror, and reminding himself this wasn’t a date, he walked over and opened the door.
Thankfully, he hadn’t been the only one to get dressed up. Ivan wore a long-sleeved black shirt, tucked neatly into dark blue slacks. His hair was swept back out of his face; if he wore makeup, it wasn’t obvious enough for Till to be able to tell but either way he was as stunning as ever.
Till realized – belatedly – that he had just been staring at him without saying anything for at least a minute. Flushing, he stepped out of the way, a silent invitation inside.
Just as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, Ivan was saying, “I almost feel bad for what I’m about to suggest,” he smiled, small, “considering how good you look.”
Till blinked once, twice. “Oh. Um. What?”
Stupid. He was so stupid.
“You obviously got dressed up intending to go out,” Ivan continued, still smiling with a hint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, “which I know we discussed, but…”
Till swallowed; why was his mouth so dry? “But?”
“But,” Ivan tilted his head a little. “I can’t speak for you, of course, but getting recognized in public is daunting.”
Till was suddenly reminded of their differences. He’d been recognized a few times, sure, but undoubtedly nothing compared to what Ivan went through. His face was plastered everywhere – billboards, magazines, commercials – so no wonder he was tired of getting recognized everywhere he went.
Even if you didn’t know Ivan, you’d at least seen his face. And most people can’t control themselves around a celebrity, regardless of personal interest.
“I understand,” he said finally, not sure what else to say.
Ivan smiled a bit wider. “So do you mind?” Till wasn’t quite sure what he was asking, but thankfully he continued before he could make a fool of himself. “I know it must also be daunting to have a stranger in your apartment.”
The dots connected quickly, suddenly. Till didn’t even have to think about the answer. “I don’t mind at all,” he said, but then, “I just – well.” Warm in the face, he gestured weakly at his kitchen. “I don’t have much.”
“No problem,” Ivan was already pulling out his phone. “We can just order something.”
-
That was how they ended up on his couch, shoes thrown off, eating a pizza. It was oddly comfortable, even though Till kept catching himself staring at Ivan’s mouth.
It was hard not to remember the kiss. It had just been part of the script, albeit a little early. Not to mention, Ivan had only done it to save him from making a complete fool of himself.
But it was still hard to forget, or brush off. After all, Till had admired him (and possibly had a crush on him) for so long. He never imagined just meeting him, nevertheless anything more.
“Do I have something on my face?”
Ivan’s seemingly innocent question was what finally drew him back to reality.
Till startled, nearly dropping his slice of pizza. It was starting to get cold anyway. “Um. No. I mean. Your face is fine.”
He winced at his own words, cursing himself internally.
Ivan smiled – no, that was a smirk. “I’m glad to hear you think my face is ‘fine’.”
“Well, I mean, I didn’t – your face is more than fine,” Till stammered, even as he cursed himself more with each word.
For a moment, there was silence and Till was sure he had finally properly screwed things up. But then Ivan threw his head back and started laughing hard enough he shook the couch a little.
Once he quieted down, he gazed at Till with a crooked smile. “You’re funny.”
Till flushed. “I’m sure you hear that kind of stuff all the time.”
“Mmm,” Ivan tilted his head back and forth. “Yeah, but people are usually a lot more suave about it.” When Till frowned, he nudged him with his foot. “That’s a good thing. I prefer when people don’t try so hard.”
Till couldn’t fight back a smile even if he tried. “Oh.”
“I was gonna suggest we do a readthrough of the script tonight but,” Ivan checked his phone. “It’s getting late.”
Till tried to hide his disappointment. He was surprised how much he’d enjoyed Ivan’s company. He had hoped he would, of course, but he was never sure how these things would go. Like mentioned, he didn’t always get along with people easily. And Ivan was, well, Ivan.
Famous, beautiful, rich. Till expected him to be a lot more conceited or snobby. Most of the famous people Till met were like that, after all, but not Ivan. He was sweet. A little odd, but wasn’t everyone?
“Are you free next Friday?” Ivan asked.
Till didn’t even have to think. If he had plans, he would just have to reschedule.
“Um, probably,” he said, aiming for casual and probably failing.
Ivan smiled again; he had one fang that Till was starting to think was unfairly adorable. “We can meet, then, go over the script.”
“Sounds good.” Amazing, actually, but he didn’t dare seem too eager, even though he was starting to think Ivan wouldn’t mind.
-
“Soooo,” Mizi slung herself over the couch ungracefully. “How did it go, hmm?”
Till snorted, pushing her out of the way to sit down. “I – ” His smile fell. Mizi was quick to adapt, sitting up properly. She had always been good at adapting to his moods. “I think I might be screwed.”
“What?” she leaned in closer. “Did he do something?”
Till appreciated her concern, as unfounded as it was. “No, he was… he was great, actually. We ate pizza and talked about a lot of nothing. He mentioned coming over next Friday so we can actually go over the script.”
“So… what’s wrong?” She was frowning, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He couldn’t blame her.
He sighed, peering down at his hands folded together in his lap. “I think I could really like him, Mizi. Like… a lot.”
The thing was, he had never really liked someone before. He had certainly never dated. Beyond his short-lived crush on Mizi, passionate as it was, he had never even gotten the urge to date, or even do what a lot of other actors did and sleep around casually.
And now he was worried if he spent too much time with Ivan, that might change. Turn into something more than a crush from afar.
For a long moment, they were both silent. Finally, Mizi reached for his hands, cradling them gently.
“You are a really good person, Till.”
He rolled his eyes, an automatic response. She squeezed his hands harder.
“You always undervalue yourself, Till,” she continued, and he couldn’t look away from her determined gaze. “You act overconfident to make up for it, but I know you too well for that. You don’t know think someone like Ivan could ever like you but you fail to realize he’d be lucky to have you.”
He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I – ”
But she apparently wasn’t finished, “I met with Sua.” She paused for a moment, like she was realizing something. “Ivan’s manager,” she clarified. “We really hit it off. She cares for Ivan like I care for you, I think.”
He just nodded, unsure where this was going but happy for her either way.
“I probably shouldn’t say this, it isn’t my place but,” she smiled, small, “I will, because I think you need to hear it. Apparently Ivan can’t stop talking about you. Sua said he’s never been so interested in another person. She even asked me about you.” Her smile widened a bit. “I only said good things, of course. I knew she was just worried.”
Till couldn’t believe it. He had also never known Mizi to lie, especially about serious stuff.
“But I – I can’t,” he stammered, looking down at their hands. “Even if he was interested,” which was so hard to believe he almost felt like he was dreaming, “I can’t risk it.”
Mizi ducked her head, forcing her eyes to meet again. “Why not?”
“You know why,” he said, and he wasn’t even embarrassed that he sounded like a petulant child. “I would be risking the movie. If we had a fight or – or broke up, I don’t know if I could pretend like nothing happened.”
He was making a lot of assumptions anyway; assuming Ivan was interested in something more, when maybe he just wanted something casual or temporary. But still the details didn’t matter. Either way, Till knew he couldn’t go back to acting like only coworkers.
“Till, I know you care about this movie,” she smiled again but there was something sad about the curve of her mouth, pitying. “But sometimes life is about taking chances. You can’t just depend on your career for happiness forever.”
He wanted to argue because he couldn’t find the words. Mizi squeezed his hands even tighter. It was almost painful but also oddly comforting.
“What if you got a role a few years from now – your dream role – but then suddenly you were kicked off the cast.” Till waited, knowing she wasn’t finished. “You would be devastated, obviously, but you would be even more devastated if you had to go home to an empty apartment.”
Till licked his lips; when did they get so dry?
“Plenty of people are satisfied never having a partner. Dating.”
Mizi rolled her eyes. “I know that but I also know you’re not one of them, Till.”
She really did know him too well. “But we’re both famous, Mizi, and he’s – he’s a household name. If we dated, we couldn’t keep it from the public for too long. Someone would find out.”
“And that is something worth discussing,” she finally released his hands, choosing instead to squeeze his wrist. “With him.”
Till suddenly felt like crying. He didn’t, but his eyes burned. “What if we’re wrong? Even Sua?”
“Then you can come to me and cry it out.” She smiled, warm and sincere.
It was a decent enough backup plan. Without warning, he lunged forward and hugged her. “Have I said recently how you are the best manager in the world?”
“You don’t have to tell me, I already know.”
-
Till decided not to rush it, even if Mizi suggested texting Ivan and setting a closer date to see each other again.
When Friday finally rolled around, he felt like he was going to be sick.
He made a point to not dress up, just a pair of his usual jeans and a black t-shirt. If this was going to happen, he wanted to be sure it was because Ivan really liked him. Not because he thought he looked good enough to settle for.
A few minutes after 12, his doorbell rang.
Brushing by the mirror without looking, he opened the door. Ivan had apparently had the same thought; he looked as gorgeous as last time, obviously, but he was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans too with a thin jacket. His hair also wasn’t slicked back, hanging loosely around his face.
He also had a bag, probably to carry around the script and whatever else he might need.
Like last time, they ordered food and ended up on the couch. This time, however, they had the scripts. Till noticed a ton of highlighted parts in Ivan’s copy; maybe he shouldn’t have assumed he just had a natural gift for memorizing things. He had obviously worked just as hard.
For a while, they just rehearsed through the easy parts. Didn’t bother acting any of the parts out just yet.
Most of that stuff – gestures, movements – would be changed before they actually started filming anyway so Till didn’t usually worry about it, just focused on the actual dialogue.
But then they flipped the page and Till saw it: the scene where they kissed. The actual scene.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. When Till finally chanced a look up, he noticed Ivan was already looking at him.
“Do you usually practice these parts?” Ivan asked.
Till tried to decipher his voice, his expression, but it was all perfectly neutral.
“Sometimes,” he answered, because it was true. “Makes it less awkward later.” But other actors preferred keeping any kissing strictly in front of the camera. Till didn’t really have a preference.
Ivan hummed thoughtfully. “Well then, I’m up for it, if you are.”
He could almost hear Mizi in his head, telling him he shouldn’t do this. He should confess, first, otherwise it wasn’t fair. To him or Ivan. And he would confess tonight. He had already made that decision but…
Couldn’t he be just a little selfish first?
“Sure.” Understatement of the century.
Collecting their scripts, Till set them aside on the coffee table and was relieved when Ivan made the first move to scoot closer. He still couldn’t quite read his face, perfectly blank.
“Let me know if you want to stop,” Ivan said, a hand already reaching out and settling on Till’s neck, warm and heavy.
Till was pretty sure Ivan could’ve done anything to him in that moment and he still wouldn’t have asked him to stop, but he appreciated the sentiment.
