#everything is very incomplete still anyway

[yuwuta]

JUST KEEP LOVING ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU LOVING ME — SATORU GOJO

pairings. satoru gojo/reader

content, warnings. non-curse au, doctor au (reader), ceo au (satoru), no real content warnings, fluff, satoru is nothing but a romantic at heart

word count. 3k

notes. this exists in the post-completion au of a larger universe/incomplete fic of mine, that i will hopefully finish someday lololol but this is way easier to write than that so here you go 🥳

“There are four chairs worth a collective seventy-five hundred dollars in this office, so, pray, tell, why is your ass on my desk?” 

Satoru grins at your words, too distracted by taking in the sight of you to take into consideration the underlying threat. It’s been far too long, almost three whole days since he’s last seen you and, god, you look good. He knows if he said that you’d roll your eyes and insist that there’s nothing good-looking about your worn-in business attire and lab coat that was in desperate need of laundering, but it wouldn’t change his opinion: you always look good, and Satoru really fucking missed you. 

Which is why he doesn’t say the words, but makes sure to throw a deceivingly charming wink your way so that you get the message anyway. As expected, you still roll your eyes, but he doesn’t mind; you look good doing that, too.

“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” you question, closing the door behind you when you fully step into the room. You make pace towards your desk, attempting to get to the other side, but this is exactly why Satoru chose to lean against it instead of sitting on any one of your very expensive and comfortable chairs—because this way, he’s in the perfect position to intercept your path and pull you to fit neatly between his legs before you can even think about reaching your office chair and ignoring him. 

He pulls you by the loop of your lab coat, but his hands quickly find their way to your shoulders, unpeeling the white layer just enough so that your blouse is exposed to him, and he can slowly rub his palms against your arms and shoulders with just enough pressure to hopefully release some tension. You won’t let go of all of it, but that’s alright, because Satoru’s got other methods for taking care of you.

“Hi,” he calls, smiling gently down at you, “I missed you.” 

This close, Satoru can see the exhaustion clearly in your eyes. There’s more, too: frustration, guilt, worry—and it takes everything in him not to coo and pull you into his chest and do his best to shield you from the world forever. 

There’s a beat before you speak, a small sigh, that’s quickly painted over with a tired smile and a remorseful, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so short, the interim chief has been getting on my last nerves, and—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Satoru cuts in, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax under his touch. “I know you’re busy. I just missed you.” 

It’s not easy to share you with anything or anyone, but Satoru knows that even on the hardest days, you love your job, and that so many people need your brilliant mind. What he does mind is when people make your job harder than it needs to be, and he’s been getting an earful about this new interim chief from just about everybody—you, Kento, Yuuji, Ieiri, even some of your favorite scrub nurses have indulged him in the gossip about the newest common enemy—and he doesn’t appreciate that someone is putting extra stress on his baby. So, even if it is a makeshift massage in your office and distracting you from your paperwork, Satoru will do what he can to help you relieve tension. 

You reach your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, taking a half step closer to him, peering up at him. Satoru loves when your arms are around his neck like this; he can’t quite pinpoint why—maybe it’s the way you have to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you’re perfectly nestled under his view, the feeling of being wrapped in you. He does his best to close the loop of your intimacy, resting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax into his touch.

“You’re sweet,” you smile, rubbing your thumb against the shorter hairs at the back of his head. Satoru feels himself melt into you, too. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close, three whole days too long. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, baby,” he smiles, stealing a gentle kiss. Satoru loves this the most, loves the feeling of your lips on his—and it’s definitely been too long since he’s kissed you, so he makes sure to do it again, and once more after that for good measure. 

But it’s not enough. He’ll have to take you home, sit you on the couch so he can kiss you all night and make up for the lack of kisses and touches and youness he’s been deprived of these past few days. But first, he’ll have to pull you away from your work, and that’s not easy work. 

“Come home,” he muses, leaning his forehead against yours, “We can order in, and share your favorite bottle of wine, and watch a movie.” 

You lean up to kiss him briefly. “Every time we share a bottle of wine, we end up making out and not watching anything.” 

“Do we?” Satoru feigns innocence, “I never noticed. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”

“Satoru,” you whisper, quiet but firm, with a smile that lets him know you want to, but you can’t. It’s a tone that Satoru knows all too well, and isn’t particularly fond of. “I have charts to finish.” 

“Finish them tomorrow,” he steals another kiss, “Or pawn them off on Kento,” another kiss, “Or Yuuji. Residents always need more experience—isn’t that what you and Ieiri always say?” 

You let him kiss you again, and again, and again. Each time a little longer, a little warmer, a little less innocent than the last, growing from a little, to a lot, to all-consuming. Satoru hums when he feels your nails raking through his hair; an unfortunate move, as the sound pulls you back to reality and away from him in a decrescendo of kisses. 

“You’re really good at that,” you laugh, voice soft. 

“At kissing?” Satoru dips his head down to taste your laughter against his lips, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with a very pretty girl.” 

“No,” and you’re laughing again, louder this time, and Satoru counts every little giggle as a victory, “You’re good at... seducing me without saying you’re seducing me.”

“Oh, that?” he grins, tucking his pointer and index finger under your chin to meet you in a knowing kiss, “Yeah, that’s a talent of mine, too.”

You let him steal one more, and Satoru doesn’t take it for granted. “Come home,” he whispers against your lips before slotting them in yet another kiss, “I miss you.” 

And he can feel it when you finally break, sighing into the kiss, and melting into his touch completely. One more, he just needs one more kiss to seal the deal, and then—“Fine,” you concede, “But I get to choose where to get dinner from.” 

“Of course, sweets, whatever you want,” Satoru grins, pulling back to kiss your forehead again, “Now—shall we? If we order in the car, we can probably pick it up on our way home.”

He’s in the home stretch now, but he’s not completely free: if you catch a glimpse of your work, or someone comes in to find you, or your godforsaken pager beeps then all of his plans could come crumbling down before him. The key to transitioning from the “you’ve agreed to come home with him early stage”—if you can count 9:45pm, coming off of a 17-hour work day as early—to the “we are actually leaving this hospital and nobody can stop us phase” is swiftness. This time period is critical, and Satoru is ready for the sprint. 

He shimmies your lab coat all the way off of your body for you, checking for the weight of your pager in your right pocket, before hanging it on the back of your chair. He shoos you to grab your coat, and makes sure you don’t get within three feet of this side of your desk—taking your purse out of your locked drawer and closing an open file folder in the time it takes you to slip out of your heels and into your sneakers, and by the time you’re turning back around, Satoru is already there next to you, with your purse in one hand, and his other hovering on the light switch. 

He makes sure you’re out the door first, and flickers off the light with a satisfied grin. His baby was coming home early with him, and there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend time pampering you. 

You must truly be more tired than you know, because you make no protest when he slings an arm over your shoulder on your way out of the elevator. Usually, you chastise him for any PDA within hospital walls, but tonight you let it be, even leaning some of your body weight against his as you walk. Satoru’s not complaining at all, maybe he’ll try his luck and sneak a kiss on your cheek. 

He decides to go for it, leaning over for a kiss, when you suddenly pull away, turning and patting against your side. Confused, and disappointed, Satoru pouts, “We’ve really got to work on this fear of affection you’ve got going on, sweets. It’s the leading cause of makesatorupout-itis.” 

“We’ve been over this—you can’t just add “itis” to the end of your words to make them diagnostic,” you giggle, “I was looking for my keys.”

Satoru’s frown deepens. “You have the fancy reserved doctor parking space, they can’t tow you. So, we can take my car home.” 

“No, we cannot, because I do not trust you to wake up and drive me back tomorrow morning.” 

“Then I’ll get you a cab in the morning, or—even better, I’ll call Ichiji to pick you up.” 

“Ichiji is still in Paris,” you remind him. Satoru purses his lips. He did ask Ichiji to stay with Megumi. Damn it.

“I have other cars, you can drive one of them in the morning.” 

“And park it where?” 

“In your fancy reserved doctor parking—oh, okay I see the flaw there,” Satoru pulls back. You find amusement in his disappointment, but he doesn’t think there’s anything funny here. 

He shakes his head. He should have taken a cab from his office, but this is okay, a minor setback, nothing he can’t think around. “New plan: we take your car, and I’ll come by to get mine tomorrow. Easy peasy.” 

“Yours will be towed by then.” 

“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugs, “I can afford a tow fee.” 

“Satoru,” you call, reaching your free hand up to place your palm against his cheek, “We both drive home. It’ll be thirty minutes, tops. Forty if there’s traffic, but if you stop pouting and we leave now, we should be fine.” 

Satoru sighs. He knows that’s the most reasonable plan of action, but the simple truth is that he doesn’t want to be away from you right now, even to go the short distance home. He’s already spent the last few days without you, and even though this is calling it in early for you, he only gets maybe four hours awake with you before you’re off again. Thinking about that makes him miss you again already. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care.

“Oh, Dr. (_____), hey!” Yuuji’s voice is an easily distinguishable interruption to your petty argument, and Satoru’s sulking, “Perfect timing—I’m glad I caught you before you left. Is it okay if I ask you to sign something before you go?” 

You easily warm up to the younger boy and agree, fondly making conversation with Yuuji as he scrolls through some documents on his tablet. And just as you’ve finished scribbling your signature along the screen, Satoru has a bright idea. 

“Hey, Yuuji, you can drive right?” Satoru questions rhetorically, already reaching for his wallet and car keys, “Great! Here’s two grand, it’s all yours if you drive this car home tonight.” Satoru smiles widely, shoving his keys and some cash into the pocket of Yuuji’s white coat. 

“What—really? Awesome! But, why—” 

Satoru dismisses his disbelief with a wave of his hand. He steps a bit closer to Yuuji, just enough to lean into his ear and tuck a couple more bills into his pocket, “And between you and me, that’s an extra three grand if you finish up a couple of charts for my lady so she can sleep in tomorrow. Not a bad deal, right?” 

“Sure, no problem!” Yuuji salutes, “I’d do anything for Dr. Almost-Gojo. Plus, if I’m busy working for her, then I don’t have to babysit cells in a dish for Dr. Gakuganji.” 

“Atta boy,” Satoru ruffles his hair, “Catch you later, Yuuji, I’ve got a hot date to get to. And tell Nanamin I say hello!” 

You elbow Satoru shallowly, a silent warning to keep his voice down, and a verbal chastising of, “It’s Dr. Itadori and Dr. Nanamin to you.”

“More like Dr. Nanameanie,” Satoru laments, resuming the position of his arm around your shoulder, “I’ve left him six calls this week! He’s so cruel—he knows I have to leave next week and he’s depriving me of one on one time. I think I’m gonna have to sneak into his office at lunch tomorrow and confront him.”

Despite his crass words and dramatics, you laugh, and so, Satoru smiles. He finally gets that cheek kiss right as you two reach your car, bending down to plant one for you at the same time he steals your keys from your hand and banishes you to the passenger seat. He’s not much of a driver himself, despite his excess amount of cars, but you’re his baby and you deserve to be driven around no matter the case, but especially when you’ve spent all day taking care of other people. 

Plus, on days like this, if he’s real careful and smooth, you fall asleep in the car and he gets to carry you inside. He makes that his goal for the next thirty minutes, and he succeeds in twenty, confirmed by your soft snores just as he pulls into the curbside pick-up spot of your favorite restaurant. He retrieves the take-out as quietly as possible, before making the rest of the journey home, taking the time to glance over at you during red lights. 

Satoru loves the way you look when you’re asleep, loves to see you well-rested, but something even more dear to him than that is a fact that Nanami let slip in the aftermath of a dinner party he’d hosted about a year after you two had started dating: “She never sleeps outside of her bed, for as long as I’ve known her,” he muses, nodding to your sleeping figure on Satoru’s couch, “Not even in the on-call rooms during our 72 hour shifts. She must... she must really trust you, Satoru.” 

(He also recalls the awfully strong grip on his shoulder and subsequent shovel talk Kento gave him a moment later. Not that Satoru ever had anything but pure intentions with you, but the threat of breaking Kento’s best friend’s heart was more than enough to keep his commitments in check).

Satoru peers at you fondly in his arms, held bridal style with the takeout in the grip of a pinky finger, glancing up only to nod and thank his doorman for pushing the penthouse button for him. Satoru prides himself on many things, but the one thing he always holds in his highest regards is you: call him cocky, but he thinks he’s quite good at caring for you, that there’s nobody else fit to look after you the way that he can; and knowing that you feel safe in his arms is the highest honor he could achieve in this life.

He sets you carefully on the couch once he steps inside the apartment, and places the food on the coffee table. He debates whether or not he should wake you up now; he hates to, but he knows you need to eat, and, selfishly, he wants to cash in on those few hours he has with you to hear your voice. 

He’ll dish out the food first, and then wake you up to eat, he decides. He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, eyes flicking to your face, and pausing at your neck, where your engagement ring rests crookedly against your skin. You must have had an emergency surgery today, he thinks; your schedule for today was originally just to round on post-op patients and attend some meetings, but you knot the ring into your chain when you have to scrub into the operating room. 

Carefully, Satoru reaches to undo it from the chain, and slips it back onto your ring finger. It looks pretty against your skin when it’s around your neck, but personally, he thinks it looks best this way, the sparkle of the aquamarine against the halo of diamonds fits perfectly across the width of your finger, just the way he had it made to be.

Satoru bends down even further to kiss the back of your hand, before laying it to rest on your stomach. He might need to bribe Yuuji to take care of some more work for you, you two really should get a move on that wedding planning, and you’re going to need at least a week off to fly and visit his grandma’s pastry shop in Osaka for cake tasting.

He smiles at the thought. He doesn’t feel so bad about waking you up now—wedding talk seems like the perfect way to end the evening if you ask him; there would be no sweeter sound than hearing how you imagine the start of the rest of your lives to be. 

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #jjk texts #satoru smut #satoru fluff #jjk smau #toji smut #toji x reader

[vashs-turtleneck]

Say my name.

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) Summary: After your heartfelt reunion with your boyfriend, Vash realizes how much he's missed hearing you say his name. Pairing: Eriks!Vash x fem!reader Word count: 6.5k Content: smut, angst, established relationship, oral, p in v sex, reunion sex, very service top Vash A/N: bro this took me so long. I put more effort into this than anything else I have ever written. Anyway, this is my first ever smut fic so uh please enjoy (had to make it eriks because he does things to my brain chemistry)

NSFW below, 18+ only, minors do not interact!

Vash holds your hand through the rickety, quaint house, helping guide you as you walk, avoiding the floorboards he knows creak louder than the others. As much as Granny and Lina adore you, he didn't feel like explaining why he was sneaking you in so late at night. Not only that, he didn't want to explain your relationship to them just yet. After all, the two of you haven't even gotten the chance to properly talk yet, about what your reunion after his two year absence means for you both.

Vash finally guides you into his little bedroom, quietly shutting and locking the door behind you two. He cringes at the how the door hinges creak loudly into the hallway, hoping it wasn't enough to wake anyone.

"So 'Eriks', huh? Did you pick the name all by yourself?" You tease him as your eyes dart around the room, taking in the space your lover has been living in these passed two years. Or... he was your lover. Is he still your lover? For all you know he found someone else during his time here. No, wait, that can't be right. He just snuck you into his bedroom.

Vash chuckles quietly, his gaze never leaving you. "Yeah... guess I did."

You can feel his eyes burrowing into you. His gaze follows you as you curiously take in the room, as you pat the bed draped in old linens, as you look out the window, taking in the scenery, the stars and moons illuminating the sky above. You've always had a tendency to look up at the sky.

God, you're as beautiful as he remembers.

He's pulled out of his own thoughts when you speak again, realizing he's been staring at you the whole time.

"Nice little spot you have all to yourself. Sheryl and Lina are both so sweet. They really do love you, I can tell. They're like family now, hm?" You say as your eyes finally meet his, your voice remaining soft, yet a hint of somberness weaving its way in. "You... You have a good life here."

You feel your heart start to beat faster, your head filling with a million questions that you're almost too scared to know the answers to. What if there was no room for you in his life anymore? What if he wanted to leave everything about his old self in the past, including you? What if, what if, what if...

You start to absentmindedly pick at the skin around your nails and rubbing your palms, subconsciously trying to calm and ground yourself. You're starting to lose yourself to your own mind, horrible thoughts filling your head like a poison.

Vash immediately notices the change in your tone, the subtle, shaky uncertainty in your voice, the way you anxiously play with your hands... Old habits die hard, huh?

"I do. The people here have been very kind to me. It's mostly quiet, apart from when I get myself into trouble. I'm grateful every day for it."

He takes a step towards you, his arms outstretched slightly.

"But, my life here is... incomplete without you by my side, mayfly."

He wants to hold you, feel your body against his, remind himself that you're really here, but he hesitates. What if you despise him for abandoning you? For leaving you behind to think he was dead? Worse, what if you hate him for the sins he's committed? For destroying July and taking the lives of its people? Not that he could ever blame you if you did. He hates himself for it. It's the whole reason he left you behind in the first place. How could he ever face you again after he became the walking demon with the 60 billion double dollar bounty on his head? He deserves every bit of venom spat his way for the things he's done, every bit of the nickname 'The Humanoid Typhoon'.

Yet, despite how much he knows he doesn't deserve you, he wants you so bad. Every moment without you had been agony. He didn't know where you were, how you were doing, if you were even alive. Hell, he wondered if he killed you in July too. So when he finally saw your face again, he swears he felt his heart beat for the first time in two years.

"Mayfly, I... I don't deserve you. I don't. I'm a monster." He takes another step towards you, trying to bridge the gap between you both. "...but I can't live without you. I... I need you. Here. With me."

He's fighting back tears, trying desperately to keep himself together. His vision is blurring from the tears pooling in his eyes, and all he can see is your wide-eyed expression. You're so beautiful, even if you might be about to break his heart.

"If you don't feel the same, I understand. If you want to hit me and yell at me for all I've done, I won't put up a fight. If... If you hate me-" Vash's words are cut short when you rush towards him and plant your lips against his in a feverish kiss, throwing your arms around his shoulders and clinging to him desperately.

Vash stays motionless and rigid in a moment of shock before he's flooded with relief at the feeling of your lips, your body, just you. His prosthetic naturally encircles your waist, pulling you in closer as his flesh hand tenderly cups your cheek, tilting your head to meet his lips with a practiced touch that makes it feels like you were never apart.

You became a shell of a person the day you watched him fall from the sky, like an angel stripped of their wings. You spent the passed two years believing, convincing yourself he had to be alive, or else you would have been lost completely.

With his lips finally pressed to yours, you feel whole again.

Vash can feel your lower lip tremble against his own, your tears mingling with his against both your faces as you each pull the other closer, closer, until there's no space left between your bodies, his stubble scratching your chin.

Your lips meet again and again, each kiss more desperate than the last, pants and sobs and the sounds of lips smacking filling the otherwise dead silent room.

"I missed you." You breathe against his lips, voice cracking from the overwhelming feelings of relief, love, and pain flooding you.

And Vash whines in turn, prosthetic tightening its grip around you.

"I missed you too. So much. Every day I thought about you." He whispers back, his voice strained, flesh hand pulling your face closer by the back of your neck. "I love you, I love you, I missed you."

"Love you too. Missed you so much..." Your voice comes out as a sob, trembling and broken. Your hands tangle into his soft locks. His hair is much longer now, the golden blonde mixing with dark raven.

