#along. that he now had something that gave him the permission & ability to do what had always been simmering under the surface. and that's | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlemourningstarr · 2 months

Text

Where the Delicate Stops

The House of Healing is a horror unlike what Astarion had expected, and he finds it all too easy to let his nightmares surface in a place that is nothing but death and despair.

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, horror, gore, hurt/comfort, fluff, blood kink, blood play, unresolved trauma, vomit

Astarion did not enjoy the look of this House of Healing. The building was cloaked in the land’s cursed shadows, but it felt as if it simply radiated something-

Death.

He fought down a shiver, standing a few paces back as the party determined what they were going to go. The initial plan had been to make their way to the Thorm Family Mausoleum- but that plan had been deterred when Halsin heard the Flaming Fist at Last Light muttering some child’s name.

Astarion hadn’t listened that much- honestly they all said so many things, it just wasn’t worth the time. But now it seemed they needed to wake this man, or the druid was most likely going to erupt into-

Well, something scarier than a bear, he presumed.

Granted, the idea of these frigid shadows leaving was appealing, he could admit. They were a bit much, even for him. And he quite disliked not having the ability to just go look for his dinner. Nothing in the shadows was fit for eating- it all stank of decay.

“We’ll circle around the parameter then.” Astarion focused his attention as he heard Gale speaking. “If you’re quite sure you don’t want us all to crash this little party.”

“No, we can’t draw too much attention. Not yet. The last thing we need is anything getting back to Moonrise- and the cultists swarming Last Light.” Sekh had his arms folded, speaking in a firm but not unkind voice to Gale, the party now divided. Astarion noticed Wyll and Shadowheart flanking Sekh, while Karlach and Lae’zel had already turned to begin heading off into the shadows- both looking quite ready to shed some blood.

Astarion took the few steps to his- well, his…

Well?

Whatever was Sekh now? Astarion didn’t know how to label him, didn’t really know how to do this- how to care about someone. But that didn’t seem to stop his dead heart from hammering at just the sight of him.

He settled on simply his.

“Enough standing around,” the vampire complained, leaning his head on Sekh’s shoulder and looking up at him with rather large eyes, “let’s go hurt something.” Sekh glanced at him, and gave a bemused little smile.

Astarion’s stomach was in knots. He couldn’t remember the last time someone’s smile could send him soaring. He had to lift his head so Skeh could turn, signaling for Shadowheart and Wyll to follow along. “You heard him,” he said, grasping at the large door, “and who am I to deny such a precious thing?”

Another glance back at Astarion with an eye like hellfire and one like the abyss, and Sekh was pulling the door open. Gods, the man was a tease.

Astarion couldn’t forget he had asked for that.

They stepped inside the House of Healing, and Astarion instantly reached up, covered his nose with the back of his hand. The place stank of stale, forgotten blood, bile, gravedirt. So many putrid little nuances that it made him dizzy.

What may once have been a nurse was standing by the door, and she reached a hand out, pausing the party. Her clothing was filthy, stained with the gods only knew what, her skin with a blueish pallor that made Astarion seem sunkissed.

“Ah, more in need of healing. Do wait in line- the doctor will see you soon. He will soothe.”

Her voice was haunting, like a lost echo. For a moment they all paused, taken aback by a single, unarmed person telling them to wait-

But something about this wretched place felt as if they needed permission to enter. A feeling Astarion hadn’t felt since waking up, bathed in sunlight after the Nautiloid.

The party simply gawked, before Astarion sighed, slipping up past Shadowheart and Wyll, then Sekh, to stand in front of the nurse. He faked a cough, turning into his arm and forcing his lungs to burn with the force, before he dramatically tipped his head back, let himself fall.

Sekh caught him, hands going under his arms and bracing him back against his chest. Astarion had never doubted the drow would catch him.

“Oh dear, are we poorly? Are we very poorly?” Astarion slit open one eye, noted the nurse was staring at him, and gave a sad little groan.

“Quite poorly,” Sekh said, and Astarion could hear the laugh building in his voice. Gods if the man laughed and ruined his perfectly good show-

“Please, hurry now. The doctor will see, the doctor will soothe.” Astarion gave another fake, sickly groan, and made no move to support his own weight. He felt Sekh attempt to shift him, before the drow was hoisting him up, tossing him awkwardly over his shoulder.

Astarion’s eyes shot open, but thankfully Wyll was already between him and the nurse, offering his gentlemanly thanks, as Sekh carried Astarion away from the strange creature parading as help. The drow made it just to the corner, before he was leaning the shoulder not supporting Astarion against the wall.

“Gods you’re heavy,” he managed, as Astarion still made no attempt to move. He was rather enjoying this, actually.

“I am light as a feather, darling,” he drawled, “perhaps you’re just not quite up to the task of handling me?”

Sekh pushed off the wall, and suddenly Astarion was shoved roughly to his feet, back pressed against the wall. Sekh grasped his wrists, pinned them to the surface, the quick action knocking over one of the abandoned medical carts. The metal clanged loudly on the floor, as Astarion felt his breath catching, his dead pulse hammering.

“Want to try that again?” Sekh asked, his smile wicked. Astarion bit at his tongue, arched slightly, pushed himself flush to Sekh. The hands on his wrists tightened. He felt dizzy, hot suddenly under his skin- which was still such a new feeling-

Before he could do anything else, Sekh released him, stepped back. The wicked smile turned kinder, and yes Astarion had been the one to say he needed a bit of time to come to terms with his own body, his needs, his own boundaries-

But suddenly he was desperately wishing the drow would come back and devour him. But oh, it wasn’t the time or the place. And as much as Astarion could want, a large chunk of his very being was terrified of messing this up, of doing something wrong and losing the drow. Or losing himself.

“I don’t want to know,” Shadowheart said, as she and Wyll caught up, the cleric noting the toppled tray, Astarion pressed to the wall, eyes slightly dilated. “Astarion, your acting is atrocious.” Astarion argued that his acting was wonderful as he pushed off the wall, both Sekh and Wyll leaving the two and sneaking back to examine what might have once been a row of patient beds.

It was nothing but dust, bones, and old cotton now.

Shadowheart only waved Astarion off, and the elf frowned, but shut his mouth. He could argue with her later. Now that he was back in the present, and not lost in a sudden moment of need with his… his drow flush to him, the House of Healing was beginning to weigh down on him again. He brushed some dust off his armor as they poked about, noting rusty, blood-dried tools that looked as if they hadn’t moved in a hundred years.

Astarion toed at an old metal bowl, a blackish liquid dried inside. It smelled so bad his stomach rolled, threatening to give up what little blood he had in his body- which wasn’t much, only the light snack he’d gotten from Rolan, the night before.

He turned away from it, noted that Sekh was down on a knee, examining some withered bones collecting dust on a stained bedroll, scattered on the floor. “I don’t think this place has healed anyone in a long time,” the warlock said, quietly, fingers moving over bones. Astarion fought down a shiver- he had to agree.

This place was wretched beyond words.

He turned away, heard a few of the bones clacking together as Sekh moved them, before the drow was up as well. “Whatever that flaming fist found here, I wouldn’t be shocked if it might have made the Shadowfell pale in comparison.”

“I wouldn’t agree there,” Shadowheart advised, but her heart didn’t sound as if it backed up her argument.

“Let’s just be quick.”

Astarion couldn’t disagree. He was happy to leave the abandoned beds behind, moving into the depths of the building, towards a large set of wooden doors. It didn’t need to be said that the party assumed the doctor would be behind these doors.

Honestly, Astarion didn’t think there was a doctor at all. He assumed the wraith of a woman that had greeted them was simply mad. Perhaps the doctor had died long ago, succumbed to these shadows- hells, his bones could have been the ones Sekh was sifting through.

When the doors to what was a medical auditorium, fit for students, were pushed open, Astarion wished he had been right.

A man- gods, was that thing even a man?- was looming over a naked figure, strapped down to a gurney. His hands were monstrous, nothing but long, lithe scalpels that clacked as he spoke, as he gestured. He was surrounded by boney, ghastly figures that resembled the nurse they’d met upon entry.

“The objective of the scalpel, sisters,” he said, his voice this thin, ghostly rasp- it sounded as if his throat had a layer of dry dust coating it, “ is to soothe, for the scalpel, indeed, is an extension of Shar.” He moved his scalpel fingers in the dim light, and Astarion watched Sekh’s hands twitch, caught a shadow coiling around his fingers. The drow was coiled just as tight as he was, at the sight.

Before them, the man took one scalpel finger and eased it into the restrained figure, cutting just below what once was a man’s ribs. The body gave the barest of thrashes, a weak near death rattle leaving its open, bloody mouth.

Whatever this man once was, he was barely alive now, nothing but a toy for this doctor.

“See how the patient reacts when I but stroke the right nerve? Hear its comfort. Hear the very melody of mercy.” The man- was this a man?- tipped his head back, and Astarion watched as he beckoned one of the nurses forward, her own knife cutting into the subject’s stomach. He watched the blade disappear to her knuckles, before the doctor was exclaiming, “Stop! Stay your hand, for it slaps where it should stroke. We can hardly hear the patient’s sighs of solace.”

“Sekh,” Astarion whispered, and the drow glanced at him. They needed to do something- Astarion didn’t want to watch this pathetic show for a moment longer. Next to him, Wyll had his hand on his rapier.

“We need to do something.” the other warlock said, seeming moments away from charging past the drow and into the fray.

“Perhaps it is our unexpected audience that makes you quiver.” Astarion glanced away from Wyll, saw that the room was staring directly at them- heads turned, all unmoving except the doctor.

They didn’t seem real. They looked like something horrid out of a nightmare- something crawling from the depths of a long lost dungeon, locked away in the dark for centuries.

“Come.” The doctor curled those bladed fingers, inclining his head slightly as he studied the group. “Step forward. You are no sister, but that matters none. Every student is welcome.”

“A…student,” Sekh said, squaring his shoulders, pulling up to his whole height- which wasn’t much, truth be told. Yet even behind him, Astarion knew he had to look imposing. It was just a drow thing, he’d come to realize. “Yes. Do enlighten me.”

“Sekh’met,” Astarion hissed under his breath- gods below, what was he thinking? His muscles were coiled so tight they ached, the vampire ready to burst, to lash forward the moment his companions moved.

The doctor tapped his scalpels on the gurney, the cling of metal making Astarion want to grind his teeth. “Absence,” he finally mused, “No other word captures the heart of Shar so very perfectly.” Oh Astarion was very sick of that goddess already. “It is the scalpel led journey that leads from peace,” the man lifted his hand, plunged one of his knived fingers into the eye socket out the man. The subject thrashed, as the doctor pulled free, an already damaged eyeball now skewered on his finger.

Oh, Astarion was going to be sick.

“-To pain,” he concluded, stabbing into the other eye, removing that as well. He flicked his wrist, and the eyeballs slid off, making a wet little squish as they landed on the old wooden floor and rolled a few paces away. The subject pulled feebly at his bindings, mumbling something incoherent. “If light is the symptom, then darkness is the cure.”

It sounded like some shit Cazador would say, before locking one of the spawn up. Something he would’ve said to Astarion before all those months-

“He’s just like Cazador,” Astarion growled, baring his fangs, anger rising like a tidal wave in his belly. “Utterly insane.” He took a step closer to Sekh, trembling with the fury that was pulled taut in every muscle of his body. He opened his mouth to beg to kill him- gods he was seeing his damned old master now, instead of this wretched doctor- Cazador standing tall, grinning with those overly long fangs, black eyes pulling Astarion apart piece by piece by bloody piece-

The vampire didn’t even realize the doctor had continued speaking. “Let us soothe. Let us cure you.” The nurses all took a unified step, and Astarion forced his breathing to calm, his eyes to focus. Cazador wasn’t here, and if he didn’t keep himself together, he’d end up with one of those ungodly dull, rusted blades in his gut.

Sekh inclined his head, and he still looked too calm. Astarion swore he could hear his pulse tho- it was racing. “No wonder their incisions were so imprecise,” Sekh said, “their blades are dull- they need practice before they can show any of us absence.”

“What are you doing?” Wyll whispered, and one of Sekh’s hands fell to his side, slightly behind his back. He spread his fingers, palm out to Wyll and Astarion, a silent wait.

Astarion noticed Wyll relaxed a tick- trust.

“How to steady their hands, I wonder?” The doctor glanced around, and Sekh turned his head slightly- Astarion caught a smile then, charming and calculated.

“They should practice on themselves,” Sekh offered. The doctor seemed to brighten at this, raising those scalpel hands and telling the sisters to acquaint themselves with absence.

Astarion watched in a mingling of horror and elated awe as the nurses turned on each other. They moved in quick, jerking movements- dull blades slicing open skin, stabbing into stained uniforms. No words were spoken, only grunts and little cries. They stabbed and stabbed and stabbed until they were each crumpling to the ground, bleeding out blood so black and acrid it had to be pure rot.

And the doctor simply seemed pleased at his darling pupils. He held his arms outstretched, offering oblivion, sheer absence now, to the party. At least it’d be an easier fight now-

“My magic has blinded me.” Sekh took a step away from the party, towards the doctor. “These false shadows that envelop me, they pale in comparison to those of Shar’s embrace. I see this now.” He continued on, stepped over the body of one of the nurses without even looking. She was still twitching. “Her path is the only true path. Show me how to greet absence, how the worthy embrace the dark lady.”

Sekh stepped up onto the dias, paused less than an arm's length from the doctor. Astarion dug one of his heels against the wood, ready to launch himself forward if that monster so much as twitched in the direction of his drow-

“I beg of you.” Sekh dropped heavily to his knees, looking up at the doctor. It was the stupidest thing Astarion could have imagined him doing- he was at a disadvantage, wouldn’t have the right angle to grab at his sword, and even with his magic-

“Oh but your diligence is exemplary,” the doctor mused, voice a perverted, proud purr. “Very well, your own scalpel you will be. Observe, dear one, then succeed me, into the succour of Shar.”

Then, in a single, fluid motion, the doctor flicked his wrist, and sent one of his knived fingers directly into his own eye socket, so far back that it must have scraped the back of his skull. He collapsed, limp, among the bodies of his pupils, never once touching Sekh in the fall.

The room fell deathly silent, the three just staring at an unmoving Sekh, before Wyll finally said, “I’m terrified of you right now.”

“I think I’m in love with him right now,” Shadowheart mused, voice teasing- but there was a hint of something there- unease as well. Memories, perhaps, of whoever she knew that was just so good at emotional manipulation.

Astarion swore his throat was closing up. Sekh had never once faltered, in playing directly into what the doctor needed to hear. He was persuasive in the perfect, charming, calculating manner.

It occurred to him that he would have been the ideal spawn, in Cazador’s eyes.

The thought sent him reeling. The sheer notion of Cazador even laying eyes on the one thing Astarion had claimed as his, on the one person that saw Astarion as just that-

He was nauseous, thinking on it. The room felt suffocating then, the stench of thick, blackened bile-blood suddenly too much. Astarion tried to swallow, but his throat was too tight.

He turned away from the group, hurrying back out the theater doors. He stumbled a few steps, before he fell down heavily to his knees, hands bracing on the floor as he coughed and wretched. The blood from the previous night was long gone from his belly, and all that he had was sour, acidic bile that burned his throat. He made a pained noise, squeezed his eyes shut, body trembling as he coughed violently again.

He was so engrossed in the tightness in his stomach, the burn in his throat, that he didn’t hear the footsteps coming up to him. When a hand touched his back his eyes shot open, his entire body tensing-

“Astarion, shh, it’s only me.”

Sekh’s voice floated to him, and the vampire relaxed, coughing again, before spitting thick saliva onto the floor. Sekh got down onto a knee, rubbed his hand soothingly along the vampire’s back. Astarion hung his head, closed his eyes again, tried to breathe through his mouth, afraid if he could so much as smell the corpses from the other room he’d throw up his entire stomach, the whole dead organ.

Taking a very deep breath, Astarion opened his eyes, pushed himself up onto his knees. There was a layer of cold sweat on his spin, sticking to his scalp, that made him feel filthy.

And yet Sekh was there, cradling his face, not seeming to care. “Are you alright?” Astarion managed a nod, as the drow studied his face. “What happened?”

Oh, he’d just imagined possibly one of the worst nightmares of his life, was all. Nothing major.

“It’s nothing,” Astarion managed, his voice weak, raspy. Sekh frowned, and oh he didn’t buy that for a moment, the elf knew. Damn. “Their blood smells so vile that it made me ill. Nothing more.”

Sekh still didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead he stood up, offered both hands to Astarion, and pulled him up to stand. Astarion felt unsteady, and was thankful when the drow kept a firm hold on his arms, as he regained his balance. Once he was steady, he expected Sekh to release him-

But instead the drow pulled him closer, wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. Astarion went rigid for a moment from shock, before he relaxed, melted into the man, resting his cheek on his shoulder as Sekh rocked a little, from side to side. The embrace was short- but oh, Astarion felt like any embrace that ended with Sekh would be too short- but it still left Astarion feeling calmer, even when the drow released him completely.

And when Sekh gave him a little, reassuring smile, Astarion felt elated and dizzy-

“Astarion, Sekh- come in here!”

And Wyll’s shout forced Astarion back to reality. That smile fell from Sekh’s face, and the drow turned, heading back into the operating theater. Astarion steeled himself before following, refusing to be so precious as to not face the carnage again.

Shouldn’t he be reveling in it? No matter how disgusting the necrotic blood of the cursed was?

Wyll was across the room, having been going through one of the wooden cabinets. He had an old, well loved lute in one of his hands, holding it out as if it was treasure.

Was it supposed to mean something?

Astarion filed behind Sekh as the drow reached out, took the lute in his hands. “Look,” Wyll said, guiding Sekh to turn it over. Along the curved bottom was a single engraved word-

Cullagh.

“The flaming fist,” Sekh said, before he broke into a grin. “Wyll, I could kiss you.” The other warlock chuckled, before he glanced a look at Astarion.

“Best not.” Astarion quirked a brow at Wyll, a silent what? That the man utterly ignored. Did he think he would attempt to rip his throat out with his bare fangs over a single show of affection?

Well… maybe not his whole throat…

“We need to get this back to Last Light. Halsin will want to see it.” Sekh passed the lute back to Wyll. “Where’s Shadowheart?”

Wyll gestured back out of the theater. “She wondered that way.” Astarion caught a shift in Sekh then, the smallest flash to his eyes, frown to his lips.

Shadowheart had been oddly quiet during the whole ordeal- considering that her much beloved goddess Shar was being mentioned- all she’d had to say was after. Thinking on it, Astarion would have expected her to step in- while they didn’t know Shar’s dogma, surely she could have recited half the damn goddess’s teachings to soothe the mad doctor.

“I’m going to go find her,” Sekh said, “if you want to finish up in here. I’m ready to be rid of this place.” Wyll’s pained grin was enough to say he agreed, and Astarion wasn’t going to argue. He’d had quite enough healing, thank you very much.

Astarion left the room with Sekh, a step behind the drow, as they glanced around, looking for Shadowheart. She couldn’t have gone far-

Sekh pushed open an old, wooden door, before he paused, blocking the doorway completely despite his lithe frame. Astarion could see the muscles along his neck and shoulders going tense,heard his pulse pick up.

“Sekh-”

“Don’t look.”

Astarion frowned, before he ignored the man, ducking beneath his outstretched arm. Within the room Shadowheart was standing a few feet from patient beds, looking shell shocked, arms limp at her sides. Astarion followed her gaze, before tensing himself.

There was a sick bastardization of a nurse leaning over a body, hands deep inside his opened chest cavity. She was mumbling to herself as she shifted about- gods, looking for what Astarion didn’t know. Gore was caked on her arms, along the front of her uniform-

The poor man was completely opened, sternum to groin.

Sekh moved past Astarion then, saying a shaky whisper, “That’s Arabella’s father.”

The name sounded familiar-

The little idol thief from the Grove.

Astarion felt his stomach drop. That little hellion had been rather sweet, even if he was loathe to admit it. And if that was her father- where was she?

“Shadowheart,” Sekh said softly, trying to coax her back into herself. Her stare was a thousand paces away. When she didn’t move Sekh moved very carefully towards her, trying to be silent. Still, the old wooden boards creaked, and the nurse paused her rummaging, glancing over at her audience.

“Ah, more patients. Please, do sit. The doctor has found oblivion, but no matter. I will carry on.” She turned back to the body, and Astarion watched as she pulled something large and bulbous from the tiefling’s body- gods was that his liver?

He moved quickly to Sekh and Shadowheart. Sekh had leaned in, was speaking softly to her, and Astarion watched as she blinked away her stupor, looked over at them with eyes that screamed. “Come on,” Sekh said, placing a hand on her lower back. “There’s nothing we can do here…”

No, there was no saving this man, or the woman on the bed next to him, already in a worse state. Astarion glanced away, followed as Sekh guided Shadowheart out of the room, and thankfully out of the damned house of healing.

Wyll was waiting outside, still holding the lute, blissfully unaware. He smiled at the group, before the charm left his face and was replaced by concern, at their solemn faces. Before he could ask, Sekh said, “Arabella’s father… her mother too.” He shook his head. “Dead.”

Wyll’s brow creased. Astarion didn’t doubt he remembered every tiefling child from the Grove. He was too good- the sort of man Astarion had dreamed about in his youth to whisk him off his feet. “Arabella?” Wyll asked, and Sekh sighed.

“I don’t know- not there. I never saw her at Last Light.” Sekh glanced back at the house, before a shudder rolled through him. “Take the lute back to Halsin. I’ll stay and look for her- find Karlach, Lae’zel, and Gale. They can help.”