Not trusting his voice, Till just gave a tiny nod and that seemed to be enough for Ivan. He leaned forward, slowly, like he was giving Till the chance to stop him if he wanted to.
He didn’t.
Finally their lips touched, just a gentle press. Ivan’s lips were even softer than he remembered, warmer too. The script didn’t detail the kiss; that would be decided later with help from the director but – Till supposed Ivan was preparing for everything as he tilted his head, pressing their lips together with a bit more fervor.
Hardly complaining, Till kissed back, scooting a little closer. That should’ve been it. Given the scene, it was doubtful the kiss was going to be anything more than this.
But Ivan didn’t pull away, and Till wasn’t going to be the first to end it.
Opening his eyes, he finally wasn’t surprised for once to find Ivan already staring back at him. What was difference, however, was the look in his eyes. Intense, but somehow warm.
Till felt a shiver down his spine and decided this was it. Words had never been his specialty. Moving quickly, he shifted up onto his knees and swung a leg over Ivan to settle on the other side, kissing him the entire time.
Only once he was settled, straddling him, did he finally pull back. “Is this okay?”
Ivan’s eyes were always dark, nearly black, but this was something else. “Depends,” he replied, low but steady. He lifted his hands, placing them on Till’s hips. “Is this okay?”
Instead of replying with words, Till just leaned in and kissed him again. This kiss was immediately different from the first, filthy and almost aggressive. Ivan bit at his bottom lip, just the edge of too hard, and Till let out a sound in the back of his throat that was outright embarrassing.
He only pulled back for air when he absolutely had to, panting a little to catch his breath. Ivan’s eyes were half-lidded; he somehow looked the best he ever had. Till swallowed. This was his chance.
“I have something to confess,” he forced the words out before he could reconsider.
Ivan blinked, once, almost immediately looking more alert. “What?” His hands shifted on his hips but didn’t pull away. “Do you want to stop?”
“Quite literally the opposite,” he replied, feeling nearly delirious. This was it. “I know this is – probably not what you want at all, and I’m probably reading too much into everything, and – and I know this could get in the way of the movie, I’m not an idiot, but I think I would really regret not saying it.”
Ivan squeezed his hips, then, and it was enough to make him feel a little more grounded. “You’re kind of scaring me here, Till.”
He stared at Ivan for a moment, appreciating every detail of his face, before he took a deep breath, “I think I could end up liking you.” He paused, letting the words settle properly in the silence between them. “A lot.”
Till wasn’t sure what he was expecting. The silence lingered so long he was starting to feel an ache in his chest.
Without a word, he went to move off Ivan’s lap but his hands tightened around his waist. “Stay,” he said, the softest Till had ever heard his voice.
“You don’t have to try and – and placate me,” Till stammered, but he didn’t try to move again. “I’m not gonna be mad at you for not feeling the same way.”
Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. Till watched his face flicker through about ten different emotions before suddenly he was kissing him again, hard and messy. Till gasped into his mouth, surprised – confused – but hardly disappointed.
He curled his fingers in Ivan’s hair, eyelashes fluttering. He could do this forever. He also knew he needed a real answer.
He deserved that.
Mustering all his courage, he pulled back. Ivan stared up at him with a newfound intensity. He forced himself to speak around the lump in his throat, “I’ve admired you for a long time. I know that might not be – appealing, in this context. But I don’t think that has anything to do with what I’ve felt since we met.”
Ivan continued to stare at him. Till gulped.
“You’re just not what I expected,” he paused. “In a really good way, and I’ve never done this before. Not just with another actor. Or, uh, coworker. I mean, like at all.”
The corner of Ivan’s mouth started to quirk up. “You’re cute.”
“Oh.” Till flushed. “Thank you?”
Ivan let out a soft laugh; gently, he moved Till off him. Under different circumstances, he might’ve overthought what that meant but Ivan was still smiling, warm and small.
“Are you asking me out, Till?” he asked, not even trying to hide the mirth in his eyes.
He supposed he was, in a way. “I mean, that’s – that’s assuming a lot. I just, I wanted to let you know. I didn’t – ” He hadn’t expected anything, he meant to say, but he suddenly stopped, finally connecting the dots. “Wait. Does that mean – ?”
Ivan leaned against the back of the couch, watching him with that same sparkle in his eyes. “I liked you the second I set my eyes on you,” the confession felt like igniting fire in Till’s very core. “I wasn’t sure why, at first. I’d never felt that way before, and we barely knew each other.”
Till didn’t dare speak; he didn’t trust his voice anyway.
“But you’re… different,” Ivan hummed. “I can’t quite put my finger on it.” He smiled, that fang poking out again. Till wanted to feel it against his lip again. “And frankly, I don’t really care to.”
He paused, reaching out. Till didn’t even think twice, moving as if commanded by something out of his control. Ivan held his hand gently, thumb pressing into his knuckles, not hard but comforting. Grounding, like he somehow knew Till felt a little untethered.
“But I’m assuming you know by now I can’t promise you this won’t get out. Even when you’re surrounded by people you think you can trust, it’s not quite true in our line of work, is it?”
Till had already went over this in his head. “I don’t mind. I think it’s worth the risk.”
“We should at least keep it between us,” Ivan said softly, and Till wasn’t sure yet what he was going to say next. If he wanted to keep this hidden because he was ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with him. But then – “Just until the movie is done shooting. I don’t want them to project or assume anything just because we’re together.”
Till nodded. “I agree,” he said, meaning it. It was the smart move. “And if anything happens, if this doesn’t work, I need us to be on the same page.”
“I hope we won’t have to worry about that,” Ivan replied, “but the fact you even want to discuss it...” He smiled again, almost approvingly. Till didn’t want to admit how much that did for his confidence. “I promise you won’t have anything to worry about from my end. I could even give you something to use against me, if it would give you peace of mind.”
Till let out a sudden laugh, surprised by the odd offer. But just as Ivan kept saying he was different, he was starting to think Ivan’s oddness was what had really captivated him. “I’ll just have to take your word for it,” he said, still smiling.
-
They never ended up having to worry about. Months later, when the movie was wrapping up, they all celebrated by having dinner at Ivan’s house. The place had always been beautiful, from the very first time Till had seen it, but now it felt more like a proper home.
Pictures lined the walls that used to be empty, mostly of the two of them, but some were just of Till. He complained about them, sometimes, embarrassed but secretly he liked it.
Some were of all of them – Ivan, arms wrapped around Till. Mizi and Sua, heads tilted together.
Till was pretty sure he had died and gone to heaven. Or maybe he just should’ve been more hopeful when he was younger because sometimes he still struggled to believe this was real.
Sitting at the table, Ivan on his left and Mizi on his right, he wondered what he had done to end up lucky enough to have met both of them.
Or maybe Ivan was right, as he always liked to say: “You deserve good things, Till.”
Till still remembered the first time he’d said it when they were laid out in his bed. He had kissed Till’s forehead and he had suddenly felt the urge to cry, eyes burning.
Maybe, just maybe, he was finally starting to believe it.
“Can you believe they still haven’t figured it out?” Mizi was saying, giggling around the rim of her wine glass. “’How is their chemistry so good?’” she said, repeating what the director had said earlier.
Till hadn’t really heard him. He’d been too busy kissing Ivan with as much fervor as he kissed him every night. He supposed there were benefits, actually, to dating your costar.
Sua smiled at her side. “You can’t blame him. I’m surprised they were actually able to keep it hidden until the end of filming.”
Till chanced a glance at Ivan, who was already staring back at him. He smiled. Ivan smiled back, giving a nod.
“About that, actually,” Till cleared his throat. “We are planning to disclose that we’re dating. Not how long, obviously, but… we thought it might make things easier, especially since Ivan can’t stop complaining about wanting to take me places and not being able to.”
Mizi smiled, shifting to take Sua’s hand where it was resting atop the table.
“We’re happy for you.” She glanced at Ivan. “Both of you.”
-
At the end of the night, Till was surprised to have Mizi pull him away from Ivan’s side. She walked them to the edge of the porch, grasping his hands tightly in her own.
“I know this is going to be cheesy and you’ll hate every second of it,” she said, “but I just really need to say it.”
Till tilted his head with a confused smile.
“I used to worry about you.” She squeezed his hands tighter. “You always acted like you were fine on your own but I just – I could tell you had so much love to give and for a while I almost felt guilty, turning you down.”
Till tensed, already opening his mouth, but she continued, “I know you never wanted me to, and you never did anything to make me feel that. I promise. It was just – normal concern for a friend, okay?”
She gently shook their hands, smiling now. “But now I see you with Ivan and… Till, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”
He couldn’t fight the smile off his own face, small and sincere. He stared down at their hands. “I – ” He paused, swallowed around the lump in his throat. He hadn’t even said this to Ivan, yet, but somehow it felt right. Saying it, now, to Mizi first. “I think I love him.”
For a long moment, there was silence. When he finally glanced up, Mizi wasn’t looking at him. She was staring over his shoulder, eyes a little wide, and –
He dropped her hands and spun around. Ivan stood there, frozen with his hand in the air like he had just been about to tap his shoulder. Mizi squeaked and scooted past them, rushing to join Sua at the other end of the porch.
“I was going to ask if you were cold,” Ivan said, dropping his hand. It was chilly out, middle of autumn now, and Ivan knew he ran cold. The simple but sweet gesture made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest.
Till just nodded, not trusting his voice. Ivan shucked off his jacket and moved to wrap it around his frame.
“I didn’t want you hear that,” Till said finally, clutching the jacket to keep it from falling. “I was going to tell you soon. Just needed the right moment. I know it’s probably too soon or I don’t know, I don’t really know how to gauge these things – ”
Ivan moved, smooth but fast, wrapping an arm around his waist and drawing him in close enough to tip their foreheads together. If he remembered they still had company present, he didn’t seem phased by it. “I don’t believe in there being a right time for anything,” he breathed softly. “I love you, Till.”
He smiled so big he knew his cheeks were going to hurt later. He didn’t care. Happiness was worth it. “Good,” he said before cupping both sides of Ivan’s face and kissing him.
It reminded him a lot of their first kiss but this time the roles were reversed. Ivan seemed surprised for just a second before he smiled against his lips, tugging him even closer.
When they separated, Till was breathless. He wasn’t complaining.
“I hate to say this,” he let out a shaky laugh, still catching his breath, “but I think we need to send a thank you card or something.”
Ivan raised an eyebrow, searching his face. “To who?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he replied before moving in to kiss him again. He heard Sua’s groan from across the porch. Ivan laughed against his mouth.
-
A week before they left for their first vacation, just a couple days after the news of them dating had hit the media, Till went to the store and picked out a card. It was the vaguest card he could find in the store, just a simple “thank you” with a smiley face on the front. He signed it just as simply – Ivan and Till – and left it like that. He trusted Luka to figure it out.