You feel his tongue tease your lower lip, the warm muscle begging for entry, and you're happy to grant it. When your tongues entangle, he feels himself shudder with want, his body heating up as he gets reacquainted with the taste of your mouth. His hands move down your body, sliding down your waist, past your hips, and hooking themselves beneath the plush of your thighs. He lifts you up with ease, encircling your legs around his waist.

It's not close enough. He needs you closer.

He carries you to the edge of his bed, gently lowering you and as he towers over you, broad shoulders caging you in beneath him. He pulls himself from your lips and holds his weight on his hands, palms against the mattress beside your head. His face is flushed, lips wet with your kiss.

Vash is silent as he looks at your face, tears still staining his cheeks, his gaze reverent and adoring, yet filled with tragedy, like he almost doesn't believe you're real. His flesh hand cups your face again. His thumb traces your lips, your cheekbone, your jawline, his palm resting against your cheek. He takes in your features, committing the way your face has changed over the past two years to memory. You have new lines around your eyes, signs of how time kept passing for you, even without him around, signs of aging that he knows you won't see on his face. Fuck, he's lost this precious time with you, years he'll never be able to get back. Gone, just like that.

He'll be damned if he loses anymore time with you.

His hand trails down, thumb sliding along the side of your neck, down to the bit of your collarbone peeking from under your shirt. His breath hitches at the feeling of your soft skin beneath his hands, how your legs stay wrapped around his hips, your arms clinging to his shoulders like a lifeline. He can feel your body heating up at his touch, like it remembers him. He's missed you. He's missed your touch. So much.

"Please, I- I need to see you. Please." He begs, voice already breathless and needy.

"N-Need to see you too. I need you so much." Your voice comes out as a pathetic whine, but at this point you don't care. He's here. You have him again. You need him.

Vash wraps his prosthetic around your waist as he gently lifts your upper body up enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. With your shirt finally off, you can feel contrast of his arms on your body, the cool metal of one, and the warmth of the other.

"I missed you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for leaving you, mayfly. I'm so-"

You stifle his apologies with another hot kiss, your hands weaseling between your bodies and working quickly to take off his white button-up. Your fingers fumble with the buttons until his shirt is open, exposing the scarred muscles beneath. His hands leave you for just long enough to push the fabric off his shoulders. When his shirt is finally off, both his hands move to the back of your neck, pulling you in for another heated kiss, making you both groan into each other's mouths.

Your hands trail along his chest and back, tracing over the myriad of rough, raised flesh. Your touch is gentle, as though you're trying to heal him. He wishes you could. He wishes your touch could take away his 150 years of anguish, only made worse in your absence, and heal this body he's so carelessly destroyed. Yet, he knows he deserves every bit of it for what he's done. If nothing else, at least your touch is a momentary reprieve from it all, a moment for him to just be.

His hips twitch when he feels your hands trail down his chest, over his abdomen, to the hem of his pants, fingers working to undo his belt and buttons, working them off his body.

"M-Mayfly..." Vash mutters, his breath hot against your face. He works the rest of your clothes, practiced hands swiftly unclasping your bra before moving to peel off your pants, tossing the garments somewhere in the room, leaving you both in just your underwear.

Vash gently pushes your shoulders, moving you slowly like you're made of glass and laying you flat against the bed. He sits back on his knees to get a good look at you, propping himself between your thighs, his half-lidded eyes practically glowing as he drinks you in.

You're suddenly filled with this overwhelming shyness as you're laid almost completely bare in front of him. It's been so long since you've been looked at like this, and you can feel the heated rising to your face. Your body has naturally changed since he's last seen you, and the thought that he'll be disappointed weasels its way into your head, flooding you with insecurity. Without thinking about it, your hands move up to cover yourself, draping your arms over your chest and stomach.

Vash's gaze break from your body before darting up, his eyes softening when he sees your blushing and flustered face.

"Oh, sweetheart..." he coos, bringing himself down to pepper your face with soft kisses, stubble grazing your face. "Come on now. Don't hide from me. Please? I want to look at you. I love looking at you." His large hands gently wrap around your wrists, trying to coax you to uncover yourself. "Please. Let me see you. I missed looking at you so much."

Oh, how silly you are to think he'd look at you with anything but pure adoration and worship. He's only ever shown you love and acceptance, just as you have shown him. Vash can't even fathom the idea that you'd see yourself as anything other than breathtakingly perfect. Your body is his place of worship, every sound you make a prayer.

So, with a quiet whine, you let him pull your arms from your body, his hands gently pinning your wrists next to your head flat against the mattress.

"There you are..." Vash whispers adoringly, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose before leaning back again to look down at you.

He takes in the sight of you beneath him for the first time in two years, his hands letting go of your wrists and tracing up and down your curves slowly, savoring the feeling of your warm and soft flesh. The world hasn't been kind to you in his absence, your body baring new scars he knows weren't there before, and he hopes to God you didn't get all those looking for him, sacrificing yourself for his unworthy soul.

"So beautiful, mayfly." Vash purrs. His hands trail up your middle, up your sternum, before parting to grope your breasts, thumbs rolling over the perked buds. The act sends a wave of heat straight down between your legs, your hips involuntarily writhing against the bed. In turn, your reaction makes Vash suck in a breath, his hips gently grinding against the plush of your thigh, letting you feel his hardened cock.

You both need this. Badly.

"Mmph- you like that, huh, baby? That feel good?" Vash whispers, voice hoarse with desire as he circles his thumbs over your nipples again, this time rolling his hips right against your clothed sex.

You howl at the pleasure, hips bucking to meet his own. You bite your lower lip to muffle your cries, nodding your head up at your lover. "M-Mhmm!"

With a lewd grunt, Vash brings his head down, pressing his lips to your inviting body. He sucks on your neck, nibbling and licking slowly and sensually, finding the spots he remembers would make your breath hitch, your back arch, and your grip tighten around him. He lets out a deep groan against your neck when you react the way you used to, your voice pitching up to a needy, wanton moan when he sucks on your neck just right. You tangle your fingers in his hair as shivers dance up your spine, rolling your hips up against his.

He leaves a trail of kisses along your form, giving special attention to any scars he comes across along the way, just as you had done for him countless times before. His lips reach your chest, kissing along your sternum before moving his mouth to one of your breasts, his skillful lips enveloping your perked nipple, tongue circling the peak. His hand moves up to massage your other breast, kneading the soft flesh in his palm.

And you can only do what your body tells you to, your voice quivering into what only comes so naturally to you when he's worshipping your body like this.

"Vash." His name leaves your lips as a broken moan, but they hit him like a typhoon, shattering him to pieces.

Vash's body tenses, all his actions pausing as his lips part from your nipple with a quiet smack, his hot, ragged breaths against the wet skin of your breast. He tilts his head up, bringing his face closer to yours, letting your noses brush and his forehead press intimately against yours. His beautiful baby blues drink you in, eyes upturned into a longing, pleading stare. His eyes captivate you, trapping you under his gaze. From this close, you feel like you could drown in them.

"Please... Say it again." His voice is raw, fragile, and begging.

You have to blink yourself out of your trance, completely ensnared by him. Even though he's the one begging you right now, with that look on his face, you'd do anything he asked. So, without hesitation, you say it again.

"Vash."

And he whimpers.

A name he hasn't heard in two years, lost to his new life. A name that, despite the heavy weight it carries now, was gifted to him by someone very important. A name that has always rolled of your tongue with a softness he never felt he deserved, that he used to hear you cry out over and over when your voice was pulled taut with pleasure. His name.

He didn't realize how much he missed hearing it, and especially how it sounds leaving your lovely lips.

"Again. Please."

"Vash."

"One more time. I beg you."

"Vash."

Vash groans again, his eyes fluttering before pressing his lips to yours again, catching your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away.

"Mmph... Fuck, mayfly. The things you do to me."

His lips capture yours in a hot, wet kiss, tongues tangling, his hips undulating against yours and seeking out that little bit of friction between your bodies. He can feel the heat coming off your core against his hard cock, and his mouth waters as he thinks about how wet you must be right now.

"Need to taste you, mayfly."

Vash pulls back before he stands up between your legs and pulls you by your hips to the edge of the bed, grinding himself against your thigh again. His fingers hook to the elastic of your panties, his eyes not missing the wet spot forming on them already before meeting your gaze again. "Let me take these off you, baby."

And fuck, you are absolutely reeling right now, barely able to form a thought as he continues to handle your body with so much care and deadly precision, like he know it better than you. And really, he does. Despite the time you two have spent apart, his confidence in his knowledge of your body and his desire to please you is naturally weaving its way back into his mind like it's pure instinct. You can't tear your eyes from him as he stares down at you with the darkened, hungry eyes of a man that looks like he's just found his first sip of water in days on No Man's Land.

He tilts his head as you stare at him silently, taking in your half-lidded, hazy eyes. His fingers unhook from your panties, palms resting against your thighs.

"Mayfly? Do you want me to? I won't do it unless you tell me to."

You whimper needily, shifting your hips back and forth, unintentionally teasing him as your body begs for more of him.

"Please. Please, Vash. I need you to touch me." You beg, your voice shaking. You need him right now, both body and mind begging him to do something, anything to ease the ache between your thighs.

With a smirk that flashes his sharp canines and sends another shivering wave of heat to your core, Vash swiftly pulls your panties down your legs, letting them drop to the floor.

With you completely exposed to him now, Vash hooks his hands under your thighs, pressing your legs up and opening you up to himself, spreading you out on the mattress before him and watching as your slick drips from your sex as he practically folds you in half.

"Breathtaking." He purrs, staring down at your sweet flesh. "And so wet already."

"It's... It's because of you." You say back, your voice a pathetic, high-pitched whimper, feeling yourself pulse with anticipation.

Vash chuckles breathily, his eyes never leaving your sopping cunt as he lowers himself to his knees, propping himself between your thighs.

"I know it is."

With a soft sigh, Vash presses his tongue against your cunt, taking his time as his licks his way from your dripping entrance all the way up to your clit, gathering your sweet juices on the flat of his tongue with an audible eagerness. His mouth presses a fiery kiss to your clit, his lips wrapping around your little sensitive bud as his tongue flicks it with a skillful precision that is downright deadly, like it's all muscle memory coming back to him in this moment, as though his place in this world is right here between your thighs.

For Vash, you truly are an oasis on this desolate planet. In a life that's been so lonely and so filled with tragedy, you have been a solace that he never felt he deserved, yet he selfishly let himself indulge in. After being by his lonesome for so long, how could he ever turn away from your open arms? You unconditionally loved and accepted his broken mind and tattered body, and he was never able to deny your affections, no matter how much he told himself he didn't deserve them.

You are the only piece of heaven he's ever had.

"Mmmh... Taste so good, angel." He coos against your sex, licking his lips of your slick before tonguing another stripe up your cunt. "It's been too long. I'm absolutely parched for you, baby."

"Oh fuck, Vash!" You gasp out, your hands moving to tangle through his two-toned hair, holding it back and away from his face. You can feel his stubble grazing your plush folds as he eats you.

"Say it again, mayfly." He mutters against your cunt, the vibrations from his voice sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you.

Your mind is a pleasure-filled haze. You're barely able to think as your lover positively devours you, gorging himself on your dripping sex like it's more for his own pleasure than it is for yours.

"Ahh... w-wha-?" You manage to mumble, barely understandable.

His head pops up from between your thighs, hungry baby blues staring back up at you.

"My name. Say my name again for me, angel. Please."

"V-Vash..."

He growls as he dives back down to your cunt, his tongue teasing your entrance as his nose presses against your clit.

"Say it softer. Please."

"Vash..."

"Say it louder."

"Vash!"

His hips rut against the mattress as he pleasures you, pathetically rubbing his still-clothed cock against the old linen in tandem with his mouth. He can feel his boxer-briefs soaking up the pre-cum from his engorged tip. His body is aching for you, but he'll be damned if he doesn't make you come on his tongue at least once before he fucks you. He needs to taste you as you come.

His right hand slowly trails up the soft meat of your thigh, fingers dancing along your hot skin until they reach your pulsing flesh, swirling his fingers over your wet heat. Then, he gently presses his middle finger inside you, the long digit curling and pressing against your warm walls, gently stretching you as he takes you apart from the inside out.

You have to throw your hand over your mouth to keep yourself from crying out in white hot pleasure, hips undulating against his mouth and hand, seeking out more of the pleasure he's giving you.

"This okay, mayfly? Feeling good?" Vash whispers before circling his tongue over your clit again.

You don't trust yourself to speak right now, instead nodding your head frantically as you moan and wail silently against your hand.

Vash groans hoarsly when he sees just how well he's taking you apart, eyes fluttering closed as he focuses entirely on your pleasure. When he feels your body relax around his finger, he slips in a second digit, his dexterous middle and ring fingers meticulously and lovingly abusing that sweet spot inside you until he has you seeing stars behind your eyelids.

Your hand gently tugs at his hair, biting into your palm and clenching your eyes tight, your thighs trembling against his head. You pull your hand away from your lips just long enough to call out to him, your voice breaking, your body ready burst, "Vash! M' gonna c-come..."

He growls against you when he hears his name leave your sweet lips in a such desperate tone, tongue lapping away at you more eagerly, your juices dripping from his hand.

"Yes, baby. Come. Come all over my tongue. Wanna taste you..." he grunts, panting as he fucks you with his tongue and fingers and grinds himself against the mattress. Fuck, he's gonna come all over himself if he doesn't reel it back.

His mouth devours you, digits pumping faster into your fluttering cunt as he chases your high.

When Vash feels your body tighten and convulse against his fingers, your sweet whimpers filling his ears, he moans louder than you, as if your pleasure is his pleasure, and it takes every bit of willpower in him to not come along with you.

Vash has always denied himself the pleasures in life, deeming himself unworthy for the sins he believes he's committed. But when it comes to you, to your pleasure, he's always eager to let himself indulge, his tongue lapping away at your sex like your come is a reward for his efforts until his mouth is dripping with you.

When he feels your body relax, your muscles unflexing, he licks one last strip over your cunt before pulling his mouth and fingers away. He licks your sweet cream from his digits, his other hand removing the boxers that have grown unbearably tight from his lower half. Slowly, almost like he's reluctant to leave his place from between your thighs, he raises himself up and towers over you again.

"You're so perfect, angel." He whispers, voice hoarse with desire, and you can see his need from the way his cock twitches as he stares down at you, his big hands holding you by the softness of your thighs. He brings his pelvis forward, gliding the hard length of himself along your dripping pussy, coating himself with a mix of your come and his own saliva.

"Vaaash~" You call to him weakly, your head still fogged from your intense orgasm, but your body craving him. Your hips rise to meet his own, and he grinds against you more desperately.

"You want this, angel? Wanna feel me inside you?" His tone is breathy and light, almost teasing, but you know more than well enough that what he's seeking right now above all else is your consent. How you got so lucky as to find yourself such a caring and thoughtful man (plant) is beyond you.

"Want it more than anything, angel." You purr back, using the loving nickname he's given you back at him as your hands reach for his shoulders. Because let's be honest, if anyone is deserving of the nickname, it's him.

A soft smile crosses his face when he sees you reach for him and, like a moth to a flame, he leans down towards your touch. One of your hands clasp over his shoulder, gripping him and pulling him closer to you. The other traces your thumb over his cheekbone, your finger dancing over that adorable birthmark under his left eye.

"Don’t go stealing my words now, mayfly." He teases back before his lips cover yours. When he pulls away, you feel him pant against your face, his body shaking and his cock gliding over you folds. Despite how much he's been holding back, putting your pleasure far before his own, you can feel now just how badly he wants this. He's at his limit.

Still, a pang of concern crosses over his handsome features, always thinking of you despite the agony he's in right now.

"If... If it hurts, I want you to tell me. Tell me and I'll sto-" You shush him before he can keep going, your thumb quickly moving from his cheekbone to his lips.

"You won't hurt me, Vash." You whisper tenderly, trying to ease the worries undoubtedly forming in that pretty head of his.

Hìs face softens again, his expression changing from one of concern to one that can be described as nothing short of reverent. His eyes might as well be hearts from the amount of love you see in them. With a shaky sigh, he nods his head once, and you move your hand from his face to his other shoulder, holding him tightly against you.

"Alright." He places doting little kisses to your temple and cheek, his hands on your thighs gently parting your legs further. "Let me take care of you, mayfly."

One of his arms weaves its way between your bodies, grasping his cock and aligning himself with your inviting entrance, placing a gentle pressure against your core with the tip of his cock. Vash's gaze never breaks from yours as he slowly sinks himself into your tight heat, the head of his cock splitting you open as he sheaths himself inside you, his mouth falling agape with a mewling whimper as he feels every inch of your sweet warmth.

Your breath hitches as he presses himself inside you slowly, your body taking him inch by sweet inch until he gently bottoms out, your nails digging slightly into his broad shoulders. You can feel him stretching you out on his thick cock, a mixture of the sweet sting and pleasure filling your entire body. You take in deep breaths to calm and relax yourself, your eyes fluttering up at your lover.

You're everything he's ever wanted, everything he's ever needed, everything his soul craves and begs for. He caresses your thigh and whispers between gasping breaths, a sweet smile on his face as your catch your breath, "You're okay, mayfly. Relax. Take your time. Tell me how you feel. I'm here with you, all the way." He coos, peppering your cheeks and neck with soft kisses as he whispers gentle words of praise and encouragement. His expression is one of pure love and adoration, seeing your body relax as you adjusts to his, your walls moulding to his cock, your breath slowly coming back to you.

"A-Ah... I need you to move, Vash. I think I'll explode if you don't move right now." You whine, hips bucking and writhing against his own, begging him to fuck you already.

His adoring smile never falters, chuckling breathily as you beg for him.

Fuck, he's missed feeling needed.

"Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we?" He teases with a shit-eating grin that splits his perfect face. He places a tender kiss between your brows before gazing back down at you.

"Hold on tight now," he purrs against the shell of your ear, tightening his grip on your thigh, his prosthetic palm pressing against the mattress by your head. He's trying so hard to keep himself together, but you can feel his arm shaking from the sheer euphoria as he supports his weight.

Gently, he pistons his hips against yours, his cock gliding along your inner walls at a sweet and tender pace and giving you the chance to adjust to the feeling of him stretching you out. As fogged as his mind is right now in a haze of lust and need, he is still acutely aware of you, and it would break him more than anything if he hurt you.

Vash stares down at where you two connect so intimately, watching how your body engulfs his cock over and over and coats his shaft with your arousal.

"You feel so good, mayfly. Taking me so well, like your body remembers me," Vash praises you sweetly, his face falling to the crook of your neck.

"V-Vash..." you mewl, thighs gripping his waist tighter, cushioning his hips as he pumps you full of himself. "Feels so good. M-More, please. I need you more."

"Of course. I'll give you more," he whispers, his voice dripping with tender affection as his hands move to your thighs, lifting them up and hooking your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half again. You moan wantonly at how deeply he can reach in this position, the head of his cock kissing your cervix.

Vash increases the pace, his thrusts gradually growing more deliberate and quick, pumping into you so deliciously that he wrings out every sweet sound you can make from your throat. He rocks his hips, his muscles tightening and relaxing as he pushes himself all the way in and pulls back out again, letting himself feel every inch of your velvety walls. Every pump of his hips has him pulling himself out to the hilt, leaving just his hot tip inside, giving you no time to breathe before he pushes himself back inside again, fucking you deeper and harder than before. Every time he pulls out, he sees your lips part slightly as you wait for him to ram back inside. And he does, over and over, making both of you moan louder as the room fills with the sounds of skin slapping.

