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#they're going to do what they've been planning to anyway
akajustmerry · 3 days
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I didn't really like the helmet grab by Michonne in towl. I didn't think it was necessary for them to make her do that even though I know they were trying to show how angry she was. Am I overthinking this?
forgive me but I actually think you're not thinking enough. You're not thinking about what's happened from michonne's perspective. even if you were, you're not extending her any empathy because writing off her as just "angry" does not cut it here
....Michonne had to carry on believing rick was dead for FIVE YEARS, raising their kids despite that grief and then when she was given the smallest hope he was alive she gave up another 2 years with her kids, risking her life in the wastelands, surviving chlorine poisoning, and enduring more fucking trauma with nothing keeping her going but the fact that she loved him and would not give up looking...... AND THEN she finds him against all those odds and rick had the CAUCACITY to try and trick her into ABANDONING HIM and insinuate that she DOESN'T TRULY LOVE HIM UNLESS SHE DOES??? of fucking COURSE she rips that dumb fucking helmet off his head!! she wants him to say that nonsense to her FACE, hear how insane it sounds, and be greeted with the only appropriate response to an assertion so ludicrous: silence.
When my dad and I watched that episode we both agreed rick actually got off easy for trying to pull that shit after what michonne had been through. My dad even left the room when rick was bragging about his stoopid plan to trick michonne into leaving to jadis because my dad is very sensitive to second hand embarrassment and rick was so fucking idiotic for trying to do that to michonne and thinking it would work.
ALSO.....something that I've ranted about before is this idea of an empathy gap between how people see white characters and characters of colour (ESPECIALLY Black characters) because such is the racism of the world that people simply don't empathise or even sympathise with characters of colour because they've been conditioned not to. Years of racist media conditions you to empathise with white characters almost instinctively even when they're wrong. In this case, rick was wrong. Totally wrong, despite his intentions. He was dishonest, condescending, and inconsiderate. Michonne had every right to be angry and every right to show him how angry she was. The fact that you're uncomfortable with that maybe means you haven't really paid mind to what michonne has been through and maybe you haven't done that because she's a Black woman. Personally, I loved that scene so much and I also love all the scenes in ep4 where she's pissed off because michonne isn't just rick's love interest she's a protagonist in her own right and she's NEVER not once accepted less, even from him.
anyway, hope you don't think I'm being mean! I've just seen weird discourse about that scene that is so unnecessary. It simply wouldn't be a thing if people actually cared about michonne as a character, rather than just as one half of a ship.
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bellaxisworld · 18 days
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snippet time !!
thank you my loves @ecstarry @theicarusconstellation @ninety-two-bees @sommerregenjuniluft for tagging me <3
please accept this snippet of a twilight-inspired vampire jegulus one-shot i am cooking!!! it's meant to be fun and silly so don't take it too seriously.
James runs his hand up Regulus’ back to fist his hair, forcing his head back to look him in the eyes. “You’re a goddamn menace, sweetheart,” he whispers.  “You love it,” Regulus replies, pressing pressing pressing, always some sort of game going on between them.  James smirks, “I’d have to, sticking with you for what, six centuries now?” “Nearly seven.” Regulus blooms and blushes under James' gaze, so deliriously happy about seven full centuries being his. “Seven centuries. Damn. I’ve had my baby for seven whole centuries. You’re a miracle,” he whispers, using his grip on Regulus’ hair to bring their faces together, devouring Regulus in a kiss. He licks into his mouth and Regulus groans against him, sparks shooting across his skin, all the way down to his toes. His hands grip James’ shoulders hard enough to leave marks, red fingerprints smeared across skin. James completely commands the kiss, holding and moving Regulus every way he wants. Regulus is pliant against him but meets him for every push, matching every biting and bruising kiss with vigor.
the tags are going to be CONCERNING for this one !!!! regulus goes a bit crazy <3 this snippet is far more tame than the full fic. it's violent and unhinged, and there is mass murder. also, any snippets i share are subject to editing in the future.
no pressure tags to @sixlane @regscupid @theapocryphaofantares @lilacfiresoul @malchai and if anyone else wants to share a snippet, go ahead and tag me <3
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hm. the line "it's what they call 'you'." can be interpreted in two different ways.
so far, we've seen the distinction between us and kris by the narrator, what with "Kris calls for susie/ralsei" and "You whisper Noelle's name" (maybe not exactly? but you get what I'm saying). But this doesn't seem TOO consistent. I'd wager a guess that the narrator at least reflects Kris' thoughts, since it has their sense of humor and everything, so it makes sense that "you" depends on the context- whether they're talking to us or themself.
So we've got two ways of reading this line. "It's what they call 'you'."
The first- Talking to us. It's what they call "you", meaning that despite what people say, the person in the mirror isn't you, it's Kris.
The second- talking to themself. It's what they call "you", meaning that it's not actually them, and rather the player. The person in the mirror isn't Kris, just... you.
While still having the same overall meaning of "you are controlling my body and deceiving people by acting like you're me", they tell a different story concerning Kris' outlook on what's going on here. On one hand, you have them refusing to accept that you've taken their identity and insisting that it's still them. On the other, we have a more unfortunate outlook- That even though the people still think they're Kris, they're not, and that what was Kris is now you. That Kris is now just... Not present.
Of course, Kris IS present, but interpreting this line in one way can drastically change how far along in acceptance they are, and how they feel about the situation as a whole.
I've kind of forgotten where my brain was going, so have this.
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5 episodes into Deadloch and this show is so much more fun when it isn't trying to pretend like it's not copaganda like genuinely a really fun mystery and executed super well and then the lib-ish politics of the show keep popping in like "hey fuck the gender binary" and "hey queer people don't murder, we get murdered" and "hey our lead is a lesbian cop" and it's like shut the fuck up already my god. like you're bringing up all these issues you're clearly not gonna fucking reckon with because you can't by the nature of the show unless this ends with cops getting abolished in australia so like what are you doing here, you know? like in the first few minutes of episode 1, the lead lesbian cop finds ACAB spray painted on her neighbor's garbage cans and we just haven't gone anywhere with that, it's not like used to critique the system or anything, and her response is just to get it cleaned up. so like. it's just kinda infuriating.
#james talks#deadloch#Michael Schur did this. B99 is a fun show but jesus lord it has done such irrevocable and incomprehensible damage to shows like this.#like i'm not even saying that shows shouldn't reckon with issues like this. it would be irresponsible NOT to but like oh my god guys.#what is the end goal here?#like truly genuinely what are you planning on achieving with these remarks if not to constantly remind the audience—#that the protags are complicit in the oppression of the people who they've been hired to defend and in reality are ineffective & unnecessary#like they're doing a pretty decent job of showing just how bad & broken the system is and that's like kinda cool but at the end of the day—#it's kinda inherent to the genre to be copaganda and your attempts aren't mitigating it.#they're making it worse bc you keep reminding us how woke you are.#i will say though as far as i am aware (my knowledge extends as far as tertiary facts and Jennifer Kent's The Nightingale)—#the representation of First Nations People/First Australian People and the colonizing Australians is actually pretty well done.#like the racial stuff here IS nuanced and interesting. the rest is... distracting at best.#anyway it's a fun show so far and there's a lot of lesbians in here and it doesn't feel particularly TERFy so far so feel free to watch it#the mystery is genuinely fun. i just don't love the constant 'hey we're so woke guys' reminders#anyway cool that it's a show by women with 3 women leads and a majority queer cast of characters that's talking about land back and stuff#like there is fun to be had here but i know by the nature of it that the buildup can't go anywhere or lead to anything so it's just annoying
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queen-scribbles · 11 months
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This right here is what pisses me off the most about qt costing now. This is a Sith Warrior, sitting in Marka Ragnos’ tomb and unable to fast travel back to the Academy bc I didn’t have enough money. There is NOTHING  in her inventory. I already sold everything she didn’t currently have equipped. 
Normally when I start a new toon I send them seed money, but since this one’s just a throwaway for the weekly I didn’t bother. Wound up fast traveling to the field research area and taking a speeder, which does work, BUT it’s still annoying bc you used to be able to just go all the way back. Yes, it’s a convenience thing. I get that. They don’t have to include it, you don’t have to use it. But they did include it, and it’s a convenience that’s been free for years, and some newbie who has no higher level toons to send an allowance credits to starter ones is gonna be unable to take advantage of that convenience bc BW decided to add an arbitrary and frankly overpriced cost to it. How is Jo Schmo who just started the game contributing to inflation, BioWare? What negative impact are they having on the economy when they’ve only been playing for two hours and haven’t even left the starter planet? How does this help fix the economy? Anyone selling items for fuck you money through the trade channel isn’t even going to feel less than 800 credits, but it’s more than starter toons HAVE after SELLING EVERYTHING IN THEIR INVENTORY.
In my opinion, if they absolutely insist on keeping the charge for qt in the game, it needs to either a) not kick in til at least either Coruscant/Dromund Kaas(and even then, most places on Coruscant are 5k from the Senate tower. It’s ridiculous, so I’d argue Balmorra/Taris) or b) get cut waaaaaaaaaaaaaay down for starter/home worlds. I don’t care if that means higher level players aren’t paying a lot for travel when they come back to Coruscant/DK. As another example, It cost 8 times as much to quick travel from Kalikori Village to the Jedi temple vs taking the speeder.
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starswallowingsea · 1 year
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assassin himeru au
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Good People
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.
Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.
He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.
Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.
Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.
"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.
"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.
A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."
"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."
"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.
"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"
"Well, because he's your family."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."
"That's different!"
"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.
"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."
"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"
"Yes!"
"But why?" Eddie presses.
"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"
"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."
"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."
"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."
Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.
"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."
"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."
"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."
Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.
"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."
"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"
"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.
Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.
He's got some thinking to do.
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silentcryracha · 11 months
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❍ ‗ Baby Fever (Hyunjin) ‗ ❍
Pairings : Hyunjin x f reader
Genre/warnings : Just fluff! Mentions of pregnancies and giving birth (no graphic/explicit)
Summary : One of your best friends just had a baby, so you and your longtime boyfriend Hyunjin go see the new family, ending the day with unexpected plans.
Word count : 3.3 k
A/n : Damn this turned out long. I truly can't help it apologies (lol). Anyways this is something that I would've wrote regardless I think, but the inspiration definitely came from the recent video of Hyune, Felix and Innie with the baby. They got baby fever and so did I, what can I say :')
ps: There could be errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎
Part two and Three are out!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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As soon as you got the call from your best friend's husband, you were overjoyed. The couple had been married for some years by now and really wished to start a family. They encountered some issues along the way, but finally their baby boy was here!
After waiting a day for her to rest a bit, you managed to make arrangements for you and Hyunjin to go see them and the baby and make your congratulations in person. You were both so happy and excited for your friends, knowing for how long they've been wanting to have children.
Around five pm you got dressed, got into the car and headed for the hospital.
"Did you text him already?" your boyfriend asked, placing his free hand on your thigh an softly stroking the clothed skin. You smiled, looking up from your phone and then at him.
"Yes, right now. He told me the floor and room number." you replied, placing your own hand on his, intertwining your fingers. "I'm so happy for them, Hyune. They're gonna be such good parents, don't you think?" a hint of emotion in your voice.
He gazed at you for a second then went back to look at the road ahead, an endearing smile on his face.
"Yes they will. That child really got lucky, he's gonna be so loved." you couldn't help but smile wider and squeeze his hand slightly at his words.
After that, the ride remained in a comfortable silence, the radio softly playing in the background. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm but not overwhelmingly so. Just perfect.
After about fifteen minutes you reached the hospital and Hyunjin took his hand off you to put them both back on the steering wheel to park. You got out of the car and started walking towards the entrance.
You felt his hand search for yours, so you intertwined your fingers and gave him a small smile that he reciprocated. You entered the building and headed for the elevators, reaching the maternity ward in a few minutes.
"This place is a maze, gosh" you commented quietly and he hummed in agreement. Just at that moment you looked around and found the room's number.
"There it is!" you said excitedly, dragging Hyunjin's hand slightly. He chuckled at your smiley face and stood beside you as you knocked gently on the door. A couple of seconds later the door opened, revealing an older woman that you didn't recognize.
You were a bit taken aback but she quickly smiled politely and moved to the side to let you two enter the room.
"Good afternoon, ma'am" Hyunjin bowed his head respectfully and you did the same, offering a polite smile. Before you could even ask, the lady introduced herself as your friend's husband mother and let you inside, closing the door again behind you.