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Surprise Bag 2024 Story (Prologue)
The April Fool's story from 2024. This is only the prologue, as the continuations are sold as story sales that I will not be purchasing. I do still think it is very funny, though.
The premise is a bodyswap, Ellis <> Jude and Elbert <> Alfons
Ever since I became a Fairytale Keeper, I like to think that my tolerance for the extraordinary has increased.
However, this latest happening in Crown far surpassed anything I had ever experienced.
"Jude": Good morning, Miss Kate. I'll make you happy today too.
Kate: ...Jude, did you... hit your head on something?
"Jude": Hm? Nope, I'm perfectly fine. Haven't hit my head on anything.
Kate: What happened to your usual terrible attitude?! Did you catch a cold? Are you injured? We have to go to the hospital now--
"Ellis": Tch, the hell is this?
"Jude": Ah, Jude.
"Jude": Huh? Jude, why are you me?
"Ellis": I should be the one asking. Why the hell are you me?
Kate: Wha? Huh??
"Elbert": Ahha! Something terribly amusing seems to have happened, hasn't it?
Kate: Alf- Eh, Lord Elbert?
Kate: Wait, so then is that 'Alfons' standing behind you...?
"Alfons": ...When I looked in the mirror, I became Al.
"Elbert": Being able to look at oneself from the point of view of an outsider truly is fascinating.
"Elbert": Oh yes, El. Do speak more energetically. It's unsettling to hear myeslf sound so glum.
"Alfons": ...More energetically? ...I'll, try...
"Alfons": ........Ahha.
"Elbert": I suppose that's my mistake for asking you to be more energetic.
Kate: Wait, just hold on a second. So what's happened is...
Kate: ...Jude and Ellis, and then Lord Elbert and Alfons have swapped bodies!?
Kate: What kind of ridiculous situation is this...!?
"Ellis": It's that goddamn doctor bastard's fault. I'll kill him.
---
Gathering the remainder of Crown, we questioned Roger about the circumstances. He let out an unrestrained laugh.
Roger: My bad, my bad. Who'd ever think that the results would pay off this quickly? Aren't I a genius?
Victor: Now's not the time, Roger! What did you do to cause this adorable- excuse me, very troubling situation?
Liam: Victor, you're not hiding your true feelings very well. Your words and face don't match at all.
Roger: I had the thought of swapping a cursed person with a normal person. That could lead to the curse transferring, couldn't it? So I was doing some research.
William: Your unquenchable thirst for knowledge is admirable indeed. But if that were the case, shouldn't you be experimenting with a cursed person and a normal human?
Roger: It'd be pretty dangerous for us if something went wrong while I was experimenting on a normal person, wouldn't it? I thought I'd test things out on these guys first.
Harrison: Just what do you think we are? We die just as easy as normal people, you know.
"Elbert": Let's toss that musclehead four-eyes into the Thames.
"Ellis": Yeah. Fix some stone weights to him and it'll be over quick.
Kate: Stop, stop! Don't say things like that wearing Elbert and Ellis's faces!
"Jude": But that's pretty amazing, Roger. I never thought that medicine like this could exist.
Liam: ...Jude being all soft is- nope, that's just weird!
Roger: Don't worry so much. Once I've collected enough data from you lot, I'll whip up an antidote.
Roger: ........Once I've got an antidote, I can start testing on the others.
Harrison: ...You just said something awful, didn't you?
Roger: Don't know what you're talking about.
"Elbert": You're acting like you're in any position to bargain about turning us back? Pardon my French, but go die.
Harrison: Yikes... Uh, Liam? Hey, Liam, hey. Did he fall asleep?
"Jude": Sorry, I touched his head. I was curious about whether I could use Jude's power or not.
Roger: Huh, so the ability stays with the body. I really am a genius after all, aren't I?
(This isn't helping anymore...!)
Kate: A-anyway! Please make that antidote as soon as possible, Roger!
Kate: ...Geez. What are we going to do if Her Majesty hears about this?
Roger: Well, I might end up getting fired...
Roger: ...So it's up to you to watch over the lot of them to make sure nobody else finds out about this, little lady.
Kate: Huh? ...Roger? Wait!
"Ellis": Tch... Fuck it. Let him get kicked out.
"Jude": Ah, Jude, my body isn't used to--
"Ellis": *cough, cough*... Ellis. First thing we're doing is to start training so you can at least handle one cigar.
"Elbert": Hmm... with a face like this, I could get away with doing pretty much anything, don't you think?
"Alfons": ...Kate, is this spoon beautiful?
Kate: M-my poor sanity...!
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Something borrowed, Something blue.
Part two to Something old, something new.
You and John Price have a history, one you miss terribly, will he be able to convince you to leave your groom at the altar for him?
TW. Slight suggestive smut, didn't realise it will be as long as it was, so there will be a part three!!! MDNI, kissing.
You feel the energy crackle around the room as John leant in, you could smell faint cigar smoke and a peppermint he must have eaten on the way in.
Your eyes meet his deep blue ones, and you step back cautiously. This was the secret answer to your prayers, but you couldn't believe this was real.
"John, I.. we can't." You press your hands against his chest, your diamond ring from another man glistening in the light, hoping to push him away. Someone had to take the mature approach and stop it, and you had to ignore the fire in your stomach as you touch him, but all he does is encircle his large hands around yours and pull you back in to him.
"I'm not running this time, love. I want you, and I want you to be mine. Work be damned." He lets out a breath and presses his lips over yours, silencing any doubts you had about his feelings for you.
He tasted like heaven, and you relaxed in his arms, as he took you into his arms and held you tightly, his tongue exploring yours as you both deepen the kiss. After a few heated moments, John pulls away reluctantly. His gaze bore into your soul, and you saw the need and desire in his eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that you belonged to him, and he belonged to you.
"Should have been wearing this dress for me." He says gruffly, gesturing to your white wedding gown. "You look like an angel." He adds. He leads in for another kiss, but you are interrupted by a knock at your door.
"You nearly ready sweetheart? Gotta take you to the church." Your father calls through the door.
Your shocked face looks at John's calm features.
"It's my dad, he will kill you if he found out you were here." You hiss, looking for a hiding place for him.
"C-coming dad!" You yell, unsure if you should even ready to face him. You push John out of the view of the door, and open it, your face flushed and your flowers long forgotten.
"You look beautiful, dove." Your father says, holding an arm out for you. You reluctantly take it, leaning on his frame for support. He looks at you, and you are reminded of how much your father knows about you.
"Now, as your dad, I have to ask... is it too late for you to change your mind.. only I thought I saw John's car, and I know-" he pauses, and looks at his daughters face, all doe eyed and pink cheeks.
"You've seen him already, haven't you." He asks quietly.
You nod, your heart falling to the floor. What were you thinking? Kissing John an hour before you were going to marry your fiance? Shame filled your features as you can't look your dad in the eye. You were a good person, but deep down, you knew you couldn't marry a man you didn't love.
"You still have feelings for John?" Your father asks softly, holding you a little closer, as if he doesn't want anyone hearing your conversation.
"Y-yes. Yes I do." You admit, and you open the door wider to reveal John standing in your hotel room. You unhook your arm from your father's, and stand next to John.
Your dad throws you his car keys.
"Borrow my car. Drive her someplace safe for the night, and I'll take your car to my house. Thankfully you wanted a small wedding, so there's only a few people that need to know today." Your dad turns to John.
"Keep her heart safe. She deserves a good man. I trust that's you. I always liked you, don't fuck this up." He warns in a mock serious manner.
John shakes your father's hand, and pulls you in close.
"I promise, Sir. Thank you."
Pocketing the car keys, John urges you to pack a bag, and hand in hand, you run to the car.
John opens the door for you, as you scramble to get in, your dress hindering your body as you squeeze in the seat.
"First thing I plan on doing is taking that dress off, love." John says with a grin.
"How do you fancy playing Mrs. Price for the night? Honeymoon included?" He winks at you as he peals out of the car park.
Wind in your hair, John's hand in yours, you never felt more alive.
"Lead the way, Mr. Price" you laugh as you drive off in search of a honeymoon suite.
"I'm already dressed for the occasion!"
.................................................................
A/N I totally planned on there being smut, but thought this was a cool way to pause it.
@xoxunhinged @dustycrusty09
#call of duty#fanfiction#fanfic#captain price#captain price x reader#captain price mw2#runaway bride
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ASL ‘Merica AU where Ace constantly beats himself up about not being able to live with his brothers during the semester. As rough and tough as he would like to appear, he calls them every day, RELIGIOUSLY, and sometimes multiple times a day (Luffy misses him so he doesn’t mind at all, hell sometimes Luffy calls Ace back to back just to yap. Sabo finds it endearing how much Ace cares, but he will NEVER admit it due to their ongoing older brother rivalry and also his pride). He is such a big softie, and everyone who knows him knows all about his brothers (he carries ALL of their school/his fav pics in his wallet or bag. I mean from THE WEEK that they met. His self-introduction isn’t complete without showing at least one pic of him and his brothers). One night he calls them at like 3am, absolutely out his damn mind WASTED (Luffy and Sabo are laughing their asses off, bc Ace is an EMOTIONAL drunk), just to rant about how much he values their presence and feels like he needs to be there for them more. Sabo calls him back FIRST thing in the morning at like 7am (Sabo hopes he wakes Ace up out of his hangover nap just because Sabo wants to be as annoying as humanly possible in the shortest amount of time), and Ace is SO embarrassed. Not even a hi or hello, the first thing Sabo hears on the line is Ace’s groggy ass voice mumbling:
“I will fucking kill you if you utter a single fucking word.”
And what does Sabo say (the little shit)?
“Aww, just wanted to call my big brother on this fine morning and ask him how it felt to be a complete wet rag. I almost gagged this morning; I mean you really laid it on thick. ‘I miss you guys’ and ‘tell Luffy not to get into too much trouble’ or, maybe even my personal favorite, ‘don’t overwork yourself Sabo and make sure to sleep and eat well. If you die I’ll drag you back down and kill you myself’. You’ve gone soft I fear… and the sobbing?? I mean really you’ve outdone yourself.”
Ace would see red if he wasn’t on the verge of vomiting (and if Sabo’s impression of him wasn’t mildly hilarious). All Sabo hears (over his own laughter ofc) is a slew of curses and pained groans accompanied by heavy footfalls before the line cuts with a final venomous, “Fuck you.”
When Luffy bombards the ASL group chat a few hours later with a chipper voice message detailing how he just casually finished running from the cops, Ace is bout ready to book a flight back. The only thing that stops him is Luffy sending a quick:
“Oh! I love you too Ace, I never got to say it back because you kept crying like a little baby!”