"I love you, I love you! P-Please, please don't leave me behind again. Stay. I need you!" You cry out in rapture, tightening your grip around him and pulling him so his patchwork chest is against yours, your breasts squeezing and bouncing against his pecs.

"I'm here, mayfly. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I can't- I'd die without you. I love you too much." He grunts against the side of your face, the sound of his labored breaths filling your ears.

He thrusts into you faster and harder now, the withered bed creaking and groaning beneath you both along with the sounds of your pleasured cries.

"Mmm~ Vash... Feels too good. Gonna come. Gonna make me come."

Your words break the last bit of restraint in his lovedrunk mind, grunting loudly against your ear.

"Fuck, say it again. Say it- Say it like you missed me. Like you thought of me every day. The way I thought about you."

"Vash!"

You can feel your body quivering and pulsing around him, and it only makes Vash moan louder, your pussy practically sucking him back in every time he pulls away. He moves a hand from your thigh to thumb at your swollen clit, desperate to feel you come undone around him.

"That's it. That's it! Mmm fuck~ I can feel it. Say it as you come all over me, baby. Please. Please."

Your orgasm hits you like a sandsteamer, your back arching harshly off the bed before you even have the chance to cover your mouth, crying out his name with a melodic and broken moan.

"Va- Vash!"

He's quivering, his grunts and breaths shaky as he feels your pussy clench around his aching cock like your body is trying to milk him for all he's worth.

"Ahh- S' too good... M' gonna c-come, mayfly. Gonna come with you."

Vash bites his bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds of pure agonizing rapture, only for your name to leave his lips like a beautiful song to the heavens as he spills himself deep inside your heat. His hips stutter as he fills you with his hot come until you feel like you're bursting, hips slowing and gently rocking into you as you both ride out your highs until they gradually come to a stop. He feels his muscles go limp, pressing his weight down on you more than he means to as he collapses against your smaller frame. He covers your temple and cheeks with weak, tired kisses, whispering sweet words of affection until you've both gathered your minds a bit more.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." He chants over and over again with every breath like a prayer, eyes closed, relishing the feeling of euphoria filling his body.

He stays inside you well after you've both come down for your climaxes, cockwarming you on his thick shaft like he can't bare the thought of ever being separated from you again. But when he feels his cock softening, he carefully pulls out of you with an almost pained groan, disappointed at the loss of your warmth but his body completely satisfied and drained regardless. When he sits back on his knees and sees his seed spilling from your dripping hole, he groans, cursing under his breath. The sight is enough to get him hard all over again.

_________________________

After a night full of round after round of hot and passionate lovemaking, your exhausted bodies lay beside each other. The sheets are wet and tangled, your bodies slick with a mix of your arousals, but you're both far too content and tired to care about the mess right now, enveloped in each other's embrace.

"Mmh... bed's comfy. I see why you like it here," You coo against his head, his hair tickling your nose.

"Having a bed to sleep in has definitely been nice. Beats sleeping out in the desert," He mumbles and pulls you in closer to himself, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, his stubble scratching at your skin.

"But this bed might as well be a bed of sand if I can't sleep in it with you, mayfly."

"Always such a smooth talker," you chuckle at him. Then, your smile turns to a look of reluctance as you gently raise your head. "But I should probably go, huh? Don't wanna explain to Granny and Lina what I was doing here in the morning."

"Well, you were doing me." Vash snickers back at you, eyebrows wiggling teasingly.

"You're hilarious," you scoff with a deadpan stare, but you can't help the little amused smirk forming on your lips, "I'm glad to see your sense of humor hasn't gone anywhere."

He chuckles against the hollow of your throat, his lips ghosting over your skin.

"I know, I know. It's just one of my many charms."

"You won't need to say anything to them. I'll do all the explaining for you." His grip tightens around your waist, any thoughts of leaving the bed vanishing from your mind. How could you leave after everything that's happened? After you've both finally found your ways back to each other?

"Besides, they might already know you're here. We weren't exactly... uh, quiet." He chuckles nervously, and you can feel his face heating up as he thinks about just how much noise the two of you were making. You feel your own face heat up too. Yeah, the morning's gonna be a bit awkward.

Vash grips you tighter, his warm body flush against yours, clinging to you.

"Stay, mayfly. I need you."

Your body settles back into the bed, cuddling yourself up against the man you love most, and the world feels a little brighter.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

#vash the stampede x you #vash x you #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash smut #vash the stampede smut #eriks x reader #eriks x you #eriks!vash #eriks! vash #trigun smut

[strongheartneteyam]

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

Pairing: Lo'ak Sully x female!human!reader

CW: infidelity, Lo'ak yearning for reader, sexual content, clingy Lo'ak, TRIGGER WARNING for sensitive themes, Lo'ak's cock against reader's thigh, a lot of angst, jealous Lo'ak, heartbroken reader, use of "princess" and "babygirl", mentions of sexual fluids, reader feels like she's not pretty enough after being cheated on, confessions of love, neck kissing and licking, dirty talk, sexual language

Synopsis: Lo'ak fell for you at first sight but you only had eyes for Neteyam, so, when he started having feelings for you too, you became Neteyam's mate. Now things are different, Neteyam is cheating on you but you're pretending you don't have a clue about his rendezvous with the na'vi girl he's seeing behind your back. You are close friends with Lo'ak and he's the only person you told about Neteyam's infidelity and now, Lo'ak just won't let this opportunity go without trying to finally claim you to himself.

So... I think this feels a bit incomplete but I had this idea hunting my mind like crazy until I surrendered and wrote it down lol Tell me what u guys think in the comments 🥲 I love y'all a lot <3

Lo'ak is aged up.

Slighty proofread.

𖤓

My husband's gone, don't need to worry

Take you upstairs to the swan bed

Let you fuck me hard as you can

The next time he kisses me, want him to taste red ruby lips

And the love we made and the lemonade

So come on over and give it to me

Lemonade (Nicole Dollanganger)

𖤓

"Eywa, baby, I've always wanted you... since the first time I saw you, I wanted you, pretty human... But he took from me any chance I had of trying to make you mine. He was faster than I was." Lo'ak talked about Neteyam as he ran his hands through your body and kissed your neck, his big body pressed against yours, clinging to you, so needy, his weight and body heat comforting you, giving you exactly what you needed right now. You were feeling broken, unlovable and not so sexy as you used to feel before. That's what getting cheated on by the man you loved did to you and your self steem.

Lo'ak's melancholic and full of pain cooing filled the air as you felt your heart hurt, feeling that you were doing something so wrong but you still couldn't stop yourself from letting Lo'ak's love cover you finally. You always knew he wanted you, it had always been obvious. He was not very good at hiding his feelings. His whole family - Neteyam included - knew he was in love with you.

But he always respected his older brother and you were Neteyam's mate, he had made you his before Lo'ak could even try to. He understood he couldn't anyway. Lo'ak saw how your eyes shone the first time you saw Neteyam, your shyness not letting you look at him too much so he wouldn't notice your interest while you still didn't know if he was interested in you too. That broke Lo'ak's heart. He already felt like he lived in his brother's shadow in almost everything in his life and now Neteyam was taking the girl he loved from him too. Great.

But when Neteyam cheated on you and left you feeling alone and broken-hearted, Lo'ak knew that was his chance and he would not let it go.

Lo'ak just couldn't believe it when he leaned in sheepishly to kiss you, his hands cold and his heart beating painfully fast, and you kissed him back eagerly instead of pushing him away.

Now you were under him.

"Now I can finally touch you, baby... Be with you, fuck you... I can't believe it, princess... I want you so much... " You could feel his cock against your thigh, so deliciously big, thick and hard as a rock too. "You never belonged with him. You always belonged with me, baby. And I'm gonna make you mine now if you let me, babygirl... make you mine forever. I need you so much. I love you so much. I can be better than him. I can fuck you better than he used to."

He was making you so wet. You were feeling needed again. And you wanted him too. He was so hot, his body so toned and beautiful. He wasn't as tall as Neteyam but you didn't mind because, as you were human, he still towered over you like crazy. You had always felt attracted to him and now there was nothing pulling you away from him. Neteyam had broken any vows of love and fidelity you had ever made to each other. You wanted Lo'ak and you were gonna let him have you all the way. He was making you feel alive again and you knew he loved you.

"Five fingers, not four. You're perfect for me. And I'm perfect for you." Lo'ak moaned these words for you as he intertwined his big, slender fingers with your tiny in comparison ones "My perfect human mate. You don't think bad of me for not being fully na'vi like they do." He licked your neck and slightly bit the skin there, his fangs making you feel a rush of an indescribably good feeling coming through your whole being.

•

Taglist:

@yeosxxx

#lo'ak smut #lo'ak sully #lo'ak sully smut #loak smut #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x fem!reader #lo'ak x human reader #lo'ak x you #lo'ak avatar #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak sully x reader #loak sully #loak x reader #loak x y/n #loak x you #lo'ak fanfiction #lo'ak suli #na'vi x human reader #na'vi smut #na'vi x reader smut #na'vi x y/n #✎ victória writes ▢✧࿐

[tlonista]

A whole mess of Astarion hurt/comfort fanfic recs

OK fine I've read so much Astarion hurt/comfort-adjacent fic that I should really put together an incomplete rec list. Be warned that with Astarion's canon backstory there's a lot of abuse and assault references of varying explicitness, so check the AO3 tags. I'm also limiting myself to one fic per author because otherwise I'd end up with several pages of Asidian and FlowerCitti. In case you're wondering, my personal contribution to the field is Seducere.

Ongoing Fics:

innocence died screaming by FlowerCitti

Comprehensive pre- and in-canon Astarion character study. Contains possibly the most heartwrenching post-Astarion-locked-tomb-era turn I've ever read. Very good.

Another Path by Asidian

A sweet Wyllstarion monster hunter x monster no-tadpole AU in which Astarion gets captured/rescued by Wyll straight out of a year in a coffin and navigates basic human kindness for the first time in a couple centuries.

Seen by ayvaines

Modern Bloodweave AU where Cazador is Astarion's cruel, controlling boyfriend and Gale is the kind D&D GM who's hosting them both in a game. As makes sense for a modern AU, it's a more-understated-than-canon take on Astarion coming to terms with the fact that he's in an abusive relationship, working out his feelings about Cazador through tabletop roleplaying, including some clever scenes dealing with the bleed of intense RPG sessions.

Heartbeats by LadyRagnelle

Canon-divergent Durgestarion fic where Astarion was recaptured by his siblings, memory-wiped, and then rescued by a team of companions he no longer remembers. A lot of well-executed (and sometimes surprisingly funny) angst around Astarion, charlatan that he is, trying to pretend he hasn't forgotten absolutely everything including how to be a non-level-1 rogue and have friends.

The stars began to burn by peregrinefeathers

Gale is trapped in fantasy nullspace and gets Astarion free of Cazador's clutches, after which they navigate an odd-couple relationship while trying to kill Cazador and pull Gale back into the physical world. Another classic "Astarion learns what human decency is" no-tadpole AU.

Memoir by IzzyIzGay

An Interview with the Vampire-style fic in which Astarion tells Gale about his time under Cazador, playing with that series' trademark unreliable narration and an unusually literal version of Cazador's creepy family dynamic.

Starved by neo7v

A modern non-magical Bloodweave AU featuring Astarion and the lonely degradation of a precarious service industry job! Only a few chapters so far, but seriously, it takes the "vampiric starvation" theme in a direction that's very mundane and miserable and compelling and it's one of my favorite recently started fics.

Unexpected Guests by Erandir

Another "get loved and cared for, sucker" no-tadpole AU featuring a non-Tav druid OC taking care of a lost Astarion who's escaped Baldur's Gate. Astarion and druids, the perfect foil.

Through The Night Dark And Drear by JJJSchmidt

Astarion is accidentally bargained off to an archfey by Cazador and taken to the palace of infuriatingly confusing fair folk magic! There's still a lot of story left to be uncovered, but I love the worldbuilding and fairy-tale premise.

snare by parsnipit

A Halstarion fic where Astarion never got tadpoled and the gang ends up rescuing him from Cazador, post-game, with his compulsions very much intact. Which leads naturally to hissing wet cat Astarion reluctantly learning to trust Halsin while they plot to take down Cazador.

One-Shots:

Quick Step by starkraving

starkraving's another person who could have made up a big chunk of this list, and this character study plays really well on the classic "how the hell does Astarion know how to be a rogue anyway" fandom conversation. My favorite entry in a good and growing series of Astarion-centered fics.

Gifts by Feena_c

Astarion gets caught by Cazador before the confrontation at the palace. Impeccable "Cazador doesn't realize Astarion didn't just come back to Baldur's Gate, he came back loved" vibe, as Cazador tries to break Astarion by taking away the gifts the tadpole gang gave him along the way.

What is Affection but the Absence of Cruelty by Aztec24

One of my favorite tropes is "Astarion tortures himself by obsessively imagining how awful these perfectly nice people will be to him," and this very much delivers. Featuring a rare two-Tavs-plus-Astarion throuple!

The Mimic by ForsakenFlyingCircus

This is really hurt-no-comfort, but I'm including it because it's a good super sad take on dehumanization with an awful Tav confirming all the worst things Astarion thinks about himself and the world, touching on the whole problem of sentient monsters in D&D.

Peel the scars from off my back by WitchyBee

A Spawn Family fic in the aftermath of Astarion getting Cazador's contract on his back - lots of antagonistic but grudgingly caring sibling interaction and Astarion being satisfyingly ambivalent about it all.

Complete Multi-Chapter Fic:

Just A Taste by NightmareGiraffe

The tadpole gang gets imprisoned at Moonrise Towers and Astarion accepts an offer from Araj Oblodra in exchange for their freedom. A very dark yet totally in-character elaboration on the canon blood merchant encounter, plus a cool dragonborn Tav.

The Accountant’s Guide to Taking Down an Evil Vampire Lord (and maybe bagging Astarion while you are at it) by Cinnamontails

A charming f!OC-who-isn't-Tav/Astarion longfic that combines hurt/comfort with het romance novel conventions, which I feel like is rarely pulled off.

And I know there's a ton I missed here -- god this fandom is big.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fic recs #hurt/comfort

[mewguca]

I was thinking about how people should talk more about the parallels between hunter and moon

This is a rather self-indulgent piece...I find it very comforting to be able to express my emotions through a media I love like this...that's probably my favorite thing about art. Being able to express something...being able to connect emotionally with the viewer...is really nice

textless versions and a long rambling under the cut

Hunter is often viewed as a very strong and agile slugcat...they are the "hard mode" after all. Hunter probably has a lot of physical prowess. But, with the rot...they become weaker. At its worst, they struggle to do basic movements...until they eventually die. Of course, in my version of events...Hunter's rot is cured, but it still leaves lasting side-effects. Their scars go beyond simple battle wounds...there's a sort of pervasive sickliness throughout their whole body. Treatment helps, of course...but

You know how that is, right...? You have to keep getting treatments. You have to work for your recovery. And you have to work to prevent your body from getting weaker again...Or y'know, that's how it is if you've ever had any reoccurring or chronic health issues. It's...a struggle I feel like doesn't get expressed very often...so I wanted to express it through my version of Hunter.

Even though Moon isn't anywhere near as organic, I feel like she can relate to similar struggles. She used to be like a god...a powerful supercomputer who could do just about anything! But...she couldn't bring herself to do the one thing that'd preserve her own wellbeing. She delays and delays on forcing Pebbles to stop with her administrative powers until it is far too late...

Maybe she thought she could handle it. That everything would be fine if she just waited for Pebbles to understand...or waited for him to stop. If she just kept sending messages, eventually he would listen.

But he didn't. Things didn't get better. And by the time she finally took action against it, it was too late...her forced communications did nothing but make her brother furious with her...because she "ruined everything." She could only accept her imminent collapse...

When she woke up again, she had only a few neurons left to run on. Her umbilical was broken, her overseers were out of her control, and even the roof over her head was incomplete.

She couldn't do most of the things she used to. She could hardly move. She could hardly even think. She could barely remember who or what she used to be...and she didn't have great ability to remember the present, either.

It must have been really painful...but she keeps doing what she can anyways. She reads the pearls you bring her. She tells you about the items you bring. She gives you information as best as she can. She is kind and hospitable. She encourages you. She could be so bitter and depressed...so resentful and cruel...but she isn't. I'm sure she has plenty of bitterness and resentment, plenty of hopelessness and great sadness, plenty of suffering...

But when she sees the little slugcat, she's still kind to it. She is grateful for what she has. She is happy to see you. And she keeps on living.

She's so strong...she is a huge inspiration for me.

So, I think if anyone could relate to Hunter's struggle...Moon is probably the closest. I think people should talk about their relationship more...after all, Hunter is her "little savior." I think they would be wonderfully close. They could support each other in their struggles to keep living, even if their bodies fight against them. I also think their friendship is just cute! Great potential for angst, for fluff, for comfort...idk. everything, really. It would be wonderful for them to reunite when they're both in better shape...as creatives, we can make a versions of events where that happens. It's really wonderful to me...for a work of art to inspire others to create art because of it.

This game means a lot to me...and it means a lot to me that it resonates so much with other people as well. So, thank you...

#rain world #egg art #eggmoon creations #looks to the moon #rw hunter #angst #comfort #rambled eggs #eggmoon's rain world

[whatthefoucault]

Ok no but hear me out, because what if, before Stede and the gang make it back to Ed and them on the ship to get the band back together, Ed finds out that in the intervening, like, couple of days, Stede “died” in the most absurdly dramatic way possible, and just sort of finds his way on sadness-autopilot to the Bonnet home, looking for, what, closure? Just to be where this man he loved so much came from and maybe, in some disjointed and incomplete way feel near him again, despite everything? And Mary’s there, clutching a sharp object behind her back and she’s like oh no a vaguely threatening crime man what are you doing here wait why are you crying and Ed’s like, I was... a friend of Stede’s, I think, and Mary’s stance softens, and she lets him in and makes a cup of tea.

And she explains as po-faced as one can “exactly” what happened, and they sit there awkwardly in the Bonnet front room, not having much to say to each other, and Ed takes in their surroundings, unchanged enough presumably from when Stede lived there to be both a visceral reminder of all of the wonderful things he was, and also a fierce indicator of why he chose to leave.

“Nice house,” he tells her, trying to remember the rules of small talk. “Did you... paint that?”

He points at a large canvas that now hangs over the sideboard of what looks to be a very detailed close-up of some flowers.

“I did, actually,” she says. “A couple of weeks ago. It’s - ”

“A lily,” Ed suggests.

“A vagina,” Mary says, at the same time.

and Ed nods, unsure how to follow on from that. Mary gives him an apologetic smile.

“So I guess you two were close friends?”

“I think so,” Ed tells her cautiously, not about to bare his entire soul and the deep, devastating love he holds for Stede to the man’s widow, for fuck’s sake.

“Well, he’s in a better place now,” Mary assures him. “He’s free.”

And with that, the tears are back, and despite himself Ed’s shaking and ugly-sobbing, and Mary begins to reach a hand out to give him a pat on the shoulder, but thinks better of it and just offers him a hankie instead.