Astarion could tell Wyll wanted to argue, but he didn’t. He trusted Sekh- and Astarion wondered if the drow realized just how hard earned that trust had to be.

Sekh turned back to Shadowheart, and Astarion watched as the drow took her face in his hands softly. The touch was so gentle, and Astarion could feel it himself. “Shadowheart,” he said, very softly, “go back with Wyll, okay?”

Astarion wasn’t sure what had happened to the cleric, but it wasn’t good, that was for sure. He also knew the cleric held a rather special place in Sekh’s heart. Yet he only felt a momentary spark of jealousy, before it was quickly smothered.

Shadowheart nodded slowly, and Sekh gave Wyll a silent look, before he turned to Astarion. “I promise I won’t be long.”

Wait- “You expect me to go too?” Sekh opened his mouth to respond, and Astarion stepped closer, didn’t give him the chance. “I’m not leaving you again.”

And he meant it. Damn the drow for terrifying him back at Moonrise- he’d be damned twice over before he let the man out of his sight again.

Astarion’s mouth was set in a firm frown. Sekh sighed, but relented, didn’t argue, and simply gave Wyll and Shadowheart a nod, before turning away. Astarion walked with him around the hulking House of Healing, towards the decrepit cemetery that seemed to have sprouted from its fetid corpse. The grounds were eerily silent, except for the whistle of a haunting wind that made Astarion want to shiver.

He was cold, colder than usual. His body was running on empty, his hunger gnawing at him more and more with each passing minute. And while he was quite used to ignoring it, he had gotten used to satiating it as of late. He found it was harder to keep from focusing on it.

They were deep into the graveyard when Sekh started calling for their companions. Astarion kept a few paces back, eyes dancing over the shadows- waiting for one to spring to life. He felt like he was being watched in this wretched darkness, and he hated it. He much preferred to be the terror lurking in the dark.

“Will you check up that way?” Sekh asked, gesturing towards a stretch of the cemetery. “I can go this way, towards the ground fissure. I want to find them sooner rather than later.”

Unspoken, he wanted to find Arabella sooner rather than later.

Astarion sucked at his tongue, before he nodded. “Don’t get yourself killed darling,” he tried to tease, but it came out deathly serious. Sekh’s eyes softened and he reached out, got his hands on Astarion’s waist, tugging him a step closer.

“I promise I won’t die without you.”

Astarion hummed, focusing on the feeling of the drow’s hands on his waist and not the clawing ache in his belly. “You’d better not.” Sekh inclined his head slightly, and Astarion saw the desire for a kiss, written all over his face. “I don’t think you want to kiss me now, my sweet.”

Sekh chuckled, leaned in anyway, placed a soft kiss to Astarion’s lips. “I don’t care,” he mumbled, “I’d kiss you no matter what. So long as you want me to.”

Astarion felt his chest constricting. He didn’t dare speak, didn’t trust himself to do so. Gods damn he had never felt so undone in his life, as he did around this man.

When Sekh released him he stepped back, sparing one final, long look at the drow, before he turned, making his way further into the cemetery. He tried to focus on the quiet around him, for signs of movement, voices, a pulse. It took a while, but he eventually heard Gale’s voice.

He paused next to a Mausoleum, peered around and saw Gale was chatting away with Lae’zel, who looked… less than amused. Her sword was very noticeably unbloodied, which meant they must have not found anything interested in the dark.

He walked over, pausing only when Gale caught sight of him and jumped. “Gods you are silent, Astarion!”

Did he need to remind everyone he was a vampire?

“And a welcome sight,” Lae’zel said, yet there was no venom in her voice. Gale might be annoying her, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like him- even if she wouldn’t admit it. Their good spirits diminished when Astarion didn’t bother to mask the discontent on his face.

He didn’t relish providing them a clipped version of what had transpired within the House of Healing, but he did it anyway as they walked, heading back towards where Astarion had left Sekh. He didn’t get beyond the wretched doctor though, before he found Sekh. He was crouched down by a skeleton, pushing the bones aside, a small, well worn book left open next to it. Sekh glanced up before Astarion could get close enough to see and stood up, walking over quickly.

“Where’s Karlach?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. Gale recounted what he’d told Astarion as they’d walked- that they’d found Arabella out in the shadows and Karlach had escorted her back to Last Light. They wanted to look for her parents, and Gale was about to implore that they set off immediately to do just that-

“They’re dead,” Sekh said, his voice grave. Gale pinched his lips shut, and Lae’zel’s frown deepened. Sekh sighed, reached up to rake a hand into his hair, loosening some of it from his knot. “Gods dammit,” he said, before he turned, kicked a stray bone. It flew a few paces away, smacked into an older cracked gravestone.

Astarion swore he could smell the anger on the man. It had been growing, ever since the Creche- he’d seen it nearly take hold when they’d first found Last Light. It could be beautiful, if it was directed at something that deserved to die-

But seeing Sekh swallowed by it, unable to truly release himself from the rage? It made Astarion’s stomach sick. Sicker than it already was.

“We need to get back to camp,” Gale said. “We’ll… find a way to tell her.” Sekh took a calming breath.

“I’ll do it,” he said, and the sadness in his eyes made Astarion want to grind his teeth, rip apart the very air around them. And then, in barely a whisper, something caught and lost in the wind, Sekh repeated, “I’ll do it.”

Once back at Last Light, Sekh made quickly for camp, intent on not keeping Arabella in the dark. Astarion wanted to follow, but the look on the drow’s face told him it was best he didn’t.

Instead, he let himself into the inn, giving a nod to the tiefling children running around, who all actively stopped to wave at him.

When had that started?

He headed for the bar in the back, found Rolan sitting there, a book open on the bar, reading silently. His siblings were nowhere in sight- which meant it was rather quiet. Without a word Astarion settled on one of the stools, rested his chin on his palm, and just watched the tiefling.

“I know you’re there,” Rolan said, flipping the page in his book. He glanced over, and oh, those fiery eyes were just something. Rolan flicked his eyes back to his book, a bit of color rising on his cheeks. He blushed so easily, from just a glance, a moment of attention.

It was cute.

“Did you need something?” he finally asked, and Astarion shrugged a shoulder. Honestly? No. But he found he didn’t want to be alone, while he waited for Sekh.

And he admitted just that- before he could even stop himself. It just happened. Admitting weakness, especially something as precious as not wanting to be alone, had never been something he had the luxury for.

Rolan pushed his book over then, pointing to a place in the page. “Read with me.” Astarion glanced at the page, as he heard the sound of little feet landing on the bar. The resident cat- His Majesty, Astarion at learned- made his way to Astarion and bumped his head against his bicep.

Without much thought, Astarion pet the cat. “What is this?”

“A tome on fire magic,” Rolan admitted, “I’ve been studying it the whole journey. I want to have it memorized before I reach Baldur’s Gate. Perhaps...” he paused, cleared his throat, “I can explain it to you. Just to prove that I know the topic well, of course.”

And not, at all, because the tiefling perhaps was nervous that he didn’t. Perish the thought.

Astarion took the cat into his arms, as it continued to paw at him until he did so, and gave a toothy smile. If Gale had offered to do the same, he would have bemoaned the torture for hours. But Rolan?

It seemed alright, with him.

They hadn’t gotten very far into the book, when they were interrupted. Karlach popped up, lacking her usual bounce, looking almost too serious for Astarion’s liking.

“Astarion,” she said, as Rolan was mid sentence on how best to annunciate for a specific incantation. The wizard paused, and Astarion turned his head, looked at her. “I think Sekh needs you.” Astarion was up before Karlach could take another breath, setting the cat back on the bar- much to His Majesty’s chagrin. Rolan waved him off before he could speak, a few lines forming in his forehead as well, concern that the drow needed something.

Karlach took Astarion by the arm, her latest upgrade meaning she touched everyone at every chance she got- and began walking him through the inn. “You think?” Astarion asked, as they moved.

Karlach nodded. “He’d didn’t… per say tell me that. But he looked…” she paused, “Honestly? Fucking awful after talking to Arabella. And she didn’t take it well- poor thing, wouldn’t expect her to.”

Astarion nodded, as they paused by Dammon’s forge. He could just see Sekh, out by the borders of the light, sitting on the sand by the water’s edge. “He’s been there a while,” Karlach admitted. “I just thought… he might need you.”

She squeezed his shoulder, before turning to leave. Astarion made his way down the rickety old stairs, onto the sand and silt, leaving ghosts of footprints as he made his way over to Sekh.

The drow didn’t look up, when Astarion paused next to him, sat down carefully. He was just staring out into the water, this endless black. Unsure what to say- and was there something to say?- Astarion simply sat with him, staring out into the dark as well. The sight might have been beautiful once- he could almost imagine the lake sparkling in midday, the sky vibrant and clear.

This land must have thrived, once.

Without a word, Sekh leaned over, placed his head on Astarion’s shoulder. The vampire tipped his head to the side, rested it against Sekh’s, and he heard the drow give a little sigh.

“I feel awful,” he whispered, “Arabella…” he swallowed, closed his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was broken, pained, “Gods she just lost everything.”

“There was nothing you could do,” Astarion offered. It was the truth, her parents were long dead by the time they arrived.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sekh mumbled, shifting slightly. Astarion lifted his head so the drow could sit up properly. “It’s never going to matter to her- or at least, not for a long time.” He added, even softer, “I know too well.”

Astarion shifted a bit, turning more to face Sekh, and the drow mimicked him. His eyes looked so tired. There was so much more here, than just Arabella. It was painfully obvious. And Astarion found he was desperate to know what.

“Care to talk?” he asked, unsure if he had ever actually cared enough about someone else to ask. At least, in his current memory.

Sekh bit his lip, pulled his knees up and folded his arms over them. “You don’t need to hear it.”

Astarion frowned. “I can judge that for myself.” The drow closed his eyes, and then quietly, he spoke.

He spoke of his own parents- the parents Astarion knew so very little of. Sekh had spoken of his father once, but that was it. Astarion had filed it away, despite the drow having wished he would forget. Sekh in the thick throws of just waking had been something Astarion kept locked in his ribs.

Sekh’s own family, Astarion learned very quickly, were long dead. He’d been older than Arabella when it happened, but not by enough to be anything but a child. Slaughtered, in their own home, by one of the daughters of the house his mother served as a hired sword-

A house who employed his father as well, to tend to their most intimate needs. Hell, the whole town, small as it was, had been set ablaze, nothing but ash and burnt flesh and boiling blood.

“I’d be dead too,” Sekh admitted, “if not for Syl.” As if in response, Astarion saw those shadows on his face shifting. He knew they did that, even when his patron wasn’t present- but a part of him found comfort in perhaps her responding to just Sekh speaking her name. “I screamed her name until I swore my throat would bleed… and she came. She slaughtered everyone in my house. She said…” he paused, closed his eyes. “Life for life. She had been waiting years to repay the life I gave her as a child.”

It made sense, in that moment, the protectiveness Sekh had always demonstrated over his patron. How he was quick to bristle if anyone compared his pact to Wyll and Mizora’s.

Sekh pressed his forehead to his arms, looking as if he wanted to hide from the world. “This is pathetic,” he muttered, “I just don’t want to see Arabella going through this. I don’t want to see anyone go through it.”

Astarion lifted his hand, but hesitated. He wasn’t exactly sure how to comfort- he couldn’t remember a time before Sekh that anyone had comforted him. It felt like a lost skill.

So he simply did what he would want Sekh to do.

He reached out, ran his fingers along the drow’s hair. Sekh carefully lifted his head, and Astarion moved closer, got an arm around him, pulled the drow to his chest. “Astarion,” he whispered, as Astarion’s other arm wrapped around him, held him tight.

The vampire hushed him, and he felt Sekh tremble, before his face was pressed tight to Astarion’s chest. His breaths were uneven, shaking-

And Astarion realized Sekh was crying. The realization felt like it opened a gaping maw, in his chest. He ached around the sudden empty cavity, found he was holding the drow tighter, desperately. Sekh clutched at him, gave a little whine, and Astarion squeezed his own eyes shut.

They burned, knowing there wasn’t anything to be done, about the past. He couldn’t undo the death of Sekh’s family, just as the drow couldn’t undo two centuries of torture.

“I have you,” Astarion whispered, rocking slightly. Sekh didn’t answer, just held tight to Astarion. The vampire rubbed his back, let the minutes drag on endlessly, until the drow’s breathing had calmed down. When Sekh finally pulled back slightly, lifted his head, his eyes were slightly red, wet streaks on his cheeks.

The maw in Astarion opened wider.

“I’m being pathetic,” Sekh whispered, repeating what he’d said only minutes ago, “I just… I don’t want to see Arabella going through this. I don’t want to see anyone go through this.” Astarion reached up, thumb rubbing along one tear streak, and Sekh turned, pressed a kiss to his palm. “I never mourned them. Not for more than a few moments, in the night. I just… kept going.”

Astarion pressed his forehead to Sekh’s. He understood that feeling, too deep in his very soul. He’d never mourned who he was, all he lost- all that Cazador ripped from him.

He’d never felt like he needed to. But sitting here, with his drow falling apart in his arms- he realized perhaps he did.

“Someday,” Astarion offered, “when this is done. You can mourn.” He paused, closed his eyes, and silently added-

And I will too.

Sekh nodded, before he reached up, covered one of Astarion’s hands. And, echoing the vampire’s own words, whispered, “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Astarion had to smile, and when Sekh kissed him, he fell into it eagerly. Reassuring, soft movements of his mouth that made Astarion dizzy, his body vibrating with a level of affection he didn’t know he could harbor. He swore he could experience every emotion within the span of a breath, with this man.

Astarion tipped his head, tried to kiss Sekh deeper, wanted to crawl inside his bones, inhabit every empty space inside him. If there were no empty spaces, perhaps he’d forgot his losses, for even a moment.

Astarion pulled at Sekh, let himself fall backwards. The drow followed him, covered his body as Astarion laid out in the damp sand, getting his hands into Sekh’s hair, wanting to free it completely. The kisses still held an almost innocence to them, even as Sekh teased Astarion’s lower lip with his teeth, as the vampire pushed his tongue into his mouth.

It felt so good, to simply kiss, be kissed, with no expectations.

Sekh pulled back slightly, and Astarion tried to chase him, didn’t want him to stop. But the drow chuckled, offered him the sweetest smile. “You’re very good at making me feel better,” he admitted. “Thank you.”

No one had ever told Astarion that he’d made them feel better- let alone thanked him, for how he made them feel. It was strange, to try to fix the pain someone was feeling, instead of being the cause.

Unsure what to say, if there even was anything to say, Astarion was happy to accept another kiss from the drow. He was falling back into it, grasped at Sekh’s now free hair, at his back, thinking he’d like the man to kiss him until his lips were numb-

But then that clawing hunger in his belly raked its talons along his insides. Astarion winced, felt his belly seizing up on itself, and Sekh broke the kiss, looking down at him with concern. Astarion damned himself then- because he hadn’t been done being thoroughly, fully, irrevocably kissed by this man.

“It’s nothing,” Astarion whispered, even as his stomach grumbled like that of a child’s. Gods, it hadn’t done that since he’d first gotten used to the hunger, to starving.

It seemed that now that he knew what it was like to be satiated, his body was determined to make his hunger everyone’s problem.

Sekh sat up, and Astarion begrudgingly followed. “You need to feed,” Sekh said, pushed his sleeve up, ready to bare his wrist. And as tempting as the man’s blood always was, Astarion couldn’t imagine taking from him, just then.

Besides, he was so hungry, he feared his control. And the last thing he wanted to do on this gods forsaken plane was hurt the drow.

He refused to dwell on that thought.

He shook his head, pushing Sekh’s wrist away. “No,” he said, as the drow raised his brows in confusion. Hating to admit it, Astarion added quietly, “I need more than that.”

Sekh nodded in understanding, before he suddenly grinned, nearly jumping to his feet. The sudden switch felt like whiplash- but oh, the drow did seem quick to change emotions. He reached for Astarion, and the elf let him pull him to his feet. “Leave it to me,” he said, and Astarion gave him a questioning look. Sekh just kissed his cheek affectionately. “Can you wait a bit longer?”

Astarion nodded. He’d starved for near two centuries- what was one more night?

Astarion waited back at camp, happy to recline by his tent, flipping through a book. Shadowheart had pillaged a few from one of the abandoned homes they found, before making it into the shadow cursed lands, and had insisted Astarion read this one.

It was filthy, and rather hilarious at how poorly it was written.

He hadn’t seen her, since their return from the House of Healing- and he considered perhaps seeking her out. She had been in a bad way, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, all of this band of little freaks meant something to him, now.

He hadn’t even closed the book, however, when Karlach popped into his space, positively grinning. She had some blood on her armor, sweat on her brow- but she was in better spirits than when she had gathered Astarion up from the inn.

“..Yes?” he asked. He could feel the energy rolling off her.

“Come with me,” she said, “your man has something for you.”

Astarion scoffed- but would have flushed, had he had the blood in his system. He closed the book, setting it aside and standing, following Karlach through the camp, around Last Light. They made their way down the side of the building, and then under, to a cellar door. Karlach paused, as Astarion reached for the door. He looked back at her, and her grin only grew. It had to hurt her cheeks.

“Pretty sure this party is invitation only,” she said, “but enjoy.” She winked, before turning on her heel, leaving Astarion alone.

He pushed the door open, let himself into the large basement, far too curious for caution- not that it seemed warranted. He was a few paces in when he could hear heavy breathing, pained and frustrated little grunts.

He paused, glanced into one of the open rooms, and felt his blood suddenly running hot.

Sekh was standing in the center of the room, lit by torches, his foot on the back of a half orc, keeping him pinned to the ground. In one hand he held a rope, pulled taut, bound around the man’s wrists, against his back as well.

His hair was completely free, and he looked almost terrifying in the flickering light, a wicked smile on those sinful lips, his eyes dancing. But Astarion was anything but afraid.

“What have you done?” Astarion asked, not moving into the room. His voice danced with amusement, and Sekh’s smile only grew.

“Consider it an offering.” He dug his foot harder into the man’s back, and the half orc cursed. “I’ll never let you starve, Starshine.” Astarion felt a familiar giddiness, in his belly. He took a few steps closer, eyes taking in every twitch of Sekh’s body, every flicker of his eyes. The shortsword at his side was still bloodied, and Astarion could hear his pulse, slightly elevated- smell the sweat on his skin.

He was salivating, his fangs aching into his gums- at the prospect of blood, yes- but also from the power that Sekh seemed to radiate, in that moment. He was ethereal.

The half orc spouted more curses, thrashing. He cursed Sekh, had a few colorful words to share about his drow blood- and Sekh just clicked his tongue, moved his boot to the man’s neck and pressed, cutting off his air for a moment.

“I thought about delivering him dead so you wouldn’t have to hear him- but I thought this might be preferred.” Astarion dropped down to his knees, and Sekh moved his foot off the half orc, kicked him so he rolled over. The man’s cultist robes were torn, dirtied. Astarion cast a glance up at Sekh, feeling as if this wasn’t real.

There had to be a trick, someone pulling strings, ready to take away the promise of freedom from the hunger. But Sekh just looked at him affectionately, and whispered, “feed, my love.”

Astarion pushed at the half orc’s head, bared his throat, and opened his mouth so wide it ached. He sank his fangs into the man’s warm skin, felt him thrash. As he did Sekh pulled on the ropes binding him, and said almost soothingly, “hush, it’ll be over soon.”

Astarion felt his pulse spike, his body shake over that. He bit harder, before he pulled his fangs back, the man’s pulse flooding his mouth with blood. He drank eagerly, swallowing mouthfuls as the cultiusts’s thrashing calmed, the life draining from his quickly.

Astarion bit a second time, opening his neck further, felt blood trickling down his chin. He grasped at the man desperately, his body humming with delight over being fed. He felt heat beginning to radiate under his own skin, his mind clearing.

He heard Sekh drop down next to him, felt the drow’s hand rubbing along his back. Astarion shoved at the man’s body, rolling him onto his back properly, and climbed over him, pinning him down as he went for his throat, tearing in for a third bite. The cultist barely gave a noise, his pulse quickly fading. He’d be dead very soon.

The hand on his back moved to his hair, and Astarion writhed in sheer ecstasy, body thrumming with a fiery energy. Sekh’s fingers tangled in his curls, as Astarion heard the half orc’s final, pathetic death rattle.

It didn’t matter- he would still bleed.

The vampire lifted his head, gasping for an unneeded breath. He glanced at Sekh, who was simply watching him, eyes utterly enraptured.

It made Astarion feel beautiful, even in the most grotesque moment.

He pushed himself up on his knees, leaving the deadman to lie for a moment, and reached for Sekh, gripped his chin, his hair, and pulled him close. The drow’s breathing was quick, and Astarion felt it against his wet lips for a moment, before he kissed him. Sekh didn’t shy away from the blood on Astarion’s lips, tongue- he groaned, hands reaching for his waist, holding tight as Astarion pushed his tongue into his mouth, forced the drow to taste the offering he’d given him.

He felt Sekh tremble, and Astarion pulled him closer, until his lover was flush to him. The desire to simply crawl into Sekh’s bones was burning hotter than ever- and Astarion couldn’t explain it-

Except, in that moment, he felt safe.

Sekh finally pulled back, gasping for breath, eyes dilated, his lips smeared red. Astarion knew the half orc’s blood was all over his own mouth, chin- hell, he could feel a rivet had made its way down his neck.