"It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am, congratulations" you said smiling. She nodded with a happy expression as if to accept the greeting, and then extended her arm towards the other end of the room where you saw your friend laying in bed, a glass of water in her hands.
She was looking over to the side with a smile, towards what you recognized to be her mother and her own husband, whom was gently cradling a small bundle in his arms.
"Your friends are here" the lady next to you announced, reclaiming their attention. Everyone looked in your direction, saying hi to you and Hyunjin and inviting you to come closer. You did, firstly greeting your friend's mother quickly and then bending down to give the new mom a hug.
"Congratulations, I'm so proud of you" you said softly, seeing her eyes a little glassy when you retreated from the hug.
"Thank you, honey. And stop with that face, don't make me cry now!" she exclaimed, pointing at you jokingly. You didn't quite understand which face exactly you were making, but quickly realized that you must've been a little moved too from the little sniffle that you let out. Hyunjin titled his head slightly to see your face at her words.
"Sorry!" you laughed it off casually and circled the bed, getting closer to the new dad whom just smiled as if to invite you to get closer. At the same time, you faintly heard Hyunjin greeting and congratulating your friend too.
"Can I hold him?" you asked quietly, almost timidly. The man nodded with a faint chuckle at your uncertainty and responded "Of course, come here auntie" you smiled and prepared yourself to welcome the baby in your arms as gently as possible.
As soon as he was in your arms you looked down; He was sleeping peacefully, only fussing and moving a little every now and then. The conversations were still going on in the background, but you were completely concentrated on the little guy in your arms.
Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder, which made you look up to see Hyunjin standing behind you, towering over you both. He had a small smile and was also looking down at the baby. You didn't even notice your friend's husband moving on the other side of the room to talk with his mother.
"He has cute chubby cheeks." he commented, a hint of humor in his voice but still endeared. You let out a faint laugh, trying to not move too much. That must've woken him up though, because his little eyelids fluttered revealing his cute eyes. You both smiled at the child.
"Oh, hello there. Did you sleep well, mh?" you cooed, lulling him gently. He blinked a few times, looking curiously at the two of you that clearly weren't his mom and dad. Hyunjin raised his and and slowly extended his fingertip to touch the baby's hand.
"Hi, little one. How are you- ...oh!" he gasped softly when he wrapped his little hand around his pointer finger. You chuckled and awed at the same time, looking up at your boyfriend's face that had a cute shocked expression on his face.
"You're already friends with uncle Hyune!" you joked, smiling down at your new nephew. Hyunjin moved the finger gently up and down to make him play a bit.
"Of course we are! See, he's also smiling at her auntie y/n" he chuckled lovingly when the baby did actually smile at you. It was a shy one at first but seeing you both so excited must've convinced him to allow you a bigger one, his eyes turning into crescents.
"He's so cute!" you whined overwhelmed by the sweetness of the moment. "You want to hold him?" he looked at you, a little uncertain.
"I mean, uh..can I?" his gaze searching for one of the parents. At that point you started to feel your cheeks heat up a bit. You forgot that other people were even in the room!
"Sure, go ahead Y/n." your best friend responded with a knowing smile on her face. Still a little embarrassed for forgetting yourself, you gently passed the bundle in Hyunjin's arms. He fixed his position and put him against his chest. He was glad to be wearing a comfortable hoodie in that moment. You didn't say anything for a while, just exchanging silent looks with your boyfriend. The energy between you felt quite intense, but comfortable at the same time.
"See, you guys are already pros at this." you both turned your attention towards the voice. It was your best friend's, which currently had a pretty amused expression on her face. She sipped some juice from her straw and raised an eyebrow at you specifically. You took the hint and shrugged it off with a "Don't be silly, we've been here for five minutes and he was sleeping." you replied, choosing to keep it on the humorous side.
Hyunjin on the other hand was still happily and comfortably cradling the baby, whom seemed to have fallen back asleep in the meantime. You could tell that he started to feel an extra pair of eyes watching him so he decided that it was time to give the kid back to his own parents.
He carefully walked to the opposite end of the bed and with and awkward smile placed the baby back into his father's arms, exchanging a polite nod. He then stepped back again and joined your side, circling your waist with one hand.
"You are a very beautiful couple" one of the two older women commented, with the other jumping in quickly with "How long have you been together?" and "Are you married yet?".
You were a bit shocked at the sudden questions that the two women were throwing at you like dart to a target. You and Hyunjin exchanged a look, both unsure on how to answer. But gladly your friend's husband intervened in your place.
"Mom, stop being nosy. They've only been together for two years, they have plenty of time to think about these things, right?" you both nodded awkwardly.
"All right, all right. The grandmothers have been here all day, I think this our opportunity to say our goodbyes." one said, kissing her daughter on the head and then going towards the father and child to also plant a kiss on his cheek and the little one's head softly.
"Yes I agree, your father has already been waiting for me to get home for an hour. We'll come back tomorrow, my darling." the other lady got on her tippy toes to kiss her son and grandson on the cheek, and then quickly turning to bend down and hug the mom.
"It was a pleasure to meet you both." they got closer, jackets and handbags in hand ready to go. You and Hyunjin bowed your heads again politely. "For us too, ma'ams" your boyfriend replied, before you added a "Have a safe trip home, and good evening".
After that the two older ladies waved goodbye one more time and exited the room, closing the door behind them. You turned to your friend, slightly more comfortable now that you could talk more freely.
"How are you doing? How's the pain?" you reached the side of the bed, sitting opposite to her. She huffed and took another sip of water before replying "Well I mean, my vagina is in shambles right about now, if we want to get into the specifics" everyone laughed except Hyunjin that offered a tight lipped smile, being a little taken aback by your friend's bluntness.
"I am on good stuff now so I'm feeling pretty decently, God help me when the medication wear out though." she kept going. You laughed a bit and then looked up at her husband who was still lulling their son.
"It was worth it though, wasn't it?" you replied, more as a rethorical question than anything. She sighed deeply and reached out to hold the little baby's hand gently.
"Of course it was. He was worth everything." she said, love in her eyes and voice. She exchanged a look with her husband, whom was clearly silently agreeing. You decided to switch your own gaze to Hyunjin, leaving them their private moment.
But what you found was maybe even more intense: your boyfriend whom was now leaning against the wall opposite to you with his arms crossed, head slightly tilted to the side, and an intense expression on his face. You could never mistake the love in Hyunjin's eyes.
You felt your eyes getting teary again so you decided to stand back up and move around a bit, trying to shift the energy in the room.
"In any case, one thing is for sure, this baby boy will be his auntie's best friend. Isn't that right, sweetcheeks?" you smiled at the child that actually did smile back, and even let out a small chuckle.
"Oh wow! I fear that you may be right!" your friend joked, sending funny expressions towards her own baby. "But I don't want auntie y/n to steal you away!" she kept going, making you laugh carelessly, until she added another phrase that made you freeze.
"Hyune, when are you going to give her one of her own?" all the eyes were pointed at him. Your mouth slightly agape, not sure how to respond, but surprisingly his answer was quick and left everyone speechless for a moment.
"Whenever she wants." he replied nonchalant. After a few seconds he detached himself from the wall and calmly walked over the rest of them, caressing the baby's head one more time and then nodding in acknowledgment to both the mom and the dad. "Thank you for allowing us to meet your beautiful son, again, congrats".
He then walked over to you with a small smile,"I have to make a call now so I'll get going to the car. Y/n, you can come when you're ready." he placed a kiss on your mouth, caressed your cheek swiftly and then exited the room. A couple of moments of silence followed, everyone was speechless.
"Damn that was..." the husband began, "Hot." your friend finished the sentence. You picked up your jacket and got ready to say your goodbyes.
"Uh, I think I should go now." you said a little awkwardly, but all you got in return were amused smiles.
"Yes sure y/n, thank you for coming." the man said, leaning forward a bit to peck your cheek. You nodded in acknowledgement at him and waved a bit to the small baby. "Bye little one, let's meet soon" you cooed as he looked up at you with big eyes.
"Thank you for letting us come, and again congrats." you reached down to give your friend a quick hug.
"Yeah yeah of course. Now go to your man, he's waiting for you." then she made the phone sign mouthing at you to call her later. You rolled your eyes and said bye one more time before exiting the room and back to the path for the exit of the hospital.
Your mind was full of questions. You and Hyunjin have been together for about two years now, almost three, and yes you've had those casual questions that one usually asks in the first stages of dating. The ones that go "So are you searching for a serious commitment or do you just want to hook up for a couple of months and that's it?"
Those kind of selective, honest questions. In your case, you had both been clear from the beginning that you were searching for something important, that if evolved in the right direction may end up with some more stable future plans. But you never explicitly talked about getting married nor having a family together.
If you were to be honest, you wouldn't think about it twice. If he proposed to you tonight you would say yes, immediately. If he asked you to have a baby with him, you would immediately say yes. That's the level of love, affection and trust that you had in your relationship, you knew it and he did too. But everything always went on so...smoothly that you didn't even had to bring it up. But maybe tonight was the night.
Those were the thoughts that ran through your mind as you approached the car. Hyunjin was still outside, leaned on it and peacefully scrolling through his phone. His face illuminated by the artificial light in contrast to the reddish, pinkish and orange shades that were in the sky. The sun was setting.
As soon as he noticed your arrival he put the phone in his jeans' backpocket and offered you a sweet smile and a gentle kiss on the lips. You melted into it for a couple of seconds, when he retreated.
"Shall we go?" he asked, making you nod. Always the gentlemen, he opened the car door for you and closed it once you were inside. Then he circled the car and got into his own driver's seat. In a couple of minutes he got out of the parking lot and then started driving.
You were in a comfortable silence, as you often were, but you could feel something lingering in the air, almost as if you were both waiting for the other to speak first. In the end you decided to at least start the conversation with something random, just to break the silence.
"Can I turn on the aircon?" his head turned quickly for a second towards you, then he extended his hand himself turning on the fresh air.
"Are you feeling hot?" he asked. His hand moved to rest on your thigh. It was a habit of his when you two were in the car. You were glad that he did that, lifting a bit of pressure from the situation. Or maybe it was you? Did you read too much into what he said?
"Y/n?" his voice reclaimed your attention making you realize that you forgot to respond to him.
"Uh, sorry honey. Yes, just a little." he side eyed you, squeezing your leg just slightly.
"Is something wrong?" his tone was confused but still gentle. You shook your head, taking the hand that was on your thigh and stroking it a little to reassure him.
"No no...I was just lost in thought." you answered, waiting a couple of seconds to continue, "I was very glad to see her doing so well, And the baby, too. So cute, isn't he?" He nodded, smiling softly while keeping his eyes on the road.
"Yeah. I expected some crying though" he laughed softly and you joined him.
"Well, you were very good. He even smiled at you! You're already friends." you joked, still keeping your tone lighthearted. His smile was a bit more serious though. His gaze landed on you for a few seconds.
"You also did very well." he said with sincerity, "We'll do very well." you head snapped in his direction when he said that. He noticed for sure but chose to play it off. You didn't realize that you were already home.
"What do you mean?" you blurted out. He cleared his throat, a blush starting to creep on his cheeks. He maneuvered the car and parked in front of the building. He waited until the car was off and in place to talk. Then he finally turned his body to you,
"I just mean...you know-" he seemed to struggle a bit with his words but you waited patiently. Deep inside you, you already knew where this conversation was going but the amount of emotions that came with it weren't easy to handle.
"I mean that we would probably do a good job in a situation like this. That is of course if you'll want to be with me to experience it." he finally said, a little quickly maybe, but each and every word sank in perfectly in your mind.
"Yes" the response was immediate, "Of course I want to be with you. Of course I would love to have a family with you. I love you so much, Hyunjin. Like I've never loved anyone, ever" you were getting a little choked up, but he just smiled brightly and then leaned in to kiss you softly. Both of his hands going up to cup your cheeks.
"So, if I supposedly asked you to marry me right now..." his eyes, so sweet and hopeful, looking into yours. You smiled, laughing both in happiness and at the absolute absurdity of the situation.
"Yes! Of course I'll marry you!" you both laughed and kissed again. His eyes were also getting shiny with emotion.
"I'm going to ask you again properly, ring and everything, I promise." he said, making you chuckle. "I just think that the moment was right." you nodded in agreement, also cupping his cheek.
"I know, I love you" Hyunjin kissed you one more time, lingering for a couple more seconds, then rested his forehead against yours.