Of course, seconded by Sabo with a little heart reaction and a slew of laughing emojis (Sabo may not say it directly often, but Ace thinks the heart reaction is enough). Despite the raging embarrassment (and the mild murderous intent) he felt at that moment, his lips quirked up into a smile as he read it. He may let the bullying slide just this once (he has gone soft, but maybe he doesn’t mind it).
Tags :) : @porschethemermaid
#another one thank you#i put my adhd on the mic for this one#ASLmerica AU iostyle#one piece#op sabo#sabo#revolutionary sabo#sabo the revolutionary#flame emperor sabo#fire fist ace#ace#op ace#portgas d. ace#luffy#op luffy#mugiwara no luffy#straw hat luffy#op posting#op#saboposting#aceposting#luffyposting#modern AU#found family
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Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn! Astarion x F! Ghost Reader) MDNI 18+
Chapter Six: Four Clerics and a Vampire Spawn Enter a Tomb
Synposis: Astarion is struggling to adjust to not having you around for a little bit, but he amends this quickly. Astarion takes a moment to explore his own wants and needs while you are asleep.
CW: Mentions of torture, gore, m! Masturbation, Astarion being a lovesick mess
I just had this, “oh Astarion and Tav were never together so he has no baseline for sexual touch.”
And my brain went, “HE DOESN’T HAVE A BASELINE FOR SEXUAL TOUCH” and well- here we are. I hope you enjoy! I have put markers for when smut starts and stops for anyone who isn’t into it :)
Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. I did take the picture of ‘Birdie’ and Astarion on my PS5
Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!
Chapter 5: Chapter 7: AO3
Astarion sits and stares at your broken, crumpled form. He had closed your eyes already and he had dug a hole to bury the cat that so graciously let you inhabit it for so long.
He recognizes the country bumpkin arrow as one of Leon’s. How could this happen? Astarion had searched the area high and low for signs of the Bastard and didn’t find a thing- where the fuck did he come from!?
Astarion lets himself cry as he buries the cat.
He can’t feel your presence around him and that terrifies Astarion to no end. He can’t lose you- you are both supposed to be ‘stuck’ with each other forever.
Astarion has hopes, dreams, and stupid fantasies about what kind of life you could live together once they were able to resolve your incorporeal person problems. He really just knows that, as long as he’s around you, life will be fun. Hard sometimes, but nothing that couldn’t be talked about or handled.
You have given him a rather large lesson in communication and the importance of it- after about six months, you had both celebrated Astarion directly telling you that something you said bothered him instead of lashing out.
It had been something stupid- he can’t even remember what it was. He was jealous of some man that you said was very attractive as the two of you peered over the railing of your inn in a small town around Amn.
That all feels so trivial now. You could be with anyone if it meant Astarion could have you back right now. He may kill the person and cry, but that’s beside the point. <
The sun is suddenly embracing him and Astarion feels his body become reinvigorated.
You never gave up on him or finding a cure so that he could walk in the sun. You also expressed having hopes and dreams amongst other what-nots. You wouldn’t give up this easily on him and he sure as hell won’t give up on you.
You have to be out there somewhere. If you aren’t around him that you had to be teleported somewhere else and if that means storming the Heavens- so be it.
Astarion immediately begins flipping through Volo’s book- rubbing the stupid pink tulle tutu material between his fingers.
It’s a stupid thing to keep- he admits it to himself all the time- but it was such a hilarious sight to see and you had said you hope one day he sees how much you mean to him. Astarion will mess with the crappy material whenever he needs the reminder that he has worth and you are busy doing something or sleeping. It’s helped him a significant amount during the night time- the happy memory soothing his soul.
And he desperately needs that reassurance and soothing right now.
Thankfully, Volo’s book wasn’t totally filled with bullshit- the back detailing a City that is not that far from his current location.
It’s about two and a half days away. That’s entirely doable and you are more than likely perfectly safe, exploring the city and, with any luck, you are hoping he’s trying to get back to you.
He can’t get himself to stop- not even for a moment. He finds himself absentmindedly humming various violin pieces you have played for him since you learned you could be an incorporeal person.
He feels border line delirious and he’s pretty fucking hungry if he’s being honest with himself- the creatures he’s finding as he goes aren’t filling enough, but he doesn’t have time to properly hunt.
You would be worried and upset with him for not taking care of himself, but he won’t feel okay again until you are back in his sight and within arms length again.
The trek is horribly boring- he has become so accustomed to even your little snores during travel that the silence is uncomfortable and wrong. Astarion can’t even begin to imagine how his heart would feel if he tried to fall asleep and stay asleep without you near.
The hour he tried to trance out of sheer exhaustion had been full of every nightmare imaginable, but it was a dream of Leon killing you- taking away the only person in the whole world that Astarion would gladly lay his life on the line for.
He should have killed Leon the moment he suggested you become a sacrifice for him to get Victoria back. Astarion would sooner go back in time sacrifice him and the other spawn than hand you over if that’s what it took to keep you safe.
At least in that reality, you could both be together and he would never have to worry about losing you because he wouldn’t have to worry about fucking Leon.
He just knows Leon is involved- he can feel the irritation in his bones grow with each minute he walks.
Astarion races through the forest- being mindful enough to not go barreling through some poor soul just minding it’s own business.
For once, he isn’t looking for a fight. He just wants to get to you and leave- get far away from this Gods awful place and begin your lives together somewhere far, far away.
The second day feels even worse than the first- twenty four hours was far too long and he was growing more worried by the second stint of his journey.
What if Leon finds you before Astarion does?
Astarion is worried that Leon will convince you to sacrifice yourself for his daughter if he gets to you first- something he knows you would do without a second thought.
Astarion finds himself begging the universe that, for once, he is good enough for someone to stay for him- wait for him.
Worth someone being a little bit selfish for once.
What if he isn’t? What kind of life could a transient vampire spawn offer you? Would you willingly remain a ghost if you had the choice or would you pass on?
He attempts to trance again when his thoughts become overwhelming. He continues, however, to refuse sleeping for very long or take the time to properly hunt.
He knows what his needs are and he will take the time later. However, time isn’t a luxury he thinks he can afford right now.
Astarion needs you- he’s doing this for himself more than anything.
His second hour long trance is much better. He dreams of you in his arms, held tightly to his chest- your hair fanning out on a plush pillow while he leaves gentle kisses on your face and you giggle happily. You are here again and everything is okay.
Astarion wakes up crying when he realizes it’s only a trance- a trick of the mind. His lips yearn to know how your skin feels underneath them.
Astarion needs you back by his side yesterday. One day was unacceptable as is, but two? His world feels tilted.
He feels like he can breathe again when he spies the massive Watch Tower in the distance- the black, oddly shaped tower looms over the other buildings and it’s presence demands to be seen.
His feet lead him through the gates of the City of Manifest and he makes a B-line to the Hall of Farewells. There are people everywhere enjoying their loved ones, but no sign of you yet.
Astarion goes to the front of the line- ready to knock whoever over so that he can talk to the teller. Your life very well could be in danger- Astarion hasn’t seen any signs of Leon in the Underdark, but you can never be too careful and that arrow was definitely one of his shitty homemade ones.
“Hey! You can’t just cu-“
Astarion gives the man a menacing, unblinking smile. The man gulps nervously.
“You were saying?”
“Ha, uh I was just saying, go right on ahead! You can cut me anywhere, anytime.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my Boy,” Astarion says with a sneer, “otherwise you may not live to see the light of day.”
A dawning realization of horror crosses the man’s face.
“That’s not what I-“
“NEXT!”
Astarion waves, “that’s my cue- I will find your delicious self later.”
He snickers to himself after he turns around- the man was positively green-, but when he goes to look down next to him to be chastised by you as you begrudgingly laugh- he’s reminded once again of his current twisted reality.
It’s only been 56 hours and he misses you so much- there is a massive hole in his chest with every step he takes and he is praying to every God that you are here.
“Hello! Welcome to the Hall of Farewells,” an elderly woman stands behind the counter, “who are you looking for today, young man?”
If you were here? You would have busted up laughing.
“Young man, my ass!”
He can’t help, but smile slightly to himself as a tear begins to fall from his eye.
“I’m looking for Althaeastra Rothwell? She goes by Birdie,” he gestures to show your height, “about this tall, beautiful, kind, hilarious, plays the violin really well.”
“Well- that is more than enough information for me to help you!” The elderly woman states while beaming, “she must be a very special woman and how lucky of her to have such a wonderful partner.”
“I’m the lucky one, actually,” the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them.
The woman smiles even brighter and Astarion has to try very hard to keep himself from blushing like a smitten school boy.
Good Gods, he thinks, stop being a grieving, emotional mess and focus. You can be weird and dissect your feelings later once you find Birdie.
The woman claps her hand and performs some kind of magic on a book that flips pages with the intensity of a storm. Names are jumping from the pages- sorting through nicknames, letters, dates of death, etc. until a bright DING alerts the elderly woman that the spell is complete.
“Ah yes! Miss Rothwell! She hasn’t been here too long- only a couple days,” the woman muses, “hmm well, it looks like your brother already went off to find her. My guess is that you will find her with him.”
Astarion feels his entire body become significantly colder than it already is.
No- Leon couldn’t have bested him this time. How did Leon get here ahead of him? He did so many perimeter checks before entering the Catacombs and Leon was nowhere to be found. There should be absolutely no reason for him to be here- unless he had planned to kill you so you are a ghost again? That would make sense and it would force you two apart.
“Which brother?”
The woman cocks her head at him and then a realization seems to be forming in her mind.
You weren’t supposed to be going anywhere with Leon and it’s likely this woman just directed you to your actual death.
“His name is… Leon,” she reads the name uneasily, “she wrote only your name in the registry- specifically put ‘WAITING FOR ASTARION’. Brayden tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. Your brother came in shortly after and checked the registry.”
Astarion damn near loses it- screaming profanities inside his head and desperately trying to keep from exploding all together. He can’t protect you from prison so he needs to play nice.
Afterwards? Well, let’s just say Astarion may be creating a list of people he wants to Falcon punch in the throat after you are safe and with him again. You most likely won’t approve, but he told you not to go wandering off with strangers! You do not have the combat experience or street smarts to be able to protect yourself.
Astarion goes to ask another question when a man comes racing in with a very mutilated, but living ghost. An insignia with a boot print and compass rose is on the front. The man’s black, curly locks are mangled and blue stained.
The older man is hysterical- begging someone to save his son as pieces of him begin to fall away and disappear. Astarion feels a wave of panic go through his body.
“Brayden,” the elderly woman gasps, “Gods help us!”