The drow licked his own lips, and Astarion groaned, didn’t even try to muffle the noise. “Darling, wicked man,” he breathed, and Sekh gave him a smile to match. Astarion reached up then, pushed at his upper lip with his thumb, saw the confusion flash on Sekh’s face. “Just looking for your hidden fangs,” he mused, “I’d swear you have a taste for blood just as strong as my own.”

Sekh flicked his tongue against Astarion’s thumb, and Astarion felt heat coiling in his belly, his groin. He pulled his hand back, glanced down at the man still beneath him. There was still so much blood in him.

Sekh’s hands squeezed at his waist, signaling him to move. Astarion crawled off the man, watched as rolled the man enough to free his wrists from the rope bindings. Sekh shoved the arm of the man’s robe up, exposing his arm. He pulled out a small knife, before he sat back on the ground, an inviting space between his legs, against his chest opening.

Astarion crawled over him, didn’t need to be asked. He settled with his back to Sekh’s chest, was enveloped in his heat, the scent of his skin, the hum of his pulse. Sekh offered the half orc’s arm, which Astarion took, as Sekh sliced the tip of his knife into his skin, opening a new wound. Blood welled to the surface, and Astarion pulled it to his mouth, greedily drinking it in.

Sekh kissed his curls as he drank, an arm curling around him, holding him. Astarion relaxed back against him, closed his eyes as he reveled in the feeling of being full, satiated- and yet still drinking. He was almost dizzy with the feeling.

Sekh’s hand splayed on his belly, rubbed gently, and Astarion knew that hand could easily slide lower, settle between his legs, bring a second ecstasy to this sordid moment. He almost wanted it, badly-

But Sekh’s hand stayed firm. “More?” Sekh asked, as Astarion pulled from the man’s arm, mouth open, bloodied fangs glistening. The deadman’s blood flow had slowed considerably.

Astarion wasn’t sure if he could fit more blood in him- and yet he wanted it. He wanted to drink until his stomach ached. He had never been allowed to do that- and on the blood of a thinking creature…

Astarion dropped his head back against Sekh’s shoulder, wordlessly. Sekh got his other arm around him, fingers continuing to dance along his belly.

The hunger was startlingly, beautifully silent.

“I don’t think I can,” Astarion admitted, after long, silent minutes passed. How had Cazador ever indulged on all of those victims? Astarion didn’t think he could ever fully drain a single person.

Even thinking his old master’s name flooded Astarion with the dreadful feeling, again, that Sekh would have been the perfect spawn. That Cazador would have unhinged his jaw and devoured this man like a fucking serpent, would have reveled in his bloodlust, his charm.

Would have broken him in the most ugly of ways.

Astarion closed his eyes, forced the thoughts away. He didn’t want to tarnish this moment, the sheer sliver of utter perfection that shouldn’t have existed. But he must have tensed, because Sekh was slowly guiding him to sit up, so that Astarion could twist in his lap, open his eyes, meet the drow’s stare.

The silent question of what he was thinking, what thoughts were running rampant in the vampire’s head.

Astarion ran his tongue along his fangs, thought to simply sit in silence. Sekh’s silence was proof enough that the man wasn’t going to ask, even if he was curious as to what was going on inside Astarion’s head.

And yet- “You would have been the perfect spawn.” He said it slowly, quietly, as if the words were knives, were slicing open his cheeks, his gums with each annunciation. “He would have loved you, loathed you, ruined you.”

Astarion didn’t need to say who, and he was thankful for that. Uttering Cazador’s name felt like blasphemy, in that moment.

Sekh hummed, before he tipped Astarion’s chin up. “Astarion,” he said, carefully, “he won’t have me.”

Of course the drow would know the nameless, aching fear that swarmed in Astarion like wasps. Of course the vampire wouldn’t need to say the words, to speak the terror into existence like a hex- Sekh simply knew.

He knew Astarion far more than the vampire felt anyone ever had, in such a short time.

Sekh pressed a soft kiss to Astarin’s forehead. “And he’ll never have you again.”

It felt like it should be an empty promise. It felt like Astarion should laugh bitterly, sob, because no one could promise that.

Yet, he found himself relaxing, found himself seeking out Sekh’s mouth for a slow, languid kiss. Found the fear quieting.

Found he believed the drow.

The silence in the room settled over Astarion, broken only by the sweet, wet sounds of Sekh’s kisses. The man drank down the war of two centuries, replaced it with something far sweeter, that Astarion swore he was drifting into a new realm, somewhere timeless, ageless, endless.

When Sekh finally pulled back, Astarion swore his lips were nearly numb, tingling slightly.

The man studied Astarion, before he smiled, reached up and traced Astarion’s lips with a single finger. Astarion opened his mouth without hesitation, just enough for Sekh’s fingertip to slip past his lips. The drow pressed the pad of his finger to one fang, and Astarion felt the suddenly bloom of a few droplets on his tongue.

He groaned, couldn’t stop himself, and Sekh’s eyelids were heavy as he whispered, “I want my blood to always be the last you taste.”

Astarion would never argue that. The subtle sweetness, heavy and decadent, coated his tongue- and even just a few drops felt like a feast.

Sekh had sent Astarion back to camp alone- told him he would take care of the remains of his meal. He’d wiped his face on his own robes, teased him about being a messy eater, and Astarion may have stolen a few more kisses- as many as the drow would give him, before he was chased off.

Camp was fairly quiet- most of his companions having turned in for some rest. He spotted Karlach still up, stretched out, studying the blackened sky above- she lifted her head when she heard his footsteps, and just gave him a knowing little smile.

He made his way to Sekh’s tent, not his own, and settled outside it, sighing softly. His belly ached slightly, but not unpleasantly so. He was feeling drowsy now, as if he could fall into his trance at a moment’s notice- asif he could almost find sleep without the help of an angel’s kiss.

He closed his eyes, wasn’t sure how long he sat there, drifting in nothing- but he came back to himself when he heard hushed speaking. He cracked his eyes open, stood up slowly, moving around Sekh’s tent-

And found the drow sitting on the ground with Arabella, the young tiefling looking at the short sword that Sekh had placed in her lap. “This was my mother’s,” he said, as Arabella carefully touched the edges, just soft enough not to cut. “She died with it in hand- it’s the only thing I have of her.”

Astarion watched as Arabella reached up, rubbed at one of her eyes. Her cheeks were tear stained still. “I don’t have anything of mom and pops…”

Sekh stood up then, whispered something to her, and left the sword in her hands. When he turned towards his tent, he saw Astarion, and flashed him a small smile, walking over. He didn’t say a word, just brushed a hand along his arm, before he ducked into his tent, returning a moment later and heading back for Arabella.

He crouched down and held out a small chain, a locket dangling from it. Astarion didn’t recognize it, but Arabella’s eyes lit up and the sword fell from her lap as she took it, clutched it in her hands.

“You do now,” Sekh said, “I think your mother gave us that just to keep it safe for you, one day.” He reached out, smoothed Arabella’s hair back. “It’s going to hurt for a long time, but I promise- someday, it’ll get better.”

Arabella nodded, and Sekh wrapped her in a tight hug, held her quietly. Astarion turned then, afraid of intruding, and let himself into the drow’s tent, sitting on his bedroll. He didn’t have to wait long before Sekh let himself in. He sat down next to Astarion, and said, maybe more to himself than to the vampire, “She’ll be alright.”

Astarion leaned against Sekh’s shoulder. “So,” he said, “you have mommy’s sword?”

Sekh chuckled, dug his elbow into Astarion at the little tease. The vampire smiled. “Yes, I do. And I’m terrible with it compared to her. She’d have my head.” Sekh shifted, before he added, “Thank you, by the way. For earlier.”

Astarion glanced up at him, but Sekh was just staring forward.

“I’d like to mourn, someday,” he finally said, and quietly added, “with you. I think I feel safe enough to finally acknowledge everything, if you’re there.”

Sekh reached over, took one of Astarion’s hands, tangled their fingers together. The vampire squeezed his hand, and whispered in near silence, I’d like that.

He felt safe enough to mourn the loss of his first life too, with Sekh. Felt like he could perhaps feel the grief and not let it overcome him.

They sat there in silence, for another few minutes, fingers locked together, before Sekh let go, reached into his robes. When he pulled his hand out it was closed, quite obviously having something nestled into his palm.

“I thought this was a good idea earlier,” Sekh said, before he cleared his throat, “but now I feel a bit like an idiot.” He opened his hand, and Astarion saw a set of rings, sitting there. Aged gold, a stone that resembled cool, placid water. “I found them,” Sekh added, glancing away, “earlier. In the House of Healing and the cemetery. Separate but so close.” He turned to face Astarion, let one drop to his lap as he held the other, lifting Astarion’s hand.

The vampire watched, his heart hammering, hammering, and then stopping, as Sekh slid it up over his middle finger. It fit too well.

“Whoever they were,” Sekh offered, “they were so close to each other’s embrace. Maybe they knew that even apart, even dying, they were still together.”

He let go of Astarion’s hand, and the vampire lifted it, studying the old ring, as Sekh picked up the other, placed it on his own middle finger. This had been what the warlock had found, when he’d been sifting through those bones.

It should have been ridiculous, it should have been too much- but Astarion felt his eyes burning, realized he wanted to sob.

“I just want you to know,” Sekh said, as he took Astarion’s hand again, kissed his knuckles, “that you’re safe now. That I’m here. And…” Sekh took a slow, steadying breath. “I’m going to take care of you, no matter what happens.”

Astarion surged forward then, wrapped his arms around the drow’s neck, kissed him. He squeezed his eyes shut, told himself over and over and over that he wouldn’t break-

But a single tear slipped past his silver lashes, and he prayed to every god that had never listened that Sekh wouldn’t notice. That he wouldn’t see just how desperately Astarion needed him- because it was terrifying, to suddenly have something so precious that could be ripped away.

And Astarion wanted to believe Sekh, down in the depths of his soul- but something inside Astarion gnawed at him, whispered cruelly that this man was too good, and there was no way this could last.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #sekh'met #sekstarion #tavstarion #astarion/the dark urge #astarion x tav

8 notes · View notes

paintedkinzy-88 · 2 years

Text

I gave myself a rest day to finish another ref sheet wheeeze.

I have four more weeks of this quarter, this is the last you’re getting for a while.

Probably.

Most likely.

Dream, Guardian of Positivity

Full Dragon Form Reference

Half Dragon Form Reference (WIP)

Dragon Breath:

None

General Abilities:

• Dream keeps all of his usual abilities

- General positive aura and empathy

- Teleportation

- Healing, though it take a lot of energy

- Summoning minor bone attacks

- He can still change his staff into blades/a bow, along with summoning arrows, but it’s pretty much impossible to utilize as a dragon (hard to hold anything with paws) so he doesn’t ever do it

• Though he cannot fly, he has very long, light, and graceful leaps that can almost simulate such, if done right

• The glow effect of his mouth, eyes, and ecto makes for a great nightlight/flashlight in dark spaces

• With a little training, he’s able to utilize his claws and fangs in a battle, as well as his tail in a whip or tentacle like fashion

- Alongside that, his lengthy body and tail makes it easier to peacefully restrain enemies in a fight

Hoard:

For longer than Dream really would admit, he’s felt drawn towards comfort items like blankets, pillows, and plushies. The very first of his hoard was the cape that Nightmare fashioned for him long before the Apple Incident. That gift, given to him during a thunderstorm and while he was struggling with his self worth and fatigue (both caused by the villagers), meant the absolute world to him. It was comforting, meaningful, and showed that someone cared about him, so his instincts latched onto it.

During their time pre-corruption, Dream was unable to properly hoard anything. He either could not afford items he wanted, or people would turn down his requests. He had a few blankets and pillows, all of which were shared with Nightmare at the time, but was otherwise stuck in an uncomfortable funk. After waking up from his stone prison and moving in with Ink, Dream was able to indulge himself far more often, to the point that he thought he actually had a problem. He tried to hide it all in closets, cupboards, and drawers.

After finding out about their dragon instincts, Dream’s far more open about his hoard (even if still a little embarrassed). He’s collected anything from cute pillows at the store, to his friends’ jackets and sweaters. Hiding it all is no longer necessary. Instead, he keeps it in either his room, Nightmare’s, or Killer’s, though some of it does usually end up in others’ bedrooms as well. He finds his hoard is great for cuddling when someone he cares about feels down, and has little shame on dragging anyone to his “nests.”

Extra Info:

• Nightmare is not his biological brother - they had a brother-like relationship, but neither really considered each other as such.

• Dream has taken many items from Error’s stash of blankets and pillows (with permission of course), to the point that Error will occasionally get something specifically for Dream’s hoard, just so he won’t take anything else from his pile.

• A major design change from the original post is the addition of slight fur on Dream’s ecto. It’s hardly noticeable because it’s so short, but it has the softest texture. At times, in cuddle piles, it’s hard to tell the difference between what’s a really soft pillow and what’s Dream’s fur.

- Added onto that, though his tongue is slightly forked, it’s also barbed like a cat’s. It makes it very easy to get dirt out of his fur, but he never uses it for that because he thinks it’s gross. That doesn’t mean that he hasn’t instinctually gone to clean his paws before (or, on occasion, someone else’s face), only to stop immediately and gag at the taste.

• Nightmare tearing his cape was one of the worst pains he had ever felt. He’s forever grateful for the Stars’ help in refashioning it so it wasn’t completely ruined, but he’s still deeply saddened by the fact that it’s much shorter now.

• Though his ecto glows with the positivity around him, it does not typically react to his own feelings. He could stand in a crowd of happy people while feeling absolutely depressed, and still shine like a glow stick. Whether this is a result of repressing his emotions for far too long, or just how his magic works, he isn’t sure.

• He really wants to make a second crown for this form, since his usual circlet does not fit as a dragon. It’s currently still a work in progress, but he does eventually get one.

#unlike Nightmare’s design #i actually paid closer attention to Dream’s bone anatomy #and suffered for it Omg #it’s a lot harder to do when I can’t cover a lot of it in goop lmfao #undertale #undertale multiverse #dragon balance au #undertale fanart #undertale au #dreamtale #dream sans #dream!sans #dreamtale sans #dream sans fanart #dreamtale fanart #character ref sheet #reference sheet #dragon design

228 notes · View notes

meximango · 8 months

Text

Day 13 - check - G - Luvon + Nero

Luvon tests something.

Three polite raps sounded at his office door--or the frame, anyway, since the door was wide open.

He knew who it was even before that soothing voice reached him. Most people barged right in even if the door was closed with a 'do not disturb' sign taped to the front in big red letters, because he worked with a bunch of rude ingrates with no sense of decorum or ability to read, apparently. Only one shining star of a coworker bothered knocking even when the door was open, would wait for permission to converse. Nero could kiss him for it (he wouldn't, because it may startle the poor anxious soul, but he had thought about it more than he'd care to admit).

"Good evening, Nero. May I come in?"

Luvon stood in the hall, patiently waiting outside the room entrance with a small smile on his face. He waved as Nero turned around, his chair squeaking loudly as it swiveled--note to self, use the squeaking to annoy the hells out of Cid when he next comes by.

Luvon had opted to wear shades today, the very same Nero had made for him after discovering his extreme sensitivity to light. It always filled the garlean with pride to see his inventions being put to good use. Luvon was able to go much longer these days before needing to don his usual blindfold. The lenses were polarized with a new technique he'd developed and specially crafted to filter out gaudy spell effects too, rendering them nearly invisible. They even lessened screen fatigue! Nero had a matching pair on, partial as he ever was to wearing sunglasses indoors. They made him look cool.

"Of course, Freckles. You're always welcome." Unlike certain someones that need not be named, lest it summon him. He motioned him forward, and Luvon acquiesced. "Now, what brings you here? Need my expertise on something?"

"In a sense, yes." Luvon pitter-pattered into the room, steps so light they could barely be heard. He stopped a few films away. With Nero sitting down, they were almost eye to eye. A rare viewpoint.

"Well? You were right to come to me, I am the obvious choice." If he wasn't the first pick, he'd need to up his game.

Luvon's smile shifted, suggesting he was holding back a huff of laughter. Not too strange; Luvon found Nero amusing, which was just another of his charm points: a sense of good taste. "It is an answer only you can provide, in fact."

Nero preened. He was terrifyingly smart, true, but something only he could answer? Whatever could it be? "Don't keep me in suspense, then!"

Luvon stepped closer.

Then closer still.

If he kept going, they'd end up nose to nose, and Nero would have a lap full of the other. Certainly not unwelcome, but he was getting confused now.

"May I touch you?" He tilted his head to the side sweetly, innocently. His hands were held behind him to appear less threatening--not that the guy who barely came up to his elbow had to worry about that, Nero couldn't imagine ever being scared of the soft soul in front of him.

Wait. Back up.

Touch him? Yes. Please do. Whatever for?

"Whatever for?"

"I need to check something. I already know the answer, but I promised to get evidence to confirm."

He was curious enough to go along with it. "I am all for the scientific method. So long as it won't hurt, touch away, shorty." He held his arms out and added, "My body is yours to examine." He grinned and winked, despite his eyes being hidden by the barrier of their two pairs of shades, so there was no way the other would know that.

Luvon, despite his appearances and general anxieties, was not shy. And in fact he was a very touchy-feely individual naturally. A pat on the elbow here, squeeze of the fingers there, etcetera. He was tactile and had stopped asking in general after the Ironworks crew gave him blanket permission, as his eyesight was still poor even with the aid of spells, tonics, or shades--though not so much that he needed a cane--and touch could be useful to orient himself.

All this to say that Nero didn't expect the man to blush. His grin only widened at that; maybe his feelings were reciprocated after all. Certainly something to look into later.

Luvon nodded, then leaned in.

Waitisthisactuallyhappening--

Instead of faces meeting, the other turned his head and ducked down to press one fuzzy ear to Nero's chest. A bit disappointing, but still nice. Still much closer tysn expected, nearly intimate. A pointer and index finger pressed to his neck where his pulse point was, pressure firm but claws gentle.

It took a lot of effort to keep his heartbeat steady--wouldn't do to trigger doctor mode out of the other, and it'd be embarrassing to explain why his heart was racing. He'd have to spell it out, Luvon surprisingly bad at figuring feelings out when he was the primary target of them. No thanks, not ready for that conversation yet.

After a moment, Luvon spoke again, taking away his hand, though he kept his head where it was. The rumble of his voice vibrated pleasantly through Nero's chest. "Mhmm. It is just as I expected."

"Yeah?"

"Indeed. You do have a heart. There it is, beating just fine." Luvon pulled back, giving his chest a few pats for good measure.

Nero was taken aback. Before he could find his words again, Luvon continued.

Well, he giggled, first. Honestly giggled. "I apologize, Nero, but this was a rather silly setup of a joke. Cid bet earlier that you did not have one, so I volunteered to get proof."

Nero groaned. Of all the ridiculous jokes. Of course Luvon would follow up literally. "Of course Garlond was involved. You tell that idiot--"

"I am certain he would rather hear it from you," Luvon interrupted him. Fair. His rants and creative insults about Cid could go on a while once he got started, best served personally for their colorful language and nuanced delivery. "But the next time he suggests you are lacking in a heart, I will remind him of my hard evidence to the contrary."

Nero did laugh at that, finally. "I'd love to see the look on his face of you defending me. Can't wait, really. Where is the old grump?"

"How fortuitous, then, we are going out to get dinner soon. You can accompany us!"

Oh, and a chance to ruin Garlond's date night, one he'd never be invited to if Cid hadn't put Luvon up to such a ridiculous joke of a challenge? His name day had come early.

"It would be my pleasure, Freckles. Lead the way." He held his arm out and Luvon took it as the invitation it was, hooked his own arm around his elbow as they left the room, merrily chatting all the way.

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxivwrite #luluvon luvon #nero tol scaeva #ffxiv oc #mango writes #ooof this one is a bit. idk. writing on phone suuuuuuucks lol.#pre ot3 ohoho. nero can be a pining guy bc i said so #luvon : this a totally fun lighthearted joke and not an excuse to touch that soaghetti noodle of a man #nero wouldnt be offended at luvon . no that is all going to cid. this dinner is going to get them kicked out the restaurant #no beta we die like loiusoix

4 notes · View notes

amelikos · 5 months

Text

Some character notes and episode notes for HZ029, writing them down for future reference.

Roy getting scolded for making a hole in the wall really felt "kid-like" which was nice to see! Roy usually doesn't cause trouble so him playing inside the ship and breaking stuff really shows he is a kid.

Friede telling Roy "didn't you have something to ask" before Roy asks Karna about the Ancient Pokeball is a small moment I really like too. It feels like Friede is giving Roy permission to ask, which is the polite thing to do, instead of Roy just doing so himself. Really like how the series is aware of stuff like that and it shows through in these moments.

Karna making her own Pokeballs was cool to see too. I don't really remember seeing anime only Pokeballs before. I wonder what kind of Pokeball was the one she gave to Orio at the end? We got names for the ones Roy used, but not the one she gave as a parting gift. I wonder if Liko kept the one she was holding too.

Everyone on the ship blaming each other for asking too much from Orio was fun. Mollie is the one pointing out that Orio needs to relax every now and then, it shows how close they are.

I enjoyed Orio and Karna bonding over their passion for their respective crafts. Also liked that the possibility of Orio taking up Karna's offer wasn't played as a misunderstanding with everyone hearing about it or trying to dissuade Orio. Liko heard their conversation and worried about it and subtly tried to know about Orio's feelings about being on the ship by asking her if she was having fun every day. In the end though, the choice was all Orio's and she declined Karna's offer on her own accord.