"I love you too, so much."
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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nothomegal · 7 months
Text
"Flashing warnings"
Pyramid Head x GN Reader
Summary: you've been with the executioner for quite some time, enough for you to have your own special bond. You were his, and that fact alone was enough for the whole Silent Hill to avoid you, well aware of what they'll find out if they mess around. However, this little rule is unknown for any unfortunate newcomers that get trapped in this cursed town, and today you've met one of these newcomers... One would think, seeing monsters avoiding you like fire should be enough proof to do the same, but... Eh, some people are way too stubborn and blind.
Warnings: typical violence and gore, (Y/N) getting mistreated by meanies >:(
Word count: 2.9k
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(Y/N) been sitting on this old matress for quite some time, they've already tried any possible sitting position yet non made the book they're reading more interesting.
Pyramid Head, or how they began to call him, 'Pyra', left to hunt and punish whatever soul putrid enough to get his attention. He's been gone a good amount of hours and they haven't heard a single sound of his in the distance, no metal scraping against the concrete at the distance or any screams of agony from his victim, nothing. How many hours it been? Three? Five? It's tough to tell, specially when this town knows no day/night cycles and it's always foggy. Even though they're not sure how long it been, they can tell it's the longest Pyra's been gone.
They switch into a laying position as they begin to think about what to do now. They could totaly go out and take a walk if they wanted, but they're concerned they'll end up bumping into the people Pyra is hunting. No, they won't get punished but they don't want to witness a literal slaughter neither, and whenever something (literaly anything) dares to interact with (Y/N), the pyramid headed beast seems to go wild of fury.
This is some very serious issolation, but (Y/N) became fine with it and Pyra is not as bad of a company as he initialy was. Feel him close to them, his big palm resting against their body as a reminder that he's there, the random noises that come out his helmet whenever he seems content or wants to get their attention... To be honest, these little things became more than enough at this point, and it's not like they've used to be the most social butterfly anyways. And even if they were... Well, arguing with Pyra is useless, he never budges, and if (Y/N) starts to get unreasonable or the argument goes nowhere, he simply brushes his togue across their face, purpously waiting for the moment their open their mouth. And ta-da! Argument solved since (Y/N) is too shocked and flustered to continue and Pyra simply let's out a deep and amused rumble.
(Y/N) chuckles to themselves at this memory, when it happened the first time the face they made was probably priceless, and the way Pyra allowed them to hide their face in his chest so the shame goes away... Sigh, they hope he returns soon.
The hairs on the back of their neck stood up when they began to hear the sound of numerous people run and hurriedly yellsomething to each other. (Y/N) of course panics a bit, and to avoid any possible interaction with the group of people they sneak into the corner of the room near the door, so if anyone of the group peeks inside they won't notice (Y/N) right away. It also seems like the people are running away from something, something that is not Pyra because of the lack of known bulky footsteps and scraping sounds.
Unfortunately, their little plan went town the drain when the group of around five man bursted through the old door and attempted to close it, while the creature outside of it was desperately slaming itself against the wooden surface. (Y/N) turned completely still as they shrunk in their place, internally hoping that due to the intense moment these people wouln't notice then and would simply brush off their form as some inanimate object.
Unfortunately, one of the men did noticed them.
—"Hey Dave, there's another one hidin' over he-"—
The man couldn't finish the sentence as the creature from the other side managed to burst through the door, throwing the men on the ground in the process. Some of them stumble back, others pull out their weapons and point at the creature, who resulted to be a monster known as ‘Slurper’, take a guess why it's called that. Not the most difficult creature to deal with but definitely the trickiest, it’s very fast and definitely can handle or dodge some shots and hits from the group.
The monster crawls inside of the room, it’s elongated face making some slurping noises as drool and blood drips from its mouth. But the beast suddenly freezes mid-step, and very slowly and subtly turns it’s head towards (Y/N), making the men look at them as well. The monster suddenly lets out a whine, similar to that of a dog, and practically runs away at high speed, completely terrified.
The group stare at the door in shock, their mouth gaping a bit. (Y/N) remains stiff, their knees pressed to their chest as they think what to do now. The answer comes when one of the man, who seems to be the leader, stands up and starts walking towards them, his expression indescifrable, but his gaze definitely holding malice.
So (Y/N) jumps to their feet as fast as they could and make a run through the doorway and down the hallway. They can hear the group yell something as they chase them, their voices angry and irritated, which only motivated them to keep running since it’s now clear that these people weren’t kind at all.
Things turn significantly worse when they get grabbed by the back of their clothes and then tackled down on the floor, the impact was rough and quite painful which made (Y/N) release a pained whine. The man above them grabs a good chunk of their hair and presses their head agains the dirty and cold floor as he looks at them.
—“The fuck was that? How did you do it?!”— he exclaims strictly, his tone demanding.
—“D-Did what?… S-Scaring the- the monster th-thing?”— you nervously reply, your voice a bit shaky. —“I-It’s not really me, it’s the being tha-that ‘owns’ me.”—
(Y/N) knew they sound like they’re crazy, like they’re out of their mind, but it’s the best way they can explain their unusual situation. It is true, the executioner practically owns them, he has the power to claim and to keep them with him, to keep anyone and anything away from something his, to keep them eternally by his side, his and no one else's.
As expected, the man on top of them only scrunched his face with confusion and disgust, definitely thinking that (Y/N) is just another crazy ex-resident of this hellish town.
—“Yeah… Right.”— he slowly says.
—“Mathew, do you still have the tape? Bring it.”—
A clear sound of a duct tape being unwrapped made them shiver, uh-oh, they’re in a big-time problem. They attempt to wiggle out and keep running, but the man above them slams their head agains the floor.
—“Keep it still bitch, we just want to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you.”— he grumbles angrily and slams your head again.
(Y/N) could feel blood start dripping from their nose. Being forced to calm down since these men clearly aren't fooling around and are not afraid to hurt them if they need, they relax and allow another one to tape their wrists together behind their back, as well as their ankles.
—“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, the executioner will not have mercy…”— you comment, not even bothering to elaborate, knowing that these people are dead meat already.
—“Pff, executioner. If you’re of his property, then why were you in that room just chillin’ all by yourself?”— another man asks.
—“Because he can allow himself to do it, and because any smart creature knows to not fuck around me because of what they’ll found out.”— you say, your tone a bit sassier by the end.
—“Any smart creature, huh?”— the man that was on top of you suddenly grabs you by the throat. —“In my understanding, a smart creature will learn to shut the fuck up, I could easily cut your tongue off right now if I wanted but not sure if that will affect whatever effect you have on the monsters, so I'll give you one last chance to remain quiet, understood? You farm animal.”—
The grip on (Y/N)‘s throat was tight and it was hard to breathe, the male’s eyes were dark and cold, no hesitation in them as he said these threats, definetely not the first time he makes them. Believing his words, (Y/N) nods hurriedly as the lack of oxygen began to affect them. The man grins and let go of them roughly, basically throwing their body on the floor.
—“Aight, who’s going to carry their ass?”—
The men discuss for a short moment, until agreeing that the biggest one of them should do it. Ones everything was sorted out and (Y/N) was being manhandled in his grasp, the group resumed their walking.
The men were shocked, some of them even got smug, at the way the creatures avoided them now. What’s that? A monster does have guts to attack? A single sound or movement from (Y/N) was enough to set the creature from fight into flight. Each time something run away, the men would laugh and cackle loudly, clearly feeling like they've beat the system and are some sort of untouchable beings.
Silly bastards, they don’t know what awaits them.
It’s unclear how long they’ve been roaming around, but it was long enough for the group to get lost, again, and decide to take a rest. The man carrying (Y/N) carelessly (throws) puts them on the ground, face first, as the rest settle down as well. Non of the five bothered to talk or acknowledge (Y/N), though sometimes they would throw some random questions at them, but of course they'd never been able to finish the answer since one of the five would end up rudly interrupting them.
At some point (Y/N) began to ignore them, aware that they're nothing but a gag to these people. The youngest of the group seemed a bit pissed at being ignored, so he stands up and walks towards (Y/N)'s lying form, who was still paying no mind, and out of nowhere kicks them hard on their stomach, making the air inside of them leave in a violent exhale.
—"You talk and look at us when we speak to you."—
They say nothing, still trying to regain their breath. The man above them sighs and rolls his eyes before crouching down and grabbing them by their hair, to posteriorly pull them to their knees.
—"Listen sugar, just because you scare away the crap that lives here, it means shit to us. You're fuckin' helpless and at our mercy, so you do and act as told and when is told, understood?"—
Before (Y/N) could do anything, a sudden deafening roar resonated through the whole building and from an unknown direction. The noise similar to some huge unknown beast fiercely howling through something metallic. A shiver of anticipation ran through (Y/N)’s spine, Pyra must’ve found their drops of blood and figured out what happened, and now he’s on his way to take them back.
The other five noticeably tensed up and frantically looked around, as if trying to locate the creature through the walls...
Walls.
(Y/N)'s gaze was already focused on one of he walls, knowing that their lover would't waste his time in searching for an entrance. The man, who's still holding them by their hair, slowly drags his gaze to the same wall.
—"Guys..."— he says uneasily.
—"Yes, we heard that too, dumbass."— one of the other four hisses back.
—"No, guys, get away from the fuckin- "—
A loud crashing sound resonated behind the mentioned surface, followed by the well known heavy footsteps and scraping of metal. The other four quickly get behind the fifth and (Y/N), who was currently having the brightest grin on their face, relieved that he came for them.
—"{The fuck was that?!}"— one of the males yells half whispers to you.
—"That?"— you let a little hum as you close your eyes and look away so the dust doesn't get directly into your face. —"That is the reason why everything in here avoids me."— you say with the calmest tone possible.
—"Wha- "—
Another loud crash and a huge wave of dust cut off his question completely. While the dust was still on the air, the previous heavy footsteps were quickly approaching, making the floor shake with each step. When the men saw the silhouette of this massive unknown creature they paniced, since it showed no hits of stopping, quite the opposite actually. The one, that been holding (Y/N), pushes them roughly forward without thinking, actin on some desperate instinct.
—"Here! Take them instead!"—
The five were ready to run, but got stopped by their own shock when the monster reached out and caught (Y/N) before they fall on the ground. It was still hard to see what exactly the beast did, due to the still thick layer of dust, but the sudden loud and deep metallic growl that the beast let out was enough for them to defrost and set into running. They don't get too far though, since their legs get suddenly caught and tangled into a bunch of rusty wires and thorns coming out of the floor, whick held them still and cut their soft flesh with the mildest movement.
A small chill jolted through (Y/N) at the sight of the mysterious thorns. They knew it was Pyra's doing, he rarely used that hability of his and they learned that he only uses it when he's trully pissed. And he wasn't just that, he was livid. The sight of bruises on (Y/N)'s neck from the previous grab really railed the monster up, just how dares that filty mortal touch and mark something his? Only he has the privilege to touch (Y/N), to hold them, to look at them, to hear their voice and all the things they say in that calm and sweet tone they always use when they're happy... Just how dare they attempt to take all of this away from him? The executioner.
The monster tears the tape off (Y/N)'s wrists and ankles before putting them down, his movements a bit rough due his agitation yet he did his best to keep it under control.
He then rises to his full height, sword in hand, and slowly walks towards the group. The closer he got, the more desperate the man acted, pulling their legs out of the sharp wire-mess just for it to tangle around their limb even tighter.
The beast's first target was the youngest one, the one who had the guts to hold (Y/N) by their hair and threaten them, Pyra really didn't like that one.
The male has no time to even inhale to start begging, as the monster simply cuts him in half with his sword. (Y/N) of course didn't want to see the gore that is about to happen, so they carefuly and quietly leave the room through the hole their beast of a man made durning his enrance. The last thing they've seen before leaving was Pyra practically tearing one of the man up apart like paper, going specially slow to inflict even more pain.
(Y/N) is unsure how long it took Pyra to finish them, they simply remained sitted on the floor with their legs pressed against their chest and covering their ears to silence the screams and the wet gory sounds of muscles and bones breaking. They let out a yelp when their body is suddenly pulled up by a pair of large arms and is pressed agains a broad torso. Pyra held (Y/N) in this posessive embrace for quite a while, the mildes movement from them would make the beast growl and press them even closer.
(Y/N) however, still attempted to soothe their lover by gently nuzzling agains his chest and rub it with their hand.