A group of clerics descends on the men and tries to help the man who was evidently giving you a tour. Another group goes racing out the door in the direction the body was found. Astarion makes note of this “Tombyard District” and begins to leave.
His body, however, freezes as he approaches the young Ghost laying out on the floor- wheezing painfully and his eyes meet Astarion’s a look of recognition. You must have talked about Astarion a lot.
Brayden’s eyes seem to scream back at Astarion, “she’s in danger! You need to save her!”
Astarion would know that magic and knife work anywhere- Leon got to you and this poor man probably tried to defend you. It disgusts Astarion that he is grateful for a perfect stranger, but anyone who has attempted to keep you safe is okay in his books.
He will not lose you to this place and he will make sure Brayden’s suffering was not in vain or yours for that matter.
Astarion leaves the Hall of Farewells- realizing that the more he sits there and listens to that man wail for his adult son to stay with him, the more and more hopeless and scared Astarion becomes.
Leon was Cazador’s best hunter, but it was because he was an aggressive meathead about the whole thing. It irritated the piss out of everyone. He wasn’t subtle and was more than happy to swoop in and steal your mark if it meant he could get back to the Palace faster.
It doesn’t take very long for Astarion to track Leon, but he’s alarmed when the faint scent of his other siblings begins to tickle his nose. The guard at the entrance of the Tombyard warned him against going in this late, but Astarion has a feeling he doesn’t have much time.
He stole a Ring of Manifesting on the way there so that after he finds you, you can both run straight to Waterdeep. Astarion had used one of his sending spells detailing what is going on to Tav and Gale just in case you both go MIA, but they are expecting both of you to be there. Admittedly, Astarion is quite proud of himself- you are always on him for not having a plan and this time he actually has a plan!
The smell of rotting flesh and the sound of people crying over their loved ones rings through his ears. There are multiple funerals occurring at once- mostly Drow and a few Humans.
The area is not cozy nor is it an aesthetically pleasing place to rest, the buildings look like warehouses for the bored and lonely and the statues along the streets are even graveyard-esque. It makes him uncomfortable- he doesn’t necessarily care for graveyards anymore. Not that he ever did, really.
There are alleyways here and there, but only one has Leon’s scent and the other scent is Lavender and something else he can’t pick up on. It has to be you which makes Astarion feel even more sick.
What did he tell you about following random strangers places!? One time you followed a man with white hair because you thought it was Astarion and you had been missing for an hour and a half.
Now you have been missing for probably two Gods damn days!
The scent leads him to an alleyway and the stench of rot becomes worse- Astarion can practically feel the pull of the weave in the air and the dark art of Necromancy.
Wonderful, just wonderful.
Astarion creeps along the wall- grateful that he listened to your suggestion about wearing solely black armor. It made sneaking around much easier and if he’s about to face a necromancer without a Cleric around then he’s going to need every advantage he can get.
A few new scents are in the air- much cleaner than the heavy must that threatens to suffocate him.
Think before you act, Astarion reminds himself, being irrational is not going to bring Birdie back to you any faster.
As he comes around a corner as slowly as he possibly can, he pulls his daggers out with the pointed ends against someone’s throat- he is met with a set of piercing blue eyes and earthy brown eyes. Both individuals appear to be clerics and they both gesture for Astarion to be quiet- that they are not a threat. Two other people become more visible to him.
Astarion recognizes the individual symbols on their chest as Uhanam- a lawful neutral God that is about law and intelligence-, Durann- a Lawful Good God that is about healing and listening to laws, and Aluvan- protector of Ghosts. He doesn’t recognize the other God, but she has the same symbol as the poor Cleric who had been severely injured trying to protect you.
A door appears further down an alley and a man that smells of Undeath with a beating heart comes walking down the alley. Astarion recognizes him as a Shadar Kai almost instantly.
Much to his irritation, the individuals let him pass by them, but he watches one use sleight of hand to maneuver the keys off his belt. The Shadar Kai doesn’t even so much as flinch. It’s rather impressive and Astarion enjoys the shit eating grin the Wood Elf flashes at their fellow clerics.
You would really like these people. Astarion will like them as long as none of them attempt to take you away from him.
“Alright,” one of the clerics, a blonde halfling woman, releases a sigh of relief before continuing her whispering, “hello- are you friend or foe?���
“Depends,” he whispers back, “are you going to kill everyone-including the people they have held captive- or are you on a rescue mission.”
“Rescue and revenge mission- actually,” the half- elf woman with the same insignia as Brayden says, “they tried to kill my fellow Cleric, Brayden- my husband in fact, and they kidnapped the person he was showing around. We just hope she’s still alive- this Lich doesn’t hang onto people very long.”
Of course it’s a fucking Lich.
“For all of your sake,” Astarion snarls, “you better hope she is alive.”
“Your loved one, I take it?” the halfing says.
Astarion nods- they need to know there is someone here for you and if they so much as look at you funny, he will kill them with absolutely no remorse to show for it.
“That settles it then,” the Wood Elf says, “let’s go save some folks and kick some ass!”
It was like being around Karlach- the cleric has a goofy grin and an even goofier vibe.
Astarion follows them- trailing behind so that he can take more time to search and see you before it becomes a bloodbath.
You just have to find her and get out of here, Astarion repeats like a mantra in his head, she is alive, she is safe-ish, she is okay. Everything is going to be fine because it has to be fine.
The place is filled to the brim with various undead creatures haunting it’s halls. Some creatures he has never even seen before and others look like they are stitched together with mismatched parts.
Astarion tries to swallow his panic- no sign of you yet so you may just be caged some-
“NO PLEASE!” your voice screams through the air and the sound of you struggling against someone rings alongside your voice, “PLEASE! I- DON’T WANT TO BECOME THAT- PLEASE!!!!!!”
You cry out in pain and Astarion begins barrelling past the Clerics who are trying to stop him, but they can figure it out. He needs to get to you.
Astarion pushes past every individual who comes by him- some try to attack him and he is quick to rebuke them or kill them with one blow. Your screams are becoming more and more panicked- you sound like you are fighting for your life and Astarion wishes you were aware that he is right here- nothing will happen to you.
He just needs to find you and then you never have to come to this horrible place ever again.
“ASTARION!” your cries are coming from down the hall, “ASTARION, HELP! PLEASE!”
Your voice has begun to sound gargled, but he knows he’s on the right floor- the scent of Lemongrass hanging in the air like a blessing.
When he finally finds the room you are in, he watches as some kind of magic tries to contort you into something else entirely. You are fighting to prevent it- tears streaming down either side of your face.
“Astarion- please hurry,” your anger and your voice being reduced to a tearful whisper, “I’m not ready to die.”
And he’s not ready for you to. In fact, Astarion feels positively homicidal.
Within a millisecond, Astarion is shoving his daggers between the Lich’s ribs and it cries out in surprise- Astarion uses an arrow of Thunder and sends the Lich crashing into the wall- one of it’s arms dislocating in the process.
The Shadar Kai descend on him and you struggle against your restraints- trying to get away from the ones that are trying to hold you back down and keep him from getting to you. They are unlatching your restraints and dragging you towards another hall. The Lich waiting like a coward behind it’s soldiers.
“ASTARION!” you scream, “BEHIND YOU!”
He sends another Shadar Kai to the Shadowfell thanks to your warning, only to have one of the Shadar Kai holding you cut your throat, an angry growl leaving Astarion,and he cuts through every creature his blade can get it’s sharp edge on.
A crash from behind him and the horrific creature that comes racing into the room distracts Astarion and he’s grateful that the Clerics had caught up with him because he wouldn’t have been able to save himself from the oncoming Ghoul running towards him otherwise.
He makes eye contact with Dalyria, but it’s not her eyes. The sight of his siblings and their fate makes Astarion feel ill- the Lich gestures and suddenly they are collapsing to the ground in a ball of red magic. The blood curdling scream of anger that leaves Astarion’s mouth scares him.
The Lich looks like he’s about to shit himself.
Not only had this horrible, unnatural creature taken you and harmed you significantly- it had destroyed his family. The only one he knows and remembers. The only people in the whole world who know what it means to suffer just as well as he does.
The creature gets back up and the Lich doesn’t have time to dodge before one of it’s unnaturally strong hands grabs it’s face and sends it’s flying away from the hall- it’s skull begins to crack the moment he makes impact with the wall.
The Lich uses shadow step to retreat down one of the hallways as his siblings run at him again- looking rather pleased that they chased it off.
He feels angry- it won’t be safe for you or his siblings here or anywhere with that Lich fucking off. Astarion wants to go after it- desperately and end this once and for all, but he knows he can’t.
Instead, he returns his attention back to the battle and getting to you as you continue to struggle against your captors. He’s over there in seconds- uses Dimension Door to put you in a safe corner and then using Misty Step to get back into battle. The creature that is his siblings stand protectively in front of you- waiting to destroy anyone who dare harm you. Their eyes meet his and they nod- we’ve got her.
He tries not to cry from sentiment alone- they care about him enough to keep you safe so he can focus on killing the other enemies in the room and Astarion never thought he would see the day where that would ever happen. It’s a shame it’s probably too late now to try to start over with each other again.
The remainder of the creatures are destroyed and Astarion personally mutilates the individual who decided cutting your throat was a fantastic idea.
Once it all calms down and everyone is dead- the Clerics lock the hallway door where the Lich had run away and they gesture for the mix and match of his siblings to follow as they exit the building.
The Aluvan Priestess, the Halfing, is the one to assure them that they would reverse their condition, they’ve apparently done it before and he hears your choked sigh of relief. He’s surprised to see the monstrous versions of his siblings look at you with hopeful eyes and you back at them.
It must have been a horrible 56 hours.
Brayden’s cleric in arms and wife comes over and heals your throat, your wrists, and offers you a clean outfit. You are shaking as you take the clothes and you look at the woman with your lower lip trembling.
“Is Brayden okay? He was trying to keep me safe.”
The woman nods and smiles, “he’s in rough shape, but nothing he won’t be able to come back from- thank Wyst.”
That seems to make you cry harder and Astarion is quick to scoop you up into his arms now that the initial shock of everything he has just seen has worn off. You cling to his neck, your arms wrapped around him tightly, and he just rubs soft circles into your back.
“It’s safe now, Birdie,” he whispers, “I will never ever let anyone harm you again.”
*****************************
It’s later in the evening when you seem to finally be more yourself again, but Astarion can tell that something horrible happened to you at the hand of the Lich. He is refraining from asking- not wanting to upset you or push you too hard.
You are drinking the honey mead in your hand heavily- eating bread and cheese along side it. Ghosts can’t get hung over so you took it as an opportunity to try to drown out the events of the last couple days.