Horizons depicting older characters struggling with their paths or questioning their lives has been really nice so far. We had Mollie talking about it to Liko in HZ011, then Friede revealing his past in HZ018, and now Orio. Orio was content but felt something was missing in her life and Friede's words made her realize that she wanted to test her abilities which is why she accepted trying to build the Brave Asagi in the first place. Liko got to bond with Orio like she did with Mollie, and sees shades of herself in the women around her. Liko got her sense of adventure from her grandmother. Mollie drew parallels between her experiences and Liko's by bringing up the fact that she didn't know what she wanted to be when she was younger. Orio admits that she wanted to do things she had never done before by going on a journey on the Brave Asagi, and points out that it must be the same thing for Liko. It's really good and I like that Liko gets to have these talks with them.

Friede found a way to calm down the Pokemon by taking into account their characteristics. I like when he shows why he is a Professor with his quick thinking and knowledge.

Friede and Orio's dynamics is great. Friede completely trusts Orio and knows how to ignite her spirit (the callback to "can you do it?" was cute), and in turn she holds the same amount of trust towards him and knew that he probably had something up his sleeve. She didn't even question him because she knows him that much. It's also cute that Orio seems to have her moments of "oh, didn't I tell you?" like Friede. Really shows how they go back a long way. Even Karna knew that Orio would decline her offer to work with her because she saw how Orio talked about Friede (and probably guessed that Orio would want to keep traveling with him, and the others).

I hope Orio and Karna will keep in touch. They get along so well, so it'd be nice if they sent each other messages every now and then.

Also, little moments of Nyahoja and Terapagos playing together are cute... they are getting closer little by little.

I don't know if this was ever confirmed before this, but Orio's Elekid was credited in this episode and it turns out his VA is Horie Shun (Amethio's VA).

#hz029 #character notes #episode notes #orio #liko #karna #friede

5 notes · View notes

sharonrb · 1 year

Text

Death is only the Beginning Pt2

Disclaimer: If any characters resembles any of those in BP2WF; because maybe they are. They story has been altered due to the imagination of the author. Fanfic and all in fun.

Enjoy

A continued of pt1

Chapter Fourteen

Wakanda spent the last week or so rejoicing for the return to life of their Queen Ramonda; whom they thought had been dead. Along with them, the Talokanils celebrated a milestone for their kingdom. It was the first time in five hundred years and since the birth of their kingdom; they crowned themselves a Queen.

Finally, their ruler K’uk’ulkan found himself someone to marry and share his throne. It was the last night of festivities by tradition for the Wakandans; but it will continue for days to come. The Talokanils were still in their jubilee as the morning sun crept over the two worlds. But, unknowingly to them both, things have taken a turn for the worse.

“What do you mean the Queen is missing?” King M'Baku yelled to the top of his voice. Okoye bowed her head in submission. She had sought a private counsel with him, and wanted him to know first of the events that had occurred through the night and the morning.

“She’s gone and we have no idea her whereabouts, My King,” she told him. M’Baku had agreed to meet with her in a secluded place free from itchy ears. He knew it wasn’t going to be good news, but never in a million years did he expect this situation.

“Tell me everything,” he demanded. Okoye relayed to him what occurred the evening before, and earlier in the day. He allowed a growl to come through, releasing the tension building. This was not good!

Shuri’s mind kept replaying all that had come to pass and her reaction to her mother coming back from her night with Namor. Her mother informing her that she would be returning to Talokan and Namor. The Shaman had given her a potion swearing it would reverse the side effects from the previous in gestation of the heart shaped herb.

Shuri knew her mother wouldn’t take it willingly; she had embraced these knew abilities. She felt of she could convince her, but with Ramonda informing her she would be back with Namor, Shuri made a conscious decision to spice her mother’s tea.

Ramonda took a few sips, relaxing from the fresh air and Shuri’s company. Then she grabbed her head, her face distorting; she yelled out in such excruciating pain. Shiri jumped to her feet backing into the wall thinking; what had she done. Ramonda stood to her feet and with one last agonizing scream flew straight up and away. Okoye and Attuma came onto the scene in confusion. Then the appearance of Namor only made it worse with his announcement of the marriage between her mother and him.

“That damn Shaman,” she could have kicked herself. “Why would I listen to you. It was your recklessness in the first place that brought this about; by giving my mom the herb without consent or permission. You’re going to wish you hadn’t done it.” Shuri caught herself and calmed down. She has to bear some of the blame too. The Shaman didn’t force her to give it to her mother. Or neither would being angry help find her mother and bring her home.

Shuri began to ponder over something that’s nagging her. if the recreation of the potion to remove the Black Panther powers didn’t reverse the effects on her mother. Then maybe the enhancement is due to something else. Shuri walked over to the vial and began to study it, thinking scientifically and objectively. She had been too close to the problem to think straight.

Then her brilliant mind took over; she needed to get to her lab. That’s where she could work the best. She just needed to run some tests. She gathered what she needed and called for one of the planes. Right now, she has no idea if the concoction the Shaman gave her worked or not. She just hopes her mother is alright.

Namor came back to his dwelling and started tossing things about; in anger and silence. Attuma and Namora stayed on the outside for two reasons. First, to let him blow off his rage, and second to await his next command. Namor was very concerned because he has no idea what happened. What he did know it all lead back to Shuri. He didn’t know for sure what she did to Ramonda; but he has no doubt Shuri did something. Now he will have to break his people’s hearts. He could hear them still in festivities; they finally have a Queen of their own. But that is not the case now.

When Attuma had summoned and notified him Ramonda had disappeared; he swam like he never had before. He would have flown but Namora had demanded to come. Hope was in his heart Ramonda would be there once he arrived. It was not so, his fears manifested. Namor stood before a wall he had began another mural; one of Ramonda and his love story. How will it end?

Attuma and Namora heard him grow silent and knew he was in much pain. They wanted to get out there and find their Queen; and wondered why he was hesitating. Namor emerged from his room, subdued and walked over to the edge staring into the water.

“Prepare my people for the announcement. I will not keep this from them any longer.” He told them. “Then I will go to Wakanda to speak with King M'Baku. I need to know what are their plans to assist me in finding my Wife!” He turned and went back inside, never looking at either of them. They looked at each other knowing this was not good. They plunged into the water and headed for Talokan to gather the citizens to the meeting place.

Ramonda stood in the entrance of the cave, pressed against the frame. She stared out as she would the windows of the palace. Not much to see but the majestic mountains, unlike the beautiful capital city of Wakanda. She has a lot to process and decisions to make.

Months of being comatose, being giving the herb that gave the Black Panther their powers. And how did that happen, since the last she recalled; Killmonger had destroyed the plants. Maybe he missed one. No, they had searched diligently to save T'Challa; there were none. Evidently, they did discover more somehow. So, if they have the plant, and they used it on her. Then there has to be another Black Panther.

“What the---,” it dawned on her. The last thing she remembered, Namor and his people were attacking Wakanda. He flew to the throne room where she was with Riri. “Riri!” She remembered him throwing spheres of water at them, and they burst through the windows, exploding. She swam down to get the child who was unconscious and brought her to safety; then everything went black. She wondered, what happened after that? How did they rebuild Wakanda so fast? The biggest question of them all. How did they become allies with Talokan.

“The Talokanil are my people now, and I am their Queen.” She whispered. How will she be able to pull this off? It was not their fault Namor is who he is. They were so welcoming and full of joy to have a Queen, for the first time; since their kingdom came in to existence. If she went back to Talokan, she would have to pretend she was still with Namor; and that would be a lie. She could never be with him ever again. Never!

He seduced her, knowing she had no memory of what he had done. She recalled coming home from the banquet. He was there waiting for her, they talked and walked on the beach; he was so sad. He knew then, it was a possibility he could lose her; if her memories would return. But, he had a chance to tell her the truth; but he did not.

Instead, he took her to meet his people, knowing they would be ecstatic to have a Queen. He knew also she would fall in love with them. They made their commitment to stay yoga her before all of Talokan, binding them as long as they lived. He took her to his rooms; there he made passionate love to her. She was so happy and full of love for his people and him. She came to tell Shuri, she was his wife and Queen of Talokan. And that she was staying there, because they needed her more than Wakanda. But she didn’t get a chance!

Shuri gave her herbs, adding to what was already in her system. All for what? Was her hatred for Namor, greater than her love for her; that she would risk her life? She felt like a guinea pig being tested on all those months; and with Shuri’s betrayal. No one knows but her, what actually transpired the first time she was given the herb. It was frightening; even more now that she has regained her memories. Yes, great decisions have to be made.

Chapter Fifteen

After Okoye had enlightenment M'Baku of everything that happened, from the evening before and earlier that day. He shuddered at the fact; he would have to call another emergency meeting, with the council and Chieftains. His respect for T'Challa grew even greater; this was not an easy position. There was always something new to deal with.

At that moment, M’Baku stiffens; catching movement out the corner of his eye. He turns to see Namor approaching, not surprising! He needed to have a word or two with him, concerning the part he played in this debacle.

“I was wondering when you would come to meet with me,” M'Baku acknowledged his presence.

“We have much to discuss before you announce the disappearance of my Wife, Queen of Talokan,” Namor is straight to the point. M'Baku chuckled.

“Your wife?” He questioned. “And Queen of Talokan?”

“Why are you disputing what is a fact?” Namor held his anger; with M’Baku’s query of the validity, of the matter.

“I am not per say,” M'Baku took a seat on his throne. “What I am inquiring is, does Queen Ramonda feels the same. Now that is the question.” Namor stared at him, as the answer formulated in his brain.

“That I don’t know,” He replied as honestly as he could. The fact of the matter, he has know idea what is going through Ramonda’s mind. Or if she’s even alive; he knows nothing.

Okoye, Ayo and Aneka arrived ahead of the council. Okoye had already filled the two of them in on what was happening. She looked at Namor, then came to him. An unspoken understanding went between them. She went to take her place at the side of M'Baku. Ayo and Aneka were already in place. The council spilled into the room. Namor started towards the door.

“Namor,” M'Baku called out to him. Namor slowly turned around; the two stared each other in the eyes. “I would like for you to stay; after all, it is your wife and Queen of the Talokan whom we will be discussing. Your input will be greatly appreciated.” M'Baku gestured to the very chair he possessed; during the meetings with Queen Ramonda. Namor was surprised, but took the seat offered while the room erupted. M'Baku smirked; it was always a pleasure getting the council roused up. Namor grew a great admiration for M'Baku, he will truly rule Wakanda well.

Attuma was standing outside Namor’s quarters, when Namora came up. Namor informed him he was leaving, to go speak with King M'Baku concerning Queen Ramonda. Even though, it hadn’t been very long since her disappearance; the way she left in such excruciating pain, was alarming.

“K’uk’ulkan is not here?” She asked peering inside, searching for him.

“No, he left for Wakanda to talk their King; to see what they were doing to find our Queen,” he told her.

“That’s good and fine, but why are we depending on them to find her. She is our Queen,” Namora had a certain emotion in what she was expressing. This caused Attuma to take a double look. Is this the same Namora who was angry that Namor had yielded to the Black Panther? But now has a hint of desperation in her voice, for the new Queen.

“Namora, you sound as if I you care about the Queen,” he had a little chuckle, as he teased her.

“You joke at a time as this?” She snapped. “Don’t you understand? Our Queen is missing, Attuma! Our people our basically mourning now. And our K’uk’ulkan is miserable with the loss.” Attuma stood towering over her, with a serious demeanor enshrouding him.

“I understand quite well, Namora,” his voice low and deliberate. “The K’uk’ulkan and our kingdom in whole are sad, so yes I do. But I was wondering the attitude you are displaying. You didn’t want him with the Princess; but you accept her mother for him, as his wife and as our Queen?” Namora walked away from him and stared into the water.

“No, I did not feel the Princess was the right one for him or our people,” she told him. “But yes, the Queen is a Queen; she will love and protect us, just as our K’uk’ulkan has done. She is better suited for him; look how happy he is around her. We have never seen this in him since ever. So yes, I want her back in the worse way.” She ran and nosedive into the water, then swam away.

Attuma stood watching the ripples settle down, then laughed out loud. Could there be a surface dweller, their Namora could truly love and care about? This is astonishing. He couldn’t wait to pass this development along to Namor. He wasn’t sure about Namora accepting Ramonda, let alone as his wife and Queen. Well, Namor can rest on that problem and dwell on finding their Queen.

While Shuri was grieving over her mother’s flight and after she had given her the potion. There was something that lit up the corner of her brilliant mind. She just hoped she was on the right trail. After gathering some things that belonged to Ramonda, she went to the lab.

“Griot” Shuri called to him as she rushed into the lab, tossing things everywhere. “There is something I need help with.”

“Yes Princess, anything I can do I will,” he told her.

“Pull up the analysis of my recreation of the herb, and the one the Shaman gave my mother. Then analyze this sample I am going to give to you.” Shuri dropped what was left of the vial onto a slide, and pushed it into a compartment; then waited.

“Princess your recreation as we discovered; is not the same ingredients as that of the Shaman's. She added some other herbs, but they didn’t alter the outcome of what makes the Black Panther.”

“Yes, I just wanted to double checked if my mother was given the Black Panther serum. And see what was in the latest one I just gave to you?” Griot begins to analyze it.

“It’s different than the others. I’m detecting a rare flower plant, that hasn’t been used in Wakanda for decades. It was banned by the Shaman sect due to the after effects.” Shuri became alarmed.

“A rare plant? Banned for decades you say?” She asked.

“Yes Princess,” Griot replied.

“What were the side effect?” Shuri asked.

“After twenty-four hours of ingesting, they would go insane,” he informed her.

“Why would she do this,” Shuri recanted her statement. “Why would I ask? She fed her mother the Black Panther herb for months. I can’t deal with her right now. Griot, what was that particular plant used?”

“It actually was a type of memory elixir. It didn’t effect all but enough to cease using it.” So she was trying to help her mother regain her memory. Why didn’t she tell her the truth?

“Alright, I will take care of her later,” Shuri took a comb she had brought from home and pulled a strand of hair from it. Then she placed it on a slide, and pushed it inside a small drawer for Griot to analyze. “Alright Griot, what you see?”

“Very interesting,” Griot stated.

“What? What you see?” Shuri was frantic.

“This person has the X-gene; the Black Panther mixture triggered it. They are in full blown mutant stage.” Shuri’s jaw dropped. She figured as much, but needed for it to be confirmed.

“That’s why taking the serum had not effect. My Mother is a mutant!”

Ramonda came down on the shore near the hut. She felt out if anyone was there; she wasn’t ready for any confrontation. She needed more time to sort things out; too much was at stake. She moved closer seeing it was empty. Shuri most likely went to the lab. She had came to get some things to hold over until she returned; whenever that would be.

She retrieved a tote bag to carry whatever she could. The outfit she wore would not do. Shuri had some pants, maybe she could get a couple or so. She had lost weigh to next to Shuri’s size, if she could not fit them, she could always alter them. She saw Shuri’s jacket tossed across her bed. She picked it up and placed it to her nose, breathing in her daughter’s scent.

“Shuri!” She rubbed it against the side of her face. Tear filled her eyes. “Now that I remember you, I don’t want to see you right now. If I did my words would be too harsh, and it’s been enough separation between us. And I don’t want that; give me time.” Ramonda got herself together and grabbed what she could; then ran to the shore, only to stop abruptly.

“My Queen!” Namora exclaimed with great joy. Ramonda was stung beyond words. So much for get in and out, she thought to herself.

“Namora! What are you doing here?” She asked. Namora came closer to her. “We are all out looking for you.” Ramonda feared as much. She hates she’s hurting others, but if she doesn’t deal with this right now; it will be more painful later.

“Namora,” She said. “I need to figure some thins out. It has been so much to deal with, especially now that I got back my memory. “

“Oh,” Namora said quietly.

“Oh no, not like that. I remember everything, even last night with all of my Talokaniles. You all showered me with so much. I remember all of that.” Ramonda informed her. “This is one of the reasons I need to make some decisions. It’s not going to be easy for me. I have to be away from everyone that I love, so I can be with those that I love. Does that make sense?” Namora understood, so much has been done to the Queen.

“I do My Queen. We all love you. We want you home and safe.” Hearing this coming from Namora warmed her heart. She always felt Namora was the more standoffish. Ramonda walked up to her and pressed her face against the side of Namor's. If blue could blush it would be Namora.

“Thank you for all you said. You really don’t know how much I needed to hear that.” Ramonda wanted to cry, but kept her composure as Queen.

“What should I tell K’uk’ulkan?” Namora asked.

“I don’t want you lying to him. Just tell him what we discuss.” She told her. “It probably be a few days, then I will return.” Ramonda told her and flew high in the air, so when she made the turn towards the mountain; Namora couldn’t see it.

Chapter Sixteen

“Okoye, where are you?” Shuri asked, calling on her kimoyo beads.

“I’m in the throne room. We just finished speaking with the council and tribal Chieftains” she informed her. “They are aware of everything.”

“Good, no more secrets and lies,” Shuri says. “I need to share some findings; I discovered this morning with all of you.”

“I will let them know,” Okoye told her. “You want us there in your lab?”

“Yes, please,” Shuri expressed. “It’s easier to explain here.”

“Something you should know,” Okoye says.

“Yes?” Shuri braced herself.

“Namor attended the meeting, and remains here speaking with the King.” Okoye enlightened Shuri.

“Good, then I won’t need to summon him,” Shuri replied. “He has to hear this too.” Okoye was taken aback at how somber Shuri seemed; at the mention of Namor’s name. Now she was anxious to hear, what is so important.

Namora returned to Talokan and sought out Attuma; she had to notify him she had spoken to the Queen. She needed him to be her support; when she reveals this to Namor. She found Attuma playing their favorite pass time game with a few of his friends. Namora pulled him away, which didn’t please him at first; but he saw her distress and came with her.

“What’s wrong, Namora?” She took him to a place where they would not be heard by anyone. This needed to be confidential.

“I saw and spoke with the Queen,” she told him.

“This is good news, Namora,” Attuma yelled out in excitement. Namora tried to calm him.

“No, no it’s not Attuma,” she expresses. “She’s still gone.” Attuma stared at her bewildered.

“What? What do you mean she’s still gone?” his excitement turned to dismay.

“I went to the place the Princess and she lives, just by chance,” she begin to explain. “I was standing on the beach when she appeared; coming from their home. She was very surprised to see me there, and I also. But that changed, when she told me she remembers everything. She knows who she is, Attuma.” He was silence for just a moment; until all Namora had told him registered.

“That means she knows what K’uk’ulkan did, and the cause of all this trauma,” he looked to Namora.

“I’m afraid so,” she confirmed. “But she remembers all of us as well; with love. This is what is making it so hard for her; choosing the right path. She is truly our Queen, and she wants that to be known.”

“For us it sounds good, but for K'uk'ulkan it’s not,” he sighed loudly. Namora sadly agreed.

Shuri was going over her files on her mother, when M'Baku, Okoye, Ayo, Aneka and Namor entered. M'Baku could tell by her expression, they were not going to like what she had to say. He had come to consider her his little sister now. A promise to her brother, T'Challa. Namor was edgy with the uncertainty of what he was going to have to accept. Okoye, Ayo and Aneka waited patiently.

“Thank you all for coming,” Shuri was nervous. “While I was thinking about what happened, and my mother in so much pain that I inflicted on her for my own selfish reasons. I realized I was too close to the subject.”

“Subject, Princess?” Namor injected. “She is not some lab research; she’s your mother and my wife.”

“You don’t have to remind me of that, Namor,” She snapped. “Or the fact, it was your actions that generated this whole mess.”

“Alright! Alright you two! Let’s get on with it,” M'Baku demanded. Shuri turns around from facing them, exhaling; then slowly back to them.

“As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted,” she rolls her eyes at Namor; and he conveys a loud snort in response. Okoye, Ayo and Aneka look on; amused with the interaction of the two. “I ran some tests on a theory. The herb I recreated for the Black Panther and the one the Shaman gave my mother; were one in the same.”

“We know this, Princess,” Okoye came closer.

“True, but why did it not kill my mother; is the question needed to be answered.” She addresses her AI. “Griot, explained what you told me.” She told it. They all moved in front of the screen, to see what was being displayed.

“Queen Ramonda, at some point during her comatose; went into a death state. And when the elixir was administered; she was revived. The reason it was able to bring her back? Because she has what is known as the X-gene. Once this gene is activated; mutation occurs. The Queen is at this time in full generated mutant stage. She has been endowed with her powers; whatever they may be.” The room was silent, each lost in their own thoughts with what was revealed.

“You telling us, she is no longer human?” M'Baku asked, breaking the quiet. Namor took offense to M’Baku implications. But it didn’t hinder him from asking a question of his own.

“Can you explain, what caused her to suddenly fly off in pain?” Namor already knew that answer; Shuri had something to do with that. He felt this was the best time to get the bottom of it.

“It was something I gave her,” she finally admitted to him. His eyebrows furrowed. He knew it! “The Shaman said it would reverse the effects from the herb. I trusted her, but now I know she did it again.”

“Did what again?” M'Baku asked.

“My mom did die. Not initially, but when I saw her on the ancestral plane; she was gone. The Black Panther serum was given to her by the Shaman; activating the x-gene to initiate her into a mutant.”

“We need to deal with the Shaman; she did too much without authorization,” M'Baku looked at Okoye. She turned to Ayo, signaling for her to arrest the Shaman.