And Ed’s emotions are catching up with his brain, but now his thoughts are too fast and too all at once to word them properly, but he’s trying anyway despite himself. “We were - I was going to - and then he, I thought, but - but then - ” he manages between sobs.

And Mary is given pause. Wait a minute, she thinks, as it slowly dawns on her. Why would it mean this much to this guy, unless

“Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Uhh, it’s Ed?”

And she lights up. He isn’t exactly who she would have expected, all goth and intimidating and stuff, but she also doesn’t know what she did expect. But on the other hand, if this is Stede’s Ed, then

“You’re Ed? Shit, what are you doing here? Stede’s going to be looking for you.”

Which makes no sense to Ed now, because “But Stede’s - you mean he’s a ghost?”

And she leans in with a conspiratorial smile. “Okay look, I obviously couldn’t tell just any old friend, but you’re Ed. It was, what did he call it? A fuckery?”

And Ed understands, he thinks, hopeful. “You mean... he’s...”

And Mary laughs. “No, he’s fine,” she tells him. “Staged the whole thing. It was brilliant! He’s gonna be out there looking for you right now.”

And Ed’s whole body melts with relief, pooling in the deep cushions of the velvet settee. There are too many emotions rattling through his body at once. edwardteach.exe has stopped working

“He's? Wait, how do you - no, doesn’t matter. No, yes it does. You've heard of me?”

And Mary’s like, “I know my ex-husband loves you very much.”

And Ed’s like

But wait, she’s cool with him just fucking off with another fellow, he thinks? And she explains that their marriage sucked and she’s fucking thriving and she’s genuinely happy he’s happy.

And after a few more biscuits, now that the mood has lightened considerably, she sends Ed on his merry way to go smooch her ex-husband probably. They’ve still got some shit to talk through together, and he’s going to hug that stupid brilliant man SO HARD and he’s still not sure what his emotions are doing, and he doesn’t know where he’s going, but he’s, like, so gay for Stede right now oh my god that absolute fucking human treasure ughhhhhhhhhh FEELINGS

And Doug comes in a few minutes later looking Terribly Concerned, as Mary’s brushing biscuit crumbs off the coffee table, and he’s like “Mary, are you ok? I saw a vaguely threatening man leave just now. He looked just like Blackbeard???”

And Mary’s like he

WHAT

#ofmd #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #mary bonnet #our flag means death #doug is there also #this is terrible but it wouldn't leave my head until i wrote it down #sorry

[cer-rata]

An incomplete but very angry diatribe about the missed potential of the Star Sapphires

So back in the day Geoff Johns and co decided to open up the Green Lantern mythos and add some more flavor and expand the concept of sci-fi tech powered by elemental emotion to more than just willpower. Which yes, is not an emotion, we ignore it and move on.

Anyway we got some really cool stuff! A rage tyrant fueled by experiencing incredible injustice on a personal and cosmic scale, whose vendetta twisted him into something terrible. An avatar of greed who was never allowed to have anything, not freedom, not family, not safety, who takes and takes and takes to fill a void that can never be satisfied. A priest who lost everything but presses on through his unshakable hope that the future can and will be better. It's a lot of fun stuff!

So in this great creative re-imagining, they had to do something clever and fun with the idea of an all female corps powered by love right? They took the opportunity to move past the purely romantic, sexual idea of love and the obsessed femme fatale archetype, because they had the chance to really explore different types of affection now that there were a bunch of different avatars with different stories to pull from right?

Right?

Nope! The only Sapphires we ever learn about are heartbroken over a cursed romance like Carol, grieving a dead fiance like Miri Riam, forcibly mind controlled to be one like Fatality, or just Miss Bloss who...kind of said she wanted to join up? No clue what her deal is, as far as I'm aware that's never really explained. And then we just never learn about anyone else, and still haven't. The hell is "The Lost Sapphire"? No idea, we'll likely never know.

It's frustrating because not only is this a glaring example of the depth of plotlines offered to women in comics compared to their male counterparts, but also a wild lack of imagination. Love is one of the most complicated emotions we experience. Fear, anger, hope, all pretty easy to quickly define. Love is multifaceted, cultural, incredibly contextual and a factor in so many different kinds of relationship. Just thinking logically it should be much easier to flesh out the motivations of a group pulling from such a nuanced source of power, versus something as clear-cut as rage. But no, the red lanterns got so many varied reasons for their rage, the male ones especially: Bleez being the woman was of course given the SA narrative, which I don't think is inappropriate on its own, that's an incredibly valid reason to be angry, but as the ONLY truly prominent female Red Lantern it's like...c'mon guys. But still, at least she and Atrocitus had different reasons for becoming what they are, and that variation was played for plot and drama.

But there's not a single Star Sapphire that personally champions something other than romantic love. And before you shoot me, it is explicitly mentioned that they DO protect other forms of love, so there's no reason for them to all be sexy and obsessed with kissing people. There are no Sapphires that are driven by:

The love of their children and families, even in a tragic sense, like Atrocitus and Saint Walker and Larfleez are...

Their love of their people, or their culture. It would have been interesting if Fatality was inducted BECAUSE of her pain at losing her world, but no, they just...replaced her anger with lovey vibes and called it a day.

Their love for nature. Not everyone is social, but social love isn't the only way to strongly experience the emotion.

Their love for themselves. Where is the fun narcissistic ass who loves their own self image to the point of getting powers? It would have been a fun twist and a cool way to get another villainous Sapphire if you wanted to.

Their platonic love of ANYTHING really. Are ace/aro people just...not capable of love then? It doesn't mean anything to be willing to drive cross country to help a friend move just because they needed it and you care? No? You need to be fucking for it to count?

It's like...fascinating if you really think about it. In this vast fantasy universe full of alien races with wildly different perceptions and life cycles, and where the other corps have plenty of non-human, truly alien looking members, that the women's only love corps is full of only hot hot scantily clad baddies. Most love that people experience in their lives isn't even romantic! You will have far more experiences with friends and family members and even loving strangers than you will have with romantic partners.

Like the reason is clearly sexism, duh, but we know sexism is bad, that's obvious, what I really want to make clear is how much this blatant, unexplored sexism just completely desecrated the potential of the worldbuilding here.

From another angle even: Let's say this this WAS the sex and romance all the time corps. Let's say that you wanted to keep it all women. I hate the idea that women are capable of love in a way that men aren't, that's such a bad take and just regressive and unhelpful, but let's just play ball for a moment. They're not even hot? Their designs are such ridiculously narrow versions of feminine attractiveness that they're not even successful at really being mass appeal sexy. I haven't even reached the point of complaining about the fatphobia and criminal lack of different body types yet, I'm still just saying that from the standpoint of fantasy sexy it's not even good at being stereotypical offensive fantasy sexy. It's just boring! They're all so visually boring! You can be scantily clad and still have an interesting and coherent character design! But that is not what they gave these women! They actually redesigned the classic Star Sapphire costume and made it MORE sexist and boring:

Yeah it was cheesy but it was also cute and fun? The design is playful classic sci-fi girl and this is when she was still a dangerous unhinged villain. Its fun to look at and feels tonally coherent next to Green Lantern.

And then they just...

No actually, I will not explain this one, you have eyes.

And yeah they fixed her costume finally,

But! She's still stuck as Hal Jordan's romantic punching bag, and has not gotten to have any new adventures on her own.

So.

What I'm saying is it's a flop all around. 2/10, and only because despite everything Fatality STILL managed to serve. I actually think that all of the corps have been poorly used since blackest night, even the greens actually, but they never even gave the Sapphires a chance. They last showed up in...a WW annual I think? During the whole dark gods event, they needed Diana to help them fight the evil god of love, and there was a guy in the corp finally, and they talked about sisterhood and then we haven't heard a peep from them since. I think Carol might be due to get her ring back in the GL ongoing but she's not really been treated well so far, so I'm not hopeful for anything fresh and well reasoned.

So my lovely ladies (and that one unnamed guy), until they let you get it together it may be time to

#dc comics #comics meta #hal jordan #green lantern #star sapphire #carol ferris #fatality #atrocitus #larfleeze #saint walker #sexism #shut up cerata #dc editorial answer for your crimes

[bountycancelled]

LOST CAUSE

bada lee x reader (part 3)

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

warnings: none I think, pls comment if there are any needed

content: angst on angst, confused gays, sad times for bada, a lil bit of ??? x reader, idek man just read it, unedited because I refuse to reread my own stories

bada couldn't concentrate.

that much was obvious to every student present in the class that she was currently attempting to teach, as well as her team members, two of which had to take over while she leaned against the wall, feigning supervision while thinking of, well, you.

she didn't know what to make of the last interaction you two had. or, rather, she knew exactly what to make of it, and she just didn't like the implications.

she was a bad friend.

although she was glad that you had confronted her about her tendencies, and she now had the opportunity to do better in the future, she couldn't help but wonder if you even wanted that.

but she couldn't lose you, she couldn't even bare the thought of it, that would be like a solar system without it's star, virtually useless and incomplete. she had to do better, before you... no, nope. you weren't going anywhere, not on her watch. she would redeem herself, whatever it took.

"bada!" she jumped at the sound of her own name, muffled by the thoughts racing through her mind, thoughts of you and only you.

"welcome back to earth." lusher said flatly, standing tall in front of where bada had chosen to sit on the floor in the corner of the studio, moping in her self inflicted sadness.

"you shouldn't be here, you know? you should be at home, talking to her." bada nodded solemnly, her gloomy expression thankfully covered by her bucket hat. "I know."

lusher nudged bada's knee with her foot repeatedly, earning an annoyed groan from bada who swatted her foot, but, she smiled for what was most likely the first time that day. "well, if you know that, then why are you here?"

"because she told me to go, I didn't wanna push her any further." bada said simply, her smile vanishing just as quickly as it arrived. how could she be happy at all, while knowing that she had been hurting you all this time?

lusher clicked her tongue, pulling bada up to her feet and placing her hands on her shoulders, speaking with a certain seriousness. "she didn't mean it. go, bada. I've known her long enough to know that she... sometimes has trouble telling you how she actually feels. classes end in 20 anyway."

she didn't need to be told twice. bada was off, fingers drumming nervously on the steering as the pit in her stomach grew and grew, and grew. god, she hoped that you were still there when she opened the door.

maybe you would be in one of her many oversized shirts, your perfect figure practically drowning as you cooked something up for yourself in the kitchen, mindlessly humming to a song as you stood in front of the stove, spatula in hand. and she could come up behind you, wrapping her arms around your middle, humming the same tune.

or maybe, you'd be furiously shouting at the TV, watching some horror movie that had stumbled upon, which would always do a better job of aggravating you than scaring you. and bada would sit next to you, pulling you into her lap as you took turns criticising the characters' stupid, plot driving decisions.

god, she wanted you, she needed you to still be there when she unlocked the door.

so that you could have a full conversation about everything, every issue, every minute problem, every feeling, all of it. you'd most likely tell her that you're not very fond of her right now, which would be completely understandable, and then she would apologise profusely, get on her knees and beg if that's what it took, and tell you how she felt, if you asked.

how did she even feel?

she loved you, of course. you had been her rock, a safe space for her to be her most authentic self. sometimes, she would all awake at night, filled with some indescribable emotion that she could only attempt to describe as pure love. just the thought that you were in her life was enough to almost make her chest explode with glee.

she was so sure that all those feelings were typical of people who had been close for years, but she wasn't as certain anymore. but that didn't matter right now, she would categorise and sort her feelings out after she fixed the rift that she had caused between the two of you.

you would be her first priority from now on, always.

☆

"you know, you need to stop doing that." minah's voice rang out, a knowing look on her face.

"she looked sad, and I knew why, so I gave her a little push." lusher shrugged, locking the class door behind her, falling into step with minah as her and the rest of the members clocked out for the day.

"that's not what I meant. it's great that you helped bada." minah corrected, hooking her arm with hers as they made their way to their homes.

lusher sighed in mock exasperation before questioning minah. "then what did you mean? I'm not in the mood for guessing games right now."

"I mean, that you can't keep sabotaging your own feelings for her sake." that only led to another sigh leaving lushers' mouth.

throughout the years of knowing you, lusher had developed some feelings for you, but it was nothing major. but another thing she had to live with as a result of knowing you this long, were your unwavering feelings for bada.

they were, at least in lushers' opinion, completely impenetrable. it's not like she didn't understand, bada certainly treated you in a vastly different, much more intimate and compassionate way than she did anyone else, so your feelings definitely weren't baseless.

she just didn't feel like messing with your heart even further by adding her silly schoolgirl crush into the mix of your love for bada and bada's inability to look inwards for fucking once.

if she was in bada's shoes, you would've never left the club upset, because she would've never said no to an opportunity to hang out with just you. but, you being upset at the club is what led to you spending the night at her house, so lusher was selfishly a little thankful that it happened, in a roundabout sort of way.

she had to fight the urge to be visibly giddy when she saw you in her shirt for the first time. god, it looked so much better on you, she's not even mad that you left with it.

"I just, don't wanna add any more to the craziness going on with her. and you know I have the worst timing imaginable, the second I decide to confess to her, bada's gonna barge into the room and profess her undying love and then they're gonna make out in front of me." lusher ranted slightly as they made they're way to her front door.

"that was oddly specific. have you thought about this before?" minah questioned while stifling a laugh, putting an arm around lushers' shoulders. "but if you're not going to confess which is fine, then you should consider maybe not playing cupid either, you're only hurting yourself. they'll get together on their own if it's meant to be."

lusher nodded, hugging minah goodbye before entering her apartment. she was right as always, lusher had a nasty habit of trying to push you and bada into each others arms. maybe it was guilt? she felt bad for even feeling the way she did about you, so she overcompensated by helping you get closer to your dream girl, bada.

she just didn't want to see you hurting, and if she had to choose between her feelings and yours, it wouldn't even be a question. which is why she convinced bada to go finish her conversation with you, because she knew that you weren't okay.

so imagine her surprise when she saw you, in her kitchen, in another one of her shirts.

her mouth fell when her eyes met yours. "what are you doing here?" she blurted out in a high pitched voice. no, no, no, this was not how it was supposed to go. you were supposed to be at bada's place, and you guys were supposed to work out all the kinks in your relationship, maybe even get into a relationship.

"I just wanted to hang out. sorry, I shouldn't have intruded." you said simply, looking through a cupboard for something to snack on.

she wanted to tell you that bada was currently at her apartment for you, a part of her even wanted to drive you there and push you even further away from her.

but, another part of her wanted to take in minahs' advice, and not do anything. if you wanted to hang out her, then so be it.

"there isn't much in there, I'll just order delivery."

a/n: love triangle alert!!!

#smau masterlist #smau #bada lee #bada lee x oc #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #masterlist #bada lee fanfiction #bada #bada lee x y/n #bada lee fluff #bada lee angst #bada lee fanfic

[tooearlyforthis]

Happy Birthday, Honey | Steve Harrington

It's Steve Harrington's Bday! Or at least according to Google it is, so here is a little bday fic about him. Also apparently, it was Joe Keery's Bday last week. So happy bday to him too.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Series Synopsis: Steve just wants to spend his birthday the same way he always does - no one knowing and all to himself. His girlfriend, on the other hand, has other ideas.

Warnings: fluff, established relationship

Click here to see my masterlist

April 29th was Steve Harrington’s least favorite day. Why? Because it's his birthday. 

It was a day that plagued him since he was old enough to stay home alone. His parents were never there, off on business trips that left him alone for months at a time. They never remembered his birthday when they were home anyways and that always seemed to hurt more. Like a slap in the face from the only people that cared about him.

Tommy and Carol were the only ones from his old life that knew the day he was born. And even then, they didn’t do anything special for him. It wasn’t like he asked them to, they just never cared enough about him to celebrate. Steve would always make sure to throw a party for himself on that day. Not specifically for him, but just so he wasn’t spending another day alone. 

He didn’t bother to tell Y/n or Dustin, or anyone in The Party for that matter. Partly because they never asked and partly because it never came up. But as the day was rounding the corner, he knew he couldn’t spend it alone. He asked for an extra shift at work and Y/n would be coming over later that night, two things that would help him survive another year.

He wouldn’t tell Y/n, that just felt unfair. A few months ago, when it was her birthday, he made sure to make it as special as he could. A nice restaurant, gifts from all their friends - he knew if he told her this last minute she would feel awful about it. And he never wanted to make her sad.

Well, there was always next year. 

The morning of he woke up to his alarm blaring like it was any other day. And he was determined to make it such. Grabbing a bagel on his way out, he headed to work. He was surprised when he was the first one to make it to work that morning. The Max, and Robin were always sticklers for time. But both of them were nowhere in sight.

Trying not to think too much of it, he unlocked the front door and headed inside. The place had become very familiar to him after so many hours of work. He could point to a section of the shop and tell you exactly what tapes were stored there, and how much it would cost to rent them.

And by just one glance around the room, he could tell that Keith closed the night before. That was a relief for him, knowing that he didn’t have to look out for half-ass jobs of putting back tapes or an incomplete inventory. He just placed his bag in the back employee room before heading out to the register. 

As he emerged from the employee common space, he was relieved to see that at least one of his co-workers had arrived. He sat down at the front desk as they came in.

“Hey, Harrington,” Max announced with a smile. 

After moving to the trailer park, the young redhead thought it was about time she started to chip into her household. Plus she needed the money for a new skateboard.

“Mayfield,” Steve responded as he booted up the computer.

Max leaned across the counter, trying to look at the still-loading screen. “Did that old guy return the porno yet?”

“Nope, it’s officially two weeks late.”

“Damn! He’s really been going at it hasn’t he.”

Steve tried to conceal his chuckle. “I guess so… hey go put your stuff in the back I think there are still some tapes we need to rewind.”

She gave a nod before heading away. This was good. Everything was normal and he wouldn’t be alone. Just make it through the day and-

“Steve!”

He looked up to see Robin coming through the front door, a smile on her face. That was odd, she was never usually this chipper in the mornings. She ran over to him, engulfing him in a bug hug from behind.

“How’s your morning been?” she asked, still smiling. 

He responded, “Uh, fine?” Cause how else do you respond to that? It was 9 o’clock in the morning. “What’s got you so jumpy?”

“Nothing! Can’t be excited to see my dear friend Steve?”

“Oh, you can, just not when you’re almost late to work.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling away from him. “Key word: almost.”

“Why were you late anyways? The doors are usually unlocked by the time I come in.”

Robin fell silent for a moment as she took out her book and placed it on the counter. Tuesdays weren’t usually busy so she would bring something to read to pass the time. 

“I uh…had something I needed to take care of.”

“Care to share with the class?”

He watched as she paused for a moment before simply saying, “No.”

“Okay then,” he responded, turning back to the computer. “Then go help, Max, with the rewinds.”

Robin groaned as she chucked her bag over her shoulder. “You know, you’ve been a little bit bossier since getting promoted to manager.”

“I’d say more disciplined.”

Rolling her eyes she gathered her bag, ready to help David in the back. Steve sighed, hunching back into his seat. Yeah, just like any other day.

🎬🎬🎬

The shift at Family Video came and went just like any day, however, Robin was being more distant and smiley. Robin liked to have a good laugh but this much was just too uncommon for her. He spotted her whispering with Max a couple of times throughout the shift. But every time he approached them on the subject they pretended like it never happened. 

As their shift came to a close, he decided he would give it one last try.