It’s when you look at him with tearful eyes that he knows you are truly, honest to Gods suffering.
“Darling?” He gently takes your hand in his, “what is it?”
You look up at the ceiling with a trembling lip before looking him in the eyes again.
“He cut me open,” you choke, “he- he took out my organs and put them in other bodies before putting them back in mine.
“Then he was going t- to,” you shake as you try to get through your next sentence, “he was going to turn me into a Necroplasm. A horrible creature only made of bone and ectoplasm. Lifeless; thoughtless.”
Your face is back in your hands and Astarion is feeling an incredibly confusing amount of emotions right now.
He wants to hunt down that lich and destroy the bastard limb by limb, over and over again until he finally shows the last bit of mercy he could- breaking the phylactery.
But he also wants to get out of the City of Manifest entirely. His siblings are all separated again- temporarily Ghosts, but incredibly happy to not be melded together while the Clerics search for the remainder of their bodies to reconstruct. He has no idea how it works, but apparently the Gods over manifest are much kinder than the ones who dominate the rest of Faerun.
Leon is the only one who hasn’t come back, but he’s dead to Astarion either way. He was quite impressed with the amount of damage you had been able to inflict. Once he teaches you how to use a dagger, you could truly be unstoppable.
However, that’s for a later date when you become settled.
Gale sent him two tickets to teleport to Waterdeep and you seemed to be relieved that you wouldn’t be staying here- you want to come back, but after you feel more confident in your ability to protect yourself.
Tav and Gale are getting married in a few weeks- Waterdeep will be good for both of you. It will be familiar and comfortable.
You can stay together in the room you usually occupy, he will keep watch if that’s what you need to sleep for a while.
Anything to make you feel safe again.
“I feel so violated,” you sniff and laugh sadly to yourself, “I have the worst luck. The first touch I receive in three and a half centuries and it’s while I’m being cut open and fit to others like a puzzle piece- like a thing.
“I could feel it,” you wipe your eyes, “every horrible thing those people felt before they died. I felt their love and misery for the people they were never going to see again-“
This was not how Astarion wanted this reunion to go- Leon is dead, but it would never feel like enough.
Leon took honest, innocent moments you deserved to have and tainted them- all for something that was never going to happen anyway.
A Lich is a Lich and he’s going to hunt the bastard down- you were just a victim of opportunity in his eyes.
“I wish I had gotten there faster,” Astarion whispers, “this isn’t how I imagined this going.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, wiping your eyes.
Does he tell you that he envisioned at least kissing you? If you wanted? Now it feels like it would be pressuring you.
“It’s not imp-“
“No- enough about me,” you say, “I want to know what you’ve been doing and how life in the sun has been!”
Astarion smiles softly, “there hasn’t been a life in the sun without you. I barely noticed- I was focused on getting here to you.”
“Wait, really?” he nods in affirmation, you smile widely at that, “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who missed hanging around.”
You look so happy looking at him- you are wearing his shirt since your own clothes had been practically destroyed and the clothing that was lended to you was uncomfortable.
“I’m going to wash my face and all the ick from these last couple days off real quick- I’ll be back.”
He couldn’t help but miss you- even a room away when you go to wash off. Astarion had braided your hair back afterwards.
Every part of you is beautiful and lovely- he was so scared he lost you without ever getting to see what would happen between the two of you. He hates how gushy and mushy he’s become over the last two days- at this rate, he’s just going to embarrass himself when you ultimately don’t return his feelings.
“Be my date for Tav and Gale’s wedding,” he blurts out of nowhere.
Nice going panty dropper- you call that romantic?
“What?”
You literally said one sentence and blew up the whole thing, Astarion scolds himself.
Astarion clears his throat, “I couldn’t think of a better plus one nor anyone I would want to suffer through the cheesy affair with.”
“Yes!” You exclaim, jumping up, “one hundred thousand times yes! Oh my gosh!!!!!! We will need to go shopping or thieving- who cares- I GET TO GO TO A WEDDING WITH MY FAVORITE PERSON!!!!!”
Oh thank Gods.
Your once melancholy mood has shifted and Astarion feels a warm glow in his chest. He can already think of what cut would fit you best, what colors, how your hair should look, etc.
You ask him so many questions- what color does he think would be best? Will you match with him? What color would be best for both of them? And “GODS ABOVE HOW WILL I DO MY HAIR AND MAKE UP!? I’m out of practice!”
Oh and you made it very clear- absolutely no tulle or crowns.
You both somehow decide on lavender and silver. Astarion figures he’ll wear silver with lavender designs and you will do the opposite.
“What if I don’t remember how to dance!?” You say, mortified, “I’ll embarrass us both!!!”
“Oh the horror- to be forced to save my darling damsel in distress from tripping over her own heels,” he teases, pushing a stray hair out of your face, “I’m sure I have more than enough dancing experience for both of us.”
You look at him and bite your lip- a little bit of worry in your eyes.
“What is it, my Sweet?”
He struggles to stop his smile at the nice blush that courses under your skin at the term of endearment.
“I- I know you hate parties,” you start cautiously, “are you sure you want to dance and everything? We don’t have to if it would make you unhappy. Just being there with you would be more than enough. Unfortunately I can’t offer not going, I think Tara would murder me.”
Well that is… unexpected. Astarion’s body feels like it’s radiating with happiness and affection- you are quite literally perfect.
Pull yourself together.
“I’ll be fine, my Dear,” he says with a slight dismissive wave of his hand, “besides, this is my first party as a free man- who knows? Maybe I’ll become a party fiend.”
“Ha! I don’t think you like people enough to do that.”
“But I like you enough to,” he states, “so if you would like to go to them from time to time- I have no qualms.”
Gods when did he become such a romantic?
You, on the other hand, look like you might explode and he can’t tell why, but he hopes he hasn’t pushed it too far. Astarion is quickly reassured when a coy, mischievous smile passes over your face.
“I promise I won’t make you go to too many parties,” you tease, “one too many and one might end up being a funeral.”
“Ah see, that’s my kind of party!”
“Oh my Gods,” you shake your head, giggling, and put it in both of your hands, “you don’t even like cemeteries.”
“You don’t need a cemetery for a funeral if you are creative enough, Darling,” he smiles cheekily, “I do put the fun in funeral after all.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head with a smile at his Gods awful pun- he learned it from Shadowheart on their adventures and he loves to sprinkle it into conversations.
“Fair.”
Somehow, you eventually end up asleep in his arms in the plush Inn bed like he had dreamed about the other night. You snore softly as Astarion holds you closely to him- making a point of looking at the door and windows frequently enough so there aren’t any surprise visitors.
Astarion has never actually cuddled with anyone (willingly, at least). Anyone who’s ever been in a bed with him has been condemned to becoming Vampire spawn (he almost wishes they had all just been dead). It was just sex, nothing more or less. Sure people offered, but it never felt right.
This? This feels right and like you were made for him. It’s a miracle truly- Intimacy without any sexual touch and he has the choice to be there, curled up around you.
It feels heavenly- better than his trances could have ever imagined.
You are both the same temperature so you almost feel warm to the touch. Your eyes are moving back and forth as you dream, he is relieved to see a content smile on your face.
Astarion is prepared to be there for you if you have nightmares. You have taught him that just having someone to comfort you is enough. He just wishes you didn’t experience any of it in the first place, but he won’t be keeping you too far out of reach or unguarded so hopefully it will never happen again.
Eventually sleep takes Astarion too and he’s grateful for the somewhat peaceful rest- until it turns into a full blown fucking sex dream.
Astarion tries not to jolt you awake- somehow aware enough of his surroundings to know you are still there. You are still fast asleep- dawn is coming and Astarion is not, which could very well be a problem if you wake up while he’s hard.
He sneaks away to the washroom- making sure to lock the door.
He will just take a bath, cool himself off, and then go back to bed for a cuddle. It’ll be like this never happened.
(Smut begins)
He’s never actually masturbated and there is a significant amount of weariness when he thinks about the idea. Sure he’s done it for show, but never in a private, alone moment.
Astarion has basically been celibate for the last nine months and of course, now that you are a ghost person again, his libido decides to rear it’s ugly head.
He doesn’t even know if you actually want him that way!
The water is lukewarm and Astarion leans back against the tub- willing his hard on to go away already. It feels almost impossible to forget his trance- the way your pretty mouth looked around his cock, the way you keened when he filled you for the first time, the dance that takes the act from slow and romantic to something else entirely.
Wild, passionate- unrehearsed.
Astarion wraps his hands around his cock- desperate for any release he can get at this point. He isn’t going to be able to will this trance or these desires away and he is entirely in control of the act- if he becomes uncomfortable or begins to dissociate, he can stop.
“You don’t have to sleep with these people,” you reminded him softly, “Hells- you don’t have to do any of it at all if you don’t want to! Even if you are both naked and you’re already inside the person- you can stop. A good person, a person worthy of you, will respect your needs and be understanding.”
Astarion can stop. You helped him with this realization nine or ten odd months ago.
He strokes himself slowly at first, trying to mimic the movements of the trance- starting with your mouth. You are inexperienced and Astarion imagines teaching you how to suck him off- your wide, beautiful eyes looking up at him eagerly as he praises you for being such a good girl for him.
His breath hitches when he runs his thumb over the head and applying a bit of pressure over his slit, his hips bucking upward and his brain paints the beautiful picture of him thrusting into your mouth- guiding your movements by grasping your hair as gently as he possibly can as he gets closer and closer to his peak.
In this fantasy- you moan around his mouth and you are touching yourself while taking his whole length until he hits the back of your throat. You wear his shirt like you are now- nipples pert, your breasts swaying as he thrusts into you. Your eyes are lustful, hazy, and wanting.
Astarion’s head goes back by instinct- a breathy moan escaping his mouth and he’s thinking about what it might be like to be inside you. What it would be like to finally connect with someone he adores intimately.
He imagines exploring every single inch of you- finding what makes you wet and wanting for him. Astarion will ruin you for any other lover- his tongue teasing your clit and lapping up your juices like a man dying of thirst.
Astarion wants- no, needs- you to be crying out his name and telling him how you will only ever be his like he will only ever be yours.
(Smut ends)
He reaches his peak much faster than he anticipated- the release feeling like heaven. Astarion pants as he stares up at the ceiling, entirely blissed out.
Now that was incredible. He can understand why people enjoy it from time to time.
His mind continues to think of you and it gets caught on the words the elderly woman had said earlier today- about how you were lucky to have him and vice versa. Astarion let’s his brain indulge for a millisecond before locking the thought back into the “we aren’t going to talk about this right now, self!” box.