“Wait! If she had not taken the chance, Ramonda would not be among us. No matter in what state!” Namor reminded them. “Did not Shuri in desperation, do no differently?” They digested what he said.

“One other thing,” Shuri looked at each one. “The herb the Shaman gave to me was not the same herb, as the heart shaped,” she informed them.

“What?” M'Baku said.

“It’s a flower that was banned by the Shaman sect because of the side effects,” she explained.

“Princess, tell me it is not the plant for memory loss,” Okoye asked.

“Okoye, you know of this flower?” M'Baku asked.

“Yes, many years ago it was used to help those who suffered from memory loss in some forms.”

“Princess!” Namor came to her, she could see the fear in his eyes. “What are the side effects?”

“Only one, Namor,” she was gentle in replying to him, but nothing will soften the blow. “In twenty-four hours of ingesting it; the person goes insane. Not all have; but enough did that they chose to banned it.”

“What?!!” Namor was beside himself. He had heard enough, and left the room before they could notice he was gone.

“Twenty-four hours,” M’Baku paced the lab, thinking. “How do you find someone who doesn’t want to be?”

“With everything we have,” Okoye said and left also. Now there were four.

“We need to activate the Midnight Angels, come Aneka!” Then there were two.

“What good is being the Black Panther, when I can’t find my mother and save her?”

“Aww Shuri,” M'Baku walks to her and rests a hand on her shoulder. “You are one of the most brilliant minds around. Just like you figure your mother becoming a mutant; you will find her.” He left to expedite the search; time is of the essence. Shuri stood alone in the lab feeling hopeless.

“Princess?” Griot called to her.

“What Griot?” She stared at nothing in particular.

“What happens after the Queen is found?” Shuri thought about what he just said.

“What do you mean?” She asked. “We bring her home.”

“And then what? Watch her go insane?” Shuri realized what he was asking.

“We have to find something to counteract the plant,” Shuri sprung alive. “Let’s start with its make up. Maybe if we discover what is in it that causes the insanity; we could isolate it, and actually create a variant to aid in memory loss.”

“Exactly Princess,” Griot agreed.

“We don’t have much time,” she reminded him. “It’s going to be a long night.”

Ramonda arrived back at the cave she now calls her refuge; and placed the bag of supplies in a corner. A cool breeze flowed through from the outside; she saw she would need to start a fire. Luckily, she thought of grabbing a lighter. She wishes there were a door to shut, and curtail the cold. It was close to winter and the mountains were feeling it’s approach sooner than any other place in Wakanda. Soon they will be covered in snow. She would have to endure, there is none other place to conceal her whereabouts; and especially from Namor. She paused, hearing a noise coming from the entrance.

“What is going on?” She exclaimed, turning to see the opening had been sealed over. She slowly approached it, staring at what was once a exit, but now sealed. “Open up!” She yelled! At that very moment; it did as she commanded. The entrance became as it once had been. She began to inspect the walls not sure of what was happening; her mind racing. Could it be another one of her abilities; connected to the earth? She will have to figure what her powers were and how to control them. This time she willed it to close; then she returned to start a fire.

Ramonda pulled the bag in front of her, as she sat near the warm fire. Even with the protection of the wall in place of the opening to the cave; the brisk air could be felt. She brought out the blankets she had retrieved from the hut. Shuri won’t miss them; she can always have more delivered. Or better yet, she could just return to the palace.

Ramonda paused for a moment of reflection. She was very angry with Shuri for her part in this; but she was being sarcastic with what she had thought. Shuri is her little girl; her baby. Well, not exactly a baby anymore. With so much that has hit her; in such a short time. It would easily: have cause a person to make bad choices out of desperation. Her baby has grown into womanhood; and she was proud of the person Shuri had become.

Ramonda came across a mirror and peered into it; shocked at the person who gazed back. Someone a little younger than herself; but definitely her. Had to be at least twenty years younger. How did this happen? Is this another one of those side effects, from taking the heart shaped herb? If so, will she be going through, what that guy in the movies; Benjamin what’s-his-name did? He continued to grow younger and younger, until he became a baby; then he died? What’s happening to her?

Ramonda gathered her knees to her chest, and as sort of cushions; rested her head on her arms. She stared into the fire, watching the flame swaying in a seductive movement. Her mind reminiscences that fatal day her life ended. The day her husband; Namor threw those water grenades right at her, as she stood in the window. Right after he had tossed his spear into the window; right at her face at her. But the window only cracked.

Ramonda recalled the way he glared, because she pulled Riri behind her; as a protective mode. That sinister smile chiseled on his face. She saw him leave and knew he would return to deal the death blow. She told Riri to run, but children are children; Riri didn’t want to leave her side.

Namor came back as she knew he would, the windows exploded with the impact of the water bombs. Riri and her were thrown backwards, losing consciousness. She was able to come too quicker than Riri; she was sinking fast and needed to be saved.

Ramonda remembered making a crucial decision, she plunged deeper into the water to save someone’s drowning child. She struggled with the dead weight of Riri to get her to safety. It took all she had in her to get her out of the water, and onto the floor. Ramonda tried to pull herself up and along side Riri; and make a attempt to revive the child. But too much of her strength had been exhausted. She remembers sliding back into the water; it covering her face, then it all went black.

There was something else cloaked from her happened; prior to her waking up in the room, she now recognized as the Hall of the Shaman Sect. She didn’t remember anything or anyone, except the summer place she spent summers with Shuri. She made her way through the catacombs and by the river; until she saw Namor. No, she didn’t recognize him; but he knew her, and that was comforting. At that moment, her body quake all over with forcible tremors.

Did he devised this plan, once he realized her memories were lost? All the sweet gentle kindness he showed her; but plotting all along. Her tears stung her eyes, her heart ached. She felt violated! The man who killed her, let her fall in love with him. For what? She was no longer Queen of Wakanda, it does not make sense. What did he hope to gain making her his wife, and moreover; Queen of Talokan.

Why? To get an alliance? He had that. This was wrecking her brain. He gained nothing, unless there is a piece from this puzzle missing. But what wasn’t she getting? Namor was not complex then, nor is he now. He is always straight forward. People only get fooled when they paint him as this complicated person. But she knew then and knows now; Namor needs and wants are very direct.

Ramonda felt cozy secluded from the outside. She made a cot with her blankets before the fire; and laid down on it, resting her head on a pillow she had brought also. She continued to look at the flames at their sultriest dancing was almost hypnotic. She knew what it was that Namor wanted and needed, but she didn’t want to think about.

It’s insane to formulate in any words; but it’s classic Namor. When did he first developed the scenario in his mind? When did it hit him what he wanted; but above all needed? She had to know at what point, Namor decided he wanted and needed her as his wife; and the Queen of Talokan. Her head had begun to pound. Maybe a nap will help, she thought. Ramonda shut her eyes; seeking some equivalent to tranquility. She then found her peace and slowly drifted off to sleep.

#queen ramonda #queenramonda #ramonda #ramonda fanfic #namor #black panther wakanda forever #queen ramonda fanfic #attuma #namora #okoye #shuri #ayo #aneka #mbaku

16 notes · View notes

thenexusofsouls · 1 year

Photo

Mantis could tell that Strange was nervous allowing Brumbin to roam free, and she turned away from him to look up at the creature, trusting, knowing that he would behave. Unbeknownst to anyone, her powers had changed ever since she was resurrected in the Blip. Before, she needed to maintain physical contact for her abilities to be effective. Now, while the contact was still necessary at first, she realized that her influence lingered over others for extended periods of time. Brumbin would remain calm until Mantis gave him permission to revert to his true mood. How could her death and resurrection lead up to the empath becoming more powerful? It was odd, and she had no explanation for it. She wondered if Strange did. He seemed wise; he knew multiple spells, and he had access to many books. However, Mantis was afraid to ask, for the same reason she was afraid to tell Quill they were half siblings. The fear of being perceived for what she was: a creature with the power to bend a will or remove it completely, daughter of someone who had been above all things, because nothing and no one was above a god.

The thought alone was enough to make Mantis lose color in her face. No, she couldn’t ask. Instead, she followed Brumbin around, holding one of his arms to lean on him for support and make sure he did as Strange asked. “Don’t sneeze on anything, please. If you have to, cover your face with one of your… many arms. Okay?”

She was glad to help them get along, and she reminded herself that she had no reason to fear the evolution of her powers. Thanos and his plans had affected everyone in the universe in some way or another. Her own anxious mind was one more in a disrupted, chaotic post-Blip existence. Hearing Strange say that there was a whole race of creatures like Brumbin made her smile - happy that he belonged to a family, or at least, a species. “I would love to find others like me,” she said, her gaze full of nostalgia for something she never had. Mantis knew she was a Celestial hybrid, like Quill. He was half Celestial and half human. She was half Celestial and… what else? What was her mother like? What was her mother’s name? What species did she belong to? Did Ego even let her live? Based on what Mantis knew about Quill’s mother…

The sting of tears was warm in her eyes before she even knew, and Mantis blinked them away. Ego had truly destroyed every life he had ever touched, and she had been stuck with him through all of it. She didn’t want that loneliness for anyone else. “We will help you reunite with your friends,” she reassured Brumbin. When Strange admitted that he was struggling with the investigation, Mantis turned to look at him. “I could make him tell us everything he knows. You understand his language. This is a mess. Universes merging, creatures far from their home…” Powers growing at an alarming rate. “Do you think this is all a consequence of the Blip?” Thinking about how they fought Thanos in space gave her a headache. It was as if there was something missing; something she forgot completely.

__________

Stephen was poised and ready to do whatever he needed to do to keep Brumbin under control. He was an interdimensional creature of uncertain abilities who was currently in the wrong universe. Nothing could be more unpredictable than that. But as he saw the creature being very docile and even friendly, he relaxed a bit. Soon, he was glancing at Mantis, a light smile gracing his lips. “It was really important to you that he be let out of that cage, wasn’t it?” he observed. “You have a good heart, Mantis.” If not sometimes an overly idealistic one.

Just as she instructed Brumbin on how to sneeze neatly, the dust from one of the bookshelves he decided to sniff got up inside his very large nostrils and he snorted, his nose scrunching up. Sniff.... sniff... sniiiiiiiiiff.....

“Oh no...” Stephen said grimly.

The cloak swiftly flew off his shoulders and draped itself over the bookshelf to shield it from what would certainly be a colossal spray of snot. Brumbin, however, lifted one of his large, furry arms, just as Mantis had told him, and sneezed loudly into the inside of his elbow.

“Oh,” Stephen said, blinking. “That... was a lot less gross than I anticipated.” He looked at Mantis. “How is he understanding what you say? You’re not speaking his language.” Maybe her powers had something to do with it? That really made Stephen wonder. What Mantis could do... was it a form of magic? If not, then what was it? The only way to find out would be to study her, but of course that was an incredibly rude things to suggest to one’s friend, so he kept his mouth shut. The cloak, no longer needed for use as a tarp, flew back to Stephen, settling on his shoulders.

This caught Brumbin’s interest, and he lumbered over to Strange, pointing to the cloak and speaking in his own grumbling sort of language.

“It’s not alive, really, it’s a sentient artifact, there’s a difference...” Stephen answered awkwardly in Brumbin’s language.

Brumbin seemed to make a noise of both inquisitiveness and interest. Once again, when Mantis told the creature that they would help reunite him wit his own kind, Stephen thought of her capacity for empathy. Sure, she was an actual empath, but empaths could choose to tune out and ignore others if they practiced at it. Mantis genuinely cared.

“I do, yes,” he answered her. “The Blip and its reversal apparently caused a lot of aspects of our universe and others to go haywire. That seems to have opened the door for universal crossovers and various forms of erroneous teleportation, temporal rifts, and...” he gestured towards Brumbin, “...interdimensional species displacement. We’re pretty much working around the clock, here, to correct these spacetime continuum hiccups. The consequences if we don’t... could be...” He drew in a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Well, let’s just not think about that. We’ll get him and everyone else home to their proper universes, and there won’t be any multiversal disasters.”

#muse: stephen strange

0 notes

fem-blade-adept · 2 years

Text

Chapters 3 & 4 of my Destiny Warlock, Seraphina @queencharliesshadow

Chapter 3

Queen’s Mercy

Seraphina

A few years had passed since Sera’s arrival at the Tower. After her excavation of the Vault of Glass had been a success, the Tower began to revere her as the Girl Who Walks Between Worlds. Her ability to drift between the Void had become her skillset. So much so that Zavala had asked for her personally on the next mission.

“A rogue Fallen fanatic named Skolas has been found drumming up followers. Even though the Fallen antagonize us, this movement is troubling and puts us at risk. I need you to work with the Awoken Queen to bring him back into custody alive.” Zavala said with his usual unemotional tone.

“Noted. I’ll leave immediately.” She said with a note of irritation in her tone as she walked away.

“You do know where the Reef is, right?” He said as she stormed off.

“Yes, I do. No need for a debrief.” And she was gone.

Piper bobbed through the air behind her. “You know, I’m not a fan of Zavala either, but that seemed like contempt? You ok, Sera?”

Sera continued walking toward the hanger. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just felt this itching annoyance creep into my brain with how he talked about the Eliksni. Like they are enemies. They’re just trying to survive like we are.”

Piper almost seemed to nod in agreement. “Makes sense to me. But the Eliksni and the Last City have been at odds for centuries. The Awoken get along with the more reasonable pieces of the Eliksni race, so that’s why they’re our contact in this case.”

Sera eased up. “You think I’ll get some answers when we get there? I mean, as an Awoken, I can only imagine that meeting the Queen would lead to something at least.”

Piper did a little flip before activating the transmat into their ship. “We can only hope.”

~~~

“Guardian to the Reef, we request permission for docking, over.” Sera said like it was almost second nature.

“Guardian received, dock at will in Bay 4.” She heard in response.

Piper continued to eye her guardian. “Well, they seem cordial enough. This could possibly go smoothly.”

Sera laughed. “Since when has anything ever been easy?”

As they docked, Sera did her post-flight checks and prepared to exit. As she stepped out of the cockpits, she heard a wave of gasps from the crowd of mechanics and guards standing nearby, almost in a look of shock. Like they’d seen a ghost and not one like Piper.

Her little light floated up next to Sera’s shoulder. “Well, that’s definitely not what I expected.” Sera nodded in agreement and stepped over to the envoy.

“Hi, I was told I was expected. I’m here to consult with someone named Petra Venj and someone named Variks on the Kell of Kells operation.” Sera said, in her best business tone, which was a lot harder to do than she thought.

The envoy shook himself out of his stupor. “Oh um yes, we were told you would be coming. Head over to those screens on the opposite side of the bay and she’ll be with you shortly.”

“Thank you.” Sera said with a pleasant curtsy.

“My pleasure, Her Mer-uh, I mean, miss.” The envoy said, stepping away.

Sera started walking towards who she assumed to be Petra Venj, neck deep in reports and intel. “I mean I didn’t think this would be easy, but it’s almost like people here have met someone like me before.”

Piper drifted closer. “For real, though. You’re like a celebrity here. It’s almost surreal.”

As she stepped up to the pink-haired visage of Petra Venj, Petra turned and almost spilled her drink. “Sera?! No, it can’t be. You died.”

Sera and Piper gave a surprised glance at each other. Sera then turned back, slowly. “Uh yeah, um we’re here to help with the arrest warrant for a Mr. Skolas, who, I’ve been told, is a massive pain in the ass and that you’re my contact along with Variks?”

Petra recovered her calm demeanor and set down her now half-empty mug. “Of course. Sorry. I’m just surprised to see you. Or I mean who you were, I guess. We should really consult the Queen on this matter. I’m sure she’ll have some insight on this.”

Petra, then, turned to a screen and typed in a code and started speaking in an urgent tone. “Get me an audience with the Queen immediately. That’s an order.”

~~~

As Petra led Sera and her ghost into the Queen’s court, a pale-faced yet powerful Awoken stood from her chair. Petra spoke with a fervent tone. “Queen Mara, this is the guardian they sent to help with the recapture of Skolas. I’m sure you have info to give her.”

Sera studied Mara’s face. Though surprised, she seemed to have an astounding amount of control over her emotions. She watched as Mara surveyed the situation with care and resignation as she sat down. “Well, this certainly is a surprise. I’m assuming you have no recollection of yourself pre-resurrection.” Mara said, with an imposing tone that almost made Sera shiver in nervousness and in gayness.

“Only bits and pieces, my Queen. I have been told by a reputable source that it’s rare my memories will come back, but it’s not unheard of.” Sera explained as Piper rested on her shoulder.

Mara nodded with a glint of recognition. “Petra, work with her on this. We can’t rush this. If it is meant to happen, she will come to understand her place in her own time. If we try to jog her memory, things will fall into place in a way that won’t be healthy. I’ll tell you what I know on Skolas. Also, give her a Queen’s mark, so that people are aware she is granted amnesty. Send a message to the Vanguard that Seraphina will be our tower contact. All info from me must go through her.”

Petra nodded in almost relief. “Yes, my Queen.”

Mara turned back to Sera. “Something is coming. A war. A big one. Me and my Techeuns have foreseen it. The warlord you killed a couple years ago? I feel it may have led to some unintended consequences despite the necessity of Crota’s death. I cannot tell you more or it may shift how our plans work. Just trust that we are doing what we can. Time is the best way for all of this to come together how we want it to. Just know, if things happen, you have a home here.”

Sera blushed. “Yes, my Queen.” It seemed like the right thing to say.

Mara nodded. “You have my permission to start the hunt. Good luck.” With a wave of her hand, she dismissed them.

Chapter 4

Empress of Light and Dark

Seraphina

As the hunt ensued, fitting in with the Queen’s Guard almost felt normal. Sera couldn’t place it though. None of her memories had returned and it was even worse now that she had a lead.

The hunt didn’t succeed without hitting speed bumps, but Skolas was captured nonetheless. Petra pulled Sera away right before she returned to the wire with the report. “If you ever need help with anything, please don’t hesitate. I’m only one call away.”

Sera shook her hand. “Duly noted. Thank you, Petra. Working with you has been an honor. It won’t be the last time.”