“Are you sure there’s nothing going on?” he asked her, stripping off his green work vest.

She shook her head. “Nothing! Just another completely normal day at work, right?”

“Sure.” 

Steve watched as the next shift came in, Max walking out from the back to join them in leaving. “Well, that was a very unproductive day,” she told them.

The three of them walked out of the store, readjusting their shirts. 

“Nothing you can do when you don’t have any customers,” Robin said back. “Max you’re giving me a ride right?”

“Wait Rob, I thought I was driving you home?” Steve said surprised.

“No uh, sorry forgot to tell you Max and I were gonna hang out.” She nudged her arm. “Right?”

“Yeah! Sorry, forgot to tell you,” Max responded quickly as she open the driver’s door of her car. 

“You’re letting Max drive you?” Steve asked with widen-eyes. It was almost like he was having flashbacks to the night she almost crashed his BMW. 

“Hey, I have my license now!” Max shouted at him but he just dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

Rolling her eyes, Robin said, “I’ll be fine. Would you rather have me driving her?”

“That’s a good point.”

“All right then.” Robin lowered herself into the passenger seat of Max’s car. She reached for the door handle. “See you tonight!”

“Tonight?”

“Tomorrow! I meant tomorrow. But uh… yeah see ya.” 

Before Steve could question her further, both she and Mac climbed shut their doors. He sighed, watching as they drove off, leaving him alone in the parking lot.

“Hey there, hot stuff.”

Steve turned to find the voice calling out to him. He smiled when he saw his girlfriend in her car behind him.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked, resting a hand on the top of her car. Y/n leaned out the window, crossing her arms. “I thought we were meeting up later.”

“Well, can you blame me? I miss my boyfriend. Come on, get in.”

“But I drove here.”

“We can grab your car later, come on!”

Not being able to resist, he walked around the other side and climbed in. He leaned over the center console, pulling her into a kiss before buckling his seat belt. “I’ll never get used to that.”

Blushing, Y/n put her car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot. “You really know how to make a girl swoon huh?”

He shrugged. “I have my ways. So, why do I have the honor of seeing my girlfriend so early today?” 

“I just figured instead of sitting in our separate houses for the next few hours before dinner we could see a movie. 8 Million Ways to Die came out a couple of days ago and I know how much you love those detective movies.”

“Hmm, you are right about that.” He swung an arm across the back of her seat. “Sure, the movie before dinner sounds great.”

🎬🎬🎬

“But it was noir how can it be funny?” Y/n asked, taking another bite of her food. Her plate was almost finished.

“It was a noir but it just had some funny moments in it like the warehouse confrontation? I mean it was just a little too quirky for my liking,” Steve responded, picking up his fork. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t like it!”

“Mmmhm, sure you did.”

“No, come on, babe I liked it,” he reassured her, reaching out a hand to touch hers. “Thank you for today, you don’t know how much it means to me.”

Y/n smiled but it faltered slightly as she pulled back her hand. “I-uh….”

Steve let his smile drop too, growing concerned by the second. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Everything is fine it’s just….I might have some idea of what today means to you.”

He felt his heart beat a little faster wondering what she could know. Oh no, did she know? 

“I- what do you mean?” he asked.

“Honey, I know it’s your birthday.”

Steve felt his eyes widen, unable to form words on his lips. “H-how long have you known?”

“A couple of months….you just never bring it up I figured it was a sore subject.”

“Not really I just never make a big deal out of it. No one ever- I mean it never-“ He stumbled to find the right words to describe how he felt.

“Steve, you deserve to have a day where people appreciate you. Like the birthday you gave me? It was perfect, having all my friends there to celebrate with me. You deserve that, honey.”

“This day, just going to the movies and dinner with you? That’s enough for me.”

Not satisfied with that answer, Y/n shook her head. “Nope, come on, I got a surprise for you. She stood up, extending an arm to him. “Come on.”

“But the bill-“

“-has already been paid for.”

“You paid already?” he asked, reaching up to take her hand.

“Yep. That’s what happens when you’re the birthday boy. Gotta let others take care of you.”

“I don’t think I like this very much.”

“Well get used to it 'cause you deserve it.”

🎬🎬🎬

Steve was confused as they drove silently in Y/n’s car. The only sound came from the rumbling engine and the music playing very softly through the radio. The streets they passed looked familiar, almost too familiar. Wait, they were in Loch Nora. 

“Are we driving to my house?” Steve asked, wondering what surprise could be waiting for him in his own home. 

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Y/n responded, keeping her eyes on the road, and a smile formed across her lips.

He reached forward, placing a hand on her thigh. “Come on, babe. Just tell me.”

Reaching down, she removed his hand. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere Harrington….at least not this time.”

Steve huffed as he leaned back in his seat, watching as the car turned down his street and into his driveway. 

“So the surprise is at my house,” Steve nudged, getting out of the car. 

Y/n walked to his side, taking his hand. “Oh my god, do you want an award or something?”

“No, but it’s nice validation.”

She smiled as they reached the front steps. He went to turn the handle but she stopped him. “Wait,” she began. 

Steve turned to look at her. “Yeah?”

“Just-“ Pausing, she took a moment to re-orient him to face her, her hands dropping from the side of his arms. “I’m not gonna press you why you didn’t tell me about your birthday okay? But it is a special day, at least to me, and you deserve to be celebrated.”

Steve felt like he could melt at her words; slump into her arms and spend the day thinking about how lucky he was to have her. Instead, he leaned in, giving her a quick peck on the lips. It was a chaste kiss, but still passionate nonetheless. 

As they pulled apart, Steve smiled. “What did I do to deserve you.”

“You didn’t have to do anything. I love you just the way you are.”

Stepping forward, she opened the front door. They stepped inside the dark foyer, Y/n moving quickly to turn on the lights.

As the lights shined through the room, Steve stepped back in shock. Everyone he cared about, the kids, Nancy and Jonathan, Robin, and even Hopper and Joyce stood in his living room. There was a big banner behind them, decorations, and balloons littered throughout the house. 

At the sight of him, they all shouted, “Happy Birthday!!!”

Dustin had a bunch of party blowers in his mouth, making them all go off at once while Lucas threw confetti into the air. He watched as Max let go of some balloons that all floated to his ceiling. Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan were all holding a cake that sprawled a Happy Birthday message across the top.

It was everything he didn’t know he needed for his birthday.

He stumbled back in shock at the scene before him. He beamed at all of his friends who came to celebrate. After so many years of not having a birthday, of being ignored by the people closest to him, it felt like he was being heard.

He felt a tug on his sleeve as Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Happy Birthday, honey,” she said softly.

Steve grinned looking down at her. “Seriously what did I do to deserve you.” 

He swooned for her as she giggled. He loved that giggle, it made his heart feel whole. Not being able to hold back, not caring that he was surrounded by all of his friends, he pulled her into a kiss.

Their lips connected into a familiar dance, filled with the warmth and comfort of everything before them. He could hear a whistling sound in the room, probably from Mike as Robin clapped and cheered for them. 

As they broke the kiss, Dustin stepped forward, holding more party blowers in his hands. He yelled with excitement, “Now let’s get this party started!”

#fanfic #fluff #friends to lovers #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #joe keery #djo #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #birthday

[cursed2soul]

Please don’t leave me || Gojo Satoru x reader

After Geto’s rampage, you start to fall into a pit of darkness. You want to leave the Jujutsu society but Gojo doesn’t want to. He wants you to be there for him along the way but can he convince you to if you’re so broken? Gojo will always be there for you, don’t you know that? Because between you and him, he is just Gojo satoru.

It’s been 3 weeks since the incident with Geto happened. 3 weeks since the massacre, 3 weeks of not seeing him, 3 weeks of more missions and 3 weeks of feeling lonely. The higher ups were not considerate, they had the nerve to give you more missions, not allowing you to take a break.

You’re done. You’re so tired, tired of the Jujutsu society. The higher ups are selfish and you will only witness more deaths before meeting your own doom. What am you even here for? You don’t even know, who am I doing this for? You can’t answer because there is no answer.

Sometimes you wonder what it’s like to live a normal life, to be so free and happy without witnessing death that just breaks you. Maybe it’s time to experience that and leave the Jujutsu world behind before it’s too late.

——————————————————————————————————

“Y/n…”

A voice calls out to you and you turn around to find Satoru sitting down next to you on the bench. You stare at him, knowing that he knows that you’re not ok.

Everyone knows, even Nanami who has been going distant. Shoko could tell that you were also not ok. Yaga was very worried about you but he couldn’t get anything out of you. Gojo decided to try to talk to you, he has the closest friend you had after all.

“Umm is there anything you want to talk about? You haven’t been yourself lately” he said, trying to find the right words to say.

Letting out a sigh, you decide to tell him because you’re gonna leave anyways. “I want to leave Jujutsu Tech”

You could feel the many different emotions that Gojo was experiencing. Shock, confusion and denial.

“W-what..?” He stutters.

“I want to leave Jujutsu Tech and the Jujutsu world, live a normal life.” You state.

“No..why? Is it because if the situation with Geto? Y/n please, as Jujutsu sorcerers this is expected, we’ll get through this y/n just please don’t-“

And that’s when you let out all the emotions that you’ve been feeling for the past few weeks. You stood up, “Because I’m tired! I’m tired Satoru, I’m tired of everything! Loosing people, witnessing my friends die, missions, I don’t even have a chance to fix myself! I’m just so sick and tired of everything! I want to live a normal life, I’m 16 gojo, I’m just a teenager yet I’m here saving lives, I should be studying, having fun with friends, going out, shopping, travelling…”

You turn away, not wanting to see his pitiful expression but a pair of arms wrap around you , making you turn, Gojo was hugging you, the strongest sorcerer.

Gojo knew that he could be himself around you, he could be Gojo Satoru around you, not the strongest. He doesn’t hesitate to hug you.

His hugging makes it impossible for you to escape.

“Y/n..i know that you’re devastated with everything happening right now but me, shoko and nanami are as well.. we need you y/n to be there with us, I need you! We’ll go through this together, we’ll find a way! I’ll do anything..absolutely anything! Just please….don’t leave me like everyone else…?” He lets his words and begging out without a doubt.

You start to resist, fighting back so you can just run away but Gojo holds you tightly, going even tighter as you wince.

“S-satoru..l-let go…y-you’re h-hurting m-me”

He softens his grip, still hugging you “don’t go y/n, please stay with me..”

“B-but I’m tired Satoru…” You say while a tear starts to escape your eye.

Gojo starts to rub circles on your back while you cry. “Y/n I have a dream, a dream to reform the Jujutsu world, I will become a teacher at Jujutsu tech and I want you to be there for me…if you leave, my dream will be incomplete so please, please stay with me…”

Your body feels light as you weaken, Gojo holds you in a bridal style now, you wrap your arms around his neck. “I..I don’t want to stay…I have no idea why I’m even doing this! Do you know how scary it is? We’re just here working until we die…”

“Then..stay for me!” Gojo declares “you have me, shoko and nanami here with you and I’m sure you won’t die, you’re strong and i would never let you die, i’m the strongest after all”

You let out a smile “fine…I’ll stay….just for you”

And from that point, Gojo carries you back to the world you hate the most, the world that you just can’t stand. But maybe it won’t be bad later on, as long as Gojo is by your side, he always will be, he’ll never leave you.

——————————————————————————————————

You smile at the photo card in front of you, the photo that you and Gojo created a week after you tried to leave. He was true to his word and was with you every step. Even when Geto’s death was announced, you felt no sadness. Just pity that things had to turn out that way.

You put the photo card back in your pocket and hear a notification from your phone. You open it to see a text from Gojo.

“Hey y/n ~~, amazing bestfriend Satoru here :], meet me at the park tonight at 7pm! No exceptions!”

You giggle at the text, leaving a yes reply.

Gojo will always be there for you, even if he’s always busy and being the strongest, he will always have time for you because between you and him, he is just Gojo satoru.

#jjk #gojo comfort #gojo satoru #jjk comfort #jjk headcanons #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk angst #angst #gojo angst #geto angst #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #geto suguru #Gojo comfort

[brabblesblog]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Ch 7: He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

An adventurous evening leads to renewed intimacy.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Full image on twitter.

Getting to the bedroom was easier now; Ban shrugged off her shirt and rushed for the bed the moment she was inside the room. Her husband followed suit, hands flying across the buttons of his doublet. He didn’t manage to get it all the way off in his rush, crawling up the bed after her, a hand reaching for her waist and pinning her down underneath him.

He stared down at her, hair falling in a slightly unruly mess, eyes raking over her body with an eager, hungry gaze. Ban reached out, grasping the lapels of his doublet, moving to push it off his shoulders.

“Eager, aren’t we, darling?” he teased, but he removed it anyway, tossing it aside before replacing his hands on either side of her body, pressing her into the bed. Hovering over her like this he seemed almost threatening, the slight part of his lips showing off the tips of his fangs, reminiscent of a wildcat, lithe and graceful and dangerous.

“More than eager,” she quipped in response, slightly distracted. Her mind flitted back to Roderich; seeing her father again had brought to light how he still could make her feel inadequate, as if everything she had done these past years without him didn’t matter at all, as if she was that naive girl again, needing his approval and his love.

Astarion seemed to notice the way her thoughts changed; his face softened and a hand cupped her cheek. “If you’d rather chat than play, I’d be amenable to that,” he murmured. “I’m quite certain there are a fair amount of… thoughts on your mind, given what just occurred.”

“You’re not wrong,” she admitted. “But it can wait.”

Astarion finally leaned down to kiss her, warm lips pressing against her own, his tongue slipping in to tangle with hers. The soft puffs of his breath felt nice, its heat ghosting over her face like a caress, derailing most of her thoughts.

A soft sigh, and she kissed him back, her own arms wrapping around him to pull him down to her. As she did, she felt the rough bumps of the scars on his back; he made no indication he was bothered by her touching them, too busy settling on his elbows to get closer to her.

Ban’s mind wandered a little at that, at these reminders of her husband’s previous life. He was worthy of more than she currently gave, deserved a love that would cherish and trust him as he has worked so hard to do for her. Knowing this, however, did not make it easy, and she moved a hand to grip his hair, tugging his silver curls with just the right amount of tension.

In time, she promised herself. Telling him of her past was the first step of many; Ban knew opening herself up fully required much more.

Astarion broke the kiss, eyes refocusing on her face. He looked a little dazed; she wasn’t sure if it was the kiss or the hand fisted in his hair, but he was gorgeous like this. He blinked twice, scanning her features, seemingly sensing very little of her inner turmoil. As he’d gotten better at reading her she’d also gotten better at hiding her deeper emotions - probably not too well, she figured, knowing he still sensed something’s being obscured, but enough that he wasn’t certain, and enough that he didn’t try to pry.

In her musing, she missed the fact that he’d seen and he knows, that he was just playing along with her wishes, his heart yet again taking the hit to keep her blissfully unaware. She missed that he knew she didn’t quite trust him the way he did her, that his hold on her heart was incomplete and slippery, that he knew she was aware of what he needed and yet could not - would not - give it, except for small crumbs that he had to fight for. Missed that he was exhausted, hurting, and always holding back the urge to lash out because he couldn’t bear to do that to her again, didn’t want to ever let that side out again, not when it came to her.

Ban loosened the fist gripping Astarion’s hair, pushing back the stray strands falling across his face. He smiled, an achingly beautiful thing, and leaned back down to press more kisses against her neck.

“I’d rather do this. We… we can talk another time,” she managed, hoping he’d accept. She felt him stiffen for a heartbeat, and then he nodded, lips continuing their path along her collarbone.

“So… you mentioned sucking my cock, did you not?” He pressed his body flush against hers, grinding his hips playfully; Ban noticed he still kept his face hidden away, tucked against her neck, and frowned

“I did, yes, although… are you alright?” she asked, a hand absently slipping under his trousers to cup his ass. This only seemed to encourage the delicious grinding; he sped up, small pants escaping his parted lips.

For a moment the only sound he made was his breathing as he seemingly considered his answer. “Mostly,” he admitted, “but it needn’t be a concern at this moment.” Lifting himself slightly off her, he shifted his weight onto one elbow, reaching down to slowly unto the laces of his trousers.

“I… I am trying,” she muttered, a little hesitantly. It wasn’t easy, she wanted to tell him. He’d always been a contradictory thing to her: a source of comfort, yes, but also the cause of so much pain; their months of being in that horrible parody of a relationship had tarnished her trust in him. Her avoidant and rather aloof nature was a learned habit, mostly from her family but also from him - one she was trying to undo, but was still struggling with.

She didn’t want to tell him that his recent stunt with the mirror hadn’t helped matters, either. Forgiving him was one thing - trusting him wholly was another.

A grunt answered her as he finally gave up on the one-handed attempt to undress; he rolled away to quickly remove the rest of his clothing by the side of the bed. As he did his eyes met hers, and for once he didn't hide, allowing the walls to lower briefly.

“It hasn’t escaped my notice, Ban,” he replied, “and I can wait. But I, too, would rather do this.” His voice was quiet, all playfulness gone for the moment; he stepped out of his trousers, looking down as his cock bobbed, not quite hard anymore but most of the way there. Long, elegant fingers wrapped around the length and he stroked himself languidly.

When he looked up again it was with wide doe eyes, a look which he used to devastating effect when he wished to, but this time there was no hint of guile in it. He half-smiled at her, one side of his mouth curling upwards. “I suppose I can endure anything, as long as you still love me.”

Torn, she only managed a choked garble of words, then cleared her throat. “Astarion, gods. Of course I do. My love for you has never changed.” She was a little worried about that but pushed it aside for now; they’d both agreed the conversation could come after.

Astarion looked at her pensively, her words seemingly mollifying him. He clambered back onto the bed, settling in front of her crossed legs, his half-smile growing into a full smirk as he slipped back into their little game. “Since you’ve been so kind as to let me take charge, love, I want you to do as I say. Lay back and spread your legs. I want to see you.”

Surprised, she did as he asked, propping herself on the pillows and leaning back. The moment she spread her legs he laid on his stomach, sliding between them. The sight was mouthwatering, and, well… some other parts, too.

He paused, tilting his head towards her inner thigh, running a hand over the smooth, unmarked skin. Muscles twitched expectantly under his touch, and Ban shifted nervously. “Astarion,” she began. “We haven’t done this in a while. Just be…” she trailed off, not wanting him to realize the extent of the anxiety she still felt.

Astarion nodded, solemn. “I shan’t push too far; and should you feel the need, you have only to say the word.” One last look to confirm they were both alright and ready, then he pressed a soft kiss on the spot his hand was kneading, lips pressing gently and then slowly transitioning into slow suction. Half-lidded eyes looked up at her as he did; Ban fought the urge to tell him to suck somewhere else, but she didn’t stop her hips from jerking, thrusting towards his head.

He laughed darkly, a hand reaching up to pinch a nipple. He was rewarded with a low gasp and tutted disapprovingly when she tried to tilt her hips towards his face again. “Patience. You do know what happens when you misbehave.”

“I am not mis-” the rest of her words were swallowed up in a whine as he bit into the meat of her thigh, a firm nip that drew some blood. He didn’t waste it, latching on and suckling, drinking what little flowed. The other hand lingered on her nipple for a bit, then slid down, grasping her waist. The large, warm palm pressed against Ban’s skin made her squirm, wanting that heat and that mouth on her aching core.