—"I am so sorry..."— you apologize, though you both knew it wasn't really your fault. —"I was just hanging out in that room we've been before, and... And these people entered there while running away from another beast, and- "—
They couldn't finish the explanation since Pyra suddenly shoved their face further into his chest, muffing the rest of their little rant. The action, which embarassed (Y/N) a bit, also made them understand that their lover doesn't need any excuses or explanations, he's content to have them back and unharmed. They sigh softly and eventually relax in his grasp and going practically rag doll, in response and after some time, Pyra's body also relaxed a bit, yet his grip on (Y/N) remained strong and firm like iron, refusing to let go.
—"Pyra."— you manage to move yout head just enough to say it.
A low grumble resonated from his helmet and chest, though it didn't sound hostile, more like his version of 'hhmm?'.
—"I love you, thank you for being around."— you say honestly, as you move just enough to reach his neck area and kiss the little skin exposed between his clothes and helmet.
The little sweet gesture was answered with a low purr as Pyra's large hands roam around their body for a bit, caressing and feeling each curve through their clothes. The touches weren't suggestive surprisingly, which meant that this affection was genuine and not the product of his monstrous lust towards them.
They both stay like this for a while longer, (Y/N) saying and whispering things in a soft tone that Pyra absolutely adored to hear, and he kept holding them against himself, pawing their body time to time just to feel them more. Their warmth, their pulse, their breathing...
To feel them.
To feel them being all H̸̫̥͙̮͍̮͋͑Ḯ̴͓̦̻͈̜͍̇̃͋͠S̴͖̘̍̓̉̑.
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feyascorner · 3 months
Text
6 | The Fangs Between Us
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summary. You remember how the sunlight glistened against his skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.
It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.
With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press the sharp end against the tip of your finger.
“What are you doing?”
“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”
warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard
pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader
parts. TFBU masterlist
a/n. 6.4k words,,,tav is better than me i would've thrown hands like twelve years ago,,,I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I WROTE THIS IN LIKE TWO DAYS???? also thank you for all your comments they really motivate me to write!! so have this monster of a chapter early as thanks!!
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"You'll kill them, Astarion," you mumble. "They might not have had the power to help you, but they're still your siblings. I don't want them to die hating you."
"They're not my siblings--not really. I don't care what they think of me. Hells, they could haunt me even in the afterlife, as annoying as that would be, but they're no innocents either. They've brought in as many souls as I have," he responds, his jaw visibly clenching at the thought. "I don't care if all seven thousand of them die hating me as long as you're here."
And while you feel flattered, you can't disregard the worry driving a hole through your conscience. Ever perceptive, he lifts a hand to brush stray strands of hair out of your face, his fingertips tracing your jaw. His voice is but a hushed whisper.
"You understand, don't you, my love? It would set me free--after two hundred years of forcing myself through hell--I can finally free myself from Cazador," his tone sours at just the mention of his master's name, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, drawing your attention back to him.
"It is what you want for me, no? For me to be happy?"
It is what you want. Just not like this.
Music was your way of releasing the mountain of feelings you kept locked away in your chest, waiting for the right person to recognize them for what they are. You’d hoped someone would understand the meaning behind your lyrics without you telling them outright, and they’d know what it truly meant to you. And for a while, you’d believed Astarion would be the key to this safe.
You couldn’t have been more wrong.
“While I usually entertain your certainly out-of-the-box plans, this is bordering on just foolish, I’m afraid,” Gale sighs, eyes tracing you as you pace around the house, stuffing every possible weapon and healing potion into a brown sack. Despite his insistence, you ignore him, testing the blade of a knife against the edge of the table. It’s not entirely dull, nor is it sharper than the dagger in your drawer, but it’ll have to do. “Simply charging into the tavern won’t do much good if you’ll be overwhelmed in number anyway.”
“I know what I’m doing, Gale,” you hiss, snatching an Alchemist’s Fire and shoving it a tad too hard into your bag. He tenses. “If they want to talk to me so badly, then I’m not waiting around for them to attack another one of my friends—I’ll go to them.”
“Yes, your determination is certainly praise-worthy, but can we please just sit down and think this through before running into a battlefield with a few knives? This is basically a suicide mission.”
“The wizard is right, even if it’s hard to believe,” Lae’zel announces from the corner of the room, wiping a cloth on her sword. “When I arrived, they’d already fled. They could be anywhere by now, and they’ve had more than enough time to plan another ambush if we were to charge now. We must be smart about this. I am a warrior, but I am no fool.”
“I’ll go by myself,” you say, a sense of finality in your voice. “They already showed what they’d do if someone they didn’t want to talk to approached them. I’ll just talk to them.”
Gale stares with lidded eyes. “So why are you packing so many explosives, exactly?”
“...Precaution?”
Silence befalls the room, and you take it as a sign to finish your preparations. All you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the rain falling against the windows of the home. The lot of you had somehow managed to stabilize Shadowheart by the time Lae’zel returned, and while she’d been conscious earlier, you insisted she rest before she consumed herself with the investigation again. You didn’t miss the way she limped back to her room with little to protest against you.
“Take the spawn with you.”
Two jaws drop at the words, the only one remaining fixed belonging to Lae’zel.
“The kainyank is living here to help. Not cause more problems for us. And so far, he’s only done one of the two things, and I’m dangerously close to turning to my blade if he doesn’t choose otherwise,” she says. “The spawn are searching for him, too. If blood breaks out, you must use him to flee safely.”
Gale blinks. “As in…use him as a body shield?”
“What else is he good for?”
While the wizard seems positively appalled, you can see the contemplation flicker in his eyes before he shakes his head. He's always been more considerate than the rest of you. “No, Tav would never agree to such a-”
“Okay.”
They both whip their heads toward you, and you avoid their piercing gazes, staring down at the dull blade in your hand. “It might help, too, if we find out why they want him. There are nearly 3000 spawns in the city—we can’t kill all of them, at least not immediately. It’d be best if we convinced them to leave, and the best way of doing that is to understand what they want in the first place.”
Lae’zel narrows her eyes. “Then you must swear it. Swear that if Astarion were to face risks, you will leave him behind. If he were to turn on you, you slice through his throat without a second of hesitation. He is there to aid you–nothing else.”
“I will,” the words feel hot on your tongue.
And so, you soon find yourself standing in front of his door, hand reaching for the door handle. There’s a slight pause right as you touch the cool metal, but you bite your tongue and shove it open, praying he’s still not as ravenous as he was a few hours ago. And much to your surprise, he appears wholly composed.
He lowers his book to his lap, eyes training themselves on you as they dart from your bag and then back to your face. The window’s wide open, bathing him in the moonlight, with dark curtains tied to the wall to keep them from obscuring his view of the city. He raises a brow. “What could you possibly want from me at two in the morning? Come here for a cuddle?”
You’re scowling again.
“I need you-”
“I’m flattered, but I fear you may stab a butter knife into my eye, so I’ll have to decline.”
“Not like that.” Your frown creases deeper at his smug grin. “We’re going to the Blushing Mermaid to find the spawn.”
“Just us?”
“They want to see us.”
“And if I refuse?”
The answer is almost immediate, cutting through the atmosphere like a knife on bread. “I hear the bloody bedrolls in the Duke’s dungeon are very comfortable.”
He drops his smile at this, and a tiny spark of pride puffs your chest. He seems to weigh his choices before snapping his book shut and standing from the bed, snatching a comb from his bedside table before pacing up to you, pocketing it behind him.
"A comb?"
He shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I doubt you’ll be giving me a weapon of any sort, so I must make do.”
You don’t correct him.
As the two of you make your way downstairs, you hear your other companions speaking.
“I didn’t expect you of all people to defend Astarion,” Gale says in disbelief, still comprehensive as Lae’zel poorly cuts up slices of an apple.
“I am doing no such thing, istik,” she mutters. “I am giving him a choice. Either to pick up his dead weight and prove his life is worth more than the dirt on my shoes or die at my hand.”
The walk to the Blushing Mermaid is painfully awkward. To you, anyway, because he seems positively unbothered the entire time. Seeing him leisurely follow behind you is irritating—and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit.
By the time you survey the area around the tavern, you’ve discerned they must be inside, considering there are no ambushes awaiting your arrival. While it’s a relief, it also increases the anxiety of what lies inside the tavern itself, and you confirm your knives are at your disposal if it were ever to come to that. You sincerely hope it doesn’t. Astarion sighs dramatically for the umpteenth time as you approach the front doors, and you finally snap to look at him with a glare.
“Will you stop breathing so damn loud?”
The change in your attitude toward him is apparent, but he doesn't seem to care. If anything, he seems more pleased with you than he was before every time you shoot him an annoyed glance or something along those lines. He responds with lazy answers, but it's better than the bitter ones he gave you before.
You're not terribly surprised, though. He's always loved pissing people off for his own entertainment, and it would be an understatement to say that he's been somewhat successful with you.
“I’m not breathing, my dear. I don’t need to, remember?”
“Then what is your problem?” you hiss between your teeth. “Are you trying to wake up the entire city with your insistent groaning?”
“Must we do this tonight, of all days? Couldn’t this wait till tomorrow?”
“No!” you say in exasperation. “That gives them too much time to heal and recover from Shadowheart and Gale. It has to be tonight, just in case they do decide to fight—then we’ll have an easier time because, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s just us two!”
He sighs again, and you swear you might pluck a strand of his hair for good measure. And just as you shove past him and reach for the door, he clears his throat again. Loudly.
“For God’s sake, what?” you nearly yell.
He smiles at you, pointing at the front door. “Well, if we’re looking to avoid an ambush, perhaps we should find another way in than the main entrance. Unless my prior knowledge as a rogue proceeds me.”
You blink. You recognize the validity of his statement and feel your face flare, and you immediately march past him again—the other way this time—and search for the nearest wall you can climb up to the roof. You hear him snicker, but you do your best to ignore it. 
Somehow, you manage to climb in through the window, admittedly a lot louder than him, but you don’t think it’s fair to compare yourself to him when he has footsteps lighter than a child’s. Hidden behind one of the tables, you peer into the rest of the tavern, which is completely empty save for the bottles of alcohol scattered everywhere. You turn to signal to him that the coast is clear, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
Immediately, your face drains of color.
“Right here, darling.”
He drops down from seemingly thin air, and you gasp, nearly letting out a shriek if it weren’t for your hand covering your mouth. He grins at that.
Bastard.
“There’s nobody in the entire building–at least, not visible to the eye,” he confirms, glancing around the room.
“How do you know that?”
He points at the ceiling, and your eyes follow it. “Someone decided to build such useful beams on the roof. You can see the entire place from up there. Care to take a look?”
While you would have thanked him if he had been any other person, you only march straight by him. “Don’t do anything without telling me first.”
“No ‘thanks, Astarion’?” He quirks a brow but huffs when you ignore him. “Very well then, my liege. No need to acknowledge a humble servant such as I. But I shall let you know when I’m about to take any questionable decision.”
You’re starting to wonder if his presence is worth the headache it gives you.
Pacing around the tavern, it seems all too normal. No blood splatters against the wall, no broken chairs—hells, even the booze cups look clean, which is a rarity for the Blushing Mermaid. You check each room, inspecting down to the last cups in case there are traces of blood in them, but to no avail.
It’s like there was never anyone here.
“You look like you’re having trouble, my dear,” Astarion clicks his tongue mockingly, leaning back in one of the more luxurious chairs he’s decided is his own.
“Considering the only company I decided to bring along is lounging around like a bum, I’m not surprised,” you say back, now searching the smallest cracks in the walls for some sort of secret passage. It’s strange. Even though your companions had spoken of the bodies they encountered when facing the spawn, there’s not a single speck of blood in sight. Neither is there anything outside but the whistle of the wind.
“This particular wall must be quite fascinating.”
You fight the need to groan and whip around to snap at him, but he’s suddenly just a foot away from you, staring at the spot you’d been squinting at. Gods, you hate how quiet he is when he walks.
“As wonderful as it is getting a fresh breath of air,” he feigns disappointment with a half-hearted sigh, turning to walk toward the entrance. “I believe we’ve done what we can. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d love to return to my book–”
The wooden floor underneath him creaks. It sounds hollow.
As if there’s something underneath.
“The basement,” you blink, eyes wide. “The hag’s lair.”