Petra gave a sly smile that pulled on Sera’s heartstrings. “I should hope not.” As Petra walked away, Sera couldn’t help but hope that her memories returned soon.

~~~

Several years passed. Sera continued to build reputation with not the Reef and the Vanguard. The Tower began to know her as the Empress of Darkness, due to her destructive power with Void and support capabilities with Solar energy. As Oryx’s ships invaded the sol system, Sera led the charge from the Vanguard’s side. Her heart sank when the Reef’s fleet sustained massive damage. Petra went dark as well as the Queen. Apparently, Mara’s brother was missing too, but Sera had never met him.

Piper attempted to cheer her up. “She said she had a plan. Everything is gonna be alright.”

As life at the tower continued, Sera sparked up a habit of saving the world. Whether the house of Devils had tried to control SIVA or the Cabal had taken the Light from them, Sera was there to save the day.

As things continued to try and tear the tower down, Sera’s burden continued to drag her lower. Her inability to help the Queen, the gaps in her brain. She couldn’t reconcile the blank spots and her ability to care started to wane. That is, until one day, Ikora called her for a mission.

“Cayde, the Hunter Vanguard asked for you specifically and, considering you’re our liaison with the Awoken in the Reef, I don’t blame him. The Prison of Elders is experiencing a massive riot and we need you and Cayde to offer assistance. Petra Venj has already been notified of your imminent arrival. Stay safe.”

#destiny2 #Seraphina the warlock #the guardian

1 note · View note

shotorozu · 3 years

Note

hello! i hope you're doing well~

can i request headcanons (or with scenario if you'd like) where bakugo's s/o falls asleep on him while crying 🥺 and if it's okay with you, can s/o have the emotion deprivation quirk because i really loved those hcs you made before :)))

i really really love your blog btw. your writing is always sweet and fun to read ❤

passing out after crying on them

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, shinsou hitoshi

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns, emotion deprivation quirk— the more you suppress your emotions, the more power you get.

headcanons : hurt and comfort, but mostly comfort.

note(s) : thank you for the love anon :)) i also added shinsou because i thought this concept fitted well with him too :))

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

you were really unreadable— you’d understand that because of the nature of your quirk. however, being with katsuki gave him the ability to read you and your mannerisms

if your nails dug into your palms, that probably meant that your day was shit, if you kept looking at your nails, it means you’re trying not to cry, and running your hands across the surface meant that you were happy.

and unfortunately, he caught the sight of you digging your nails into your hands, not enough to actually do any harm but.. enough to keep you ‘focused’

he wants you to be comfortable enough to go to him with your problems, but then again— it was always something you struggled with, so he wasn’t expecting it

so now you’re alone with him, walking along the corridors of the dorms— and none of you guys are saying much.

“get in here,” he says, grabbing your wrist as he yanks you into his room, immediately setting you down on his bed.

“i don’t know what happened with you, but i don’t fuckin like seeing it.” he sets your head on the soft pillows, an arm bringing you close in positions

“nothing really happened,”

“yeah? then why the hell were you doing that then?” his words sound rather harsh, but he’s not raising his voice at you “you know what i mean.”

“i’m sorry, it’s just.. exhausting. having to suppress my emotions for long periods of time. i don’t know what to do because i’ll..”

and that’s when you start crying, which was probably the last thing on your check list— you’re getting his pillows wet, he’s not saying anything, you can feel yourself getting weaker

all of the doubts in your head run wild, and bakugou only shoves your head onto his chest “idiot, stop it with the apologies already. just let go.”

and you do exactly that. you heave into his chest, bawling like it’s been forever since you’ve done so. you’re getting his shirt wet, but katsuki couldn’t seem to care— he’s just glad that his hands are emitting enough heat

your ragged breathing eventually blended into soft breathing— you don’t seem to be shaking in tremors anymore, and he’s glad

he takes a look at your face. you’re out like a baby, cheeks still damp and your eyelashes were wet with tears.

“idiot Y/N,” he mutters to himself, wiping your damp face with his thumb, “you’re out like a baby. you’re not gonna hear this but next time, don’t be so stiff with coming forward to me for help.”

“i’m the last person that’s gonna judge you, i do love you after all. it might not seem like it but i really really really do.” he presses a kiss against the back of your ear.

he’s going to try to not wake you up, as he gets up from the bed— sprinting downstairs to prepare some water that he’s gonna force you to drink down later

when you wake up, you bet he’s making you put a cool towel on your eyes, reducing the puffiness as he has you on his lap.

shinsou hitoshi

can also tell if you had a good or bad day, and he really hates seeing you so.. miserable.

he can tell that you have so many thoughts in that head of yours, because of that powerful quirk. those were one of the few times he wished he had aizawa’s quirk.

he frowns when he sees you suffer in absolute silence, even though you’re wearing the most neutral face he has ever seen, he can quite literally see it— because you’re fidgetting with your hands on your lap.

unlike bakugou, the first thing he’ll talk to you about is how you’re feeling— the moment you guys are alone.

don’t try to deny it, because he knows already— this is just him giving you a heads up, just letting you know that he’s about to coddle you.

actions speak louder than words in moments like this, he has you pressed against him on the bed— allowing your arms to wrap around his torso like lifeline

“you don’t have to say anything right now, Y/N.” he reassures you, “let it happen.”

as if it was on command, your eyes water— and you shove your head onto his shoulder, finally breaking the barriers you were desperately trying to keep up.

you’re vunerable, a mess, and hitoshi allows you to cry like there’s no tomorrow— only resting his hand on your back, rubbing soft circles there

when you start shaking, hiccups escaping your lips— he panics for a moment, because you’re on the cusp of going into a panic attack

but that’s also when his baritone voice starts giving out soft instructions on stabilizing your breathing pattern. his quirk would always be the very last option.

and when the storm has finally calmed, your eyes flutter— a sudden wave of sleepiness washing over you, and you just allow yourself to fall asleep in his hold

he sighs in relief, and he doesn’t care that his sweater suddenly became soaked with your tears, it allow him to carry some of your burden— he’s just holding you with all of his attention.

his violet irises soften in adoration, and he’s kissing your tears off your cheeks, moving anything out of your face.

hitoshi being hitoshi wouldn’t be able to sleep, but he’ll spend a good moment thinking about what he’ll talk about with you the moment you wake up, and he’ll pask you about your issue, and how he can help.

but for now, he’s just thankful that you have so much trust him— to the point you’re okay with being vunerable around him, and he’s just so proud of you.

“sleep well, kitten. i love you a lot, please remember that.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters, boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i don’t profit off my hobby.

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission :))

1K notes · View notes

thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

Text

BTS at the SDG UN General Assembly (210920)

by Admin 1

Six days, as well as one flight from Seoul to New York City, after receiving their diplomatic passports, the day of BTS’ third UN appearance finally came. The SDG UN General Assembly AM session began with several speakers, one of them South Korea’s President Moon who first gave his own speech before introducing BTS by saying: “joining us today are an exceptionally outstanding group of young men who are connecting with youth across the world (...). BTS the first ever Special Envoy from the private sector (...) probably the artist that is most loved by people around the world.”

Like I said in my post about their visit to the Blue House, I was impossibly proud watching them walk onto that stage at the UN HQ bringing along two posters, one of which had pictures sent in by ARMY, and give their speech in Korean instead of English. Unlike the first time back in 2018 when only Namjoon had spoken, this time all the members took turns to lay out a meaningful speech which you can either watch in the video below (English subs, as well as in many other languages, are provided) or read it a little further below.

youtube

In the videos of the members sitting on the side waiting for their turn you could see each of them taking deep breaths and practicing their part of the speech a few more times wanting make sure they could deliver it to the best of their abilities on a stage as unique as this one. Their nervousness was clearly visible at various degrees underlining only so much more how historic this moment really was, for them, for the current and future generations, but also for their country.

Over the years, and especially since Namjoon’s first UN speech, ARMY made a million edits about President Kim Namjoon and today we saw a visual that turned edits into real life, even if “only” as UN speaker instead of president. If you ask me, he’ll always be my president. I’m sure JK would agree with me.

Speaking of which, it’s a beautiful coincidence that during his first speech at the UN (aside from the online version last year) JK is the same age as Namjoon was in 2018 during his first UN speech.

Before they began, it was so interesting to see Namjoon take a moment to look at his members, see if everyone is ready, and only once he was sure that they were, he began. Very leader like of him.

Though I don’t have a picture/gif of it, something that I thought was very meaningful and therefore important to mention was a moment during one of Jimin’s parts where his nervousness got to him. Instead of panicking, he simply took a moment, lowered his microphone, took a deep breath, collected himself, and then continued on with what he was supposed to say. It was a very human moment, one that showcases that it is okay to be overwhelmed, to take a small break, just a few seconds, before continuing, that it’s not embarrassing or a sign of weakness, but rather a sign of strength to calmly overcome the moment and continue on, brave and confident.

Another thing worth mentioning was how during their speech the different world leaders sitting in the audience, including President Moon, took out their phones to take pictures or videos of the members, how after they were done and left the stage and made their way out of the Hall, many of them gave them thumbs up as they passed, some even greeting them with a safe elbow bump, a show of respect and admiration. After all it takes tremendous courage to deliver a speech like this in a place such as this one.

The grand finale of their appearance, of course, was the pre-recorded performance of Permission to Dance filmed inside the Hall, the entrance area of the HQ, as well as the space in front of the building and a park next to it. It was shown on the two monitors inside the Hall as well for the attending world leaders to see as well.

youtube

We’ve seen so many iconic stages, especially since Dynamite Era last year, but I never thought we’d get to see them perform at the UN HQ, literally. In my early ARMY days, I never expected that our journey would take us here, and yet, as I think about it now, it completely makes sense that it did. Bangtan were always destined for greatness. It’s now clearer than ever before.

I do love how even at a performance as meaningful as this one, Jimin and Tae still found a way to have two tiny moments, the one in the gif below but also one that came just before it (though I couldn’t find or make a gif of it myself, sorry) where they seemed to giggle/smile at each other while Tae showed Jimin a jump he wanted, and also ended up doing afterward, for the camera.

Though they didn’t interact in the Permission to Dance performance, my little Namjin heart was so happy to see Namjoon and Seokjin side by side throughout the appearance, which I’m aware was in large dictated by their usual lineup (though it was adjusted so Namjoon was in the center with three members to either side from him) but it still reminded me of Namjoon’s request to Seokjin four years ago, as in that he please be by his side at events like this because it makes him calmer.

Much the way it was back in 2018, this time we also got some selcas from Seokjin, Yoongi and Hobi showing off their UN IDs as well as their UN x SK masks which were also worn by the President and First Lady (and likely also their staff). One thing that caught my eye though were their pins which, upon first glance, seemed like the same ones everyone else had, but when you looked closer it turns out that our boys had to be a bit extra. Out with the plain ones, in with the bedazzled versions that, because of the gems, remind me of their mics as well.

Koreas pride with pins that sparkle just as beautifully as they do.

All in all this was a historical moment, something I’m impossibly grateful I got to witness live. My ARMY pride and ego is through the roof today and will remain as such for a long time going forward. The members have come a long way and have grown and matured into stunning young men with bright minds and intelligent words. As much as it was an honor for them to be there, it is an honor for us to be their fans, to support them, and I cannot wait to see where we’ll go from here but one thing is for sure, Hobi certainly was right, liking BTS certainly was the best decision ever.

#BTS #BTS UNGA #Namjoon #Seokjin #Yoongi #Hoseok #Jimin #Taehyung #Jungkook #bts united nations #Vmin #namjin

254 notes · View notes

slytherins-heir · 3 years

Text

Maniac.

18+ word count : 2k+ 𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔲𝔤𝔲 𝔫𝔦𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔦 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔪𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔴// : 𝔭𝔴𝔭, 𝔡𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫, 𝔰𝔪𝔲𝔱, 𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔨𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔶, 𝔡𝔯𝔲𝔤/𝔞𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔥𝔬𝔩 𝔲𝔰𝔢, 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔞𝔱 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔲𝔱 Girls… they were always easy for Niragi, like scared little sheep in the eyes of the big, bad wolf. Easily controlled, the fear making them cave into every twisted want and desire he had.. All except for one. One who wouldn’t bend her will so easily for him, little did he know.. She was just as twisted as him.

Manipulative, cruel, soulless, sadistic and completely remorseless.. They’re just a few words that spring to your mind when you think of Niragi. No doubt he was one of the most, if not the most, criminally insane, sadistic man you have ever crossed paths with, but along with that, the most provocative and sexual men. All the girls at The Beach, feared him, for good reasons, he wouldn’t hesitate to murder, torture, or do other unspeakable things to those who even dared to look at him wrong. You haven’t been at The Beach long, but you quickly learned his reputation. Ever since arriving, you felt his eyes linger longer than they should have, the passing glances and the smirks he would have plastered on his face as he makes one of his usual sexual passing comments at you. You made sure to not let it visibly show how it affected you, you wanted it to be known that he wouldn’t bend you to his will as easily as other girls. If Niragi was gonna play his game, you’d play too, but better. All until one night when you finally gave in. It was a usual night after The Game, the smell of pot in the fresh, crisp Tokyo air, loud music blaring so loud it almost drowned out the loud talking and shouting coming from all those living in the large building. You watched as people drunkenly jumped into the pool and people drank and smoked to their heart's content. You perched on the side of the pool, legs dangling into the cold water, placing the joint into your mouth and inhaling the smoke that slowly passed between your lips, the slight burn of the marijuana feeling like heaven in your lungs, what you didn’t notice was your gaze drifting from the party go-ers to him.. Niragi. You couldn’t help but let your mind slowly drift to things you’ve heard of him do, and things you’ve seen with your own eyes.. At least until you realised that he was staring right back at you as he licked his bottom lip with his usual seductive smirk on his lips, his white and black shirt unbuttoned more than usual but the rifle he always sported was still being slung over his shoulder by one hand, his jet black hair half tied back, the rest effortlessly falling down the nape of his neck. You looked down to divert your eyes, in hopes he didn’t notice you staring as you picked up your beer bottle and quickly finishing the rest of the contents in it, that's when you looked up to see he wasn’t standing where you had just stared him down. The feeling of relief washed over you as you brought the joint back to your lips, at least until you felt a breath on your neck, making your own breath catch in your throat. ‘’You know, you shouldn’t be staring at me. People might get the wrong idea’’ Niragi spoke into your ear, his breathy voice setting a spark off in your gut. Determined to not show how he was affecting you once again, you spoke back ‘’And since when did you care about people getting the wrong idea, Suguru?’’, your voice a stark steady contrast to what you were feeling. ‘’What makes you think you think you can talk to me like that princess?’’ Niragi chuckled, making a heat rise from your cheeks to the tip of your ear. ‘’I never gave you permission to use my last name, did I?’’ he said, almost growling into your ear, just as you were about to speak up again you felt the distinction between the warmth of his tongue along with the cool metal being slowly dragged from the crook of your neck and then along your ear with his breath fanning across the damp area. You could see the image of what he was doing in your mind, the idea of his eyes rolling back into his head as he committed the sinful action was enough for you to let out a low whimper, letting your head fall back, completely losing all composure you once had. He finally won. And that’s how you ended up here, in his room. The one place you would never, admit to him, that you have been hoping that you would end up in. As Niriagi had you lifted, legs wrapped around his waist as he walked to drop you on his bed while kissing you roughly. Your back hit the bed as he dropped you, quickly took off your bikini bottoms and spun your body as if it weighed nothing, making sure to leave space so your head could hang off the edge of the bed. Your heart rate rose upon getting a sense of exactly what he was thinking. As if he could read your mind, he stripped of his clothing and positioned himself, tapping your cheek with his length. The walls you had built up for so long to make sure he couldn’t wrap you around his finger all came crashing down around you as you felt two of his long fingers slowly graze over your clit before roughly shoving them into your dripping heat. Breathing became a little easier once you finally got control of yourself, that is until you felt the bed shift as you felt his weight behind you, spreading your legs to accommodate his frame between them. What you felt next wasn’t what you expected. The feeling of something cold, but sharp being dragged lightly along your spine, sent chills throughout your whole body. Instead of the fear Niragi was expecting from you, the sinful moan escaping your lips at the realisation of him dragging a knife along your warm skin sent him through a loop. ‘’Niragi please..’’ you whined as you attempted to rub your pussy back against him. Niragi let out an amused laugh, ‘’I had a feeling you were different, babygirl’’ he muttered as you felt him remove the knife and pull your waist so your ass was in line with his long, thick cock. The action made you moan loudly as he fucked you with his fingers, with your mouth a gape he took the opportunity to shove his hard member into your mouth. The groan that Niragi let out was almost animalistic, leaving no time for your brain to catch onto what was happening, he continued to fuck you with his long, ring adorned fingers while ramming into your throat, the feeling of the almost asphixiation making you groan around his dick as he fucked your throat harshly, causing vibrations to be sent through his body as he threw his head back in pure ecstasy. ‘’See princess? I knew your pretty little mouth was good for something’’ Niragi panted. Removing his fingers from your slick, you whined as best as you could with your throat full of him at the feeling of being empty, your walls tightening around nothing, until you felt the feeling from before, the cold and warm contrast of his tongue along with his piercing, the only difference this time instead of it being along your ear, it was along your throbbing clit. The new angle Niragi had put himself, now stopped him from using your mouth to just having his dick rammed down your throat and settling there. Your breathing hitched, the feeling of his mouth eating you out mixed with your throat stuffed causing all ability to breathe out the window as you started to choke. Niragi didn’t let up, he continued to continue his attack on your pussy for a little while longer before pulling himself away, and pulling out of your mouth. You spluttered for air as he drew his cock out, still connected to you by a long string of saliva still connected to his length You both knew he had you right where he wanted, submissive and willing to do as he pleased. Niragi smirked looking down on your already limp body before dragging you to the position he wanted. He flipped you onto your stomach, your face in the pillows. Niragi wasted no time in quickly rubbing his length against your wet folds, knowing well what a mess you must have made on his bed. You felt the tip of him being shoved inside you before he quickly and roughly shoved the rest of his dick into you, causing you to let out what almost was a scream due to his size. Without letting you get accommodated to his size, he roughly started fucking into you. You were completely at his will, the unholy sounds both of you made along with the sound of your skin slapping hard. Without slowing down, he tangled one of his large hands in your hair, forcing your head back as he pulled your back flush against his chest. Niragi didn’t let up on the rough grip he had on you as he fucked up into you, the new angle hitting the right spot inside of you which led to you whining loudly and clenching around him. The familiar feeling of the blade returned to your collarbone as he spoke into your ear. ‘’Come on baby, I can feel you clench around me, cum all over my cock babygirl’’ he said, slowly dragging the cool blade along your chest and down the valley of your breast, not making an incision but making sure you can feel that he could, if he so well wanted to. The mix between his rough voice and the pleasure he was giving you, you felt the band snap in your stomach, causing you to shake violently and clenching even more around his cock as he sent you into your first orgasm, the growl he let out made the wave wash over you even more as you leaked cum down his cock and onto the bedding below you. Before you could even arrange your thoughts, he had flipped you onto your back, thrown the knife away and quickly reinserted his big cock back into your still tight pussy. Niragi went back to abusing your pussy, having no mercy as he fucked roughly into you, wrapping one of his hands around your throat. ‘’Come on, one more. Just one more’’ he spoke, his voice giving away how close to cumming he was. Niragi threw his head back before bringing his other hand harshly on the side of your cheek a couple of times. ‘’Niragi please, please cum inside me’’ you panted, voice strained due to him cutting off some of your oxygen supply. He smirked back at you, ‘’My nasty girl wants me to fill her up? You wanna feel my hot cum in your delicious little pussy?’’ Niragi shoved two fingers into your mouth, the other still wrapped around your throat as you felt his thick cock twitch inside of you. The combined feeling finally triggered another orgasm inside of you, causing you to see stars as your body shook underneath him, triggering his own orgasm. Niragi’s thrusts became harder, but slower, moaning loudly and his hot cum shot into your pussy, the sinful sounds of both of your whines and groans sounding like music to his ear. Once he fucked the orgasm out of both you he stilled, pulling out of you but then quickly shoving his fingers quickly into your pussy, pushing all his cum back into you before roughly railing his fingers inside of you again while bringing his jewelry adorned tongue down to your clit and roughly sucking on it. Looking down at him and squirming from the overstimulation he was giving you. It wasn’t long before another shockwave sent through your body, causing you to squirt all over his fingers and mouth. Niragi sat up, leaning over you and dragging his tongue across his lip looking at you in your eyes. ‘’This is my pussy now, do you hear me? You’re my little toy’’ ─── taglist : @anongirl007 @mi-han @shinjiyoongi @cuddlymalfoy

#suguru niragi #surugu niragi smut #surugu niragi x reader #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland smut #niragi #niragi x reader #niragi smut #niragi x reader smut

1K notes · View notes

mackeydoodledoo · 3 years

Text

Demon or Human?

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x Demon (Fem!)Reader

Summary: A foreign invader comes into Castle Dimitrescu just as you were settling in with your new family. However, how far would you be willing to go to protect your newfound home and your newfound love?

Warning: Game spoilers (I’ll try to keep those at a minimum), Blood, Slight G0R3, uncontrollable demon rage, fluff at the end

A/N: In light of some Resident Evil Village spoilers... Let’s just say I WILL NOT HAVE IT! So, I guess this is another entry to my The Demon Amongst Vampires series! R is My Character: Hydrangea Dragonfold

--------------------------------------------------------------

1 Year..

You’ve been inhabiting Castle Dimitrescu for one year. Alcina had been able to persuade Mother Miranda to keep you in her care instead of letting you be hunted for sport. You’d probably survive it anyway, with your demon abilities.

“I have to go to a meeting,” Alcina announces to you and her daughters, “Apparently Mother Miranda has found a foreigner man-thing in our village grounds.”