Althaeastra “Birdie” Ancunín. She would want a nice, but simple ring- nothing gaudy, he pauses his thoughts, or maybe she needs one simple ring and one gaudy one. Especially with her ability to pick up music again. What if she has to dress especially nice for an occasion? The ring should at least be able to tell people all the way out in the courtyard that she is spoken for.
He pushes his guilty pleasure thoughts aside. You are his dearest and closest companion- he will not screw that up by making you feel like you have to be in a relationship with him or like you have to jump into something right away. You just started your life and why would Astarion be your top pick? He’s a disaster- with or without you.
Well, the bliss was wonderful while it lasted. Now he’s just sad.
After cleaning up- Astarion finds himself leaning against the door frame, jealous of the warm rays of sun that get to kiss your face first thing this morning. You are still asleep and don’t stir when Astarion climbs back into bed behind you.
One day, he will tell you his feelings, but for now? Astarion is going to try to go back to sleep.
***********************************************************************
Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)
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#baldurs gate 3#astarion#astarion x reader#baldurs gate astarion#bg3 spoilers#astarion x tav#astarion romance#astarion x you#bg3#karlach#astarion x f! reader#astarion x female tav#astarion x female reader#astarion ancunin#astarion angst#astarion fanfiction#astarion smut
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Demon Slayer spoilers- Obanai's reaction following Mugen Train Arc and obviously Obamitsu content. 🩷🖤🤍💚
Several of the Hashira were in residence in the corps headquarters including Shinobu, Gyomei, Sanemi, and himself. In the last letter he received from Kanroji, she was coming back today after visiting her family. It was possible she was already back and unpacking her bags. They had plans to go out with the rest of the Hashira tonight. He sighed. It had been a month since he last saw her. They regularly exchanged letters, but it was a poor substitute for speaking in person. He missed seeing her wide smile and cheerful voice. Even the way she met his gaze out of the corners of her eyes during Hashira meetings.
Tomorrow, Master Ubuyashiki was sending him out on a patrol further north around Fukushima. There were accounts of several lower level demons ambushing travelers. Two demon slayers came back severely injured when they went to investigate. Weaklings.
From his perch on the roof, Obanai glowered as he thought of the younger demon slayers. With every Final Selection, the corps grew weaker. It was one of the reasons they had not been able to kill an Upper Moon in the past 100 years.
To his knowledge, the last person to have contact with an Upper Moon was Kanae Kocho. It had been four years since she was killed. He only met her a few times in passing. Sanemi spoke highly of her though he was biased. Sanemi had planned to confess his love when the Flower Hashira returned from the mission that ultimately killed her.
An ill omen for any Hashira that loved someone. He closed his eyes and saw Mitsuri’s face in the afternoon light. Obanai was never going to tell her, not when it was his fate to die. She would be disgusted if she ever knew. A filthy, pathetic man pining after her. Mitsuri could never love a person like him. They were friends. Besides, she was in love with someone else. His mouth twisted and let his thoughts drift back to his original train of thought.
Since Kocho’s death there had only been rumors of the higher ranked demons. His blood boiled. Every year that passed, the demons grew stronger while the corps grew smaller. He gritted his teeth. Mitsuri asked him to give the new slayers a chance to prove themselves. It was difficult when one was a nervous wreck, a boy raised by boars, a girl who could not make a decision without tossing a coin, Sanemi’s brother who had no swordsmanship skills, and the last one. Kaburamaru hissed, recognizing the shift in Obanai’s mood.
The last one was the Kamado boy who carried the box that contained a demon. He claimed the demon was his sister. She may have been his sister, but she was long dead. The creature that replaced her was a cruel, sadistic demon. It was only a matter of time before the girl went on a rampage and murdered innocents. A muzzle would do nothing if she was enraged, not even her brother would be able to stop her. At the trial, Master Ubuyashiki ordered him and Sanemi to stand down and not to harm the boy or demon. He clenched his fist. He respected the leader of the corps, but he was making a mistake in trusting Kamado and the box demon.
Three of the new slayers were sent out to assist Rengoku with a mission along with that demon. Rengoku was one of the strongest Hashira and would have no issue killing the girl if she acted out of line.
Obanai tapped his thumb to each of his fingers. Out of the corner of his good eye, he saw a lone crow soaring towards him. Great. Let’s see how this crow can make my day worse. The bird landed and stared inquisitively at the Serpent Hashira.
“Get on with it,” he ordered gruffly. Kaburamaru turned to stare at the bird, flicking out his tongue in displeasure. He reached his hand up to stroke the white scales as a means to calm himself.
“Cawww! Kyojuro Rengoku is dead. Upper Moon Three killed the Flame Hashira,” a crow called out. His eyes narrowed on the crow as his heart froze.
“I won’t believe it,” he said as he frowned at the bird. He stood on the roof of his house, staring at the clouds. There was no way Rengoku was dead. It was not possible. Kyojuro was one of the strongest Hashira. An ache built in his chest, one he was unfamiliar with.
“Kyojuro Rengoku is dead,” the crow said again as if Obanai had not heard it the first time. The bird flapped its wings and flew off the roof. It kept announcing to the world that the Flame Hashira was dead. The crow would not lie. This creature did not have the capability to lie or be malicious. What purpose would it serve?
“I won’t believe it,” he whispered to Kaburamaru, repeating the phrase. I don’t want to believe it. Obanai was raised with Kyojuro and Senjuro following his family’s deaths. Kyojuro always wore a smile and spoke with unmatched enthusiasm. He was one of the only Hashira that even matched Obanai’s logic and intelligence when it came to battle strategy. He would never get to talk to his friend again.
Obanai stepped to the edge of the roof and stared at the ground before jumping off. The ache in his chest was building and he could feel the corners of his eyes stinging. The other Hashira would be hearing the news as the crow flew from estate to estate.
He needed to check on Mitsuri. She had been Rengoku’s tsugoku and they shared a close bond. She would be devastated when she heard. He turned and ran in the direction of the Love Hashira’s estate, ignoring the looks from the people he passed.
Before long, he stood in front of Mitsuri’s estate. It was bright and inviting, much like its master. The wood stain was a warm tawny shade with an open concept. He could hear the crow still announcing the news. If she were here, she would know. Mitsuri, please, be okay.
Obanai knocked on the sliding door and waited. It was not long until the door slid open and he saw Mitsuri’s attendant. The woman’s dark eyes widened seeing the Serpent Hashira, but bowed deeply as she moved to the side to allow him entry.
“Miss Kanroji is in the kitchen, Sir,” the elderly woman said. Obanai barely glanced at her as he swept her and sped towards the kitchen. He smelled a mixture of vanilla, matcha, and ginger. His nose wrinkled at the contradictory scents. He stepped over the threshold to see Mitsuri sitting in the middle of the floor. Her eyes were red, cheeks puffy from crying. She held a bowl in her hands as tears fell.
“Miss Kanroji,” Obanai greeted her in a concerned tone. Her head turned towards him, green eyes haunted.
“Iguro-san,” she hiccupped. She set the bowl aside and moved to sit up, but he raised his hand to stop her. He put away his usual restraints. The Serpent Hashira sat down beside her and brought her into his embrace. Grief made her shiver against him. “He’s gone,” she buried her face into his chest.
“I know,” he murmured calmly. He hardly ever let himself touch her unless she initiated it. His hands were stained with the sins of his family. He covered his hands with his haori often to avoid tainting anyone, especially her. Except she sought out his touch whether it was to hold hands or hug him. It was during times of distress he let himself hold her, like now. Kyojuro had been her mentor and friend. They were similar. Kind, generous, empathetic. Better people than him. A snake slithering in the dark seeking to steal their warmth. He glowered at himself. There was no room for his self loathing when the love of his life needed support. Miss Kanroji was his priority.
“Rengoku was one of the best people I ever knew,” he began. He felt her inhale sharply as she tried to control her breathing. Tears stained his haori. “He was easy to talk to, made friends easily, and never let people down.”
“He looked out for me and-” she hiccupped. “He always gave me the last dumpling when we went out. He was like my brother,” she sniffed and tightened her hold around him. Her strength pushed the air out of his lungs and he coughed. Mitsuri loosened her grip and gave him an apologetic look.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. He bent his head and held her gaze steady. How and what he felt did not matter, only Mitsuri mattered. Seeing her this sad and defeated was not something he ever wished for her. He touched her cheek, wiping away a tear with the sleeve of his haori. “We’re all going to miss him,” he added, his voice cracking.
“When- When we were younger, Kyojuro liked to act out some of the plays he read. He forced me and Senjuro to join him and threw Shinjuro’s old clothes over us as costumes. It was comical, really. Three young boys in clothes too large and tripping over themselves. It was one of the few times I felt normal-” Obanai paused, studying Mitsuri’s face. Her mouth opened slightly and waited for him to continue.
“Kyojuro always knew how to make others feel better. It’s who he was. His last action was to protect his juniors. It would have been his honor to do so,” Obanai swallowed. Kyojuro’s mother, Ruka, instilled a strong sense of justice and the need to protect others into the Flame Hashira. The strong were meant to protect the weak. Mitsuri grasped the back of his striped haori and he brought her head into his chest again.
“You know wherever he is now, he’s not alone. He made friends wherever he went. People were drawn to his charisma and outgoing nature. Not even death will keep him down,” Obanai said.
#obamitsu#obanai iguro#mitsuri kanroji#obanai x mitsuri#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kny spoilers#rengoku kyojuro
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Bruce should kill the Joker because he created the Joker. Batman is the one that chased him into ace chemicals which resulted in him falling into the acid and the Joker is obsessed with Batman. We’ve seen (at least in one DC movie) that the Joker just stops being the Joker when Bruce dies. Could this all have happened without Batman? Yes and then it would be someone else’s problem but right now Joker is a monster of Batman’s creation and he should be the one to end him.