“You said something, my sweet?” Astarion teased, licking up the last of the blood. His tongue traced one last, long stripe then drifted up to mouth at the seam of her inner thigh; hand following alongside. Ban groaned, the heat almost too much, too close and yet still so far away.

“Astarion, gods,” Ban hissed. She knew what he wanted, for her to succumb and plead and show some vulnerability for once. When they’d done this in the Shadow-Cursed lands, when he’d used his fingers and tongue and words to drive her wild it was much easier; a lot of that had been lost after the rite. It had still felt good, that had never changed; but the slow degradation of their relationship had tainted it. Now, however, she wanted to give it to him, so very badly - it just didn’t come as naturally as it used to.

Astarion smiled again, this time with a lot less heat, more sincere than anything else. “No gods,” he murmured, “only you and me.”

She couldn’t help but appreciate his effort; getting her to show more vulnerability within the confines of sex might be the best way to ease her into it outside of the bedroom. With the way he’d coaxed her into telling him what she wanted on the throne and again earlier today, she thought he had the right idea; it felt a lot easier to let her walls down when he was between her legs.

The hand not on her thigh spread her open as he leaned in; he blew gently on her, the sheer warmth of his breath sending shivers down her spine. “Tell me what you desire, darling,” he drawled, darling growled out in a lower timbre.

“Why? Will you give it?” She asked, and his eyes flicked over to her face.

“If you ask very, very nicely,” he countered, “perhaps I’ll feel merciful.” He made it a point to hover over where she wanted him most, eyes locked onto hers. Ban shifted, propping herself up on her elbows to get a better view.

“I am not-” she cut off with a strangled gasp as he admonished her with a none-too-gentle flick of his index finger against her clit. The pleasure was electric, coursing through her with a mix of surprise and pain that caught her completely off guard. She sighed, giving in. “Fine. Fine. I need your mouth on me. Please.”

Astarion tilted his head with feigned inquisitiveness, then flicked the tip of his tongue against her clit, keeping her spread open for him, a feast ready for the taking. He licked her entrance in one slow, teasing motion. She bucked her hips in an effort to get more friction, but he kept her firmly pinned against the bed. He’d positioned the arm being used to spread her open so that his elbow pressed down on her thigh, and the fingers of his free hand dug into the other.

“Delicious,” he whispered, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment. “It would taste better, however, were I to hear you beg for it.”

Ban almost started to get mad, considered telling him to knock it off. It wasn’t that she wasn’t enjoying herself, because gods, she was. They hadn’t done this in forever, and the part of her that wanted to supplicate at his feet missed those times and longed to do it again. But the niggling distrust was still there, ugly and sitting on her chest, an ever-demanding presence. She refused to let it gain ground, and shoved it aside.

She took a slow, deep breath, watching him. He’d opened his eyes again, patiently waiting; a small dribble of her blood lingered at the side of his mouth and he absently licked at it. She saw the hesitation behind the playful role he’d assumed, his need to do right by her evident.

“Astarion,” she finally conceded, “please. I need you to lick me, touch me. Love me.”

His eyes brightened at that, and for a second he almost looked shy. “Why of course, darling,” he began; there was a pregnant pause where he considered his next words, which ended with a quick, vehement whisper of “I love you.” Then just as fast he slid back into his seductive role, eyes shuttering.

With that, he finally gave in, shifting so that his elbows supported him as he leaned forward to press his lips where she desired them. Fingers held her lips open, his tongue laving long, wet licks against her entrance. Her hands sought something to grab, settling on a pillow behind her.

“Astarion-” she called out, but he was too lost in his task to pay attention; she could feel his warm lips wrapping around her clit, mouthing and suckling gently. A moan escaped her and she reached out with one hand, grasping the curls falling over his forehead, trying to catch his attention.

He looked up, his pupils so dilated the crimson of his eyes was reduced to a thin line, but his mouth didn't stop moving. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, a quick move that said don’t tell me to stop, I’m enjoying this, and he closed his eyes again. As if to emphasize his point his tongue began flicking against her too; the suction combined with the brush of his tongue eliminated all other thoughts in her head.

“Thank you,” she gasped out, and Astarion paused once more, this time with brows furrowed in confusion. Do better, Ban, she berated herself. Sighing again, she forced the next words out.

“This… is helpful. Just… thank you.” It’s not enough, and she resolved to say more later. She felt a rush of affection when she saw his eyes crinkle up in a small smile; that alone made it easier. She’d do better. For him.

For now, she let herself get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling around her clit, in the cool silk cradling her bare body, the strain of having her legs pushed apart, in the- oh, the glorious feel of him slipping a finger in - in the pleasure of it all. Astarion’s attentiveness to her body and her needs and wants was so obvious, so reverent. He’d learned it all from their time together, and he adores her, so damned much, and she was determined to give it back in kind-

He didn’t breathe, didn't pause, fingers and mouth working, the other hand deftly lifting one leg over his shoulder, allowing him better access. Ban leaned forward, trying to see and mostly failing; he was too deeply buried in her cunt to even catch a glimpse of anything other than a mess of white curls and closed eyes. She could hear him moan amongst the obscene sounds of his fingers and tongue, his cheek resting against the thigh hitched over him.

“Astarion,” she whimpered, feeling him slip a second finger in and start pumping harder; the groan that escaped her was completely involuntary. She gripped the pillow tighter, covering her mouth to stifle her cries, the silk encasing it luxurious against her face. Her hips bucked wantonly, rolling without much thought, seeking more of Astarion, as if it were possible. She wanted, needed the wet heat of his tongue, those fingers slamming against her spot, could feel her climax building, faster and harder and closer and please-

Astarion stilled abruptly, pulling away with a smug look; its effect a little dampened by how devastatingly aroused he looked, as though he was mere seconds away from losing control and ravaging her. He drew in a breath to speak. “You do look cute when you’re all needy like this,” he purred, licking his lips; his entire mouth and chin were drenched and Ban fought the urge to tug him close and taste herself on him. “I do feel that I need… a little more incentive to finish you off, however.”

“Incentive,” she breathed, peering over the pillow she’d now brought in front of her. She was about to protest when he pushed his fingers in again, drawing out a loud, desperate “gods!” from her.

“Don’t cover your mouth, darling; I do so like hearing you.” He snatched the pillow in one move, throwing it aside. “Now, tell me how badly you want me, Ban, and I’ll let you come.” The fingers inside her still moved, albeit slowly, dragging out the pleasure, keeping her in place - captive to the near-overwhelming need to come and the knowledge that only his mouth would suffice.

Ban scowled a little, but it was weak; she exhaled. “You know how much I want you.” Those words were punished by another nip on her thigh and a low growl.

“Say it.”

That voice demanded to be obeyed but she could still see the hidden plea behind it, subtle as it was. “Astarion.” Ban fisted her hand in the sheets, preparing for what he was about to do. “I love you. Only ever you. Now… please. I’m begging you. Please let me come.”

It wasn’t so hard to say, she found; the desperate need in her overriding her stubborn pride. He smiled, a devilishly toothy one that sharpened his features, wordlessly diving back between her legs. His hand reached up, guiding her fingers to her clit, a wordless instruction she obeyed without hesitation.

Astarion lapped at her, tongue swirling - the sensation was absolutely decadent - slipping two fingers inside her and fucking her as she rubbed her clit. Hot, deliberate breaths warmed her skin and made both her desire and her wetness pool - for once she was glad he no longer ran cold. The throaty moans he made as he generously laved her with his tongue, his attention, all of it… it was almost enough to push her over the edge.

Her back arched, mind wandering to when they’d first met, and how she’d longed to know how his mouth would feel on her clit, how his tongue would feel, from that very first day. He’d always been like a waking dream to her - at times a nightmare - but still always the object of her desire, of her love. That she could have this now, every single day if she wanted, that she need only ask and he would gladly dive between her legs and worship her exactly where she wanted it and make her come again and again with unrelenting dedication if she demanded it... The joy of it was overwhelming.

Those long fingers moved deep inside her, teasing out her pleasure bit by bit, each pass making her thighs tremble. The warmth of that talented tongue sliding around her entrance, then flicking up to lick at the underside of her clit while her fingers rubbed as well was glorious and beautiful and he is hers forevermore and he loves her so, so much and sometimes he still alarms her but-

No. Not here, not now. She pushed that thought aside, bringing her mind back into the moment. She focused first on the heat of his breaths, the delightful stretching when he inserted a third finger and thrusted, then on the delicate slide of her own fingers, speeding up now that she was almost at the edge. Her world narrowed down to the wonderful push-pull of his fingers and the rapidly blossoming fire in her belly and his needy growls and his tongue caressing her most intimate spots, the vibration and the stretching and the thrusting and the licking and the rubbing and the heat just godsdamned perfect-

She screamed, biting down on her hand in a feeble attempt to stifle her cry. Astarion only powered on, fingers thrusting fast, tongue lapping at every last inch of her like a man starved. He let her ride his face through her orgasm, moaning as her hips thrusted to press against him, thighs squeezing his head between them, his other hand digging into her twitching leg. When she finally came down from her high, he gave her clit one last, hard, suck. She squirmed, planting a foot on his shoulder, gently trying to push him off.

He finally pulled away, smiling softly as he sat up and wiped the evidence of her pleasure from his face, licking the fingers that had just been inside her. There was a small dot of moisture on the silk sheet where his precum had soaked in. He was hard, had probably been grinding into the bed this entire time, Ban realized, and that mental image made her mouth water.

“I wouldn’t mind doing that every day, darling,” he purred. Having you come all over my face is divine.”

“I think you definitely enjoyed yourself,” she quipped, nodding at his erection. Astarion looked down at himself, as though he’d just noticed he was hard. He placed a finger on the tip, pulling it away to reveal a trailing string of precum. A wry grin crossed his face.

“Well, now that it’s my turn… I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock.”

Ban swallowed. Gods. She’d definitely missed this.

“Ban.” Astarion raised an eyebrow, stern. “I need a resounding yes before we proceed.”

She found her mouth opening before her brain could catch up. “Gods, love. Yes.”

Astarion left the bed, sauntering to the wall facing the half-closed windows. The gardens lay below, a rather fetching sight normally; he completely ignores it, his eyes only for Ban. He watched her approach as he leaned back a little to lounge against the wall, crossing his arms and giving her an insolent smirk. He shifted so that he was comfortable, spreading his legs slightly.

“Kneel.” The command was firm and brooked no argument.

She did so without a word, eyes locked onto his. Salivating at the view, her fingers reached up to trace his hipbone delicately, heart racing in eager anticipation.

The sight of her on her knees, that hungry look on her face, for him, sent a thrum of heat through his body.

“Two taps here if you need to stop.” He demonstrated, tapping two of his fingers against the hard planes of his stomach; she nodded, licking her lips. He barely stifled a groan at the surge of anticipation that slammed into him at the sight.

Cool fingers wrapped around his cock, a thumb playfully swiping at the slowly forming liquid at the tip; the sensation made him jerk. He was suddenly painfully aware that he was far closer than he thought, a small huff of frustration slipping out at the realization that all that grinding on the bed as he ate her out may have worked a little too well. He slid a hand into her hair, angling her head slightly.

“Don’t dither; suck,” he snapped, hips shifting closer to her face, fingers tightening in her hair. So far this attempt at being more aggressive had been successful and he did feel elated and relieved; he knew however that this part may potentially be its undoing.

But she didn’t stop, nor did she immediately listen, because of course. Instead she licked a stripe from his balls to the head of his cock, sending a low thrill of arousal through him. He gave a firm tug on her hair in warning before parting his legs a little more, the need quickly overriding his worry. His free hand reached down to grip her shoulder as her fingers stroked his shaft, lips hovering over him There was a quick kiss to the bottom of his cockhead before she finally took him between her lips; the groan that escaped him was one of desperation.

The hand on her head tightened, grasping the braids as promised; he chuckled a little, amused. She shifted closer to him and he roughly pulled her down onto him, encouraging her to hurry up and oh- the thought dissolved as Ban swallowed the rest of his length down. He gasped quietly, purring out a soft “My sweet, yes.”

He could feel the softness of her mouth and the ridges of her throat as his tip hit the back. She swallowed around him, the undulating motion causing his hips to thrust forwards, the muscles of his stomach flexing. Astarion fixed his gaze on the sight before him, the hand in her hair pushing her head down to grind her lips around his base.

Her answering smile was everything, even if it wasn’t much of a smile with his cock in her mouth, really - more like a crinkling of the eyes than anything else. Her hands gripped his hips as she moved only slightly, teasingly, the motions punctuated by the loud, sloppy sounds he thought she was likely making on purpose; she then moaned, that sound sincere but deliberate.

And gods, if that wasn’t the best sound in the world.

Astarion groaned; hips rolling in time with her mouth, chasing her lips as she pulled away, settling back as she took him back in. A thought flitted through his hazy mind: I’m supposed to be taking charge. He slid his other hand into her hair, applying a bit more force, holding her in place with both hands so she couldn’t pull back at all. He thrusted in and out of her mouth, fucking her with increasing abandon. There were no words, just the loud, debauched sounds of their union and his increasingly loud moans. He pulled most of the way out, admiring the glistening of her saliva all over his cock, the dazed, lust-filled gaze she leveled at him, pupils blown wide and her lips still parted, just for him. He brought his hips forward in one long motion, sinking himself down her throat, watching her eyes close as she moaned. Astarion felt her hands grip his ass as he fucked her mouth, nails digging into his flesh in that glorious mix of pleasure and pain.

There she was, his beautiful love, mouth ready and willing for him, her perfect, petite breasts swaying with his every thrust, unbreathing so he needn’t stop taking his pleasure. Magnificent.

He was close, teetering on the precipice of his peak; the feeling of complete abandon, of her soft, wet mouth, of her trust so intoxicating he knew holding back would soon be impossible. He couldn’t help himself, pushing her down even further, a silent demand for more; not that he was being quiet at all, the whimpers and gasps and groans that escaped him now wanton and needy.

Her eyes locked onto his and she inched closer between his legs to allow him even deeper, angling to take more of him, her throat tightening and her tongue swiping across his length. Astarion squeezed his eyes shut, his toes curling as his hips stuttered, losing their rhythm. He repositioned one leg, angling his hips to thrust harder and deeper, wanting every single inch of him down her throat when he came. Close, so damn close but he tried to hold on just a little more-

“Swallow,” he growled out. “All of it.” His eyes flicked open, blown-out and hazy with lust, wanting to see.

She met his eyes, her own still glassy and lust-ridden, one hand drifting down to massage his balls. That pushed him over the edge; Astarion felt his orgasm slam into him, his cock pulsing in her mouth. He shuddered hard, his back arching against the wall, head thrown back, crying out as his climax overwhelmed him. She swallowed down all he had to give, and he could feel everything - his come hot as it hit her cooler flesh, her mouth and throat clenching around him as she swallowed, her tongue curling around the underside of his cock as it spasmed over and over again, so much come that he wondered if it would ever stop. He shivered as the sensations slowly faded, fingers trembling as he sank more of his weight against the wall and released his grip on her hair.

Ban sucked her way back up his length, the flat of her tongue lapping the last of his spend from his tip, teasing out one last agonized whine from him as it briefly became too much. He breathed hard, eyes fixed on her, not quite sure what to say. A quip about fucking her mouth would have seemed appropriate, but was quickly discarded. We’re not quite there yet. Instead he caressed her hair gently, realizing exactly what she wanted to hear. “Good girl.”

She looked up at him, smug and satisfied, glowing from the praise. His body moved before his mind could register it, pulling her up in an embrace.

Ban burrowed into the crook of his neck, feeling his ragged breathing begin to slow as he recovered. The body pressed against her own was slick with sweat, his heart still racing. She lifted her head to press a kiss on his cheek.

“Come here,” she said, tugging his arm and leading him back to their bed. He followed her, body so loose as to seem boneless. As they settled in he immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, as if unwilling to be parted for even a moment. She found this wonderfully amusing and extremely endearing, her own hands running through his sweat-damp curls, causing some to fall over his closed eyes.

In this moment there was little room for anything other than him, her Astarion, who’d suffered so much and who she’d almost lost - who’d clawed his way back inch by painful inch. For her.

She reflected on how far he’d come, from completely closed off, to guarded, to slowly letting his walls down, to beautiful nights spent in each other’s arms under the stars. Even the hurdle of his ascension had not completely ruined their love - he’d fought his way back from the brink for her, from the icy callousness he’d been swallowed by after the rite to this, willingly soft and pliant and resting in her arms.

“I love you,” Ban murmured.

She watched him open his eyes, the crimson orbs impossibly tender. He exhaled once, a smile coming alive on his beautiful face.

“I love you too.” He murmured quietly.

His eyes scanned her face, as if worried. She quickly tried to reassure him.

“I very much enjoyed it,” her voice was emphatic. “Every single second of it. I did miss it. I missed you.”

The anxiety in his eyes recedes, his brows untangling and his smile widening.

“That’s wonderful to know,” he brushed the hair from his forehead as he spoke. “I admit I found myself worrying, at moments-”

“I would have let you know.” she promised, wanting to end that train of thought. Still, she sensed some discomfort. “Is there something you need, love?”

Astarion nodded. He looked away, thoughts drifting back on the earlier conversation, hands tightening on her muscled limbs. “There need not be anything more, for now.” The stabbing feeling in his chest told him it wasn’t quite fine, but he wanted to try to make it so.

She shook her head, face buried where his heart felt like it was bleeding out. “Astarion, I… I am trying, as I said. It’s just that earlier… was a bit of a setback for me.”

A soft sigh escaped him as the realization hit. Of course. It probably also didn’t help that her father was so much like him, an unfortunate fact that ate at him, but that he felt powerless to fix. Her words helped, of course, but still.

“Thank you, though,” she added, and his head whipped down to look at her in surprise. She smiled, a painfully shy thing. “Your idea - making me tell you what I want, you being rougher and more aggressive - it helps a lot.”

There was comfort there, at least.

“I am grateful,” Astarion managed. “As for everything else…” he trails off.

“I am sorry,” she offered. “I swear I will get there. I just need-”

“Time.” He knew he shouldn’t resent her for it, for problems partially caused by him, but he did all the same.

He resented how easy she had it, that she could just choose whether to open herself up to him or not, without consequence; that she still didn’t trust him fully. Yes, he’d made mistakes, but hadn’t he been behaving, giving her everything she needed and demanded, forcing himself open at her whim? And was that truly the key to her heart - acting like an obedient pup? Did she enjoy that he couldn’t leave her or even be mad at her, not that he ever wanted to - no, of course not!

It just hurt, a dull ache with every heartbeat.

As painful as it was, however, Astarion brushed these wounds away once more. He did see her trying, saw her opening up like a flower blooming in springtime; it was simply that he wished it were faster, that he could bask in its beauty sooner.

For her to trust him he had to trust her in turn, to have faith in her love for him. That, he felt, was a far easier goal than making her open up - it was something he had already been doing, after all, entrusting her with his heart.

He merely hoped she wouldn't keep crushing it in her hands forever.

If you would like to see more of these two and their story, consider reading my other entries in the series "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there."

I am happy to announce that 'Whither is thy beloved gone?' is getting professionally edited as well. I shall keep everyone abreast of when these changes go live. Thank you!