“A man?!” Daniela squeals of excitement

"A new plaything?!” Cassandra asks

“You must bring him here at once mother,” Bela says

She looks at her three children, almost looking like she is tired of their pleas. However, she recomposes herself

“I will have to persuade Mother Miranda as best as I can,” Alcina says, “I appoint Hydrangea on watch. Bela is in charge.”

You leave your mouth agape, hearing your name after while of Bela calling you “micul meu demon” or everyone else calling you demon.

“But mother-” Cassandra interrupts

“Why can’t it be either one of us?” Daniela motions to her and Cassandra

“Because I’m the oldest,” Bela flaunts her ‘eldest sibling title’

“There will be no complaints my daughters,” Alcina says, “Guard the castle well Hydrangea.”

“Of course My lady,” you say out of respect

“You have permission to call me Alcina Hydrangea,” She smiles

Alcina makes her exit.

“I get the first bite on the man thing,” Daniela blurts out

“Not if I catch him first,” Cassandra interrupts

“Enough!” Both you and Bela scream

Your blue flames ignite slightly, almost setting the table on fire. However, you compose yourself. Thus, your flames ‘dieing’.

“We will wait for your mother to return,” You sigh, “Gosh you two are rowdy. No wonder why Bela is in charge.”

You ignite your flames once you stand, heading off towards the staircase. However, Bela follows you. You didn’t notice her presence until she grabs your wrist and pulls you into a room.

“Bela love what are you doing?” You ask

You try to get her to let go of you however, you stop fighting her as she doesn’t reply to you but only snakes her arms around your midsection, taking in your warmth that you were producing. Not only from your natural body heat, but your demon form as well. You were also sure that she was also listening to your racing heartbeat. The one thing you feared was giving too much heat, too much to the point where Bela and possibly everyone else you’ve come to love and care about they turn to ash because of your carelessness of your flames.

“I... Love, I have to leave,” You sigh, placing your hand on her head and the other on her waist

“No you don’t,” She counter argues

“I do my love,” You say, looking down at her, “I have to keep you three safe.”

“And you think we can’t protect ourselves?!” Bela asks

“That is not what I meant love,” You say, “It’s just... It’s just I’m not over what happened last time... If I hadn’t come when I did, you would have died... I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for that. I’d die if anything happened to you.”

Bela’s grip on you only tightens when you finish your sad ramble. This gets you in tears. You really couldn’t imagine the rest of your life without her.

“You’d die... For me?” She asks

“Of course I would love,” You smile, swooping her into your arms

Fortunately, your blue flames weren’t ignited enough to accidentally burn her. Your foreheads touch as you give her a kiss

“This is so much better,” Bela sighs in relief

“It really is,” You smile, “Thank you Bela.”

She kisses your forehead. You lay your head against her shoulder, hoping you could just stay like that for a little bit longer.

“Bela?” You ask, breaking the silence

“What is it my love?” She asks

“If this man... If this man scurries around the castle and hurts any of you,” You start, “What if I lose control of my demon form and I no longer see the human in me?”

“Simple, I‘ll get you out,” She answers

“What if you can’t?” You ask, worried now, “What if I’m the one who ends up hurting you?”

“Can you promise me one thing then?” She asks

You nod.

“The don’t use your full demon form,” She requests, “If you’re worried about hurting us, don’t use it. Should you though, I will pull you out.”

You had wished you were able to stay like that forever. However, you knew you had to begin your task. You and Bela give each other one last kiss before departing each others’ presence and embrace. Bela goes back down to the foyer to meet her sisters once more.

“You two okay?” Daniela asks, breaking the silence

“We are fine Daniela,” Bela answers

“Then when will the both of you just shut up and get married?!” Cassandra asks, clearly teasing Bela now

“We are not-we don’t plan on that yet,” Bela says, “It’s never come up when we talk and we don’t need to yet.”

“Sure,” Daniela teases

As you were scouting the grounds of the castle, you already see Alcina returning to the castle.

“My lady!” You call out, “I’m assuming it didn’t go well?”

“Mother Miranda gave that man-thing to Heisenberg, of course I’m upset!” She groans in frustration, “I need a drink.”

You follow her back into the castle where her daughters immediately stand to greet her.

“Where’s the male foreigner?” Bela asks

“Mother Miranda gave him to Heisenberg that fool,” She groans

You all watch her walk up the stairs and disappear into the castle. You four seat back down into the couch, Bela leaning into your embrace.

“How was scouting O-great demon king?” Daniela teases

“It was fine Dani,” you chuckle, “Are you just going to continuously make nicknames for me Dani?”

She nods as she leans back into the chair. However, before any of you could converse on, you could hear footsteps. You motion for the girls to stop talking.

“You guys hear that too?” You whisper

You motion for the three of them to follow you and once you get to the grand entrance of the castle, you see a man.

“Looking for Rose?” Daniela calls out to him, taunting him

The three of them begin forming into their fly swarm and move toward him. You make the decision to tell Alcina herself that a man has entered the castle.

“My lady, there is a man in the castle,” You sigh, “Your daughters are on the case. I’m not sure who he is- oh, speak of the devil, here they are.”

You hear the doors burst open along with struggled grunts. You look over and notice Cassandra and Bela dragging him in.

“Mother, I bring you fresh prey,” She says, trying to take the credit

“Oh, you are so kind to me daughters,” Alcina smiles, her daughters letting a slight giggle out of their mouths, “Now, let’s take a look at him.”

She stands up and faces him, “Well, well, Ethan Winters. You’ve escaped my little brothers’ idiot games did you? Let’s see how special you are.”

You watch Bela, Daniela and Alcina taste his blood. You stand next to Cassandra as you watch.

“Hey-Hey you, help me out!” Ethan pleas at you

You turn to look at him for a second. You feel your human willing to help him however, you end up turning your back to him, not willing to help him. If anything, you also hated men.

“Starting to go a little stale,” Alcina says, “But, I must inform Mother Miranda. Later, there will be enough for everyone. Put him up.”

You watch again as Bela and Daniela hook his hands and Cassandra hoists him up. You hear him groan in pain as you all begin making your exit.

“Hey... Hey you!” He again calls for you, “Help me... Please...”

You stop in your tracks and look up at him. You only let out a low chuckle as Bela gently grabs your wrist and pulls you out from the room.

As you were finishing something with Cassandra you suddenly hear Bela’s grunts.

“Hey, I gotta go,” You say out of the blue

You follow Bela’s voice, rushing even further when you could hear her voice getting louder and louder.

“Bela! Bela!” You call out for her

You pass through the kitchen and notice Bela on top of Ethan. However, she doesn’t notice how he’s aiming his gun. Only you had noticed.

“Bela! The windows!” You scream, “He’s gonna shoot the windows!”

Believing that she didn’t hear you, you ignite your flames even more so than earlier. But, it’s concentrated to your palms. You begin melting the bars that had separated from you reaching Bela. However, just before the glass had gave way to the heavy damage, the bars melted enough for you to burst through. You hear Bela’s pained scream as the glass gave way to the heavy damage.

“You- stupid man-thing!” Bela screams

You only pictured how she was the last time she was out in the cold. You let out an ear-piercing roar as you forcefully push Ethan out of the way to get to Bela. Igniting your flames ever so slightly, you pick Bela up and begin warming her up with your flames and your natural body heat. You go back into the dungeons and place her down gently, hoping you had warmed her enough.

“Are you okay?!” You ask, tears welling into your eyes

“I am now love,” She smiles, caressing your cheek

“Go!” You say, “Get your sisters an get somewhere safe! He knows! I’ll come find you.”

You watch Bela disappear into the dungeons, hopefully back into the castle to warn her sisters. You go back to where Ethan had shot the window. He was hoping you’d feel pain with the cold however, when you emerged from the cold wind, you came out, unphased.

“What the HELL ARE YOU?!” Ethan asks

“The one who will kill you,” You growl, taking in the cold, “My blood’s boiling...”

Your blue flame continue to ignite more than usual and you pounce onto him, snarling in his face. He tries to use his shotgun on you and he manages to graze the side of your head. He manages to wriggle himself out of your grip and shoots at you again, this time, in the shoulder.

“Stay down kid,” He says mercilessly and runs into the direction you came

“Get back here you coward!” You scream, trying to stand

As your body began regenerating, you continuously crawled in the direction he was going in, beginning to track his scent. It was difficult as you were in the room where the wines are created. However, it didn’t stop you from continuing on the path. When you fully regenerated your shoulder, you get up nd try to track his scent as best as you could. However, when you only got back into the castle.

“Bela!” you call

You felt a hand on your wrist as you begin getting pulled into a room. A feeling of relief washes over you as you hug Bela tightly. You look over her shoulder and only see Cassandra with her.

“Where’s Daniela?” You ask, in a panicked state

“She ran off, hoping to take down the man herself,” Cassandra sighs

You hear the door burst open and it’s Alcina.

“That man will pay for what he’s done,” She growls, “My daughter are you hurt?”

“I was but- thanks to Hydrangea,” Bela sighs in relief, leaning into your shoulder to warm up some more

“Where’s Daniela?” Alcina asks

“She went to the library to take down the man mother, we tried to stop her,” Cassandra sighs

“You two stay with Hydrangea until I return with his head and Daniela,” Alcina orders before leaving again

She makes her leave. The three of you sit on the couch, Cassandra and Bela huddling against you for warmth. However, Bela practically seating herself into your lap.

“Do you have to be such a hog of the human furnace?” Cassandra looks at her older sister in annoyance

“I’m her girlfriend so buzz off,” Bela says

“She may be your girlfriend but I need some warmth too,” Cassandra growls

You could hear Daniela’s pained grunts and screaming. You stand up and place Bela down onto the couch next to her sister. You flick your finger and a small flame goes into the fire place, igniting the firewood.

“Alcina hasn’t found her yet,” You say, “I’ll go get Daniela the both of you stay here okay?”

Once you left the room you break into a run towards the library. You break through the door just as Ethan begins opening the roof to let in the cold air again.

“STOP!” You scream, grabbing onto Daniela

Sorry Bela... I have to do this... To protect all of you. You four accepted me almost instantly... I have to protect my home. I’m not letting anyone die here! The only one dying is him....

The ground around you became engulfed in blue flames, surrounding both you and Daniela

[A/n: not my gif]

“I got you Dani,” You say, the last time you heard your own voice

You look at Ethan completely deranged, more than Cassandra could ever look deranged at one of her “pets”. Ethan begins to walk backward however, tripping over an object.

“Let’s talk about this kid!” Ethan pleas, “From one human to another-”

“I’m not a human!” You spat, your demon voice overtaking your real voice, “I’m a demon! I protect my home and everyone in it!”

You let go of Daniela and leave her on the floor for Alcina to check on her. You throw Ethan out of the library. Alcina takes Daniela to where her other two daughters were. You throw him down a set of stairs. Coincidentally where Bela had opened the door.

You stand at the top of the stairs, looking down at Ethan, “You’ve overstayed your welcome... Time to say goodnight.”

“No-No please I beg you please I just wanted to find my daughter!” He screams

“All of this? For a child who isn’t even here?!” You mock him, “Your little baby could even be dead for all I care!”

Ethan draws his gun and pulls the trigger as a last resort to get you to stand down. However, you slice his arm off. You could hear his screams of pain as you now stand over him.

From the other room, Bela, Daniela, Alcina and Cassandra watch as you begin devouring his flesh. You stop after two bites out of his flesh you turn to the four women. Unable to feel your human, instead feeling your demon take full control over your body, you charge at Cassandra, Daniela, Alcina, even Bela. Alcina, being the protective mother she is, stands in front of her daughters, ready to slaughter you so if you lay a finger on her daughters like this. However, Bela runs past the three.

“Bela, get back here!” Alcina yells

Before you could lay a finger on them, Bela throws her arms around you, holding onto you tightly. As you flail your arms about, Bela still held onto you

“It’s me,” Bela says, calmly, “It’s okay now... I’m right here. Come back to me...”

You finally stopped flailing, your blue flames dissipating and your demon eye slits turning back into their round pupils.

“Be..la?” You call

You gently place your hand on her head and the other around her. You sink into her touch and fall to your knees, Bela following your movements.

“It’s okay now,” She coos, “I’ve got you love. I’ve got you.”

You choke on your sobs as you hold onto Bela for dear life, sobbing into her shoulder.

“Bela did manage to get you out after all?” Alcina admires her oldest daughter, “And I thought I was going to have to kill her.”

Alcina sips her wine.

“Mother!” Bela growls

“I need to protect my prides and joys,” Alcina states

Bela was sitting in your lap as Daniela is huddled against your side and Cassandra on the floor facing you, Bela and Daniela.

“Do you really have to hog to the human furnace Bela? I’m the one who almost died,” Daniela growls

“She’s my girlfriend,” Bela draws the ‘girlfriend’ card for the millionth time

“How long do you intend on pulling that card against us Bela?” Cassandra asks

“As long as I want,” She smiles down at you

You smile back up at her, “Daniela, I also warmed you up in almost an instant with that amount of flames I emitted earlier. Did that not help?”

“Oh it did,” She smiles

“Then you don’t need to be complaining,” Bela scoffs

“By the way, I am digging the new look on you Hydrangea,” Cassandra says, smiling at you

Black horns with bright blue accents had remained from your blue flame horns or at least under them and a tail remained.

“Do you now Cass?” You smile, “I do too.”

Your tail unconsciously wraps itself around Bela’s waist. You could feel Bela’s fingertips playing with the fluff end of your tail, making your cheeks flush a faint pink.

“Awwww micul meu demon is blushing,” Bela teases

“Ssshut it,” You hiss

You weren’t sure how well you were going to do with that man-thing called Ethan Winters roaming around the castle. However, this was your home. You went to great lengths to protect it. Especially your new family and your girlfriend. Even if you would lose your human, you had Bela. You trust her enough to bring you back, should you lose sight of that human in you.

#bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #female reader

431 notes · View notes

elenothar · 2 years

Note

I wish you would write a fic where shen wei drinks alcohol but is awake enough to witness zyl fussing over him before he passes out (I just need soft weilan things to happen please and thank you 🥺💕)

100% support the soft weilan agenda 👌

"Cake?"

Zhao Yunlan's voice precedes his chin coming to rest on Shen Wei's shoulder from behind by only a moment. Now that he has what he calls "official permission" to touch Shen Wei whenever he wants provided their in the privacy of their home, Zhao Yunlan rarely lets an opportunity to hang all over him pass by. Shen Wei hardly minds, the long line of heat along his back a lovely reminder that he Zhao Yunlan is there, that they are both alive and Shen Wei - against all sense and expectation - gets to have this.

"My Methods of Molecular Biology class gave it to me," Shen Wei explains, turning his head enough to catch a glimpse of Zhao Yunlan's smiling face. "They insisted I take it home."

It's very sweet of them, of course. He hadn't had the heart to tell them that he doesn't have much of a taste for sweet things - or rather, perhaps, that sweet things are so intrinsically linked to a certain moment in his life that he spent too many years flinching away from them.

"Hmm, dessert," Zhao Yunlan hums in his ear.

Shen Wei smiles.

One dinner and generous praise of his cooking ability that, as usual, flushes his veins with pleased warmth, Zhao Yunlan pushes a fork into his hand. Shen Wei supposes he really should at least try the cake, since his students went to such trouble getting it for him.

They take a bite at the same time, but whereas Zhao Yunlan hums in enjoyment, Shen Wei finds his own nose wrinkling. There's a bitter underlying taste to it he hadn't expected.

Zhao Yunlan stops mid-chew, eyes gone a little wide. "Uh, Shen Wei, do your students know about your alcohol intolerance?"

Shen Wei blinks looking down at the fork. It seems to waver in his vision, edges blurring.

"What?" he says, or at least tries to say. He isn't at all certain anything intelligible came out of his mouth. Normally that would be cause for more than mild concern, but he is. Mildly concerned.

A warm hand lands on his cheek, tilting Shen Wei's head until he's blinking into Zhao Yunlan's eyes. He smiles reflexively, always happy to look at Zhao Yunlan. Yunlan's eyes are crinkling at the corners and it's the most adorable thing Shen Wei has ever seen.

"Ah, Xiao Wei, if only you knew," Zhao Yunlan says, hand sliding down to cup Shen Wei's neck. Before Shen Wei can inquire what exactly he's supposed to know, Zhao Yunlan tugs on his arm.

Shen Wei rises obediently. If Zhao Yunlan wants him to go somewhere, he'll follow. Though, aren't there dishes? Wasn't there going to be cake? The world tilts around him, very unlike what the world is supposed to be doing when he stands up.

He sags into Zhao Yunlan's hold, glad an arm suddenly appeared around his waist, strong enough to keep him upright. Has Zhao Yunlan always had Dixing powers or is that a new development?

"Well, at least you didn't pass out this time," Zhao Yunlan murmurs. It takes much more effort than usual to classify his tone, but in the end Shen Wei categorises it as some mixture of dry and amused. Pleased with that bit of analysis, he barely notices Zhao Yunlan pushing him down onto the sofa. Before he can even frown about shoes on the sofa - they look like his own shoes even, which can't be right because Shen Wei never puts his feet on the sofa cushions like some hoodlum - Zhao Yunlan is tugging something off his feet.

Time has definitely gone a bit weird. One moment Zhao Yunlan's clever fingers are working around his ankles, the next they're spreading the blanket that usually lives on the back of the sofa over Shen Wei's body.

Shen Wei reaches out clumsily, his arm not feeling quite attached to his body, and he really hopes it's not him who's making that small whiney noise. Zhao Yunlan, as always, obliges him, stepping closer to the sofa until Shen Wei's hand can reach him. Shen Wei pats appreciatively at his stomach in thanks and Zhao Yunlan huffs out a laugh.

"Stay," Shen Wei mumbles, and Zhao Yunlan does.

#fanfic #guardian #shen wei #zhao yunlan

73 notes · View notes

oscopelabs · 3 years

Text

Isn’t Everything Autobiographical?: Ethan Hawke In Nine Films And A Novel by Marya Gates

When asked during his first ever on-camera interview if he’d like to continue acting, a young Ethan Hawke replied, “I don’t know if it’s going to be there, but I’d like to do it.” He then gives a guileless shrug of relief as the interview ends, wiping imaginary sweat off his brow. The simultaneous fusion of his nervous energy and poised body language will be familiar to those who’ve seen later interviews with the actor. The practicality and wisdom he exudes at such a young age would prove to be a through-line of his nearly 40-year career. In an interview many decades later, he told Ideas Tap that many children get into acting because they’re seeking attention, but those who find their calling in the craft discover that a “desire to communicate and to share and to be a part of something bigger than yourself takes over, a certain craftsmanship—and that will bring you a lot of pleasure.”

Through Hawke’s dedication to his craft, we’ve also seen his maturation as a person unfold on screen. Though none of his roles are traditionally what we think of when we think of autobiography, many of Hawke’s roles, as well as his work as a writer, suggest a sort of fictional autobiographical lineage. While these highlights in his career are not strictly autofiction, one can trace Hawke’s Künstlerromanesque trajectory from his childhood ambitions to his life now as a man dedicated to art, not greatness.

Hawke’s first two films, Joe Dante’s sci-fi fantasy Explorers with River Phoenix and Peter Weir’s Dead Poets Society with Robin Williams, set the tone for a diverse filmography filled with popcorn fare and indie cinema in equal measure, but they also served as touchstones in his development as person drawn to self-expression through art. In an interview with Rolling Stone’s David Fear, Hawke spoke about the impact of these two films on him as an actor. When River Phoenix, his friend and co-star in Explorers, had his life cut short by a drug overdose, it hit Hawke personally. He saw from the inside what Hollywood was capable of doing to young people with talent. Hawke never attempted to break out, to become a star. He did the work he loved and kept the wild Hollywood lifestyle mostly at arm’s length.

Like any good film of this genre, Dead Poets Society is not just a film about characters coming of age, but a film that guides the viewer as well, if they are open to its message. Hawke’s performance as repressed schoolboy Todd in the film is mostly internal, all reactions and penetrating glances, rather than grandiose movements or speeches. Through his nervy body language and searching gaze, you can feel both how closed off to the world Todd is, and yet how willing he is to let change in. Hawke has said working on this film taught him that art has a real power, that it can affect people deeply. This ethos permeates many of the characters Hawke has inhabited in his career.

In Dead Poets Society, Mr. Keating (Robin Williams) tells the boys that we read and write poetry because the human race is full of passion. He insists, “poetry, beauty, romance, love—these are what we stay alive for.” Hawke gave a 2020 TEDTalk entitled Give Yourself Permission To Be Creative, in which he explored what it means to be creative, pushing viewers to ask themselves if they think human creativity matters. In response to his own question, he said “Most people don’t spend a lot of time thinking about poetry, right? They have a life to live and they’re not really that concerned with Allen Ginsberg’s poems, or anybody’s poems, until their father dies, they go to a funeral, you lose a child, somebody breaks your heart, they don’t love you anymore, and all of the sudden you’re desperate for making sense out of this life and ‘has anyone ever felt this bad before? How did they come out of this cloud?’ Or the inverse, something great. You meet somebody and your heart explodes. You love them so much, you can’t even see straight, you know, you’re dizzy. ‘Did anybody feel like this before? What is happening to me?’ And that’s when art is not a luxury. It’s actually sustenance. We need it.”

Throughout many of his roles post-Dead Poets Society, Hawke explores the nature of creativity through his embodiment of writers and musicians. Often these characters are searching for a greater purpose through art, while ultimately finding that human connection is the key. Without that human connection, their art is nothing.

We see the first germ of this attraction to portray creative people on screen with his performance as Troy Dyer in Reality Bites. As Troy Dyer, a philosophy-spouting college dropout turned grunge-band frontman in Reality Bites, Hawke was posited as a Gen-X hero. His inability to keep a job and his musician lifestyle were held in stark contrast to Ben Stiller’s yuppie TV exec Michael Grates. However in true slacker spirit, he isn’t actually committed to the art of music, often missing rehearsals, as Lelaina points out. Troy even uses his music at one point to humiliate Lelaina, dedicating a rendition of “Add It Up” by Violent Femmes to her. The lyrics add insult to injury as earlier that day he snuck out of her room after the two had sex for the first time. Troy’s lack of commitment to his music matches his inability to commit to those relationships in his life that mean the most to him.

Reality Bites is also where he first positioned himself as one of the great orators of modern cinema.” Take this early monologue, in which he outlines his beliefs to Winona Ryder’s would-be documentarian Lelaina Pierce: “There’s no point to any of this. It’s all just a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know, a quarter-pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle, and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.”

Hawke brings the same intense gaze to this performance as he did to Dead Poets Society, as if his eyes could swallow the world whole. But where Todd’s body language was walled-off, Troy’s is loud and boisterous. He’s quick to see the faults of those around him, but also the good things the world has to offer. It’s a pretty honest depiction of how self-centered your early-20s tend to be, where riding your own melt seems like the best option. As the film progresses, Troy lets others in, saying to Lelaina, “This is all we need. A couple of smokes, a cup of coffee, and a little bit of conversation. You, me and five bucks.”

Like the character, Hawke was in his early twenties and as he would continue to philosophize through other characters, they would age along with him and so would their takes on the world. If you only engage with anyone at one phase in their life, you do a disservice to the arc of human existence. We have the ability to grow and change as we learn who we are and become less self-centered. In Hawke’s career, there’s no better example of this than his multi-film turn as Jesse in the Before Trilogy. While the creation of Jesse and Celine are credited to writer-director Richard Linklater and his writing partner Kim Krizan, much of what made it to the screen even as early as the first film were filtered through the life experiences of Hawke and his co-star Julie Delpy.