He stares at you as if you’ve taken too many mushrooms. “It was sealed up after we rid of that dreadful woman. Good riddance, too, I mean, I’m not particularly fond of children, but eating them, even I wouldn’t be able–”
You rush toward the very corner of the tavern, sensing that he’s following you regardless of his obvious distaste toward your decision. There, you push against a table perched on top of the basement latch and test its locks.
It’s open.
“Heavens, it reeks here. How didn’t I smell it before?”
“Of what?” You sniff the air. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Blood, my dear. Fairly recent, too, if my judgment hasn’t gotten rusty in the time I’ve spent cooped up in that room,” he pauses. “And I haven’t gotten rusty, to be clear.”
“Right,” you retort, reaching down to pull the latch open. You don’t see him do the same, and you glance at him quizzically.
“Gods no,” he says, when he realizes why you’re staring. “I’m doing no such thing that ruins these nails.”
You sigh. Loudly.
The latch opens relatively easily, but you make an effort not to simply swing it open in fear the occupants inside might be warned of your arrival. You prop the trap door open against a chair and begin your descent down the stairs, remaining as silent as possible.
The first thing you can notice is that he’d been right.
The stench of blood burns in your nose, and you immediately cover it with your sleeve to avoid inhaling anymore. You’ve smelt enough of your companion’s blood today, and you’d rather not continue the streak with the blood of complete strangers. Astarion, however, frowns.
“Such a waste,” he mumbles.
When you turn to where he’s looking, there’s a pile of bodies—poor victims, no doubt—lying over a puddle of their collective blood mixing with one another. It almost feels inhumane to leave them that way, just hours after their death, as if they’re cattle to be used.
Though, in this case, they are cattle.
“Are you sure it’s them?”
“I’m telling you it is!”
“Where’s their lyre, then?”
“How would I know that?”
You locate the source of the whispers instantly, reaching for one of your daggers as your eyes bore into the corners of the lair that are obscured from your view. Astarion steps forward before you can figure out a plan to approach them, arrogance exuding from his very body as he holds nothing but the comb tucked in his back pocket. “We can hear you, you fools. Come out before I lose my patience.”
“What are you doing?” you hiss.
“They’re only a few spawns, my dear. Nothing like Cazador—no need to be so cautious.”
You open your mouth to protest, but a woman emerges from the shadows, her eyes trained on your own as she marvels at your mere presence. You realize she’s not alone as multiple vampires begin to emerge from different corners of the room, all a safe distance away but not enough to ease the nerves jittering in your stomach. She steps toward you. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”
Another spawn steps beside her, and you immediately notice how ravenous he seems, eyes almost glistening with hunger as they bore straight into you. The woman puts a hand on his neck, seemingly soothing him, before he slumps his shoulders again, but the pure violence swirling in his head doesn’t seem to vanish. She then looks to Astarion, and the expression on her face morphs into something more akin to dread. “And you, brother.”
“Dalyria.” Astarion only stares with lidded eyes, visibly unfazed.
You instinctively scan the entire lair, searching for any differences you can spot since the last time you were here. The only glaring thing besides the bodies piled in the corner is the study desk on the other side of the room, scattered with different potions and concoctions. Behind the desk is an entire wall plastered with diagrams—most of which study the anatomy and functionality of what you can only determine to be a vampire judging from the fangs. There are also beds everywhere—though they look like they could collapse any second—and the room almost looks like a hospital.
The atmosphere between the siblings is so uncomfortable you’d think they’ll start attacking one another any second.
“Is Leon here?” you finally cut through, lowering your hand away from your blade. “I need to speak with him—technically, all of you.”
“How curious. We were hoping to speak with you as well,” she says, motioning all the other spawn to stand down. It does little to ease you. “By all means, feel free to go first.”
You take the opportunity, too exhausted, to demonstrate polite etiquette. “The spawn are causing too much trouble in the city, Dalyria. They’re killing too many people, and it’s getting noticed by more than enough people. At this rate, you’ll lose some of your own if the Fist figure out how you guys are hiding throughout the city.”
“...Yes, I’m aware.”
The resignation in her voice makes your throat bob, but you continue anyway. “I’m saying we need to get you guys somewhere more stable. Whether it be the Underdark or elsewhere, we can’t have you staying here.”
“I see,” she says slowly. “I appreciate you trying to talk this out with us, but I’m afraid I cannot grant your request.”
Your shoulders tense, and you can see Astarion shift beside you. “You don’t understand, sister. There’s going to be an outright war at this rate-”
“Baldur’s Gate is our home as well, Astarion. You, of all people, should know this,” she demands. “We have a right to remain here, and if the Fist insists on forcing us out, we have no choice but to retaliate.”
“But you’re killing the city off!” you gawk in disbelief, unable to believe what you’re hearing.
“We’re surviving,” she corrects, the corners of her lips turning downward. “Surely you can’t hate us for that.”
“Then…” you blink at her, positively appalled at her words. “Why the hells did you need to speak with me? What was worth putting my companion through hell?”
“...There is a way—for both parties to benefit.” She looks down at her hands, then back up at you. “I didn’t expect the both of you to come together. Our informants were correct when they claimed to see Astarion in your possession. In all honesty, we technically only needed one of you, but this makes things a lot quicker.”
Confused but desperately wanting an answer, you urge her to continue. Only you can see the way Astarion’s hand slips toward his pocket, where his comb lies.
“We were going to ask you to bring him to us, you see. But it appears you’ve already done the hard part.”
The dreaded intuition in the back of your mind tells you something is wrong. Very, very wrong.
“Me? What do you need me for?” he scowls.
She disregards him and continues speaking to you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “If you turn him over to us, you’ll never have to see him again. That is what you want, yes?”
Both you and the pale elf freeze.
“I watched as my brother nearly killed you the day of the ritual,” she continues. “I understand how you feel being betrayed by someone you thought shared your pain. And I believe this is a way to relieve you of that pain—and finally move onto a new stage of your life.”
She acts as if Astarion is the only thing holding you from moving on from the past few months of your life. And if she’d said so a week ago, you would have nothing to defend yourself with. But you’ve cut the few strings left that tie yourself to him. You remind yourself that you no longer care for him, regardless of the slight squeeze in your chest. You’ve already sworn to force yourself to disregard him, and you want to say all these things to her, but nothing comes out. So, instead, you keep your mouth sealed.
Astarion scoffs from beside you.
“For God’s sake, please tell me you’re not actually considering this. Let’s just force the madwoman out and go,” his voice attempts to stay firm, but it’s high-pitched at the end. He’s panicking.
You don’t respond to him, and he stiffens. “...My main concern is the city. If you think you can use my personal matters to convince me to just let you keep killing all these people–”
“That matter will resolve itself in its own time. We’ll return to the Underdark—or wherever it is you wish, and you won’t have to spend your nights hunting us down anymore.”
With a dry throat, you fixate your gaze on her face, desperately trying to discern any hint of a crack in her mask. Instead, you find nothing. “Why would you do that? For one spawn?”
“I’m afraid that’s for me and my siblings to know. But I can promise you that no harm will come to you if you take this deal.”
For what seems like the millionth time this month, you have no idea what to do. Lae’zel’s words flood you like a wave crashing onto shore as you remind yourself that Astarion is here not as your ally but as a shield. If things are as Dalyria says, simply turning over the man standing next to you would end this entire ordeal. You could return to your everyday life of repairing the city, learning to heal and grow from the terrors of the illithid invasion. You could learn to let people in again.
You could learn to play music again in hopes of finding the person you dreamed would understand.
Such an enticing, perfect deal. It’s almost too perfect. But you’ve learned not to trust perfection, especially when handed to you by a vampire spawn.
Astarion, who had been observing your expression this whole time, almost seems to read your mind. Or perhaps he’s just feeling selfish, ready to defend himself. “You’ve created a lot of problems for me, dear sister. I’ve gotten accused of your own murders, thanks to your pets.”
The delirious spawn, who’d looked sluggish after Dalyria’s soothing, now bares his teeth at Astarion. Dalyria attempts to calm him again, but it’s no use. The bloodthirst cannot be satiated unless there’s blood spilled on his very hands.
Astarion doesn’t seem to take a hint—or maybe he does but chooses to simply ignore it. “I’ve always known you were strange, Dalyria, but really? Experimenting with your ‘useless procedures’ on fresh spawns? He looks positively possessed, sister. He might just resort to eating you instead.”
“They are not useless, Astarion,” she snaps. “I am a doctor. I’m only curing what needs to be cured.”
“Then tell me why you haven’t managed to cure yourself of our curse? You may be intelligent in medical aspects, but gods above, you are more foolish than Cazador himself if you really think you can cure vampirism.”
“I had nobody to test my ideas on for two centuries, Astarion! Now that I do, surely I can-”
“You’re starving them, Dalyria,” he snaps, tone drastically different from the banter you shared just minutes ago. “And they’ll give into the thirst sooner or later.”
His words are the final straw.
The spawn who’d been standing beside her launches himself toward you. Before you can even register what’s happening, his fangs are at your throat, your neck tilted so it shoots pain up your side. Just as you feel your skin split at the tips of his canines, Astarion rips him away from you so harshly that the spawn flies helplessly into the wall, which crumbles under his weight. Dust flies into your eyes, and you cough, wiping at them until it clears just enough to see Dalyria staring in horror.
“I told you, Dalyria. You are no doctor, not anymore,” Astarion scoffs, eyes narrowed into slits. “And I’m afraid I can’t let you kill my liege here, as I’d much hate to be trapped in a cell somewhere underground.”
You reach the specks of blood drops forming on your neck, horrified by the close encounter you had with death just seconds ago. The culprit of your injury lies unconscious beside the cracked wall, and you wonder just how hard he had to be thrown to be rendered in such a state. You can see the other spawns’ eyes practically glow at the sight of your blood—fresh, unlike the pile of corpses on the other side of the room.
She turns to you, desperation pouring from the wavering of her voice. “Please, don’t make me do this. Don’t make us enemies. All you need to do is give us Astarion. My brother, for heaven's sake!”
You think better of it. Something that obviously pleases Astarion if the way his face relaxes tells you anything.
“May I?” he glances at you.
Surely, there are ways–more civilized ways–-than drawing your blade, but the ferocious growling from the rest of the spawn tells you otherwise. You need to find out why she needs Astarion so badly, and clearly, she’s not willing to tell you unless it’s through pure force. You despise the idea as much as you despise the predicament you’re in, but you refuse to be attacked and deliver nothing back.  Just as you nod to his question, another spawn lunges, unable to resist the red staining your neck.
But it’s smart this time, choosing to eliminate any threats before turning to the full course. In this case, the only thing between you and the vampires is another vampire.
“Brother!” Dalyria shouts, horrified.
You don't bother calling his name, only barely manage to tackle Astarion out of the way before the spawn’s claw sinks into the very ground he was standing on just seconds ago.
As embarrassing as it is to practically crash on top of him, both of you wince because it’s more painful than anything. You force yourself up with your arms, and it’s then that you see even more spawn crawling from whatever shadows they hid in, and you realize you are terribly and most definitely outnumbered. By a lot. 
“Dalyria, if you’re truly a doctor, do something! Stop them, godsdammit!” you shriek in her direction.
“They’re not—they were doing so well!...” she gasps before she reaches for a tattered journal and desperately files through its pages in a frenzy. “They were nearly docile before. I don’t know why–”
You feel Astarion’s hands slip out of the sack you carry on your back, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him opening it. He’s still lying flat on the ground, and you look down at him, puzzled before he laughs bitterly.
“I’ll be borrowing this for a few minutes, darling.”
You barely dodge another spawn that comes flying at you, rolling off of him and practically slamming into the wall. And before you can crawl away, your knife—in Astarion’s hand—stabs through the spawn’s left eye through the back of their head, specks of their blood splattering against your cheek.
You want to throw up.
“No, don’t harm them! Please, just let us go!” Dalyria pleads, but you’re finished being patient with her. She clearly has no way of calming the spawn, and you’re tired of being thrown around like a ragdoll in the mess that is the lair.
You yank out the Alchemist’s Fire and chuck it at the nearest cluster of spawn—around 2 or 3—and flinch as the vial collides and explodes into flames right before your eyes, blowing your hair out of your face in a gust of smoke and wind. You swear you hear Astarion cackle in utter glee at the destruction, but you choose not to dwell on it, too busy figuring out how else you could get out of here alive.
“You’re ruining the patients!” Dalyria screams, and you almost regret not throwing the vial at her instead.
“Your spawn are the ones attacking us!”