On your same logic should it also be on Joker's parents since they also created him, or maybe on the government / social systems since they were the ones that failed joker to begin with and made him turn to a life of crime ? If anyone has the legal right in America to kill the joker it would be the criminal justice system so why dont they sentence joker to death? Bruce hands joker off to the local authorities every other week shouldnt it be their responsibility at that point to keep joker incarcerated until he can be deemed no longer a threat to himself and others? And just bc one dc movie said joker would stop after Bruce dies doesn't mean that always happens especially with how dc keeps insisting there are multiple jokers- does Bruce have to kill all the jokers or just the one he personally spooked off the side of a platform by accident? I don't totally think you can blame Bruce for joker being as insane as he is since harley took the same dip and she still redeemable, and I don't think it should be on Bruce to compromise his morals just to kill a clown that literally several other people can kill - and I know " "ohh but Bruce gets in the way" then don't tell batman about it don't invite batman to your execution of the joker don't let him find out when Bruce's no kill rule is at its maximum (bc writers can't decide how extreme it should be) he can't let anyone die if he knows about it so just be sneaky and don't let him know
#ask#anon#i think its funny that people also are ignoring#bruce himself in this argument#bc bruce says constantly#if i kill one person i will not be able to stop#hes literally like someone who knows they have an addictive personality#refusing alcohol at a party and everyone keeps saying nah but this one drink its only one drink and you made the drink the drink deserves i#are you all prepared for the batman you get after he kills i guess is what im asking#anyway bc of a certain someone i really wanna draw some werewolf jason again#so might do that tonight#well see#but yeah genuinely been enjoying reading everyones opinion on the matter#so far i dont think any have changed my mind#just nice seeing everyone talk about it too
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"ur repressed" okay well have u even considered that emotions r purposeless and only serve to cause harm to those around u and I have achieved a unique transcendent state beyond them. have u considered that
#joking but like. am I wrong though#yeah no one is able to overcome the inherent human flaw of emotion and anyone who thinks they can is in fact mentally unwell#except for me I'm built different I have actually managed to transcend emotion. this is a good thing and not a problem#I saw my father's anger and my mother's discontent and my brother's self loathing and my friend's yearning.#and I saw how it only made everyone more unhappy. and I decided I would be above them all and never let my emotions rule me.#I was scared of the dark until I realized that fear wasn't useful to feel. so I stopped feeling it#this is a good thing and I am a paragon of mental health I think#mmm alternatively I was made to play mediator in a family of traumatized ppl and learned to repress my emotions to the point of dysfunction#but I prefer to think I'm enlightened and have no problems. this is fine and will not blow up in my face#anyways. just now realizing that this might stem from my childhood. oops#also realizing that I'm probably not aro and I just learned to turn off romantic attraction bc I saw how miserable it made my friend??#well. I still don't experience romantic attraction. but probably I should and I will if I ever sort out this repression thing. whoopsie#really she was ready to kill herself over some white guy and I looked at that and was like. nope. I'm never stooping to that level#mm might not help that my parents never loved each other and I never had a healthy romantic relationship modeled for me as a child#but still like really like what is the point. of having emotions. they're just not useful#oh hurr durr I'm angry at my friends for talking over a tv show. there is no way to act on this without damaging ppl and relationships#ohh I'm in love with this guy who will never love me back. THERE IS NO PRODUCTIVE WAY TO ACT ON THIS#literally emotions can only be destructive and I'm a better person for opting out of them#there are no downsides to being repressed! I can still feel positive emotions. I'm happy sometimes. sometimes I'm excited. it's fine#guy who is Unpacking Things live on ur dash. sorry#narcissus's echoes#vent
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🤧🐀🌧️🌊
#need to clear my head;#im in such a bad mood. my face is in a perpetual angry state. im just so so bitter nd pessimistic rn#trying not to get stuck in negative chaos thought spirals nd to just take it as it come#nd be patient bc recovery takes time i know. but i havent been able to feel healthy or functional for 7 months nd i am so tired#i cant help but worry abt my health nd what kinda diet i can have nd how to work all of that out.#like the removal of the gallbladder dont ensure a good digestive system. they remove it bc it can irrepairably hurt u#also im so so stressed out abt school nd my courses. i already had to drop one last week. nd it isnt looking like i'll be able to pass my#eng class.. it just isnt looking like it's realistic at all :/ i personally dont mind if i fail. but i can get issues w my wellfare hmm#bc like im still feeling rough nd u only get sick leave for one week after surgery.. so i have to go on thursday nd friday but im gnna#be in pain plus be so hungry nd be unable to concentrate idk#idk idk!! im already willing to take out loans to finish my upper secondary school.. but i have to make it work w timing nd stuff so im not#sitting here unable to pay rent or the bills or food lmao. so idk have to fix it somehow#nd the pressure of this country rapidly declining state is stressing me tf out!! having nazi conservative rightists in the ruling is just#dreadful!!!! for many reasons but atm idek if i can do distance classes like i wanted to ://#i just.. wanna be able to go for my long walks. go to the gym. eat normally. have coffee. study nd finish highschool.#then apply for whatever program i can nd move to another calmer city. prob eventually find a path to move to another country. like norway..#im thinking too much but my thoughts are spinning nd killing me like i cant stop it im so scared nd anxious lmao 💀#im also trying to be brave and write to the psych clinic for personality disorders nd be upset nd 'beg' them for help ksksksks.#but like... the thing abt having avpd is that i kinda dont wanna bc im scared of the possibility of them helping me lol#im just in a low place nd bad headspace and it's just getring worse nd im getting more nd more tired#i dont have much more energy to keep it together nd pretend like im ok or like i have hope lmaoooo idk what to do#anyway... idk idk guess i just gotta .. keep crawling forward anyway i can
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How do I explain this? (Spoilers for Enstars Sanctuary story)
Sanctuary is the story of a guy who woke up in a strange world with weird looking monsters and empty streets with a guy who was his former theatre club president. Except the theatre club president (implied to be a bit of a cryptid except this world definitely has no magic) had somehow mentally regressed back to his five-year-old self, which is fine because he's a genius, and now the guy and his former club president have to deal with this strange place together. But the side story is that two of his friends are being shown around what is basically a cult disguised as an amusement park to indoctrinate people into believing they can become idols and apply to work in that industry. And there's also another side story in which the guy's other friend is being harassed by a middle aged man who's kidnapped their goddess, basically, and is also the mastermind behind the overarching plot in the villainous sense. Also, the former theatre club president's new team, specifically that team's leader, is perpetuating the idol cult because he's got a twisted obsession with idols and believes that to farm them is the only way they won't be discouraged by those with exceptional talent and skill.
But in reality, this is just the story of a lonely teenager who could only find a little bit of freedom to express his abandoned child self in a messed up system that another teenager (who is very smart but just doesn't understand human relationships) created because he cares about nothing but in reality cares about everything and perpetuates a cycle of constant destruction to keep his one obsession alive.
But even further than that, Sanctuary and the whole SS ARC is just a story of a bunch of high schoolers/recent high school graduates who want to sing getting tangled up in a very dangerous mafia-esque world and sometimes realizing that they should call the police or some law reinforcement but forgetting to do so every. single. time.
#note stop getting into media that offers such compelling philosophies that you blatantly disagree with challenge i guess?#i could go on a spiel about how eichi saying 'i need to continue this path of destruction for those victims i destroyed in the past'...#...is kind of self-perpetuating that cycle of destruction and teetering on using victim blaming#sort of like that one story i reblogged a while ago about the villain who counted every person they killed...#...and were brutally rebuffed by the hero#but that isnt to say i hate eichi...honestly i cant help but just feel sorry for him#because he obviously isnt as detached and or as smart as he tries to be#but he also is definitely not as in love with idols as he thinks he is rather than hes kind of obsessed with them which causes....problems#same with wataru (and whats with that mysterious old couple that im 90% sure are his foster parents?)#like i know theyre very complex and annoying and mysterious to the other characters#and they are insane. that i will not deny. if they were real id probably not be able to keep up#but as a reader theyre just lonely and definitely acting way cooler than they actually are (same with ibara sorry guys)#enstars#ensemble stars#fandom spamdom#stuff i say#enstars sanctuary spoilers#also i will say this....wataru and eichi deserve each other but also i want to pry them apart because they are NOT HELPING THE OTHER#by the way i say all of this from a point of deep amusement because this is very fun#dont take me too seriously cause im probably wrong or misinterpreting#need my disclaimer tag again but its not showing up so disclaimer these are all just my personal opinions#anyway i stand by my last post in saying the ra*bits members need a break#AND I DEFINITELY STAND BY MY DECLARATION THAT SOME SORT OF LAW REINFORCEMENT SHOULD BE CALLED#like i know that police arent great but there are CRIMES HAPPENING COME ON????#like take everything ive said on this blog as a complete joke except for that....the amount of times these teenagers have been...#...threatened with death/bodily harm/destruction of their beloved ones is kinda funny when they do it to each other#and kinda concerning when a shady middle aged man im pretty sure isnt going to be *that* bad in the end but fails in talk does it#i have rambled pardon me
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losing my mind over gojo’s sealing again
#LIKE EVERYTHING JUST HIT ME ALL OVER AGAIN AS IF I WERE READING IT FOR THE FIRST TIMR#‘not even a thousand measy human lives would be able to stop him!’#(be enough to** ? idr.)#and yet#all it took#was one specific person#to make him stop in his tracks and literally remember three whole entire years of his youth#his blue spring#HIS BLUE SPRING!!!!#AND ANIME ONLYS OR NEE MANGA READERS LIETEALLY JUST SEE#THEY SEE JOGO MAKE HIS COMMENT THEY SEE ‘GETOS’ CONFIDENCE IN THE PLAN WORKING#AND YOURE LEFT WONDERING HOW WILL HE DO IT WHAT IS ‘GETO’ GOING TO DO TO ENSURE THE PLAN’S SUCCESS IF A THOUSAND HUMAN LIVES ISNT ENOUGH#AND YOURE TAKEN BACK TO THE FIGHT AND THE GATE OPENS AND YOU SEE ‘GETO’ CALL OUT#AMD GOJO TURNS AROUND AND YOU SEE HIS LITERAL SHOCK#WHATS GOING ON? WHY IS HE SO SURPRISED?#YOU FIND OUT GOJO KILLED GETO WITH HIS OWN HANDS THE LAST YEAR#GETO SUGURU HAS BEEN DEAD SINCE THE STORY STARTED#THEN THE PROCESS OF ELIMINATION - ITS NOT A FAKE ITS NOT A CT#HES REAL#AND HES STUCK UNMOVING AS THREE YEARS OF HIS YOUTH FLOW IN HIS MIND#THE GETO WE THOUGHT WE KNEW WAS NEVER HIM. IT WAS NEVER HIM. HE HAS NEVER#BEEN HERE#BUT WE DONT KNOW THAT YET#NOT FOR SURE#GOJO GETS TRAPPED#AND HE STARES AT ‘GETO’ AND REJECTS WHAT HIS SIX EYES TELL HIM. HE LITERALLY. DENIES KENJAKU. HE DENIES THE BODY IN FRONT OF HIM BECAUSE HE#KNOWS IN HIS SOUL#THAY JTS NOT REAL ITS NOT REALLY HIM.#AND THEN IT PANS TO ‘GETO’ AND HE SMILES AND YOURE FACED WITH THE CERTAINTY THAT THIS WAS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT PERSON THAN THE ONE WE SAW#I RAN OUT OF TAGS. SORRY IF ITS A LITTLE OUT OF ORDER ITS BEEN A WHILE. IM LOSING MY MIND.
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