In a Q&A with Jess Walter promoting his most recent novel A Bright Ray of Darkness, Hawke said that Jesse from the Before Trilogy is like an alt-universe version of himself, and through them we can see the self-awareness and curiosity present in the early ET interview grow into the the kind of man Keating from Dead Poets Society urged his students to become.

In Before Sunrise, Hawke’s Jesse is roughly the same age as Troy in Reality Bites, and as such is still in a narcissistic phase of his life. After spending several romantic hours with Celine in Vienna, the two share their thoughts about relationships. Celine says she wants to be her own person, but that she also desperately wants to love and be loved. Jesse shares this monologue, “Sometimes I dream about being a good father and a good husband. And sometimes it feels really close. But then other times it seems silly, like it would ruin my whole life. And it’s not just a fear of commitment or that I’m incapable of caring or loving because. . . I can. It’s just that, if I’m totally honest with myself, I think I’d rather die knowing that I was really good at something. That I had excelled in some way than that I’d just been in a nice, caring relationship.”

The film ends without the audience knowing if Jesse and Celine ever see each other again. That initial shock is unfortunately now not quite as impactful if you are aware of the sequels. But I think it is an astute look at two people who meet when they are still discovering who they are. Still growing. Jesse, at least, is definitely not ready for any kind of commitment. Then of course, we find out in Before Sunset that he’s fumbled his way into marriage and fatherhood, and while he’s excelling at the latter, he’s failing at the former.

As in Reality Bites, Hawke explores the dynamics of band life again in Before Sunset, when Jesse recalls to Celine how he was in a band, but they were too obsessed with getting a deal to truly enjoy the process of making music. He says to her, “You know, it's all we talked about, it was all we thought about, getting bigger shows, and everything was just...focused on the future, all the time. And now, the band doesn't even exist anymore, right? And looking back at the... at the shows we did play, even rehearsing... You know, it was just so much fun! Now I'd be able to enjoy every minute of it.”

The filming of Before Sunset happened to coincide with the dissolution of Hawke’s first marriage. And while these films are not autobiographical, everyone involved have stated that they’ve added personal elements to their characters. They even poke fun at it in the opening scene when a journalist asks how autobiographical Jesse’s novel is. True to form, he responds with a monologue, “Well, I mean, isn’t everything autobiographical? I mean, we all see the world through our own tiny keyhole, right? I mean, I always think of Thomas Wolfe, you know. Have you ever seen that little one page note to reader in the front of Look Homeward, Angel, right? You know what I'm talking about? Anyway, he says that we are the sum of all the moments of our lives, and that, anybody who sits down to write is gonna use the clay of their own life, that you can’t avoid that.”

While Before Sunset was shot in 2003, released in 2004 and this monologue refers to the fictional book within the trilogy entitled This Time, Hawke would take this same approach more than a decade later with his novel A Bright Ray of Darkness.

In the novel, Hawke crafts a quasi-autobiographical story, using his experience in theater to work through the perspective he now has on his failed marriage to Uma Thurman. Much like Jesse in Before Sunset, Hawke is reluctant to call the book autobiographical, but the parallels to his own divorce are evident. And as Jesse paraphrased Wolfe, isn’t everything we do autobiographical? In the book, movie star William Harding has blown up his seemingly picture-perfect marriage with a pop star by having an affair while filming on location in South Africa. The book, structured in scenes and acts like a play, follows the aftermath as he navigates his impending divorce, his relationship with his small children, and his performance as Hotspur in a production of Henry IV on Broadway.

Throughout much of the novel, William looks back at the mistakes he made that led to the breakup of his marriage. He’s now in his 30s and has the clarity to see how selfish he was in his 20s. Hawke, however, was in his forties while writing the book. Through the layers of hindsight, you can feel how Hawke has processed not just the painful emotional growth spurt of his 20s, but also the way he can now mine the wisdom that comes from true reflection. Still, as steeped as the novel is in self-reflection, it does not claim to have all the answers. In fact, it offers William, as well as the readers, more questions to contemplate than it does answers.

The wisdom to know that you will never quite understand everything is broached by Hawke early in the third film in the Before Trilogy, 2013’s Before Midnight. At this point in their love story, Jesse’s marriage has ended and he and Celine are parents to twin girls. Jesse has released two more books: That Time, which recounts the events of the previous film, and Temporary Cast Members of a Long-Running But Little Seen Production of a Play Called Fleeting. Before Midnight breaks the bewitching spell of the first two films by adding more cast members and showing the friction that comes with an attempt to grow old with someone. When discussing his three books, a young man says the title of his third is too long, Jesse says it wasn’t as well loved, and an older professor friend says it’s his best book because it’s more ambitious. It seems Linklater and company already knew how the departure of this third film might be regarded by fans. But it is this very departure that shows their commitment to honestly showing the passage of time and our relationship to it.

About halfway through the film Jesse and Celine depart the Greek villa where they have been spending the summer, and we finally get a one-on-one conversation like we’re used to with these films. In one exchange, I feel they summarize the point of the entire trilogy, and possibly Hawke’s entire ethos:

Jesse: Every year, I just seem to get a little bit more humbled and more overwhelmed about all the things I’m never going to know or understand.

Celine: That’s what I keep telling you. You know nothing!

Jesse: I know, I know! I'm coming around!

[Celine and Jesse laugh.]

Celine: But not knowing is not so bad. I mean, the point is to be looking, searching. To stay hungry, right?

Throughout the series, Linklater, Delpy, and Hawke explore what they call the “transient nature of everything.” Jesse says his books are less about time and more about perception. It’s the rare person who can assess themselves or the world around them acutely in the present. For most of us, it takes time and self-reflection to come to any sort of understanding about our own nature. Before Midnight asks us to look back at the first two films with honesty, to remove the romantic lens with which they first appeared to us. It asks us to reevaluate what romance even truly is.

Hawke explores this same concept again in the 2018 romantic comedy Juliet, Naked. In this adaptation of the 2009 Nick Hornby novel, Hawke plays a washed-up singer-songwriter named Tucker Crowe. He had a big hit album, Juliet, in the early ‘90s and then disappeared into obscurity. Rose Bryne plays a woman named Annie whose longtime boyfriend Duncan is obsessed with the singer and the album, stuck on the way the bummer songs about a bad breakup make him feel. As the film begins, Annie reveals that she thinks she’s wasted 15 years of her life with this schmuck. This being a rom-com, we know that Hawke and Byrne’s characters will eventually meet-cute. What’s so revelatory about the film is its raw depiction of how hard it is for many to reassess who they really are later in life.

Duncan is stuck as the self-obsessed, self-pitying person he likely was when Annie first met him, but she reveals he was so unlike anyone else in her remote town that she looked the other way for far too long. Now it’s almost too late. By chance, she connects with Crowe and finds a different kind of man.

See, when Crowe wrote Juliet, he also was a navel-gazing twentysomething whose emotional development had not yet reached the point of being able to see both sides in a romantic entanglement. He worked through his heartbreak through art, and though it spoke to other people, he didn’t think about the woman or her feelings on the subject. In a way, Crowe’s music sounds a bit like what Reality Bites’s Troy Dyer may have written, if he ever had the drive to actually work at his music. Eventually, it’s revealed that Crowe walked away from it all when Julie, the woman who broke his heart, confronted him with their child—something he was well aware of, but from which he had been running away. Faced with the harsh reality of his actions and the ramifications they had on the world beyond his own feelings, he ran even farther away from responsibility. In telling the story to Annie, he says, “I couldn’t play any of those songs anymore, you know? After that, I just... I couldn’t play these insipid, self-pitying songs about Julie breaking my heart. You know, they were a joke. And before I know it, a couple of decades have gone by and some doctor hands me... hands me Jackson. I hold him, you know, and I look at him. And I know that this boy. . . is my last chance.”

When we first meet Crowe, he’s now dedicated his life to raising his youngest son, having at this point messed up with four previous children. The many facets of parenthood is something that shows up in Hawke’s later body of work many times, in projects as wholly different as Brooklyn’s Finest, Before Midnight, Boyhood, Maggie’s Plan, First Reformed, and even his novel A Bright Ray of Darkness. In each of these projects, decisions made by Hawke’s characters have a big impact on their children’s lives. These films explore the financial pressures of parenthood, the quirks of blended families, the impact of absent fathers, and even the tragedy of a father’s wishes acquiesced without question. Hawke’s take on parenthood is that of flawed men always striving to overcome the worst of themselves for the betterment of the next generation, often with mixed results.

Where Juliet, Naked showed a potential arc of redemption for a father gone astray, First Reformed paints a bleaker portrait. Hawke plays Pastor Toller, a man of the cloth struggling with his own faith who attempts to counsel an environmental activist whose impending fatherhood has driven him to suicidal despair. Toller himself is struggling under the weight of fatherhood, believing he sent his own son to die a needless death in a morally bankrupt war. Sharing the story, he says “My father taught at VMI. I encouraged my son to enlist. It was the family tradition. Like his father, his grandfather. Patriotic tradition. My wife was very opposed. But he enlisted against her wishes. . . . Six months later he was killed in Iraq. There was no moral justification for this conflict. My wife could not live with me after that. Who could blame her? I left the military. Reverend Jeffers at Abundant Life Church heard about my situation. They offered me a position at First Reformed. And here I am.” How do we carry the weight of actions that affect lives that are not even our own?

If Peter Weir set the father figure template in Dead Poets Society, and Paul Schrader explored the consequences of direct parental influence on their children’s lives, director Richard Linklater subverts the idea of a mentor-guide in Boyhood, showing both parents are as lost as the kid himself. When young Mason (Ellar Coltrane) asks his dad (Hawke) what’s the point of everything, his reply is “I sure as shit don’t know. Nobody does. We’re all just winging it.” As the film ends, Mason sits atop a mountain with a new friend he’s made in the dorms discussing time. She says that everyone is always talking about seize the moment—carpe diem!—but she thinks it’s the other way around. That the moments seize us. In Reality Bites, Troy gets annoyed at Lelaina’s constant need to “memorex” everything with her camcorder, yet Boyhood is a film about capturing a life over a 12-year period. The Before Trilogy checks in on Jesse and Celine every nine years. Hawke’s entire career. in fact, has captured his growth from an awkward teen to a prolific artist and devoted father, a master of his craft and philosopher at heart.

#ethan hawke #boyhood #before trilogy #before midnight #before sunset #before sunrise #reality bites #first reformed #dead poets society #a bright ray of darkness #film writing #film essay #musings #oscilloscope laboratories

139 notes · View notes

roscgcld · 3 years

Text

INUMAKI TOGE || scary man

request: The little sister ask is so cute is it okay to ask something like it I don't want to bother you, but if it okay then inumaki toge x little sister reader (5 or6), where she is scared of them because he doesn't visit a lot and is quite so whenever he visit she hides under the bed , poor baby would be so sad,also imagine the other 2d years trying to help him,

I forgot to add this sorry when the other second year try to help him it backfire because she gets attached to maki instead ( string beautiful woman a big sister!) Sorry again for forgetting your writing is so good

note: hello love! no this was not a bother to me at all! I enjoyed writing that imagine! i wouldn’t mind writing a short imagine for this! also, thank you for thinking my writing is good c: it is average at best, but i feel your love~ i hope you enjoy this though!

pronouns: she/her

scene: before yuji’s appearance in the story; since it will be weird to only have maki ><

"This is going to be your future school, by the way!” A tall white man with a blindfold said to the young girl, who was holding onto his hand tightly as she stared at the school in awe. Today was a special day, the Inumaki clan had revealed to the world another Inumaki heir; one with strong cursed energy that is quite the force to be reckoned with. Even though she doesn’t have the Cursed Speech Ability like her older brother does, she still has all the qualms to be a powerful sorcerer in the future. So, with that, Gojo somehow convinces the Inumaki elders to let the young girl to visit the college.

The main reason? For his own student, of course!

Everyone knows how much Toge misses his family, more specifically, his baby sister. He hasn’t seen her since she was born, besides the odd visit here and there that never seems to end well for the two of them. When she was first born, she loved her older brother to pieces, not minding his tattoos and how quiet the man was. But the older she got, and the more she spends time around others who look relatively normal, it become a shock to her system when she realised that her “onii-chan” has scary tattoos on the side of his face.

And only speaks in onigiri ingredients too! What kind of person talks like that?

Gojo had heard this little ‘issue’ form Yuta one day, after noticing that Toge looking more glum then usual after the school gave students permission to return home over the weekend. So, as the loving sensei he is, why wouldn’t he pull some strings to let the youngest Inumaki heir to come and visit the college? She is going to enroll here in the future anyway; and since her brother was going to be there to keep an eye on her as well, his parents had agreed to let her go with the white haired shaman.

Which was how we found the little girl, wide eyed and dressed in a adorable purple and white kimono, walking beside her guardian for the day. Gojo found the young girl quite adorable, having to hold her tiny hand firmly so she was not running about the school to explore. He didn’t want her to fall and hurt herself, since she was technically under his case; but he also wants to see her reaction to seeing her older brother. “Y/N-chan, shall we go and see the onee-chan and onii-chan I told you about?”

Immediately the girl’s eyes widen as she nodded her head in excitement, soft pigtails bouncing along with her movements. Gojo had to slap a hand over his face to stop his laughter from leaving. He may not want kids, but he does find kids absolutely adorable; and wouldn’t mind taking care of them from time to time. “Let’s go then, cutie!” He said after he took a moment to calm down, laughing when the little girl just tugged on his arm excitedly as she tried to lead the way.

Only to pause when they reached a courtyard and turned to look at the older man with a soft pout; as if silently telling him that she’s lost now.

Gojo grins and reaches over to pat the top of her head before he led her towards the courtyard, where he was sure the second year students were resting at. The second years were all on break right now, having had 3 hours of lessons earlier in the day. So the man was able to locate them at their usual resting spot - the cherry blossom gardens, resting on the soft grass under the shade of the still budding cherry blossom trees.

“Yo, second years! I have a guest I want you to meet!” Gojo called out as he led the little girl towards them, who now switch to grabbing onto the fabric of his pants as they made their way towards the small group. Maki and Yuta shared a confused look, wondering if Gojo had fathered a child along the way. Panda had opened one lazy eye, his nose twitching a little at the sight of the young girl. Only Inumaki looked like he had an idea on who she is, perking up a little as he got up hastily. “Bonito flakes!”

“That’s right!” Gojo said with a grin as he clapped, gesturing to the girl that was hiding behind the tall man’s legs; peeking over at the group shyly. “Let me introduce you to the youngest Inumaki heir, and younger sister to our dear Toge-kun, Inumaki Y/N!” He introduced before he carefully coax the girl from behind his legs, squatting down before her as he gave the unsure girl a smile. “Now, Y/N-chan - how do we greet people?”

Immediately the young girl pauses before she faces the group once more, folding her hands before her before she gave them a soft bow. “It’s nice to meet you all.” She said in a soft and shy voice, causing both Maki and Yuta to coo at how cute she was. Neither of them have met Toge’s little sister before, besides seeing the odd video and picture from their friend; so seeing the young girl that’s no more than six shyly greeting them definitely causes them to find her adorable.

Toge, on the other hand, was ecstatic. Even though he does not see her as often, due to college and all, he still loves his baby sister to death. Without a fail he will send birthday and christmas presents to the young girl, receiving videos of his baby sister unwrapping them on camera and thanking him with the cutest smile on her face. However, he knows that she still does fear him - so he wasn’t too shocked when she just shyly clutched onto the front of Gojo’s uniform; shaking her head repeated whilst the older man tried to coax her to go and greet the others.

Yuta, as if feeling her distress, decided to get up and gestures for his friend to follow, both boys quietly making their way towards her whilst Maki stayed back to watch with a smile. “Hello there.” Yuta greeted quietly as he bent down to her height, giving the young girl a welcoming smile whilst Toge stood over the two of them. “My name is Yuta, you must be Toge’s younger sister?” He asks in a kind tone as he gestures to the other boy, who just waves at his sister warmly.

At the sight of the two males, the younger girl freezes up before burying herself deeper into Gojo’s jacket, causing the older man to chuckle as he rests his palm on her back soothingly. “Don’t be scared. Like I said, they are nice people.” He tried to coax the little girl, who refused to pull her face out of his uniform jacket. Her action caused Toge’s shoulders to sag a little, feeling bad that his own baby sister was scared of him.

It wasn’t his fault that his ability causes him to have tattoos on the side of his mouth and tongue. He remembers crying about it when he was younger too, but had gotten used to it ever since. Plus, a few of his uncles and aunts carry the same markings too, so he didn’t feel too alone.

But when your own baby sister is clearly scared of you, anyone would be sad.

Maki, as if sensing the tension, got up before she made her way towards the two, gently smacking the back of Yuta’s head as she squatted down beside the male; who glared at her in response as he rubbed the back of his head lightly. “You’re hopeless.” She grumbled before she turned to face the little girl with a smile, who had shyly glanced over the new addition to the group. “Y/N-chan, my name is Maki.” The woman greeted in a surprisingly soft tone, causing the little girl to loosen her hold a little on Gojo’s jacket. “Your onii-chan has told us a lot about you, and Yuta and I are quite excited that you came to visit us all the way in Tokyo.”

The three males shared a shocked look, having never expected Maki to be able to converse in such a soft tone with anyone before. But somehow she is doing it - quietly talking and coaxing the girl out of Gojo’s jacket; and soon the two girls joined hands to go to the vending machine to grab a drink. Yuta and Toge both blinked, sharing a look between each other whilst the two girls slowly faded off into the distance. Even Gojo was quite shocked by the outcome, grinning over at the two as he rest his face in his hand, his elbow resting on his bent knee with a grin. “Oya? Seems like you’ve got some competition for attention, Toge-kun.”

“...Tuna.” Toge huffed, and if his zipper was down, there was definitely a pout set on his lips as he looked away from the grinning older man. “Gojo-sensei.” Yuta said with a soft frown as he glances over at his teacher disapprovingly, who only gave a cheeky smile in response. Yuta ignored the older male as he got up, gently patting Toge on the shoulder with a smile as his friend glances over at the slightly taller male. “Don’t mind, Toge - I am sure all we need to do is help her warm up to you a little more. I mean, it’s been awhile since you’ve last saw her. Maybe she just needs more time.”

Toge gave his friend an uncertain look, but it wasn’t like there was any other choice. So he just sighs softly before he nods in defeat, to which Yuta just smiles and squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry - I am sure she’ll talk to you eventually.

As the day continue to go by, Toge was pretty sure that there was no way the two of you are going to be bonding anytime soon.

Throughout the entire day, you have been clearly shadowing Maki around; asking her if she can teach you things, following her about as she went to class; clinging onto her every word as she entertained your curious questions. Yuta wasn’t any better then Toge, but she still managed to talk to him without flinching or running away from him; but she’d have to be clutching onto Maki or be close to the older girl whenever she’s conversing with Yuta. Even Panda had some interactions with you - well, it was more so you jumping and climbing all over the panda with the bright smile and loudly giggles whilst Panda laid there, letting you climb about his fluffy body.

However Maki did actually try to get the younger girl to talk to him - asking the young girl to go and ask if her older brother wanted a drink after class, quietly coaxing her to go and ask him for things like snacks or change for snacks. The younger girl though, was not having it - shaking her head with tearful eyes, silently begging the older girl without using her words. This caused Toge to deflate and his mood to drop significantly. It wasn’t like he can control his appearance to begin with.

To be honest, he had never thought much about his appearance. Because of this, he was used to getting comments and hiding his tattoos so he didn’t really stand out - but when it’s his baby sister, who he loves with his entire heart, is the one scared of him?

Now that was just another low.

Toge whines as he leans back into his seat, watching his baby sister going about following Maki as she went about her day. Yuta, who was seated next to the sulking teen, glances over at him in amusement as he finishes his mouthful of water. “Maybe she just needs some time to warm up to you.” He tried to offer, feeling bad that he was feeling this way. He was sure having your baby sister fear you was probably not the best feeling. Must have been another slap to the face when she ended up falling about your best friend. “I mean, she’s still young. She’ll grow out of this.”

The same boy just whines and tilts his head back with his eyes closed, trying not to think about the entire thing. It was because of this that he didn’t hear soft whispers and footsteps, only looking over curiously when he felt someone gently tapping on his knee. Opening his eyes quietly, he looks pulls his head up just in time to see his baby sister, cheeks rosy and eyes downcast as she held out a crudely picked bunch of flowers. Maki stood beside the young girl with an amused look on her face, looking over at Toge with a raised eyebrow when he looks up as well. “Salmon?”

“Y/N here said she wanted to make you feel better.” Maki said with a grin as he reaches down to pet the soft girl on the hair whilst the young girl just shyly nods her head. “She felt bad, since I told her that you’re sad that she’s scared of you.” Maki continues whilst Toge blinks before he carefully takes the flowers from the girl’s young hand. Quietly she wrapped her arms around his legs, since he was seated on a few seats higher from the ground.

Her reaction caused Toge to freeze, watching as she nuzzles closer and tighter her grip even more. “...D-Don’t be sad, Nee-chan.” She mumbles out in a soft voice, one so pure and innocent that it had all the seniors coo at the little girl quietly. “I-I promise to be a g-good girl..”

Toge felt his heart melt, the sadness he felt from the day melting along with him as he reaches over to pat the top of her head gently. He had hoped that his actions spoke louder then words for him, offering the girl a soft chuckle when she just looks up at him with a bright smile. Wordlessly she held her tiny hand out for him, causing Toge to tilt his head as he grabbed it; letting the little girl start to drag him about somewhere.

Maki and Yuta decided to sit back as they watch the two siblings go off to somewhere on campus, probably to the pond located on the temple grounds to feed the fish together. “How did you convince her to approach Toge?” Yuta asks with a raised eyebrow as Maki took Toge’s place on the stone steps, her long sword resting by her side. “Oh, I just explained that her older brother loves her a lot, and ask her who do you think gets you all of those gifts on her birthday.”

“Ah, guilt tripping.” Yuta teases with a grin whilst Maki just rolls her eyes with a chuckle, nudging him softly. “I would say it’s teasing her how to count her blessing.” Was Maki’s reply as they watch the two walk deeper into the campus, Toge nodding his head with an excited look whilst the young girl was talking non-stop about something.

“But hey, at least both of them look happy.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #inumaki #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk inumaki #jjk inumaki x reader #inumaki to/ge #okkotsu yuta #jjk okkotsu #zenin maki #zenin clan #gojo satoru #jjk maki #jjk gojo

465 notes · View notes