Suddenly, her face goes impossibly pale, and you hear a hiss of pain from a few feet away. Astarion winces as one of the spawn claws at his chest leaves behind a reasonably deep wound following the path of their sharp nails. Your knife is kicked away from him, and you hear Dalyria again just as he reaches for the comb instead. “Brother, be careful!”
You’re not sure if she wants you and Astarion dead or not, but it’s seriously giving you backlash at this point.
He stabs the comb into the spawn’s neck and kicks him away, and you take the opportunity to send the knife he dropped through the air.
By some miracle, it pierces straight through the spawn’s arm. Astarion lets out a breathy laugh from the floor, attention glued to your handiwork. “Ha! And to think that could have been me!”
And while you want to admire your aim yourself, there’s no time. Dalyria’s footsteps rush up the stairs, out of the basement, and you realize you need to follow moments after Astarion, who’s already fleeing up the steps, cursing under his breath. “That demented wench!”
You stand to follow after him, but the remaining spawns are already blocking your way. There are only two more, but you brace yourself for the worst, reaching for whatever remaining weapons you have left in your sack. The smoke and debris feel suffocating in your lungs, but you have no choice but to push through, praying to whatever God you can remember at the moment that this be the last time you have to fight this many vampire spawn. Or any, for that matter.
You wish you had left your fighting days behind you when you defeated the elder brain, but you suppose even that was too much to ask for.
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You arrive just in time to see the sunrise.
Lying against a wall is Astarion, who you find just before the sunlight hits the part of the ground he’s on. He’s clutching his shoulder, which drips with his own blood, and showing no signs of the quick vampire regeneration. You stare down at him, face stoic as you wait for him to say something.
Judging from his condition, you assume Dalyria got away.
“Leaving me to die here would be unwise,” he scoffs. “Though it’d be rather easy to let me burn to death in the sun, I must remind you that I much rather prefer decapitation if it’s all the same to you.” 
“I’ll consider it,” you reply curtly. "Can't promise anything, though."
He leans his head back, amused. The sunlight is just a few feet away now, and you wonder how long it's been since he's been outside to watch the sunrise. “You’ve always had a cruel streak in you. I just had to lure it out, sometimes, but when it did come out—Gods, you should have seen it yourself.”
“You’re delirious,” you remind him, observing just how much blood he’s losing. You remind yourself of your resentment when worry probes a small part of your heart. One that you hope dies soon. “Why aren’t you healing?”
“I haven’t been exactly feeding well, unfortunately. And days old boar’s blood can only sustain me so long, darling,” he lulls his head forehead, sneering to himself. “Now that I think about it, dying by sunlight sounds rather poetic, don’t you think? Perhaps you can make a song about my glorious death.”
He’s definitely unhinged from blood loss.
You sigh, tossing his arm over your shoulder as you deem the sunlight a bit too close now. It’s a slow process with your own body’s soreness, but you manage to drag him to a more shaded area, propping him against the wall there so that you can rummage through your sack for a healing potion. You stop when his hand latches onto your arm.
“What?” you frown.
“It won’t help. I need blood, my dear.”
“There’s none for you here.”
“The bodies in the basement,” he bites back a groan, more blood gushing out of his shoulder. “I can make use of them--give their deaths a sense of purpose."
The displeasure on your face must be apparent because he laughs.
You pause, lowering the sack onto the ground. While you’re illuminated by the sunlight now, he remains in the shadow of the building, only able to see the sun with how it reflects off of your skin. And you find that he’s no longer looking at you but looking past you into the glowing orb you call the sun. You remember how its light glistened against his own skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.
It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.
With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press its tip against the tip of your finger.
“What are you doing?”
“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”
His eyes widen, and the temptation is more than evident with how his mouth falls open as if he tastes your blood from a few inches away. But as fast as it had come, he tears his eyes away. “I’m not taking your blood.”
“Stop with your prideful act, Astarion. You’re going to bleed out.”
“I wouldn’t die, exactly. I would just remain unconscious until I can properly heal myself.”
You spare him a long, hard stare. He refuses to look at you, biting the inside of his cheek to ignore the scent of your blood. And it's painfully clear he's failing.
You have no idea why he's so insistent on avoiding your blood, but you refuse to spend your own time pondering it.
“Fine then.”
He watches in utter loss as you lick the blood off of your finger, shrugging. “Bleed out for all I care.”
You turn to stand, but his hand latches on your arm once more. You’re not sure if you’re imagining how warm he feels, but you think you must be. He's always been terribly cold.
“Do you hate me now?” he asks again, this time staring up at you through his lashes. “Have I finally run through your patience?”
The question remains the same as he asked you a week ago, but it feels different now. This time, you know your answer, and it feels so, so relieving. You just wish you could understand his own feelings, but his expression is so superficial you don’t even attempt it.
“Yes,” you reply blankly. “I hate you.”
He takes a moment to process your words. You have to admit it’s satisfying to say it to his face, even if your hatred for him is new. But perhaps because it’s new is why you feel it so strongly, and you silently thank it for how confident you sound saying the words. Even if they taste bitter. You think he might have some quip to respond with, but he only smiles, and as usual, it doesn’t reach his eyes.
You never want to see it again.
Without another word, he pulls you down to him, and you nearly topple over before stabilizing yourself with either of your knees on either side of his legs. He breathes against your neck, and you think he might drink from you until you feel his fingers brush against your nape. Immediately, your body freezes like a deer in headlights, flinching at his touch as your mind involuntarily forces the last memories you have of his hands on your neck.
And ever so perceptive, he notices how you recoil from his touch.
You hate your body for reacting the way it does out of fear. Not the disgust or the anger, but something much more pathetic, and you want to go back on your own actions to stop yourself from appearing so weak to him. You think he might tease you--taunt you, even, but he stops, slowly pulling away and lowering his head from the crook between your shoulder and head.
You’re unable to see his face, but his movements seem more sluggish.
Instead of going for your neck, he lifts your wrist, brushing his lips against it before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.
Despite the initial sting, it’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to over time. With him, it had always felt so intimate. It’s why you can’t help but feel heat bloom across your cheeks before you remind yourself you no longer care for him. Only when you think he’s drinking a bit too long do you try to pull away, but his arm loops around your waist, bringing you even closer as the amount of blood he’s taking increases with how deep his fangs are.
You feel so cold, yet heat burns through your very blood. It makes your head dizzy, and you take it as a sign that he’s had enough.
You only manage to speak a few seconds later, breathless. “Astarion.”
He pulls away, seemingly out of breath himself as he releases his hold on the rest of your body. He runs his tongue over the access, staining the side of his mouth. He uses his finger to make sure the rest is off his face. “I know.”
He rarely feeds so messily, so you discern he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been drinking well. Knowing he wasn’t deceiving you brings little relief, but it’s still a welcome feeling. Rubbing at your wrist and the two puncture wounds now residing there, you stand up and slug your sack over your shoulder. He watches you the entire time, and you hate that you can never seem to read his expressions—only one, and that’s whenever he claims to despise your very existence.
His shoulder has already stopped bleeding.
“Why didn’t you drink from those people at Sharess’ Caress?” you finally say.
“Their blood…” he pauses, trailing off, and suddenly he seems to change his mind. “...I've grown tired of it.”
“Blood is just blood, isn’t it?”
He stares at you for a moment, then laughs.
“I wish it was, darling.”
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steventhusiast · 2 months
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STWG prompt 11/2/24
prompt: date night
pairing/character(s): steddie, hellfire club
it's valentine's week!! hopefully i can do all the prompts this week :)
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"And with that, the barkeep..."
Eddie pauses in his storytelling to glance away from the notes hidden by his DM screen and over to the clock. His eyes widen at the time. Is it really 7:53pm already? Shit.
"With that, this session is over. You'll find out what happens with the angry barkeep next week!"
Everyone in the room groans at that, a chorus of 'seriously's and 'what the hell, Eddie's starting up even as he hurries to put his notes back into his DnD folder, and dumps all his dice into his bag haphazardly.
No one seems to notice for a moment, too busy complaining about the cliffhanger, when Gareth suddenly pauses and examines Eddie with a curious look on his face.
"Hold on, you promised we'd finally find out more about the temple this session? Where was that?"
Eddie huffs in response, and doesn't even look up as he starts folding his DM screen.
"Yeah, that was before you guys decided to talk to every single person at the tavern for an hour and start a barfight."
"That's never stopped you from getting us to where you want us before!"
"Yeah!" "Exactly!" "Please, Eddie. What happens with the barkeep."
Eddie waves a hand at everyone, and looks up to see the younger kids complaining quietly to each other, and his closer friends still seeming to inspect him carefully. He supposes they're valid in that; he's not one to back down from his plans, and has never cut off a session like this before.
But. Today is special. Today he has...
"Oh my god, you have a date." Jeff suddenly says, his eyes a little wider than usual as he grabs at Freak's arm.
"What?! Who the fuck would he have a date with?" Freak scoffs.
Eddie ignores the blush fighting to appear on his cheeks and starts collecting all of his figurines scattered around the table.
"Eddie has a date?" Mike suddenly joins in from across the room.
And, great, now the baby sheep are involved too.
"It is none of you guys's business what plans I have after this session. But, really, I gotta go." Eddie tries, but now Dustin's attention is on him as well.
"That's so funny! Steve has a date tonight too- that's why we had to ask Nancy to pick us up tonight." He says with a laugh.
Eddie laughs along with him, a little strained now because Gareth, Jeff and Freak are now squinting at him.
"Yes.. What a coincidence." Gareth says slowly as Eddie continues to pointedly avoid eye contact.
"Anyway! Got a lot to, uh. Do. Running a bit behind schedule actually, so if you could.." Eddie says as he finally finishes shoving everything back into his backpack and throws it over his shoulder, gesturing toward the drama room's door.
The younger kids leave without much complaint, but Gareth, Jeff and Freak hang back and walk slowly alongside Eddie.
"So... Steve Harrington?" Jeff asks once the kids are out of earshot, his tone a little disbelieving.
"Don't say it like it's a bad thing!" Freak slaps him on the shoulder disapprovingly as he speaks.
"It's not a bad thing! Just.. unexpected!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Eddie tries.
"Sure, sure. Enjoy your totally not a date night that's totally not with Steve 'the hair' Harrington." As Gareth says that, they've finally reached the doors and Eddie can well and truly escape.
He's going to have to break a few road laws if he wants to get to Steve's on time. It's only their third date, so sue him if he wants to try to make a good impression.
Even if Steve's been his friend for a few months now, and already knows about his horrible time-keeping skills.... It's still worth a try. Anything to woo Steve Harrington.
-
part two
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descendant-of-truth · 10 months
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Ohhh this scene. This one's a doozy
Nine is right to call this out about Sonic, of course. While he's definitely grown since the start of the show, he's never really been able to move past his tunnel vision and tendency to project onto the others.
He never thought to ask Nine what he wanted not because he doesn't care, but because he didn't think he needed to. He inherently assumes that the people he's working with are on the same page as him until told otherwise - in fact, it wasn't too long ago that he was similarly thrown off by Shadow in that very room.
(Love Shadow being used as a sort of "test run" for these kinds of conflicts by the way)
But here's the thing. While it's true that Sonic didn't really think about what Nine wanted and just assumed they were going to stick together no matter what... the same is true of Nine.
Look at how confused Nine looks when Sonic talks about coming back to Green Hill and restoring it:
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Nine didn't ask what Sonic was wanting to do by repairing the Prism because he thought it was obvious that they were going back to the Grim together. I don't think it occurred to him that fixing Green Hill was even an option, or at least not one that he considered in favor of his original plans.
And just like Sonic, it's not that he only cares about himself - he went out of his way to engineer coconuts and (presumably) palm trees because he knew how much Sonic missed them. It was really sweet!
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But, in what's becoming a pattern in this show, he doesn't understand why those trees matter to Sonic. They're not just cool plants, they're a reminder of home. And as Sonic aptly puts it at the start of the show, home is where your friends are.
I love that the conflict here is that both of them were convinced they knew what the other person wanted/would be okay with, because they think it'll naturally be the same thing they want, and then were both completely unprepared to handle a conflict of interest. It feels so natural and makes perfect sense with how they've been written up to this point.
But see, while I think it's pretty clear that Sonic and Nine fell into the exact same communication trap, I think it's going to take longer for Nine to realize his own fault in any of this.