Taglist: @tavamarie @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decedentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind @pursuitseternal @youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann @wisteriaofthegraves @midnight-musings-of-nyx @toni-winchester @icybluepenguin @beepersteeper @hereliesblackdragon @generalstephkenobi

#astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion fic #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #bg3 fan art #bg3 fanart #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fanart #astarion ascended #ascended astarion #ascendant astarion #vampire ascendant #ascended astarion x f!tav #ascended astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion smut #bg3 smut #bg3 romance #astarion art #astarion x oc #astarion x female oc

[galvanizedfriend]

Klaroline Fanfiction Masterlist

It's been a minute since I last updated my masterlist so I decided to go ahead and start a new one. Yokan // ▪ Multi-chapters

. The Wolf Series [I, II, III and Outtakes - Incomplete] When Caroline wakes up shackled, powerless and very far away from Mystic Falls, she knows she's in serious trouble. But when a woman named Sophie Deveraux reveals the reason why she's been kidnapped and taken to New Orleans, she realizes things are far worse than she could've ever imagined.

[The Originals rewriting where Caroline is a witch and gets pregnant with Klaus' child. Seasons 1, 2 and 3 complete, season 4 coming.]

. Vice and Virtue [6/6 - Complete] As the second son of a Duke, Klaus Mikaelson has the means and all the time in the world to indulge in every manner of wild activity with very little respect for the regiment of polite society. That is until his brother decides he's had enough of his vulgar ways and gives him an ultimatum. Caroline Forbes is a young debutante in search of true love and adventure. Except her aunt wishes for her to marry a somber Viscount who's already buried three wives. When their paths cross, they realize they might yet strike a deal that could satisfy their relatives and benefit them both.

[AH Regency!AU inspired by Bridgerton and a dozen other period novels I have been reading lately.]

. Pedulum [2/2 - Complete] This is what Klaus Mikaelson knows: death isn't the end for him. From the moment he is brought into the world to his final shuddering breath, Klaus' life is pretty much the same as everyone else's. The difference lies in what happens after he dies: he goes right back to the beginning, a child in London with the memory of dozens of lives lived before. Nothing ever really changes, including the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he can never save Caroline Forbes' life for too long.

[AH/soulmates!AU with a slight magical twist. Technically a one-shot, chapter 2 is just an alternate ending.]

. We'll Always Have New Orleans [3/15 - Incomplete] Caroline wakes up in a world where everything looks exactly the same, only nothing really is. For starters, she's no longer a vampire, and no one else in Mystic Falls has ever heard of witches, vampires or werewolves - no one except for Klaus, who woke up just as human and twice as angry about it. Their search for answers and a way out takes them all the way to New Orleans, and Caroline could never anticipate how much this crazy fake world was about to alter her reality forever.

[Canon-divergence!AU. Set right after TVD 4x18.]

. Speed Dating [3/4 - Incomplete] Klaus is having a bad month, so Caroline decides it's a great idea to drag him along to a round of Speed Dating. Other men in the room do not approve.

AH/AU fluff that was inspired by an episode of House (yes, it is fluff, I promise).

. Gasoline [2/2 - Complete] "He doesn't apologize, of course he doesn't. He doesn't care. He calls everyone love. It's not meant to mean anything. Except it did, once, and it makes Caroline's stomach churn away inside, as she feels Klaus crawling underneath her skin like he never left at all. I've still got you."

AH/Band!AU. Two years after Klaus walked out on his band - on her -, Caroline finds herself in her least favorite place on earth - New Orleans. She really did try to stay away from him, escaping an event just to keep off his radar. He finds her anyway.

. Like It's Christmas Again [2/2 - Complete] As Christmas approaches, Caroline Forbes, a New York-based event planner, is sent to a quaint small town in Virginia to organize their holiday festival. But her plans are momentarily hindered by the presence of Klaus Mikaelson, the Mayor's brother and a grumpy billionaire lacking in any holiday spirit, who's in town to close the sale of his family's manor - the charming estate she was hoping to use as a venue.

[AKA that time when I committed Christmas fic. AU/AH inspired by a Hallmark movie, I kid you not.]

. Spin [5/5 - Complete] Since she was seven years old, Caroline Forbes has been preparing herself to become President of the United States. But before she gets to the Oval Office, she needs to win the election for senior student president at the prestigious Saint Sebastian High - which would be in the bag if only goddamn Klaus Mikaelson hadn't decided to run against her.

[AH/AU lovers-to rivals-to-lovers The Politician!AU where everyone takes school elections way more seriously than they should.]

. How Far I'd Go [2/2 - Complete for now] Set in TVD S6/TO S2. Unable to control Caroline after she turns her humanity off, Stefan reaches out to the only person he can think of for help.

[Slices of moments of Klaus in Mystic Falls while Caroline has her humanity off.] ▪ One-shots

. The Sound of Settling Klaus hates his job at Mikaelson & Sons. He hates wearing a suit. He also hates his brothers constantly butting into his life. Everything will be better once he gets his much desired transfer to the New York branch. Caroline Forbes is the owner of Mystic Café, and when Klaus accidentally wanders into her coffee shop, his whole perspective changes. [AH/Coffee Shop!AU where Klaus is a lawyer. Fluffity Fluff. Lots of Mikaelsons and some Carenzo friendship.] . The Witch Queen Caroline always knew she was different. She was keyed into her own otherness very early on. Strange things happened around the Forbes women. Her mother never really had to spell it out to her, give it a name. Caroline could always sort of feel it, and then at some point the feeling blossomed into comprehension, and comprehension hardened into fact. And with that came an altogether different kind of certainty: this was not a secret she'd be able to keep forever. One day, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, everyone would find out. And when they did, they would come for her.

. Worst Things Have Happened Klaus Mikaelson is a prince with a very dark secret that threatens to destroy his family's legacy. Caroline Forbes is a sorceress whose job is to make sure his secret remains buried. But would it hurt him to put some clothes on? [Royal!AU, with a magical twist.] . The Unexpected Grace of Falling Apart The whole incident was bound to go down as a funny anecdote to be shared among friends, a Oh, you think you've had the worst hook-up ever? Hold my beer kind of story. Provided, of course, that she never had to see him ever and could just wipe him out of her life and memory for good. Given that they live in different time zones, it shouldn't be too much of a hassle.

That is precisely why Caroline is livid when she emerges from the arrivals area at Richmond airport to find Douchebag, in the flesh - sunglasses indoors and all, like the proper jerk that he is - holding up a sign that readsClarisse.

[AH/AU. It's Tyler's wedding weekend and Caroline is back in Mystic Falls for the first time after the most traumatic and depressing year of her life. And it's about to get even worse as she's made to share breathing space with Klaus, The Worst Guy Ever. Except they might have to join forces to save the wedding, and to the discovery that things might not be what the seem. As Caroline teeters on the edge of a breakdown she'd been trying very hard to conceal, an unexpected savior appears to help her through the haze.]

. love, the monster's got me now [Canon compliant. Set in TVD S03E09 Homecoming.]

"Don't run," he says calmly, sounding almost bored, but with a clear warning. "I'm in the mood for a chase. Little spoiler: you can't outrun me." His eyebrows twitch up when he finally turns around to face her, lips curling into an amused grin. "Tyler's girl," he states, gesturing towards the now empty yard. "You missed out on the celebrations, I’m afraid."

[Or: the missing Klaroline scene between "There's your pretty little girlfriend, Caroline" and "There's a whole world out there waiting for you." Klaus and Caroline meet after Homecoming.]

. When It's Gone Suddenly, Caroline hates how nice the bed feels. How soft the pillows are. How smooth and cool and expensive those goddamn sheets are against her skin. She hates the giddiness in her belly, like she's a stupid schoolgirl when she's not allowed to be one anymore. She hates how right the space between Klaus' arms felt, how easily she molded against him. His lips were as full and as soft as they looked, but his hands were gentler and more reverent than they had any right to be, and Caroline hates it. Hates it, hates it, hates it. She hates that it suits her, hates that she wants it, hates that none of it is hers to keep.

[Set after TVD S04E19 Pictures of You. Caroline hears about Klaus' impending departure after a mysterious letter and decides to have some words.] . Wishing Each Sigh Might Be the Last The first time she sees him, Caroline thinks he's an angel.

[Set in 1800s New Orleans. As Caroline lies dying, she prays for God to send help or end her torment and save her soul. She thinks an angel has come for her. But he's no angel at all.] . Feel the Madness Closing In Set in TO S3. Caroline is in New Orleans when Lucien and the Ancestors make a move against the Mikaelson family - and they know exactly who to target in order to get to Klaus. Paranoia sets in, sending him to a very dark place, and Caroline finally learns the price of being loved so profoundly by a monster. . Issues When Klaus' Hollywood career takes a down turn after a nasty divorce and a viral mug shot, his manager decides his life is not yet miserable enough, bringing in a PR company famous for its high-profile damage control cases.

[AH!AU where Klaus is a problematic movie star and Caroline is a PR agent with no time for his BS.] . Urban Legend "I hate myself for saying this, but I have to agree with Little Miss Sunshine," Caroline cuts in. "This is Whitmore. Nothing ever happens here. Least of all a possession that leads to a massacre of slasher movie proportions."

"Thank you, love," Klaus returns brightly. "Very flattering to be validated by you."

"Bite me, Klaus."

"Find me later, after my shift, and we can see to it," comes the shameless rejoinder.

[Or: Caroline tries to navigate life in college having the worst roommate ever, a douchebag who cannot take a hint and a nosy journalist whom she's definitely not attracted to. Never in a million years.]

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaus x caroline #klaroline fic #kc fanfiction #kcfic #kc fandom #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #the originals rewriting #the vampire diaries fanfiction #yokan writes #masterlist

[copperbadge]

(same anon) I've been following you ever since I joined (recognised your name from the potter fandom lol) and I don't think of you as particularly oddly shaped, truly I don't. I have made two very good writer friends here/on AO3, one of whom only joined on here so we could chat, and with the other one I might meet up at some point this year! And there's nothing about these relationships that feels particularly parasocial to me. I think if you start looking or keep an open mind, tumblr is the only online place I would trust to actually deliver a real relationship (says the permanently single demisexual... so what do I know. but yeah :D)

I'm glad you're making friends in fandom!

I do think in some ways you're proving my point, though -- you don't think of me as someone who would struggle to date, but you only know me from tumblr. Even if you've known me from tumblr for a long time, which does convey more knowledge of a person, it's still a medium with a lot of filters on it, and I use those very deliberately at times.

And this is my community -- I don't want to be creeping on people here, even if I know how to go about it in a non-creepy fashion. When I was younger I did occasionally have relationships in fandom but they tended to end badly for reasons that eventually made me realize it was a bad idea to begin with. And at this point anyway it'd feel weird, like hitting on someone at a family reunion.

I'd love to think that as an amiable person who was literally diagnosed as charming I wouldn't struggle to find a partner, but that's why I think it's not really something I can change, it's just...a thing that is. Don't know why, but there's a lot of things I don't know. It's difficult to try the usual things, speed dating and singles nights and meetup groups and apps, and get consistent radio silence back while watching some real true dipshits find someone to tolerate them, but it's also reasonably hard data, especially after a certain sample size. There comes a point where you look at the potential return on investment and say, "Well, I guess that's not going to happen for me." It sounds sad and it is at times, but as I said in notes on the other post, I've never felt incomplete or like I couldn't go out and live life without a partner. It's just one part of life, and part of being an adult is accepting that we don't always get everything we want.

[deathsbestgirl]

Tell me everything about how insane Scully is please!

how insane is scully????

you guys. i mad it through a lot of s1-3 and then started doing random episodes. this is LONG and incomplete. but you've been waiting so long already. so, under the cut:

my favorite crazy thing about scully is in the pilot, she's assigned to debunk mulder's work, and in the middle she's ready to run back to the fbi to tell them he's right because of dirt. she's known the man a few days and runs to his room to undress in front of him & run into his arms!! her face buried in his chest. she has him whipped on the first day, chasing after her. and she'll follow him anywhere.

in deep throat, mulder runs off on his own and next thing you know, scully takes another government agent hostage at gunpoint (with his own gun??) to get mulder back. she teases him, calls him crazy. he likes it so much she never stops. sucker.

in squeeze, scully just has to stick with mulder because he said she was right & played with her necklace. she has to know every thought in his head. she calls him to gossip about colton because now they're best friends.

in the jersey devil, scully whines when mulder sends her home alone, bails mulder out of jail, ditches her date the moment mulder pages her, turns down a second date & follows mulder...threatening to hurt him for teasing her. she's told her friends he's cute and tries to justify why he isn't an option. and it isn't because they work together. (as much as we say she's not getting into another relationship with a superior / colleague...she would, also insane behavior)

in ghost in the machine, scully meets jerry and dislikes him instantaneously just because he was mulder's partner (she's his partner). she knows mulder's profile without any doubt in her mind, but she still asks mulder to confirm. she tells mulder to go get a beer, as if she doesn't already know he can't stop (and even if he could, he wouldn't)

in ice, she very nearly attacks hodge for suggesting she's been infected because she was yelling at mulder. she pulls a gun on mulder and refuses to give up on him, she goes in to talk to him alone. she tackles a man twice her size with no hesitation.

in eve, she answers the phone in mulder's room!!! (this is silly but clearly, they never gave a second thought to being in each other's rooms lol)

in fire, she hates phoebe right off the bat. scully knew her game before mulder told her anything, but she asks him questions anyway. she single-handedly solves the case and gets that woman back out of his life...then scares him with a fake accent. she takes the sherlock joke and makes it hers & mulder's. phoebe who?

in e.b.e. she meets the lone gunmen, calls them the most paranoid people she's ever met, then proceeds to become the most paranoid person you've ever met, most paranoid person in the world.

in tooms, she lies to skinner to give mulder an alibi. she participated in an illegal stakeout so mulder wouldn't get himself killed. she calls him fox and tells him he's the only person she'd put herself on the line for. she is completely devoted.

in erlenmeyer flask, she teams up with a man she doesn't trust to get mulder back. she goes into a top security government facility to steal an alien fetus, and figures out the password deep throat didn't tell her about.

in little green men, she sets up a secret meeting with mulder using their little code. she talks about george hale, lets herself into mulder's apartment, hacks his computer, and tracks him down to puerto rico. where they end up running from the military. she can barely keep her hands off him.

when krycek shows up, scully snubs him because he's working with mulder. scully is his partner, she's his friend. she doesn't trust anyone else with him — and she's right.

in duane barry, she inserts herself into the hostage situation, to the point they let her talk to mulder to guide him...as the rest of them have failed. she finds the metal implant, scans it at the grocery check out, correctly surmises what it's for (at least one purpose), and screams for mulder. i also think she manages to get her necklace off so mulder will know he's on the right path when he finds it (someone else pointed this out, idr who i'm sorry!!) she remembers squeeze.

in end game, mulder knows he couldn't tell her about his sister because she would have sacrificed herself. while he's in martha's vineyard (?) she's running around d.c. on her own as she's being followed. doing all the things he taught her to evade them.

in dod kalm, she goes on his unsanctioned trip to the middle of the ocean and forces him to drink the little water they have, refusing to take it for herself. the entire time they're stuck there, she figures out what's happening and that's how the doctors save them & reverse the aging effects.

in anasazi/the blessing way, she's nearly shot and makes sure mulder doesn't go back to his apartment and instead comes to hers. she undresses him and puts him in her bed while she investigates to exonerate him. she shoots mulder and drives him across the country to albert hosteen. she tells teena mulder that mulder is okay, after walking to her mother's house with no shoes to tell maggie mulder is dead and argue with her sister. she attempts regression hypnosis but she can't do it because she doesn't have mulder.

in revelations, god is sending her signs and she believes she's supposed to protect kevin. she gets defensive at mulder's derisiveness toward religion and she doesn't hold it against him. in the end, she doesn't push and goes to confession instead, accepts his help with her coat. it's enough.

in war of the coprophages, she calls mulder all day on their day off. she rationalizes everything he finds. when he starts talking about bambi, she sleeps with the phone in her hand for when he calls again. she doesn't want to hear him talk about another woman but she does it anyway. "are you sure it wasn't a girly scream?" and then she just drives out to meet him because no one investigates with mulder except her. smart is sexy. after he asked her what she was wearing after she spouted off about darwin.

in syzygy, i don't even think i need to say anything here. she's just so insane and i love it. she's jealous & petty & mean, but also very honest about how she's feeling. in the end, they're still in sync but she is going to drive like a maniac because she's still mad.

in grotesque, scully is once again prepared to hate mulder's former boss. she doesn't need to know anything and she yells at this man for how he treats mulder. this is a woman who grew up with brothers for sure.

in pusher, scully doesn't believe mulder when he theorizes about modell's abilities. but the second he's the target, she believes. she doesn't hide her fear for him and she walks into that hospital room blind with only a bulletproof vest on. she doesn't run when he tells her too. she will never leave him.

in home, she's thinking about motherhood and having kids and asks mulder about his family. when he swings his head around to her at the question, she stares right back. i swear it's a challenge.

in the field where i died, she yells at mulder for not telling skinner the truth (she never rats on him). she still goes with him to his regression. she doesn't believe these are past lives, but she takes the information he shared and digs into the archives. she finds the american revolution era names. she tells him she wouldn't change a day.

tunguska/terma: she is held in contempt of congress to give mulder time. she trusts his instincts and not her own. she tells the court about the government conspiracy of men and continuously avoids their questions, pushing forward about the lawless men.

in never again, she likes ed because he's interested, because she can talk openly with him without consequences, because he's a sad man & a little dangerous. but then he's really dangerous. she only goes out with ed because she thinks mulder only cares about the work and not her. she gets a tattoo.

in memento mori, she only tells mulder about her cancer. she chooses to investigate instead of pursue treatment right away. she apologize to skinner. she rights letter after letter to mulder, begging forgiveness & asking him to go on. talking about how she feels him close. when she decides to start treatment, she asks mulder to bring her things & call her mother. in the end, she decides to abandon typical treatment and live with cancer.

in gethsemane/reduxes, she doesn't tell mulder he cancer has metastasized. she continues to work, getting injured on the job. she tells police the dead man in his apartment is mulder, she lies to skinner & the fbi. she runs herself ragged to the point she collapses. she begs mulder to blame her & save himself. she's adamant mulder can't trust skinner, even after skinner was shot because he tried to keep melissa's case open.

in chinga, she has no idea how to take a vacation anymore. she can't ignore the x file she stumbles into and she believes it's the doll. she microwaves a little girl's doll to save a woman.

in pine bluff variant, scully chases after mulder when they lose contact. some unknown pathogen just killed someone. she rewatches the tapes after she's sure she saw mulder let whatshisname get away, but stays silent in the meeting. he won't tell her anything but it doesn't stop her from investigating. she can't believe that he's betraying his country, and hiding anything so big from her. it gets to the point skinner has to tell her and she rails at him & that other guy for endangering mulder. she's his partner!! and she makes more headway in a few days than these other idiots did in weeks. she's relentless.

in tithonus, scully has to work a case without mulder and she hates it. she insists it isn't an x file but i think she knows. she's endeared toward fellig despite herself. she asks 'how can you have too much life?' she knows the pain of dying, of leaving people behind, of not being able to finish everything you started. she can't get enough despite all the pain & struggle. she has things to do, someone she wants to be with & they aren't there yet. and when she's got, and fellig tells her to close her eyes, don't look at him — she does it!! in this vulnerable moment, on the cusp of death, she believes. she believed him almost instantly.

in mulder & scully meet the weremonster, she approaches suspects ALONE. mulder scolds her for it both times. she tells him 'you forget, i'm immortal'

in home again, maggie dies and she loses it. she's sobbing, refusing to let them take maggie, mulder tries to get her to take time and she refuses. it's a stark contrast to her grief in beyond the sea. he can't stop her but he can be with her. we hear her call mulder 'fox' for the first time since tooms.

in the my struggles (idk which one lol) scully is desperate to save mulder. she knows what's coming and she can't lose him. "you need him, and i neee you." the truth is she needs william too, and he's so close now. she never tried to find him to keep him safe (supposedly) but for mulder, she'll take the risk. and maybe stop fighting herself for once. she's unbearably good, but her & mulder are the only ones who can save the world and she can't do it alone. (crazy, crazy, crazy)

other things: scully thinks mulder's porn habit is funny, endearing. she doesn't seem to have any (real) negative thoughts or feelings about it. she argues with him relentlessly about his theories/actions/decisions, but never in front of other people. in front of others, she backs him up, defends him, or stays silent (pine bluff variant). but she will good-naturedly make fun of him to strangers ('he chews the furniture' and something in humbug & quagmire). on friday nights, she stays home cleaning her gun, reading books, reading medical journals & writing for them. she loves jose chung. she believes in the possibility of time travel but not in science's current abilities to achieve it. she remembers every word mulder has ever said (dreams, ftf hallway speech). she literally hangs in his every word and incorporates it into her worldview, her behavior, who she is as a person. scully dedicated herself to mulder in the pilot, before she knew what it meant. and once she did know what it meant, she stayed and stayed and stayed. she believes in him so much, in what he can achieve that it drives her to do crazy things herself. something she always had in her, but now she can let it out. it has a purpose. and dana scully with a purpose is someone you don't mess with and can't be hidden in the shadows (despite the effort of a global conspiracy).

#dana scully #the x files #painfully incomplete

[sirfrogsworth]

The Pretty Average Trump Trauma

I really picked the wrong week to have a controversial post go viral.

The appeal deadline for my disability case is very soon and we just recently got the last of the medical records. My lawyer can get very busy and hard to reach. And I have been freaking out trying to get a hold of him to make sure everything is ready to be submitted. Thankfully he just emailed and said everything is on track and will be sent in for the appeal.

But having this weighing on me behind the scenes while also dealing with the blowback from my "vote for Biden" post caused me to enter into some unhealthy arguments and lose my temper on several occasions.

I didn't actually think about what would happen if that post went viral. Sometimes I write things and a hundred people see it, and it serves as a catharsis because I was able to get my thoughts and fears out of my brain.

And sometimes it gets reblogged 6000 times and I can forget I have a platform where that happens from time to time.

I wish I had written a better initial post. I think my thoughts in subsequent posts, along with the inclusion of what I think is a better strategy, would have gone a long way to help people understand my point of view. Looking back, that original post feels incomplete.

The post that ended up going viral was not inspired by reason or logic and it was never really meant to convince anyone of anything.

I thought I was preaching to the choir.

It was a representation of my fears. It was the result of two years of panic and trauma from the pandemic which ended in my mother's horrible death.

Let me explain...

On November 9th, Shaun, a YouTuber I respect, posted this.

And it scared the hell out of me.

A very popular leftist with a huge platform wrote this to 5 million people and I freaked out.

Shaun wasn't necessarily saying not to vote for Biden at the time. But he thinks people should all say they won't vote for him unless he calls for a ceasefire. I get the strategy. But I feared that nuance would be lost on many people and they would only see it as "don't vote for Biden... no matter what." Which was an accurate prediction on my part. The guy from Eve 6 has been going nuance-free for weeks now.

The one thing I greatly disagree with Shaun about is this...

Before the pandemic, I might have understood his argument. For the first two years, Trump was mostly an ineffectual goof. He had trouble getting a lot of his worst ideas to manifest. Most of the border wall he built ended up being repairs of existing barriers. And Obama droned civilians and kept kids in cages too—though Trump kept them in cages indefinitely and made up a rule that we can't actually know how many civilians he was droning.

So, a lot of the same, but turned up to 11.

But nothing about the pandemic response was pretty average.

There is something I have been choosing not to say during all of these discussions. I felt like saying it would be poor timing. I was worried people wouldn't actually agree with me. I worried it would make people think I was turning suffering into a competition. I didn't want to make it look like I valued certain lives over others. But then people accused me of all of that anyway. I was called evil and a collaborator and a supporter of genocide.

So I'm going to talk about it. Because the fact that few have mentioned it in these discussions has been bothering me. And the fact that the majority of society does not mention it makes me feel very alone in this belief.

I have long believed Trump and the majority of US conservatives committed a genocide of the disabled and elderly. I was never really comfortable calling it that word. I wasn't really sure how a genocide got classified as such. So I would just say things like, "40% of people who died during COVID should still be alive" and "Trump is responsible for hundreds of thousands of COVID deaths" and "Trump killed my mom" and hoping people would make the connection or at least see it as mass murder. I mean, this country judges everything by how many "9/11s" something is, but not the pandemic?

Donald Trump was the leader of the Republican party. When he refused to wear a mask due to vanity, his followers looked for something to excuse him. And I feel that directly birthed the "masks don't work" movement among conservatives. Donald Trump, having enormous influence among his acolytes, refused to correct this dangerous rhetoric. And he probably welcomed the cover so he could continue going maskless and not smear his makeup—even after he nearly died.

It is my belief this was the beginning of a genocide of apathy, deliberate and accidental incompetence, and non-compliance. And the reason for that non-compliance was not freedom as many claimed.

Conservatives did not like being inconvenienced.

They didn't like having to consider others.

And if competence requires effort and vigilance, they'd prefer doing the bare minimum.

Trump was famous for not filling vital administrative positions in the executive branch. Not only that, his turnover rate was 5 times higher than previous administrations. People were asked to do the job of several people because they didn't staff properly, and so those people quit. Thus creating a cycle of inexperienced new-hires that were out of their depth and asked to do much more than they bargained for. There is no way they could succeed in their jobs.

I think people forget that part of the role of the executive is the day-to-day boring administrative shit that is required to run a country. And when this day-to-day work isn't valued, it creates a crisis of incompetence. Which then creates things like not enough tests, not enough testing, Trump saying "if you don't test, it doesn't count", botched vaccine rollouts, rampant misinformation, poor education of the populace, and abysmal improvised press conferences where the President does a quick riff on injecting bleach.

This competence aspect is one of the hugest reliefs I had with the Biden administration. Not Biden. Not his policies. I'm talking about the regular workers getting shit done. This is the reason I am desperate to get my shit worked out with Social Security before the election. I once called Social Security during the pandemic and I literally got a recording saying to try calling back the next month.

Trump didn't care. People criticized him for not hiring people. He was aware of the problem. He just did nothing about it. And many conservatives praised him for "trimming the fat" or whatever. This idea that all of these government workers were useless burdens on the taxpayer fell apart during the pandemic.

There is incompetence caused by ignorance but it can also be a deliberate act. Trump was extraordinary in all forms of incompetence. He wasn't qualified to manage a pandemic. But he could have easily appointed experts and then gotten out of the way. But his narcissism would not let him cede power to anyone. He has always been convinced "only Trump can save you" and so his ego helped kill nearly half a million people.

Once the incompetence ball got rolling, that's when malicious apathy reared its ugly head. It was time to choose who they cared least about dying—who they felt was most useless. Conservatives decided it was time to devalue lives and start making sacrifices to save politicians' money laundering fronts small businesses.

Popular conservatives were going on TV and saying it was okay if Grandma died. It would be a worthy sacrifice to protect our freedoms.

The Lt. Governor of Texas, Dan Patrick, basically offered up the elderly for sacrifice all while claiming that he spoke for them and was also willing to die. Though I don't take his personal willingness very seriously, since he has the money and resources to get the best medical care and probably had no expectation he was in any danger.

“No one reached out to me and said, ‘As a senior citizen, are you willing to take a chance on your survival in exchange for keeping the America that all America loves for your children and grandchildren?’ But if they had? If that is the exchange, I’m all in. So my message is let’s get back to work. Those of us who are 70-plus, we’ll take care of ourselves.”

But you cannot just sacrifice the elderly. You may justify it by saying they have lived a long life, but many of the same health risks were shared by the disabled. Many of whom still had normal lifespans, but just needed extra care and protection.

There are countless elderly who cannot "take care of themselves" but they are still of value to our society. They are still loved. They watch and teach their grandchildren. They are the keepers of the family stories. They bake cookies and give you two dollar bills. They have random bowls of butterscotch all throughout their house.

But some need help. Some are sick. Some can't drive. Some can't walk. I guarantee not all of them were prepared to die for the cause.

And none deserved to die for a sports bar.

Oh, didn't I mention?

Dan Patrick owned a chain of sports bars that were losing money from the lockdowns. Did you really think he was sacrificing old folks "for the children"?

Thankfully Dan's sports bars are gonna be okay. He ended up receiving a $179,000 PPP loan... that was forgiven.

Then they started saying COVID deaths weren't COVID deaths.

"Well, they had a bad heart." "They were obese." "They had cancer."

They dropped the elderly excuse and began to openly devalue the disabled as well. If you were sick, what good were you? They considered us the next sacrifices for their convenience. If we wanted to survive, we shouldn't have gotten sick. It didn't matter that we could survive for years or even have a normal lifespan as long as we were protected by our communities.

And then began the non-compliance.

Trump's followers ignored masks and lockdowns and eventually vaccines. They were unwilling to protect the vulnerable and so many of us just... died.

Again, 40% of the US COVID deaths could have been prevented. Hundreds of thousands of people should still be here. Malicious apathy, incompetence, and non-compliance were the direct cause of this genocide.

The United Nations Genocide Convention identified 5 acts that typically constitute genocide. Only one act is required and in the pandemic 3 of the 5 acts happened.

Killing members of a group. Causing members of a group serious bodily harm. Imposing living conditions on that group that would destroy them.

I'm looking at that third one just now and realizing why we have advocates to remind us of vulnerable groups that need protection. I was thinking about how the elderly and disabled were trapped in hyper-contagious nursing homes and care facilities, but I completely forgot about prisons and the concentration camps at the borders.

I am not trying to diminish the awful things happening in Palestine right now. This is not a comparison of suffering—but a reminder. When a current terrible thing is happening, it can be hard to focus on anything else. But I do wish more people recognized what happened as a genocide and that the leader of that genocide, the one with the power to stop it, was Donald Trump. If we are going to base this voting decision entirely on acts of genocide, why is this not part of the consideration?

It is an awful moral calculus we have to figure out. One president is supporting and asking for funding for a genocide and I feel the other was the direct cause of another genocide. That's why I said both choices sucked. And the only way I could resolve this moral calculation was by asking what path would cause the least harm for everyone involved.

And the most disappointing aspect of all of these debates was the ableism. People told me if Trump was elected and I lost my benefits I should grow my own food and learn about medicine. They said I valued disabled lives above those in Gaza. They told me to imagine myself in Nazi Germany as a collaborator despite the fact I would have been euthanized.

But I felt like they weren't considering the disabled at all.

I am a disability advocate. So of course I am going to remind people to consider us in their voting decisions. But I'm tired of hearing I value lives differently just because I speak on behalf of a vulnerable group more often. I'm tired of continually having to justify my existence. And I'm tired of people dismissing the very real trauma caused by Trump.

It was not pretty average.

I'd like to tell you the full story of my mother's passing. All of the details. Even the ones I can't bear to type. But this isn't just my story. This is the story of countless others who had to watch their loved ones slowly die behind glass or over the phone or on an iPad.

I spent two years in constant anxiety trying to protect my two very sick parents. It was always assumed that my father was the most at risk. And that he was probably going to die long before my mother. But she had started a treatment for her psoriatic arthritis that turned the volume down on her immune system. Something that would normally not be a huge risk... but a pandemic changed that. A vaccine needs a functioning immune system to protect someone.

She could either accept the agony of stopping treatment or risk getting COVID. If people would have been willing to protect her, it would have been an easier choice. And she would still be around today. And I wouldn't have to worry about being homeless right now.

I don't know for sure when she was infected. I kept her inside as much as possible. But she needed those treatments and we had to pile into a crowded waiting room every time. And I remember a man in his fifties who seemed preoccupied with having to wear a mask. And when he thought no one was looking, he'd pull it down below his nose. A few days later she was being taken away in an ambulance.

A few weeks before my mother died, she called me on the phone. She was heavily medicated and they had two different breathing devices assisting her. The nurse was holding the phone up to her ear and she was trying to speak over the volume of the air rushing into her face from the masks. I could not hear her no matter how loud she yelled. So she asked the nurse to take the masks off for just a second so we could talk.

Her only concern was for my father. We all contracted COVID and she was so worried he would end up just like her. Thankfully the vaccine worked for him and he was okay at that moment. But she kept yelling, "Is Dad okay? Is Dad okay?" And I kept trying to tell her he was fine, but she was hard of hearing and the phone could not be held very close to her ear.

Unfortunately, the yelling made it harder and harder for her to breathe. She started gasping for air. The nurse kept insisting she put the breathing equipment back on, but my mom refused. "I want to talk to my son! I need to talk to my son!"

I knew there wasn't much we could do to communicate. And so I kept trying to yell "I love you, Mom. Everyone is fine. I love you!" I then asked the nurse to tell her that. And when she finally understood what I was saying, she burst into tears.

Her oxygen levels were getting dangerously low and she was fighting the nurse. And she just yelled out, "I'm so scared! I think I'm going to die! Tell Dad I'm sorry I can't take care of him! I don't want to die!" She kept repeating that over and over. The nurse had no choice and had to put the masks back on. My mom screamed and shouted "No! Please no! That's my son!"

And those were the last words I ever heard from my mother.

Gasping for air. Scared of dying. Worried about her family.

This moment has intrusively popped into my brain on a regular basis since it happened. It happens when I'm awake. It happens in my dreams. I have no control over it. I just have to keep experiencing it like it is happening for the first time.

After I saw that tweet from Shaun and then many others expressing the same thing (without the strategic aspect), my dread and trauma resurfaced with a vengeance. I've been reliving my mom's final words in my dreams. That moment keeps popping into my head. I feared the man I feel is most responsible for my mother's death may regain power and kill me and the last of the family I have left.

I keep asking myself the same questions over and over. What if there is another public health emergency? What happens to my trans friends if he turns the US into Florida and Texas? What will happen to the migrants at the border?

All I have is my two best friends. Katrina is gay and Delling is trans and disabled. All of us are vulnerable.

I wrote that post to help deal with the nightmares. Writing is part of my coping process. I didn't really expect it to go super viral. I just needed to get that out of my brain. But when people pushed back and started calling me evil and a collaborator and that I was valuing my life above those in Palestine, all with a huge heap of ableism, I found myself unable to let it go and not respond. I couldn't choose the healthy thing and step away.

While I feel I made some good arguments and put forth some solid ideas for other ways to handle this, I also got angry and lost my temper and stayed in arguments for way too long—all to my mental detriment.

My little world felt like it was collapsing and the world at large also felt like it was collapsing. I had personal horrors in my mind mixing with the horrors of this global conflict.

It was too much.

I don't regret what I posted. Many felt the same as I do. And I think my subsequent posts did a good job of expanding on my thoughts while also offering hope for alternate solutions.

But I do regret the timing and I wish I hadn't lost my temper. Especially in a reply I left with a lot of cussing.

People might disagree but I am hoping that people can understand the fear and trauma that influences my point of view.

I am actually willing to risk quite a lot to protect other people. Even people in faraway lands I don't know.

But I refuse to offer up the vulnerable to be sacrificed if it won't actually help anyone. That's what a Texas Lt. Governor would do.

#trigger warning #death mention #genocide mention

[drchucktingle]

more art talk

buds have been asking some questions in comments about separating art from artist so i will answer a few. first i will start with this very good post from a buckaroo who sums up everything i have said VERY VERY WELL. was reading along nodding but then got to end and they seem to think chuck disagrees which is confusing. i do not disagree with any of this it is just very good summary of my post so i will put here for context and to say 'good job bud yes'

anyway this is great summary of what chucks post was talkin on. knowing everything or nothing about an artist will color your interaction with them (even learning something and then pretending you never heard it will color your interaction whether you like it or not). personally chuck thinks the 'ignoring path' will be less vivid and complex but all ways are VALID. there is no correct what to experience art just personal preference that we all make for our own trot.

now i will get to the questions of a different bud.

no of course not why would it be incomplete without knowing every member of crew. chuck does not even really understand what this buckaroo is trying to say. your artistic experience is just as colored by how much you know about someone as it is how much you DONT KNOW about someone (i wear a heckin mask chuck is a perfect example). all of these ways are valid and all are part of the artistic experience. so no you do not need to know whole crew to enjoy art what the heck

no of course not. where are buds getting this idea? if you bought painting from local art fair with this big story behind it about daughter selling to you and all this THAT IS ALL PART OF THE GREAT ART EXPERIENCE. what you have for lunch that day is part of it and the way you got to the swap meet and what the weather was is all part of the art. this story is very vivid and exciting. of course that is not 'leaving the play at intermission' just because you do not know who made the painting. not knowing who made the painting is PART OF THE ART BUD

of course your experience of art changes if you experience it multiple times. this one seems VERY ovbious so i am extra confused. your experience of a dang movie changed based on where your seats are and whether or not you order a popcorn and chocolate milk, of course it changed second and third and forth time you see it. not sure what is part about doing legwork first means.

what about it? i am confused. deliberately separating yourself from your work in some way (like wear a dang pink bag over your head and being mysterious WHAT THE HECK) would IN ITSELF still be part of the art. something not being known is just as relevant as something being known and these are all perfectly valid parts of artistic trot

having a complete picture of context might make experiencing art more complex or vivid, might not, neither is 'more valid'. you do not need to know EVERYTHING about a work of art. in fact you do not need to know ANYTHING to enjoy art. not sure where this is coming from.

that is true if you learn something bad about an artist and then ignore it you are STILL altering your experience of their work, which means you are STILL not actually separating art from artist because to IGNORE something is an active choice.

seems like buds are hung up on this line from chucks previous post:

'separating artist from art is like walking out of a play during intermission youre missing half the show bud, for better or worse. gotta accept theres a whole second half and grapple with that because its all one big performance'

buckaroos seem to think this is SCOLDING those who walk out but that is not what i am saying. i am not saying 'shame on you for walking out' i am saying YOU LITERALLY CANT STOP THE EXPERIENCE IT IS IMPOSSIBLE. because walking out does not end the experience it just dulls your perception of whats happening in the theater. intermission walkout means you just have a new and different experience where youre witnessing the show from the lobby or across the street (which is to say having artistic experience of NOT witnessing the show). and personally chuck thinks sticking around and really wrestling with these ideas brings vivid results (despite all experiences being 'valid' in technical way. there is no 'correct' way to ART AROUND this is just chucks personal choice)

anyway those are some comments i thought were interesting. many of them are confusing to chuck but wanted to answer all for way of clarity of buds and just to DIG A LITTLE DEEPER. thank you to buckaroos who took time to write all this you are proving love and i appreciate your input very much EVEN QUESTIONS I DO NOT UNDERSTAND ARE VERY GOOD AND THOUGHTFUL so thank you buckaroos. LOVE IS REAL

#chuck tingle #more art talk