Sonic spent the entire second half of that conversation looking devastated, and he's made it clear throughout the show that he's quick to feel remorse when he realizes he's hurt someone. In all likelihood, he's going to put all of the blame for that argument on himself, decide that Nine was right about everything, and leave it at that.
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Nine, likewise, doesn't strike me as a particularly self-reflective type. He'd probably try to justify not needing Sonic to himself before anything else, and with that in mind, who else is there to make him see the situation with more nuance?
If I had to pick, I'd guess Shadow - our resident "smacking people in the face with their own flaws" extraordinaire.
Why would he bother with any sort of mediating between the two? Well, the funniest reason would be that he finds Sonic's self-pitying and Nine's self-righteousness equally annoying, but I'm inclined to assume any sort of confrontation between him and Nine would be a little more dramatic than that. (He might still use that reasoning as justification though)
Anyway I gotta cut this post short before I go too far into speculation territory or else I'll be here for another hour and this took long enough to write as is, case in point I love me a well-written and believable conflict
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weirdrandomtina · 5 months
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Poppy character development appreciation post!
In Branch's old pod, when Poppy says he can talk to her, she pays full attention, never takes her eyes off him, and when he hesitates she continues to smile patiently. In World Tour, while he's trying to talk to her, she has her back to him and is focusing on watering the flowers, and when he hesitates, she only half pays attention.
When a friendly but random stranger picks up Branch who is clearly not liking to be thrown around, Poppy doesn't laugh about it or go along with it. And instead of saying politely, "hey, excuse me, could you please put him down", she literally snaps at JD, "STOP, PUT HIM DOWN RIGHT NOW". (and of course she refers to Branch as her boyfriend🥰)
"JD is only here because he needs something". When JD confirms that's true, Poppy could've said, "Nah, there's more to it than that", and JD could've said, "Yeah, Floyd's in danger..." and Poppy would've gone "See, told you..." Instead, she gives JD a deadpan look and says flatly, "C'mon, I'm trying here." Again, blunt and not Queen Poppy's usual giddy politeness.
Poppy wants to hear the full story of how she and Viva got separated, whereas before Poppy would've accepted Viva's vague explanation like, "Oh well, we're together now, everything's cupcakes and rainbows!" Now, Poppy recognizes Viva is changing the subject to avoid discussing negative feelings, and thanks to Branch, Poppy now knows that sugarcoating everything is not the way to deal with your problems. Also, Poppy is patient and gentle with Viva - she understands this is a sensitive / painful topic for her sister, and isn't pestering, "C'mon, tell me, tell me, I gotta know!"
In Trolls 1, when Cloud Guy teases Branch who clearly is not amused, Poppy laughs despite the life or death situation they're in. In Trolls 3, when JD teases Branch about wearing a smaller diaper, Poppy doesn't find it funny and doesn't say something like "Oh, come on, Branch, just go with it, have fun!"
When Branch tells Poppy he didn't need his brothers growing up and doesn't need them now, Poppy doesn't object or try to convince him to go back and make it work with them anyway. She just follows him, supporting him in the way he needs: being there for him no matter what. Since things didn't work out with Viva, Poppy realized family is indeed complicated.
When Poppy stops Branch from walking away, she doesn't only say, "I've always been by your side, give me some credit". She says how they've been by each other's sides. She didn't get annoyed that he implied she'll leave him, because she sees now that he's afraid of losing her like he lost his brothers and his grandma. She tells him she's not going anywhere in a sincere tone, not being silly or dismissive.
At Mount Rageous, Branch is the one taking the lead / making the plans while Poppy supports it and follows his lead. She isn't being reckless with Branch blindly following along, and she isn't making light of the situation (like in the first movie she scrapbooks his plan. Also, her 'plan' is to 'rescue everyone and make it home safely', which Branch points out is not a plan. Now she's helping him formulate an actual plan). When trying to get onto the yacht, she asks Branch, "What do we do?" She now is willing to listen to him and respects that he can be a leader, not just her.
Poppy very bluntly points out Velvet/Veneer's bad behaviour. No trying to justify it, no trying to change their minds with kind words and catchy songs, no asking nicely to let Brozone go - she screams that their phonies in front of a massive crowd, and the way she's angrily pacing tells me she wanted to say something worse. A huge change from Movie 1 and Movie 2 Poppy.
The protective-hand-reaching forward thing that Branch has always done to Poppy - she did to him!
BONUS - development from both Branch and Poppy: when she goes on her sister rant and he snaps her out of it, he starts shouting her name then softens, while she realizes what she's doing, snaps out of it, instantly calms down and gets to the point.
Here are some other great Poppy development posts I came across:
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disneyprincemuke · 4 months
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i’m a monster on the hill
alternatively: i’m not as girly girl as the rest of them
in which insecurities suddenly strike up when she sees her boyfriend parading with williams’ star guest for the race weekend
(series masterlist)
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she tilts her head, her eyes roaming the paddocks as she tries to look for the one person that she’s been looking for for the better part of ten minutes. next to her is max, talking about his complaints for the sprint happening tonight, if that’s still what he’s talking about.
“hey, are you even listening to me?” max sighs, lifting his arms up to try and catch her attention.
“yeah, sprints are stupid and a waste of time,” she nods with a small smile, glancing at him briefly before craning her neck again to resume her mission. “you say the same thing every sprint weekend, max.”
max rolls his eyes. “i know, but you should feel the same. it’s not like your team is doing a great job at keeping up with the sprint weekends.”
“that’s seb’s thing to worry about,” she shrugs. she spares the paddocks one last look. “have you seen logan anywhere?”
“not yet, why?” max presses his lips together. he raises an eyebrow at the younger girl.
“i just haven’t seen him at all today,” she says casually, trying to bite back on her rant about missing her boyfriend. max doesn’t know yet, after all. and if he were to find out, she would have no idea what to do. “just curious.”
max hums, tearing his eyes away from her with hesitation. “sure. if i didn’t know better, i would have thought you were jealous.”
“jealous for what?” she scoffs, now her turn to raise her eyebrows in confusion. “what even is that word?”
“cause, you know,” max says, gesturing with her hands hoping that she would magically come to her senses.
“know what?”
"you know," max shrugs again softly. "cause they've got tate mcrae in the williams' garage today."
"do they?" she tilts her head, starting to play with her manicured nails. "i wasn't aware."
"it was all alex and lily could talk about during dinner last night," max shakes his head, feigning annoyance, "i don't see what's so special. it's not like it's kylie jenner."
"dude. it's tate mcrae," she sighs. "she's like, so pretty. and her songs are so good. you should ask lando about her."
"or we could just ask logan!" max beams, pointing ahead of them. "look, they're together! oh, they look kinda cute together, don't they?"
she follows the direction that max is pointing towards. in fact, her boyfriend is walking with the tate mcrae in the paddocks, strangely close to one another as they try to avoid bumping into others.
she presses her lips together, feeling a weird bubbling in her gut that she can't seem to ignore. "take me back to my garage." she turns on her heel and starts walking back towards where they came from. "i'm not hungry anymore."
max throws his head back, but follows her anyway. "what? i was so looking forward to the cup of coffee you were going to get me!"
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“babe, what are you wearing?” logan tilts his head, arms stretched out as he approaches the younger girl. “i thought you said you were wearing that one dress you’ve been wanting to try on?”
she shakes her head, pressing her lips together. she waves off his statement. “i didn’t feel like wearing it.”
“aw, but we were supposed to match for dinner with oscar and lily,” logan frowns, wrapping his arms around her as a greeting.
she looks up at him with sad eyes and slumped shoulders. instead of responding, she just sighs and shakes her head as she leads him down the hallway of their hotel for the weekend.
"is something wrong?" logan frowns, chasing after her towards the elevator. "did something happen before the sprint?"
"no, it's nothing," she sighs, fixing the oversized tee that she decided to put on today. fair enough to logan's argument, they had agreed the night before that they would match their d&g outfits for dinner tonight.
but all of those plans were thrown out the window when she saw logan and tate walking down the paddocks earlier today. while she's typically secure with herself and their relationship, max was not wrong when he said that they looked kinda good next to one another.
the image of her boyfriend with the prettiest girl she's ever seen has haunted her since she got into the car for the sprint qualifiers. it's one of the only reasons she had finished in p4 earlier because she had this anger in her chest that she couldn't ignore.
she punches the button carved into the wall, making logan lift his arms to scratch his head. she looks up at the display, frowning when the elevator is still only on the third floor on its way up to them. she reaches out to punch the button again, but not before logan can catch her wrist in his hand.
"why are you punching a literal inanimate object?" logan questions, tilting his head to meet her eyes. "did something happen?"
her eyes snap to look into his. "no."
"you're saying that, but i totally don't believe you," logan frowns, shaking his head. "what's wrong, baby?"
"nothing."
"then i don't wanna go for dinner," logan mutters, turning on his heel to walk away from her. "you can explain to oscar and lily why i'm not there."
"what? logan," she turns around, throwing her arms in the air. "where are you going?"
"to your hotel room. you're not being very nice."
"i'm so nice!"
"you just punched the elevator button!"
she balls her fists and clenches her jaw. "fine, i'll tell you." she chews on the inside of her cheek as logan stops halfway down the hallway from her and turns to her. "but you have to promise you won't laugh."
"why would i laugh at you?" logan sighs. "tell me what's bothering you, please?"
"i was kinda jealous," she mutters, incomprehensible as she looks up to count the number of lights that illuminate her hotel hallway. "you had tate in your garage and then max said you guys kinda look cute together and he was kinda right now that i think about it. she is very pretty and hot and girly girl and i could literally beat you in an arm wrestling fight."
"whoa, slow down." logan holds his arms up as he approaches her with caution. "i didn't get any of that. you were mumbling under your breath the entire time."
she sighs and drops her head. "i said i was jealous."
"of what?"
"max said you looked cute with tate mcrae," she sighs, throwing her arms in the air. her cheeks heat up as she turns around to catch the elevator now nearing their lift lobby. "he was kinda right, she's very hot. i'm not."
"tate mcrae?" logan repeats, jogging a circle around her to block her from the elevator. "you were jealous of tate because of what max said? but i love you."
she sighs shakily. "okay, but she's very feminine and talented. what can i do? i can only drive a stupid car - anyone can do that."
"i can't even drive a stupid car," logan states, staring at her blankly. "and what do you mean? you always beat me at padel when we play."
"that's cause i cry when you don't let me win!" she rants, throwing her arms in the air. she throws her head back and turns towards the hallway. "now i don't even feel like going to dinner."
"you know i only say that because i can't admit that my girlfriend is also better than me at padel, right? you beat me in an f1 car and padel. my ego can't take that," logan states, chasing after her. he grabs her wrist to yank her into his chest. "and you're feminine. what are you talking about?"
"like i could literally beat you at padel in my sleep and wrestle you into submission!" she whines, making an attempt to walk away from him again. "i'm not your type, logan! i've got broad shoulders and as much muscles as the next driver on the track. you used to kiss the floor that supermodels used to walk on!"
"yeah, when i was 18," logan laughs, jogging to overtake her. he grabs her shoulders and shakes her gently. "i'm 22. i'm so in love with you. i like it when you wrestle me into submission - it's hot."
"can you please be serious?"
"i am!" he rests his hands on his hips. "tell you what - let's skip dinner. let's go back into your room, order some wine and play some mario kart. then maybe i'll show you how much i love you."
she scowls. "you want to ditch oscar and lily? do you have any idea how much he'll tear into you if we do that?"
"fine, so we make dinner quick and then we come back so i can do all that i just said," logan shrugs. he takes her hand and squeezes it. "i love you. you know that, right?"
she pouts, slumping her shoulders again. "i know. i love you too. but you know what i mean, right? please tell me you get it, lo."
"i do," he sighs, cupping her cheeks. she tiptoes when he pulls her up slightly, pressing a loving kiss on her lips. "but i'm in love with you. my type is you."
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logansargeant
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liked by lilyzneimer, sebastianvettel and 42,976 others
logansargeant someone tell my best friend she’s pretty before she jumps overboard
view all 1,428 comments…
user1 Y/N YOURE SO PRETTY GIVE ME A CHANCE
user2 DITCH LOGAN AND BE WITH ME!!!
user3 kinda real
user4 Y/N I CAN DO THE DISHES and cleAN THE HOUSE
oscarpiastri jump, i dare u
logansargeant wtf
kidy/n i’ll even do a backflip
lilyzneimer oscar wtf
maxverstappen1 no shes annoying
kidy/n thank u max
alex_albon she can’t even swim lol
kidy/n i’m LEARNING
alex_albon there is no learning at 20
kidy/n see, i wouldn’t speak so much for someone who can’t golf
lilymhe YEAH END HIM
landonorris YEAH DO A FLIP
logansargeant no that’s not what i asked you to do
georgerussell63 she’s pretty (pls jump)
williamsracing y/n is always very pretty!!!
logansargeant thank youuuu
kidy/n kiss me admin
andrettiracing STAND BACK 🤺 THAT’S OUR DRIVER
kidy/n calm down there is enough of me to get around &lt;3
sebastianvettel ahhh my pretty girl!!! (she’s threatening to shave my head)
kidy/n ?
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therantingsage · 22 days
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Because I promised this, and I really wanted to do it anyway, here's a really really long-winded rambling dissertation on:
Why N and Uzi secretly dating since before episode 5 is genuinely super plausible and also stupidly hilarious /pos
Under the cut cuz it got obscenely long oops-
Idk where to start, so I'll just cover my bases: why people think they've been in a relationship already in the first place.
We all saw this scene:
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And legit it can only be implying one of two things. Either A: this is his confession of feelings for her. Or B: this is him admitting that they've been dating for a while at this point. With the hearts it's pretty clear that this statement is meant to be romantically interpreted, and Nori's aghast reaction confirms that that's how it's being interpreted.
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Obviously no matter the interpretation, N only writes that because he can't think of anything else to snap Uzi out of it and thereby stop this confrontation from ending poorly. And it works obviously so good on him for the quick thinking.
Two things that make me lean towards the 'we're dating' interpretation over 'confession' interpretation, though: firstly, he's not writing this to tell Uzi something, he specifically calls out to Nori before writing it. "Hey btw I'm dating your daughter" makes more sense than "Hey btw I like your daughter romantically" because if it was the latter, Nori has far less reason to be mad at Uzi about it rather than N. It's not like Uzi can control how N feels. But if they're dating, that means Uzi is partially to blame for that and Nori can get upset at HER.
Secondly, the awkward wording. Like it's really vague and without the hearts you'd have no reason to assume anything but platonic meaning. But these are words we, and him, have heard before:
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...from Uzi, in response to a question about who she is and, by proxy, the nature of their relationship. She says it defensively, follows it up by telling N to shut up. N repeating her wording which, again, is a description of the nature of their relationship....but this time implying something romantic with it, it suggests the idea that it had romantic implications the first time.
I don't think it's far-fetched to say Uzi at least has feelings for N at this point in the story. I don't think anyone's arguing that that's not true. But the idea that 'hang out' means the exact same thing both times is what I'm arguing here. They're dating, but this version of N is a stranger to her. A cute stranger, as she says, but a stranger nonetheless who she isn't comfortable admitting to that she's dating him in the future to his face.
Backing up a bit, Uzi's reaction to Nori's reaction:
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This is a clear and obvious parallel to the previous episode, when 'Tessa' says "Don't date my robot, please."
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In both instances, someone gets on her case about the idea of them dating, and in both cases she doesn't deny it but instead defends both his and her own agency in the matter. No one is allowed to tell them what to do and Uzi refuses to let anyone try.
When Nori says it, though, she does seem to try and deny it for a moment. "I'm not-" She cuts herself off so we can't say for certain what she was going to say (if anything. it's entirely possible she started that sentence with no plan how to finish it, I do that a lot personally). But that's also because, like, she's Uzi. If this was meant to be a secret relationship, it would probably be her who made that decision. And like with butler N, she has no reason to disclose that kind of information to a stranger. She'd probably try and deny it whether its true or not.
As for when it would've started, after camp is the only big timeskip where we don't have much clue went on during. Cabin Fever is a big episode for them, and the three episodes that come after it are all back-to-back-to-back. The only time it makes sense to have started is sometime between eps 4 and 5.
And guys. Guys.
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This, more than anything to me, paired with the idea that they've been dating for a while by the time the most recent couple episodes happen.....doesn't this seem so, so romantic? You could easily call this a love confession! So easily! It sounds like one much more than 'we just kinda are hanging out a lot idk' at least.
Like, rephrase that even a little: "Being with you makes scary things fun. Being with you makes me feel brave. It makes me feel safe. So I want to keep being with you."
And Uzi agrees with that sentiment. He promises to stick with her. And she laughs and smiles with him as he makes the scary thing she's been dealing with into something fun, something they can laugh about. The together line gets repeated in the most recent episode, directly calling back to this scene as well.
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Like, just...AGH. In Cabin Fever he says it once as they're falling and a second time once they're grounded. The second time its a question, and one she eagerly answers with physical affection, which is super rare for her. In Mass Destruction its a statement, because he already knows her answer. Its a repeated promise. A vow.
Backing up again. Let's assess some interactions under this context. Assuming they're dating in secret. Because it paints so many things in a different light and basically nothing contradicts it which is fricken wild. This:
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Isn't a sheepish Uzi trying to hold her crush's hand in a moment of fear. This is an Uzi who wants to keep their relationship a secret but is so in need of comfort right now she's willing to risk exposing them to get it.
This:
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Her being so relieved because she almost watched him die but he's alive he's ok and she doesn't care who sees it because she needs to hug her boyfriend rIGHT NOW GUYS I DON'T CARE I'M HUGGING MY BOYFRIEND-
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This whole scene. Uzi interacts with him so gently here. She's not gentle with anybody else at all. She sees him stressed and uses his own "you good?" on him and it's just so dang tender when you think about it. Because no one else can hear them talking to each other. It's just these two sending face texts and everyone else's focus is on the Sentinal so they can afford to be as couple-y in this conversation as they want.
And after:
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Blushing because they like each other so so dang much.......sweating bullets because the other two can see them do this. Suddenly without either of them really thinking about it they're being romantic around other people and wow! That's nerve-wracking! Peak young love early-in-the-relationship behavior they ain't slick.
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His tone of voice in this scene is gentler I think than we've ever heard from him before (Michael Kovach you are so damn good at your job). His loss-filled fury is cooled in an instant when he realizes how close he came to hurting his girlfriend. It's heartbreakingly gentle before 'Tessa' cuts him off.
And when she cuts Uzi off:
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He looks like genuinely pissed at her. "Did you really just interrupt my gf while she was talking?? She's scared and you're disrespecting her tf is wrong with u??"
And like- the fact he was genuinely willing to off Tessa for her. Like he realizes there's a possibility she tried to get his gf killed for no reason and upon her not even trying to deny it he just kills her instantly. Because it's no longer a question of the universe or Uzi. It's a question of Tessa or Uzi, and its a choice his heart has already made before this point.
But here's like. The thing about all this that gets me. This is meant to be a secret relationship, right? Like nobody but them is supposed to know about this. And the fact that we the audience didn't have any reason to assume them to be an established relationship without heavy headcanoning means they did a decent job at that, right?
Guys. Guys.
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N is terrible at keeping secrets. Like. Horrendously bad at keeping things on the down-low. Every single time in the series he's supposed to not spill info he like. Fails. It's wild. And because the relationship happens after "Inclusive reflexes!" that means that Uzi damn well knows this and still trusts him to try.
But based on V's reaction to the handholding in Dead End:
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I'm honestly willing to bet she knew. She doesn't sound surprised, just annoyed that she has to see it. Which means N probably like, heard her badmouthing Uzi or something and got like way too defensive about it and she clocked him instantly. Because he's bad at keeping secrets. And she doesn't bother mentioning it during any of these episodes out loud because she doesn't care what these idiots do in their free time.
Can you imagine how many hundred close calls they must've had? How many times Uzi must've had to aggressively shush him or cover his mouth because he was going to say something slightly too sappy in public? The only reason we don't get to see the time period between eps 4 and 5 is because it would've been painfully obvious that these two dating is the worst kept secret in the entire bunker. I'm going insane.
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Uzi fell in love with a proud himbo and they both know it. It's genuinely a miracle they didn't clue the audience in sooner.
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youronlydarlin · 3 months
Text
warning: wow. This one's lengthy, kinda dark! Johnny "Soap" Mactavish, implied older Soap, also implied age difference, he's in his forties while you're in your twenties, Soap being a pervert, Soap being the pettiest person on the whole planet, noncon/dubcon
Hmrmrmrmrm. Jus' thninkin bout' Pervert Johnny who you turn down at the bar. Rejecting the drink he's offered you, saying that you're not really looking for anything like that since your focusing on your studies at the moment.
Pervert Johnny who's just as stubborn as you are. He shouldn't have been shooting his shot in the first place, he's already got weird stares from the other patrons all cause his drunk ass was obviously hitting on someone that's probably young enough to be his kid.
Pervert Johnny who angrily beats his dick to the the thought of you after. He got rejected, that much was obvious. But s' not going to stop him. His pace is fast, and cruel all cause he thought he could get a cutie to spill into by the end of the night. Cums his brains out, and almost passes out. Wakes up the next mornin', and almost immediately does he have a plan on how to get back at you for bruising his ego.
Pervert Jonny who you thought you'll never hear from again, till all of a sudden theirs a cute guy your mom's been talking your ear off about. Saying about how, he's such a ladies man, the charming soldier that's aged like fine wine. You've always just laughed at it, happy that your ma's finally starting to get over your asshole of a dad who broke her heart. But you did find it oddly suspicious that they've already had plans about marriage, so soon, you thought. Too soon if you ask me.
Speaking of their wedding. You missed it. Total bummer. But it wasn't your fault when the date of it inconveniently clashed with your exam week. Everyone, not just you, were nose deep in books, spending the day away in the library. You apologized to your mom, and her boyfriend via letter. The guy must be extra shy or something because he refused to video call like you suggested to your mom. Anyways, the exam passes by like a breeze, and so does the wedding. You didn't really see both of them after. Your mom calling you and saying that they're already in their honeymoon. You don't worry too much, considering just how much the week's already taken out of you, so let's just say that this was a much needed rest.
Besides. You'll finally get to meet your mom's boyfriend, well, husband now, you guess. And what's the worst thing that could happen, right?
...
Never in your life did you expect to see him, again. Pervert Johnny, who turns into Pervert Step Dad Johnny. You just got back from your classes and there he is, rough hands on your mom's ass, and they have the audacity to act surprised. She excuses herself from him, giggling wildly like a school girl while she takes your face in her palms kissing it, and talking about how much she's missed you. While you can't help but look away from the man that's standing in your kitchen. But unlike you, he stares. And you don't miss the way he licks his lips at the helpless expression you have on.
Pervert Step Dad Johnny that likes to walk around shirtless. Always just in his gray sweatpants. You think he's doing it on purpose too, never wearing boxers so you could see the imprint of his cock. Doesn't even bother hiding the erections he get from you, always teasing, and saying "Eyes up here, lad/lass.." when you weren't even staring.
Pervert Step Dad Johnny who you hate with a passion. This has got to be the prettiest attempt at revenge you've ever seen, but you don't have it in your heart to tell your mom about her new husbands real intentions.
Pervert Step Dad Johnny who near pounces on you the moment your mom leaves for a business trip. Your bending over when all of a sudden he's behind you. Frothing his dick on your ass, and you don't even have the chance to scream or run away cause he's got one of his rough palms over your mouth. He pulls you close to his chest, and he pants like he's in heat, whispering the filthiest words to your ear.
Pervert Step Dad Johnny who magically convinced you to try his dick at least once. And that's how it starts :(.
Pervert Step Dad Johnny who gets you addicted to his dick. Knowing you'll come around in no time. He's always knew you'd be the prettiest whore. And he takes advantage of the fact that your mom, well, his wife, is out of the house. You learn so quickly too. Morning head from you's got to be his favorite part of starting the day.
Pervert Step Dad Johnny who dresses you up in the prettiest lingerie money can buy. Corsets, and laces. Stockings, and bows. You have a collection of all of them right now. Be careful though, tease him enough and your getting your cute little panties pulled to the side. His throbbing dick rearranging your guts, and you see it poke through your tummy. The perv definitely rubs at the bulge, talking about how happy he is, because his baby's giving him a baby too.
a/n: I don't know what possessed me to write this. I just wanted some older soap content, kinda, this is just my second post for the day so m' sorry if it's not enough to feed you guys 😞 but there's a project that's been needing some finalizing and because of that this might not be my finest work. But I'm hoping that your having a better day than I am, my loves! Remember to always take care of yourself!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
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